Austrian Federal Ministry of Science, Research and Economy ; Belgian Fonds de la Recherche Scientifique ; Conselho Nacional de Desenvolvimento Científico e Tecnológico (CNPq) ; Coordenação de Aperfeiçoamento de Pessoal de Nível Superior (CAPES) ; Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado do Rio de Janeiro (FAPERJ) ; Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado de São Paulo (FAPESP) ; Bulgarian Ministry of Education and Science ; CERN ; Chinese Academy of Sciences, Ministry of Science and Technology ; Colombian Funding Agency (COLCIENCIAS) ; Croatian Ministry of Science, Education and Sport ; Research Promotion Foundation, Cyprus ; Secretariat for Higher Education, Science, Technology and Innovation, Ecuador ; Ministry of Education and Research, Estonian Research Council ; European Regional Development Fund, Estonia ; Academy of Finland ; Institut National de Physique Nucleaire et de Physique des Particules / CNRS ; Bundesministerium fur Bildung und Forschung ; General Secretariat for Research and Technology, Greece ; National Scientific Research Foundation, Hungary ; Department of Atomic Energy, India ; Institute for Studies in Theoretical Physics and Mathematics, Iran ; Science Foundation, Ireland ; Istituto Nazionale di Fisica Nucleare, Italy ; Ministry of Science, ICT and Future Planning, Republic of Korea ; Lithuanian Academy of Sciences ; Ministry of Education (Malaysia) ; Mexican Funding Agency BUAP ; Mexican Funding Agency CINVESTAV ; Mexican Funding Agency CONACYT ; Mexican Funding Agency LNS ; Mexican Funding Agency SEP ; Mexican Funding Agency UASLP-FAI ; Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment, New Zealand ; Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission ; Ministry of Science and Higher Education, Poland ; Fundacao para a Ciencia e a Tecnologia, Portugal ; JINR, Dubna ; Ministry of Education and Science of the Russian Federation ; Federal Agency of Atomic Energy of the Russian Federation ; Russian Academy of Sciences ; Russian Foundation for Basic Research and the Russian Competitiveness Program of NRNU MEPhI ; Ministry of Education, Science and Technological Development of Serbia ; Secretaria de Estado de Investigacion, Desarrollo e Innovacion, Programa Consolider-Ingenio 2010, Plan de Ciencia, Tecnologia e Innovacion 2013-2017 del Principado de Asturias and Fondo Europeo de Desarrollo Regional, Spain ; Swiss Funding Agency ETH Board ; Swiss Funding Agency ETH Zurich ; Swiss Funding Agency PSI ; Swiss Funding Agency SNF ; Swiss Funding Agency UniZH ; Swiss Funding Agency Canton Zurich ; Swiss Funding Agency SER ; Ministry of Science and Technology, Taipei ; Thailand Center of Excellence in Physics ; Scientific and Technical Research Council of Turkey ; National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine ; State Fund for Fundamental Researches, Ukraine ; Science and Technology Facilities Council, U.K. ; US Department of Energy ; Marie-Curie program ; European Research Council ; Horizon 2020 Grant (European Union) ; Leventis Foundation ; A. P. Sloan Foundation ; Alexander von Humboldt Foundation ; Belgian Federal Science Policy Office ; Fonds pour la Formation a la Recherche dans l'Industrie et dans l'Agriculture (FRIA-Belgium) ; Agentschap voor Innovatie door Wetenschap en Technologie (IWT-Belgium) ; Ministry of Education, Youth and Sports (MEYS) of the Czech Republic ; Council of Scientific and Industrial Research, India ; HOMING PLUS program of the Foundation for Polish Science ; European Union, Regional Development Fund ; Mobility Plus program of the Ministry of Science and Higher Education ; National Science Center (Poland) ; Qatar National Research Fund ; Programa Severo Ochoa del Principado de Asturias ; EU-ESF ; Greek NSRF ; Rachadapisek Sompot Fund for Postdoctoral Fellowship, Chulalongkorn University ; Chulalongkorn Academic into Its 2nd Century Project Advancement Project (Thailand) ; Welch Foundation ; Weston Havens Foundation (U.S.A.) ; Austrian Science Fund ; Fonds voor Wetenschappelijk Onderzoek ; National Natural Science Foundation of China ; Croatian Science Foundation ; Finnish Ministry of Education and Culture ; Helsinki Institute of Physics ; Commissariat a l'Energie Atomique et aux Energies Alternatives / CEA, France ; Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft ; Helmholtz-Gemeinschaft Deutscher Forschungszentren, Germany ; National Innovation Office, Hungary ; Department of Science and Technology, India ; National Research Foundation (NRF), Republic of Korea ; University of Malaya (Malaysia) ; National Science Centre, Poland ; Institute for the Promotion of Teaching Science and Technology of Thailand ; Special Task Force for Activating Research ; National Science and Technology Development Agency of Thailand ; Turkish Atomic Energy Authority ; US National Science Foundation ; Ministry of Education and Research, Estonian Research Council: IUT23-4 ; Ministry of Education and Research, Estonian Research Council: IUT23-6 ; Horizon 2020 Grant (European Union): 675440 ; National Science Center (Poland): Harmonia 2014/14/M/ST2/00428 ; National Science Center (Poland): Opus 2014/13/B/ST2/02543 ; National Science Center (Poland): 2014/15/B/ST2/03998 ; National Science Center (Poland): 2015/19/B/ST2/02861 ; National Science Center (Poland): Sonata-bis 2012/07/E/ST2/01406 ; Welch Foundation: C-1845 ; This paper presents a measurement of the underlying event activity in proton-proton collisions at a center-of-mass energy of 13TeV, performed using inclusive Z boson production events collected with the CMS experiment at the LHC. The analyzed data correspond to an integrated luminosity of 2.1 fb(-1). The underlying event activity is quantified in terms of the charged particle multiplicity, as well as of the scalar sum of the charged particles' transverse momenta in different topological regions defined with respect to the Z boson direction. The distributions are unfolded to the stable particle level and compared with predictions from various Monte Carlo event generators, as well as with similar CDF and CMS measurements at center-of-mass energies of 1.96 and 7TeV respectively.
BMWFW (Austria) ; FWF (Austria) ; FNRS (Belgium) ; FWO (Belgium) ; Conselho Nacional de Desenvolvimento Científico e Tecnológico (CNPq) ; Coordenação de Aperfeiçoamento de Pessoal de Nível Superior (CAPES) ; Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado do Rio de Janeiro (FAPERJ) ; Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado de São Paulo (FAPESP) ; MES (Bulgaria) ; CERN ; CAS (China) ; MoST (China) ; NSFC (China) ; COL-CIENCIAS (Colombia) ; MSES (Croatia) ; CSF (Croatia) ; RPF (Cyprus) ; SENESCYT (Ecuador) ; MoER (Estonia) ; ERC IUT (Estonia) ; ERDF (Estonia) ; Academy of Finland (Finland) ; MEC (Finland) ; HIP (Finland) ; CEA (France) ; CNRS/IN2P3 (France) ; BMBF (Germany) ; DFG (Germany) ; HGF (Germany) ; GSRT (Greece) ; OTKA (Hungary) ; NIH (Hungary) ; DAE (India) ; DST (India) ; IPM (Iran) ; SFI (Ireland) ; INFN (Italy) ; MSIP (Republic of Korea) ; NRF (Republic of Korea) ; LAS (Lithuania) ; MOE (Malaysia) ; UM (Malaysia) ; BUAP (Mexico) ; CINVESTAV (Mexico) ; CONACYT (Mexico) ; LNS (Mexico) ; SEP (Mexico) ; UASLP-FAI (Mexico) ; MBIE (New Zealand) ; PAEC (Pakistan) ; MSHE (Poland) ; NSC (Poland) ; FCT (Portugal) ; JINR (Dubna) ; MON (Russia) ; RosAtom (Russia) ; RAS (Russia) ; RFBR (Russia) ; RAEP (Russia) ; MESTD (Serbia) ; SEIDI (Spain) ; CPAN (Spain) ; Swiss Funding Agencies (Switzerland) ; MST (Taipei) ; ThEPCenter (Thailand) ; IPST (Thailand) ; STAR (Thailand) ; NSTDA (Thailand) ; TUBITAK (Turkey) ; TAEK (Turkey) ; NASU (Ukraine) ; SFFR (Ukraine) ; STFC (United Kingdom) ; DOE (U.S.A.) ; NSF (U.S.A.) ; Marie-Curie program ; European Research Council ; EPLANET (European Union) ; Leventis Foundation ; A. P. Sloan Foundation ; Alexander von Humboldt Foundation ; Belgian Federal Science Policy Office ; Fonds pour la Formation a la Recherche dans l'Industrie et dans l'Agriculture (FRIA-Belgium) ; Agentschap voor Innovatie door Wetenschap en Technologie (IWT-Belgium) ; Ministry of Education, Youth and Sports (MEYS) of the Czech Republic ; Council of Science and Industrial Research, India ; HOMING PLUS program of the Foundation for Polish Science - European Union, Regional Development Fund ; Mobility Plus program of the Ministry of Science and Higher Education ; National Science Center (Poland) ; Thalis and Aristeia programs - EU-ESF ; Greek NSRF ; National Priorities Research Program by Qatar National Research Fund ; Programa Clarin-COFUND del Principado de Asturias ; Rachadapisek Som-pot Fund for Postdoctoral Fellowship ; Chulalongkorn University ; Chulalongkorn Academic into Its 2nd Century Project Advancement Project (Thailand) ; Welch Foundation ; National Science Center (Poland): Harmonia 2014/14/M/ST2/0042 ; National Science Center (Poland): Opus 2014/13/B/ST2/02543 ; National Science Center (Poland): 2014/15/B/ST2/03998 ; National Science Center (Poland): 2015/19/B/ST2/02861 ; National Science Center (Poland): Sonatabis 2012/07/E/ST2/01406 ; Welch Foundation: C-1845 ; A search is performed for electroweak production of a vector-like top quark partner T of charge 2/3 in association with a standard model top or bottom quark, using 2.3 fb(-1) of proton-proton collision data at TeV collected by the CMS experiment at the CERN LHC. The search targets T quarks decaying to a top quark and a Higgs boson in fully hadronic final states. For a T quark with mass above 1 TeV the daughter top quark and Higgs boson are highly Lorentz-boosted and can each appear as a single hadronic jet. Jet substructure and b tagging techniques are used to identify the top quark and Higgs boson jets, and to suppress the standard model backgrounds. An excess of events is searched for in the T quark candidate mass distribution in the data, which is found to be consistent with the expected backgrounds. Upper limits at 95% confidence level are set on the product of the single T quark production cross sections and the branching fraction , and these vary between 0.31 and 0.93 pb for T quark masses in the range 1000-1800 GeV. This is the first search for single electroweak production of a vector-like T quark in fully hadronic final states.
Austrian Federal Ministry of Science, Research and Economy ; Austrian Science Fund ; Belgian Fonds de la Recherche Scientifique ; Fonds voor Wetenschappelijk Onderzoek ; Conselho Nacional de Desenvolvimento Científico e Tecnológico (CNPq) ; Coordenação de Aperfeiçoamento de Pessoal de Nível Superior (CAPES) ; Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado do Rio de Janeiro (FAPERJ) ; Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado de São Paulo (FAPESP) ; Bulgarian Ministry of Education and Science ; CERN ; Chinese Academy of Sciences, Ministry of Science and Technology ; National Natural Science Foundation of China ; Colombian Funding Agency (COLCIENCIAS) ; Croatian Ministry of Science, Education and Sport ; Croatian Science Foundation ; Research Promotion Foundation, Cyprus ; Ministry of Education and Research, Estonia ; European Regional Development Fund, Estonia ; Estonian Research Council, Estonia ; Academy of Finland ; Finnish Ministry of Education and Culture ; Helsinki Institute of Physics ; Institut National de Physique Nucleaire et de Physique des Particules / CNRS, France ; Commissariat a l'Energie Atomique et aux Energies Alternatives/CEA, France ; Bundesministerium fur Bildung und Forschung, Germany ; Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft, Germany ; Helmholtz-Gemeinschaft Deutscher Forschungszentren, Germany ; General Secretariat for Research and Technology, Greece ; National Scientific Research Foundation, Hungary ; National Innovation Office, Hungary ; Department of Atomic Energy, India ; Department of Science and Technology, India ; Institute for Studies in Theoretical Physics and Mathematics, Iran ; Science Foundation, Ireland ; Istituto Nazionale di Fisica Nucleare, Italy ; Ministry of Science, ICT and Future Planning, Republic of Korea ; National Research Foundation (NRF), Republic of Korea ; Lithuanian Academy of Sciences ; Ministry of Education (Malaysia) ; University of Malaya (Malaysia) ; Mexican Funding Agency (CINVESTAV) ; Mexican Funding Agency (CONACYT) ; Mexican Funding Agency (SEP) ; Mexican Funding Agency (UASLP-FAI) ; Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment, New Zealand ; Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission ; Ministry of Science and Higher Education, Poland ; National Science Centre, Poland ; Fundacao para a Ciencia e a Tecnologia, Portugal ; JINR, Dubna ; Ministry of Education and Science of the Russian Federation ; Federal Agency of Atomic Energy of the Russian Federation ; Russian Academy of Sciences ; Russian Foundation for Basic Research ; Ministry of Education, Science and Technological Development of Serbia ; Secretaria de Estado de Investigacion, Desarrollo e Innovacion and Programa Consolider-Ingenio, Spain ; Swiss Funding Agency (ETH Board) ; Swiss Funding Agency (ETH Zurich) ; Swiss Funding Agency (PSI) ; Swiss Funding Agency (SNF) ; Swiss Funding Agency (UniZH) ; Swiss Funding Agency (Canton Zurich) ; Swiss Funding Agency (SER) ; Ministry of Science and Technology, Taipei ; Thailand Center of Excellence in Physics ; Institute for the Promotion of Teaching Science and Technology of Thailand ; Special Task Force for Activating Research ; National Science and Technology Development Agency of Thailand ; Scientific and Technical Research Council of Turkey ; Turkish Atomic Energy Authority ; National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, Ukraine ; State Fund for Fundamental Researches, Ukraine ; Science and Technology Facilities Council, U.K. ; US Department of Energy ; US National Science Foundation ; Marie-Curie programme (European Union) ; European Research Council (European Union) ; EPLANET (European Union) ; Leventis Foundation ; A. P. Sloan Foundation ; Alexander von Humboldt Foundation ; Belgian Federal Science Policy Office ; Fonds pour la Formation a la Recherche dans l'Industrie et dans l'Agriculture (FRIA-Belgium) ; Agentschap voor Innovatie door Wetenschap en Technologie (IWT-Belgium) ; Ministry of Education, Youth and Sports (MEYS) of the Czech Republic ; Council of Science and Industrial Research, India ; HOMING PLUS programme of the Foundation for Polish Science ; European Union, Regional Development Fund ; OPUS programme of the National Science Center (Poland) ; Compagnia di San Paolo (Torino) ; Consorzio per la Fisica (Trieste) ; MIUR project (Italy) ; Thalis programme - EU-ESF ; Aristeia programme - EU-ESF ; Greek NSRF ; National Priorities Research Program by Qatar National Research Fund ; Rachadapisek Sompot Fund for Postdoctoral Fellowship, Chulalongkorn University (Thailand) ; Welch Foundation ; Science and Technology Facilities Council ; Estonian Research Council, Estonia: IUT23-4 ; Estonian Research Council, Estonia: IUT23-6 ; MIUR project (Italy): 20108T4XTM ; Welch Foundation: C-1845 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003844/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/J004871/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K001639/1 CMS Upgrades ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/J005665/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/N000250/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/L00609X/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/J50094X/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/M005356/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/M005356/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003224/1 CMS Upgrades ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K001256/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: PP/E002803/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/I000305/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003542/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/M002020/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003542/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: PP/E000479/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/I005912/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K001639/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/M004775/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/N000242/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/L005603/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/I005912/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K001531/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/L00609X/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/H000925/2 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/J004901/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/I003622/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/H000925/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: CMS ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003844/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/I003622/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/J005479/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/N001273/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/M004775/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003542/1 GRID PP ; This paper describes the algorithms used by the CMS experiment to reconstruct and identify tau -> hadrons + nu(tau) decays during Run 1 of the LHC. The performance of the algorithms is studied in proton-proton collisions recorded at a centre-of-mass energy of 8 TeV, corresponding to an integrated luminosity of 19.7 fb(-1). The algorithms achieve an identification efficiency of 50-60%, with misidentification rates for quark and gluon jets, electrons, and muons between per mille and per cent levels.
Austrian Federal Ministry of Science, Research and Economy ; Austrian Science Fund ; Belgian Fonds de la Recherche Scientifique ; Fonds voor Wetenschappelijk Onderzoek ; Conselho Nacional de Desenvolvimento Científico e Tecnológico (CNPq) ; Coordenação de Aperfeiçoamento de Pessoal de Nível Superior (CAPES) ; Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado do Rio de Janeiro (FAPERJ) ; Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado de São Paulo (FAPESP) ; Bulgarian Ministry of Education and Science ; CERN ; Chinese Academy of Sciences ; Ministry of Science and Technology ; National Natural Science Foundation of China ; Colombian Funding Agency (COLCIENCIAS) ; Croatian Ministry of Science, Education and Sport ; Croatian Science Foundation ; Research Promotion Foundation, Cyprus ; Secretariat for Higher Education, Science, Technology and Innovation, Ecuador ; Estonian Research Council , Estonia ; European Regional Development Fund, Estonia ; Academy of Finland ; Finnish Ministry of Education and Culture ; Helsinki Institute of Physics ; Institut National de Physique Nucleaire et de Physique des Particules / CNRS, France ; Commissariat a l'Energie Atomique et aux Energies Alternatives / CEA, France ; Bundesministerium fur Bildung und Forschung, Germany ; Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft, Germany ; Helmholtz-Gemeinschaft Deutscher Forschungszentren, Germany ; General Secretariat for Research and Technology, Greece ; National Scientific Research Foundation, Hungary ; National Innovation Office, Hungary ; Department of Atomic Energy, India ; Department of Science and Technology, India ; Institute for Studies in Theoretical Physics and Mathematics, Iran ; Science Foundation, Ireland ; Istituto Nazionale di Fisica Nucleare, Italy ; National Research Foundation (NRF), Republic of Korea ; Lithuanian Academy of Sciences ; Ministry of Education, University of Malaya (Malaysia) ; BUAP ; CINVESTAV ; CONACYT ; LNS ; SEP ; UASLP-FAI ; Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment, New Zealand ; Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission ; Ministry of Science and Higher Education, Poland ; National Science Centre, Poland ; Fundacao para a Ciencia e a Tecnologia, Portugal ; JINR, Dubna ; Ministry of Education and Science of the Russian Federation ; Federal Agency of Atomic Energy of the Russian Federation ; Russian Academy of Sciences ; Russian Foundation for Basic Research ; Ministry of Education, Science and Technological Development of Serbia ; Secretar a de Estado de Investigacion, Desarrollo e Innovacion, Desarrollo e Innovacion and Programa Consolider-Ingenio, Spain ; ETH Board ; ETH Zurich ; PSI ; SNF ; UniZH ; Canton Zurich ; SER ; Ministry of Science and Technology, Taipei ; Thailand Center of Excellence in Physics, the Institute for the Promotion of Teaching Science and Technology of Thailand ; Special Task Force for Activating Research ; National Science and Technology Development Agency of Thailand ; Scientific and Technical Research Council of Turkey ; Turkish Atomic Energy Authority ; National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, Ukraine ; State Fund for Fundamental Researches, Ukraine ; Science and Technology Facilities Council, U.K. ; US Department of Energy ; US National Science Foundation ; Marie-Curie program ; European Research Council ; EPLANET (European Union) ; Leventis Foundation ; A. P. Sloan Foundation ; Alexander von Humboldt Foundation ; Belgian Federal Science Policy Office ; Fonds pour la Formation a la Recherche dans l'Industrie et dans l'Agriculture (FRIA-Belgium) ; Agentschap voor Innovatie door Wetenschap en Technologie (IWT-Belgium) ; Ministry of Education, Youth and Sports (MEYS) of the Czech Republic ; Council of Science and Industrial Research, India ; HOMING PLUS program of the Foundation for Polish Science ; European Union, Regional Development Fund ; Mobility Plus program of the Ministry of Science and Higher Education (Poland) ; OPUS program, contract Sonata-bis of the National Science Center (Poland) ; Thalis and Aristeia programs - EU-ESF ; Greek NSRF ; National Priorities Research Program by Qatar National Research Fund ; Programa Clarin-COFUND del Principado de Asturias ; Rachadapisek Sompot Fund for Postdoctoral Fellowship, Chulalongkorn University (Thailand) ; Chulalongkorn Academic into Its 2nd Century Project Advancement Project (Thailand) ; Welch Foundation ; Ministry of Education and Research, Estonia ; Ministry of Science, ICT and Future Planning, Republic of Korea ; Science and Technology Facilities Council ; Estonian Research Council , Estonia: IUT23-4 ; Estonian Research Council , Estonia: IUT23-6 ; OPUS program, contract Sonata-bis of the National Science Center (Poland): DEC-2012/07/E/ST2/01406 ; Welch Foundation: C-1845 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K001639/1 CMS Upgrades ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/N000250/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/I000305/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: PP/E002803/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/J005479/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/H000925/2 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: CMS ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003542/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/J004871/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/N000242/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/L005603/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K001639/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/I003622/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/H000925/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/I003622/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/M004775/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/M004775/1 GRIDPP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/M002020/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003542/1 GRID PP ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K001531/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003542/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/N001273/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K003224/1 CMS Upgrades ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: PP/E000479/1 ; Science and Technology Facilities Council: ST/K001256/1 ; Searches for new physics by the CMS collaboration are interpreted in the framework of the phenomenological minimal supersymmetric standard model (pMSSM). The data samples used in this study were collected at root s = 7 and 8 TeV and have integrated luminosities of 5.0 fb(-1) and 19.5 fb(-1), respectively. A global Bayesian analysis is performed, incorporating results from a broad range of CMS supersymmetry searches, as well as constraints from other experiments. Because the pMSSM incorporates several well-motivated assumptions that reduce the 120 parameters of the MSSM to just 19 parameters defined at the electroweak scale, it is possible to assess the results of the study in a relatively straightforward way. Approximately half of the model points in a potentially accessible subspace of the pMSSM are excluded, including all pMSSM model points with a gluino mass below 500 GeV, as well as models with a squark mass less than 300 GeV. Models with chargino and neutralino masses below 200 GeV are disfavored, but no mass range of model points can be ruled out based on the analyses considered. The nonexcluded regions in the pMSSM parameter space are characterized in terms of physical processes and key observables, and implications for future searches are discussed.
Issue 49.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1990. ; REVIEW I:OR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational [nslilule of lhe Sociely of Jesus; Editorial Office; 360~ Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United States $15.00 for onc year; $28.00 for two years. Other countrics: US $20.00 for one year: if airmail, US $35.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Ri~vn-:w FOR R~uc, ous: P.O. Box 60"/0; Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to RF:VlEW vok REI.I~;IOt~S; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Ol990 REVIEW voR REt.l~;Iot~s. David L. Fleming, S.J. iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor "~ Contributing Editor ~.~o' Assistant Editors Advisor\, Board David J. Hassel, S.J. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. Ma\'/June 1990 Volume 49 Number 3 Manuscripts, books fl~r review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW ro~ REt.l~aOt~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the departmenl "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprinls should be ordered from REVIEW VO~ REI.tC;IOt~S; 3601 IAndell Blvd.; St. I~mis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms Internalional; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M1 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write tn the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Questions play an important part in our biblical tradition. The first question presented in the Bible is the one which God directs to us hu-man beings, "Where are you?" In the gospels, Jesus" question, "Who do you say that I am?," demands a response from every Christian, per-haps more than once in a lifetime. "Woman, why are you weeping? Who is it you are looking for?" challenges us in our sorrow and our dis-appointments. "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" pricks the con-science of sinner and saint alike. Not all questions are neatly answered. For example, "how does one pray" and "how does one love" have pieces of answers which together make up a simple but intricate mosaic that stretches as far as human ex-perience can reach. Jesus, in trying to share with us his experience of God, seemed to be most at home in everyday images of the living world around us and the parables which capture some basic human experience writ large. Who does not remember a woman sweeping a house for a lost coin? That is the way God searches out each of us in our lost moments. Who has not been touched by a story of a person, robbed and left half-dead by the roadside, and the various passers-by among whom there is one who cares? From such a parable, we all know a little better what it means to be neighbor. Stories, symbols, and images become so often the prisms whereby we gain new or fresh insight into some of our deepest human and divine realities. Some of our authors in this issue are directly led into their reflec-tions by a question. "What is a priest?" led Richard Hauser, S.J., to his considerations on the "Spirituality of the Ministerial Priesthood.'" Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., is making a report on the Religious Life Futures Project as he looks at the question "Where is Religious Life Go-ing? . Whence Come the Candidates?" stirs Gabrielle Jean, S.C.O., to focus once again on the instrumentation for the screening of candi-dates for the priestly and.religious life vocations. William Mann, F.S.C., raises the question "Brothers, Do We Have a Future?" and enters into his own religious life experience to provide a response. If I could make five wishes for a new novice director, Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D., asks, what would they be? Her answer to that ques-tion is her article "Wishes for a 'Novice' Novice Director." Mary Polu-tanovich, D.C., faces the questions, "do the poor need the artist'? does 321 322 / Review for Religious. May-June 1990 the artist need the poor? how is Christ served and the gospel preached by this charism?" Her reflections are captured in her article "More than Bread: Art, Spirituality, and the Poor." Religious imagination unveils how God may be working in "The As-sociate Movement in Religious Life" according to Rose Marie Jasinski, C.B.S., and Peter C. Foley. Thomas F. McKenna, C.M., seeks out meta-phors as he tries to stimulate our thinking about "Images for the Future of Religious Life." Correcting some metaphors may be important in our understanding of "Obedience and Adult Faith" as presented by James D. Whitehead and Evelyn Eaton Whitehead. Other authors in this issue suggest creative ways to pair a deeper un-derstanding of violence and ministry as a response, the connection be-tween the stages of conversion and the gift of tears as imaged in the spiri-tuality of Catherine of Siena, naming experiences that represent the sur-rendering of ourselves to the Divine Other, discovering the gifts and the pitfalls of praying through a tradition which is non-Christian, and re-flections on the historical sweep of foreign mission involvement and its effect on the renewal movement in women religious congregations dur-ing the past quarter-century. It is true that questions sometimes only lead to more questions. But questions also lead to ways of responding that affect the direction of our lives and our ministry. Some questions can truly affect our relationship with God, with our fellowmen and women, and with our world. Perhaps our authors will raise some of those questions and also provide us with some of those images which will call forth such a personal conversion. The God who asks questions is also a God of surprises. Our Pentecost prayer: recreate in us your own Spirit, Lord. David L. Fleming, S.J. Spirituality of the Ministerial Priesthood Richard J. Hauser, S.J. Father Richard Hauser, S.J. is Chairman of the Theology Department at Creighton University in Omaha. Nebraska. His last article in Rv.\,lv.w FOR R~.L~(;IOUS was pub-lished in July-August, 1986. His address is Creighton University: California at 24th Street: Omaha, Nebraska 68178. [~uring a recent board meeting of the Emmaus Priest Renewal Program I had a disconcerting experience. The discussion moved to the question: what is a priest? For the next hour we worked in vain to come to a con-sensus. In exasperation someone said, '~No wonder priestly morale in the United States is so low. We don't even know what it means to be a priest?" At that point the Emmaus board commissioned me as their theo-logical consultant to put together a five-day retreat on priestly idefitity and spirituality. Immediately I found myself resisting the task, claiming ignorance of the topic. This resistance was even further disconcerting. Since I have been a priest more than twenty years and writing on spiritual topics for almost as long, why wouldn't I have something to say on the spirituality of the priest, supposedly my own spirituality? Gradually I realized that my hesi-tancy had many roots. First I was self-conscious about my identity as priest because rightly or wrongly as a priest I have felt under attack by two very important movements in the Church, the lay movement and the women's movement. As a result I have inadvertently downplayed this aspect of my identity so as not to occasion criticism from these groups. Further as I reflected on the documents of Vatican II, I became more aware that they gave thorough treatment both to the roles of the lay per-son and the bishop in the Church but have said very little about the role 323 :324 / Review for Religious, May-June 1990 of the priest. Though Vatican II did set some new directions for a recon-sideration of the identity of the priest, it did not develop this theology to any great extent. Finally I saw that many currents in the Church have subtly made me hesitant to reflect on the area: the debates on priestly celi-bacy and married clergy, the prevalent--and inadequate--theology of the priest as the "holy man" set apart in a separate caste to "mediate" grace to the laity, the tendency to "clericalize" most ministries in the Church, the ecumenical movement. I should also note that as a priest from a religious congregationl had defined my spirituality almost solely by the charism of n~y order and therefore neglected aspects of spiritual-ity related to my role as priest of the universal Catholic Church. In this I suspect I am typical of many religious order priests. The following reflections are an effort toward a theology of priestly identity and spirituality. I believe the lack of such a theology has had dele-terious effects both on morale of many current priests as well as on re-cruitment of future priests. The American bishops in their statement is-sued 1988 "Reflections on the Morale of Priests" agree that there is a morale problem: " . . it is aiso clear to us that there exists today a se-rious and substantial morale problem among priests in general. It is a prob-lem that cannot be simply attributed to one or another cause or recent event, but its profile and characteristics can be clearly described, and its presence needs to be addressed directly." It is my conviction that one of its causes is an ambiguity about what it means to be a priest. These reflections attempt to address that problem using guidelines from Vati-can II as well as recent documents from the Priestly Life and Ministry Committee of the American bishops. All Christian spirituality flows from incorporation into the Body of Christ through faith and baptism. The priest's spirituality is no excep-tion. Basically, then, priestly spirituality is Christian spirituality. How-ever, since the priest has a special role in the Body of Christ it is appro-priate to discuss how this role specifies the practice of Christian spiri-tuality. But an integral examination of priestly spirituality must first situ-ate the priest within the Body and only then discuss the aspects of spiri-tuality proper to the priest as priest. This article is concerned with priest-hood in the Roman Catholic Church; hence the terms Body of Christ and Church have primary reference to this community. Body of Christ: Priest as Member Priests are members of the Body of Christ. Their dignity as mem-bers of the Body has frequently been obscured by treatment of their spe-cial role within the Body. The Decree on the Ministt3, and Life of Priests Ministerial Priesthood / 325 from Vatican II clearly situates the priest's leadership role through ordi-nation within the priest's membership in the Body through the sacra-ments of initiation: "Therefore, while it indeed presupposes the sacra-ments of Christian initiation, the sacerdotal office of priests is conferred by that special sacrament through which priests, by the anointing of the Holy Spirit, are marked by a special character and are so configured to Christ the priest that they can act in the person of Christ the head" (par. 2). Membership and leadership must be seen together for comprehensive understanding of priestly identity and spirituality. It is significant that Vatican II chose the image of the Body of Christ to discuss priestly identity and ministry. This image highlights both the equality of all in the Body as well as the difference of roles in the Body. The equality of all members within the Body is clear: "There is but one body and one Spirit, just as there is but one hope given all of you by your call. There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all, and works through all, and is in all" (Ep 4:4-6). Equally clear is the difference of roles within the Body: "There are dif-ferent gifts but the same Spirit; there are different ministries but the same Lord; there are different works but the same God who accomplishes all of them in everyone. To each person the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good" ( I Co 12:4-7). Furthermore Paul's image of the Body of Christ highlights the Spirit as the source of all life within the Body. Membership in the Body flows from the Spirit received through faith and baptism. Specific roles (charisms) within the Body flow from the special gifts given by the Spirit to different members of the Body for the sake of the entire Body, Finally, the Church as the Body of Christ shares Christ's mission. This mission so clearly presented in all the Gospels is serving the king-dom of God. Each member is called by baptism to assume a share of re-sponsibility by accepting ministry according to his or her specific charisms. This ministry is oriented to serving the kingdom of God both within the Body of Christ itself as well as beyond the Body in the world. The example is, of course, Jesus himself. Jesus ministered to his disci-ples; the washing of the feet in John's gospel is the most dramatic exam-ple of his role of service to his disciples. Still this concern for his own in no way lessened his ministry toward those outside his community of followers; his preaching, healing, and love extended to everyone he en-countered. These reflections presume that the priest's basic identity is that of a member of the Body of Christ and consequently the priest's ba-sic spirituality will be living that identity. 326 /Review for Religious, May-June 1990 Body of Christ: Priest as Leader As members of the Body of Christ priests have received the Spirit incorporating them into the Body and giving them charisms for the ser-vice of the Church and of the kingdom. What, then, differentiates the priest's identity and spirituality from that of other members of the Body? Most agree that ministerial priesthood in the Church implies a permanent office flowing from charism and formally recognized by the Church. The very important statement of 1977 from the Bishop's Committee on Priestly Life and Ministry "As One Who Serves" expresses the consen-sus well: "In summary, the holder of an office in the Church would be (1) a person endowed by the Spirit, (2) with personal gifts (charisms), (3) called to a public and permanent ministry, and this call is formally recognized by the Church" (par. 20). The fact that this office implies a role of leadership in the community is also agreed upon by the magis-terium and by most theologians. Yet there remain theological disagree-ments on the relationship of the priest's role as head of the Body (always with the bishop) to the Body itself. The discussion is focused on a pas-sage from The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church from Vatican II: "Though they differ from one another in essence and not only in de-gree, the common priesthood of the faithful and the ministerial or hier-archical priesthood are nonetheless interrelated. Each of them in its own special way is a participation in the one priesthood of Christ" (par. 10). Since this article is concerned primarily with the spirituality of priests as leaders of the Body--an identity that is acknowledged by most--it does not seem necessary to treat the doctrinal disputes. Christian spirituality flows from response to the Holy Spirit, the sanc-tifier. Priestly spirituality is simply the priest's effort to respond faith-fully to the Spirit in living the priestly identity as defined by the Church. The Church teaches that ordination establishes the priest in three new, distinctive, and permanent relationships: with Christ, with the Church, and with the world beyond the Church, This identity today includes-- for both diocesan as well as religious order priests--a call to observe the evangelical counsels. Since observing these counsels affects the living out of the three basic relationships, they must be discussed with them. It should be recalled again that this discussion focuses on those aspects of priestly spirituality that distinguish the priest as priest; it does not fo-cus on aspects of spirituality common to all Christians through baptism. Priest and Christ: Person-Symbol of Christ the Head of Body Through ordination the priest is established in a new, distinctive, and permanent relationship to Christ: the priest becomes the person-symbol Ministerial Priesthood / 327 of Christ, the head of the Church. Priests receive an anointing of the Spirit which enables them to act in the name of Christ the head. Thus priests are empowered to act in persona Christi. "As One Who Serves" makes the crucial observation that priests can be the person-symbol of Christ the head of the Body only because of their membership in the Body: "It is only because of the Church that the priest can be said to act in persona Christi. He is called to be an effective sign and witness of the Church's faith in the reconciling Christ, who works through the Church and through the one whom the Church has sent to be the steward of its gifts and services" (par. 22). It is the Body of Christ that is holy through the presence of the Spirit. The priest, as the preeminent head of this Body, becomes the symbol of the holiness of the Body. And as head of this Body, priests can now act in persona ecclesiae and so also in per-sona Christi. Through ordination the priest is established in a special relationship to Christ. As head of the Body, the priest becomes an "effective sign" or sacrament of Christ's authoritative presence in the Church. All aspects of priestly spirituality flow from this relationship. Since it is the role of a symbol to make present what it represents, the priest is called by the Church through ordination to awaken Christ's presence within the com-munity in all service for the community. Consequently all priestly min-istry to the Church must be done in a way that awakens faith within the community. This awakening of faith in others is possible only if the priest has a deep relationship personally with Christ. The biggest chal-lenge of priestly spirituality is becoming internally the Christ symbolized externally. To a great extent the effectiveness of priestly ministry flows from a heart transformed by the Spirit and then ministering to others. All Christians desiring to follow Christ fully are called to observe the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience within their own state of life. The priest is no exception. However, the priest's ob-servance of the evangelical counsels is orientated toward conforming the priest more closely to Christ and so increasing effectiveness as the person-symbol of Christ the head of the Body. The priest today is called by the Church to celibacy and so to meet personal affective needs in ways con-sonant with the celibate state. Christ is the model of priestly celibacy in his relationships with the Father, his community, and his apostolate. Above all the celibacy of Christ was founded on his relationship to his most dear Father, Abba. From within this intimate and often solitary pres-ence before his Father Christ's entire life flowed. Christ's relationship to the Father is the model for the priest's relationship to Christ. As 328 / Review jbr Religious, May-June 1990 Christ's heart flowed instinctively to the Father, so does the priest's heart flow to Christ and the Father. Love unites without obliterating personal distinctiveness. As Christ was able to say "The Father and I are one," and as Paul could say, "I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me," so the priest prays to become equally one with the Father and Jesus. By em-bracing celibacy the priest imitates Jesus in allowing sufferings of fail-ure, loneliness, and isolation to foster even deeper intimacy with God and with Jesus himself. Christ is the model of priestly celibacy in his relationship to his com-munity. He looked to certain of his apostles and disciples for the per-sonal support he needed to sustain the failures and loneliness of his min-istry. So Christ is the model for priests in developing deep human rela-tionship, especially with fellow priests. Finally Christ's affectivity was also directed toward those he served. We recall how Jesus wept over Jerusalem because he was not able to draw the chosen people of God to himself as a mother hen draws her chicks to herself. In embracing the vow of celibacy the priest strives to imitate Christ in each of these three dimensions of affectivity and so become a more effective person-symbol of Christ as head of the Body. To be faithful to the call of today's Church to live this identity of person-symbol of Christ we priests must ask some basic questions. First, do I see my vocation primarily as a call to become Someone, Christ, and not merely as a duty to perform certain ministerial functions closed to others? The Church today is saying to priests that who we are is more primary than what we do; presence has replaced power. We are being called to be so configured to Christ that our actions radiate his presence and so awaken awareness of God's own love. Have I built into my daily life the rhythms necessary both to grow continually in knowledge and love of Christ and to allow this knowledge and love to permeate my ac-tions? And second, have I actively embraced my celibacy'? Do I cherish my celibacy as a gift intended to foster intimacy with Christ and the Fa-ther and thereby increase my effectiveness as a person-symbol of Christ in my leadership? DO I imitate Christ in meeting my affective needs pri-marily in my relationships with Christ and the Father and with my pres-byterate? Do I allow myself to be supported by and do I support my fel-low priests'? Do I allow the crosses of celibacy to deepen intimacy with Christ? Priest and Church: Servant-Leader of Body Through the anointing of the Spirit at ordination the priest is also es-tablished in a new, distinctive, and permanent relationship to the Church: Ministerial Priesthood / 399 the priest becomes the servant-leader of the Church, the "effective sign" of Christ the head of the Body. As the preeminent leader of the community the priest thereby acts in persona ecclesiae. This leadership of the Body is marked by four functions essential for the community. The priest is called to serve the Church by proclaiming the Word of God, by presiding at worship, by pastoral care of the People of God, and by fa-cilitating the different charisms within the Church. But the priest's lead-ership will take many differing forms depending on the talents of the priest and the needs of the community. The American bishops high-lighted the importance of sensitivity to varying forms of priestly leader-ship with which the Spirit endows priests: "All priests are endowed by the Spirit in various ways to serve the People of God. There are forms of leadership . The gifts differ and each must discern in the Spirit how he has been gifted. No one has all the gifts. Some seem to disap-pear in the history of the Church; some are transient even in the lives of priests" ("As One Who Serves," par. 32). Christ is the model for the priest's leadership of the Church. Just as Jesus' love of the Father impelled him to live for the Father's kingdom, so does the priest's love of Christ impel the priest to live for the Body of Christ. The priest wil.I, furthermore, exercise leadership in the same way Jesus exercised leadership--through service: "The Son of Man has not come to be served but to serve--to give his life in ransom for the many " (Mk 10:45). And through the special anointing of the Spirit in ordination Christ now stands with the priest empowering the priest to be an "effective sign" of Christ in all ministry to the Church. Thus the priest can fulfill the vocation to be the sacramental symbol-person of Christ actually awakening Christ's presence in the community through his .daily service. In a new way since Vatican I! priests are being called to facilitate service and leadership of others within the Church. The role has been com-pared to that of a conductor of an orchestra: "The conductor succeeds when he stimulates the best performance from each player and combines their individual efforts into a pattern of sound, achieving the vision of the composer. The best leader is one who can develop the talents of each staff person and coordinates'all their efforts, so that they best comple-ment each other and produce a superior collective effort" ("As One Who Serves," par. 46). In facilitating ministry of others the priest is not unlike Christ who prepared the disciples and then sent them off on their own. The priest recognizes that the Spirit in baptism incorporates mem-bers into the Body and simultaneously gives them differing gifts of min- 330 / Review for Religious, May-June 1990 istry for the Body. Yet according to the above document the priest re-mains the one "in whom the mission of the Church, and therefore its ministry, finds focus and visibility" (34); thus the priest acts within the community preeminently in persona ecclesiae. To enhance the priest's effectiveness as a person-symbol of Christ, the Church calls the priest to evangelical obedience through the promise or vow of obedience to their bishops or ecclesiastical superiors. This prom-ise or vow of obedience places the priest in special union with the uni-versal Church and so enhances the ability to act in persona ecclesiae. The priest symbolizes the unity of the entire Church in Christ: the local parish or community, the diocese, the national Church, the universal Catholic Church. In addition, the priest symbolizes the continuity of the Church through the ages from the apostles and Peter to the present-day bishops and pope. It follows from this that the priest must fully own this position in the Church by loving, protecting, and defending it at every level and, even when called to prophetic criticism, by doing so with love. While acknowledging the Church's faults and foibles past and present, the priest still believes that it is the privileged place of the Spirit's activ-ity in this world for the kingdom of God: "I for my part declare to you, you are "Rock," and on this rock I will build my church, and the jaws of death shall not prevail against it" (Mt 16:18). The model for the priest's obedience is again Christ. Nothing stood between Christ and doing his Father's will. The priest's obedience is to God. The priest is convinced that the will of God is now revealed through the authoritative structures of the Church. In obeying these structures the priest is obeying the Father. The priest's obedience to the bishop or ec-clesiastical superiors gives eloquent testimony to the belief that Christ continues to work through the ages within the authoritative structures of the Church. By embracing the promise or vow of obedience the priest refuses to allow any personal desire not in accord with God's will as ex-pressed through Church superiors to determine actions. The sufferings of obedience to God's will are accepted and offered to the Father in the same manner as Christ's. To be faithful to living this identity of servant-leader of the Body we priests must reflect on our underlying attitudes toward ministry. First, do I truly see myself as servant to my community, that is, do I radiate the attitude of Christ who came to serve and not to be served'? Do I strive to be an effective servant-leader in each of the four major ministerial roles, that is, teaching, presiding at worship, pastoral care, facilitating gifts of community? Or do I find myself holding back in some particular Ministerial Priesthood / 331 aspects of my ministry'? Have I identified charisms of leadership that are unique to me and used these in a special way for the Church? Do I fully grasp that as a person-symbol of Christ in my leadership role I can trust that Christ stands behind each aspect of my ministry enabling me to be an effective sign of his presence'? Second, do I embrace my promise or vow of obedience? Do ! see it as a gift enhancing my effectiveness as a person-symbol of the universal Church, the Body of Christ'? Do I love the Church and protect and defend it at every leve~? If necessary to criti-cize, do I speak in love? Is my obedience ultimately to the Father? Do I allow the crosses of obedience to conform me more totally to Christ'? Priest and Society: Promoter of Justice in the World Through ordination the priest is established in a new, distinctive, and permanent relationship to Christ and to his Church. Contained in this iden-tity is a new relationship to the world beyond the Church. Because the priest now acts in persona ecclesiae and in persona Christi, the priest becomes the preeminent witness of the Church's and Christ's concern for the world. Vatican II and subsequent documents of the Church both on an international and national level have put increasing emphasis on this aspect of the Church's mission. The statement of the World Synod of Bish-ops in 1971 entitled Justice in the World is apt: ". action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully ap-pear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel, or in other words, of the Church's mission." The priest today is called to integrate this dimension into ongoing ministry. The American bishops echo this thrust by presenting their descrip-tion of the priestly ministry under four co-equal divisions: To Proclaim the Word of God, To Preside at Worship, To Serve the Christian Com-munity, To Serve Humankind. The last-named section begins as follows: "The Church is called to serve all of society: that is its mission and the hope of its ministry. While the priest may have a certain primary respon-sibility to the Catholic community which he serves, nonetheless he has been sent by Christ and the Church to all people who comprise the larger community in which the parish community exists. The concern for all people gives reality to the presence of the risen Lord" ('~As One Who Serves," par. 50). The priest has a double role in this ministry to humankind. As ser-vant- leader of the Body tile priest is called to be engaged personally in actions on behalf of justice to witness most effectively to the Church's concern. In addition, the priest is called to facilitate action and leader-ship by others for the transformation of society. Church teachings ac- 339 / Review Jbr Religious, May-June 1990 knowledge that time constraints may limitthe priest's personal involve-ment but also point out that the apostolate within society is also most ap-propriate for the laity: "The apostolate of the social milieu, that is, the effort to infuse a Christian spirit into the mentality, customs, laws, and structures of the community in which a person lives is so much the duty and responsibility of the laity that it can never be properly performed by others. In this area the laity can exercise an apostolate of like towards like" (Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity, para. 33). In addition to working for justice throughout society, the priest is called to have spe-cial concern for the poor: "Although the presbyter has obligations to-wards all persons, he has the poor and the lowly entrusted to him in a special way. The Lord himself showed that he was united to them, and the fact that the Gospel was preached to them is mentioned as a sign of his messianic a.ctivity'" (Decree on the Miniso3, and Life of Priests, par. 6). Again Christ is the model of the priest in this dimension of minis-try. Jesus' concern for others was not limited to his immediate commu-nity of disciples. He continually extended himself beyond his followers to others. His entire ministry is marked with personal compassion for any person who came to him in need. In addition to his one-on-one concern for others, Jesus also spoke out against society's injustices. At times the condemnation was marked by actual disobedience to laws when he viewed them as contradictory to the revelation he received from his Fa-ther. Indeed, his criticism was so threatening to the establishment that it eventually precipitated his death. And finally the Gospel reflects that Jesus had special care and concern for the poorest of the poor, the out-casts of society. The parable of the Last Judgment testifies to the cen-trality in Jesus' eyes of service to the hungry, thirsty, shelterless, impris-oned. To enhance the priest's effectiveness as a witness of Christ, the Church asks all priests to have special concern for evangelical poverty within their own priestly vocation, diocesan or religious. And again the model is Christ himself. Christ was poor. He let no material desire or possession come between himself and doing the Father's will. He was detached from possessions in order to be more free to serve. And Christ chose to live a simple lifestyle, perhaps to be more approachable by the poor or to witness to the sufficiency of the Father's providence for his material needs, taking his cue from the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. Through embracing evangelical poverty the priest refuses to al-low any inordinate attachment to food, clothing, shelter, possessions to Ministerial Priesthood / 333 affect service of the kingdom either within or outside the Body of Christ. With this inner quality of heart the priest thus becomes an even more ef-fective witness of Christ to the Church and world. To be faithful and responsive to the call of promoting justice in the world we priests must ask whether we have adapted to this rather new dimension of priestly ministry. First, does my ministry include leader-ship in witnessing to Christ's concern for the world both through actual "hands-on" service to promote justice in society as well as through fa-cilitating service of my congregation? Most especially am I an effective sign in witnessing to Christ's concern for the most needy and under-privileged of my parish and my society'? Second, what is my attitude to evangelical poverty? Do I desire to imitate Christ by adopting a simple lifestyle? Do I embrace evangelical poverty as a gift because it conforms me more closely to Christ and so makes me a more effective symbol-person of Christ in my leadership, especially in his concern for the poor'? Do I allow the crosses of poverty to deepen my bonds with Christ'? Ministerial Priesthood: Challenge and Consolation The challenge of priesthood is perhaps greater today than ever be-fore. In the ministry of leadership for the Church the priest is called to become the person-symbol of Christ and so live and serve in a way that awakens awareness of God's continual presence and love both for the com-munity and for the world. A recent document from the American bish-ops catches the immensity of this challenge putting it in the context of the role of the pastor today: "The pastor in the parish today becomes-- whether he knows and likes it or not--a religious symbol to his people. The pastor becomes a religious symbol of tradition, the keeper and speaker of the revealed Word in all of its rich expressions. He becomes the religious symbol of God's care for his people, expressing compas-sion for the wounded and outrage at injustice. He becomes the religious symbol of order, calling the community to an effective stewardship of its gifts and shared use of its resources" ("A Shepherd's Care: Reflec-tions on the Changing role of Pastor," 1988). But if the challenge is immense, so is the consolation. Through or-dination the priest exists in a new, distinctive, and permanent relation-ship to Christ, to the Church, and to society. But like all sacraments the sacrament of orders confers the grace it proclaims and signifies. There-fore, priests have the immense consolation of knowing that the Holy Spirit stands behind them enabling them to live this threefold relation-ship conferred at ordination. In their relationship to Christ, the Spirit en-ables priests to be configured to Christ poor, celibate, and obedient and 334 / Review for Religious, May-June 1990 so be more powerful person-symbols of Christ. In their relationship to the Church, the Spirit enables priests to be effective servant-leaders in the fourfold dimensions of priestly ministry: proclaiming the Word of God, presiding at worship, caring for the pastoral needs of community, and facilitating charisms of the community. Finally in their relationship to society, the Spirit enables priests to be eloquent witnesses of Christ's care for.the world in promoting justice in society and most especially in serving the poor both personally and in their leadership of the Body of Christ. Priestly ministry, like all ministry, is a charism, a gift of the Spirit. The challenge for us priests is living in a way that facilitates the Spirit's action. We must take a serious look at our daily schedules and ask whether they, in fact, foster our living in tune with the Spirit, thereby growing in knowledge and love and Christ and so radiating a Christ-presence in all our ministry. Being fully effective sacramental signs of Christ demands daily attention to our physical, emotional, and spiritual needs. And this may require rearrangement of our schedules, especially to assure we have the leisure to grow in an ever deeper union with Christ whom we sacramentalize in our leadership. A recent document from the Priestly Life and Ministry Committee pointedly advises us that the crite-ria for the effectiveness of our ministry ought not be the quantity of our work but its quality: "One of the most probable causes of difficulties with spirituality in a priest'~ life today is simply his ability to find (or at least justify) sufficient time to spend in solitude and prayer. A consci-entious priest, especially when under pressure of incessant demands, can forget that the quality of his work is more important than the quantity. What people are looking for in him more than anything else is a spiri-tual guide and model who will help them come to know the Lord and find his peace. Thus he must be, first of all and above everything else, a man of God's peace. Regular time each day for prayer, meditation, and spiritual reading is a sine qua non for the unfolding in a priest's life of an authentic Christ-centeredness" ("The Priest and Stress," 1982). There are many ministries in the Body of Christ. The priest's is but one of these, yet it is distinctive. Only the priest is called by today's Church to a ministry of leadership whose essence is symbolizing Christ's presence. Hopefully a deeper appreciation of this calling will have its ef-fect on morale of current priests as well as attract many others to this vo-cation. Where is Religious Life Going? M. Basil Pennington. O.C.S.O. Father Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., is well known for his conferences and writings on centering prayer. His address is Assumption Abbey: Route 5: Ava, Missouri 65608. This is a question that is being asked with concern not only by religious themselves and the Church at large but even by the wider community. One significant indication of this is the fact that a secular foundation has recently given a secular university over a half million dollars to study the question. Lilly Endowment, Inc. has awarded Boston University a $575,000 grant to have its Center for Applied Social Sciences serve as the site to study the question "Factors Influencing the Transformation of Religious Life in the Catholic Church in the United States." This cur-rent research grant follows the successful completion of an earlier $100,000 planning grant. It is almost twenty-five years since the close of the Second Vatican Council which called for an adaptation and renewal of religious life. In that time the average age of members of many religious congregations and monastic communities has increased dramatically while the number of members has decreased just as dramatically. Many traditional works of religious have been called into question. New works have been un-dertaken and the whole understanding of mission reconsidered by some groups. The sense of separation from the laity is greatly diminished. Lay persons take a much greater part in the life and mission of religious and religious generally feel closer to the active lay Catholic. What does all this portend for the future'? More importantly, what must religious do in order to be truly renewed, adapted to the twenty-first century Church, so that they may continue to bring to the Church 335 336 / Review Jot" Religious, May-June 1990 and to society as a whole the gift that they are? The proposal submitted to the Lilly Endowment set forth six basic or broad objectives for the study: I. Identify the interpretative schemes used by reli-gious to describe the meaning structure of their commit-ment and their perceptions of the distinctions of religious life in relation to the other ministerial roles in the Church. The interpretive schemes will be examined from the perspective of the psychological, theological, and or-ganizational changes that have occurred over time, with special attention to the degree to which religious orders are becoming more or less distinct. 2. Describe and analyze the psychological, struc-tural, and organizational changes that have occurred and those yet to occur both in religious life in general and within congregations in order to predict the future shapes of religious life. 3. Identify individual religious who are perceived as the emergent leaders of religious life and explore with them systematically the changes that have occurred and must yet occur if religious life is to remain a vital social and ecclesial reality. 4. Describe and analyze some effects of change and perceptions of religious life on the commitment of in-dividual religious, former religious, and recent candi-dates to religious life. 5. Describe the environmental influences on re-ligious life in the United States, including cultural shifts that influence commitments, the supply and demand econ-omy for religious service, and the enhancement of the role of the laity in the Church within the historical con-text of theology. 6. Provide a paradigm for developing strategies of leadership that will enable leaders to move the pro-cess of renewal that was begun in Vatican II through a process of systematic transformation. The term "interpretive schemes" may not be familiar to many but it refers to a very important factor in religious life. Interpretive schemes are made up of the understanding the members of the group or commu-nity share in regard to the world and their place in it. They are primary Where is Religious Life Going? in drawing the members together, giving them a shared sense of belong-ing. These guide religious as they interpret their own past and look at their present environment, select their value priorities, and allocate their resources. Oftentimes these interpretive schemes are not explicitly articu-lated by a group. They are revealed rather in the metaphors the mem-bers use to describe their community, the stories they tell and the rites they celebrate. Transformation involves a shift in interpretive schemes. The pro-posal describes transformation as "qualitative, discontinuous shifts in organization members, shared understandings of the organization, accom-panied by changes in the organization's mission, strategy, and formal and informal structures." Transformation usually begins with a crisis that unfreezes dominant organizational members' current interpretative schemes by presenting a significant challenge to their validity. The Sec-ond Vatican Council did this to religious. But not the Council alone. The transition from the modern to the postmodern era, one of the three great cultural shifts in the history of humankind necessarily brought on a "cri-sis" for all human organizations. The next step in the transformation pro-ess is the development of alternative interpretative schemes leading to new types of action which in turn leads to changes in the structure of the organization. There is likely to be considerable conflict among the origi-nal and developing interpretive schemes and the subgroups espousing them. Leaders of the community will necessarily have a large impact on the process and its outcome. If they support only one perspective they are likely to decrease the potential creativity of the transformational pro-ess and the sense of belonging and involvement of the members whose perspectives have not been taken into account. If they try to separate out the different perspectives they are likely to perpetuate splints within the community. If they facilitate the interaction among the conflicting per-spectives they will increase the chances of paradoxical outcomes of trans-formation, of new and creative shared understandings, of a truly renewed and vital religious life. During the course of the process members will experience discomfort both with the ambiguities and the confusion. The conflict of understandings and those who espouse them will create ten-sions. But when (and if) a new synthesis is reached that is experienced by the whole group as acceptable, there will not only be a sense of satis-faction but there will be a new force in the community for life. In its study of the factors influencing the transformation for religious life, the study is going to give special attention to two: the environment, 338/Review for Religious, May-June 1990 that is, the factors external to the community that impinge on it in some way and can effect the transformation process by inducing the crisis and affecting the development of new interpretative schemes, and the lead-ership. Two types of leadership within the communities need to be and will be considered. There are formal leaders, those who are designated to see that the roles, resources, and necessary structures are maintained to provide for both the mission and the members. Emergent leaders are members who are generally recognized in the community as complemen-tary to the formal leaders, but distinct from them in purpose and func-tion. These often act as catalysts for new ideas within the community and, as such, are seldom selected by the membership to represent them. The study hopes to explore the underlying changes in interpretive schemes both qualitatively and quantitatively arid at several levels: within the social institution of religious life as such, within individual congre-gations, and within individual members of religious communities. This will involve questionnaires, regional meetings, and individual interviews to be carried out over the course of the next two to three years. The proposal sees as the outcome of the project: I. Identification of the normative beliefs about reli-gious life and how they will likely shape the future of re-ligious life in this country. 2. Build a national comparative data base of all male and female religious that includes current demographic data, membership information, existing and emerging structures, current member attitudes on multiple dimen-sions, and projections for the future. 3. Enable the leadership of religious communities to identify in the current context paradigms of planning that enable transformation, consolidation, merging, or extinc-tion. 4. Label the changes that must yet occur if reli-gious life is to remain a vital social and theological gift to the Church into the next millennium. The results of the study will, of course, be published and generally available to interested parties. But the researchers hope also to work with organizations and groups of religious to consider and further explore the findings. The principal researchers for the project are David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis. Father Nygren is a Research Associate at the Center for Applied Social Science, a unit of the Graduate School of Boston Uni- Where is Religious Life Going? / 339 versity. He has been a member of the Congregation of the Mission (Vin-centians) since 1968 and has served his congregation in many capacities over the years. He holds six academic degrees. Sister Miriam, a mem-ber of the Congregation of Sisters of Saint Joseph of Carondelet, is com-pleting a term as a Post-Doctoral Fellow at the Harvard Community Health Plan, Boston. She is a clinical psychologist by profession and has served as a director of the House of Affirmation in Hopedale, Massachu-setts. Besides the extensive facilities of the Center for Applied Social Sci-ence, the researchers will be aided by a National Advisory Board which includes Archbishop Thomas Kelly, O.P., the newly elected chairper-son of NCCB's Committee on Religious; Abbot James Jones, O.S.B. of Conception Abbey; Howard Gray, S.J., former provincial of the Detroit Province, five religious women, two brothers, a monk and two represen-tatives from the Lilly Endowment. The Advisory Board will meet regu-larly with the researchers to assess the results of their work and offer guid-ance to the pursuit of the project. The success of the project will, of course, depend largely on the col-laboration of religious, both as groups and as individuals. But the bene-fits that they can hope to reap from it are considerable, so such collabo-ration is well assured. However, they will not be the only ones to profit from the study. Reviewing the expected outcomes it is easy to see why the Lilly Endowment and a community oriented university are willing to make such a considerable investment in this study. If the study does suc-ceed in producing the results it projects, there can be little doubt as to the significance of the contribution it will make not only to the Church but to society as a whole by enlivening and promoting the social outreach which depends so heavily on the leadership and support of the religious communities. Whence Come the Candidates? Gabrielle L. Jean, S.C.O. Sister Gabrielle Jean, S.C.O., last appeared in these pages with her article. "'The Alcoholic Religious Woman," in September/October 1985. Her address is 715 Per-shing Drive: Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. Over the past several years, authoritative articles on the assessment of can-didates for the priestly/religious life have appeared in Catholic periodi-cals. Kraft (1978)~ clearly stated the differential role and competencies of the psychiatrist and psychologist relative to evaluation and treatment of religious personnel. While both professional groups are involved in therapy, the psychiatrist focuses on the abnormal behavior while the psy-chologist deals with a much broader range of human behaviors. The psy-chiatrist's forte lies in his medical expertise and pharmacological arma-mentarium; the clinical psychologist's educational background provides for research and evaluation of human behavior, especially personality as-sessment. Kraft strongly recommended that such professionals have a working knowledge and appreciation of the role of spirituality in the life of religious men and women. Values incongruent with those of the cli-ent could prove prejudicial to his or her ongoing spiritual growth. A more recent article by O'Connor (1988)~- addressed the appraisal of candidates with attention directed to the formation process, the test-ing of the applicant's spirit, assessment of his or her motivation and fit-ness for the chosen institute. The key elements lie in the interactional pro-ess of interview and dialogue. The present article focuses on the instrumentation for the screening of candidates, that is, the psychological tests selected for that purpose. It is intended to inform superiors, vocations directors, and formation teams of the rationale and philosophy inherent in the selection of instru- 340 Whence Come the Candidates? / 34"1 ments; a "model" battery will then be suggested. Do the candidates come from the general "normal" population or from a psychiatric pool? The choice of instruments such as the MMPI (Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory), TAT (Thematic Apper-ception Test) and Rorschach Inkblots reflect the latter since they are stan-dardized or normed on a psychiatric or dysfunctional population. Granted, they provide valuable information (in terms of impairment), but would it not be more helpful for the formation teams to know the strengths and weaknesses of the personality of their candidates? Would they not be in a better position to maximize the psychological and spiri-tual growth of their charges with a positive set of data on them'? If one begins the psychological screening process with scales normed on a psy-chiatric population, the results can only reveal the extent of the pathol-ogy found in that individual when compared to psychiatrically impaired individuals. The strengths of the personality are clouded by the pathol-ogy and the formation personnel are left to ferret for themselves the per-sonal resources of the recruits. Personality measurement is a typically American phenomenon; it originated in the United States and has evolved greatly, especially since the early 50s. Its scope includes both personality inventories (standard-ized on the general population) and instruments designed more specifi-cally to detect the presence and extent of behavior pathology. The re-spective personality theories provide the background for such instruments and caution the user relative to the holistic nature of the person. Because of the importance of the psychological screening process, further clarification seems warranted, especially since Vatican II alerted to the need of heeding the advances made in the behavioral sciences. So-ciology and psychology do shed scientific light on human behavior both as individuals and in groups. Purpose and Ethics Tests are standardized tools for the measurement of individual dif-ferences in intellectual, emotional, social, and motivational aspects of behavior. Personality assessment focuses primarily on the emotional ad-justment, social relationships, motivation, attitudes, interests, and val-ues of the individual. The American Psychological Association has codified ethical prin-ciples to govern psychological testing. Many personality tests are re-stricted to qualified users, and the qualifications vary with the type of test. The rationale is that test scores should be released only by and to persons qualified to interpret them. The candidate is entitled to know the 342 / Review for Religious, May-June 1990 information he or she revealed in the testing. Knowledge of the test scores only may be emotionally disturbing to the candidate; they should be properly interpreted to him or her in a situation that allows for dis-cussion of the results. Many personality instruments and measures of emotional, motiva-tional, or attitudinal traits are necessarily disguised; the subject may re-veal characteristics about the self without realizing that he or she is do-ing so. It is of primary importance that the examinee have a clear understanding of the use that will be made of the test results, who will receive the report, and how long it will remain in his or her file. Quot-ing directly from the Ethical Standards of Psychologists: "The psycholo-gist who asks that an individual reveal personal information in the course of interviewing, testing, or evaluation, or who allows such information to be divulged to him, does so only after making certain that the person is aware of the purpose of the interview, testing, or evaluation and of the ways in which the information may be used." No report should be sent without the consent of the examinee through a "release of confiden-tiality" form. The receiver of such information is bound by confiden-tiality; the information is privileged; if the examinee agrees to release such information, it is because it will be handled as privileged commu-nication. Evaluation: Testing, Interviews, or What? There are many arguments for and against testing, and I wish to share my biases with you; I do so willingly because psychological test-ing is my area of specialization and, therefore, I feel better qualified to support them than I would be in other areas of psychology. The arguments I would advance in favor of a sound testing program are these. First, it serves to provide an appraisal of candidates who feel attracted to the religious/priestly life. Secondly, it can help the candidate gain insight into his or her own behavior. Thirdly, it can serve as a basis for counseling in view of overall personal growth. The reservations I would have to comprehensive testing are many; my remarks here pertain primarily to candidate assessment for the priestly/religious life. ( I ) Psychiatric screening should not be required of all candidates; if the findings on the personality inventory suggest more than average pa-thology, a psychiatric instrument could be used to determine the extent of the pathology. If psychiatric screening is required for all candidates, are we not suggesting that our pool of subjects lies in the "disturbed" group? However, I favor scheduling a psychiatric interview/evaluation Whence Come the Candidates? / 343 for applicants to monastic life. The withdrawal from the world implied in the lifestyle could attract individuals ill-equipped for social inter-course. (2) There is a danger of categorizing people for life, very much like the penal system where no room is allowed for growth and change. (3) In the hands of poorly trained people, these instruments are ex-tremely dangerous. Granted that most formation personnel would not ad-minister the tests themselves, there is still grave danger that reports will be misinterpreted. People with little sophistication in this area tend to put more faith in the instruments than is warranted. (4) The use of test information for acceptance/refusal makes sense only if the results are validated by information from other sources: let-ters of reference, observed behavior, and the like, No matter how good and competent that psychiatrist or psychologist is, the dynamics of grace elude measurement, and everyone involved in the assessment process must be mindful of this fact. (5) I would not advocate involvement in a screening program unless there is a willingness to share the information with the candidate. A good policy is to provide a feedback interview to discuss the test findings with the examinee. Should the evaluation be psychodiagnostic (with the use of psychiatric questionnaires), the feedback would then be provided by the therapist who would be in a better position to decide on the timing for such disclosure. In all such work, Catholic psychologists consciously strive for the fundamental attitude which Pope Pius XII advocated in 1953: 'Psychotherapy and clinical psychology must always consider man as a psychic unity and totality; as a structured unit in itself; as a social unit and as a transcendent unit, that is to say, in man's tending towards God.' ,3 Candidate Assessment We are reminded through the Second Vatican Council documents that the unity of the Church thrives on the variety of gifts in its mem-bers. In Perfectae Caritatis, it is explicitly stated that religious are to bring "to the execution of commands and to the discharge of assign-ments entrusted to them the resources of their minds and wills and their gifts of nature and grace" (PC, Art. I). The text is supported by Paul's I Corinthians: "All these gifts are the work of one and the same Spirit, distributing them separately to each individual at will" (I Co 12:l I). The decree on religious life was intended for all religious men and women, whether in the ranks or in authority. It must be admitted; how- 34"4 / Review for Religious, May-June 1990 ever, that when it comes to acknowledging the "special gift of each," we are somewhat in the dark. The Superior/Director/Coordinator is ex-pected to be respectful of the Giver of gifts by avoiding arbitrary assign-ments. The religious man or woman may be an individualist who feels that one owes it to oneself to fulfill the self in the sense of using one's gifts for personal enhancement and satisfaction; a correct interpretation would lead one to regard all gifts as intended for service to the commu-nity and to the whole Church. A scientific way of arriving at a knowledge of these gifts is psycho-logical testing and evaluation. I would set as one of the primary func-tions of candidate assessment: the identification of the assets of the indi-vidual. There is room for screening out undesirable applicants but this aspect of screening should not supersede the screening in of those who have great gifts of heart and mind to use in the service of the Church. As a marginal note, may I add that it is usually enlightening for the vocation directors (or whoever requests the assessment) to subject him-self or herself to the whole process. It may be an eye-opener as to the anxiety-provoking experience of personality assessment. For some cli-ents, self-disclosure is a very traumatic experience, and counseling may be advised. For most who have been exposed to testing in all forms, the whole procedure is taken in stride. Criteria Used What are we looking for in a good candidate to the priesthood/ religious life? The criteria have generally been clearly stated by the vari-ous religious groups, rectors of seminaries, experienced masters in the formation of candidates, and vocation directors. In general, they can be grouped as follows. ( 1 ) Intelligence I think we are justified in looking for average intelligence or better; without it, a religious professional cannot grasp the import of his or her commitment to Church service within the framework of a religious life-style. During the assessment, the candidate's intellectual efficiency is con-sidered in the light of one's intellectual potential. Does the client oper-ate better in a situation where conformity is rewarded or where auton-omy and independence are viewed as positive behaviors? The individ-ual's cognitive style is also studied along with factors capable of reduc-ing his or her mental efficiency such as anxiety, perfectionism, compul-sivity, or poor thought control. (2) Personality Here, it is important to have inventories/questionnaires standardized Whence Come the Candidates? / 345 on a non-psychiatric population; the candidate is not expected to live in a psychiatric ward! Instruments are usually selected which address prin-cipally the personality characteristics important for social living and so-cial interaction. Attention focuses first on personal integration: the individual's self-concept as covered by such factors as social presence, sociability, self-acceptance, sense of well-being. The candidate's social maturity and re-sponsibility come under scrutiny in a cluster of scales tapping socializa-tion, self-control, and tolerance. Temperamental variables such as per-sistence, cooperation, aggressiveness, tact, moodiness, impulsiveness, and adaptability are given some attention. The motivational aspects of the applicant are usually considered in a separate scale covering the home environment, career, religion, social endeavors, needs, values, and in-terests. A social-religious orientation is usually a more favorable indica-tor of a true call than a political or power orientation. (3) Sexuality This area is considered critical for today's candidates who will com-mit themselves to a celibate life. Projective techniques (disguised tasks) are used in this case to assess the basic sexual orientation of the candi-date and impulse control. The leads provided by the test data are openly discussed with the candidate in view of verification of the findings and subsequent recommendations. Not all information gathered in the inter-view need to be reported; problems resolved earlier fall in this category. (4) Magisterium The candidates are also queried about their attitudes toward author-ity, toward the Church and her teachings, and toward the ministry or apos-tolate. Feedback The feedback interview can be used advantageously to cover impor-tant areas such as interpersonal relationships: at home, at school, and at work, and for the older candidates, relationship to the local church. The individual can be further interrogated relative to anger and hostility: what triggers his or her anger and how is it handled? Recommendations for the proper handling of st.tong emotions are usually in order. The area of sexuality is probed further: orientation, ~,ex education, if given (when, by whom), dating history, the applicant's understanding of celibacy/ chastity, and his or her readiness to make the commitment to a celibate life. The last area tapped in the interview pertains to "spiritual evolu-tion," or the applicant's personal spiritual journey. When was he or she first attracted to the Church, (rites, sacraments, music, service, and so 346 /Review for Religious, May-June 1990 forth) and how did that attraction grow (or lapse) in the course of his or her life? Conclusion It is obvious to whoever has read up to this point that the evaluation/ assessment of candidates is serious business and a time-consuming propo-sition. Is it not worth the effort for a lifetime of service to the Church? The full day of testing and the few hours needed for the feedback/ interview are little when one considers the benefits to be derived through a lifetime of dedicated service to others. It is a rewarding task tbr the examiner who is constantly confronted with the promptings of grace in the life of today's young people. NOTES ~ William F. Kraft, "'Psychiatrists, Psychologists and Religious." R~vw.w FOR RF.LIGIOUS, Vol. 37, (1978), pp. 161-170. 2 David F. O'Connor, "Appraising Candidates for Religious Life or Priesthood," Human Development IX (Fall. 1988), pp. 26-30. 3 Address of His Holiness Pope Plus XII, "On Psychotherapy and Religion," Fifth International Congress on Psychotherapy and Clinical Psychology (April 13, 1953). Converted i come into Your glorious presence Changed, Newly dressed In Your garments, Feeling strangely at home there. Delighted, excited, I am waiting . . . Longing once more For Your kiss of peace. Sister Columba Howard St. John of God Convent P.O. Box 14 SUBIACO 6008 Western Australia Wishes for a "Novice" Novice Director Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D. Sister Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D. is currently dividing her time between teaching and writing. She served as novice director for six years. Her address is Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg. Virginia 22117. For six years I was novice director for my religious community. During those years, the number of novices I had was anywhere between nine and one. As I reflect back on my experience as novice director, especially now that I have a little distance from that ministry, I ask myself, "What advice would I give to a new novice director--to a novice novice direc-tor? What would I wish for him or her?" There are many things I could say, much I could wish for. But if I had to limit myself to five words of advice, five wishes, what would they be? My answer to that question is this article. Warning.t Self-knowledge. Beware.t And give thanks. In my second year as novice director, I made my annual retreat as usual. During my first one-on-one conference, the retreat director asked me what my min-istry was. When I told him I was novice director for over a year, he smiled and said, "Well, well! I bet you've come to a beck of a lot of self-knowledge this past year!" His words struck me. They encapsulated something I had been experiencing, but something I had not yet been able to name: formation ministry has a terrible and marvelous way of en-couraging growth in self-knowledge--and this growth is usually accom-panied by discomfort, confusion, or even pain. Prior to becoming novice director, I had been a successful teacher and free-lance writer. It was easy for me to begin to find a good meas-ure of security in my obvious successes in these two areas. Success has 347 348 / Review for Religious, May-June 1990 an insidious way of leading us into a kind of "spiritual coziness." My success tended to give me the illusion that, indeed, God is in his heaven, I am in my classroom or at my typewriter, and all is well in the world. Formation work, which was both new and challenging, had a way of nudg-ing me (sometimes even shoving me) out of my complacency. I noticed my prayer becoming less pharisaical: "I thank you, Lord, that I am so successful!" and more "publican-ish": "Lord, now what do I do? Help!" As disconcerting as this growth in self-knowledge was at times, I see it now as a very real blessing for me. There is another reason why formation work was such a challenge for me personally. Both teaching and writing have goals and objectives by which one can, to an extent, measure one's success. Are my students learning? Yes. Are editors accepting my articles? Yes. The'n I am doing something right. I am a success. But formation ministry does not have such clear-cut ways of measuring success. In fact, by some measures, I was quite unsuccessful as novice director. Were novices flocking to our novitiate now that I was director? No. In fact, the formation team and I were not even accepting all of the few that did apply. Once they came to our novitiate, did they stay'? No. Some stayed, but many left. And, worse yet, some of the ones that did leave, ! even encouraged to leave. Formation ministry forced me to redefine success. More than that, it caused me to question how much l needed success in order to minis-ter. The ministry of formation challenged me to devote time, energy, and creativity to a work that, for the most part, did not give me the steady encouragement of measurable results. It called forth new kinds of strengths in me--such as patience, trust, letting go, and greater depen-dence on others who could help me. I needed such qualities which might otherwise have remained undeveloped because of apparent outward suc-cess. Decisions, decisions! Shortly after receiving my appointment as nov-ice director, I met my own novice director in the lunch line at our pro-vincial house. She had been a novice director for more than twenty years. Now, confined mostly to a wheelchair, she continues to serve the com-munity in the mailroom and archives. When she saw me in the lunch line, she took me aside, wished me well, and then said, "Just remem-ber: as long as you believe your decisions are right before God, that's all you've got to worry about." In those few words, my novice director had gotten to the core of for-mation ministry: the making of decisions. For me, the crux of being nov-ice director (and I use the word "crux" intentionally) was having to Wishes for a Novice Director I 349 make a decision that affected the future of another human being. Of course, I knew that I was not totally responsible for deciding whether a woman should remain in our novitiate or leave. The novice herself played a paramount role in that decision. I also knew full well that I had other people I could and did consult for valuable advice and input. I also realized that the provincial and her council ultimately were responsible for this decision. But despite knowing these things in my head, I still felt in my heart that the decision whether a novice should stay or leave was essentially mine. For me there was nothing ever easy about making such a decision--one way or the other. And there certainly was nothing easy about being the one to tell a novice that she could not stay--especially if she was unable to understand why. As I told my provincial superior onc+ after the council had decided to let a candidate go, "You're not the one who has to look into her eyes and tell her. I do." For me personally, this was the greatest challenge as novice direc-tor: trying to make the right decision for each individual. It meant I also had to face the possibility that, despite my conscientiousness and my good will, I could, indeed, make the wrong decision about someone. I had to ask myself, "Do I trust God enough that ! can be at peace with every decision I make? Can I entrust even a possible wrong decision to his love and creativity?" I never fully appreciated what a burden this was for me until I no longer bore it. After | left formation work, I was given other big respon-sibilities- among them was being local superior of a rather large com-munity. But, so far, none of these new responsibilities quite compares with the responsibility I felt as novice director: having to make a deci-sion that profoundly affects the future life direction of another person and a religious community. At the risk of sounding pious, this is a burden we cannot bear alone. As my own novice director implied, we make our decisions before God. I add: we also make them with God. With hoops of steel. In Shakespeare's Hamlet, Polonius gives some beautiful advice to his son, Laertes, before he sets out on his own. His words of advice should be given to every new novice director: Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel. l, iii One of the greatest needs of a novice director is friends. Hopefully, most novice directors enter their ministry with a "generous supply" of good and loyal friends. But even if this is the case, a novice director soon 350/Review for Religious, May-June 1990 learns that the ministry of formation has some built-in obstacles to the retention of friends. First of all, as novice director, I was in a ministry all by myself. No one else in my community did exactly what I did. As a teacher and writer, I had enjoyed the camaraderie of other sisters in my community who were actively engaged in the same ministry. We swapped stories, shared ideas, and encouraged each other in our com-mon ministry. But when I became novice director, I suddenly had no one. There is another reason for the sense of aloneness that novice direc-tors sometimes feel. Much of our ministry involves things we cannot talk about or share with others. Even our schedule may prevent us from so-cializing with our friends. For example, as a teacher I looked forward to weekends when I had a little time to "unwind" with my sisters and friends. But as novice director, my weekends suddenly became my busi-est time. That was when 1 had classes with the novices, I tried to see them individually, and I "socialized" with them. These factors cannot be allowed to become excuses fo~" losing touch with our friends. But they are challenges for us to find new and creative ways to "grapple" our friends to our souls "with hoops of steel." Eventually, I did find considerable support from novice directors in other religious communities. Sometimes when we got together, we tended to "talk shop." We found ourselves talking only about problems in formation and expressing to each other worries and frustration. This has its place, of course, but we soon realized we needed each other not merely to "gripe with" but also to "play with." As a new novice di-rector, find ingenious ways to hang on to your old friends, and be ready and eager to make new ones. The wideness of the sea. One of my favorite old hymns says this: "There's a wideness in God's mercy like the wideness of the sea." I think we could paraphrase those words and say. "There should be a wideness in a novice director's life like the wideness of the sea." A nov-ice director could be tempted to live in a very narrow world--a world no larger than his or her novitiate. Do not succumb to this temptation. It is important for a novice director to receive some professional prepa-ration for the ministry of formation. Yes. It is also vital for him or her to keep abreast of developments in the field of formation. Definitely. But we novice directors must not limit our input solely to formation. My ad-vice is to widen your world. Get involved with other groups of people, with issues besides formation and religious life. As novice director, for example, I taught a course in pastoral ministry at our college almost Wishes for a Novice Director / 351 every semester. The course met once a week in the evenings. Teaching that course was extremely healthy and beneficial for me. When I was not teaching a course, I was often taking a course. Some of these courses had nothing to do directly with formation. I also continued to write arti-cles for publication--the vast majority of them riot on formation. I know other novice directors who widened their world by being life guards at swimming pools, music ministers in parishes, volunteers in soup kitch-ens, or teachers in seminaries. As directors, we need ample time for a ministry of formation, true. Bui we also need time to extend our bounda-ries beyond the walls of the novitiate and our religious community. Let them love you. So far I have said nothing specifically about the novices themselves. As novice director, you must love your novices. Sometimes your love will take the form of gentleness and kindness. Other times it will assume the shape of firmness or even apparent hard-ness. Whatever form it takes, love is essential. This goes without say-ing. But there is a flip side to this fact that gets too little attention: allow your novices to love you. Be open to their love. More than that, encour-age it, welcome it. As directors we can become overly conscious of our role as director, as formator. We can shield ourselves from the give-and-take of relationships by setting strick boundaries with our novices. I am director, you are directee. I form you. I love you. Formation becomes a one-way street. When we do this, we are forgetting this great truth about formation: while we are helping to form our novices, they are also helping to form us. If we allow them. My novices helped form me in many ways--sometimes gently, other times almost roughly. They formed me by their honesty and humility-- especially in the one-on-one sessions I had regularly with each one. I was always amazed at how the novices were, for the most part, incredibly honest with themselves. By their honesty, they encouraged me to be more honest with them. During my six years, I found myself trusting the novices more and more. I had always basically trusted other people, I believe, but my six years as novice director only encouraged this atti-tude. The novices ministered to me at times in my need. One time a friend of mine in the community was dying of cancer. I left her infirmary room one night on the verge of tears. Shortly afterwards I ran into one of my novices in the hall. My initial reaction was to put on a cheerful front and hide my tears from her. After all, I was her director. In fact, I was the one who had dried the tears of this particular novice on more than one 359 / Review for Religious, Mav-Jttne 1990 occasion. But when I saw the concerned expression on her face, I was unable to hold back my tears. I cried, "Nadine's dying." Without a word, she took me in her arms and held me for a few minutes, comfort-ing me. In one way, it was a reversal of roles, but I still treasure the mem-ory of that moment when I allowed the novice to minister to me. Sometimes novices will love us in "tougher" ways--challenging our judgments, questioning our decisions, asking us to explain something we would just as soon leave unexplained. As novice directors, we must be open to that kind of love, too. My father, now retired, spends much time growing things on my par-ents' three-and-one-half acre plot of land. He grows apple trees, exotic grapes, peach trees, English walnut trees, and'the like. He once told me, "I get a kick out of figuring out how to help things grow." I would hope that every new novice director could say something similar: "I get a kick out of figuring out how to help people grow." My final wish for the "novice" novice director is this: May you figure out (often through trial and error--plus the help of God's grace) how to help (not "make" or "'force") people grow. And, in the process of your helping, may you yourself grow in faith, hope, love, and much joy! Retreat at Glenstal Abbey I have no preacher here but only quiet trees that pray one solemn silent so-be-it frown cell, from sap, from sinewed standing stem frown bough and branch from twig and sprig all said all summed in this brief silent now. The Master called and with the stars each answered to the limit of every limned lettered lace-like latticed leaf: "Here 1 am." Cothrai Gogan, c.s.sp. Naraiga Catholic Church Box 220 Limuru Kenya, Africa The Associate Movement in Religious Life Rose Marie Jasinski, C.B.S., and Peter C. Foley Sister Rose Marie Jasinski. C.B.S. is currently director of the associate community for the Sisters of Bon Secours and president of Bon Secours St. Joseph Hospital and Nursing Care Center in Port Charlotte, Florida. Peter C. Foley is presently working as a free-lance consultant and facilitator for religious congregations, dioceses, and parishes. Correspondence should be addressed to Associate Membership Office: Sis-ters of Bon Secours: 1525 Marrionsville Road: Marriottsville, Maryland 21104. The task of the imagination, specifically the religious imagination, has been described as naming, even "composing," the real. Another way of saying this is that the religious imagination unveils where God is at work among us. Stories of God at work, and of the unfolding of a real-ity whose scope and power have not yet been imagined were told in May 1989 at the Bon Secours Spiritual Center in Marriottsville, Maryland where more than 100 Directors of Religious Associate Memberships, and associates too, gathered to share the histories of their associate move-ment. It was the first such gathering of lay people and religious designed .just to explore how spiritualities or charisms of the Church, previously identified with particular religious congregations, were being assimilated by groups of lay people who claim the identity, history, and traditions of a particular spirituality as their own. The reality that emerged is that the traditional spiritualities are alive and well, even flourishing, but in ways we had not imagined. Most congregations reported more applicants to the associate program than to the congregation, and some associate members outnumbered the sisters themselves. But even more striking than the rapid growth of associate memberships was the intensity of the 353 Review for Religious, May-June 1990 commitment brought to them. These were not casual or sentimental re-lationships- it was clear that there was great personal significance in be-longing to an evolving spiritual community. This powerful movement has been quietly erupting within the Church for the last ten to fifteen years. Among the groups gathered to-gether in May we discovered associate members of women, men, sin-gle, married, of various professions, of differing faiths and even a few clergy and religious of other congregations. Associate membership tends to look and act differently within individual religious communities. The basic ingredient, however, is a strong emphasis on forming bonds be-tween laity and religious around a specific charism and mission; attempt-ing to live out that spirit and charism in one's particular lay lifestyle be-comes a significant piece of the "bonding" together. An area of richness that was shared by the groups in May was the expressed felt need and desire to journey together toward deeper spiri-tual growth. The word "together" here is significant and seems to be gaining in popularity. While indeed there still lingers the sentiment that "sister is better at this than I am" we discovered also that the notion that "the same Spirit moves among all of us" is gaining ground as well. Of course, this growing sense and desire for "bonding" also tends to blur the distinctions between laity and religious which is a challenge for some and a gift for many. Developing a sense of community was an important and, at times, a primary reason for approaching associate membership. For some it is the lack of community experienced in the local parish setting; for others it is the desire to deepen their prayer life that initiated the attraction. This sense of community and "bonding" that begin to take shape between the lay and religious members is encouraged and strengthened through regular times of coming together to share prayer, ritual, reflections, Eucharist, and other social feastings. Along with these activities the de-sire to have a "significant" role within the religious community is also exerting its influence among laity and religious. Participating in commu-nity decision-making, committee functions, chapter meetings and the like were not an uncommon topic at our May meetings. The area of service or ministry had a broad range of response among the groups. For some it was an integral part of the associates" role; for others it almost appeared as a distraction from the original intent of spiri-tual development; and still others seem to be on a progressive path of moving through spiritual development outward to "mission.'" This brings us to the progression of "gerierations" that is becom- The Associate Movement / 355 ing evident to those people who have been around this movement ['or a period of time. A pattern appears to be evolving within the associate move-ment. The first generation seemed to be people who wanted to be "filled up" spiritually plus a few who just could not say "no" to sister in those communities where the religious extended the invitation to join. In this generation the religious were looked to for the leadership. The second generation seemed to move more deeply into spiritual development in that the laity and religious have journeyed that path together as equals. The third generation emerges as associates become active in, or are in-vited into, various ways of participating in community life itself. Spiri-tuality as well as leadership is shared. A fourth generation seems to be spiritually motivated and supported by a faith community to go out in mission to share the charism. Throughout this progression of generations has remained a growing, though sometimes ambiguous, sense of commitment--ambiguous in that it is not always clear if the commitment is to the congregation, to the lo-cal community, to the associate community, or to individual sisters. And growing in that there are those rich experiences when associate members feel they have no choice but to live the charism--they have become so imbued it is as though "the charism has me!'" It seems most desirable for each group to grow in its own understand-ing and expression of, and comfort with, the focus of its commitment. While all groups expressed uncertainty about the long-term embodi-ment of their spirituality, they were equally comfortable with a sense of journeying together, accompanying ehch other in a life of prayer, shar-ing, and service. This was the area of greatest commonality among the participants. Otherwise their differences were so great that many of our assumptions about the associate movement were exposed and dispelled. Our first assumption was that a healthy associate program needed to be closely knit to the sponsoring congregation, starting with a strong for-mation program (conducted by the sisters), ongoing liaison with or lead-ership from the sisters, and some degree of monitoring of prescribed norms of behavior. Not so. Although many of these chara~:teristics were present in most programs, there were some that were not even started by the sisters, much less "managed" by them. A "healthy" and vigorous program depended more on the quality of the relationship between indi-vidual lay person and sister (living or dead) than on the sophistication of its organization and structures. The spirit or charism of the congrega-tion was passed on most effectively, it seemed, from person to person. In one group, the "formation" program consisted primarily of one-to- Review for Religious, May-June 1990 one storytelling on the part of the retired sisters with the prospective as-sociate. Another had an adoption structure, in which the associate and sister became family with each other. Another assumption was that there were sisters, on the one hand, and associates on the other. But for some, the associate membership con-sisted of lay people and those sisters who chose to join it including, in-terestingly, sisters from other congregations. These groups, obviously, had no trouble "getting sisters involved"--one of the more common problems expressed. The sisters were free to commit themselves to this other expression of their charism, or not. Another surprise was the range of expectations or requirements for associates to "keep up their membership." Many groups had calendars of annual events that included monthly meetings, annual retreats, "home-coming weekends" with all the sisters at the motherhouse, and some even offering weekly prayer meetings. But it was clear, due to geo-graphical movement of both sisters and associates, that the real and ef-fective criterion of memberships for some groups was the intention and commitment of the individual associate. In a movement like this there is a lot of giving and receiving. Who is giving? Who is receiving'? The obvious answer is that the congrega-tion is extending itself to others, including them, giving them something that they could not have by themselves. The opposite seems to charac-terize many of the groups reporting. The more the sisters listened to what was going on in the desires, dreams, and active faith life of their friends and dedicated collaborators, the more they received. Their own appre-ciation of their congregational charism and history was renewed and en-livened. Many sisters reported "receiving their charism back" from their lay associates. And, on a more pragmatic vein, the more the con-gregation included its associates in governance and community struc-tures, the greater the commitment of time and energy of the associates to the religious group. Finally, we had assumed, of course, that we were talking about per-sons of the Christian faith when we were discussing associates. Not so. A number of congregations reported including not only non-Catholic Christians in their associate programs, but also non-Christian persons. How could this be? We did not ask. If we had had the time, we would have asked three other questions: -What human behaviors facilitate the "passing on" of a charism from person or group to another'? -This seems to be more a women's movement than one The Associate Movement / ;357 commonly or equally shared by men and women. If so, how does it relate to the larger feminist or women's move-ment? And, also, how is it related to earlier women's movements in the history of the Church? -Are congregations that have a vital and active associate membership capable of having an equally vital and ac-tive group of "lay volunteers"? We ended the May meetings with no conclusions other than it was very good to get together and share what is happening; that some groups would initiate regional networks: and that we should all meet again in two years to hear the continuing story of the associate membership move-ment. As participants and observers we rejoice and hope to see the continu-ing openness to the Spirit-filled variety of associate memberships in the Church. A variety that may lead us to a fifth generation of associate mem-bers and "religious" sharing community: living together in a variety of many different ways, providing a variety of different services, praying in a variety of different styles--all through the power of one Spirit-- one baptism. Sunrise When the earth tipped its rim this morning, letting the sun in, filling itself with color and.light, You handed it to me; putting my mouth to the other side, I drank the dawn wind, the morning sun rising, dripping with glory. Then handing the cup back to You, I wiped the drops from my mouth, touching my lips again with Your light: Satiated with splendor, so glad of Your love. Sister Columba Howard St. John of God Convent P.O. Box 14 SUBIACO 6008 Western Australia Images For The Future Of Religious Life Thomas F. McKenna, C.M. Father Thomas McKenna, C.M., is an assistant professor in the theology department at St. John's University in New York. He has also served as novice director for the Eastern Province of the Vincentians. His address is Vincentian House: 101-25 104th Street: Ozone Park, New York 11416. One of the signatures of any age is the time-dimension to which it is drawn. At a given period, a culture is fascinated by past, present, or what is to come. For a number of interwoven reasons, religious life in this pres-ent age is taken with the future. The harder times it has fallen upon in filling up its thinning ranks and the upsetting wonder about what forms will take it into the next. century raise questions which only forward-looking answers will give. Add to this the growing appreciation that the origins and, therefore, the identity of religious life lie in visions precisely about what could be, and the reasons for concern about that future be-come all the more apparent. Often enough, these worries and hopes find expression in a search for what is termed "The New Image.'" That taken-for-granted inner land-scape which grounded the operations of a congregation for generations is less and less able to hold the center. Members realize that some new image is required, a different "root metaphor"~ which once in place will again provide that clear prism through which the apostolates, govern-ance, prayer styles, and, indeed, the very self-concept of the order can be freshly perceived. In his book on the meaning of history,2 Theodore White describes the precariousness of trying to peer into the future from the only van-tage point available, the present. He invites the reader into a small boat 358 Images of Religious Life / 359 bobbing up and down on the swells of the mid-Pacific, thousands of miles from any coast. Inside, the waves lifting and lowering the boat feel much the same, but in fact they are not all alike. Some are only surface ripples blown up for a few hundred yards or even miles. Others are surges left from mid-ocean storms out still farther over the horizon. They, too, will smooth out and die. But others still are the tips of deep running transoceanic currents. They were born in the river canyons of continents two thousand miles to the east and will crest on the shores of another coast four thousand miles westward. The historian is the person who thinks himself able to read which of the waves are shallow and so eventually will fade, and which reach to the floor of the sea and so will roll on into the future. While the bases for his judgments are not the kind which can serve up airtight predictions, they are rooted eno'ugh in pres-ent conditions to get him beyond clairvoyance. His knowledge of the cur-rents and tides enables him to give some backing for claims about what will continue beyond the horizon. This article intends to feel for some of those currents. While there are any number of root images which might be the synthesizing meta-phors on which religious life will be carried into the future, there are some which because of their ancient lineage in the religious movement on the one side and their attunedness to present society on the other show promise beyond mere guesswork--though, to be honest, not perhaps be-yond wishful thinking! The metaphors to follow can stand by themselves, but are more use-ful when anchored in the first. Connecting them sequentially allows for a certain priority but also for enough interaction that each can be a cor-rective for the others. The Religious Infiltrators of the Culture The scenario here is one body of people led forward by a common vision who insert themselves into the dead spots, so to speak, of the world of another group. They attempt to work their variant view into the places in the dominant culture which are spiritually empty and hunger-ing for freedom and new meaning. The sportscaster's phrase "in the seams" catches the idea. In a zone defense, players are assigned to cover certain sectors of the field or rink. The weakest points are along the bor-ders of zones because that is where confusions and even collisions be-tween the defenders are most likely to occur. The pass or shot is aimed "in the seams" between the zones; it is put "in the crease" at the edges of the coverage where the system most often breaks down. This analogy places religious among those believers who carry the 3BO / Review for Religious, May-June 1990 cause of Mystery to those border areas in a culture. Into those margins where the prevailing world view has lost its depth or has failed in nerve, religious bring the riches, appropriately enough, of religion. They are the outriders of the culture, the hikers along the margin where moder-nity has unraveled and is dealing death rather than life. The orders are among the entrepreneurs of the Mystery in a resistive society. This last figure brings out the assertive and perhaps even aggressive side of the image. Not intimidated by the muscular idols of the culture, religious purposefully seek out opportunities for evangelization and join with other groups who struggle to inculturate kindred values. They are convinced of the profundity of what they carry and so actively search out the soft spots in a society for chances to penetrate. Opportunistically, they move into the seams. In the description of the mid-ocean sailor, we spoke of the need to justify the use of a particular image. Why does this metaphor show more promise than another'? In this case, what signs of the times recommend the infiltrator over competitors'? Both negative and positive warrants come to mind. The negatives cluster around a foreboding sense of the spiritual bank-ruptcy of certain sectors in the modern world. By modern we connote here modernity, that whole ethos born in the Enlightenment and bred in the industrialized West whose place in history is slipping off its assumed highest perch to a level of one era among others, but one, indeed, whose effects are threatening to annihilate the gains of all the rest. Interestingly, this critique is being mounted by commentators who truly admire many of the accomplishments of the modern era such as freedom, communi-cation, labor saving devices, democracy, and so forth. They counsel not so much a nativist return to some pre-technological world, but rather a move beyond technology. To that end, they make the case that within the soil of the very blessings modernity bestows are sprouting the mostly unnoticed seeds of its own destruction. The most noxious plants on the American scene are being fed by the system of total capitalism. When left unchecked, they poison the very kind of moral character needed to sustain the democratic society in which capitalism flourishes. Among the more widely known critics are Robert Bellah and his as-sociates3 who have detailed the ways in which individualism threatens to remove its communal counterbalance, republicanism, from the ethi-cal arena in American life. A flattened self, the person as a "bag of needs" disconnected from other subjects and unable to collaborate from motives beyond self-gratification is the narcissistic prospect. Barbara Hat- Images of Religious Life / 36"1 grove's depiction of the "New Class" analyzes the ways which the spe-cializing and rationalistic tendencies of the baby boomer culture can shut down its own best possibilities.'~ In a more popular vein are the addresses of Franciscan preacher, Richard Rohr, who of late has been announcing "the death of the liberal agenda."-s An inability to cooperate with any-one besides an elite few, an idolization of personal feelings, and a per-fectionistic search for the fullest experience and/or the flawless process are some of the disturbing undersides he fears now beginning to surface. A more philosophical warning is being sounded by a group known as the Post-Modernists. Taking negative expression in its Deconstruction-ist variety,6 the critique is more optimistically stated by a group who call themselves, fittingly so, the Constructionists.7 Affirming the benefits of modernity, they also desire to move beyond its pitfalls and so join the assault on individualism. Their particular contribution is not only to have analyzed further its pedigree and progeny, but to have proposed means by which it can be overcome. There is an anthropomorphism in the culture, they contend, which immoderately subordinates the whole of creation to its human part. The attitude denies any "inwardness" to what is not human, thereby remov-ing nature's intrinsic value and laying it open to the worst kinds of ex-ploitation. The social counterparts of this dominative style are the patri-archal rules in society, assumptions which prevailed in all ages but get honed to their sharpest edge by the competitive, rationalistic, and ef-ficiency myths of the present.8 Powering everything are the twin dynamos of economism and con-sumerism. The blanket moral pardon granted the so-called side effects of the free market (steered by its invisible hand of self-interest) is ex-tended to all sectors of life. Social, aesthetic, moral, and religious issues are approached as if their ultimate bearings were also supply and de-mand. The pressures to define self by possessions, to regard the public good solely as economic wealth, and to eliminate concern even for one's posterity are some of the more chilling prospects when the profit princi-ple is transmuted into the universal moral touchstone. Such a world, in a Constructionist phrase, has lost its enchantment.9 Emptied of mystery and dulled to the wisdom of the best of its myths, it can no longer re-spond to the deeper hopes and so begins to feed on itself. Modernity's prospects: a superficial and morally spinning world set on a disastrous course that of itself modernity is powerless to change. If the infiltrator metaphor stayed only with condemnations, its indict-ments could have the ring of a culture-bashing fundamentalism which 369 / Review for Religious. May-June 1990 railed against the society but did not involve itself in it. Happily, these critiques are simultaneously stirring up a kind of religious revival or at least the beginnings of one. ~0 In the so-called secular disciplines for in-stance, there is a growing movement to sacralize the world. Proponents in the natural sciences for one, awed not only by the indeterminacy of things but also by their interconnectedness, are proclaiming a newly dis-covered mystery in creation. Various schools of psychology for another are reclaiming a spiritual base. Educational circles are feeling a surpris-ing pressure for more theology and religion courses at secular universi-ties. ~ These and other indications mark a widening search for values which are rooted in something other than the economic. This quest has a prag-matic ring to it inasmuch as the conviction is spreading that religiously grounded foundations are the only ones on which lasting social change can be built. Interestingly, the revival appears to have gathered greatest momentum among Roman Catholics. A 1987 Gallup poll names them as the denomination which feels most able to provide religious leadership in American society because of both the wide backing they accord their bishops' social teachings and because of the stronger communal bonds they enjoy. ~- In sum, there is on a number of fronts a growing unease about the spiritual vacuum in the culture together with initial signs of an initiative to fill it. Motivation for the renewal is not the self-righteous and con-demning sort, but comes from culturally sympathetic people who at the same time sense the dissonance between their own religious experience and the hollowness in key sectors of modernity. This analysis was done to indicate possible points at which religion could be inserted into the culture. Such intersections hold invitations for religious to join with other subgroups in society~3 in witnessing to firmer grounds of meaning. Carrying in their traditions such wisdom as the in-terrelationship between humans and the rest of creation, the universal dis-persion of spiritual energy, the immanence of the divine feminine, and the riches which cannot be packaged as a commodity and which flow out of the acts of loving and hoping, members of orders do not come empty-handed to those vulnerable seams. Nor do they come alone. The infil-trator is meant to work alongside of other servants of Mystery who are soon discovered to be, in Thomas Merton's phrase, "the monks' natu-ral allies in the world.''~4 If this line of thought sounds familiar to the religious reader, it is likely because something of the sacred time of his or her beginnings is hnages of Religious Life / 36:3 evoked. All founding persons were in effect entrepreneurs of religion in a culture. The desert journeys of the monks as response to the dying and brutal fourth-century society, the ingenuity of the mendicants in evan-gelizing a world of new city-states, the missionary fervor of the congre-gations of the seventeenth century reaching across from the Old World to the New--all these were tides taken at the ebb to penetrate a weak-ened and changing society. The crisis of meaning in American culture today and some initial responses to it present new windows of opportu-nity for would-be refounders. What special qualities are required of these so-called otitriders of re-ligion? In an essay on the future of spirituality, ~5 Karl Rahner addressed the situation of believers living in a time of sociological diminishment. Their faith must be sustained by what he termed "a solitary, immediate experience of God." They are to be new types of mystics whose con-viction does not come from any place other than the hearts of their own existence. Infiltrators are, therefore, marked in the first place by a per-sonal experience of God. Their second trait might be called culture-friendliness. Refounding persons exhibit that certain feel for the divine possibilities in society, that willingness to mix it up with the shapers of meaning in the wider world. While they are not uncritical of the age, their more basic desire is to engage it in order to move quickly into the spiritual openings it presents. But infiltrators also have blind spots. A common one is to so con-centrate on the strategy and practicalities of insertion into a culture that they lose sight of the sources of the salvation they bring it. Two further images, each able to stand on its own, speak more pointedly to ways of listening for the Word which religious carry to the world they would serve. The Navigator A type of spiritual sensibility long associated with the religious move-ment is at the core of this metaphor. To arrive at it, we add to Theodore White's image of the boat bobbing in the mid-Pacific the lore surround-ing certain revered individuals in Polynesian culture known as Naviga-tors. Now gone, these adventurers were the last repositories in their so: ciety of the secrets of open ocean sailing. Without modern navigational instruments, they could make landfall on a tiny dot of coral thousands of miles across the seemingly trackless Pacific. Anthropologists found their basic talent to be an ability to read the movements of the waves. Through a long and spiritually intense initiation, they learned to tell the crucial difference between the surface disturbances and the ocean- 364 I Review Jbr Religious, May-June 1990 spanning bottom currents which led in definite directions, changed head-ings with the seasons, and were deflected as they ran past the archipela-goes that speckled the Southern Seas. From their minuscule platform on the raft, they could judge which of the great ocean waves to follow and which to let roll past. In terms we will use, these were the special ones who could read in the present which movements had the long-range prom-ise and which would not reach the far shore of the future. Joseph Campbell speaks of an analogous phenomenon in other primi-tive societies which today might come under the title recruitment. While undergoing the long initiation to adulthood, one of the adolescents suf-fers a kind of nervous breakdown. He seems to take things too seriously. He does not see reality the way his peers do and is not in step with their pace and general rhythms. Observing this, the elders remove him from the group--and make him their religious leader! Their intuition, says Campbell, is that the youngster is picking up the contours of another world. He is reading signals from a different depth and perceiving a pic-ture of the way the tribe could be when at its very best. In the language of the previous example, this person becomes the tribal navigator, not just in sailing but in all things, because he can discern directions com-ing 'back from the future,' directions which the rest of the clan recog-nizes as valuable and even salvific. In this metaphor, religious are among those special ones with sensi-tivity for what of God's future is just over the horizon. Intuiting the source and goal of the divine good working in the world, their faith vi-sion focuses more on the da~vning of God's presence than on its fruition in the present. To paraphrase Karl Rahner, they are among the first to catch the glimmer of the morning light on the far mountain which will eventually turn into the brilliance of day. ~6 Following him again, these are the eschatologically inciined believers whose intimations of God's grace which comes from beyond the world creates the saving tension with those disciples whose more incarnationa[ faith celebrates the pres-ence of that grace already come. ~v Two signs of the times which in an obverse way recommend the Navi-gator are the sleek idol-making machines of secularism and materialism. To those driven by them, all observable ~:eality is explainable in terms of itself, and things (including persons perceived as things) hold the high ground of ultimacy. To counteract this massive message, there is great need for the relativizer, the individual who cherishes the good of this world but who also spots its incompleteness and inability to save. These are the ones who catch the presence of the world-to-come in the midst hnages of Religious Life / 365 of the world-that-is-here and so can accept the graciousness of the pres-ent while rejecting its different pretensions to absoluteness. Groups who can "name grace''~8 because they know the difference between groundings which are ultimate and penultimate help save a world which too indiscriminately mixes the two. And indeed, has it not always been one of the liberating functions of religion to lead people into places where, in one writer's imagery, "they can transcend the mazeways they have known to glimpse new visions of what may be"?~9 If this metaphor again seems an old friend, it is because it carries strains of both a classic description of religious communities and of a strong trait in the spiritual experience of their founders. Magisterial docu-ments depict religious orders as witnesses to the world-to-come, as fore-tastes of the kingdom's fullness, and as apostles of the transcendent.2° The innovative apostolic strategies of founding women and men sprang from their ability to see the world which hemmed in their contemporar-ies against the backdrop of the better one illuminated by the light of the coming kingdom. The ancestry of religious life is heavily eschatologi-cal. Witness to that faith-dimension is needed in every age but for the reasons discussed above crucially so in this one. The community which images itself as Navigator values discern-ment. As a group it not only spots the religious possibilities and then im-plements them, but lays explicit hold of the power and source of its vi-sion. It is a mobile group, able to roam free, and has a lower than usual need for the security and predictability of set roles. Its critique of the status quo will disturb those less attuned to the future and it will line up more quickly with other visionaries in the world and Church. For all its sensitivity, such a community also has its limits. Naviga-tors can so focus on the land over the horizon that they miss some of the places they travel through in the present. Eschatological types have their eyes on the better world ahead and tend to be impatient with the slow birthing process needed to bring that world to light of day. In the lan-guage of psychology, they can be perfectionistic, enamored of the ideal, and intolerant of development toward it. In theological talk, they are tempted to angelism, imagining they can detour around the process of history instead of laboriously going through it.2~ Often enough, naviga-tors need to be brought back down to the agitated ocean surface and re-learn the wisdom of the journey itself. Enter the next image, a specialist in the art of journeying. The Lean and Light Remnant The title draws the scene for this third metaphor. It is the Israelite 366/Review for Religious, May-June 1990 people on a long and ragged trek across the desert. Their march this time is not toward the new Promised Land but toward their old one, having just been released from their captivity in Babylon and now heading back to rebuild a ruined Jerusalem. They have little to carry because recent slaves do not amass many possessions. They rely on no social standing other than the dubious kind of the refugee. Most telling, because so many of their kin fell off the trail on the way to Babylon or chose to remain behind there, their numbers are hardly the kind to pose a threat to world order. For all that, they are grateful for their station because they have learned from their experience and their prophets that dispossession and pilgrimage have a way of opening hearts to Yahweh. They are the Remnant. Not lamenting their losses nor ashamed of their smallness, they are in some measure even glad for them because these deprivations have proved to be better teachers about what counts before their God than the power they wielded generations ago. These travelers have no preten-sions of overwhelming their world with multitudes or even talent. What they have to offer is what they are constan,tly aware of receiving, the di-vine mercy and sustenance. At best, they see themselves as catalysts, tiny enzymes in a large mass, invisible and unobtrusive. They are satis-fied on the circumference of society because their ordeal has convinced them that circumferences can often enough in God's eyes be near the cen-ter. The fit between Remnant and the orders of the 1990s is the obvious demographic one of diminishment. Not just on the way, smallness is al-ready here. To begin to extol the benefits of shrinkage at such a time could be written off as a kind but unreal attempt to console the dying, a thought which most likely occurred to Babylon-bound Israelites as they heard the same sentiment from their preachers. But to at least some of them, the truth of the claim proved itself over time. That proof is being given again today in a number of testimonies to the spiritual good which can come of vulnerability and powerlessness. One especially forceful witness is given by the liberationists who in their own pragmatic way have unearthed the riches at the margins. The poor evangelize the wealthy, the no-accounts unlock the Gospel's mean-ing for people of consequence, the small, ordinary, and forgotten ones are revealed as standing at the hub of the kingdom's activity. The very meaning of insignificant is transposed. Another more quiet testimony comes from Jean Vanier and his years of living with the handicapped.22 These sociologically most invisible of Images of Religious Life / :367 people have their own ways of making very visible the presence of grace in creation. The precariousness of their existence and their survival-need for the compassion of others lays bare the essence of how it is be-tween God and all of humanity. Such little people, when cared for and allowed to progress on their own terms, turn out to be large gifts to the caretakers. Gospels such as these are advancing the claim that diaspora time is the spiritually best time. Facing the onset of their own smallness, reli-gious communities could do worse than take to heart this winter spiritual-ity. In its bleakness they might come to see another kind of beauty and in its silence a call to a more anonymous style of influencing the world around them. Is this not the climate in which most all orders and con-gregations began? In the desert where smallness reveals itself as bless-ing by keeping the group real, minority status does not allow social and numerical superiority to figure in its estimation of success. Pilgrim com-munities of the coming decades will have both grieved the loss of high visibility and learned better to rely on their own inner experience as sus-tainer and guidepost. Like the tiny band of emigres approaching the out-skirts of Jerusalem, they will recognize their smallness as the lean and light condition which best suits them for the task of building their old/ new city. Scripture experts tell us that when the exiles entered the settlement, they found others already there, both their own who had been left be-hind as well as others who over the decades had wandered in. To move to our final metaphor, we add the following piece of imagination. Because the project of reconstructing the Temple and city would re-quire more arms than these pilgrims could supply, they realized they needed the help of the resident aliens. But the Jews also noted that these foreigners possessed building skills different from their own which might add much beauty to the final product. The New Jerusalem could better be built collaboratively. The last image is at hand. The Square Dance The picture here is of a swirling group, moving to the rhythm of the same tune and the shouts of the one caller. The dancers begin as a single couple, then join larger and still larger circles, change to other partners along the way, then come back to the original two--and repeat the cycle again and again. While at the beginning the steps and switches are a bit ragged and the caller's instructions hard to understand, the promenaders do not drop out because the energy spreading across the floor has caught them. They know best the partners they came with, but they also know 368 / Review for Religious, May-June 1990 how much more dance there is when they can join hands with other cir-cles and be part of the bigger whirl in the room. They trade some of the freedom of couple-dancing for the chance to be part of something larger to which they now know they can contribute. The dance metaphor speaks of new ways for the religious communi-ties to be together, both with themselves and with others. Beginning within the circles of their own congregations, they move out to other prov-inces and communities, to laity, to their natural families, couples, friends outside their order, co-workers, to other Infiltrators, Navigators and Remnants both Christian and non. The image encourages them to listen for the rhythm which matches the cadence of their own religious experi-ence no matter where in society it is sounding. With a graciousness, they let go the hands of the community partners with whom they began so that these too are free to step off into the bigger enterprise. But they are also happy to welcome them back when the time for regrouping comes round again. Each member of the congregation sacrifices some independence, convinced that the overall cause is worth the initial unsettlement and risk. The sign of the times for Square Dance is quite simply its present existence. Many congregations have already moved the borders on their maps of inclusion. Associates, service corps, laymission extensions, in-terprovincial apostolates, joint ventures by men's and women's branches of the same order all testify to the shifting sense of what it means to be-long. If the initial enthusiasm for widening circles produced some overly fluid boundaries, it did enlarge perceptions of membership. This stretch-ing permitted groups to recognize certain natural allies outside their walls who were in effect anonymous carriers of the community charism. A more recent attempt to strike a better balance between centrifugal and cen-tripetal forces has sought to tie tighter but still flexible bonds between the members. One fine instance is the recent essay by George Wilson which tracks the sharp change in attitudes of Jesuits about inclusion.-~3 The image of a single closed circle embracing all the spiritual, profes-sional, familial, apostolic, and even recreational aspects of communal life has largely been supplanted by another of many smaller circles, some not connected to each other and most tellingly not to the Jesuit one. Be-longing no longer means fitting everything inside the one ring of total community but rather negotiating between the different circles (for ex-ample, professional societies, local living group, non-Society friends both male and female, the world Jesuit fellowship, and so forth), espe-cially between those of one's primary and secondary commitments. hnages of Religious Life / 369 Useful as it is on the intra-community level, a Square Dance model also serves the wider society, Any truly collaborative venture on behalf of issues other than the group's self-preservation is a prophetic word to a culture so tilted away from the ability to cooperate by the weight of individualism. And could it not also be that arguments within religious communities themselves against widening the circle (phrased at times as the loss of needed autonomy or dilution of our special spirit) are partially an echo of the privatist bias in the wider society? Whatever the case, the move to collaborate for reasons beyond self-interest is not only evangeli-cally countercultural, but hearkens back to that surrender to something greater which gave rise to the religious movement in the first place. People of the Square Dance have a mind for the communal. The op-posite of in-house types who require the safety of same-sex, walled-off environments, they still maintain primary loyalties to their own, Their toleration for fluidity in boundaries is high. They have opted to learn ne-gotiation between different memberships rather than to close ranks around the one. This insight that collaborative communities are in a position to infil-trate the individualistic culture completes the circle. The Square Danc-ers widen the Remnant's sphere of influence. Both look to the Naviga-tors for the source and direction of their projects. And all three join in the Infiltrator's attempt to bring the depth of the kingdom to the shallow places of the world. It is time to conclude. Conclusion Nearly twenty years ago when reflecting on the spirituality of the fu-ture, Karl Rahner predicted that whatever forms it takes, it "will remain the old spirituality of the Church's history."24 He meant that even though the relationship between the different parts of Christian existence will shift, its essential elements (for example, adoring the incomprehensible God, following the suffering and triumphant Lord, protesting the world's forms of wealth, power, and pleasure, living within the Church, and so forth) will remain. In a somewhat reverse way, the same holds true for the different images of religious life with which we have been playing. These paradigms do not submerge those components which the recent Vatican document termed "Essential Elements,''25 but they do recon-figure them. Communal living, for instance, is linked to mission in a much different way in a Square Dance framework than it had been in more tightly inclusive forms of the Augustinian one-heart-and-one-spirit tradition. It is precisely that repatterning which makes all the dif-ference. For it allows religious the suppleness not only to set new courses 370 / Review for Religious, May-June 1990 by the waves of the future moving past them, but also to take conscious advantage of the momentum those waves contain. To return to Rahner, religious life will and will not remain the same. Its refounders are those people who through freshly imaging its possibilities will keep the reli-gious movement intact and at the same time reshape it into its most us-able form for the coming age. The overall interplay between the images seems an apt point on which to conclude. The Remnant calls the Infiltrator to remember the hum-ble conditions under which the message is given; the Infiltrator in turn cautions the Remnant against enshrining smallness as a value unto itself. The Navigator supplies the direction for the Infiltrator; the Infiltrator pow-ers the boat which the Navigator might be content only to steer. All three are vitalized by community living, but now expanded into its Square Dance form. Our attempt has been to suggest culturally relevant paradigms which might anchor 'newly emerging syntheses for religious life. If these par-ticular ones do not speak to individuals or communities, they might at least trigger the power of other imaginations to discover even deeper ly-ing metaphors which can again hold the center for this ancient and ever new blessing in the Church. NOTES ~ Thomas Clark, "Religious Leadership in a Time of Cultural Change," Religious Life at the Crossroads, David Fleming, ed. (New York: Paulist Press, 1985), p. 169. 2 In Search of History (New.York: Harper and Row, 1978). 3 Habits of the Heart (New York: Harper and Row, 1985). 4 The Emerging New Class (New York: The Pilgrim Press, 1986). 5 "Religious Life Of The Future," Origins, Sept. 22, 1988 (Vol. 18, no. 15) pp. 234-239. 6 For a general sketch of this school and its leading proponent, Jaques Derrida, see Religion and Intellectual Life, Wint
Issue 48.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1989. ; R~:.vn~w voa R~:.t.~c,~ous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rl~v~'0,, ~:o~ Rl-:t.~c;ous; P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to Rt:v~t:w roa RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors September/October 1989 Volume 48 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:vt~w you R~:~.~;~otJs; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rv:\'~v:w voa Rr:~.~;~o~JS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues 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 I0010. PRISMS . We Christians come to know our calling to a certain kind of minis-try in the Church through our fidelity to prayer--a continuing dialogue in our relationship with God. By way of analogy, those in the vocation of married life know that the sacramental celebration of matrimony rep-resents only the start of a new relationship together with God. It will take a married lifetime of dialogue with each other and with God and of so living to make the reality of the sacrament come true. Similarly, those in the vocation of religious life signify in some way (commonly through some kind of vow-taking) that they are professing and aiming at a spe-cial relationship with God with the wholeness of their lives. Again re-ligious are well aware that vow or profession day is only the beginning of the dialoguing and of the living out of this "aimed-at" relationship. In these vocations of married and religious life, the Christian prayer of both the individual and the community (marital or religious) is a neces-sary part of the continuing dialogue which keeps alive and nourishes the particular vocation undertaken by our first responding to God's initia-tive. The call to minister in the name of Christ and officially authorized in the service of the Church also remains grounded in the prayer-dialogue. Ministry, not rooted in prayer, is no ministry at all. Good deeds done may represent admirable humanitarianism which we honor and appreciate, but we do not grace it with the identity of ministry. Min-istry flows from a consciousness of God and God's ways of acting and from a sense of responsibility in acting in the name of Christ's Body, the Church. The pervading consciousness of God and the connatural way of acting as God acts are the fruit of a prayer life, which is consistently fostered "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health." This dialogue pei'meates and empowers our Christian life as well as our ministry whatever it may be. In this issue, we highlight two aspects of this continuing dialogue so necessary for our vocation and for ourmin!stry. The passion or fire in our Christian way of praying is reflected in the articles "The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer" .by Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem., "Romantic Relations with the Sacred" by Richard J. De- Maria, C.F.C., and "A Joyful Supp!ication for Justice" by A. Paul 641 642 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Dominic, S.J. The passion--meaning self-emptying and often a sense of dying--is also a part of our Christian experience of growth in prayer; the articles "Negative Floating" by Barbara Dent and "Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines" by Eamon Tobin give some insight into these always difficult moments. Three articles, viewing various aspects of our religious life vocation, are written within the specific prayer context of our lives. "Religious Formation: A Contemplative Realignment" by Jane Ferdon, O.P., con-siders the formation task. "Discernment and Elections in Religious In-stitutes" by Marcello De Carvalho Azevedo, S.J., focuses the very spe-cial moments of leadership choice and policy-making in religious in-stitutes. Finally, "Rituals of Death, Denial, and Refounding" by Ger-ald A. Arbuckle, S.M., reflects on the importance of religious celebrat-ing in a truly Christian manner the dying and death moments in their con-gregational life if revitalization or refounding is to occur today. In the northern hemisphere, the summer months are coming, to an end, with the traditional vacation time behind us for another year. We move on to another "work" year and whatever our ministry may be. With the help of God's grace, .we find ourselves at an opportune time to assess again how our lives, our ministries, and our prayer truly form one healthy and supportive ecological system. May our various authors in this issue contribute to our insight and give us perspective in our quest. David L. Fleming, S.J. The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Father Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem., is currently chaplain of the Sign of God Deaf Ministry office which serves the Deaf and Hearing Impaired community of the Green Bay diocese. He also directs the Theological Institute, a summer program at St. Norbert College in De Pere, Wisconsin. He continues to write a weekly article for the local diocesan newspaper. His address is St. Norbert Abbey; De Pere, Wiscon-sin 54115-2697. We all have them. Most of us have learned to control, even ignore them. But for some, they appear unasked for and when they do they are toler-ated with all the patience we have for a head cold. They are our emo-tions, our deep seated emotions, the dark and passionate side of our hu-man nature. We enjoy them when, at sports activities, we give ourselves permis-sion to act outraged or triumphant and they suit our moods. We like it when they sneak out quietly in the form of tears at the end of a touching movie. They may also try to make their presence known during prayer, but here they are often considered most distracting and least desired. And yet, if there is a time for emotion, if there is a time for passion at all, it is during prayer. Prayer is a naturally revealing activity. Ii is natural that passionate emotions should arise within us during.prayer. They are conduits to the parts of ourselves God wishes most to go. It is little wonder we should find them straining to emerge. Could it be that they are even called forth by a God eager to touch this part of ourselves so seldom shared? Unfortunately, they are the parts of ourselves we least of all like. Most often, they are corridors to the side of ourgelves we fear. They lead 643 60,4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 into the cauldron of emotion we have not yet learned to control. We may not be really sure what lurks there but we are fairly confident that God has no part of it, that it is best shielded from God,-that what surges there is best atoned for in secret, not something to be proud of and shared openly with God. But are passionate emotions like anger and jealousy and lust called forth during times of prayer so that we can "confess" to them? Or are they summoned at God's own invitation? Can it be, might it be, that God can desire a passionate prayer as well and as much as a prayer that is con-templative, tranquil, and serene? Might it be that the God who appears ¯ throughout the pages of the Bible speaks to us best and can identify with us most through the part of ourselves we keep most hidden? The God of the Scriptures is indeed a passionate God. This article is an exploration of that theme and of the constructive relationship that exists between passion and prayer. The Passionate Nature of God Pascal was right when he said that there seemed to be two Gods: the God discussed by philosophers and the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of the Scriptures. Most people prefer the philosophers' God. That Being is reasonable, controlled, logical. The God of the phi-losophers thinks, plans, orders, foresees. There is, of course, a "feel-ing" side to this God too. God does, after all, feel compassion and love for creation. But those "feelings" are held well in check and are dis-pensed cooly and properly. This God seems to resemble a fine Victorian gentleman/scholar. And, very often, especially here in the Western world, that is the image we would like to have of ourselves. That is the standard and goal we set for ourselves. The point is not that this image of God is false. But is it all there is? Is it only one side of a much more complex personality? Do we, with a too exclusively philosophical model of God, lose some of God's mys-tery because we fail to pay proper attention to God's emotion and pas-sionate nature? Perhaps such a theology is no more complete than an anthropology that deliberately ignores the emotional and passionate side of human be-ing? The point of human growth is to integrate and harmonize the parts of our nature i'nto one. To ignore our emotions is to ignore half of our selves. In addition to being rational, thinking creatures, human beings also love, feel anger, jealousy, crave revenge, desire, and feel pity. We are indeed complex beings. Can we dare imagine a God who is any less? Moreover, if we are so thoroughly emotional and if we were made in The God of the Scriptures / 6t15 God's own image and likeness, what can we conclude about God? Scripture tells us that "God is love." Love is, to be sure, more than an intellectual attitude or disposition toward life. Love is an emotion. Peo-ple in love are known sometimes to do strange things, spontaneous things, unpredictable things. Or so they seem to us. But to them, fol-lowing the "logic of love," their actions have a rationality, a purpose, an order. Finding it, though, and seeing the reasoning behind such ac-tions can be almost as hard as finding the sense and reason behind some of God's actions in our lives. God is not illogical nor is God emotion-ally unstable. God is simply love. God is simply in love with us "and with ¯ all of creation. God is a Being of great and passionate emotion. That, at least, is what the Scriptures tell us. Perhaps, to beg the question a bit, that is why God chose the Jews in the first place as recorders of divine revelation. The Jews, and all Near Eastern people for that matter, were extremely emotional and passionate people. Check the papers--they still are. But if you were God, would you have chosen them to write the record of your revelation? Many people would probably have preferred the Greeks. Their philo-sophical bent would more likely have appealed to us. And indeed, they would probably have done an admirable job at revealing God's mind. But could they have matched the Jewish brilliance for revealing God's heart? The Jewish passion for life was a most fitting medium for the man-ner of God's message. For the Scriptures reveal in emotional and pas-sionate imagery and terms the heart as well as the mind of God. Maybe, we argue, the Jewish people were simply transferring their own emotional nature onto God and that God no more has passionate feel-ings than God has legs withwhich to walk around in the garden of Eden. Yet, even though they were not meant to be read literally, all the images and words do reveal and communicate something about God. To glean this, though, the Scriptures must be read with an open mind and heart. God's Emotional Involvement in Life What do the Scriptures tell us about God? The Bible reveals a God who is very much alive and near. The biblical God does not observe the glories and follies of creation from afar. This is not a God who aloofly administri~tes creation and human history. Rather, this is a God who min-isters, to it and within it. The God of the Bible is pastorally involved in human life. We know that because the Scriptures reveal a God who is emotionally involved in human life. There are levels and degrees of involvement in community, in fam-ily, in politics, in everything regarding life. One criterion for measuring 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 or determining the depth of involvement is the amount of emotional in-vestment shown. In community living, for example, it is easy enough to state one's involvement in community affairs. One may even show up at community meetings and functions. But does that person's words and presence communicate an active involvement or a benign disinterest? Does body language alone, for instance, tell the others present that, "I am here to observe. Really, I couldn't care less what happens. It is some-what interesting, even humorous though. Just continue and pretend I'm not here." No words may communicate that. But the message is made, communicated through posture, through sleepy eyes and flacid facial e~- pression. On the other hand is the person very much involved in the pro-ceedings. Like the other, thi~ person says not a word. Yet through all the same means the message communicated is much different. This per-son exhibits interest through a tense body, through a face that while si-lent is red with anger or aglow with satisfaction. The eyes hold an inter-est, the palms sweat, a leg fidgets nervously. This person is truly and pastorally present and alive. Why? Because the person is visibly emo-tionally involved. And that is what we want from each other and from God. Similarly, why do we become upset with the "professional" pastor who runs the office well and administrates the parish efficiently but who cannot feel his people's pain, who cannot rejoice at someone's birth or mourn at another's death? Why do we feel cheated? Why does the per-son seem pastorally out of touch and somehow less a priest than the pas-tor who is able and willing to be emotionally present to the people? Why does the emotionally uninvested pastor seem to communicate less God's presence? Why do we feel disappointed? For what reason do we feel we should be able to expect and receive more? All of this speaks to an image or a set of expectations we have about God. Because God cares, God's ministers should also care. Because God is able to and does feel with the people, so should God's priests and pas-toral workers. We want and need to feel God present in our lives and feel cheated by those who serve in God's name if somehow we cannot sense from them a deeper presence of God than the merely physical. We want and feel a right to expect an emotional presence and involvement. We want our pastoral workers to be passionately present and active. We want and expect that because we feel God is passionately present and ac-tive. But why? Does that expectation and feeling originate within us alone? Or is that the image Of God that is mysteriously and boldly com- The God of the Scriptures /647 municated through almost every page of the Bible? Indeed, God is most emotionally present and involved in the lives of the Jewish people. That is true from exodus to exile, from restoration through resurrection. God communicates through the Scriptures a presence and involvement that is intensely passionate. The Passionate God of the Prophets Nowhere is this more evident than in the writings of the prophets. Within the prophetic books we see a picture of a God at wits' end. The people had rebelled from God's love and were running headlong toward destruction. We hear a response from God that is the emotional equal of what is politically, socially, and spiritually at stake. Read with the emotion befitting the texts Amos 8:4-8 or 4:!-3 or Hosea'l !:1-11 or Jeremiah 7:i-20 or Isaiah 54:78 or any of the other prophets, and you find the words of a person on the edge, the words of a person who is not at all detached or even mildly interested. In those words and so many others we receive a message of a God filled with pas-sion for the welfare of his people, a God who is truly emotionally in-volved in the life, past and future, of his people. If there is anger in God's words, it is the anger of a parent or lover, the passion of someone who cares tremendously about another. It is an anger born of frustration and love. Who has been in love without feel-ing anger? Love is a powerful emotion that opens us up to other equally powerful feelings. And what of the energy invested in both love and an-ger? Passion has a high price in emotional energy that is paid only by those truly sincere about what they feel. The quality and quantity of God's emotion so naked and strong throughout the prophets is testimony to the sincerity of God's passionate love. Moreover, it is a passion and sincerity that God expects in return. Love that is deep and intense expects a return in kind. One of our ways of showing love is through our prayer, both private and liturgical. Note, then, in Isaiah I:11-16 and Amos 5:21-25 and Jeremiah 7:21-28, the re-action of God to worship that is liturgically correct but void of sincerity and feeling. God expects a worship from the heart, a worship that is a reflection of our love. To be proper and true to the rubrics is not enough, not even the most important thing. What God seeks is what God gives, a prayer that is emotionally sincere. What God "hates" and "detests," what is "loathsome" to God is prayer empty of affect. That does not mean that worship must be a wild and ecstatic affair. However, it must be sincere; it must reveal an authentic human warmth. Worship, prayer, is more than so many words or lack of them. We can 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 meditate quite correctly and all without opening our hearts in love. A prayer that is emotionally fl~t.and cold is the sacrifice displeasing to God. Perhaps that is why Paul tells.us that because "we-do, not know how to pray as we ought, the Spirit makes intercession f~or us with groanings that cannot be-expressed in speech" (Rm 8:26). That is an invitation to pray our feelings, to pray from and with our emotions. That is what God asks for and longs to share, for it is that which is most truly in our hearts. The Spirit helps us to raise what we are feeling in prayer, even if it can be expressed in no other way than by a groan. Since we are to live as we pray, God expects from us a life that is emotionally honest and open. How often we repress our feelings and hold in check our passion. We refuse to allow ourselves to feel and that pre-vents us from being as effective and compassionate as Jesus was and calls us to be. The "cry of the poor" is too painful to hear so we learn to close to the poor not only our ears but also our hearts. We dull our abil-ity and willingness to feel and so lose a major motivating force behind Christian action. Pity is not the issue here, rather compassion and jus-tice. Perhaps it was because Jesus was a man of such strong emotions that he was as compassionate and sensitive as the Scriptures say. Yet not only did Jesus have strong feelings, he was willing to live with them and feel them. Because he did not repress what he felt but lived what he felt he could be moved enough to touch and heal the leper (Mk 1:41) and raise the widow's son (Lk 7:11-17). If Jesus was the troublemaker and law-breaker the Pharisees claimed, it was because he allowed his emotions to so move his charity and inspire his faith that he saw not simply the law but the people the law did not and could not serve. God's Call for a Passionate Faith Jesus' emotion is most manifest in his faith. Many people were raised to believe that faith is something we do with our minds, that faith is an intellectual act of agreement or obedience to a tradition or set of beliefs. While it may be that, it is not only that. This is clear from the way Jesus lived and how he believed. For Jesus, faith was an emotion that gripped not only his mind, but his heart and body as well. Oftentimes one emotion is held in check by another. A boy, for in-stance, may want to introduce himself to a girl. The "love" he feels for her is held in check, though, by his "fear" of being rejected. He de-cides to say nothing. Fear has overruled his young love. Similarly, a per-son may feel inclined to speak out on a justice issue. That person too feels fear. But this time the person's convictions on the matter, the per- The God of the Scriptures / 649 son's belief, is the stronger of the two and bids the person to speak out. Here faith overruled fear. All of us know what fear is, all of us have felt it. Reflect for a mo-ment what happens when you feel fear. The mind freezes, it becomes difficult or even impossible to think. The entire body is also affected. Knees shake, palms sweat, the mouth runs dry. If the fear is sharp enough we may even close our eyes and prefer to block out the cause of our fear. Fear, to be sure, is a powerful emotion. It would require, then, an equally powerful emotion to counter it. Only two emotions give us the courage to overcome fear: love and faith--although the two are intimately related. A mother stands terrified at the sight of her burning home when she hears the cry of her child from within. Her fear of the flames and smoke cause her to stand for a mo-ment paralyzed until love for her child overpowers the fear and forces her in to rescue him. Jeremiah the prophet stands equally terrified be-fore the people gathered at the Temple. He too, however, hears--or rather feels--an inner voice, the call of God bidding him to speak in God's name. For a moment his fear prevails before the faith within his heart overwhelms it and causes him to cry out. . How many of us have had our faith compromised by fear? By clos-ing ourselves to our feelings, by repressing our emotions, we have been eliminating a source of strength that could well empower our faith to ri-val that of tl~e prophets. If our faith is solely intellectual it is but half, at best, of what it could be. Faith is authentic when it flows from our hearts, when it flows from our love for God. Jeremiah, for example, and Jesus after him, may have seemed like people without faith because they spoke against the traditions and cus-toms of the people. They could rightly be asked, "Have you no faith, Jeremiah, in the Temple and the promise God made to dwell in it always? Why is it so hard for you to have faith in what our traditions teach.? Why can't you agree with them?" Faith in this sense is an act of the intellect. But for Jeremiah, for the other prophets, and for Jesus, faith was an act of love; its motive force was an intuition of God's abiding presence within. They felt God's love and returned it as they could (that is, they believed) and it was that faith in God's love that enabled them to stand up and say what their hearts could not deny. The love they felt empowered them, gave their faith the spirit of cour-age. All of us are given the gift of that love. All of us have within our-selves the courage to truly use our faith. But so often in closing ourselves to our emotions, in denying them, we deny ourselves the grace, the love, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 that gives us the courage to truly believe. Jesus and the prophets before him were not ashamed of their emotions. Indeed, they prayed with them (Jeremiah's lamentations, for example) by bringing them before God in-stead of hiding them in the dark recesses of their spirits. By so doing, they provide an example for all us of authentic living and prayer. Praying with our Emotions Oddly enough, it is the emotion of fear that most inhibits us from bringing our.other emotions to prayer. As mentioned earlier, prayer is a naturally revealing activity. In prayer, the love and union we share with God is revealed and made known to us. We may receive the revelation of truths and intuitions about questions and problems we may have, as well as insights into God and ourselves. It is this that often scares us into emotional and spiritual repression. In the quiet, centering communion of prayer with God, we forget to maintain many of the blocks and barriers we place between our conscious selves and our more disquieting emotions. Suddenly and quite unexpect-edly we can find the composure of our prayer compromised by unwel-comed feelings. The person whose thoughts continue to center upon feel-ings of passion for a lover, the religious whose heart is suddenly filled with anger and resentment toward a superior, the person who becomes aware of his or her jealousy and envy--all of these people find the re-warding calm of prayer ruined by the onslaught of emotions. In each of these cases, whether or not prayer has been ruined de-pends upon whose agenda is being followed. Prayer is a dialogue. How-ever, especially with meditation, prayer can become a monologue of si-lence. Our meditation can be but another way of saying, "Listen God, there are just some things I'd sooner not think about. Why don't we just sit here quietly and ignore them together." Our prayer agenda calls for some peace and quiet, a bit of reprieve, a break in the action of confron-tation. Yet we find ourselves continually pestered by thoughts and feel-ings we've decided not to share. Might it be, however, that their contin-ual interruption is an effort on God's part to make it part of our prayer? Might God have an agenda too? And might that agenda include the very feelings we are so desperate to ignore? It might do well, then, since prayer is a dialogue, to "ask" God about what should be shared. One way of doing so is by beginning our prayer with a bit of soul searching journaling. We might record what and how we are feeling, any significant encounters we have had with peo-ple, good and bad. The point is not to dwell on any of them. Rather we acknowledge what is already inside of us. We acknowledge it to God and The God of the Scriptures / 651 to ourselves. Then, having done that, we set it aside and open ourselves to God. Yet, the very action of having been honest with ourselves about what we arefeeling has already opened the doors to our deepest selves to God. We have laid everything bare and have effectively told God, "Well, now that you know, what do you say?" Then if our prayer is quiet, perhaps God is saying, "Let it rest for now," and so we should. If, however, we find the emotions returning, perhaps we should pay them some prayerful attention. It is one matter to continually harp on a feeling and another tO at-tend to one that finds its way to the surface. Yet it is here that fear can overcome all else and totally inhibit our communion with God, not to mention any communion with ourselves. We are afraid of what may come if we allow our emotions to flow. We are afraid of what God may think if we stood before God with emotions bare. Perhaps most of all, we are afraid of what we would have to admit about ourselves if we al-lowed our spiritual vision to focus upon our feelings. Especially in times of stress, when we need prayer most, we are most reluctant, most afraid to pray because the emotions we so fear are so close to surface, so hard to dispel. In such cases the fear and shame we so strongly feel should be the opening movement of our prayer. But here is the test. Have we the faith to share what we fear? Here we become the shy person struggling to talk to a friend. Here we become the mother rooted in fear or stirred by love into action. Here we find the revelation, not of God but of ourselves, that prayer so powerfully conveys. Here we find a truth about ourselves. Prayer is a dialogue. Has God been speaking, shouting through hands pressed tight against our ears, trying to get through? Summary We can repress our prayer and weaken our faith because we are un-willing to face the passion of our own emotions. Why? Is it God's rejec-tion or wrath that we fear or is it facing the truth about ourselves? Some people are simply ashamed that they are emotional people at all. Some-where many of us have learned that we should be rational at the expense of being emotional. Emotions are something to master, signs of weak-ness, occasions for sin. To be holy is to be emotionally controlled. Pei-haps. To be sure, some emotions need to be held in check. Some need to be confessed. But not all. Our emotions are occasions for grace, provided we let our God work through them. They can be conduits leading to deeper prayer. They can be the means for facing and overcoming our fear of living. For indeed, 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 without emotions we are less than human. We were made in the image and likeness of a living, feeling God who is revealed in the pages of Scrip-ture as a truly passionate lover, a God who, for example, is quite honest about being "jealous." We were made to have feelings and to use our emotions to feel and act alive. If Jesus was not ashamed of the force of his emotions, why should we? As Christians we are called to become fully alive. That means learn-ing to live with and harness our emotions. Truly, our emotions are gifts from God, gifts to be enjoyed, gifts for which we can be grateful. But before any of that can happen, our emotions must first be accepted. The Dancer Is falling in love with you autumn leaves swirling in the wind, fish swimming in the flooded ,,;hallows after a heavy rainfall? Is this love a meditative symphony, where the listener is impelled to pause, be attentive to the secret voice talking with his heart? Is this love a walk without fear into the forest of Solitude, where I go to plant my tree of hope? Is this love an ancient la Jota, sometimes graceful and slow, at other moments fast and exciting? How do I overcome my reluctance? Become like David, who danced before the Lord because it was pleasing to him? Brother Richard Heatley, F.S.C. De La Salle Centre 45 Oaklands Avenue Toronoto, Ontario M4V 2E4, Canada Romantic Relations with the Sacred Richard J. DeMaria, C.F.C. Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C., currently serves as Executive Vice President and the Vice President for Academic Affairs at lona College. His address is lona Col-lege; New Rochelle, New York 10801. In the recent, surprisingly successful film, Th~rOse, based on the life of St. Th6r~se of Lisieux, there is a scene that has remained with me for months. Th6r~se's sister visits her during what was to be a terminal ill-ness, and noticing that Th6r~se has pinned a small crucifix to her pil-low, observes: "So you two are back together again." To which, as I recall it, Th6r~se blushes and nods in agreement. The audience--a New York City audience--to my amazement did not laugh here or at any time during a movie which portrayed Th6r~se as a woman engaged in a ro-mantic relationship with Jesus, a relationship characterized by falling outs, jealousies, reunions, disagreements, and coquetry. And by love. And by passion. The film places Th6r~se in a very old tradition of spirituality, a tra-dition which uses the language and ways of romantic love to describe a person's interaction with the sacred. The romantic poem "The Song of Songs" comes immediately to mind: the longing of a bride for her bride-groom is used as an image of the human experience with the sacred. Ap-parently that image was found sufficiently apt among the Hebrew peo-ple for the poem to be included and preserved in its canon of sacred litera-ture. We find in other religions similar spiritualities linking sexual im-agery and prayer, the link sometimes explicitly recognized and cele-brated, at other times, we assume, camouflaged and unrecognized but fairly apparent to those who read between lines. As R. Zaehner, the Oxford authority on mysticism, observes: 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 There is no point at all blinking at the fact that the raptures of the theis-tic mystic are closely akin to the transports of sexual union, the soul play-ing the part of the female and (~od appearing as the male. ~ In the history of religion, one finds many spiritualities that approach life as if there were two lovers involved. In Hinduism, one finds among the different paths by which one can yoke himself or herself to God, the path of bhakti in which one takes on the Lord as lover. Kabir, the fif-teenth- century Indian mystic, as translated by Bly, uses the term "the Guest" to name the inner lover: My body and my mind are in depression because you are not with me. How much I love you and want you in. my house! When 1 hear people describe me as your bride I look sideways ashamed, Because I know that far inside us we have never met. Then what is this love of mine? I don't really care about food, I don't really care about sleep, I am restless indoors and outdoors. The bride wants her lover as much as a thirsty man wants water. And how will I find someone who will take a message to the Guest from me? How restless Kabir is all the time! How much he wants to see the Guest!z The existence of a relationship between mysticism and sexuality is clear and widespread in the historical record. The question is: how shall we interpret and understand the presence of romaritic and sexual lan-guage in religious writing? More to the point are the following questions: Is it possible to carry on a love relationship with an invisible, non-human lover? Does this spirituality find any basis in the way things are? Is there someone there to love? Is this use of romantic language healthy? Unless we at least advert to these questions from the outset, they stand as obstacles to our ability to approach this tradition with openness. There are many analysts who interpret experiences of romantic spiri-tuality as situations in which sexual energy, having been denied its usual outlet, finds a (distorted) outlet in the religious arena. Accordingly, mys-ticism is in reality sexual energy that is misdirected. Although this sub-limation is usually unrecognized by the person involved, its true nature can be readily recognized by the perceptive observer. In sum, people in-volved in religious romanticism are victims of misplaced energy; their lives are based upon an unreal perception of the way things are. Other analysts suggest that the situation is quite the opposite: a ba-sic drive, a basic need within humans, is for union with the transcendent. Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 655 According to this theory, the mystic is a person who is responding quite directly to this basic drive. Other humans respond to this drive by en-gaging themselves in sexual, romantic relationships with other humans. This is a valid way of fulfilling this need. The power of human, inter-personal sexuality, and the way that relationship is experienced and de-scribed, derive from the more basic desire of the human to interact with the sacred. Because the inter-human sexual experience is one form of the more general mystical experience, it should not surprise us that the lan-guage of human love and the language of mystical 10ve are quite simi-lar. Alan W. Watts, in Myth and Ritual in Christianity makes the fol-lowing observation: But a sexually self-conscious culture such as our own must beware of its natural tendency to see religion as a symbolizing of sex, for to sexu-ally uncomplicated people it has always been obvious that sex is a sym-bol of religion. That is to say, the ecstatic self-abandonment of nuptial love is the average man's nearest approach to the selfless state of mys-tical and metaphysical experience. For this reason the act of love is the easiest and most readily intelligible illustration of what it is like to be in "union with God," to live the eternal life, free from self and time.3 Perhaps it will never be possible to prove convincingly which of these two theories is true. Some look to an epistemology which concen-trates its attention not on questions about the way things are but rather on questions about what ways work. Such an approach considers a the-ory to be true, or a path to be true, when it works. Pragmatic approaches to understanding our lives can reflect a careless and shallow attitude about truth, but not necessarily so. The form of pragmatism discussed here, recognizing the complexity of the human psyche and the mystery of the sacred, and recognizing the inability of the human mind to under-stand these with any clarity, reasons that if a particular construct or the-ory works, it works because it approximates the way things are. This is an epistemology often used in the physical sciences. Consider, for ex-ample, the solar system model of the atom. No one has seen an atom. Serious scientists do not think that the atom is composed of electrons, circling a nucleus of neutrons and protons, like a solar system. Scien-tists, however, have used the construct of a solar system when thinking about the atom, because when they have followed out the implications of that model, they have been able to explain many past experiences (ex-periments). And, even more importantly, when they devised new experi-ments and applications suggested by the model, these led to important new discoveries. Science has done well, then, to think of the atom as if 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 it were a solar system. Even if the atom is not a solar system, the solar system picture predicts how the atom will work. And it is not unreason-able to conclude from this that in many ways the solar system model ap-proximates the reality of the atom. In sum, while recognizing that a con-struct is an imagined picture, a person follows it because she believes that it will lead her close to the way things are. Against the background of this epistemology, we can now turn our attention to those paths in which a person is involved in a relationship with a person who is not physically present but who is perceived to be real, important, and worthy of ~ittention; a relationship which according to the person herself and according to observers, gives direction and strength. Whether the other is perceived as guru, teacher, patron, guide, angel, patron saint, or--as in the particular spirituality we are discuss-ing-- as the romantically loved one, the relationship has a real effect upon the growth and behavior of the participant. In his play Big Shot, Jack Gelber portrays the positive, powerful influence which two "imagi-nary" persons--a wise, aged prophetic man, and a seductive woman-- have upon a young man's ability to make decisions about his life and to move toward maturity. (Interestingly, these two visitors never appear to-gether in the boy's thoughts; the appearance of one signals the exit of the other. At the play's end, however, they interact with one another and exit together, perhaps symbolizing something of an integration of the re-ligious and the sexual in his consciousness.) According to what was said above, one should evaluate the tradition of romantic spirituality by asking: What happens to persons when they act as if there were an inner sacred person there? Does it lead to desir-able ends? In this approach one judges a religious path worth consider-ing if it has "worked" for many people, in many religions, in many dif-ferent ages. What is meant by "worked"? The validity of this or any path is established by its ability to lead practitioners into that special con-sciousness which is called "religious." In the Christian faith, people in that consciousness are said to be in the state of sanctifying grace and ex-hibit characteristics such as love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Ga 5:22). History attests that the path of devotion, of romantic love, is a path that has led many to that consciousness; the way works. The seeker of God who utilizes the con-struct of romantic love does not need to know for certain whether there is a real person with whom she can interact in love. She does know that when she acts as if there were such a person, wonderful things do hap-pen. In Bhakti Yoga, the author writes: Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 657 All our attitudes, moral or emotional, as well as religious are due to the objects of our consciousness: the things which we believe to exist whether really or ideally along with ourselves. Such objects may be pre-sent to our senses or they may be present to our thought; in either case they elicit from us a reaction and the reaction due to things of thought is notoriously in many cases as strong as that due to sensible presences. It may even be stronger . 4 How does one follow this path? By undertaking the same practices which a man or woman utilizes in establishing a love relationship with a human being. By conversing. By sharing feelings. By trying to please. By actions of union. By admiration. By efforts to merge into one an-other. By writing poems of love. By singing songs of love. By making sacrifices. By exchanging gifts. By establishing rituals, special places, and special times. By secrets shared. By anger expressed. And by hurts told. By arguing. By compromising. How does one advise or counsel a person on this path? As one would advise or counsel a person struggling with any experience of love. The spiritual director will help him to recognize the stages of love. The di-rector will lead her to expect periods of doubt, of loneliness, of seeming neglect, of loss of attraction--the dark nights of the soul. He must be assisted in learning the art of conversation, and especially the art of lis-tening. (For let there be no doubt about it: the person does experience conversation, responses and answers that surprise by their unexpected-ness. Where do these answers come from? Suffice it to say that when questions are asked of this inner lover, this inner guest,' one "hears" answers.) The director will need to counsel the practitioner about the im-portance of fidelity, to help recall the good times in moments of dark-ness, and to point her to better times ahead. The person engaged in this path does experience another actor in his life. Outside observers may wish to interpret this experience as the ef-fects of the "alter ego," or the "subconscious," or the "repressed self." These interpretations should not be allowed to discourage the lover, if forhim the experience of this other is real, and if the effects of carrying out a relationship of love with that "person" are beneficial and if they are leading her into grace. This path does not work for everyone. In New Wineskins,5 Sandra Schneiders observes that in earlier times it was assumed that all women entering into the religious life would find in this romantic spirituality a comfortable and effective path. Women religious, on their day of pro-fession, came to the altar dressed as brides, as the choir sang "Veni Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Sponsa Christi," in a ceremony that was designed to imitate in many ways that of a marriage. Schneiders suggests that in fact many Sisters did not find this path to be effective for them. For many, it was a kind of play.acting, which in later years---especially if they were influenced by Freudian thinking--they came to regard as a childish effort to subli-mate energies better redirected in other ways. Today, almost all traces of this bridal spirituality have been removed from the rituals and from the language of contemporary religious women. Women who have en-tered religious life in recent years may not even be aware of this spiritu-ality. By way of conclusion, two questions about this path of spirituality suggest themselves. First, in this relationship, does the soul always take the role of the feminine to the masculine God, a role in which the hu-man seeks to be filled, empowered, or taken over by the other? The male poet, Kabir, cited before, who wrote in a culture which knew of both male and female gods, always--at least in translation--describes him-self as feminine in relationship to the sacred. Listen to the following poem: I played for ten years with the girls of my own age, but now I am sud-denly in fehr. I am on the way up some stairs--they are high. Yet I have to give up my fears if I want to take part in this love. I have to let go of the protective clothes and meet him with the whole length of my body. My eyes will have to be the love candles this time. Kabir says: Men and women in love will understand this poem. If what you feel for the holy one is not desire, then what's the use of dressing with such care, and spending so much time making your eyelids dark.6 Can one approach the sacred as masculine? Or must one utilize the feminine side (the anima) in one's relationship with the sacred (assum-ing of course that every person, regardless of gender, is both animus and anima)? And if this is true, will this path of spirituality come more natu-rally to women than to men? Or, again if it is true, would the fact that a person has a gay or lesbian orientation affect the attractiveness and ef-fectiveness of this spirituality? A second questign.: what (if any) is the connection between this spousal spirituality and celibacy? Clearly, spousal spirituality does ap-peal and does work for non-celibates as well as celibates. Does celibacy enable one to pursue this path more quickly or more deeply? Does the fact that one is not pursuing the path of romantic human love dispose one Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 659 toward this path more urgently? Or, to take the quite opposite position, would familiarity and experience with human romantic love give one the lexicon and the understandings that enable one to move more quickly into this more interior love? To conclude: the spiritual path of romantic relationships with the sa-cred has been neglected in recent years, perhaps because twentieth-century psychology has called into question so many of the foundations upon which it was based. There is, however, a way of understanding our ways of knowing, consonant with contemporary science, which gives 'permission' to those so attracted to follow this path, to see whether it leads them into grace. While the path will not attract, nor work for, eve-ryone, a knowledge of its history and dynamics should be made avail-able to those who are searching for ways into the world of the sacred. NOTES ~ R.C. Zaehner, Mysticism, Sacred and Profane, (New York, 1961), p. 151. 2 Robert Bly, trans., The Kabir Book, (Boston, 1977), p. 20. 3 Alan W. Watts, Myth and Ritual in Christianity, (Boston, 1968), p. 104. 4 "Bhikshu," Bhakti Yoga, (Chicago, 1930), p. 19. 5 Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins, Re-imagining Religious Life Today, (New York, !986), p. 116. 6 Bly, p. 42. Negative Floating Barbara Dent Barbara Dent, mother and grandmother, has been for eigthteen years a Secular Carme-lite. She published "The Floating Prayer" in our issue of March/April 1988. The current article is a part of a book-in-process called Floating in Endless Love. She may be addressed at Poustinia; 7A Cromwell Place; Pukekohe, New Zealand. In this article I use the word "floating" to indicate the kind of detach-ment and freedom that is attained once we have ascended a certain dis-tance up the nada path. When I write of "floating in endless love," 1 mean the traditional self-abandonment to divine providence as exemplified by holy people of any age, and written about by such recognized saints as Teresa, John of the Cross, Francis de Sales, Jane Frances de Chantal, Caussade, Th~r~se. Our Lady is, of course, the supreme exemplar, and her "Be it done unto me according to your word," a succinct summary of the doc-trine. Divine providence is God's endless love. It had no beginning and will never have an end. It is conterminous with his Being and expresses itself throughout his creation. When he made us in his own image, he gave us the ability to be ef-fortlessly immersed in this love, borne along in the currents and eddies of its movement in time and space, as it ordained and controlled the cir-cumstances of our lives, and we rejoiced in its faultless wisdom and ten-derness. At that beginning-time we had our Creator's discerning Spirit within us, and joyfully cooperated with the process of floating in the divine will, for through it the perfection of his love for us expressed itself, and we were fully open and receptive to it. We were in the state of innocence, which means single-mindedness and wholeness of heart. 660 Negative Floating / 66"1 Then came the "aboriginal catastrophe"--in one, or many, of a num-ber of possible forms. Its basic effect was to confuse, divide, and mis-lead us about the nature of our relationship with our Master. We were, and are, no longer in that original state of love-union's positive, effort-less floating. Instead, we are too often thrashing about in protest at being in the water at all. We persist in struggling to reach some imaginary shore, strik-ing out against the current, gulping water, feeling terrified that we are drowning, pushing away Love's hand held out to draw us to safety, and generally being at odds with our spiritual environment. Our innocence lost, we have become acquainted with sin--actual or potential, deliberate or involuntary. Floating in endless love does not any longer seem to be the obvious, healthy, joyous thing for us to do. We have lost the art, and have to be taught all over again by grace. And because we no longer learn the mys-teries of God effortlessly through direct infusion, the Spirit's modes of teaching us often register on us as nay-saying, destructive, painful, and incomprehensible. This is because God's endless love flowing into us is constantly encountering obstacles of self-love and self-will within us. These cause the flow to be interrupted, dammed up, diverted, and im-peded in numberless ways. We now have to re-learn what we were fashioned to know without even thinking about it. This learning is painful and arduous, and regis-ters on us as a state of negative floating. It entails erasure of all those obstacles against floating--whether personally manufactured, handed on to us by our families and social milieu, or inherited and buried so deeply in our mysterious inner being that we shall never even catch sight of them, let alone drag them up and free ourselves from them, unless the Spirit helps us in a very special way. We are weighted down so that we are more likely to sink to the ocean bed than to float in delight in the surface currents of God's purpose, rev-elling in their effortless, exact progress towards our ultimate fulfillment in him. Positive and negative floating are part of the normal cycle of conso-lation and desolation in the spiritual life. If we persevere in floating in God's loving purpose for us, there comes a time when, just as his crea- ¯ tive energy evolved birds out of fish, he somehow dispenses altogether with the metaphorical liquid element in order to lift us up so high in the Spirit that we are suspended in midair. We usually think of such suspension as bodily levitation and miracu- 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 IOUS. But the essence of free-floating in the atmosphere, metaphorically speaking, is entirely spiritual and interior, a flight of the spirit that usu-ally has no physical, exterior signs at all. It is the result of an opening up to God's love that on our part includes the complete abandonment of our whole selves to his usage, and on his part such lavish infusion of his grace that its energy elevates us temporarily into his own Being. This is the ultimate in positive floating. It mysteriously and paradoxi-cally also includes the ultimate in negative floating, for in order to give ourselves up to it, we need to have renounced all the not-God elements so that there is now nothing at all in us or our lives opposing his desire to take full possession of us. God is non-corporeal. When this moment of total possession takes place, he draws up our non-corporeal spirit to merge with his own. This merging, can be accomplished in both, or either, of the positive and nega-tive floating states. After about six months of intensely positive floating immediately af-ter my reception into the Church in 1956, I was gradually translated into the negative floating state and remained there without any remission for nearly twelve years. During my conversion year, 1955, I had already learnt to enter Christ's passion with him by uniting my personal suffering with his in Gethsemane and throughout the various aspects of his passion, especially his cross-carrying and crucifixion. At one particular time in 1958 when I vividly experienced what I came to call the crucifixion of my heart, something extra happened within me that I could at the time define only as "entombment." Yet the crucifixion did not cease. I was somehow still on the cross with Christ even while I was lying dead with him in the cave tomb's cold darkness. I cannot explain how this was. I only know it happened, and was spiritually and interiorily real in an agonizing way. I think I was able to endure these years of intensely negative float-ing only because, during most of them, I was fully occupied being a daily Mass-goer, solo mother, housekeeper, teacher, breadwinner, writer, and student. There was not much opportunity for what my mother disparag-ingly used to call "navel-gazing"--adding, in exasperation, "Why don't you go out and have a good game of tennis!" In spite of immersion in an undoubtedly and unavoidably active life (my form of a good game of tennis!), I yet received insights from time to time that infused some sense into the non-sense of my relationship Negative Floating / 663 with God. For this was where the nonsense, the absurdity, occurred. My rela-tionship with Jesus in his incarnational work of suffering redeemer and crucified Lord made very good sense to me, and gave me the courage to go on enduring. It was from God and his ways that the conundrum originated. Once more he had become for me the "cruel, sadistic mon-ster" who, during the early war years, had caused my rejection of my personal and inadequate version of the Christian religion. One of the key insights I received in the earlier of these negative float-ing years of the 1960s came about as follows. I can visualize clearly where it happened, just as I can vividly recall .where other significant, instant comprehensions occurred, for example, those about "the abyss of corruption" and the self-love involved in my mechanism of setting out to "fascinate" certain people. Such instant dis-cernments come to me like a crystal globe enclosing the truth, and put whole and clear in my mind all at once. The experience is completely different from arriving at a similar conclusion by the laborious process - of ratiocination. It is a matier of immediate comprehension received as a whole and in passivity. In fact, in a floating state, as it were. On this particular occasion I was sitting one morning at the desk in the home of my eldest daughter and her husband, alone in the house ex-cept for a sleeping child. Then in one instant the insight came whole-- just like a very bright light being turned on in my mind, then extin-guished almost immediately, yet leaving behind it the vivid impression of a particular mystery made plain in its illumination. In this case, I "understood" what caused Jesus to cry out, "My God, my God, why have you rejected me?" Just as I had become one with him in other aspects of his passion at various times, now I had become one with him in his cry of derelic-tion. His cry was one with the cry of my own heart to an alien, absentee God, whose face was turned away from me in contempt. Jesus' despair-ing question was to do with his having consented to be "made sin" for us. This was the central point-of the illumination given me. I had bought my Knox bible in 1956 and used it until I obtained the Jerusalem version in 1969. The texts I have marked in the Knox were the ones that had very special meaning for me personally during these darkest years of the cry of dereliction. I have underlined, "Christ never knew sin, and God made him into sin for us, so that in him we might be turned into the holiness of God" (2 Co 5:21). I "saw" that sin was absolutely abhorrent to and automatically re- 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 pudiated by God because it was the antithesis of his own unblemished holiness and purity. "God was in Christ, reconciling the world to him-self, establishing in our hearts his message of reconciliation, instead of holding men to account for their sins" (2 Co 5: 19), and "In Christ the whole plenitude of Deity is embodied." Hanging on the cross, dying for us, "made sin," Jesus, though God himself, consented to be relegated in his manhood to the furthest possi-ble distance from God--as f~ir as pure sin must be, of its nature, dis-tanced from pure holiness. It must have been the most elemental, cata-clysmic, schizoid split of all time. In and through this alienation Jesus endured, "the world"--all of us sinners of all time--could be "reconciled" to God instead of being eternally severed from him in self-induced banishment. In effect, Jesus willed to go through the experience of damnation as our proxy, as vic-tim instead of us. This meant knowing God only through the aching void of his ab-sence; submitting to the punitive action of the total recoil of pure holi-ness from pure unholiness; being invaded by a sense of rejection so ab-solute as to know what the hell-state meant, and to be engulfed in it. There is impenetrable mystery here, a paradox so extreme that the human mind cannot encompass it. How could Christ, in whom "the whole plenitude of Deity" remained unimpaired, yet experience himself as "the totality of sin" rejected by that Deity? The how, the mystery, is beyond our human comprehension. The paradox is mind-blowing. I cannot explain fully what I "saw" in the illumination. At the time, I knew it without intellectual explication. This came later, as I meditated upon what I had received, and thought more about what Paul said, out of what was obviously his own personal experience and given insight. Enli/~htenments about this mystery hidden within Christ's dereliction cry have continued to come spasmodically to me up to this present time. "All alike have sinned, all alike are unworthy of God's praise. And justification comes to us as a free gift from his grace, through our re-demption in Christ Jesus. God has offered him to us as a means of rec-onciliation, in virtue of faith, ransoming us with his blood" (Rm 3:23- 25). I had already understood how the solidarity of the human race was such that the salvation or damnation of any one of us must involve and concern all of us. In pouring out in his shed blood his "free gift of grace" for us, Jesus excluded no one, for none of us is sinless. We are all inevitably born programmed for possible disaster by the racial accu- Negative Floating mulation of wrong turnings made while trying to reach a destination whose nature and location we are confused about. Our tendency to get lost is in our genes. ~ "In sin my mother conceived me," is not a reference to the sexual act as such, but to the fact that the whole of humanity is in a state of at least partial alienation from God and can be reconciled only through Christ. Jesus entered the furthest reaches of this alienation when, as the vic-tim for our sins, he uttered his cry of dereliction on the cross. I saw in my moment of illumination that, once I had in 1957 told God he could have me as a victim for the salvation of souls (if he wanted me), I had implicitly consented to enter in some way into this dereliction of Jesus, and keep him company. At the same time, I was not certain God had accepted my offer, for no one had yet confirmed that I was indeed a victim, and I was not to have that assurance for several years yet. It was only then that everything fitted together coherently. But I did see in that moment of revelation that here was the meaning and purpose of the annihilating experience of my-self as spurned and rejected by God, even while at the same time, in my will, I refused to let go of him, and clung on with all my strength. Much later, I realized that even while God "rejected" me, he gave me that very grace I needed to cling tenaciously to him. At the same time, the illumination did not bring me any comforting reassurance, for I could not really believe it applied to me. This may seem a contradiction, but the grace of comfort is an extra grace, and for those years of torment God chose to withhold it from me, no matter what insights he gave my intellect. That I already had a well-established, deep-seated rejection syn-drome as part of my emotional makeup made it simpler and easier for all of this to happen. Grace had only to activate and utilize what was al-ready there, so deeply rooted in my inner being. I believe that God did this in order to use me for others as I had pleaded with him to do. In the terms I have since evolved for myself, I was "floating". in the negative way with Jesus on the cross, as part of "the Dali image." I was there tb help my neighbor, any neighbor--it was for God to choose whom, I never asked to be shown who, how, or where. "Enemies of God, we were reconciled to him through his Son's death; reconciled to him, we are surer than ever of finding salvation in his Son's life. And, what is more, we can boast of God's protection; al-ways through our Lord Jesus Christ, since it is through him that we have 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 attained our reconciliation"(Rm 5:10-1 I). "We who were taken up into Christ by baptism have been taken up, all of us, into his death . We have to be closely fitted into the pat-tern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death" (Rm 6:3, 5). Sin and salvation, death and life, crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus and all of us--inseparable. It is all mingled together like the confluence of two mighty rivers flowing as one towards the ocean of eternity and infinity. We have to "share his sufferings if we are to share his glory" (Rm 8:17). Some refuse the suffering and do not believe in the glory. Proxies must, in their stead, agree to be immersed in the passion with Jesus, so that the glory will permeate them, too. He came to save all. His will to redeem the whole of humanity can-not and will not be thwarted, but we are all one with him, and so those who are willing must help him save those who are unwilling. He expects and requires this of his lovers, though not necessarily as explicit victims, for this must be a given vocation. "For thy sake, we face death at every moment, reckoned no better than sheep marked down for slaughter. Yet in all this we are conquer-ors, through him who has granted us his love" (Rm 8:36-37). In the "inscrutable judgments" and "undiscoverable ways" of God is hidden the mystery of the redemption of the human race, in which all participate, consciously or unconsciously. The willing "offer up their bodies as a living sacrifice" because "though we are many in number" (trillions and trillions of us back to the beginning and on to the end of time), we yet "form one body in Christ and each acts as the counter-part of the other" (see Rm 12). Paul insists we are "Christ's body, organs of it depending upon each other" (1 Co 12:27), and therefore "the sufferings of Christ overflow into our lives"--together with divine comfort (2 Co 1:5). For Paul, shar-ing in the sufferings of Christ in order to bring forth spiritual children for him, is a fundamental Christian vocation. He writes, "It makes me happy to suffer for you, as I am sufferi.ng now, and in my own body to do what I can to make up all that has still to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church. I became the servant of the Church" (Col 1:24-25). All these teachings of St. Paul, marked in my Knox bible, had had dynamic personal meaning for me ever since 1956, the year of my re-ception into the Church. They had been fortified and elucidated by stud-ies of such theological works as The Whole Christ by E. Mersch, S.J. Negative Floating / 66"/ (Dobson, London, 1956). They were in the very fiber of my interior life, yet, though I knew, believed, and lived what Jesus exemplified and Paul taught and lived, no felt comfort and consolation resulted. I was given strength to endure (while experiencing myself as weak and destitute) and that was all. But to endure and to persevere is at the very basis of the nada path journey, and the grace given me to do this was among the supreme ones of my life. Father Basil had now become my director, though, as he had been transferred, we seldom had the chance to meet. What he wrote to me in a letter of July, 1963, is relevant to the above. I quote: God does love you very dearly. Think of the tremendous graces that you have received from him. Your desire to give him everything in return is all that matters. You give, generously, only to the One whom you love . I am not so much concerned about the aridity and difficulty that you are experiencing at your prayers and the seeming loss of God. What I am concerned about is your loss of peace and near panic, because of the difficulties. The temptation to discouragement is one of the most insidious and dangerous for an interior soul. If you are patient and do not allow this temptation to dictate any change in your program of the day, you have nothing to fear. In his own good time he will give you the light and the warmth that seem to have disappeared. There is noth-ing in your day that is not worthy of being offered to him. This means that you are every hour united more intimately with him. You are grow-ing in charity and all the virtues, without being conscious of the growth. The increase in charity is all that matters. His reassurance was a blessing, calming me until the next spasm of self-doubt and apparent rejection by God afflicted me. Then I would re-read what he said, and be comforted again. In a queer way it was as if God himself was telling me, "Don't worry. Everything's all right-- even though it seems to be all wrong." Again he was loving me through "a soul in which he had established himself," just as he had promised as I lay so ill and weak in the hospital. One or two entries in my journals record various aspects of my nega-tive floating at this time. In the following, I think my way through to a grace-enlightened conclusion in faith, hope, and trust. It was not given to me in~stantaneously as a crystal globe. I quote from a 1963 rare entry: It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. 1 have been experiencing the suffering Christ. The climax came in the crucifixion of my heart. Then entombment and silence. Only the dead Christ there, un- 668 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 stirring~ and myself numb and seemingly dead with him year after year, waiting and praying and longing for the resurrection. Now I see the the Lord is risen. He fills my soul and the whole of his Mystical Body. He has risen as he said he would, even while I mourned him dead in me, and I dead with him. He is risen. How can this become more real to me, so that I too rise with him? Let me think . It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. Therefore he is not dead in me~ for his resurrection truly hap-pened. But something did die in me and was entombed. What was it? The overwhelming sense of entombment. Christ dead and in the tomb. And it was a significant turning point. What died? My attachment to and need of natural love? But the process of purgation through hu-man relationships still continues. Yet it is different. How? What died and was buried? "You have undergone death, and your life is buried and hidden away with Christ." I made a heartbreaking renunciation of my own free will, and I gave up--what? What died? My heart died. Yet I found other loves. "Christ, having undergone death, cannot die any more . He is not here; he has risen as he told you . We have to be closely fitted into the pattern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death . We'know that Christ, now he has risen from the dead, cannot die any more. Death has no more power over him . " It was not Christ who died in me, for he cannot die any more. It was something in myself that died. And all the while I have been entombed, he has been living in my soul the life of the risen Lord. His resurrection is continuous just as much as his passion is. Somehow I have to become united with this.risen Christ. Like La-zarus called forth from the tomb, I have to shed my grave clothes and answer the call of the Lord, but "how? How? I don't know how. He has to say, "Come forth," and then I shall be able to move. Yet he eternally says, "Come forth," inviting me to share his life of glory in the Trinity, the life he is already living in my soul all the time I am in a state of grace. Only somehow I cannot unite myself with it, because the tomb wall seems in the way. What is the tomb wall? My compulsion to suffer psychologically in a certain way? Perhaps. Lord, give me light. Holy Spirit, whom he sends, lead me forth. Pray in and for me. I have been in a state of inertia, feeling I could do nothing till Christ rose in me--but he has never been dead in me. It was a part of myself that died, not he. All the time he has been waiting for me to come to him. Perhaps he has already said, "Come forth," only I have been so busy with my self-inflicted mourning, that l haven't heard him. My anguish was the death of some form of self-love, the crucifix- Negative Floating / 669 ion of some kind of seif-will, some aspect of the "world" that I clung to. "The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light . And he shall reign forever and ever . Come and bring forth from the dungeon the prisoner sitting in darkness and the shadow of death . " The shadow of my death. Just one of the excruciatihg deaths one must die before one can mount to a higher level on the nada path. Death and renewal. Part of his passion, but the passion is always inseparable from the resurrection, and the resurrection is. I don't have to wait for it--it is. 1 am already in it by the power of g~:ace and the presence of God in my soul. How then do I.realize and live consciously this risen life? That is the question. The "how" was to remain unrealized by me for some years yet. In the meantime I had to live in pure faith the reality of the crucified, en-tombed, but already risen Lord in me and in the whole of creation. 1 had to stay on the cross and in the tomb till God himself chose the time and way for my personal resurrection. I could not raise up myself. It had to be a work of pure grace. The words I use in another brief entry near the end of 1964 all re-veal a state of unalleviated negative floating. They are: Emptiness. Noth-ing. Waiting. Search. No finding. Grief. No.comfort. Dryness. Frigid-i'ty. Impotence. Waiting. Alone. Loneliness. Wa, iting--on and on. Dead-ness. ~umbness. Insensibility. No tears . . . too dry . . . But I believe. I hope. I suffer. I love. I wait. He loves. 1 know he loves. I believe he loves. Amen. In her Life Teresa of Avila tells of a spiritual state that reminds me of what I call "negative floating." First she mentions how St. Paul wrote about "being crucified to the world." Then she comments on how this reminds her of the soul that is receiving comfort from neither heaven nor earth, nor from any other source either. She says that in such a/ state of suspension and denial the soul is "crucified between heaven and earth; and it suffers greatly, for no help comes to it either from the one or from the other." It is "sus-pended by (its) distress, just as in union and rapture (it is) suspended by joy . It is a martyrdom." She records that when she is not physically occupied so that her mind is on something else, she is "plunged into these death-like yearnings." The "pain is so excessive that (she) can scarcely bear it"; she feels as though she has "a rope around (her) neck, is being strangled, is trying 670 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 to breathe . . . and crying out for help to breathe." She longs and longs to be able to talk to someone "who has passed through the same torment, for she finds that, despite her complaints of it, no one seems to believe her." (See Life, Ch. XX.) It was not till my own darkest years were past that I came across the above and was forcibly struck by its similarity to what I myself had ex-perienced. When actually immersed in that suffering, I remember having read that one of the worst sufferings of Jesus on the cross must have been be-ing stifled by his inability to breathe. This was caused by the constric-tion of lungs, heart, and ribs in his hanging posture. To ease it he must have had to heave himself up repeatedly on his nailed feet--an extra ag-ony. I think Teresa is describing the spiritual equivalent of this condition for those in the negative floating state of union with Jesus hanging on the cross. John of the Cross, using different metaphors, writes of what I take to be a similar state. He says it is caused by "purgative contemplation" during which the inflowing of God's presence into the soul "in order to renew it" reaches down into its depths, into its very "spiritual substance." The soul seems to itself to be "drowned in darkness," to be "melting away" and to be enveloped by "a cruel spiritual death." Metaphorically it is like Jonah in the whale's belly. (In relation to this present article, it is worth recalling that Jonah's ordeal has been accepted as a scriptural symbol for Jesus' entombment.) John writes that "in this sepulcher of dark death (the soul) must needs abide until the spiritual resurrection which it hopes for." It is consumed by "the lamentations of death., the pains of hell ¯ . . the clear perception that God has abandoned it, in his abhorrence of it, and has flung it into darkness." It feels "itself to be without God, and chastised and cast out, and unworthy of him; and it feels he is wrathful With it." John also speaks of spiritual stifling and "afflictive suffering" that consists of the soul's feeling as though it "were suspended or held in the air so that it could not breathe." The state is intensified by the fact that the sufferer cannot find help or understanding from any human be-ing. He concludes by writing, "Of such are they that in truth go down alive into hell" (purgatory). (See Dark Night H, Ch. VI.) Negative Floating / 671 I do not know whether what I experienced during these years was the same as what is described by Teresa and John. I only know that when I read them now, as in the above passages, I feel I understand exactly what is being reported, because I myself have been through it. Shall it be N or N plus I lamN. I accepted that. I buried deep in my mind My mathematical knowledge Of what N could really be. Not satisfied with status quo But dreading the pain That moving might mean, I embraced N-fixed, safe and therefore undemanding. Memory would not be stifled. Knowledge that N can be expanded Would twist and turn and peek out Coming to the surface unexpectedly And at times unwanted. There is more. Why not N plus one? Expanding toward potential Could hurt, could be dearly bought. Surely, only here is progress, Expansion toward great goals. Why else do I exist? Except to know N is not complete Without Him as plus One. Sister Marjorie Sweeney, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 734 Willow Street Lebanon, PA 17042 Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines Eamon Tobin Father Eamon Tobin, having completed the Master's degree in Formative Spiritual-ity at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, is currently pastor of a parish in Cocoa Beach, Florida. His address is Church of Our Savior; 5301 North Atlantic Avenue; Cocoa Beach, Florida 32931. The Lord, your God, will circumcise your hearts., that you may love the Lord, your God, with all your heart and all your soul, and so may live (Dt 30:6). Blessed. is the person who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in its presence. Such a person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity (Source Unknown). [~'very praying person sooner or later experiences what is called dryness in prayer. In spiritual dryness we have no felt sense of God's presence. We may,even think we have lost our Beloved or feel abandoned by him. In the sch~)ol, of prayer, few things are more important to understand than the nature and role of spiritual dryness, I intend to deal with this impor-tant dimension of the spiritual life by responding to five important ques-tions that one can ask about prayer in the desert. Question 1: What is it that praying people experience during the desert periods of the spiritual"jou~rney? The actual desert experience of praying persons will vary depending on the level of faith and spiritual maturity. For example, for the beginner in prayer spiritual dryness fre-quently means not just the absence of a felt sense of the presence of God 672 Spiritual Dryness / 67'3 but also feelings of what Saint Ignatius calls desolation--that is, feel-ings of anxiousness, sadness, or lo.ss of peace flowing from the thought, "I have lost God," or "God has abandoned me." On the other hand, for the person who is more mature in faith and advanced in the ways of prayer, spiritual dryness may not be an experience of desolation. The ex-perience will be one which lacks a felt sense of God's presence but may be accompanied by the conviction: "Even though I can't feel his pres-ence (at least on the external level), I do believe he is close and active in my life. Even though I cannot feel his presence (that is, spiritual dry-ness), I don't feel anxious, sad, or abandoned (that is, desolation). In fact, I feel peaceful." ~ To believe that God is present and active despite his apparent absence can be considered one of the greatest blessings of the spiritual life. For most of us, particularly in the early years of prayer, spiritual dryness usually includes the experience of desolation ("I have lost God; God has abandoned me"). Usually it is a time of spiritual suf-fering. We think we are getting the "silent treatment" from God. We "call out to him all day long, but he never answers" (Ps 22:3).2 Spiri-tual dryness is like journeying in the desert with no water in sight. Prayer is no longer exciting; rather, it is a weary struggle. Spiritual exercises that once nourished us now are empty, and we have little or no desire .to do them. Another dimension of the desert experience may be a feeling of dis-couragement as we become keenly aware of our own sinfulness. (We may not yet know that one of the surest signs of growth in the interior life is a growing awareness of our own sinfulness.) We may begin to think we are regressing rather than progressing. We may begin to expe-rience one of the great paradoxes of the spiritual life: the closer we come to God the further it seems to us that we are away from him. As we get closer to the all-piercing Light of God, the more our own darkness will show itself. Our lives will appear to be hollow and mediocre. The Scot-tish priest, the late Father John Dalrymple, writes: "It is as if I were to bring the sleeve of my coat toward the window of the room, and as I move into the light, the dust and dandruff on the sleeve become more obvious. It is not that as I moved the coat got dirtier, but that the light got brighter.''3 All in all, the thing that scares us most and even hurts us is the thought, "I have lost my Beloved; he has abandoned me" (See Song of Songs, Chapter 3). This thought or feeling is the experience of desolation described above. To sum up, we can say that while the actual experience of the desert will be different for different people, for all of us it will mean a felt sense 6"/4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 of the absence of God. And for those of us whose faith in God is still fragile, it will frequently involve the experience of desolation (the "I have lost God" feeling). In reading the above description of spiritual dryness, one may think that it is something only experienced by monks, religious, and the ex-ceptional lay person~ Yet spiritual directors tell us that this experience is quite .common in the lives of many average, prayerful people who dis-cover somewhere in the midst of their spiritual journeys that spiritual ex-ercises that once nourished them spiritually now do nothing for them. Question 2: Why is an understanding of this dimension of prayer so important? There are at least three reasons why some understanding of spiritual dryness is important. First, if we do not know the role of the times of dryness, we may think that we have "lost God" and that our prior, positive feelings in prayer were not a gift from God but the crea-tion of our own imaginations. This frequently happens. Many people who have a genuine conversion and get all excited about prayer quit when the well runs dry. This is sad because it is now that God wants to do his real work in such persons. Second, lack of knowledge about the purpose of spiritual dryness may cause us to continue praying in a way that, at this particular stage in our spiritual journey, may be more of an obstacle than a help to our spiritual growth. Many people are unaware that at some stage in the spiritual journey God calls us to become less active in prayer so that he can be more active in our spiritual transfor-mation. Third, the experience of spiritual dryness may be something caused by ourselves or something permitted by God. When it is permit-ted by God, it is meant to purify us and bring us closer to him. Such dry-ness is a gift to be accepted and embraced. When spiritual dryness is our doing, we need to work at removing the causes of such dryness. Lack of knowledge about the nature and role of spiritual dryness may lead us to believe that a particular experience of dryness in prayer is authentic and God-given when in fact it is something brought on by our own infi-delities. So the time of spiritual dryness is a critical time in the spiritual jour-ney. How we respond to it will determine whether we move forward spiri-tually or stagnate. Question 3: Why does God permit us to experience desert peri-ods in the spiritual journey? So I will allure her 1 will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart (Ho 2:16). Spiritual Dryness / 675 God permits us to experience spiritual desert periods in order to pu-rify us of those things that hinder our spiritual transformation and to teach us some important lessons about the spiritual life and how it works. In our answer to this question we will look at some specific purifications that God works in us and lessons that he teaches us in the desert. Purifications of the Desert In the desert God will want to purify us of any excessive attachment we may have to consolation in prayer. If in prayer God blesses us with a lot of consolations (or "spiritual highs" as we often say today), there is a danger that we may seek and love "the consolations of our God more than the God of our consolations" (Saint Teresa of Avila). In time of spiritual consolation it is easy to pray. The challenge is to remain faith-ful to prayer when we experience little or no felt sense of God's pres-ence or action in our lives. During such dry periods God is asking us to love him for himself and not just for the spiritual highs or consolations he offers us in prayer. He is asking us to show that we are not just fair-weather friends but all-weather friends. And he is teaching us the im-portant lesson that he is to be found more deeply in the desert than in the garden of superficial delights. Secondly, in the desert God purifies us of spiritual vanity. John Dal-rymple explains sp!ritual vanity in this way: Someone taking to religion in all zeal, becoming caught upI in a cam-paign of prayer, fasting, spiritual reading, liturgical practice, and retreat weekends might be indulging unawares in one big ego-trip. Conversion of the soul from a worldly life to a spiritual life is at first s, uperficial only. The convert has been given new, spiritual goals; but the conver~- sion is only external. In itself the sofil is as full as it ever was of unre-generate tendencies to vanity, arrogance, acquisitiveness, the only dif-ference being that after conversion these tendencies are now attached to spiritual instead of worldly objects . The zeal of such a person is infectious, but it is, as yet, chiefly the expression of the person's vanity or self-centeredness, dressed up in Christian clothes.4 For God to do his work of spiritual transformation in us, he must pu-rify us of such spiritual vanity. God often brings about this purification in us by bringing to naught our best efforts to change ourselves and eve-rything and everyone around us. As we sit on the ruins of our self-made temples and projects, we are purified of spiritual vanity and arrogance, and we learn the meaning of spiritual poverty, which is realizing our com-plete dependence and need for God to bring about any spiritual growth 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 in others or in ourselves. In the desert, God's intention is not to punish us but to purify us. In the journey of life we consciously or unconsciously become overly-attached to persons or things--so much so that they become idols (that is, more important to us than God). This happened to Israel after she lived in the Promised Land for some time. She became so enamored with the blessings of the land that she forgot the One who gave her the land. To purify her of this idolatry God led Israel into the desert for a second time where she would be free of all her attachments and free to listen anew to the Word of God (See Hosea, Chapter 2). Lessons to Be Learned in the Desert Now let us briefly look at some of the lessons that God wishes to teach us in the desert. When God takes away consolation in prayer (that is, the felt sense of his presence), he wants to teach us the important lesson that he can be encountered at a deeper level than our emotions. He wants to teach us that we are no longer dependent on emotional returns to know we have encountered him. As we grow in our relationship with God, the more we will "learn to be at home in the dark because we are sure, in faith, that the potter is truly shaping the clay, even though the clay sees nothing of what is happening."5 An example about eating food might help to illustrate this point more clearly. Sometimes we may immensely enjoy eating a delicious meal. We may savor every morsel of the food. All in all, it is a delightful ex-perience. On another occasion we may not enjoy at all another type of delicious meal. We may not be feeling well, or the food may not appeal to us. Yet from a nutritious point of view, both meals are equally good. Our lack of enjoyment of the second meal in no way diminishes its nu-tritious value. The same principle is at work when it comes to prayer. Sometimes when we pray we really feel and savor God's presence and love. At other times the prayer is empty and dull. Who are we, though, to say that the latter time is of no benefit to our spiritual growth or is less pleasing in God's sight? A second lesson God teaches us in the desert is that spiritual conso-lation is his p.ure gift to us and not something we can earn by being good or by praying :in a particular way. In prayer God teaches us this impor-tant lesson by "dropping in" on us when we least expect him and by "failing to show" when we very much want to experience his presence. A third lesson that God wishes to teach us in the desert is that spiri- Spiritual Dryness / 677 tual growth is totally dependent on his work in us and not on anything we do. Our task is simply to be flexible and cooperative with the move-ment of his Spirit. In the spiritual life, "working at it" often means "be-ing still," "just being there" and exercising discipline over our doing and achieving self which so often wants to run the show. This is a diffi-cult lesson for us because so much of our training for the outer journey of life has told us to be "take-charge" and self-sufficient persons. It is not easy for us to switch gears in the inner journey. In the spiritual life God is the Chief Actor; we are the acted-upon. Mary, at the Annunciation (Lk 1:26-38), is our perfect model. When God mysteriously breaks into Mary's life and invites her to become the mother of Jesus, she doesn't respond, "Sure, Lord, I'll do it!" Rather, she says, "I am your maidservant; work in and through me as you want." Mary's response was, "Fiat, be it done unto me," not, "I'11 do it." This attitude is one of active receptivity, and it is the secret of Christian spirituality and spiritual growth. Active receptivity is charac-terized by the effort to place our energy, will, and freedom at the dis-posal of God so that he can do with us and in us what he wills, Finally, when God our Father allows our prayer to run dry, he is in-viting us to participate in the cross of Jesus. In times of dryness we are experiencing the thirst of Jesus on the cross. If the cross was Jesus' way to the Father, then surely we, the disciples of Jesus, cannot expect to travel the scenic route free of all pain and hardship. When we experi-ence darkness in prayer or in the marketplace, we are being invited to identify with Jesus in his suffering, in his experience of feeling aban-doned by the Father. Also in the desert we are being invited and chal-lenged to trust that our God will not abandon us but will come to rescue us and redeem us (See Exodus, Chapter 16). Question 4: How can I tell when a particular desert experience is caused by my own infidelity or is something permitted by God to help me to grow in my relationship with him? When dryness occurs in prayer, particularly in the early stages when God is giving alternating periods of dryness and consolation, wemay tend to blame ourselves for dryness. We may wonder what latest infidelity we committed to bring about this dryness. The fact may be that we have done nothing wrong . to occasion the dryness. God may be allowing us to experience the dry-ness bechuse he wants to teach us some lesson and/or purify some as-pect of our relationship with him. On the other hand, we may think the dryness is from God when in fact it is caused by our own laxity and sin-fulness. Therefore, it is important that we be able to discern the true 6711 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 cause of the dryness because our response to it will differ, depending on whether the dryness is permitted by God or is something brought on by ourselves. Let us now identify several ways that we can bring about our own spiritual desert. ( 1 ) Indifference to a Sinful Pattern of Behavior: If we are indifferent to some sinful pattern of behavior in our lives, then we can expect diffi-culty in prayer. In a human friendship a negative pattern of behavior (for example, a critical or lying spirit), which we make no effort to ,change, will have a destructive effect on the whole relationship. Likewise, if in our relationship with God, we are deliberately ignoring a sinful pattern of behavior (for example, involvement in an illicit relationship, unfor-giveness, unethical business practices), then we can rightfully expect ten-sion in our relationship with God. When we do the above, we are delib-erately excluding the Lord and his influence from some area of our lives. In such a situation we should not be surprised that we do not feel God's presence very much in prayer. Here it is important to note that I am not referring to a sinful pattern of behavior that we are trying to change and that we are bringing before the Lord in prayer. In this case we are rec-ognizing sin and struggling with it. Instead of keeping us from God, our struggle with a particular sin or weakness may be the very means that God will use to allow us to experience his love, mercy and power. (See 2 Co 12:7-10 for Paul's famous example of how his thorn in the flesh became the very means of God's power.) In the former case, we are not even confronting our sin or seeking God's help with it. Instead we are deliberately ignoring its existence or trying to rationalize its O.K. 'hess. In the latter case, our sin grieves us and we are doing what we can to remove it from our lives. (2) Repressed Anger at God: Two highly-respected spiritual direc-tors, Fathers William Connoily and William Barry, write in a co-authored book: "When prayer flattens out, or appears tO be facing an iron wall, the director must always suspect the presence of unexpressed anger."6 To add to this problem, many of us were raised in a culture where appropriate expression of anger was socially unacceptable. "Hence resentments, holding a grudge or subdued rage, when they are present, are all likely to be given other names like indifference and ra-tional analysis."7 When someone hurts us, our relationship with that per-son will diminish, even if we decide to present an affable, friendly front; but in reality we will distance Ourselves emotionally from the person. In a similar way, if we become angry with God about something, we may Spiritual Dryness / 679 continue to be faithful to our prayer time, but on an emotional level we can be fairly sure we have distanced ourselves from him. (It is impor-tant for us to be aware that if life is handing us a raw deal, we may well be unconsciously blaming God, the Source of all things, for our lousy situation.) (3) Separation of Prayer and Life: The spiritual life is all of life and not just one segment of it. The Lord refuses to be a compartmentalized God; he wants to be a part and parcel of our whole life. When we try to keep God in church or in our prayer closet and not allow him to guide all the activities of our day, we can be sure that we are setting ourselves up for dryness in prayer. If we exclude God from the activities of our day, then we should not be surprised if he is missing from our prayer time. Even on a human level, no one likes to be a "tag-along" in some-one else's life. (4) Overwork: When our prayer life dries up, it is good for us to ask if we are pushing ourselves too much on the vital and functional dimen-sions of life. "Am I overworked? Am I over-tired? Am I coming down with the flu? Am I neglecting physical exercise? Do I have a tendency to make leisure time work? Or do I have leisure time--period?" These are important questions to ask. These things affect our prayer life. If we fail to care properly for our bodies, then we are neglecting a dimension of ourselves that we depend on to help us to pray. When we are very tired and overworked, prayer may well be seen as just another duty or thing to do. (5) Lack of Honesty in Prayer: Just as shallow or dishonest sharing dulls human relationships, it also dulls the Divine-human relationship. If our prayer is no more than "sweet talk" to "sweet Jesus," we should not expect Jesu~ to be too interested in our conversation. We must learn to talk to the Lord about the real stuff in our lives. (6) Halfhearted Efforts at Prayer: On a human level two friends may fail to really connect with each other because their conversations are "just words," words that fail to express what they are truly thinking and feeling. The problem may be that deep down they don't want to or are scared to encounter each other in a deep way. When a relationship is char-acterized by this type of communication, then we should expect it to be empty and unfulfiiling. In a similar vein, when our prayer time mainly consists of the rote recitation of certain prayers or of inattentive spiritual reading--if beneath the "saying of prayers" and the acts of piety there is no real desire to encounter God and grow in relationship with him-- then we should expect little or no satisfaction in prayer. In fact, our spiri- Review for Religious, September-October 1989 tual exercises may become a substitute for a real relationship with God. If we discern that we are the cause of our spiritual dryness, we should do all we can to remove the particular obstacle. For example, if the problem or obstacle is that we are holding onto a grudge and doing nothingto let it go, then we may need to pray for forgiveness for that person and/or we may need to have an open chat with the person with whom we are having a problem. If we discern that our experience of spiri-tual dryness is due to our tendency to separate prayer and life (see ob-stacle number three above), then our solution will be to work at allow-ing the Lord to walk with us in all the activities of our day. In short, when we discern that we are the cause of the spiritual dryness, then we ought to do something to remove the obstacle. It is the experience of most, if not all, disciples of the Lord that once they begin to struggle with an obstacle, prayer again becomes alive and they experience a new closeness to God. Finally, it should be noted that in trying to discern the cause of our spiritual dryness we would be well advised to seek the coun- ¯ sel of a good spiritual director. When we experience spiritual dryness most of us have a tendency to think that it is due to some infidelity on our part. The truth may be that God is permitting us to experience the desert so that he can continue his purifying work in us. This brings us to the second part of our response to Question 4: "How might we know that it is God and not us who is calling us into a spiritual desert?" While we can never be absolutely sure--since we live by faith and not by clear vision--when spiritual dryness is being per-mitted by God, we can say that the following are good indicators that the dryness is the purifying work of God: --If during the time of dryness we remain faithful to prayer. --If our prayer is honest and flowing from the real stuff of our lives. --If we are trying to integrate prayer and life. --If we are trying to live a life of charity; if our prayer is helping us to be more loving. --If we are genuinely trying to avoid sin and live our lives accord-ing to God's Word. --If we thirst for God as we walk in the desert. (It is crucial that we, remember that our desire for God is in itself a tangible sign of his pres-ence in our lives. We couldn't even desire God if he didn't place that desire in our hearts.) You will notice that the above signs are pretty much the opposite of the ways that we ourselves bring about our own spiritual desert. Prayer, like so many other things in life, is a series of "arrivals" Spiritual Dryness and "starting points." We arrive at a point where we feel good. We ex-perience the grace of consolation. But that only lasts a little while and then a certain discontent (a kind of desert) sets in--a discontent that may be caused by ourselves or permitted by God. Then we are faced with the challenge of discerning who is causing the discontent: "Is it God or me?" The purpose of the discontent caused by him is to create in us a longing for more, to create in us a desire to move closer to God. In the spiritual journey God brings us to a particular point or state; he lets us rest there and enjoy that plateau for a little while, and then he says, "O.K. Let's move ahead and seek for more" (see Ex 40:36-37). Of course, it is not easy to move when we are not sure where he is leading us. All he says is, "Move and trust that I'll take you to a new and bet-ter place." Finally, if we are in doubt about the cause ofour discontent or dry-ness, then we should talk to a spiritual guide or, if that is not possible, simply say a prayer like this: "Lord, if this dryness I am experiencing is due to some failing of mine, please reveal it to me. Until you do I am going to assume that I am not the cause of the dryness." Question 5: What are some resources available to us to sustain us in the desert? Four resources that will sustain us in the desert are: --a wise spiritual director; --a strong faith; --fidelity to prayer; --the support of fellow pilgrims. Our first help is a wise spiritual director. By wise I mean one who understands the role of the desert in the spiritual life and hopefully one who has experienced and grown through the desert in his or her own spiri-tual journey. Many people whom God led into the desert for purifica-tion have suffered much at the hands of well-intentioned but misinformed spiritual guides. Saint John of the Cross reserves some of his harshest words for such misinformed guides.8 For example, a misinformed guide may insist that a directee continue to meditate and do a lot of spiritual reading when God is calling her to the prayer of contemplation. In the desert a good spiritual director will be a source of guidance, encourage-ment and inspiration. When we are in a spiritual desert, it is important that we learn to place our trust in a good spiritual director. But, as most of us know, wise spiritual directors are nearly as scarce as palm trees in the northern states of America. The truth is that the road to authenticity is dangerous, hard, and narrow, and few decide to travel it. In the ab-sence of a wise spiritual director (and there is really no substitute for such Review for Religious, .September-October 1989 a person), one may receive some guidance from books that are written or recommended by people who are recognized guides of the inner jour-ney. A second important resource is a strong faith--a faith that enables US" --to believe that God knows what he is doing when he allows us to ex-perience the desert (Rm 11:33-36); --to believe that in the desert God is not punishing us but is purifying us (Dt 30:6); --to believe that God grows his best flowers (virtues) in the desert (Ho 2); --to believe that God works in us while we rest in him (Mk 4:26-29); --to believe that in the struggles of life God is on our side fighting our battles (Ex 14:13-14 and Dt 1:30-33); --to believe that in the desert God's seeming absence is just a different type of presence, one that we may not as yet have recognized (Ex 16); --to be secure with insecurity (Rm 8:28); --above all, to generously abandon ourselves to the purifying work of God (Lk 23:46). A third important resource as we struggle in the desert is fidelity to prayer. In the desert, prayer is usually dry and therefore all the more dif-ficult to remain faithful to. When it comes to praying in the desert, spiri-tual guides counsel us to avoid two extremes or temptations. The first temptation is to quit prayer, thinking that our best efforts are leading us nowhere. The second temptation is to "junk up" our prayer time with extra prayers, rosaries, Scripture reading, and so forth, thinking that if we only try harder maybe we will feel the presence of God. This second temptation needs to be resisted not only because it blocks what God is about in the desert but also because it is (usually unconsciously) our at-tempt to stay in or get back into the driver's seat. In general, prayer in the desert will become much less active, more passive--less us, more God. The challenge will be to learn to sit quietly in the presence of God, trusting that he is at work in us while we rest in him. Le~.rning to "waste time doi.ng nothing" in prayer is, without a doubt, one of the most difficult lessons we have to learn in the school of prayer. Unfortunately, most of us never learn to waste time gracefully in the presence of God. Such a practice goes completely against our west-ern, work-ethic nature that is usually driven to do, to achieve, and to pro-duce-- that likes to see tangible results for its efforts. Because of this need in us, most of us fill the vacuum that we feel in the desert with read- Spiritual Dryness ing or prayers of some sort. For those of us who are willing to try and do less (that is, to be less active) in prayer so that God may do more in us, the following suggestions might be helpful. -Spend some time just "being there" with the Lord, aware that as "we rest in him he is at work in us." We put aside all effort to achieve because now we are learning that achievement (growth) is God's work. By periodically spending some time "doing nothing" in the presence of the Lord, we are expressing our faith in an important spiritual dictum: "God's activity in prayer is more important than my activity." -Spend some time slowly repeating prayers like: "Incline my heart to your will, O Lord." "Make me want you, O Lord, more than anyone/ thing in my life." -Take a phrase of Scripture like "You are my beloved Son" and dwell on it. -Simply take one word like "Jesus" or "love" and repeat it gent-ly and slowly, letting God work in us, leading us beyond conceptual thoughts, images, or feelings to wordless depths. -Image and be present to Mary in the Temple after she lost Jesus (Lk 2:41-50) and at the foot of the cross (Jn 19:25-27) which must have been a real dark night of the spirit for her. Ask Mary to intercede for you so that you may have something of the faith which she had when she thought she had lost Jesus. -Finally, you may want to read something on spiritual dryness. By simply reading and rereading portions of a book like When the Well Runs Dry, I am encouraged to persevere in the desert. Personally, I need to hear over and over again the teaching and encouragement that a book like Father Green's offers. In prayer our role is to be faithful in coming aside, to be at God's disposal. What actually happens in prayer is God's business. For me this piece of wisdom has always been very consoling. It helped to free me from thinking that it was up to me to make things happen in prayer. Now I am more relaxed, knowing that my role is to be faithful in coming aside, to do what I can to eliminate distractions from within and with-out, and to pray as I feel led. ("Pray as you can, not as you can't.") The rest is in God's hands. If he chooses to bless me with a deep sense of his presence, I am indeed very grateful. If he chooses to bless me with his seeming absence (God is always only seemingly absent), then I try to be grateful for that, also believing that God knows what will best help me to grow. "Our prayer is good when our hearts are fixed on God, even if it is filled with boring aridity or passionate turmoil.' ,9 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 A fourth resource in the desert is the prayer and personal support of fellow pilgrims. While each person's inner journey is very personal and unique, still we can learn much from the journeys of co-pilgrims. Only the foolish try to travel the inner jou~rney alone. In the desert we are all beggars sharing morsels of bread with each other. Also, if we are blessed enough to be a part of a small, faith---sharing group, then we have avail-able to us an excellent resourc_~e for the dry times. In the dry times the prayers of'fellow pilgrims are usually a big help. I wbuld like to conclude our discussion on spiritual dryness with a prayer that I have found to be a source of great encouragement during times of spiritual desolation. Dear Lord, in the midst of much inner turmoil and restlessness, there is a consoling thought: maybe you are working in me in a way I cannot yet feel, experience, or understand. My mind is not able to concentrate on you, my heart is not able to remain centered, and it seems as if you are absent and have left me alone. But in faith I cling to you. I believe that your Spirit reaches deeper and further than my mind or heart, and that profound movements are not the first to be noticed. Therefore, Lord, I promise I will not run away, not give up, not stop praying, even when it all seems useless, pointless, and a waste of time and effort. I want to let you know that I love you even though | do not feel loved by you, and that I hope in you even though I often experi-ence despair. Let this be a little dying I can do with you and for you as a way of experiencing some solidarity with the millions in this world who suffer far more than I do. Amen.~° NOTES ~ See Thomas H. Green, S. J., Weeds Among the Wheat (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1984), Chapters 6 and 7. Also see Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 92. 2 Some other Psalms that reflect darkness in the prayer of the psalmist are Psalms 60, 69, 74, and 88. 3 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 69. '~ lbid, p. 93. 5 Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 119. 6 Fathers William Barry. and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York, 1982), p. 73. 7 Ibid. 8 Saint John of the Cross, The Collected Works of John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C., 1979), pp. 620-634. 9 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer, (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 66. ~0 Henri J. M. Nouwen, A Cry for Mercy: Prayers from the Genesee (Garden City, New York, 1983), p. 102. That God Might Be Father .Laurel M. O'Neal Sister Laurel O'Neal, a solitary (hermit), is familiar to our readers. Her address is Stillsong Hermitage; 80 Lafayette Circle; Lafayette, California 94549. Perhaps the only question more problematic than that of the possibility of prayer is the question of its, genuine significance and necessity. Sur-prisingly, however, this is also a question we generally fail to consider explicitly or face squarely. More typically, the meaningfulness and re-quisiteness of our prayer are matters we tend to take for granted, even though the notion of prayer may lie at the heart of important or even fun-damental expressi6ns of self-understanding and definition. But the ques-tion is an important one, and one we cannot easily afford to avoid or care-lessly dismiss, if we intend to take prayer seriously or maintain a proper sense of its place and role in our daily lives. After all, why really are we called to pray? What, if anything, is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer? Is there any reason to regard our own personal prayer as a matter of compelling urgency and real ne-cessity, or is the matter really more nugatory? Clearly, as Christians we are called to believe that our prayer is a meaningful, even indispensable activity, vital to the transformation and healing of all we know, and the realization of all we are made and hope for. But how do we justify such a belief? What is it about prayer that makes such claims credible? The answers to all of these questions are based in our recognition that in prayer something deeper and even more fundamental is at stake, some-thing in which all healing and human growth in wisdom and sanctity are rooted, and upon which all our hope depends. Like Christianity in general, and like God himself, prayer is pro-foundly paradoxical, and this is particularly true of the question at hand. 685 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Although we must acknowledge that prayer is the gift and activity of God attended to by sinners (that is, by persons whose lives are fundamentally marked and marred by fragmentation and alienation), we must also af-firm that the deeper truth is the paradox that prayer is primarily some-thing we undertake on God's own behalf, insofar as prayer is the experi-ence of God as the One he wishes to be for us. Quite simply, what is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer, at each and every moment we pray, is nothing less than the life and destiny of God himself. As Chris-tians, as persons who pray--that is, as persons who share as heirs of God in the obedient Sonship of Jesus Christ, we do so primarily that God might truly be the Father he has willed to be from the beginning. This insight is easy to lose sight of, something that occurs particu-larly whenever God's paradoxical nature is obscured or forgotten, and an immutable or even (as commonly misunderstood) "triune" God is substituted for a Living One. Most of us are well aware that on the one hand, our God is the "High and Holy One," the one who reveals him-self in sovereignty and self-sufficiency. Indeed he is Yahweh, "the one who will be who (he) will be," ~ in absolute authority and awesome auton-omy. But this dominant Old Testament image is just one side of the para-dox whom we Christians know as God; and if on the one hand he is the High and Holy One who is absolutely self-sufficient, he is also the one who has determined not to remain so, but rather has resolved to make his own destiny subject to the responsiveness of his creation. Our God is on the one hand without beginning or end, absolutely self-sufficient, in need of no one and no thing. Yet on the other hand he has willed from all eternity not to remain alone but to turn to another--a person who will be his counterpart. He is the eternal decision to speak to this other and to hearken to the word which this other speaks. He is the eternal deci-sion to love this other and to accept this other's love. [The God of the New Testament] who is eternally self-sufficient wills not to be; God who is eternally of and for himself wills to be for another.2 This means quite simply that God has determined to be for us as well as dependent upon us. We must allow this determination to be realized, and let God be who he wills to be for us. This is indeed the most human thing we can do, just as it is the most loving. Those who truly appreci-ate that our own destiny is dependent upon the proper exercise of human freedom should not be surprised that God too is dependent upon it. In fact, we should be aware that the Christ event reveals that it is human freedom which is the true counterpart to divine omnipotence. For many, this will be an astounding assertion. However, if we reflect on precisely That God Might Be Father / 687 what occurred in the Christ event, perhaps this critical point will become more acceptable to most people. Certainly such reflection is necessary if we are to truly appreciate the importance and urgency of our prayer. It is true that in the Christ event--in the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus--God drew near to every moment and mood of his creation. This is truth but the truth cuts far more deeply than even this awesome reality. In the Christ event something absolutely s'ingular and unsurpassable occurred. For the first time in human history someone, in this case Jesus of Nazareth, in living a life wholly responsive to the God who would be Father, accomplished two things. In the first place, he lived the first genuinely human existence ever known in the history of humankind, and secondly, in his proper exercise of true human freedom he allowed God to become the Father he had willed to be from the be-ginhing. In the dialogue which existed between Father and Son, both hu-man and divine life reached a fullness for which they had yearned and groaned through time and eternity, the realization of human and divine destinies were forever linked, and divine omnipotence and human free-dom were inextricably wed as counterparts of one another. Nor is this all. In Jesus' resurrection from the dead, this abundant life was made a continuing and unconquerable reality in our world. It is in prayer that we enter most deeply into participation into this abundant life, and in prayer that Jesus' Sonship becomes our own and the Fatherhood of God is further realize~t. Through our participation in the Sonship of Jesus, we come to know genuine human life, and we become aware that it is a life characterized and constituted by an ongoing and all-consuming dialogue with the Fa-ther, who is in turn constituted as Father in this dialogue. In the Christ event Jesus responded to God as Son. He allowed God to be the author of his life, and he allowed God to be authored as Father in the process. Truly human existence is nothing less and nothing other than daughter-ship or sonship to the Living God whose own inner truth and dynamism is realized in Fatherhood. Prayer is simply and always the mutual out-working of these inextricably linked divine and human destinies. God is Father neither before, nor apart from, the response of Jesus as Son; neither is he our Father apart from our participation in that de-finitive Sonship which we call prayer. (Note well, in all of this it is im-portant that, according to the prologue to John's gospel, we are very clear that it is not the Logos that is Son; rather it is Jesus as Son in whom the Logos is incarnate. The two realities are quite different, and are often tragically confused. As the term is commonly but perhaps naively used, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 the Logos is "preexistent"; the Son is not, and whenever this confu-sion occurs, it becomes impossible to appreciate the true significance of the obedient Sonship of Jesus or of our own prayer.) Although he is the one "who will be who (he) will be," the God of the New Testament turns to the world as the one who would be Father, that is, as one who would find his counterpart and true completion in those who would turn in response as daughters and sons (that is, as those who are of him and from him) and, as one whose deepest identity would remain unrealized and unrealizable apart from this response. What are the implications of all this for our prayer? In the first place, we must concede that our prayer has real meaning and urgency, not only and not even primarily because we are saved through God's activity in our lives, but because in our prayer we concern ourselves with the very life of God. Whether or not prayer is a profound experience for Is, it is a significant experience for God since it is in prayer that he is allowed to achieve Fatherhood and truly realize himself. Whatever we perceive happening or not happening in our prayer, we must not lose sight of the fact of what does occur there. In prayer God is given the chance to love fully, and thus to fully be. It is not simply the'case that God is love; it is also true that in loving, God is (and it is this fact which allows us to speak of prayer in terms of the glorification or magnification of God). Prayer is possible only to the extent that our God has willed not to remain remote, that is, only to the extent that he has drawn near. But prayer is meaningful and necessary for the most part because the God who has refused to remain remote has also willed not to remain self-sufficient and has, in a very real way put his own destinyinto the hand of those to whom he would be Father, and whom he has thus willed re-spond to him as daughters and sons. Without our prayer, God remains the High and Holy One who has drawn near to us in all of life's moments and moods, but who remains deprived of real presence, and thus whose deepest will and identity remains unrealized and frustrated in our regard. It is particularly telling that the first word and entire Lord's Prayer is contained in the invocation "Father." Jesus' whole life and prayer, which were essentially synonymous, were devoted to allowing God's will to Fatherhood to be accomplished. Claiming this realization of the Fatherhood of God is the heart of all prayer. Allowing him to love us in the way he wills is the heart of all truly human activity. It is impor-tant that our prayer remain the God-centered activity it is meant to be. This is the reason Jesus gave his life and his way of praying as a "para-digm of perspective," and in fact, in what is most essentially and pro- That God Might Be Father 689 foundly the lesson of the New Testament, taught his followers to pray. We lose proper perspective if we forget that God has drawn near, but it is at least as tragic to forget that prayer is the way nearness is transformed into real presence. We said in an earlier essay3 that prayer begins, ends, and is sustained by our concern for and commitment to the life of God. Let us remember why we are present to him and what our appreciation of his nearness means for him, and may this knowledge sustain us in even the driest of moments. NOTES t The usual translation of "Yahweh" in Exodus 3:14 as "I am who am," or even the more cryptic "'I am" is inadequate insofar as it disregards the dynamic element, and promise of active and effective presence also contained in the Hebrew (see Ex 3:12). A better translation is "I will be who I will be". 2 Dwyer, John C., Son of Man attd Son of God, A New Language For Faith, (New York: Paulist Press, 1983). 3 O'Neal, Laurel M., "Prayer, Maintaining a Human Experience": R~.vl~.w R~.~.~¢~ous; Nov/Dec 1987, p. 883. Musing Fragile as a crisp autumn leaf, Hard as flint on flint, Soft as nestling down, Resilient as blue tempered steel-- You and I--this planet ours-- Cradled in God's tender arms Of Grace. Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 Mary of Bethany-- The Silent Contemplative Carlos M. de Melo, S.J. Father Carlos de Melo, S.J. is professor emeritus of Canon Law and Spiritual The-ology at the Pontfical Athenaeum of Pune, India. His address is Papal Seminary; Nagar Road; Ramwadi; Pune 411 014 India. Teresa of Avila, that incomparable mistress of the spiritual life--"Mater spiritualium" as she is called in the inscription at the foot of her statue at St. Peter's, Rome--was never tired of repeating to her daughters of the Reformed Carmel that prayer is not so much a matter of much think-ing as of loving much.~ The soul of prayer is faith and love. Going through the gospels ! found this basic truth or principle beautifully illus-trated in the attitudes of Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, vis-~t-vis our Lord. Bethany is a small hamlet about three kilometers southeast of Jerusa-lem, separated from the capital by the Mount of Olives. Mary of Bethany appears in five places in the gospel narratives: I) Luke 10:38-42; 2) John 11 : 1-53; 3) John ! 2: i - l l ; 4) Mark 14:3-9; and 5) Matthew 26:6-13. The last three references cover one and the same episode, that of the supper at Bethany, in the house of Simon, the "leper." True, the material is not over abundant, yet it is sufficient enough to give us a fair idea of the personality, the mind and heart, the ways and attitudes, the character of this well-known biblical figure. However, I wish to bring out in this es-say one particular trait that distinguishes her, and that is her contempla-tive attitude of life, as it comes across to us in a striking manner in two of those passages--Luke i0 and Matthew 26 (see Jn 12; Mk 14). Symbol of Contemplative . Indeed, in these passages, Mary stands out before us as a symbol and 690 Mary of Bethany / 69"1 teacher of the contemplative life particularly inspiring and helpful to per-sons "consecrated to God," whether they live in convents and monas-teries or elsewhere in the world. She thus becomes our guide, silent yet sure, to a simple, intimate relationship with our divine Master, such as will not only bring us true fulfillment but can even radically transform our life. For, as the saying goes, tell me with whom you walk and I shall tell you what sort of a person you are. When did Mary first meet Jesus? In Luke 10 the new Rabbi figures as an already familiar guest in the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, one whom they all highly esteemed, loved and revered, a dear friend whose visits were eagerly looked forward to and whom they welcomed with undisguised joy and profound satisfaction, as though they could never have enough of him. From him they held no secrets; they could share with him their every thought or sentiment, every joy or sorrow, and in him they were always sure to meet, in any life situation, under-standing, sympathy, guidance. First Meeting Decisive True, the gospels do not tell us when it was that Mary first met Je-sus. One thing, however, seems to be certain. Whatever might have been the time, place or occasion, that first meeiing was decisive in Mary's life; it made a lasting and ineffaceable impression on her youthful, sensitive nature. It reminds us of another such decisive encounter narrated in an-other gospel--that of the Master with the beloved disciple (Jn 1:35-39)-- one of those unforgettable events that make an impact for good and give a new turn to life. Like that of John, Mary's life, too, was deeply touched by her meeting with Jesus, for, from then on, that mysterious guest became as it were everything for her, the center of her thoughts, sentiments, deeds. It was as though interiorly taught from on high, Mary sensed in Jesus of Nazareth not only a new rabbi, or a great religious leader who taught as one having authority (Mt 7:29), who spoke as no man ever did (Jn 7:4-6), or even a worthy prophet like Moses, Isaias or Jeremias of old, but--in a way she herself was not able fully to under-stand or explain--the very incarnation of the Father of Israel, of Yah-weh himself, and at the same time, her own personal friend and guide-- her 'guruji' we might say, with all this term, and the reality it represents, means in Indian life and tradition. This explains Mary's unconditional surrender to him, her loving contemplation of him, her total openness and docility to his word, her silent "adoration"--attitudes proper to a creature before its God, its divine Lover. 692 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Lovable Character Mary is a lovable character--lovable because she is so
Issue 48.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1989. ; Ministry and Ministries On Becoming An Apostolic °Hermit Mid-Life Divorce And Alienation The Readmission of Former Members Volume 48 Number 2 March/April 1989 Revn~w t:or Rt~LIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Soi:icty of Jesus; Editorial Office; 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428: St. Louis. MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail. add U,S. $5.00 per year: for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~v~w t:oR Rt~t.~GOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth. MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:v~:w ~'o~ R~:t.t~no~s; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor "~"~ Contributing Editor ~% ~,~,¢~ Assistant Editors °"'~ March/April 1989 Volume 48 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspundence with the editor should be sent to R~:\'~:w ~'o~ R~:~.t~aot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; SI. [a~uis, MO 63108-3393. Cnrrespondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~'on R~:t.~aot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues 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 Io the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Computers easily make available various readouts of statistical in-formation. While I was perusing the printout listings of our January- February 1989 issue, 1 began, to realize how much I take for granted the exchange of information in our contemporary world. This international exchange of information through a journal like REVIEW FOR REL~C~OtJS pro-vides one of the most valuable prisms which exist for expanding our worldview and our unders.tanding of religious life. I want to share with you a few of the statistics about the interriational readership. First, I should call attention to the fact that REVIEW has sub-scribers in all fifty states, the District of Columbia, and the U.S. territo-ries, such as Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, Guam, American Samoa, the North Mariana Islands, and the Canal Zone. Roughly this grouping takes in about sixty per cent of our subscription list. Our readers are also from all ten provinces of Canada, including the Yukon and the North-west Territories. Subscribers are also present throughout Mexico, six countries of Central America, ten countries of South America, and throughout the West Indies. REWEff FOR REt.~C~OUS has large numbers of subscribers in the English-speaking countries of Europe, such as England, Ireland, Northern Ire-. land, Scotland, and Wales. But its readership is spread throughout Aus-tria, Belgium, Denmark, France, Italy, Malta, Netherlands, Norway, Po-land, Portugal, Switzerland, Spain, Sweden, and West Germany. The subscription lists are large for India, the Philippines, Australia, and New Zealand, with a widespread distribution throughout the coun-tries. Africa, too, is well-represented, with subscribers from some twenty-two countries, such as Republic of Ivory Coast, Egypt, Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya, Lesotho, South Africa, Liberia~ Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Uganda, Zambia, Sudan, Tanzania, Swaziland, Sierra Leone, Malawi, Cameroun, and Mauritania. REVIEW also serves readers in Indonesia, Bangladesh, Thailand, Ma-laysia, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Israel, Jordan, Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Sin-gapore, and Hong Kong. As editor, I think that I may want to take a win-ter trip to visit our subscribers from Fiji, Papua New Guinea, Gilbert Is-lands, Solomon Islands, and Western Samoa. These listings do not exhaust all the places R~:w~:w FOR reaches, but perhaps this kind of enumeration can give all of us a greater 161 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 appreciation of the catholicity of the articles we read and the religious life we try better to understand and live. Of course, this international dimension is reflected in the authors who submit manuscripts and in the content matter of the articles submit-ted. For example, in this issue, Father Donald Macdonald, writing from England, reflects upon the situation of Church members in some com-munist- dominated countries of Eastern Europe. Brother Martin O'Reilly shares with us his vocation director's experience, working in Liberia and Sierra Leone in Africa. Father Robert Maloney calls our attention to an impressive lay-movement of young people who serve the poor in Italy. Reverend Paul Casper, who first went to Burma as missionary in 1952 and later served as the first American Dean of St. John's Cathedral in Hong Kong from 1982-1986, reflects on the influence of his fellow An-glican, C.S. Lewis, upon his experience of spiritual direction. As editor, I want to continue to welcome readers and writers from all over the world. REVIEW FOR RELigiOUS will continue to be enriched by the .reflections of people who come from different community, mission, and cultural life-experiences. Through this journal, we are being given a new window--varied prisms--upon our world and upon our religious iives.~ David L. Fleming, S.J. Ministry and Ministries John R. Sheets, S.J. Father John Sheets, S.J. is well known to our readers. His last article, "Spiritual Direction in the Church," appeared in the issue of July/August, 1987. Father Sheets may be addressed at Creighton University; California at 24th Street; Omaha, Ne-braska 68178. In the remarks which follow, I try to distinguish two related but radically different forms of ministry: that which is primordial, the ministry of pres-ence, and that which is functional, activities, some of which are institu-tionalized, others not, which serve to constitute and build up the Church. The ministry of presence is overlooked today. When people speak of ministry they tend to speak only of functional ministry, various ac-tivities which in one way or another build up the Church. However, they forget that the functional ministry is always built on and presupposes a primordial, or deeper form of ministry, the ministry of presence. Though it is risky to use masculine-feminine analogies today, I think that those who can bypass the loaded nature of such language, and re-gain a certain direct vision of those realities, without the prejudices of our times, can spontaneously recognize in the ministry of presence quali-ties which are feminine, and in the mini~stry of function, masculine char-acteristics. I do not mean, of course, that functional ministries belong only to men, and not to women, or that men cannot exercise qualities of presence. The distinction is aimed at calling attention to two related but different modalities of ministry: a mode of being in and with, which is presence; and a mode of being for, which is function. We live in an age which is centrifugal. The self is caught in a kind of cyclotron that empties the inner self as it pours itself into more and more things to do. For this reason in the remarks which follow there is an attempt to recapture the primordial ministry of presence, which alone 163 164 / Review for Religious,. March-April 1989 can vitalize, energize, the ministries of function. In a sense it is an at-tempt to see how the feminine principle of presence lies beneath all other activ.ities within the Church, providing the presence of the Spirit, who alone breathes life into those activities which are ordinarily called min-istry. Without the presence of the breath of the Spirit, ministry in the sense of activity is like those dry bones Ezekiel describes (Ezk 37), strewn about in a valley, lifeless skeletons that have a faint resemblance to a living person. Hans Urs von Balthasar in Elucidations (London: S.P.C.K., 1975, p. 70) describes what I have just spoken of as a kind of "masculiniza-tion" of the Church. "The Church since the Council has to a large ex-tent put off its mystical characteristics. It has become a Church of per-manent conversations, organizations, advisory commissions, congresses, synods, commissions, academies, parties, pressure groups, functions, structures and restructurings, sociological experiments, statistics; that is to say, more than ever a male Church . " General Reflections on the Meaning of Ministry Before going into some specifics in regard to ministry, I would like to give a working description of ministry that will include everything pre-sented in this article about various ways of speaking of ministry. Most of the time discussions on ministry begin with a description of various activities in the Church that are exercised for the good of others, either as individuals or as :a community. This approach is a valid one. But it also tends to play into models which belong to other forms of hu-man activity for the good of any society, not specifically the society we call the Church. Hence, it is possible that, without realizing it, what is secretly at work in discussion of ministry are models coming from hu-man social structures, such as civil society, instead of those that respect the uniqueness of the ministries that belong to the Church. One has to see Christian. ministry in terms of the complete newness of the forms of activity that the Christian calls ministry. The Church, on the other hand, does not exist only as a heavenly city coming downfrom above. It exists in the world in interaction with other societies. It also has similarities with other societies, especially the state, But the danger is to lose sight of the uniqueness of Christian ministry, and to reduce it to secular models. I want to speak of Christian ministry, then, by beginning from a slightly different perspective than is customary. Ordinarily discussion of ministry begins by talking about different activities in the Church as they are exercised by different members. But it might be more helpful to ap- Ministry and Ministries / 165 proach ministry in a reverse direction. Ministries come from awareness of needs that have to be taken care of within the Church. Ministries are always a response to specific kinds of needs. Ministries in the Church then are those activities which are generated within the Church in re-sponse to the needs of the community. In somewhat the same way, all "secular ministries," such as schools, hospitals, civil authority have to be understood primarily as response to needs within the community. There are no ministries that are simply there, self-evident, self-explanatory. Ministries.exist only because they are called forth as a re-sponse to certain needs. They are essentially relative then to the need that calls them forth. They come, go, remain as the needs either remain or come and go. Their importance ranges from fulfilling needs which are essential to the existence of the Church (for example, the ministry of holy ordi~rs), to those which are i, mportant for'its well-being, but not essen-tial tbqts very existence. This,is true both forthe secular notion of ministry, as well as the ec-clesial. But the needs in each case are radically different. Hence, the re-sponse, or the ministry will be radically different. To understand minis-try, then, one has, so to speak, to work backwards, from need to re-sponse. The respbnse in turn depends upon the particular gift, whether of grace or nature, to respond to the need. St. Paul always sees the gifts of ministry in this sense, as Spirit-evoked responses to community needs. Ministry t.hen is called forth by the particular needs of the organiza-tion as social whether the social body is sec.ular or religious. Some of these needs are practically identified.with the continued existence and Well-functioning of the.body; for example, in the state, different levels of auihority are 'called forth from the need to preserve the society so that it keeps its identity and reaches its goals. The importance of the minis-try varies. Its importance is relative to the nature of the need that has to be taken care of. But our question is concernedowith the society called the Church, not secular societies. Ministry in the Church is the Spirit-created response to the unique needs of the new kind of society' that came into the world-through the institutiofi' of Christ and the outpouring of the Spirit at Pen-tecost. The basic needs.to be responded to are those to which Jesus him-self responded. The Church exists only to carry out what Jesus intended in his life and redemptive death. The deepest need of humankind, then, is the.need for redemption. This is the need that Jesus came to fulfill. He had no other purpose. All ministries in the Church are relative to the one basic need, the need for redemption. "166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The primary ministry in the Church, then, is that which he commu-nicated to his,,apostles. He breathed into them his own mission or his own ministry. " 'As the Father sent me, so I send you.' He then breathed on them saying, 'Receive the.Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone's sins, they stand forgiven; if you pronounce them unforgiven, unforgiven th.ey remain' " (Jn 20:21-23). He creates a correlation between his ministry which comes from the Father, and the mission of the apostles, which comes from Jesus. They are to minister to the fundamental need of hu-mankind, reconciliation with God and with one. another. Thus th+ fundamental ministry of the Church which is poured into the Church is to respond to a need at the heart of the whole of humanity and even of the universe itself. If this ministry fails, then the mission of Ctiiist is aborted. The raw fundamental need of humankind remains un-touched. "We are still in our.sins" (see 1 Co 15:17). Within that fun-damental ministry, which makes die mission of Christ present, ,there are other subordinate ministries, each of them in one way or another a par-ticipation in the fundamental response to the need for redemption. All forms of ministry in the Church, therefore, are responses to the radical need of humankind, the need f+r redemption. They are not self-actuated responses like those belonging to other socie.ties. They are di-rectly evoked and sustained by the Spirit ~vhose intention is to carry out in the Church what he initiated in the life and death of Christ. St. Paul uses a striking metaphor to bring out ministry as response to need. He calls himself a debtor to everyone. What he owes them is the Gospel. This is the Spirit-evoked gift to answer the radical need in the human heart. M6re than health, money, food, or anything else, the radical need is for Christ. "I am in debt to Greek and to non-Greek, to learned and Simple" (Rm i : 14). The Need for the Presence of Christ: Ministry as a Mode of Being Present As I mentioned in the beginning, it i~ important at the outset to dis-tinguish, ministry according to two different modalities: (a) ministry as presence,, which is a mode of being-with, what I called above, the pri-mordial form of ministry, and (b) ministry as partiizular activities which are ways of doing that flow from being-for others. The latter has to do with activities which flow from and presuppose ministry in the first sense. Most often when people talk about ministry they refer only to doing something. They forget that ministry as we find it in the Church is situ-ated within what is deeper, the mystery of an existence that has been trans- Ministry and Ministries / 167 formed through grace. This transformed existence brings a new mode of presence into the world. I spoke above of ministry as the Spirit-created response to need. The great absence, and therefore, the deepest need, is that of the absence of God in the hearts of individuals and society. The first mode of "minis-try" then is not some particular kind of activity. Rather it is a mode of presence that penetrates a person's whole being. It is a kind of "glory," or radiance that end/elopes a person's whole life. It cannot be located within any one particular kind of activity. "We all reflect as in a mirror the glory of the Lord" (1 Co 3:18). Like a mirror, Christian existence reflects tothe world the presence of Christ. This is the primary mode of ministry. This "presence" or glory comes from the fact that, as Paul says, we are a "new creation." "When anyone is united to Christ, there is a new creation; the old order has gone, and a new order has already be-gun" (2 Co 5:17). He tells the Christians that in the midst of an evil world they are to "shine like stars in a dark world, and proffer the word of life" (Ph 2:13). All of Paul's exhortations about what to do as Chris-tians flow as corollaries from the mystery of their transformed existence as a new creation. The images that Jesus uses to describe the primary ministry of the Christian do not concern specific activities. He calls the Christian salt, light, leaven for the world. The Christian's pri(nary ministry to the world, then, is not some particular activity, but a kind of epiphany of the presence of the New Creation. The most fundamental ministry then is to live the Christian life in its fullness. It is a doing that is identified with their very being. How they live flows from who they are. Very sim-ply it is the call to be holy. It helps us understand this primary form of ministry if we reflect on the fact that all Christian ministry receives its meaning insofar as it takes on the.pattern of Christ's ministry. In Christ, we see the perfect expres-sion of "ministry." All that he does flows from who he is. The myste-rious interaction of Jesus with everyone came.from an awareness of a pres-ence in him Which eluded all categories and particular activities. Similarly his primary activity in the Church is not through specific ministries, for example, orders,.charisms, and so forth. It is the fullness of his presence filling the whole Church. "He put everything in subjec-tion beneath his feet, and appointed him as supreme head to the Church, which is his body and as such holds within it the fullness of him who himself receives the entire fullness of God" (Ep 1:22-23). "Be assured. Review for Religious, March-April 1989 I amowith you always, to the end of time" (Mt 28:20). At center of all particular ministries in the Church, then, is the mystery ~f presence. Christ's own ministry is the Si~irit-evoked response to the most radi-cal needs of humankind redemption, salvation, atonement. "I have a ba, ptism wherewith I am to be baptized, and how I am straitened until it be accomplished" (Lk, 12:50). His fundamental ministry then is to re-veal the Father's love. This love is not only an affective, but also an ef-fective love. The Father shows his love through the redemptive gift of his Son. Hence, the mode of being of Christ is a redemptive mode of being. He is from the beginning the? ',Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world." His ministry then is identified with his whole being. No matter what he says or does, it is always the expression of his gift of himself: "This is my body given for you. This is my blood poured out for you." Christ's presence then is a special mode of presence: a re-demptive presence. All particular activities flow from his pervasive pres-ence as the Suffering Servant. The Church itself has only one primary ministry. It is the sacrament of the presence of Christ. It exists only to bring to the world what Christ accomplished through his ministry, to bring.~the world in touch with the mystery of Christ. All of the various particular ministries in the Church, ways of doing, flow from the primary ministry which is a mode of being present. Similarly, the primary mimstry of the Christian is that of pres-ence where God is absent, to be light in the darkness, leaven in a dead world, salt in a world which has lost its savor. The failure to recognize the primary ministry as that of presence has led to many ambiguities, in discussion of ministry today. One gets the im-pression that greater participation in ministry is only (or mainly) being able to participate in many activities which were closed to a person up to the present. But in reality the primary ministry is to respond by pres-ence to what is absence, or anti-presence. This has always been the pri-mary ministry of the saints, canonized and uncanonized. The m.inistry of presence creates an atmosphere that is broader, deeper, more pene-trating, both stronger and more delicate, and more effective while it is more self-effacing than what is brought about by particular ministries. Yet it has to be admitted that this primary notion of ministry is often neglected~ The activistic mentality that pervades our society sees minis-try mainly as involvement in more activities, o~ in activities associated with one form of ministry, that of Orders. But the ministry of presence is not a matter of this ministry or that. It takes in a whole constellation of activities that identify the New Creation. Th.ey are not so much spe- Ministry and Ministries cific activities as Christian modes of being. St. Paul describes this min-istry Of presence as the harvest of the Spirit: "lbve, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness and self-control" (Ga 5:22). The ministry of presence, then, takes in all of those activities which are gr0upe~d under the names of the spiritual and corporal works of mercyL''When I was hungry., thirsty., a stranger., naked. ill . in prison" (Mt 25:31f). In particular, it takes on Christ's minis-try as the Suffering Servant. "I have set you an example: you are to do as I have done for you. In truth I tell you, a servant is not greater than his master, nor a messenger than the one who sent him" (Jn 13:!5-16). As Paul says, "Let your bearing toward one another arise out of your life in Christ" (Ph 2:5). All of these activities belong to the Christian qua Christian, not to the Christian as having a particular form of ministry. They are insepara-ble from the Christian identity itself. These activities form the primary ministry of,the Christian. I have spoken, then, of ministry as the Spirit-evoked response to needs. The primary ministry is the response to the need for the presence of Christ through the Christian in the world which still needs to be touched by the redemption. This is the ministry that flows from the pres-ence of the New Creation. Presence in torn is not one or other specific activity. It is a kind of epiphany that shows itself in the constellation of activities that irradiates from the New Creation. Ministry on this foundational level is related to specific forms of min-istry as the atmosphere is to thir~gs that breathe. The specific forms of ministry are lifeless unless they live out of this atmosphere that identi-fies the Neff Creation. Yet it has to be. admitted that popular ways of speal(ing of particular ministries in the Church isolate them from their roots in the primary form of ministry, which is a mode of being present as the New Creature to the Church and to the world. It is on the level of the ministry of presence that really important but unheralded ministry takes place in the Church. It is that which belongs to states of life, such as, for example, marriage. The "ministry" of ¯ mother or father is not this or that particular activity. It is a mode of lov-ing presence that creates a kind of a cosmos of relationships which we call the family. Others, for example, a baby sitter, can carry out particu-lar activities that a mother or father also do. But it is only when such particular activities are rfianifestation of the mystery of presence, the mys-tery of motherhood and fatherhood, that such activities create the mys-tery that we call the family. 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The Catholic lay person, like every other Christian, exercises the min-istry of presence. This presence obviously comes to the fore in ways of acting that are spe~:ifically Christian. But those particular activities have their power because they are witness to a presence that makes Christ pre-sent in the whole of one"s life. The p~resence is that of the New Crea-tion, in a quiet hut powerful way emitting signals that show the 'presence of Christ in the secular world. They are like beacohs of light sending rays out into the night, both illumining the darkness an~! attracting people to the light of Christ. Particular Ministries in the Church Finally, after this long buildup, we come to the place where most people usually begin discussions about ministry. They mean particular activities in the Church directed to building up the Church that have ec-clesial recognition. "Above we spoke mainly of ministry as the manifold group of activi-ties that flow from the new mod~ of being which St. Paul calls the New Creation. They are not activities in the same sense as the particularized m~nistries. In the particularized ministries one does something to accom-plish something else. But in the foundational ministry one is not "'do-ing" one thing to accomplish something else. Rather it is a ministry of transforming presence. "To crown all, there must be love to bind all to-gether and complete the whole" (Col 3: 14). "'I may dole out all I pos-sess, or even give my body to be burnt, but if I have no love, I am none the better" (1 Co 13:3). Ministry as a particular activity ~n the.Church presupposes and lives off the foundational ministry which is presence, the presence of the Holy Spirit in individuals making them the New Creation: The Holy Spirit, then, draws individuals into the love of Christ by givingthem gifts to respond to particular needs in the Church. St. Paul's description of.min-istry always presupposes the presence of the Holy Spirit in the individ-ual not simply as an individual but as a member of the Church. Gifts are given to individuals to enable them to fulfill a need within the Church. Presupposing, then, the fundamental ministry of presence, St. Paul speaks of various ministries which the Holy Spirit calls forth to respond to various needs. While each is izalled to the primary ministry of radiat-ing the presence of Christ to the whole (the fundamenthl ministry), there are particular functional-roles within the community called forth to re-spond to a whole range of different needs, some more essential than oth-ers. Paul describes some of these. "And these were his gif!s: some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teach- Ministry and Ministries / .17"1 ers, to the building up of the Body of Christ" (Ep 4:1 !-13). "Now you are Christ's body; but each of you is a different part of it. In the Church, God has given the first place to apostles, the second to prophets, the third to teachers. " (1 Co 12:18f). However, the primary ministry, the ministry of presence, with love as its animating principle, should animate all the particular ministries. "Be ambitious for the higher gifts. And I am going to show you a way that is better than any of them" (1 Co 12:31-13:1). Then he goes on to describe the ministry of all ministries, the mystery of love as the primary "ministry" to which we should aim. Ministries on this level have to do with the whole social unit, the whole Church. They reorientate a person's whole existence to take on a specific kind of relativity,from Chr.ist,for the Church. This reorienta-tion is such that it modifies in a new way the person's Christian iden-tity. There are three modes in which the presence of the New Creation is radicalized in an individual: the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, and holy orders. Theologically the term "character" describes what St. Paul calls the metamorphosis, the change in the inner structure of a per-son's life (2 Co 3:18). This is the radical reorientation of a person's whole being, first of all, through baptism to become the New Creation, to respond to one's own radical need--the need-for redemption; then, through confirmation which takes presence to a new dimension, orien-tating the baptized person to the needs of the whole Church; then, through holy orders which radicalizes in a person Christ's own gift-presence, making a person "steward of the mysteries of God" (I Co 4:1), a person whose presence is to draw forth the New Creation. The traditional theological term, "character," then, describes three modes of the presence of Christ in the New Creation. Flowing from these modes of presence are different kinds of activity. I have commented briefly above on the mode of presence that comes through baptism and confirmation. These are modes of presence and ac-tivity which belong to all Christians by virtue of their baptism and con-firmation. It is what is specifically called the mini~stry of the laity. Within that mode of presence there are many kinds of activities, as, for exam-ple, that which belongs to those who are married, or to those engaged in secular occupations in the world. I shall comment briefly on the kind of presen.ce that belongs to the priest. It has two sides. The priest mediates to the Church and the world the presence of Christ. On the other side, the priest draws the whole of Review for Religious, March-April 1989 the Church into the presence of Christ. Like John the Baptist the priest is to introduce the Bride to the Bridegroom, and the Bridegroom to the Bride. Priestly ministry has a.single purpose: to bring about the New Crea-tion- to nourish, sustain, and guide the New Creation by word and sac-rament. All of priestly activity then is some form of transubstantiation, that is, to change the old reality into the new. The priest's whole being is to transform the world by touching it with the redemptive event of Christ. The priest lives from Christ, for the Churchl' But at the heart of all ministries in the Church is the radicalization that takes place through baptism which brings into being the New Crea-tion. Confirmation and orders have their roots in the new mode of pres-ence of Christ in the individual and the Church through baptism. Con-firmation draws out another aspect of the giftedness of the New Crea-tion, that is, the apostolic dimension to "let your light shine before oth-ers . " Orders is a gift of the Spirit presupposing baptism which em-powers individuals to draw forth from the "old creation" the New Crea-tion, through word and sacrament, and to direct the community in the ways to live out the implications of the New Creation. Problems Associated With Ministry St. Paul describes ministries as the work of the Holy Spirit in call-ing responses from within the New Creation to particular needs within the Church. The images he uses always suggest harmonics or coordina-tion. In a sense, the Holy Spirit is like a conductor calling .forth from each individual player in the symphony that which leads to the harmon-ics of the whole piece of music. One of St. Paul's favorite images to bring out the .sense of harmonics of ministries is that of the body, where the whole exists for each part, and each part exists for every other part, as well as for the whole. "There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord, working in all sorts of different people; it is the same God who is working in all of them" (1 Co 12:if). The words "same Spirit," or the "one Spirit" oc-cur about ten times in the passage to show that ministry is a Spirit-evoked response to different needs. The same emphasis is found in Ephe-sians 4: If. "Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit. , there is one Body, one Spirit . . . one Lord, one faith~ one baptism, one God." It is interesting that Paul's extensive description of the interplay of the gifts of the Holy Spirit for the good of the whole Church is found mainly in a community where there was the greatest.disharmony, the Ministry and Ministries / "17'3 Church at Corinth. He is therefore calling attention to a special kind of sin, the obstruction of the power of the Holy Spirit in the very persons who are called to build up the body of Christ. But the situation at Corinth does point to what have always been three problems with ministry in the Church: (1) the failure to see minis-try as the Spirit-evoked response to different needs within the Church; (2) the failure to see that each ministry has its meaning not in itself, but only insofar as the foundational ministry of presence animates it; (3) the adaptation of the uniqueness of Christian ministry to secular models. I shall comment on these briefly. (1) The problems in the Corinthian community that turned the sym-phonic movements of the Holy Spirit into groups of warring factions have always been part of the sinfulness of the Church. Basically it is the problem of what in Jungian psychology is called the "persona," the pub-lic image a person seeks before the eyes of others. The symphonic na-ture of ministry becomes discordant when one's attention turns from the ministry in itself to an awareness of the public image associated with dif-ferent ministries. The attention then is not on what the Holy Spirit is do-ing through one's ministry, but on the way ttiat one's own glory appears before others. Some even felt they got a better public image by the fact that they were baptized by a person associated with such an image-creating personality, for example, the eloquent and gifted evangelist, Apollos, in contrast to someone like Paul who apparently did not pro-ject such an image. (2) The second problem which has plagued the Church in her past history, as well as at the present, is tile dissociation of the ministry of doing from the primary ministry of being or of presence. For this reason Paul insists that though the Corinthian Community exercise all of the other ministries, even to the point of giving all they have to the poor, or giving their bodies to be. burnt, yet if they are isolated from th~ min-istry of presence, of being, that is love, (hen all activities are like activi-ties of a corpse. There might be much activity, very busy people, but it does not carry the life-giving power of the Spirit. It is dead. The lack of holiness in those who are supposedly the New Creation has been the biggest obstacle to the work of the Spi.rit during the whole of the history of the Church. (3) The third problem, related to the first two, comes from a failure to recognize the uniqueness of ministry in the Church. Ministry in the Church is a reversal of all notions of service that we find in societies that owe their existence to some natural cause, for example, the state or the 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 family. In these societies, a person enters at a certain level, then makes every effort to move to the top, with increase of salary, prestige, power, and the expansion of the "public image" as one works to the top. In the process, whoever is above is a threat because the one above stands in the way. Those who are below are looked on as inferior. Judgments about the importance of different "ministries" are always made accord-ing to the ladder\of the upward-bound movement and then more specifi-cally to what rung of the ladder one is on. This problem has always been with the Church. It was practically im-possible for the apostles to put this new wine into old wineskins. They argued who was the most important. Then Jesus taught them, "If any-one wants to be first, he must make himself last of all and the servant of all" (Mk 9:35). The sons of Zebedee asked Jesus, " 'Grant us the right to sit in state with you, one at your right and the other at your left.' Jesus said to them, 'You do not understand what you are ask!ng. Can you drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism I am to be baptized with?' " Jesus tells them that if he as master and Lord has washed their feet, then they should wash one another's feet. This is a symbolic way of describing Christian ministry. Paul says, "Rivalry and personal vanity should have no place among you, but you should hum-bly reckon others better than yourselves" (Ph 2:3). I am sure there are many other problems that have to do with minis-try today. Some are organizational problems, others from many of the feminist questions. The ones I mentioned above are attitudinal. They have always been with us, and are with us today. They can be at work also in other problems such as organizational or the feminist issues. I can-not imagine people agitating for a job which, for example, would mean that they would take a salary cut, pay more taxes, have longer hou.rs, and work anonymously. The Christian notion of ministry~ is even more out-landish than that. Ministry and Religious Life In his Apostolic Exhortation on the religious life, The Gift of Redemp-tion (March 25, 1984), Pope John Paul II presents what is probably the most profound theology of religious life that has ever been thought out. He roots religious consecration in the New Creation that comes into be-ing through baptism. Religio6s life then has its primary ministry in what we spoke of above as the ministry of presence. It is foundational to all other particular forms of ministry. But the presence that forms the fundamental ministry of religious life takes on a particular paschal duality. It is to image forth the life of Jesus Ministry and Ministries as the Suffering Servant. It exists to show forth the duality that belongs to Christ's own paschal mystery. The paschal duality means that one and the same reality has two related aspects: the cross (sacrifice) and the res-urrection (the New Creation). The vowed life of the religious, then, is to bring into the world a particular modality of paschal presence. That is the fundamental ministry: the ministry of the paschal presence. But there are particular ministries which religious congregations ex-ercise for the good of the Church and society. When we look at the his-tory of the Church in our own country, these ministries are numerous. Some of the majors ones are education, hospitals, orphanages, care for the elderly, but there are many others, including the contemplative life of intercession for the Church. Other forms of particular ministries have emerged over the last twenty-five years. But it is the foundational ministry above all which must activate all particular ministries. To quote Pope John Paul: "It is precisely this wit-ness of love that the world today and all humanity need. They need this witness to the Redemption as this is imprinted upon the profession of the evangelical counsels" (no. 14). "From this witness of spousal love for Christ, through which the entire salvific truth of the Gospel becomes par-ticularly visible, there comes., as something proper to your vocation, a sharing in the Church's apostolate, in her universal mission . . ." (no. 15). He goes on to speak of the particular apostolates. Then, "And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are ex-tremely important, nevertheless the truly fundamental work of the apos-tolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in the Church. Of each one of you can be repeated, with special appropriate-ness, these words of Saint Paul: 'For you have died and your life is hid with Christ in God' " (no. 15). Conclusion Questions about ministry are very much with us today. Many of these questions were brought up in the recent synod on the laity. But the end results did not bring much clarification. Perhaps the most positive result was to bring an awareness of the need for a theology of ministry that relates ecclesiology, pneumatology, grace, sacraments, and voca-tion. I am sure that the synod wa~ an important step along the way to clarification. As the history of the theology and development of doctrine show, clarification of issues that touch the life of the Church very pro-foundly is a long process. .What I have tried to do above could be summed up as follows: (I) since ministry belongs to a unique reality, namely, the Church, which "176 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 is, so to speak, held together 'from above,' through the Holy Spirit, min-istry in the Church is unique, and cannot be reduced to service as~we find it in any human society; (2) ministry is not self-initiated but originated by the Holy Spirit in order to respond to needs, some of which are con-stitutive of the Church, for example, sacrament of orders, and others which depend on historical, sociological factors; (3) the primordial min-istry is that of presence, which cannot be limited to presence of the Spirit "because God's love has flooded our inmost heart through the Holy Spirit he has given us" (Rm 5:5); (4) particular ministries address par-ticul~ ir needs within the Church or the w.ay the Church interfaces with the world; (5) three main problems were singled out: (a) the use of min-istry to glorify oneself; (b) the shift from primacy of presence ("the more excellent way" which Paul describes as love) to a primacy of par-ticular ministries; (c) the subtle adaptation of the gospel paradoxes about ministry ("Then if I, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you ought also to wash one another's feet" (Jn 13:14) to promotional mod-els taken from secular societies; (6) finally, I spoke of the particular min-istry of religious, whether active or contemplative: it is the ministry of a special mode of presence, a kenotic presence, which translates the words of Jesus, "this is my body given up for you . . . blood poured out for you" into the three evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, obe-dience, creating a paschal presence which animates all particular minis-tries. Come and See: An Experiment in Vocation Discernment in Africa Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C. Brother Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C., does vocation counseling work in Liberia and Si-erra Leone. His address is Christian Brothers; P.O. Box,297; Monrovia, Liberia. ~lln unkind joke, certainly thought up with post-Vatican II religious life in mind, asks: how do you join a small religious congregation? Answer: join a big one and wait. It is, however, a joke that would not be under-stood in many parts of the Church, particularly in Africa. Let me explain. Between 1975 and 1985 the number of local priests rose in West Africa by a staggering 630%; local sisters increased by 280% and'brothers by 340% (Statistics compiled from L'Englise Catholique en Afrique, edited by Pere Perraud, Pontifical Missionary Union, France, 1987). T.he prob-lem for many seminaries and religious communities in the younger. churches is not so much trying to attract candidates, but to find ways in which to sort out the wheat from the chaff. This article will focus on the ways in which vocation counselors can effectively carry out their ministry in situations where the large numbers applying for entrance to religious communities, the newness of the ,~o-cation to many people, and the particular backgrounds of the applicants make it difficult to accurately assess the. seriousness of an application. If the postulancy is to really be a preparatory period for entry into the. novitiate, and not simply a sorting out of suitable candidates from the unsuitable, then there is need for some kind of system of deselection prior to that. A method for doing so is what is proposed here. It is the result of my own involvement over these past five years in vocation coun-seling in Liberia and Sierra Leone. 177 "17~1 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 The Game Plan ~ Perhaps the best way to begin is by saying how I don't carry out my ministry: I don't advertise; I don't give talks in schools or churches; I don't have a telephone; I don't have my own means of transport; and I am not fulltime on the job. I prefer, rather, to spend a couple of weeks, five or six times a year on the road, covering some 3,000 miles or so, visiting those who have contacted me. I stay with them in their town or village, and meet their family and friends. Just as an ordinary friendship grows, so does mine with .those who have expressed interest in the life of a Brother. Through the people who have invited me to visit their homes, I have met others who want to know more about the religious vocation. Many people have joined our community through a friend or relative introducing them to me. Since b~ginning in my ministry in 1982 I have developed a network of contacts that r.uns into the hundreds. When my relationship with an applicant has developed past a cer-tain point, I then invite him to "come and see" where 1 live. I invite him to spend ten weeks with myself and the community. Apart from help-ing with his transport costs, he has to arrange his own travel documents and come under his own steam--just as any person would have to do, were he or she to travel and visit a friend in a far-off place. The idea behind the ten-week vocation discernment program is for candidates and the community to experience each other for a sufficient length of time, allowing both parties to get to know each other, and to see if they are compatible and willing to grow together in community, prayer, and service. :Who Is Invited? ~ There are fivemarkers I would look foi in a person suitable for ac-ceptance into the pre-postula.ncy program (I am presuming that an appli-cant is baptized and confirmed as a Catholic, has reasonable references and is in good health): (I) An applicant must have shown evidence of being able to commit him-self to a group within the Church (for example, The Legion of Mary, St. Vincent de Paul, Y.C.S., or a prayer group) for a substantial period of time. Simply "attending Mass'? regularly is not enough evidence of a commitment to the Church within the African context. (2) An applicant must have "nets to leave behind." The economic con-dition of many of the countries in West Africa is such that the vocation . of a priest or a religious can be a very attractive proposition. It offers a person security and status, to say nothing of sanctity! Those straight Come and See / "179 from school are not usually in a position to have ~proved their compe-tence in the art of living and providing for themselves. With few excep-tions school-leavers have the added problem of not seeing entrance to a religious community as anything more than pursuing "further stud-ies." Those who apply, and have no job, I advise to look elsewhere. (3) The family of an applicant must be able to understand what decision a young person is making in asking to join a religious community. There has to be some significant member of the family, not necessarily a par-ent, who supports his intention. The applicant, for his part, must explain to the family that all he is trying to do is to "find God's will." If he finds out that it is not God's intention forhim to be a religious, then he should tell them that he will return home a wiser person; but if it is, then he must explain thathe will be returning to join the community as a pos-tulant with, hopefully, the understanding and support of his family. (4) An applicant has to be able to see that there are difficulties for him in asking to join a religious community. His ability to talk of his'fears about the demands of a celibate life are as good an indicator as any of the degree of his seriousness. If he cannot see this as a tremendous chal-lenge, then I tell him that he probably has not thought enough about the vocation. (5) With regard to the intellectual ability of an applicant, it is essential that he be capable of tertiary education. A person's particular paper quali-fications do not always reflect his academic ability, so it is not appro-priate to apply the same rules for entry to everyone. A candidate should certainly have finished his secondary school education and not beqook-ing to resit exams at a later date. If I am unsure as to the suitability of a person applying for the pro-gram, I will give him the benefit of the doubt; but when it comes to en-try into the° six months postulancy, and I am s.t!ll unsure of his suitabil-ity, I give the benefit of the doubt to the community and ask him to look elsewhere for his vocation. The Rationale Behind The Program The pre-postulancy program, as outlined here, is conceived of as an extension of the vocation counselor work, .rather than the beginning of religious formation. Those selected for the prograrfi--never more than twelve--are fully aware of the temporary nature of the experience, and understand that at the end of the program they may, or may not, be in-vited to apply for admission to the postulancy program. For most of those entering the program, this will be their first expe-rience of living in a multi-cultural environment. Great care, therefore, 180 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 is taken to make our candidates feel at home--if not, then they will prob-ably wish they were at home.! We have found that candidates, at this stage of the life in a religious community, prefer to share rooms and need ample opportunity for settling in ,and' being themselves. It goes without saying that the personnel involved in directing the program are comfort-able living with young people and are prepared to trust them. I have found that for a pre-postulancy program to work well, there must be a group of candidates with a specified program to follow. Sim-ply inviting young Africans to come and live with a religious commu-nity and to occupy themselves with some form of pastoral work is not a sufficient basis for helping them understand the meaning of religious life. Candidates need clear guidelines so as to help them negotiate the difficulties in living in a structured environment with others from differ-ent backgrounds and cultures. Growth in appreciation of the meaning of religious life will take place when candidates begin to experience the com-munity as sufficiently safe and supportive so that they can be themselves. However a person presents himself prior to joining the community, he cannot maintain a pretense for long when invited to participate in a strong community experience. Candidates, also, can be so concerned with try-ing to match our real or imagined expectations of them that they find it difficult not to think of themselves as playing the lead part in a drama scripted by others. As far as is possible I make the agenda of our daily living together the responsibility of all and try to foster a sense of ac-countability among them, a sense that "we are in this together." For people to encounter themselves, others, and God in a real way there has to be a ring of authenticity about the experience. I am espe-cially interested in exploring with those invited to join the program their notions about themselves, talents as well as weaknesses; the ways in which they handle questions relating to anger and misunderstanding~ sexu-ality and intimacy, and obligations towards family members--as well as the ways in which they enjoy praying. Matters spe(ifically related to the meaning of the vocation to the religious life, I leave for later on in the p6stulancy. Hopefully, as a result of this approach candidates come to build up their identity as members of the community and as people of prayer on more than the superficial foundations of rules and ritual. Sometimes formators can be afraid to get close to c.andidates, pre-ferring to treat them in h remote fashion. This is, 1 feel, wholly unac-ceptable within a cultural climate where tactile contact and verbal com-munication are so important.~Shaking hands, giving hugs and passing the time of day together are as natural to Africa as the sunshine. Most of Come and See 181 those applying to join us have encountered a good deal of opposition from their friends and family. They need to know from the outset that they are really welcome into the community, not simply for who they might become, (that is religious brothers), but for who.they actually are. That is not to say that there is no room for tough love, but simply that the most effective direction will be given by the formator who is capa-ble of sharing his or her affection for the candidates in concrete ways. A crucial element in thesuccess of the "Come and See" program has been the close presence of professed religious, actively involved in the mission of the congregation, and a novitiate community prepared to welcome candidates, albeit for only ten weeks, into the religious fam-ily. Both professed members and novices have provided a tangible ex-pression of the ideal and the possibility of becoming a religious candi-date. The director of the program is also supported by this in the com-plex business of evaluating applicants to the postulancy. Counseling and helping people discern their vocation is very much, at this stage, a group experience. The value of regular or weekly com-munity meetings, with the opportunity of bringing into the open any is-sue of concern to individuals or the group, cannot be overestimated. If something important to one or more of the candidates is being intention-ally avoided by the community, then nothing of importance will be ta~ked about either. Our weekly sessions start with a review of the pre-vious week and points arising from the reading of the community jour-nal take up the first part of the meeting. I have known that part of the meeting to go on for two hours. The principle of dialogue in Africa seems to be "to talk until you agree"! The length of the program--ten weeks--is long enough for both the candidates and the community to come to have a fair idea of one another, and yet short enough for a person to feel as though he has not burnt his boats by leaving home to enter into a religious community. Having a ter-mination point after ten weeks, instead of say six months, lessens the .chances of early drop-outs and an accompanying lowering of morale 'within the group. It also makes candidates feel free to reevaluate their own decision in the light of their experience of religious life and leave without recriminations, should they feel that such a life is not for them. Conclusion In the five years that the Brothers' Formation Center has been in op-eration in Gbarnga, Liberia, forty-two candidates have completed the "Come and See" program. To date, we have eight postulants, four nov-ices and ten junior professed. Most of those who have left us did so at 1~19 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 the end of the pre-postulancy program, and left in good spirits. Those who entered the postulancy, and have stayed with the community, say thai the important thing about the pre-postulancy program was that it was religious life "small, small" and hence made them able to realize the importance of being themselves within a culture (religious life) vastly dif-ferent from the 6he they were used to. They were more able to relax and relate to the idea of becoming religious once they knew that they were accepted for who they were; and not who they might become. If those who enter the postulancy do so with some semblance of realism in terms of themselves, and the firm knowledge that "it. is indeed good when brothers dwell as one," then there is a reasonable chance that they can give themselves fully to the significant step of embarking upon the path of becoming members of the Congregation, and I as vocation counselor will have don~ my job. Assessing The "Moral Integrity" Of Candidates For Religious Life Charles Shelton, S.J. Father Charles Shelton, S.J., has a doctorate in clinica! psychology and is currently an Assistant Professor of psychology at Regis College in Denver, Colorado. A more detailed understanding of this theory of conscience is presented in his most recent book, Morality and the Adolescent: A Pastoral Psychology Approach. New York: Crossroad, 1989. His address is Regis College; 3539 West 50th Avenue; Denver, Colorado 8022 I. Over the past twenty years, it is safe to state that the application process for entering reli~ious life has radically changed. Gone are the days when a simple behavioral observation of the candidate's religious practice or the encouraging word of a religious who knows the candidate suffices for entrance. Instead, the application process for most orders and insti-tutes focuses on a thor~ough social history, detailed interviews, psycho-logical evaluations, and an overview of the candidate's sp!ritual life. Sur-prisingly, little has been written regarding one crucial aspect of the ap-plication process--that of the candidate's moral integrity. This article ad-dresses this issue by offering a theoretical yet practical view of the can-didate's capacity for moral growth. The linchpin which holds together the candidate's vocational aspirations with his or her moral integrity is "conscience." Accordingly, we will provide a model of conscience and suggest a practic,al approach which will be of use to vocation directors and interviewers of candidates. The thesis of this article is that the "moral integrity" of a candidate is a crucial area of assessment and that a perspective which utilizes an integrative understanding of conscience offers the best way for providing a thorough examination of the candi-date's capacity for living the moral life. 183 11~4 / Review for Religious,~ March-~April 1989 ,The Moral Life of the Candidate Perhaps one reason that little has been written about the candidate's moral life is that one simply "assumes" that anyone wishing to enter priestly ministry or a religious congregation possesses an upright moral character. Although understandable, such a position remains question-able. Any vocation director can readily provide stories about candidates who express interest .in religious life, many of whom are ill-suited for psychological reasons, as well as at times "moral" reasons, for proceed-ing with the application process. The question of the candidate's moral integrity, however, has taken on new significance over the past two decades. Several reasons can be offered why serious examination needs to be given in this area. First, many candidates seeking to enter religious life today are ~lder. This be-ing the case, the backgrounds and experience of the candidates provide an often admirable, yet at times puzzling, array of experiences. Many involved in the candidate selection process at times wonder what has re-ally gone on in the life history of the candidate. Secondly~ the psycho-logical nature of candidates often admits to a complex personality struc-ture which is threaded with a variety of motives and psychological ex-periences, not all of which are compatible with the demands of the re-ligious community.For example, I was once presented with a situation about a candidat~ to a diocesan seminary. The candid.at~e had. admitted to several questionable behaviors but now contended that a conversion experienc6 had resolved these issues. Since I did not know the candidate, I refused to offer an opinion regarding his suitability. I did suggest, though, that given the behaviors in question careful scrutiny must be given this person's motives. The capacity for rationalization is virtually limitless. Thirdly, the complexity of today's ministerial roles and struc-tures necessitates a well-developed and well-defined moral conscience Which allows flexibility, sustains insight, and fosters behaviOr~ which are~ healthy and which nurture moral integrity. The recent scandals surround~ ing sexual acting out among priests and religious necessitate a.well-integrated conscience which assists a person in reflecting 6n his or her own vocational commitment. All in all, conscience remains the single most vital human mechanism for assisting an individual's living of dis-cipleship. As a consequence, it becomes important to offer a view'of con- ~Cience that is'integrative and best captures the human desire to live the life of Christian discipleship. As a clinical psyChologiSt my own view is that for conscience to make sense it must be intimately rooted within the very human experience of life; indeed, conscience must arise from The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates / 185. the very depths of human experience as it responds to the self-commu-nicating presence of God's offer of grace. This perspective allows the very moral integrity of the person to be encapsulate~l within the reality of h.~uman life and surface in the very depths of human personhood. Ac-cordingly, I think that conscience is best explained as the decision for other-centered value in the concrete decision of everyday life. That is, conscience serves as the capacity to appropriate more and more the Chris-tian dynamic of love in the existential reality ot~ one's life. It is the one force .within life that serves to break through deceit and self-deception and challenges one to strive for a more authentic living of discipleship. In order to see this clearly, I would like to offer a model of con-science that incorporates seven dimensions. My thesis is that only an ex-amination of these seven features will allow a more complete and thor-ough understanding of a'person's capacity for moral int'egrity. As a way to assist the application process of candidates, I will offer specific com-ments and questions that are applicable for a candidate seeking to enter religious life. Through an eva, luation of these seven dimensions, a more adequate sense of the candidate's moral integrity can be ascertained.~ Evaluating for Moral Integrity Within a model of conscience, the following seven dimensions should be considered. Adaptive Psychic Energy. We are what we focus on and experience. Stated another way, what we give attention to offers insight into the type of person that we are. Psychic energy is required for all human endeav-ors. Indeed, perceptions, thoughts, emotions, attachments, and behav-iors ~all rely upon an adequate investment of psychic energy. At the same time, psychic energy is itself limited. One has only so much energy to invest. Thus, to tend to certain tasks and goals precludes, by necessity, investment in other ventures. Developmentally, psychic energy is best utilized in the successful resolution of developmental tasks. Applicants seeking to enter religious life require careful scrutiny of both their level of identity formation as well as their capacity for intimacy. Most likely, individuals who are without a sense of healthy identity or a balanced and mature sense of the demands, ambiguities, and feelings associated with intimacy are susceptible to the pull of a pervasive dependency or the un-due influence of others (or environmental situations) which deflect needed psychic energy for spiritual growth. Moral growth is most apt to take place when one can bring to one's evolving and (increasingly. con-solidated) ethical self the accumulated wisdom derived from a felt (yet evolving) sense of "who I am" and the felt attachment (yet continual 186 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 self-discovery) that "I am loved and I do love." Some needed questions to consider in this regard include: To what extent does this ~:andidate know who he or sh~ is? How influenced is this candidate by his or her own needs or by the influence of others? With what degi'ee of self-awareness can the candidate speak of a sense of self-definitioh? Does there exist appropriate intimacy experiences in this per-son's life (or for yoUn(er candidates, the maturing capacity for inti-macy)? Has this candidate's sense of identity and intimacy allowed for greater self-awareness that is capable of dealing with increasing ambi-guity and the com, pl~xities of adult (and religious) life? Defensive Psychic Functioning. Healthy growth is dependent upon adap-tive psychic functioning which incorporates mature defense mechanisms. Defense mechanisms are psychic operations whose function is to allay anxiety and.p~rovide a more flexible and adal~table resPonse to reality. Healthy defenses include sublimation, a flexible and resourceful sense of humor, role flexibility, s~ppression's"(the conscious contro~l of im-pulses), and altruism. Needless to say, the living in community and the demands of the chaste life require wide use of these defenses in order that the religious might integrate and deal with sexual and aggressive urges. Community life, the constant demands of the apostolic life, and the need to continually appropriate the ideals of the vowed life require an adaptable and flexible approach to others. On the other hand, there exist a' wide variety of defense mechanisms which are apt to prove un-healthy for living and which in turn stunt moral growth. These include: projection (the attributing of unacceptable feelings to others); externali-zation (the blaming of one's difficulties on others); acting out (the ac-ceding to impulses); rationalization (the making of excuses); stereotyp-ing (theorefusal to allow and accept differences); and compartmentaliza-tion (the excluding of one area of life from self-examination). A classic example of this last defense is the person who lives a credible life as a religiousin most areas of life, yet refuses to look at one area such as sex-ual acting out. As the candidate becomes less able to marshal mature defenses, the inevitable result is a limit of self-knowledge and of reflective self-awareness needed for interior examination. Naturally, this form of lim-ited psychological functioning is bound to impact on the discerning of choices or a balanced and realistic reflection on personal life issues. Some pertinent questions are: Does the candidate rationalize'? exter-nalize? project? and so forth. What does personal responsibility mean for this candidate? How comfortable is the candidate with his or. her ira- The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates pulses? How does the candidate sublimate? How does the candidate deal with ambiguity? To what extent is creativity possible for this candidate? Empathy. Conscience is not only rational reflection; it includes emotional investment and attachment. Empathy best exemplifies this emotional ex-pression since it points to the capacity to bond and show sensitivity to others. Normally, empathic expression is not an issue for religious. How-ever, there exist several areas for scrutiny. Does the candidate overem-pathize? The person who cannot maintain healthy identity boundaries is apt to lose objectivity. Further, when empathizing how does the candi-date deal and integrate his or her empathic stirrings? How self-aware is he or she of emotional distress which arises from pastoral situations which often elicit intense internal feelings? This issue is critically im-portant because burnout (an ever present problem for members of caring professions such as those in religiousolife tend to be) often results from continual exposure of the self to empathic distress (experiencing the pain and hurt of others in pastoral situations) which, over time, wears down the religious both physically and emotionally. This burnout in turn less-ens the capacity for reflection, healthy objectivity, and discerning choice. Self~esteem. Adequate self-esteem is indispensable for maturation. S;~lf-esteem refers to a felt sense of inner goodness and a sense of self-competence. There are several ways self-esteem relates to the candidate's level of moral integrity. First, without a healthy sense Of Self-esteem, a person is psychologically limited in the capacity to admit personal fault and the seeking of forgiveness. Lack of self-esteem leads invariably to over-compensating behavior and desires for control; or, conversely, there exists denial~ of responsibility or rationalizations. Without self-esteem the religious who hurts a fellow community member is disinclined to view himself or herself as bearing responsibility for the hurtful action. An equally problematic behavior that is likely to surface from lack of self-esteem is over-dependency on the behaviors and thoughts of others. In other words, the religious who lacks a felt sense of "inner goodness" is vulnerable to being overly influenced by another. Consequently, such "neediness" is likely to evoke blindness regarding personal action and the rationalization of specific behaviors. Several questions come to mind that could be integrated into an as-sessment of the candidate. First, does the candidate genuinely "like" himself or herself? Is the candidate capable of independent and mature judgment which is open to input and guidance from others? At the same time, are there indications that this candidate is overly dependent on ob- Review for Religious, March-April 1989 taining a good impression from or the approval of others? Guilt. Feelfngs of guilt exact a tremendous toll on the psyche. They can be'the source of debilitation leading to weakened self-esteem, depres-sion, a sense of personal devaluation, and compensating behaviors which often take on a compulsive quality. Still, there is a vital, indeed neces-sary role for guilt in moral development. Healthy guilt serves as a vital linchpin'in orienting one to awareness of personal transgressions and the need for forgiveness. Furthermore, such guilt' experiences induce a re-sponse that is caring and sensitive to the concerns of others. Admittedly, the experience of guilt is one of the most difficult psychological tight-ropes to walk. If experienced too intensely, its effects can be crippling. On the other hand, to deny the experience of guilt deprives the self of' a naturally occurring psychic experience whose function nourishes increas-ing sensitivity and altruistic responding. My own impression is that many religious downplay the vital role that guilt exercisesin the experience of forgiveness, I suspect this is most likely due to many religious' own back-ground and difficult time with guilt feelings. Several questions are pertinent. How. has the candidate dealt with moral transgressions in his or her own life? Can he or she discuss them? Is there a sense of openness and also a healthy distance from these past experiences? What has the candidate learned from these experiences? Is the candidate still reacting to them? How does,the candidate speak of his. current limitatiohs? How does the ~candidate believe that he or she needs further growth? Note here the view of growth from a sense of positive integration as opposed to a compulsive sense of goals to be accom-plished. Idealization. The role of idealization is vital for the development of a healthy moral sell It is within our capacity for 'idealization that the can-didate 'is able to construct a view of the order or congregation and the personal desire"to enter religious life. Idealization speaks of dreams, hopes, desires and what the ca.ndidate wishes to become. It implies a mold~ ing process of gradual evolvement which is shaped from images and hopes yet to be realized. Idealizations indicate the quality of one's emo-tional investment and the underlying values to which the moral self is committed. Several questions are pertinent.~,How realistic is the candidate's view of self? religious life? It is to be expected th~at the view of both self and the order/congregation might be somewhat distorted; and the issue b'(- comes how open 'is the candidate to having his or her idealizations rfiodi-fled? A further question refers to the capacity of the candidate to deal The "Moral Integrity" of Candidates with disillusionment. Since idealizations are so valued, the failure of them to occur or be implemented can lead to tremendous hurt and an-ger. Behaviors emanating from such perceived slights and disappoint-ments include acting out, cynicism, passive-aggressive behavior, ration-alizations. In other words, the negative affect resulting from disil-lusionment can cloud healthy moral reflection and an authentic living of the vows. Teleology. A final dimension of the well-integrated conscience is a re-flective sense of purposive meaning. A teleological perspective is sim-ply one's capacity for rational reflection which provides reasons ("that for the sake of which") why one's behavior is carried out. Candidates to religious orders and congregations, of course, are capable of reasoned and reflective behaviors. The issue here is more the "style" of one's telic inclinations rather than the content of the reasoning. In other words, most people could give reasoned responses for their behaviors. The key for mature functioning, and most certainly for moral functioning, is the motivation behind such reflection. Tendencies to be observed include the following: Does the reasoning of this candidate contain a healthy per-sonal investment? Is there an emotional investment in his reasons? Con-victions are most apt to be lived out when they contain a mature blend-ing of reasoned reflection and emotional commitment. On the other hand, does the candidate isolate affect? Does he or she appear to sepa-rate reasons from the emotions which such content would naturally elicit? For example, a candidate who would,speak of a particularly disturbing experience in a cold and very intellectualized way might well not be aware of underlying emotional dynamics. On the other hand, the candi-date whose rationales are continually interspersed with an impulsive qual-ity or tinged with emotionally laden content might be too absorbed in de-veiopm+ ntal issues or underlying dynamic processes to offer healthy dis-tance and the requisite discerning that is needed for moral decision mak-ing. Conclusion This article has underscored the significance of exploring the moral integrity of applicants in any overall assessment of candidates. It is ar-gued that moral development is not simply a process of doing right or wrong. Rather, growth in the moral life is a complex event best exem-plified as an integrative process emanating within the rooted experiences of human living. In the assessment process itself, an exploration of the candidate's past life history is imperative. Equally important, though, is assessing some quality of the candidate's capacity for moral growth. This 190 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 article argues that optimum moral growth for the candidate is most apt to take place when the following qualities are present: appropriate work-ing through of developmental issues, a realistic and adaptive view of self and others, a caring sensitivity, the capacity for admitting wrong, a healthy sense.of self-esteem, aspiring ideals that are realistic, and reflec-tive reasoning. Though no assessment procedure can accurately predict a candidate's ability to live consistently the moral life, it is well worth the efforts of those involved in the formation process to address every candidate's capacity for moral integrity. An Easter Prayer Love's force is stron.ger than the pull of dark: It can level mountains, raise the dead To a new life, and strengthen weary feet To walk on waters, piled rough waves of night. Its breath can blow the dying coals to light A tunnel black as pitch and radiate The way round pitfalls and sucking s~nds Even to the long, long corridor's end: Chain love's force in tomb with rock-seal tight, Beat it level on Friday's cross and still After three-days He rises above The morning sun in Tabor splendor. See how He moves unhindered through barred doors, All His glory sta.mped on hand and foot and side: Balm to festered sores of Calvary, Now free from binding shroud and fastening nails. Oh, Beacon Light at the end of the sea's corridor, Ointment spice for hurt eyes and wounded hands, Oh, Summoning Bell, buoyant to all our stumbling feet, Help us, Risen Christ, to walk life's dark waters! Marcella M. Holloway, C.S.J. 6400 Minnesota Avenue St. Louis, Mo. 63111 Comprehensive Counseling David Altman, O.C.S.O. Father David is a monk of Holy Trinity Abbey; Huntsville, Utah 84317. At one time or another during our lives, individuals will come to usfor the help they think we can give. Whether or not we find ourselves ex-pert in various kinds of problem-solving, we ought to be able to help them identify problems and be able to present recommendations. Perhaps the key to success in relating to and helping others is to see personal relationships as Christian ministry. The people we meet are, of course, Christ himself, in one of his many disguises. They are also our current pastoral assignments, to be met with faith and self-sacrifical love. Upwards of 85% of helping others consists.in listening: listening at-tentively with compassion and understanding. At times we will be called upon to respond, and this must not be done tritely, but intelligently and constructively. The Approach The secret, if there is one, of a good approach to solving personal problems is to meet each person-situation comprehensively, which is to say, completely. This simply means that we have to use a method which will ensure that problems are not permitted to get by undetected. We want to throw out a net, so to say, which will catch and identify all the difficulties from which a person is suffering. A way to do this is to realize that we human beings are basically three-fold in our makeup: we are physical beings, mental-psychologi~:al be-ings, and moral-spiritual beings, Obviously, then, we can have three gen-eral kinds of problems: physical, mental-psychological, and moral-spiritual. 191 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 These categories are not mutually exclusive since they all pertain to one human person in each case. I have found them useful in my own coun-seling experience because they are complete: they are the net from which no problem need escape, provided that each category is kept in mind dur-ing communication with the person who is seeking help. Competency Few of us are competent to handle difficult cases of pathological na-ture. Of course, those with severe illnesses are to be directed to pro-fessionals with the appropriate expertise. Psychotics need psychiatrists or psychologists; seriously sick bodies require medical attention; and mor-ally ill people need men and women who can show them God's healing ways. Because we presumably are these men and women of God, we ought also to have a certain competency in identifying problems in the other two areas of each person: the physical and the psychological. The body-soul unity is the temple of God's Spirit, sharing intimately in the spiri-tual life of each of us. Therefore our desire to, help the suffering Christ in others ought to carry us beyond spiritual and moral interests alone. Though we may not have the professional training by which we can solve a probiem fully, our working knowledge of various problems en-ables us to provide reasons to a person of his (or her) need for another with more expertise. Simply remarking, "You need a doctor" can be a slap in the face for one who is in pain. We should be able to convince another of his need for help, and perhaps even supply a good name for reference. Difficulties One of the greatest difficulties in attempting to solve individual prob-lems in any of the three areas is to give a suffering person What we want instead of what he needs. When a medical doctor sees a patient, the as-sumption is that the patient has a medical problem. Tunnel vision can take over, and physical medicine is all the doctor can see, whereas the patient's main difficulty may be in a quite different area. It is not un-usual for doctors to listen to remarks such as "I'm not feeling well" and respond with great pastoral concern: "Here, let me give you something for your nerves." This is treating the, sympto.m rather than attempting to identify the underlying cause, the root problem. When a person sees a psychologist with a problem, the psychologist will usually presume that the problem lies within the bounds of psycho-logical expertise. This too may not be the case at all. Remember the story Comprehensive Counseling / 193 of the man who went to a psychologist with a physical ailment that was impinging on his nervous system. "I feel terrible," was the complaint. The doctor responded unwaveringly with talk therapy and persevered in missing the mark. There is little sense and even less success realized in forcing one kind of solution on an entirely different kind of problem. Equally futile and costly is the failure to address real problems in favor of their symptoms. Worse still is the failure of the health-care specialist torecognize a ~prob-lem, then write off the patient as a hypochondriac. This is no solution, only an excuse. When religious or priests are approached for counseling, we nor-mally presume, in our turn, that the person is simply looking for a closer relationship with God, and we proceed accordingly and unfortunately. I remember a person coming to see a religious for years, feeling terrible for a great deal of her time. The counselor came across very generously with saccharine exhortations to a deeper relationship with the Lord. The individual responded with nodding smiles as tears of pain continued to roll down her cheeks. The religious was giving what he wanted, not what the person needed. As it was, the individual had developed a severe case of hypogly-cemia, diagnosed laterby a physician. And, as counselors should know, fluctuating blood-sugar levels have very much to do with a person's emo-tional dispositions. As soon as the suffering person said, "I feel terrible," that was the tip-off for aphysicai condition. After all, we can only feel, bodily, through our nervous-system cells. When they are offended, they are go-ing to let us know about it, one way or another, In addition to hypoglycemia and diabetes, people today are subject to stress situations--and with widely varying nutritional needs. Medical science today knows that under these stress conditions the body gobbles up vitamins and minerals to an enormous degree. Since the B vitamins, vitamin C, and calcium predominantly nourish the human nervous sys-tem, a deficiency is going to show up with contributions toward various kinds of problems: mood swings, nervousness, anxiety, anger, irritabil-ity, depression, compulsive sexual problems, insomnia. Any nervous-system- related problem can be caused or made more burdensome by the severely deficient diets that are practiced today throughout our junk-food land. One person complained of not feeling quite herself: irritable, even biting toward others. I learned that she had just recovered from the flu, Review for Religious, March-April 1989 which is just one of the stress factors we experience. I suggested a vita-min- mineral supplement on an as-needed basis, and the problem was cleared up. A third physical difficulty, also masked as spiritual or psychologi-cal, is the problem of intolerances. Pioneer medical research has shown that all kinds of personal difficulties are really the human body's reac-tion to ~,arious environmental factors: food intolerances certainly, but also paints, finishing substances, and other chemicals, even artificial light-ing. PhysiCal problems are the first options to explore in c~unseling. They are the most quantifiable, and perhaps the easiest to identify, if not to solve. Relationships People have trouble with relationships, and each of us has three re-lationships in life: a relationship with God, with others, and with one-self. Problem areas are identified by determining the quality of these three relationships, and there are many tip-off statements that come your way as a~counselor. They come voluntarily to the listening ear, and they can be elicited .by asking the right questions. For example, a counselor can determine the quality of someone's re-lationship with God by asking for details about private and communal prayer-lives and: about fidelity to known moral obligations :in 'marriage and work-commitments. Listening to descriptions of interpersonal rela-tionships can reveal much. On one occasion I heard, "They're pickin' on me." This could be true, or it could be a defense. In this particular case, "they" were not the problem. I was talking to the problem. We all enjoy the forbidden luxury of finger-pointing, but we should be mos'e aware that whatever we do, whatever~we say, whatever we wil.l-fully think, we are always saying something about ourselves. We behave out of what we are. Often individuals will present their relational difficulties in terms of an impossible situation with absolutely no way out. The answer is the awareness of the great difference between a real relational situation, and the particular way it is described. Simply reframe the problematic situ- ¯ ation. Discard the impossible description, redescribing the circumstances yourself, so as to provide as many solutions as you can. This takes imagi-nation, and first attempts will result in grasping at straws. But hold on to the straws, as they lead to stronger, more promising answers. It should also be clear that principles of good counseling are appli-cable not only to others,,but also to ourselves. In this connection there Comprehensive Counseling / 195 is a check on the judgments we must make in order to help others: the golden rule, the virtue of empathy, placing oneself in the other's shoes. These principles demand questions such as: Would I follow this advice myself? How would I feel were this advice given to me? Would I bene-fit from the behavior I am planning to recommend? The measure of the quality of any relationship--with God, others, or oneself--is the answer to this question: How does the individual han-dle conflict? We are all fair-weather friends of God, of others, especially of ourselves. But the true measure of a person's strength of character and personal integration is how one stands up in adversity. Do we respond to challenges with virtue and resultant, growth, or with vice and rebel-lion in its many forms? : We cannot give what we do not have; we can only give what we have, so the personal problems we carry around are going to show up in relationships with others. Do they handle re!ational conflicts with at-tempts at reconciliation and peace, or are they inclined to antagonism, revenge, and consequent alienation? Vices In the course of counseling experience, we come across the problem of evil: evil circumstances, evil behavior. We are all sinners before God, and before each other, a fact which ought never to be discounted in problematic relationships. We meet people who sin against God, against others, against them-selves. One of the best favors we can do for them is to help them admit and own their own evil. It is a mistake to try to identify every problem medically or psychologically. Wrongdoing must be identified, owned, and corrected. We are admittedly honest and generous in assigning praise for vir-tue and for any good act; we must be just as honest in recognizing and assigning vice (evil habits)and sinful acts. How we speak about this to others is important, but the honesty must be there, because the only way to solve a problem is to' face it. The love of Christ is a challenging love, because it is only through challenges that people grow. We must often challenge others' behavior, challenge their sin, challenge our own sin. It is these challenges which are the cross-experiences of our lives and the meaning of suffering. We grow through challenges into the strength of character that we need, to live life well, and to die well. These challenges or crosses hurt, because growing pains always do hurt. But the rewards are well worth the perse-vering effort. Review for Religious, March-April 1989 After the apparently innocuous complaint "My life seems to have no direction or purpose," aofew questions were able to uncover a some-what profligate sex life, little or no prayer, and a difficult family back~ ground. Well, we are all products of our background, but we never need be slaves of our backgrounds: Psychotherapy can be of great healing bene-fit; so can a humble confession of guilt with attendant petitions for for-giveness and :mercy; so can the healing power of prayer: holding up bad memories in prayer, exposing them to divine remedies. Whatever difficulties we:have had to endure, they tend to force upon us burdens and pressures which are often channeled compulsively as they please. Kn~owing that our two main emotion-vices are anger and lust, we see that compulsions can spell big trouble. As a result~ people gravitate toward giving up dominion over their own beings:~They become slaves of various emotions and habits. Indi-viduals abdicate the kingship or queenship of their beings in favor of an-ger, lust, drive for power, vain ambitiow, money, prestige, or another person. Taking steps to become one's own man, one's own woman, elimi-nates this slavery, and the first and most important step is fidelity to God ~nd his laws governing human living. This is i'eal love, which will in-variably be returned in greater measure, because w'e love a God who will not be outdone in generosity. Conclusion This contribution has also been called comprehensive because it is only an overview. There is no substitutefor common sense in counsel: ing, and no substitute for prayer. The Jesus Prayer o~: another prayer,of aspiration before, during, .and after the counseling session deepens the session in God, exposing both parties to divine healing power and spe-cial graces. We are ourselves healed as we heal others, because with our love, our desire to give.God to others,' we find that the same generous God gives to us in response to our needs. We offer the gift of our lives to the suffering Jesus in others,', and he returns this gift with his own life and gifts: the graces we need to accomplish our healing task well, and the grace to grow through our own physical, psychological, and moral prob-lems into the personal sanctity ordained for us. The Power of Romantic Love William F. Kraft, Ph.D. William Kraft, Ph.D., is well known to our readers. Dr. Kraft is on the faculty of th~ Psychology Department of Carlow College where he may be addressed: 3333 Fifth Avenue; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15213. ~1 don't know what's gotten into me, but I do know that I'vemever felt like this. I never thought I could feel so alive, so open, so good. Since becoming friends with Sarah, I feel more confident; it's as though prob-lems don't bother me like they used to. I function better, I'm more open, and life just seems to finally make more sense. Especially when I'm with Sarah, I feel light, energetic,optimistic. It's as if almost anything is pos-sible. "Some sisters label our relationship as exclusive, or God forbid: par-ticular. In some ways, I guess it is. I know I can hardly wait to see her, to spend the weekend with her, to go on vacation with her. And some-times, I think I yearn too much to be with her. And yet, how could some-thing as wonderful and good be bad? True: sometimes we get a bit too physical, but never genital. We really strive to be chaste, but it's diffi-cult at times. I would like to be more physical, to give all, but I know that would be going out of bounds. "Before my friendship with Sarah, I was sort of happy. I was a good teacher and got along okay in the community. But ! always had the feel-ing that I was missing something important, that life should be more than getting by or maintaining the status quo. And I was always kind of shy or constricted. It was as if I had all these flashing red and yellow lights in my mind, and now there are more green lights." This sister has fallen romantically in love--one of our most invigo-rating and seductive modes of love. She has been lured into and is en- 197 Review for Religious, March-April 1989 joying the experience where almost anything seems possible and almost nothing seems impossible. Feeling more courage and confidence, old problems seemed to have changed and new possibilities have emerged. And her friend seems to be the center of her life, the source of her new vision and strength. Her life is so much more alive than her relatively constricted past. Understandably, she wants more of this new life. Such is romantic love. Listen to this male religious. "Something incredible happened to me this summer. While finishing my master's degree, I fell in love. I met. Carol, and my life changed. It wasn't as if I had a game plan; it wasn't even on my mind. It just happened. "It's great. I've never been so open in my life, especially with a woman. I share everything, and it feels so good. We hold nothing back, and we seem to know what each other is thinking and feeling without even saying anything. It's magic. She's on my mind and in my heart all the time, and I can't wait to see her or at least call her. Thank God she lives in the same city. When we are together, time goes so quickly. A few hours seem like a few minutes. "I think others would say that I've been a good religious. I've done well in my ministry and have gotten along in my community. I am grate-ful to my fellow brothers and priests. So it is difficult to think about leav-ing the religious life, and neither is it an easy question for Carol. We love each other very much, but we also love the religious life. And it has been good to us. "When you asked me what is wrong with Carol, I was stumped. I know she is not perfect, but I don't see or feel anything wrong with her. And I feel so much better myself. I'll take your advice to wait until life settles, and not make a hasty decision that would change my entire life. True, I have known Carol for only four months, but it seems like I have known her all my life. "Why shouldn't I leave. True, it would be difficult to find a good job, and family life would certainly be different. But I could still do much of what I do now, and I feel that being married to Carol, I could even be closer to God. I will, with the help of you, my friends, and God discern my experience. But why would God give me such a beautiful gift and then expect me to reject it?" Indeed, romantic love is wonderful. Although this man has been a very rational, successful, and good community religious, he finds him-self in a serious dilemma: to leave or stay in religious life. His past has been good to him, and he to it, but his future seems to offer an even bet- The Power of Romantic Love / 199 ter life. Being immersed in the magic of love, he feels strongly drawn to this land of apparently unlimited possibilities. Both of these religious are enjoying and being inspired and chal-lenged by romantic love. Their love consumes them, embracing all their senses, mind, and spirit. Radically new horizons of meaning have opened up, pressuring them to restructure their lives. What should they do? In this article I will discuss the nature and dynamics of romantic love, its positive and negative possibilities and consequences in religious life, and ways to cope with oneself and others in service of healthy and holy growth. The Nature and Dynamics of Romantic Love Romantic love lures us into a world where there is nothing dull and mundane, a world that promises a new and better life. It offers us an ex-hilarating and inspiring unity of feeling intensely and of being strongly involved with the ideal. To experience transcendence passionately can be awe-fully seductive. Romantic love offers us an exhilarating and inspiring unity of feel-ing intensely and of being strongly involved with the ideal. As romantic lovers we yearn to be with each other, constantly think about and feel for each other, and so it seems touch each other even when we are physi, cally absent. Being without each other, we feel an intense void as well as presence in absence, and being with each other brings warmth, secu-rity, and fulfillment along with this sensuous enrapture. We initially ide-alize each other, feeling that we can do and share anything, and be our most perfect selves. We feel what love can be without its limits, and we want to give, to be,and to receive all that is possible. There is a special magic--a passionate affair with the ideal, an experience of heaven. What happens when we fall romantically in love? Initially we prob-ably feel as though we are walking on clouds, and that everything is pos-sible. We experience each other in terms of perfection, while our imper-fections are denied, minimized or rationalized. We may feel thatwe want to live together, to capture this love forever. This romantic time is one of the most exciting, pleasurable, and satisfying experiences. In the in-itial stages of friendship we may experience new possibilities in testing our limits, risking our vulnerability, feeling more alive than ever before, and willing to do almost anything. We may feel that everything is possi-ble and all right, and that life is radiantly alive. Our romantic friendship usually inspires us to become our best selves, and often new energy and courage provide the way. We can have romantic experiences in solitude. For instance, we may 200 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 intensely feel the spiritual possibilities of contemplation. We may expe-rience a world of meaning that is transcendent and permanent. To ask ultimate questions and to be confronted with mysterious issues can be a peak experience. T° hear silent music can include the romantic. Romantic lovers--religious, single, or married--initially experience the unlimited potential of each other and concretely celebrate each other's perfection. However, paradise does not last; our romantic time is usually followed by one of imperfection. Sometimes suddenly, instead of experiencing each other as unlimited, we intensely experience our limi-tations. We find ourselves criticizing, obsessed with the other's imper-fections, or perhaps withdrawing from each other. Think of a sister and priest (or lay couple) who fall in love and get married. At first, they radiate with love and cannot stand to be without each other. But sooner than later they begin to test and question their love, and at times cannot stand to be with each other. Instead of diviniz-ing each other, they now demonize each other. For instance, minor hab-its may become irritating. One squeezes the tooth paste from the middle and the other from the ind. His snoring upsets her, while her hair curl-ers upset him. More seriously, she becomes frustrated and angry because he no longer shows his feelings as he apparently once did. He becomes confused and angry with constant complaining about his overworking and in general his unavailability. Whatever the focus of criticism, they focus on eacffother's limits, as contrasted with their past when they en-joyed their unlimitedness. Instead of heavenly, being with each other feels more hellish. Their magic has disappeared. Consider a novice who experiences religious life as a perfect way of living. Particularly in early formation when there is considerable personal affirmation, exploration, and direction, religious life offers extraordinary opportunities for individual and communal growth. However, "reentry problems" may be experienced when a new religious moves from the no-vitiate to living in an ordinary community. Community living seems rnuch~different than it was in the novitiate, or how it was ideally de-scribed. The inevitable imperfection of living with others may feel more like a burden than a joy. A danger is to identify religious life (or any life form or person) with its perfections and possibilities, or with its limits and obstacles to growth. Like any personal (and professional) life, there are more or less problems and opportunities. Positive and Negative Seduction As its etymology indicates, seduction conveys a negative meaning, namely, some thing, activity, or person that leads us astray or into The Power of Romantic Love / 201 trouble. And indeed, this can be the case. However, seduction can also have positive meaning in luring us to a better life. One reason romantic love is important is that it can be a prelude and invitation to a more committed love. Its strong attraction, gentle excite-ment, and erotic idealism make it easier, more enjoyable, and exciting for us to enter love. Since love, especially intimate love, is a risky ven-ture, romantic love makes the entry into love relatively easier, safer, and moi'e fun. It is a delicious taste of heaven. But like food, its satisfaction is temporary, and if we eat too much of that elixir, we can get sick. Ro-mantic love is an intense promise of a more permanent love that is both ideal and limited, erotic and transcendent, for the moment and forever, pleasurable and painful, divine and demonic--a love that embraces and dignifies all of us. If some of us knew the total picture of religious life, especially its hard times, before entering religious life, we may have had second or third thoughts about making a life commitment. Strictly from a rational-istic view, religious life may not have been as appealing. Fortunately our Holy Spirit called us with an alluring voice. Likewise, some of our friend-ships may never have occurred without romantic love's promise of an even .more balanced, wholly, and permanent love. To be sure, not all men and women entered religious life or friendship in a romantic aura. But many did, and few people live without any romanticism. Our spiritual journey with and toward God can also include romantic times. It is not unusual to go through a time--or times--of being roman-tically in love with God. We may suddenly feel that anything is possi-ble, that everything will turn out all right, that everything makes sense. We may bask in a divine light while minimizing, forgetting, or even re-pressing darkness. Although there is much truth in the vision, dark nights will come in service of a deeper and more realistic presence to God. Romantic love is not only a means toward an end. When immersed in romantic love, it is good to celebrate and proclaim our romantic stand in the world. Our experience is a witness to love and often promotes hap-piness for others. We can also build a precious source of memories that can help us gain perspective when going through difficult times. And in-deed as authentic lovers we can, though not constantly, congistently cele-brate times of romantic love. Helping Oneself and Others Think of two religious who care for each other and become close friends. Initially, they may idealize their relationship so that it is basi-cally exclusive. At first, they may wonder how they ever li.ved without 202 /Review for Religious, March-April 1989 each other. Especially if one or both persons have had restricted feelings of affection, now they can feel free to express themselves without re-straint. They feel liberated and more wholly alive. Their "particular" friendship, however, soon incorporates limits and obstacles. For in-stance, they discover that they can irritate and confuse each other, and :they can become hurt, angry, jealous, and perhaps guilty and ashamed. Instead of harboring resentment, or ending the friendship, both persons can step back--physically, psychosocially, and spiritually--and listen to themselves and each other, and hopefully return to renew and deepen their friendship so that it includes both their positive and negative dimen-sions. The challenging ideal is that both the light and dark sides of life be integrated, rather than absolutizing one of them. In fact, these experi-ences point to and affirm what life is--both divine and demonic, light and dark, life and death. When we experience a person as perfect, it is helpful to keep in mind that every person is imperfect. When there are disagreements, past agreements can be remembered as well as agreeing. to disagree. Our challenge is to see potential virtue where there is vice, strength where there is weakness, joy where there is sadness, love where there is hate, life where there is death. Courage and commitment are needed to move with and grow from life's paradoxical rhythm. Although romantic love is particularly enjoyable, the genuine desire to give one's self totally to another p~'esents challenging difficulties. Be-cause of the affective and ideal qualities of romantic love, we may nei-ther want nor perhaps experience any limits, and consequently may yearn to give unconditionally in every way pogsible. As religious we may yearn to celebrate our love in genital experiences, but we can say "no" in serv-ice of a "yes" to our love. What can superiors, friends, or other community members do when they observe religious in romantic love. Particularly when the exclusivity is causing little community I~arm, the wisest approach may be to do noth-ing, that is, to let romantic love run its course from the divine to the de-monic. However, when infatuation occurs or the dark, limited phase ap-pears, interveution may be called for. What you d6 depends on the kind and amount of power and responsibility your superior and others in re-sponsible roles have, as well as what you are willing and able to do, par-ticularly in being willing and able to invest the time and energy on con-fronting, processing, and following through with consequences. A superior may choose to confront a priest with his infatuous friend-ship. Confrontation means to state assertively and with concern what you The Power of Romantic Love / 203. observe in the other's behavior. It does not mean to interpret or analyze a person's behavior, nor does it include verbal oppression or emotional rape. We give feedback, and depending on our authority, we state natu-ral and logical consequences of one's behavior. For instance, if you con-tinue to date this woman as well as isolate yourself from the community, then counseling must be pursued or you will be transferred to another city, or you will be asked/told to leave. It is important to remember that although we impact on one another more or less positively and negatively, we cannot change anyone. We can give others opportunities, feedback, advice, consequences, and so forth, but only they can change themselves. We can only change and con-trol ourselves, and this is accomplished within varying degrees of lim-its. Authoritarian, codependent, and other well-intentioned and overly responsible people may find this fact difficult to accept. Ideally, a radical decision (for example, leaving religious life) or a life commitment (for example, vowed religious life) should not be made in either the so-called divine or demonic phases of love. When we are madly in love and experience no imperfections whatsoever, a life com-mitment is precarious. And we should be equally as prudent about mak-ing radical decisions, those that significantly irnpact on our lives, while in a demonic phase. When life is overwhelmingly dark, any light or re-lief can be tempting. It is better to wait until light emerges in our pre-sent situation--to wait until we make more sense of our struggle and be freer to choose. To paraphrase an old saying: the darkest and coldest time is right before dawn. Ideally, we should also not make a decision for life only out of ro-manticism or infatuation--when there are no limits or imperfections, but rather when we can be open to both the positive and negative factors of our past, present, and future situations. For instance, a brother who falls in love with a sister may be in the divinizing stage of romantic love. When asked what is wrong with his beloved, he may say nothing con-crete. Until he can point out experientially what is positive and negative about her and himself, it is probably better for him to wait before mak-ing such a radical decision such as leaving religious life to get married. A decision to leave, not because of romantic involvement, but be-cause nothing seems right and satisfying is quite tempting. When under enormous stress, we can be duped into feeling that a change in lifestyle will solve personal and interpersonal problems. It is more likely that we will take our problems with us and unconsciously seek a similar situ-ation. It is wiser to look at and deal with the dark side in ourselves and 204 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 then make decisions. In short, authentic committed love is never perfect or divine, and nei-ther is it always imperfect or demonic. It is a combination of both. When on earth, life and love are matters of heaven and hell. If authentic love were perfect, commitment would not be necessary, there would be heaven, not earth. Because we are a unity of perfection and imperfec-tion, commitment is called for. Seed I .know interpretation has rules, But they should not freeze mystery. Why can't metaphors step between parables, And people and plots mingle? The sower, for instance, and the birds on the wayside who fed, the birds Who never fall unknown any more Than the bum thrown out of the bar And the starving, potbellied African baby. How wide is the wayside'? Past oceans And deserts and ranges and space to Ultimate doing of truth in love? And the rocks (poor Peter), are they always shallow? Have you seen those rock walls on roads Where, in spite of technology, a stubborn Wild shoot adorns the crazy face of An impossible height? or the sturdy Root that splits concrete apart and Frees the seed of a water main (prodigal spill)? Then There's the child who patiently pulls the Tufts from the cracks between bricks And scatters the clumps for the wind To sow next season's crop and chore. But the thistles--I don't know about them. I cringe at the vision of crowns And wonder if scarlet hands too Can drip the seeds of the realm That the sower went out to sow. Clarita Felhoelter, O.S.U. 3105 Lexington Road Louisville, Kentucky 4020'6 The Experience of Mid-Life Divorce and AlienationI David J. Hassel, S.J. Father David Hassel, S.J., is currently Research Professor of Philosophy at Loyola University of Chicago. The contents of this article will be part of his forthcoming book called The Ache of Alienation. His address is Loyola University; 6525 N. Sheridan Road; Chicago, Illinois 60626, Helen,s husband had confronted her a year ago after a very quiet dinner. "Helen," he had said, "there is something we have to talk about in the living room while the kids are out." They had sat there through a long silence before he said in a rush of words: "I want a divorce; I cannot go on living as we have been--distant, on parallel courses, never really meeting. The kids already suspect something and are old enough to han-dle this now. I've made a decision and no talking will change it. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I've already done. My lawyer has drawn up the legal papers; you'll be taken care of financially." Helen, her voice sounding like cracking ice, had said to him: "Joe, it's Anita, isn't it. That day down at the office I saw the glance you gave her--like the one you had once given me." "Yes," he said, "but we are not going into that." Helen could recall herself slowly getting up, slowly going up the stairs to her room, throwing herself on the bed and beginning to shudder with great dry heaves. No tears, only a terrible emp-tiness. When during the course of the following weeks, she had been alone with each of the children, she had received some additional shocks. Jim, the twenty-two year old just finishing college, put it simply: "Look, Mom, where have you been the past two years? Dad has been home less and less, and telling less and less what he has been doing. What have 205 206 / Review for Religious, March-April 1989 you been thinking?" The twins, Edith and Carol, high school seniors, were rather casual: "Morn, this is the way things go these days; you have to be ready for the worst and this is the worst, no doubt about it." Timothy, the twelve-year old, was inconsolable: "Dad's leaving us be-hind and it's unfair; I hate him now. But what can we do? I guess we just get used to it the way Jerry Kanz did when his Dad moved out." Helen, like many another to-be-divorced woman, had looked back over her life and wondered bitterly: Where did it start to go wrong? Where did I fail? Except for Timmy, the children seemed so casual about it all. Were they simply ungrateful, without any affection for her and Joe or were they covering up their anger and disappointment? Her telephone call to her mother had caused a flood of tears and a scalding anger-- more at Helen's stupidity than at Joe's two-timing. Her favorite brother had only said, "Well, the bastard finally owned upto it, did he?" Women friends had been properly shocked and consoling for some weeks; then the telephone calls became less frequent and one friend fi-nally said to her: "Honey, you have to stop lamenting and get your life together--without Joe; the sooner the better." All her doings had be-come meaningless: cooking meals, house-cleaning, shopping, bridge-clubbing, fulfilling the immediate needs of her children, attending Mass, telephoning friends, volunteering at the hospital, watching TV late into the night. Then the depressing guilt-fits began. Why were her children so un-feeling unless she had failed badly in their upbringing? Why had she not noticed sooner her husband's wandering and done something to woo him back? Had she become an insensitive creature herself? Were all her friend-ships superficial, revealing her own lack of depth? Was all her busyness merely a way to hide from herself who she really was: an empty shell of a woman? How could even God find time for her anymore? Actually her past seemed gutted, her present confused and her future dark with anxiety. The Woman Religious' Parallel Experience of "Divorce" Helen's experience, in one form or another, is that of thousands of wives and mothers as divorces continue to multiply across America. But is it so very different from the experience of not a few women religious who at mid-life review the past ten or twenty years of their own lives and wonder where their prayer-union with Christ has gone? The woman religious has been living the regular routines of a life consecrated to Christ: spending some time with him before breakfast and before heading to bed; taking care of his people in hospital, school, day- Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation care center, parish, and social work office; making some friends along the, way; watching TV and going for occasional walks; attending family gatherings, and centering her life in daily Eucharists. But in everything she feels hardly any feedback of gratitude or joy. If she is a social worker, she may have been called a meddler by the fam-ily whose children she has seen through hospitals, remedial reading courses, and angry bouts with their parents. The high school teacher of twenty-five years' experience may have been told by a lay colleague that she is twenty years behind the times in her teaching techniques and thirty years behind in her understanding of today's high schoolers. The sister-nurse may be overwhelmed with the ugly fact that her order's hospitals are now big business and that she had better play it safe with charity cases lest the hospital's budget-report show red ink. An almost exhausted sister may be informed by her superior that if she cannot take this job of religious coordinator at the disorganized St. Dismas parish, she had better find another job.to earn her way. Meaning seems to have drained out of her work. The once beautiful routines connected with teaching, nursing, administrating, catechizing, parish organizing, and social work-ing feel drab, spiritless, and unending. Meanwhile, because of her busy dedication to her order and its works, she has allowed her own brothers and sisters to fade out of her life as they moved to the distant coasts and as she wrote less and less ¯ often. Her parents have become elder.ly, somewhat absent-minded, eager for her presence but hardly able to carry on a relaxing conversation, and evoking melancholy in her at their decline and helplessness. Her sister-friends are as busy as she; glad to see her and to chat for a time, but al-ways on the move to another appointment: little time for long leisurely conversations, not many fun times." Because she is one of the few younger sisters in tier older community, she may have to assume greater responsibilities without any contemporary nearby in whom to confide and with whom to laugh at life's crazy antics. This is a new aloneness never felt in her initial formation. The simple joys of life seem few and far between during these periods of intensely felt alienation. She wonders: is all my past life for nothing? Have I lost the respect of my own family; those who first gave me life and hope? Have I missed out on community life? Or did it never exist and I pretended, that it did? Why has my ministry lost its zest? Have I begun to give up on it and, if so, will I ever find a second ministry and trust myself to its demands for a disciplined life of sacrifice? Do my superiors and fellow religious value me for myself or only for what I can do? Are we all just worker- Review for Religious, March-April 1989 bees in the religious hive? Where is the reality of my prayer life? God seems so distant, so uninterested in me, so unlike the intimate friend of my early religious life. Around me I seem to find so many happy fami-lies and fulfilled career women. Or am I just romanticizing their lives out of my own drabness? Then begin the guilt-fits. Mow did my life dissipate into merely con-stant duties, deadlines, hurried moments of leisure with friends, commu-nity tensions, and superficial moments with Christ? How could I have ¯ let it happen? Does all this mean that I never had a vocation to religious life or that religious life in my particular group is now ,antiquated and no longer viable in ou~ present culture? What is my future--if anything? Who but a recently divorced iaywoman could Fully appreciate these questions and feelings 0f the woman religious. The divorced man, hear-ing a man,religious venice similar questions and feelings, would surely resonate to these pains of the heart and mind. The Feel of Alienation from the Church Among the Divorced and the Alienated The suffering asked of divorced men and women and of alienated re-ligious is scandalous not only to them but to the people who love them dearly. The shock felt by the "divorced" is such that at times they do feel isolated from their family (blood or religious) and perhaps even from Christ's Church. Their great temptation is to cut loose from past ties; to be free from all the b~aggage of the past~ They ask themselves: "Why not just leave the family or the religious order and forget any service of the Church?" It seems so much easier simply to concentrate on a career and, if the occasion offers, to form a small manageable group of new friends. Later some of these "divorced" will leave the Church deliber-ately and others will slowly drift away complaining: "'I'm tiredof fight-ing Church bureaucracy and small-mindedness." There is no denying that, in the twentieth-century Church, the petty pride of place, the drift towards disorder, the trickery practiced in the name of the kingdom, the mechanical use of the sacraments, the eloquent extolling of poverty by comfortable clerics, andthe depreciation of women's ministry are all very much alive. In fact, Christ found them quite active in his first century Church: the women's announcement that they had met the risen Christ was called "women's gossip"; John and James used their mother to agitate for their occupying the seats of power next to Christ; Paul had to confront Peter about using different standards for Jewish and gentile converts; Jerusalem converts tried to saddle all gen-tile converts with the hea~y apparatus of Judaic Law; Ananias and Sa- Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation / 209 phira embezzled the common holdings of the Christian community; some of the apostles, notably Judas, deplored Mary Magdalen's ministry to Christ as frivolous. This is the kingdom, God's people, as Christ de-scribed them in the parables where the net is thrown into the sea to haul in both good and bad fish or where the wheat field is sown with weeds by the enemy. The problem is not that scandal is always in the Church but that faith-fulness is needed to live through the scandalous events amid feelings of alienation. Men and women religious suffering alienation from their com-munities need to share their lives with divorced laymen and laywomen if they are all to remain faithful to the Church and to their families, lay and religious. The pooling of experience, the companioning in common sorrows, the cooperative attempt to let the Church know their agony, the working together to build better futures for each other and for the Church, enable the divorced lay people to take heart and the alienated religious to remain loyal. One woman religious who has been offering a program for divorced women in her motherhouse found that the prayers of the retired sisters gave solace to the divorced women, while the faith of the divorced women amid severe mental suffering proved encouraging to elderly sis-ters, some of whoin felt~ intensely their seeming uselessness to the world and to their Church. One of the divorced women approached this woman religious directing the program and said to her: "Were you divorced be-fore you entered religious life? You seem to read us so well." Aloud the sister said: "No, I've never b~een married," but whispered inside her-self "But I have experienced divorce--from my congregation." Recently women and men religious groups have been welcoming some divorced into their communities and finding that these women and men bring in a dimension of life much needed by the religious order. The divorced woman or man has gone through devastating bereavement from all that once gave meaning t,o her or his life. Through this stripping, they have rediscovered their own personal worth, having learned how to dis-tinguish life-roles (mother or father, wife or husband, secretary or car-penter, daughter or son, sister or brother) from their own selves which play out these roles. The divorced woman, for example, no longer de-fines herself merely by what she can do, but by what she can be--first in herself and then for others. This, of course, affects her relationship with Christ. She is devoted to him, first of all, for his own sake; and she expects his affection to be directed towards her for herself and not sim-ply for her accomplishments. Neither God nor herself is made out to be 210 / Review for Religious~ March-April 1989 an heroic workaholic. Such a mature attitude can be benevolently conta-gious. On the other hand, women and men religious have something to of-fer divorced laywomen and laymen. After all many religious have had to deal with the mid-life transition.2 They have come to see that the "yes-terdays outnumber the tomorrows" and that they have to trim their ap-ostolic sails accordingly. Their eqergy is less, their talents are not quite as rich as they first thought, they must drop some projects totally, oth-ers partially, in order to do the central works. At this point envy of the younger, the more energetic, and the more talented can creep in. Amid these tensions, one becomes more aware of personal shortcomings, pre-tenses, sins of revenge .and cattiness, and suddenly vehement sex-drives. This discouraging aspect of life is often allied with a sense of being enmeshed in a great bureaucratic machine (at the job or in the congrega-tion o~in work with the local government) with which one must battle for personal values without destroying oneself or the organization. At this same t~me friendships take on greater importance and one must re-order one's commitments to people, work, and God. Here the man and woman religious~face bereavement from parents and older friends who die. They have moved away from pet projects, from. former work that gave much satisfaction, and from favorite attitudes or ideas that no longer fit the times.' Death, including their own,.seems at times to totally sur-round them. But at the same time, if the man and woman religious can ride all these waves with some gratitude and graciousness, the slower pace al-lows them to have time for more care of others. A warm Wisdom, the fruit of keeping a sense of humor amid much suffering, can pervade their every day. A new stability may take shape at the center of their being. In their lasting friendships, they may rediscover their faithful God. And all this they can offer to divorced laymen and laywomen out of the very alienations which they had felt towards their own congregations. How bountiful the divorced lay people and alienated religious can be towards each other and thus towards the people of God--even though at times they feel so utterly empty and find themselves walking laboriously as though in desert sands. This desert experience has been chronicled and deserves our attention since out of it can come a conversion which will reveal a new self, a new God, and a new world. The Desert Experience of Transition Before Conversion Two women have given us brutally honest yet sensitive accounts of Mid-Life Divorce and Alienation their transitions from one congregation to another. The great change seemed to them like a lay person's divorce and remarriage with its awk-wardness, periods of loneliness, and rediscovery of self and life.3 Sr. Marie Conn found the loneliness of transfer to a new religious commu-nityunique in its roots and in its intensity. For she left behind a vibrantly rich past with only a vague future in mind. Besides, those with whom she would live her present and future had little idea of her past and she, of their past. When one starts all over with new and slowly developing friendships, with fresh routines, and with no one able to enter into one's more precious memories, one is thrust into a new relati
Issue 46.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1987. ; Self-Awareness and Ministry Gender, History, and Liturgy Humanity's Humble Stable God's Love Is Not Utilitarian Volume 46 Number 6 Nov./Dec. 1987 Rv:vw.w t:o~ R~,~olous (ISSN 0034-639X), published eve~ two months, is edited in collaboration with lhe faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Lx~uis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. R~vu-:w ~:o~ R~:.~.~t~ous is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. Ol987 by R~-:wt.:w ~:o~ R~.~.~ous. Single copies $2.50. Subscriptions: 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~:v~v:w roa R~:t.mmtts: 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 Nov./Dec. 1987 Volume 46 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to wm R~:t.t(:totJs; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about 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 ordered from R~:vt~:w wm R~:tot~;totJs; 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. Four Ecclesial Problems Left Unresolved Since Vatican II Martin R.Tripole, S.J. Father Tripole is an associate professor of th.eology at St. Joseph's University; Phila-delphia, Pennsylvania ! 913 !. He,wrote "Suffering with the Humble Chi'ist" for the March,April 1981 issue of this periodical. Catholic scholars have been.talking about crisis in the Catholic Church for so long a time now that almost everyone has gotten used to it. In fact, too many people have been saying there is a crisis for anyone to ignore the situation. But not everyone uses the term. It depends on whom you tall~ to. Until recently, the higher you went in the Church, the less likely you were to find admission of crisis. For example, Bishop Ja~mes Malone of Youngstown, Ohio, former president of the National conference of Catho-lic Bishops, submitted a report to the Vatican in the summer of 1985 on the state of the Church. in the United States since Vatican II, a report made in preparation for the Extraordinary Synod of Bishops that met in Rome November 25-December 8, 1985.:In his. report, Bishop Malone stated the Church in the United S(ates is "basically sound." The bishop made no mention of cri~is; instead he talked of "confusion" and "abuses" and "false ideas'" and "diffiC'ulties" in various areas of church life.~ While many praised th~report, it was also criticized as "looking at the Church in the United States through 'rose-colored glasses.' "2 But another high-level member of the clergy has no difficulty speak-ing of crisis. Joseph Cardinal' Ratzinger,. prefect of the Sacred Congre-gation for the Doctrine of the Faith, surely one of themost powe~rful of-ficials in tlie Vatican, made the ~tiscussion of crisis in the Church today 801 Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 the c.entr~l theme of his Ratzinger Report. This 1985' publicati6r~ of an exclusive interview given to an Italian journalist caught the attention of everyone and produced much controversy, in'view of the cardinal's strong views on the Church, as well as the fact that he published them just before the extraordinary synod was to be held. Ratzinger and his in-terviewer discourse at length on "a crisis of faith and of the Church," of "an identity crisis" in priests and religious, a "crisis of trust in the dogma," a "crisis of confidence in Scripture," a crisis "of the moral-ity. "In his summation of "the gravity of the crisis" in the Church since Vatican II, Ratzinger's tone is markedly different from Bishop Malone's. The interviewer cites views written by Ratzinger ten years earlier and con-firmed by him for the Report as still valid: It is incontestable that the last ten years have been decidedly unfavor-able for the Catholic Church . What the popes and the Couhcil Fa-thers were expecting was a new,Catholic unity, and instead one has en-countered a dissension which--to use the words of Paul Vl--seems to have pasg~d over from self-criticism to self-destruction . it has ended in boredom and discouragement . one found oneself facing a progressive process of decadence . [and] erroneous paths whose catastrophic consequences are already incontestable.3 Nevertheless, when the bishops came together at the extraordinary synod, they spoke of sharing in "mankind's present crisis and dramas" and of the "spiritual crisis., so many people feel" today, but not of an, y crisis of the Church as such. Less exfflt6d Catholic leaders, theologians, and publishers readily speak of crisis in the Church. The Rev. Robert Johnson, president of the National Federation of Priests' Councils, in 1985 stated: Priesthood is in crisis. The vocation of the ordained priest is not what it used to be. The data tells us that. Our own experience tells us that also. There is a crisis in numbers. At its zenith in 1970, the diocesan priesthood .in the United States numbered some 37,000. By the year 2000, it is estimated that this population will be 16,000 or 17,000. This would represent a declin.e of some 54%. i in the year 2000 we will have roughly the same number of priests we had in 1925. Meanwhile, the people we were ordained to serve will have quadrupled.4 Edward C. Herr, in a report on "The State of the Church," in 1985 stated that, whereas in a similar report in 1983 there were "hopes that a relatively stableoand tranquil period" was about to arrive in the Church, he must now report those hopes were "naive," that "the tensions and turmoil have increased and show no signs of ebbing."4A He reports the Four Ecclesial Problems recent findings of Dr. William J. McCready, program director of the Uni-versity of Chicago's National Opinion Research Center (NORC), that "a third of the 52 million Roman Catholics in America rarely or never go to church."5 Herr cites an article by James Hitchcock, professor of his-tory at St. Louis University, which lis~ed a catalo~g of ~'problems facing the Church in America" today: REligious orders openly pro.moting dissent Official Church agencies providing platforms for dissent ~"Radical redefinition of the traditional religious vows" Tolerance of "known violations" of chlibacy Growing influence of "militant homosexual network" in seminaries and religious orders Almost total collapse of seminary discipline "Probably a large majority of Catholic colleges hnd universities have become bffectively secular" Widespread deviations from "official liturgical norms" Majority of Catholic students no longer receive an adequate grounding in their faith Bishops and priests "largely refrain from teaching ,, disputed doctrines.' ,6 ~' Herr also reports the views of Richard Schoenherr, soc'iologist and asso-ciate dean at the University of Wisconsin at Madison in 1985, on "a cri-sis for the Church by the year 2000." Acc6rding to Herr, Schoenherr presents ~ a bleak picture of the Church-at the turn of the century. Opportunities to attend Mass will be fewer since each priest will have to serve 4,000 Catholics in a burgeoning Church; laity,.tired of a subordinate position in the Church, will withdraw from active leadership while those who do continue to serve will be laden with greater responsibility . There will be "an organizational crisis of immense proportion," accord-ing to Schoenherr, with an "ehormous youth drain in theministry," and with more "resigned" than active priests in the United States.7 Norbertine Father Alfred McBride, president of the University of Al-buquerque, also predicts a "ministry crisis" in 2000. He foresees a to-tal of 30,000 priests serving. 65 million Catholics.8 Finally., novelist Mor-ris West, author of many best-sellers on (~atholicism, is reported as see-ing the possibility of "a silent schism" in the Church of the future, as a result of "a defection of millioi~s by a-slow decline into indiffer-ence. ' ,9 Review, for Religious, November-December, 1987 The fact is: there has been talk of a crisis in the Church ever since the '60's--that per_iod which constitutes a kind of a turning point.in the life of the modern Church. That decade, from which date many of the issues whi~c,h 'trouble~the American Church today was equally a problemati~ decade for American society in gene,ra~l., and indeed for the world. In fact, the world is "officially" in a state of crisis---~f sorts. The bishops told us that at Vatican II when they stated the "human race is passing through a.new stag~ 0fits history" where it is undergoing "a true social and cultural transformation" causing a "crisis of gro~vth. "~0 The modern world is experiencing "new foLoas of social and p~sychologi-cai slavery" as well as "imbalances" that lead to "Mutual distrust, en-mities, conflicts, an~'hardships" (~audium el spes 4, 8). According to the bishops, this situation of crisis inevitably "has repercussions on man's religious life as~ well": it cause,s "spiritual agitation,"4"many peo-ple are shaken" in their convictions, and '~growing humbers~ of people are abandoning religion fin pr~actice" .(GS 5, 7). Later in the _same docu-ment, though in the context of a discussion on war and peace, the bish-ops speak of "the whole human family" as having "reached an hour of supreme crisis in its advance toward maturity" (GS 77). While the bishops at Vatican II did not go so far as to say directly that the Church was in a state of crisis, they certainly meant to say that the Church shared in the~crisis situation of the'world in ggneral. It was not long after, however, that writers.started speaking directly, of a crisis in the Church. We may note only a few. Father Andrew Greeley loudly proclaimed that as a fact in an important series of articles he published in diocesan newspapers in 1976; entitled "The Crisis in American Ca-tholicism" (and later in a book entitled Crisis in the Church),~ but the idea of ,the Church. in crisis had already quietly come into standard con-sideratiOn or was .soon to do so through the writings of such renowned historians, scrilSture scholars, and theologians as Raymond Brown, S.S. (B~blical Reflections on Crises Facing the C. hurch),~2 Richard P. McBr~en (he speaks of the "pre.sent crisis within the Catholic Church" in The Remaking oft~ Churcl~),~3 Avery Dulles, S.J. (fie sl~eaks of a "crisis of identity" in the Church in The Resilient Church), 14 and David J. O'Brien (h611spe~iks of the '~Catholic crisis," the "American crisis," and "an age Of crisis" in The Renewal of A. merican Catholicism).~5 Statistical~d~ta since the end of Vatican II--th~e latest reports of An-drew Greeley's National °Opinion Research Center in Chicago,~6 from George Gallup Jr.'s continuing analysis of the state of the Catholic Church in America,~7 and from the Notre Dame Study of Catholic Par- Four Ecclesial Problems /805 ish Life~8--provide overwhelming evidence, as far as statistical data is able to do so, that the American Catholic Church is in a state of crisis. ¯ Evidence: American Catholics no longer accept official teaching of the Church simply,on the basis of the fact that it is official teaching; Catho-lics no lbnger go to church, as much as ~hey used to, to fulfill their Sun-day obligation or from ~i sense of duty; they ~ai'e not contributing to the sti~iport of the Church.in a way consonant with their earnings; they are o~penly criticizing the Chui'ch in a way" that seems to i'epresent a new ¯ sense ol~ independence over agains~t the institutional Church" and its offi- Cial teachers. What is going on, and when will it end? Causes of Crisis Since Vatican II ,Numerous publications have been~ritteri since Vatican II seeking to determine the causes of the crisis Which has beset the Church since~that time. The fact is, the ca~iases are manifold, and only a, lhrge t0ine could hope to anal~,ze and cover them all thoroughl)~. What I attempt here is -'C0: fbcus on what I shall call four unresolved antinomi~ek which are re-flected in the thinking and practices of the Church since Va[i~an II. My point is to argue that the bishops at Vatican II not o~nly were aware o,f, but shgred in,. the theologically, antinomous viewpoints which have largely served to. polarize the Church sin.ce~ the end of the Council.° Though there is~ some exaggera~tion in categorizing these viewpoints quite simplyas conservative/traditionalist and liberal/progressivist, I shall do that for want of better terms, and also because the viewpoints do .tend to be of these two types. Though these terms have a political and ideo-logical connotation, their use here is not meant to imply that. What we,mean.by the use of these terms is that there are two oppos-ing movements working in the Church today. The first is inclined to want ,to preserve elements today which were also characteristic of the life of the Chtirch ~before Vatican II,-elements such as hierarchical authority, clerical priority, and institutional identity;~the second is more inclined toward~elements which arose in the life of the Church since Vatican II, elements such as democratic~procedures, equality of membership, unity based on shared convictions and shared authority. ,Neither group is. to-tally opposed to the values identified with the other, except at the outer fringes. Thus~extreme traditionalists---c~illed reactionaries wish no part of what~the Church since Vatican II has come to be identified with; ex-treme liberals~alled radicals--reject automatically whatever was promi-nent in the Church before Vatican II and yearn for a congregationalist type of community. For the larger membership in both groups, the prob- Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 lem is mainly one of emphasis: which set of values, which viewpoint should ,be the dominant one in the .life of the Church?. That question of emphasis is a serious one. In spite of the fact that it is only a question of emphasis, it leads in practice to polarization. Re-cent events in .the .life of the Church.have increased this experience of polarization rather than diluted it, mainly because the traditionalist camp, which had largely fallen into the ~silent majority in ~the Church .in the post- Vatican II peri0d, has gained a new sense of power in the last ten yehr~s. The struggle between these two, groups is now, in my opinion, at the most intense point of conflict the Church has felt since the early pp,s~t- Vatican II days of the Church. What, if anything, can be done to reduce this polarization? I wish in this article only to point to what I consider the four major areas of po-larization which were left unresolved by Vatican II. They continue to re-main largely unresolved by the post-Vatican II Church, even after the Ex-traordinary Synod of 1985, and they need to be resolved before the po-larization can b6 overcome:~I~ t me discuss each of these areas singly_, and at some length:. Saci~ed ~vs."Si~cular ' The" Catholic Church has had a strong sense of social responsibility throughout the modern era., as shown in a history of concern forrectify-ing inhumane workihg conditions, unjust wages, and unfair labor prac- .tices, starting at least with Leo XIII's Rerum Novarum: On the Condi-tioh of Workers (1891). Nevertheless, there is no doubt that a new and profound theological significance has been given to the role of the Church in regard to such matters since Vatican II. Prior to Vatican II, social activity was generally considered to be peripheral to the primary ¯ work o(the Church, to administer the s~icraments and preach the gospel of salvation in Christ. With Vatican II, the Church seemed to be saying that the .social apostolate was as important to the life of the Church as these two other activities. .A major transformation in the relationship of the Church to the world got underway at Vatican II. The .Chur~hnow saw itself not only right-fully but also dutifully bound to bring the insight and power of the gos-pel into the .arena of world problems, in the hope of changing th~ un-holy conditibns and direction of the life'of the world from within. Church concern for such issues was obvious ifi the countless conventions and publicat!ons on social, political, and moral issues that sprang up in the post-Vatican II era. Most notable was the conference by the Latin Ameri-can bishops at Medellin, Colombia, in 1968, which registered a strong Four Ecclesial Problems / 807 commitment by Latin American bishops to Overcoming the problems of the poor and oppressed in their countries; and the international Synod of Bishops in Rome in 1971, which published the historic document Jus-tice in the World, which, "Scrutinizing the signs of the times.ai~d seek-ing to detect the meaning of emerging history," concluded that "Ac-tion on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemp-tion of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situ-ation." 19 One of the 9learest examples of how important the new thrust into social and political matters would be forthe American Church may be seen from a 1981 publication of the U.S. Catholic Conference enti-tledA Compendium of Statements of the United States Catholic Bishops on the Political and Social Order. It takes 487 pages to cover the docu-ment~ ition from 1966 .to 1980, which includes statements on "war and peace, development, and human rights," as ~eil as "~tbo~tion, birth con-trol, Call to Action (the U.S. Bishops' Bic~htennial Consultation on So-cial Justice), crime'and punishment, economic issues, family life, free-dom of religion, housing, immigrants, labor disputes, minorities, race, rural America, and television."2° More recently the United States bish-ops have taken forthright and controversial stands ori the matters of war and peace and the American economy,'the former in their pastoral.letter The Challenge of Peace: God's Promise~and Our Response (May 3, 1983), the latter in their Economic Justice foroAll~" Catholic Social Teach-ing and the U.S. Economy (November 13, 1986). In each case the bish-ops argue to. the implications of the gospel message, singling out the im-morality of nuclear warfare or the scandalous operations, in the Ameri-can economic system. The full implications of these strong teachings have yet to be determined. ~, All of this would be cause fo'~ unmitigated joy, were it not for the fact that with. this new emphasis UpiSn the social implications of the Gos-pel, something transcendent in the' gospel teaching may have been lost. One :of the major problems in the life of the.Church since Vatican II, according to the bishops at the Extraordinary Synod of 1985, has been the lack of recognition and acceptance of a sacral or theological depth to the Churcti's life--what the synod calls the "mystery" of the Church. The bishops .take responsibility for the fact that this dimension of Churcfi life has been undermined, especially among young people, by a too secu-lar conception of the .Church as a mere human institution. The bishops assert: ~ I~Oll / Review for Religious~ ~November-December, 1987 , a unilateral'presentation of:the 13hurch as a purely institutional structure devoid of her mx.stery has been made. We~are probably not immune from all respon, sibility for th.e fact that, especially the young consider the Chur~ch a pure institution. Have we not perhaps favored this opinion in them by speaking ~too much of the i'enewal Of the Church's external struc-tures and too little of God a'hd of Christ? The bisl~ops admit ~that in their eagerness to open the. Church to the ~,orld they h, ave~qot suffici,ently di~tinguishe.d legitimate openness to the world from a secularization of the Church by the world: From time to time there has also been a lack of the~discernment of spir-' its, with~the failure to correctly distinguish between a legitimate open-ness of the council to the world and ~the acceptance of a secularized ¯ world's mentality and order of~values, . . . An easy accommodation that could lead to the secularizmion of the Church is to be excluded. /(ls0 excluded is an immobile closing in upon itself of the community of the faithful. Affirmed instead is a'missionary openness for the inte-gral salvation of the wo~ld.21 ~ Part of the problem has been the Church's eagerness to,enter the social arena with calls for social justice. While it is vital to the Church to em-phasize ~an active concern for social issues, the Church's concern for these issues should not become so great that it loses sight of .the fact that its deepest life is lived in "mystery" as the Church o_f God, and that the Church is ultimately made,up of the community"of the redeemed in Christ serving his mission of salvation: The primary mission of the Church, under the impulse of the Holy Spirit, is to preach and to witness to the good and joyftil news of the election, the mercy and the charity of God which manifest themselves in salvation history, which through Jesus Christ reach their culmination in the fullness of time and which communicate and offer salvation to man by virtue of the Holy Spir.it. Christ is,the light of humanity. The Church, proclaiming the Gospel, must see to it that this light clearly shines out from her.countenance (ibid., p. 446). Social activism without that sacral 'dimension risks becoming purely secu-lar and human; such activity is totallymconsistent with the life of the Church, however good such acti~ism might otherwise be. To the extent that secularization in its various forms has happened in theChurch since Vatican II, something.inconsistent with what the Church should be arisen .in the community. To restore, a proper~balance, the Church .needs.to'reaffirm the primacy of its religious commitment, and to let that commitment shine before the Four, ,Ecclesial Problems, world.Only.,in the clarity of that commitment conveyed to the.world through its members is it able to seek effective ways of changing the world. These in turn must see themselves as having a primary mission to prove to the world the validityof the sacra~l o trranscendent dimen-sion of life as conveyed in the mission of Chrisi. ~n this respecti0ne not ov~erestimate the importance of Vatican II's and' the s~,nod's ne~ly developed and reaffirmed theology 6f the~ laity~ by Which thdrole of the laity in the.promotion of Christian and human values in.,the wo~ld is heightened ai~d theologically validated. Christians need also to find a way to counte~ract, the.increasing intru-sion ~of the power of the secul.ar into their. 9wn lives. To my mind, there is.no ,way for the Church more dramatically and decisively to restore the primacy, of the faith experience to Christian diving than emphatically to reassert its importance in the personal commi,tment to Christ. The "pas-sion"-, for Christ and the commitme~.t, to God's plan for the world in Christ .have too often been put on the back burner as we enter into the discussion of the problems of the world and seek to resolve them from within, using the naturalistic and,humanistic standards and instruments of action the world is often quite willing at least in,the~i~y to accept. But these are not enough for the Church. We must once again~become "p.as-sionately" committed to Christ and his purposes, and openly manifest to the world that it is primarily these for ~tii~h we stand, If the transcendent dimension, to life is rea!ly crucial to the well-being of the world and~therefore must bepreserved, it will have to come from deeply religiously-committed Christians. For them to be found in any great number, however, a new zeal for Christ and his purposes must be restored. The Church, and especi.ally its leaders both lay and religious, have no greater challenge today. Whether the zeal. necessary to restore the sense of the religious dimension to life in the,world chn be found, however, is not easily answered. Somehow we Christians shall have to enter more deeply into Ourselves, to find out if we really, share strongly a commitment tO Christ and his visi0fi °of the world and ~re willirig to make ~the sacrifices demanded o~°us as we enter into /~ ~riaarketplace al-ready increasingly intolerant of his vie~. W~"shall not~have the impact necessary to the success of the Christian vision merely,, by exporting Chris-tian values in a secularized form. The world does not need to know there is a need for justice nearly so much as it needs t6 kno.w that justice is a dimension of the faith experience in Christ.To seek to alleviate the cries of the poor in social action is really~not the, Christian~mission; rather, our mission is to bring to the poor the vision of~hrist, con- Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 sciously known and passionately calling all people to a commitment to him and to the consequences of that commitment in a life of faith and service. Innovation vs. Traditi6n Th~re is a second, inner-Church conflict to be resolved: between the new and the _old, between innovatidn and tradition. Vatic~'n II met at a crucial point in the life of the Church, when Catho-lic liberal~ were calling for reform while the conservatives wanted to stand by tradition. The bishops who came together represented both view-points. In the final documents they deliberately attempted ~ to draw to- . gether elements from th~ thinking 6f both. camps, hoping to blend their opposing viewpoints.enough to satisfy the desires of each. Apparently both sides were willing to accept compromise. Both also recognized that total consistency was impossible at that time there was simply not enough time to work out the niceties of perfect harmonization, nor was it necessarily desirable. It surely"was expected that the ongoing life of the Church, especially in the work of the theologians under the direc-tion of the bishbps, would work out any incongruities or inconsistencies in thought or prac'tice that ~ight be left over from the Council. And so the Council ended. But as one reporter put it: Yet the Counci'l's efforts to assimilate modernity and still be true to a 2000-year tradition also created the potential for vast misunderstanding. The Council called upon the Church to uphold, simultaneously, freedom and orthodoxy, culturalopenness and identity, change and continuity, modernity and tradition, hierarchy and participation. That is a tall or-der. 22 Avery Dulles, S.J~,.,asks the question that emphasizes the inevitability of the p~:o.b_lem.: Can a Church that simul.taneously moves in thes~ contradictory direc-tions. keep enough homogeneit~y to remain a single social body? . . . Can the Church adopt new symbols, languages, structures and behav-ioral patte .ms 6n a massive scale without losing continuity with its own origins and its ow.n pa~t? (ib!d.) Any break from tradition for any organization necessarily leads to con-fusion. But this would have been a problem even more for the Catholic Church because the break was so abrupt.and deep. Before the Council, many Catholics had~ accepted ex.aggerated acquiescence to unchange as a theological truism, with little or no sense of the role_of history in. the formation'of dogma and Church practice: Because all Church statements Four Ecclesial Problems / I~11 hadotended to be regarded as dogma unquestioningly to be accepted, obe-diential deference to authority was orthodox; freedom ofthbught, unor-thodox independence. Suddenly, after Vatican II, what had been consid-ered un-Catholic was espoused as good Catholicism. Whereas acceptance of lohg-standing traditions was the n~irm for acceptableoCatholic living prior to Vatican II.; now freedom of thought and openness to new ideas and individual conscience became acceptable. This break with tradition, l~owever, was not simply a break from the old frr the neff, but a rever-sal from standards recognizing something as unacceptable to standards recognizing the same as acceptable and even desirable.,Thus ~0nfusion, disagreement, and fallout were inevitable. Also, it is inevitable t'h~t all this leads to a deeper question: what does it mean to be a Catholic and to have the faith? ' There i~ no doubt a wide spectrum of viewpoints regarding'the theo-logica! role of innovatiori vs. that of tradition, and What, if any, the proper combination ofothe two might be. But in certain areas there is cr'rn~ mon consensus and in other areas a lack of consehsus. There is growing consensus that the break with past traditions ~vas too abrupt and that there is a ;need,to retui'n to some past symbols an'd traditions withou~ renouncing everything new. At the time of the Ameri-can bicentennial, John Coleman, S.J., called for an ""open-ended re-sourcement," a dialogue or "creative engageme,nt" between the tradi-tional Catholic sYmbols and new ones that wouldopen up. or adapt to "new purposes, experiences and questions" in an integrating "process of g~:owth."23 More recently, Greeley has also called for a return to the "experience~' and-"imagination" .ofoour "Catholic her!tage" so re-cently abandoned as either irrelevant or impeding ecumenism or incom-patible with the modem world. Greeley understands Catholicism .to,stress the "sacramental" presence of the divine in Christian living, and says that this sacramental "religious style" should now be recognized as of the "essence" of the Catholic "insight," andan invaluable feature of the Catholic approach to religio.n.24 ,~There is growing consensus that there is widespread ignorance of the fundamental teachings of Christianity, especially among Xhe young, and that the problem must be addressed quickly. In an effort ~to make Chris-tianityrelevant to our lives, we shifted too quickly from the rigorous for-malism of the catechism and the memorization of. its teachings to dia-log'oe about the lived experience of the faith. What we lost was a solid understanding of what that faith believed, What is called for today is not necessarily the catechism method, but wtiatever method(s) may be nec- Review for Religiousl November-December, 1987 essary .to restore'to its rightful place knowledg6 about the history of sal-vation in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. A common foun-dation'in,, faith teachings may make it. possible to fost.er conviction, com-mitment, and action. ~ There is lack of consensus on the role of authority in the Church; on the role of the clergy, as well as the Church itself, in social and political activity; and on the degree of freedom to be allowed to personal con-scienc.~ e, espec,ially in matters that do not pe~ain directly to formal dogma in the Church, such 9s moral theology and mattgrs of sex. However rig-orous! y.~,~.ne might uphold the tea, chings of the Church on artificial c~?n7 tracept~ion., few would consider the Church's teachings on the matter as infallibly proclaimed. If that is the case, what degree of disagreement. o if any, is per.missible? In such cases, how much room i~ to be given for private conscience, or for public teaching not fully in accord with offi-cial pronouncements of the Church? VatiEan II clearly gave great weight tO~the right of personal conscience and to scholhrsh!p regarding nonin-fallible teachings, but how far did it intend these°rights'to go? Innova-tors tend toward absolute freedom on noninfallible teachings, traditioii'- ~lists° toward compliance even there. Thes.e,ideologica! disagreements cofistitute adeep source of divisioff in the Chi~rch .today, and represent today's ~xperience of what it means wheri the old clashes with the new~ The Church has yet to come up with a~th~blogy thgt can provid6 an adequate e~clesiology to handle this prob- Compatibility Vs~ Contradiction with,,the World ° There is a third ,problem not adequately resolved by Vatican II; which returns once again to'th~e:relationship of the Church to the world: the prob-lem between compatibility of.the Church with the world ~ahd contradic-tian with it? Prior to VatiEan II, the Church had never published an official docu-ment expounding,a posiiive theology on the'r01e of the Church,-in the world. Traditionally, the world had been an arena of evil or temptation to evil. ISatholics were urged to.remove themselves from the.world if they wished to ,attain sanctity, and the priestly and religious life were com-monly acceptrd as means to that end. Those who needed to become, in: volved in the Wodd;~choosing to remain laypersons,' were allowed to ~be in the world, but .were expected to' be as unworldly as possible in0the midst of the world: Evefi though Christians learned very well how to, live in~ the world by accepting ,itk ~,alues,~ and acquired the world ~s commodi-ties as instruments of well-being and standards of0success,.this accom- Four Ecclesial Problems modi~tion was often done with a feeling of guilt. That the world Was bad was based on the clear teaching of Christ: his followers did~not belong to the world, the world hated the'm, Christ did not take them out,of the wbi'ld but asked the"Father to "guard them from the evil one" in' the world (Jn 17:14-15) until they would one day be united with the Father in heaveh. ~ Now with Vatican II, the Church turned toward the world and, in many ways, accepted th~ world for the first time. Th6 Council Asserted the Church's "sOlidarity with the entire human family," that "nothing genuinely human" is foreign to Christians, that the "joys and the hopes, the griefs hn~l the anxieties of the men of this are" are those of the fol-lowers ofChrist too (LG 1-3). The Council urged Christians to build up the world because "the triumphs of the human race are a sign of God's greatness dnd the flowering of His own haysterious design" (34). In a remarkable affirmation of the value of secular activity, the Cou0cil "ac-knowledges that human progress can serve man's true happiness" (37) and that, insofar as "Earthly progress., can contribute to~the better ordering of human society, it is of vital concern to the kingdom of God" (39). The Council admits~ the world can be "an instrument of sin" and that a "monumental struggle against the power of darkness pervades the whole history of man" (37). Nevertheless, when all is said and done, the emphasis is clearly optimistic--so much so that, when~Karl Barth came back from his visit to Rome during the Council's first session, he expressed a fear the bishops were bbcoming too optimistically oriented toward the World and suggested they take a miare guarded position. And so the question remains: Is the world a good thing, to be ac-cepted and integrated inio the life of the Christian, or isqt to be rejected because it is infected with sin? The Council urged both; 6f course, but failed to indicate how both were possible, or how and where to draw the line limitinginvolvement~: More importantly, however, the new spirit bf the Coiancil had clearly left the impression that theworld a's a whole had been sanctioned as a .giaod thing :and that, with Christian and human co-operation and goodwill, there ~vas no reason why the Church and'the World could not easily become assimilated to each other. The question ofqntegration into the life of the world versus opposi-tion trthe world in favor of Christian values'is not a re'rent one. As.Ger-main Gri~ez recently pointed out, much of the history of Christianity can be seen in terms of a "tension between legitimate ~ispirations frr human and this-worldly fulfillment and God's c~ll to divine and everlasting life.'" Depending upon the emphasis that is greater at any 0h~ torment Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 in Christian thinking, the tendency may be to emphasize "disrespect for the 'merely,' human" and emphasize fulfillment in God, or, as seems to be. happening ~toda);, to emphasize a reaction against other-worldly spiri-tuality, a reaction which has '~crystal!ized into various forms of secular humanism." VaticanlI failed to take a stand on this issue, according to Grisez, or more precisely, not knowing how to resolve the tensign be-tween the two tendencies, glossed over them "with ambiguous formu-las." Instead of acknowledging their inability to resolve the problem and implementing a postconciliar process to work on it, the Council Fathers, caught up themselves in the spirit of optimism generated by John XXIII, chose to try to "maintain ,the appearance of unity" and solidarity on this issue and departed. Afterwards, liberals and conservatives began to read in the documents exactly what each had been looking for and ignoring the. opposite, and used whatever political means were available to have their own position dominate. The need now, according to Grisez, is to face up, to the divisions and try to resolve them.25 Others have stressed very pointedly that the orientation of the world today is strongly toward values quite inconsistent with Christian values. The world today is bombarded by powerful influences from the media, which emphasize for commercial purposes a humanism void of religious direction, which preach success in terms of materialistic values and goals such as accumulation of power and money, which proclaim fulfillment of self in terms of satisfaction of sexual drives rather than in love as per-manent commitment to the other, which evaluate persons in terms of utili-tarian norms, whiCh promote personal satisfaction as the criterion for the worth of all activity, which make the ultimate goal of life the achieve-ment of self rather than the donation of self. In such a ,world, there is inevitable contradiction between the values of the world and those of the Christian faith experience, where personal communion with Christ in a community of believers serving the well-being of all is. the standard of value. The humanistic orientation of a world without religious direction risks becoming ultimately a purely worldly humanism antagonistic to Christian values. For many, the opposition is so great at the .present time that, it seems to be moving toward total and absolute contradiction of the values of Christ. The Council Fathers, in recognizing the need to open the Church to the world, did not indicate strongly enough the nature or degree of this opposition, although it must be admitted 'that, even when they did indicate opposition, their words were largely ignored. But ~as Grisez indicates, the opposition is there and must.be faced. By failing to indicate strongly enough the contradiction between the values of the Four Ecclesial Problems / I~15 world and those of Christ, the Council Fathers unwittingly made accom-modation with the ways of the world that much easier. It is that accom-modation that the Extraordinary Synod of 1985 began totry to correct, but a clear theology of contradiction, is still needed. Active vs. Passive Church Life The last root cause of the problems left by Vatican II may be ex-plained in terms of Vatican II's failure to resolve the conflict between the active and passive dimensions of Christian life. A new spirit of involvement in social and political action, as we have seen, had been emphasized by the Council as an element intrinsic to the life of the Church. This spirit was highly attractive for many reasons: It was new and new things tend to attract; it was optimistic and people tend to like optimism; it was a free and open spirit cgnsequent upon the new theology of the laity, and .more appealing than the more traditional litur-gical and doctrinal elements in Vatican II; it spoke to a strong desire in the '60's to become actively involved in the processes of history rather ttrhaanns ftoor macaqtuioiens ocfe tihne twheomrld; itth naot tw oansl~y h purmovaindlyed e nthgeinoereertiecda,bl usut palpsoor jtu fsotir- a fied it as providing greater fulfillment of the human potential. In all these ways, this new element of "activism" contra~ted so much with the traditional call for restraint on involvement, and spoke di-rectly to many Catholics who were interested in joining the world in a combined divine-human creative.proje.ct. These were delighted to find there was theological justification and ecclesial approval for using one's talents in such a project. Personal involvement and responsibility for cre-ating one's own life in the world spoke more readily to the post-Vatican II age.than acquiescence in the decisions, actions, and authority of oth-ers. At least in the '60's, the mentality of the outspoken members of the Church was increasingly liberal, and the .idea of creating one's future rather than submitting to it was especially appealing to them. Vatican II sanctioned these ideas. It emphasized the theological importance of life in the world and active involvement in the cause of justice and equality, and was to give rise to a dominance after Vatican II of theological move-ments that stressed that same type of involvement. The Church was now also in a position to accept many currents rising in western Protestant cir-cles, such as the new theology of hope and political theology, the theol-ogy of revolution, and finally, in Catholic circles in South American, lib-eration theology. By emphasizing active involvement in creative transformation of the worid, Vatican II unfortunately seemed to downgrade th'e old and less Review for Rel~gious,~ November-December, 1987 captivating styles of spirituality, such as personal prayer, contemplation, and spiritual communion with God alone and in the quiet of one's room. It became increasingly difficult in modern Catholicism to justify a spiri-tual dimension to !ife unless it was translated into active change of the world. Spiritual terminology began to take on a purely active meaning: prayer, commitment to Christ, concern for the salvation of human be-ings '~ all these meant to be in active involvement in the world. Monas-tic theology and asceticism .were seriously questioned, for how could any-one iustify removing on~eself from the world when the only important thing wffs to change the world for the better? Those who dared to speak of contemplatio~n or asceticism in tli'e more traditional ways were often seen as outdated and to be pitied for their archaic ways. The new theol-ogy of spiritual activism slowly took over contrbl of the major or-ganizations in the Church: religious orders, diocesan and parish coun-cils, and other Catholic agencies~' and a new theology of social and po-litical activism translating most or all of Catholic spirituality into causes for peace and justice in the world held sway, The few who dared to criti- "cize these movements as one-sided were ignored. Ct~riously; the more this ~ctivism was promoted as the new and en-lightened foi:m of Christian living, the ~ore vocations to the priestly and religious life went down. The major exception to this trend~was in relig-ious orders, especially of nuns, where the stress On traditional piety was retained--here vocations continued to ~rise or remain stable. But few dared to suggest that this validated'in any way maintaining some room for more traditional contemplative and other-worldly forms of spiritual-ity. " Only recent!y has' it begun to dawn on many that activism without passivism is un-Christian. A spirituality that is t~otally activated tod, ard htlman creation of the world is inconsistent with Christian teaching, which, while s![essing human~involvement in God's creation 6f the king-dom; stresses even more that we are ~saved bec~iuse we have been saved in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We receive God,s kingdom far more than we create it. If that is the case, a Christian spirituality of ascetical contemplation is important to the Church because it lives as well as symbolizes the importance of this pass.!ve involvement in God's crea-tive process. Coleman ohce wrote: It is helpful to consider some of the cultural paradoxes in contemporary American Catholicism. In a nation n6ted for its one-sided, if not patho-logical, emphasis on activism, instrumental rationality, and opt'imistic pragmatism,, Catholic intellectuals seem to have suffered a bout of am- Four Ecclesial Problems nesia about their classic wisdom concerning contemplation, mysticism, pas.sivity, and receptive acceptance of inevitable and unavoidable lim-its. The Church. in its American incarnation has become almost ex-clusively masculine, with dominant concerns for action, success, build-ing the new e~trth and results (Coleman, p. 553). Christopher Mooney, S.J., argues that in America God rather than hu-man beings was always understood as "the power of our future," the one "from whom the nation had received its mission," and the one "~who works through the structures of society and manifests himself in publi~ affairs." Without that emphasis upon the centrality of God in his-tory, America will lose its sense of destiny.26 Dulles gives personal sup-port to those who argue that "the Kingdom of God is viewed in the New Testament as God's work, not man's," that the Church "is seen as ex-isting for the glory of God and of Christ, and for the salvation of its mem-bers in a life beyond the grave," and that in the New Testarfient it "is not suggested that it is the Church's task to make the world a better place to live in."27 Harvey Egan, S.J., argues that Christians today face "the serious temptation of worsh.iping political pressure groups, causes, move-ments, slogans, and ideo]ogies," and that their social involvement "de-generates into 'pseudo-activism' " unless it is built upon "authentic in-ner freedom, contemplative peace'; spiritual insight, the love born from prayer, integration, and inner transforrnati6n."28 " What we are asserting, then, is that Vatican II, in its effort to sanc-tion involvement in the life of the world as a legitimate dimensio~ of Christian living, unwittingly tended to downgrade the more contempla-tive, prayerful dimension of'Christian and Catholic spirituality. To that extent, Vatican II opened the doors too widely toward the world and pro-vided a gateway to the development of a secular humanism in contem-porary Catholic life. " Christian humanism without.a strong"spiritual foundation in a prayer-ful dependence upon God and his revelation in Jesus Christ is inevitably doomed to secularism. Once that stage is attained, it is inevitable that Christians begin to question whether there is any valid distinction be-tween Christianity and secular ac.tivism; andsince, once this aberration sets in, there is no real distinction between the two, it is only natural that many Christians find the faith experience unrewarding. It is only in the strength given Christianity by its passive dimension that its activist di-mension has any purpose or will to endure. Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 Conclusibn We have argued that at least in these four ways Vatican II left us a spirituality that is ambiguous, in conflict with itself, and undirected. This may indeed have been the Council's intention." To some extent, the Ex-traordinary Synod of 1985 served a valuable purpose in attempting to rec-tify these imbalances and ambiguities. It took twenty-five years to real-ize the bad effects and what needed to be corrected. Nevertheless, the ambivalences we have itemized .still reside in the Church and account for much of the conservative-liberal polarization of today. The next stage will be for the Church to reconvene and resolve the ambiguities. It will be an amazing and groundbreaking Council when it does. NOTES I "Vatican II and the Postconciliar Era in the U.S. Church," Origins 15, 15 (Sep-tember 26, 1985), pp. 225,233. 2 Vivian W. Dudro, "Toward the Synod: General Praise, Some Criticism of Malone Report," National Catholic Register 61, 39 (September 29, 1985), pp. l, 8. The reporter make~ reference to an expression used by Gerrnain Grisez, Professor of Chris-tian Ethics at Mount St. Mary's College, Emmitsburg, MD. 3 Joseph Cardinal RatZinger with Vittorio Messori, The Ratzinger Report (San Fran-cisco: Ignatius, 1985), pp. 44, 55, 71, 74, 83, 62, 29-30. '~ In "The Catholic Priesthood," Overview 19, 10 (undated [August 1985]), p. I, citing a report in NFPC:News Notes, March 1984. aA Overview, May. 1985, p. 1. 5 Overview, June 1985, p. 1, citing a report in New ~'ork Times December 9, 1984. 6 Ibid., p. 2. The 'article was in National ReviewS" November 25, 1983. 7 Overview, May 1985, p. 5. Herr is citing an article by Mary K. Tilghman in The Catholic Review of March 20, 1985. The words are Tilghman's except for the quo-tation from Schoenherr on the "?rganizational crisis." 8 Ibid., p, 6. 9 Ibid., p. 3. 10 Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents of Vatican II (New York: Guild, 1966): "Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modem World" or Gaudium et spes sec. 4 and 5; hereafter, Latin titles used and noted in text. i1 Thomas More, 1979. 12 Paulist, 1975. 13 Harper & Row, 1973, p. 71. 14 Doubleday, 1977, p. 12. 15 Paulist, 1972, citing an article he wrote as early as 1967. ' 16 Greeley's first controversial conclusions were published in Catholic Schools in a Declining Church, with William C. McCready and Kathleen McCourt (Kansas City: Sheed & Ward, 1976); his latest is American Catholics Since the Council: An Un-authorized Report (Chicago: Thomas More, 1985). 17 Gallup publishes yearly reports on Religion in Americh, and has just completed (with Jim Castelli) The American Catholic People: Their Beliefs, Practices, and Val-ues (Garden City: Doubleday, 1987). Four Ecclesial Problems 18 Eight reports from this invaluable study of "core Catholic" parishioners' think-ing and practices hav~ been published so far, appearing in Origins from December 27, 1984, to August 28, 1986. 19 In Justice in the Marketplace: Collected Statements of the Vatican and the U.S. Catholic Bishops on Economic Policy, 1891-1984, David M. Byers, ed. (Washing-ton, DC: NCCB/USCC, 1985), pp. 249-250. 20 Quest for Justice: A Compendium. , J. Brian Benestad and Francis J. Butler, eds. (Washington, DC: NCCB/USCC, 1981), pp. v-vi. 21 Synod of Bishops: "The Final Report," Origins 15, 27 (December 19, 1985), pp. 445,449. 22 E. J. Dionne, Jr., "The Pope's Guardian of Orthodoxy," New York Times Maga-zine, November 24, 1985, p. 45. 23 John A, Coleman, S.J., "American Bicentennial, Catholic Crisis," America, June 26, 1976, p. 553. 24 Andrew M. Greeley and Mary Greeley Durkin, How to Save the Catholic Church (New York: Viking, 1984), pp. xviii-xix, 35, passim. 25 Germain and Jeannette Grisez, "Conservatives, liberals duel over leaking barque," National Catholic Reporter 22, 5 (November 22, 1985), p. 14. 26 Christopher F. Mooney, S.J., Religion and the American Dream: The Search for Freedom under God (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1977), pp. 35-36. 27 Avery Dulles, S.J., Models of the Church (Garden City: Doubleday, 1974), pp. 94-95. 28 Harvey D~ Egan, S.J., Christian Mysticism: The Future of a Tradition (New York: Pueblo, 1984), p. 234. The Autumn Years: A Touch of God Joseph M. McCloskey, "S.J., and M. Paulette Doyas, S.S.N.D. Father McCloskey is Director of Shalom House-Retreat Center; P.O. Box 196; Montpelier, Virginia 23192. Sigier Paulette teaches at the College of Notre Dame; 4710 N. Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21210. Autumn colors stimulate our aesthetic sense. Leaves grown old are beau-tiful to behold, a truth of creation that gives dying its own color. In, our later years our activities are like autumn leaves before they fall to the ground; each one is a jewel in our crown, worn with pride but sometimes hard to see against the perspective of a cold winter. Winter follows autumn; it is the winter we fear. Winter allows us to view the forest of our lives without being lost. in details. The forest stripped of its foliage, our lives are open to scrutiny; unencumbered by duties, we have the chance to really see ourselves. But autumn, with its warnings of dying, allOws us to look at winter with a hope of new birth. Autumn brings a special brand of happiness which belongs to God and is worth reflecting upon. Our autumn years do not have to be unhappy ones if we appreci-ate the meaning of our lives. No one likes to think about growing older, yet the truth is, we have been aging since conception. There is no es-caping autumn; growing older can bring colorful changes into our lives even if we must yield to a certain amount of inactivity. Love frees the spirit. Alienation brings loss of heart and dims our ap-preciation of life. Passion for life belongs to love, yet the passion for life wanes and we yearn for something more when we feel ourselves no longer needed. The mid-life crisis is a taste of what is to come as we ex-perience doubts about our work and what we have been doing with our lives. Glory, honor, and power are perpetual temptations of life, even when we are not sure just what it is we want. We struggle to hold on 820 The Autumn Years / 821 t~J the possibility and potential of doing something wonderful. As We be-come tired of trying to'h61d on and despair cofifronts us, we finally real-ize that life has-a meaning--being in God. "When we finfilly face the meaning of life, the idea of sitting on a porch watc.hing the rest of the world go by.does not have to seem terri-ble. The autumn years are su~ounded by the storms of others' activities and the job still gets done even when we are no longer bearing the brunt of the heat of the-day. As 'we watch the jobget done, we cab laugh at ourselves for all the times we pictured ours61ves as indispensable. We db not have to identify who we are by what we do. We identify ourselves by not doing; we may be retired. The constant round of activities which ful~d Our lives'belongs to those who follow. ~The fruitful year~ of.prbd~ictio~ ~nd hyp~'activity seem unreal as we watch them'in others.The mystic in life touches us; we watch, like con-templatives in prayer sitting on our autumn veranda, the storm of God's love come up in the for.m~ 6f others' work. God bring.s beauty into our lives as we appreciate what others Ho. 'People need our affirmation a~ad appreciation. L'ife is not over because wecan no longer do, it is just be-ginning. Today is the first_day of the rest of our lives, no matter how old we are. Traumatized by thoughts of our past, we can miss the colors of now. Anxious ,about tomorrow, we are sometimes only half present to what we are dbing. E~;en as yesterday can dampen our enthusiasm in what w~ are doing, anxiety over tomorrow can keep us from being fullyi.nvolved now. We live in an age of. activity and our .minds resemble motor boats, chugging noisily over the wavesof what must be done. There has to be a po.int where we cut the m0tor, give up the noises we make, and just glide, delighting in the freedom of knowing that our work may be almost finished. As we grow older, spirituality can give meaning to the lessen-ing activity in our lives. Slowing down without feeling worthless is what spirituality can help us.do.,No ~matter how old we are, idleness can threaten self-worth. We become :victims ,of our own doing, as thoughts of What we could, do to make our lives worthwhile prod us to keep go-ir~ g: "If we stop, that magic momentof doing something great may be missed." Pushing ourselves t6 exhaustion, we do not have time for our-selves now. We fail to apigreciate what we are right now. Unusual are the autumn souls, really alive t6dayin the richness of yesterday's expe-rience, y6t still open to tomorrow's vision of life with new meaning. Many still search for the secret of iife--f6und in living wholeheartedly 822/Review for Religious, Novemb.er-December, 1987 the fullness of now--in some nebulous fountain of youthful actiyity. We need to open ourselves up to'where we are and who we are right now. Spirituality's ultimate goal consists in seeing God face to face. This means "being" with God. All of life, everything we have ever done, everything we have ever been, is a preparation.that we might "be." Be-ing does not imply vegetating. There is a responsibility to b~ for one an-other attached to being for Christ. Whatever. we do for the least one of our brothers or sisters, even when we are not aware of doing it for Christ, is accepted by, him as bei.ng done for himself. In identifying himself as the "I am who I am" God, God reveals himself as reachable in the here and now. The only moment in time truly real is now, touching the "Eternal Now." Living in the now, for even a moment of time, garners those nows of life when we opened our hearts to being loved. These moments become sacramental. We live the "Sac-rament of the Present Moment." 'There are seven sacraments that the Church recognizes as special moments in life where Christ wants to be present in our lives and is giving himself. In these sacraments of the Church, Christ does the work. In the sacrament of the present moment we can make a moment sacramental by our ~illingness tb make Christ present frr each otlaer.° Living in the present, with what good there is, frees us of what anchors us to the past. Because it only takes a moment to love for a lifetime, we have tliE poss!bility of being Christ lovers by giving of who we are to the least person we meet, in any moment of our lives. We are children of the Father. God takes us as his own because we are precious to him. The Psalms tell tls that.: "Before you were born, I knew you!" (Ps 139). We are loved because Of who we are even be-fore we had accomplishments to boast of. Saint Paul teaches us in Ephe-sians 1 : 1-13 that God' s love is deserved in the goodness of Christ. Christ is our Way and our Truth and our.Life. Saint John's first epistle on Love teaches us that .all of life is a preparation for the opening of our hearts, now, to the fullness of the Lord of Life coming into our hearts. All of life is a preparation for this very moment We are living! Wisdom brings knowledge of how to live in God's love, and the contemplative in action lives in God's love by letting God ,work one hundred percent. Doing in God's love becomes being in his love. What becomes of paramount im-portance is how much love we.can accept in Christ, and how much Christ we live for God and each other in return. ~ Being does not happen jus.t because we are old enough. Incapacita-tion is always a possibility when being is thrust upon us. Being is maxi- The Autumn Years mized by freedom and life, but a lot of dying has to take place in each of us before we are really free to love for the sake of Christ. Growing older is part of tile stripping process of b~coming free to let God do all he can in our hearts. Love needs time to mature. The Church says of the young saints that they fulfilled a long life in a short time, so that even th~ child saint can be old when considering years spent on earth. It only take~ a moment to love for a lifetime, andthe meaning of the greatest love of all is giving of one's life for the sake of a ne.ighbor. Giving can be done by being for another. If we think we can do things for ourselves alone, our whole life is wasted. Being in the autumn years can become adoing for others. Being is knowing how to love. Love is being present to the need of another ffhich sometimes in-volves pain. As humans, we would rather bypass the cross and get right to the resurrection. But we are unrealistic if we think the resurrection is possible without,the crucifixion. There can be no spring without the autumn and the winter. Resurrection portrays Christ reaching out to the hurt and pain of his disciples. Christ is our holiness, and the fruitfulhess of our lives in Christis found in how much of Christ's death we are will-ing to accept forbthers. The ultimate, decisive word of God, in the hu-manness of Christ, is Christ's dying on the cro~s. His suffering gives ~m~aning to our pains and our dying even When we do not relate it to our autumn years. Everything we did or woul~t have liked to do becomes as nothing in the light of Christ's suffering and death. He took care of it all. The ultimate, decisive word of God, sp6ken in the humannness of Christ, comes to us in his d~athon the cross. Counselors and sigiritual directors bften meet couples whose mar-riages have revolved around doing'for their offspring, and who now'com-plain about lack of meaning to their lives with'6ut~ their children. After the childi-en are growr~ and off on their own, these pai'ents have not learned how to accept each other, to be with each other. Many priests and religious brothers and sisters have the same problem. So many years found them in their work that they never learned to enjoy each other. So intense was the doing, the~ never discovered the secret of being, for them-selves or others. They ~vere all so busy doing in the spring and summer of their lives that they gave n~o thought to the autumn and winter that had to follow--when doing became more difficult. Working at accomplishing something involves the danger of making doing the meaning of life. The need of another opens our lives to the rush of the Spirit filling us with God's love. The second comings of the Spirit to the Church are pe6ple filled with love who reach out with their gifts 1~24 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 to the needs of others. The problem is no~ whether we did enough in our lifeti~ae, but whether we did~:.what we di~l-~vith love. We may complain that we have never had any.thing werth doing. Ye't each time we moan about not being satisfied with what we have done, or regret not hax~ing done enough, always w~tnting to do more with our liyes, we limit our love of God to wh~t.we are ci6ing noV, rather than bringing all we have done in our lives t~ ~,hat we do. Life teaches us toAive in God's love. We do not deserve God's love, but we can accept it. We waste love, think-ing of all we could have done or w, ould~have liked to d~o.~God.'s love frees us to giv~ ourselves.~ It brings the wisdom whichohelps us to ,put aside our accomplishments or hopes of achieveme.nt, and opens our hearts to be filled with God's love in Christ. The awareness of Christ in our lives frees us to live in the Father's love. ~ The victory won by:Christ when he "took captivity._captive," when he took away the scandal attached t6 our suffering and dying; allows us share in the resurrection when we take up our crosses and follow him. Christ calls us in our inadequacies, our brokenness, our nakedness, our need of others, to be part of the resurrection by claimiong~the foothold in heaven we have in him. Our needs bring Christ into our lives. We be-come other Christs by.-lett!ng him do in our live~s. Growing older ih a world with so many younger,~people frees us to be.in their love, even as we learn to be in God's love. If we were.really and truly competent enough to do it all by ourselves, we would never~ need God. Needing God and other's allows our captiyity to-be taken cal~tive by ~hrist. Aristotle, the great philosopher and teacher-some centuries before Christ, said that. a person could become a philosopher only after forty years of age. It is only When we have enough .experience of life that we begin to find the meaning of life, 19v.e, and values which have to do with being rather than doing. All of life's acc6mplishments are insignificant if we are unable to be in the love of God., if we are unable to be in the love of our brothers and sisters around us. Loye is God's relationship to us, and theGod Who gives all in our lives receives it back When we are able to offer our lives in Christ, when we try to be his life by our love for each other. We are called to be lov- ~ers. Even as the doing of our early years is the beginning of love, it is in the need for each other of our autumn years that love is completed, the love which allows us to~be in the f~ullness of Ch,r!st who lives.Eithin us. Our world needs us and we. should be proud to be aging ,in God's love, .basking in the autumn .years of life, content to be in his love for the sake of all who are still able to do'in his love. We are now like th'e " .,Th~ Autumn Years / 825 Eternal Word of the Trinity, always receiving from the F~ther, even as we are"i'eceiving from others who love us. We are created iri the image and likeness of the God who is Trinity. Trinity has its counterpoini in the mystery of indwelling, where G6d is found in the still point of our lives. Family and community are the outer reaches of this m~yst~ry of indwelling where God lives in the love of our hear~sl and in how we reach out to our brothers and sisters. We are told bY the first commandment of life to love God. We would not know how to do this if Christ had not told us he lok, ed us just as the Father loves him. Christ asks us to live in'his l~v~e, and tells us we love him by keep-ing the commandments which show us the ways we ~hould devil with one another and God. Faithfulness to the commandments is faithfulness to one another. How can ~ve lov~ the God we do not see, if we do not love the neighbo~ we do see? God' is love and we live in his lo~ve in the way we love 0n~ another. Wherever there is. ipve, G~I is. Lo~,e calls us to be like the G~d we image and brings us into commu.nity a~ men and women 6reated to lok, e 6ne another. Spirff~al life can be traced_back to T~rinity: in':-TTinit~,, being and do- !ng meet in the total giving and receiving,of the Father and th6 Son. The Father holds b~ck nothing of himself. The S,on, totally receiving of th~ Father, has nothing the Father has not given him. All of life i~ a combi-nation of these two forces, the active and passive 0"f life. The principles of life find in Trinity the °meaning and the sourceof love. Even if we have spent a. life totally, giv, ing all we are in order that the mystery of the Trinity m_ay be comple.ted in us, the autumn of our lives finds meaning in rec~eiving./~s the child needs parents to grow, so too we grow in those moments when our heart~ need each other. We ac-cept the richness o~each otl~r'~/~ifts when we are willing to need one another from the depths of our being.Then the beauty of life finds the special expression of th6oTrinity completed in the giving and~:eceiving which touches Being, and that very_ being i's love. Love is God's, relatioriShip ~to us, '~n.d the God whb gives ~11 lives in our lov~ when w~ are able,t0 ~J.ffer bin: lives in Ch~rist;.wfien ~.t~ry to live his life by our love for each other. We are called to be lovers. But most of all we are c~lled to be loved in Christ. Autumn years bring the kisses and the embraces of our.,Lord which are felt even in the hurts and the pains of our body's resistance to the call of our Lord .to our eternal reward. The warnings of sufferings do not have to be a threat, in our hope of the resurrection, as a lifetime of love and work in response to the call of God's love claims relationship to Christ. Our pains in letting Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 go of our work,:and our good health bear relationship to the ultimate word of God's love in the passion and death of Jesus Christ and offer the love of God in the resurrection. Even as the dping of our early years is the beginnin.g of love, the letting go of the autumn years completes our love as we feel the need for God and each other. The Christ who is in the least one of otir brothers and sisters is now in us, allowing us to be Christ in our need. We become the Christ to whom we have given hll our life, as all~the good we have done for others comes back upon us. Our world awaits a generation of people proud to be'aging in-his love, basking in the warmth of love which ~omes their way in the autumn of life. Mary is the ultimate model of being for Christ, being for God. She accompan'i~d the Church of theresurre6tibn by being present to their needs and helping them to remember her Son in the many ways of a mother's love, as she took care of h.er. children in the trust given to her by Jesus from the ci'oss~ Because Mary was so present to the needs of the Cl~urch before h_er Assumption, the early Church learned to respect her as mo(her, oA very significant part of the spiri.tuality of the autumn years in the lives of m_any is their devotioh to Mary by following her ex-ample in praying for the Church. The work of the autumn years is the same as Mary's; the" limits of that work ar'~ the size of oiir heart. Even as our autumn years are the time for being as much as we can be, they are the time for loving as much as we can love. Mary has taught us how to li~,e, h'ow to love, and how to be, both by her love for her Son and by the way she lived with the early Church. Just as Mary's autumn years were filled with the touch of God, her presence brought that same touch of God's love to the ea~:ly Church. Mary and God's touch would always be close. So too our autumn y.ears can have the touch of God strength-ening the Mystical,.Body of Christ. Mary is therole model of our autumn years and our patron as we pray: Heav.enly Father,.help us to understand the meaningof growing older in wisdom and knowledge. Allow us to gracefully accept the slowing down in the autumn of life. May we be as loving as Mary in her autumn years, presefit to the needs of c'bmpanions~ filled with I.ife and its inys-ter~, so that all will feel free to share your gift, to find your love within us. Open us, O Father, to a concern for.the liu~an race. Fill our hearts with living in the fulfillment of your abiding love every'moment of every day. Help us to be so resonant and filled with the meaning of the mo-ment that we may:be truly able to love,.as you.loved. May we eagerly look forward to the "being'.~'of the autumn years, reaping the golden rewards, fully open to the winter-that is to come, where all is wanned ~bY your love. ~ Community Dialogue and Religious Tradition Sebastian MacDonald, C.P. Father MacDonald is provincial superior of the Holy Cross Province. He may fie reached at Passionist Community; 5700 North Harlem Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60631. Dialogue is a common form of community experience today. It is an en-deavor which has the capacity of exposing the wealth of tradition latent in a community. Such tradition is often the unspoken element bonding a community together, the ineffable cementing relationships. It can be a mistake, of course, to uncritically commend the rgle of dialogue in religious life, Given the negative experience of it that many religi~us have encountered the past few years, citing its advantages must be balanced with recognizing its difficultie~ and disadvantages. ~'hese latter largely center about the conflict and division that often occurs among community members, as the~y encounter in one another ap- ¯ parently irreconcilable positions on often fundamental and basic aspects of religious life. Dialogue, as the publi~c articulation of these p~ositions, can add to an already~latent conflict. Once public positions are taken by community members, this may freeze a division that has always be~n there, but, here-tofore, private, and to that extent, potentially malleable. By enhancing the feeling elenaent, dialogue can be a further obstacle to community build-ing. II. An aspect of the problem which needs to be recognized is the often 827 828 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 ~restrictive or constrained, nature of community dialogue. At times it does not allow full expression of opinion on the part of all present, as when, should everyone address an issue, the frequent result is that the depth of conversation is shallow and glosses over deep feelings and heartfelt con-victions. This may result in one side gradually prevailing, in a community dif-ference of opinion. An unequal division occurs on an issue when the ma-jority silences the minority, or articulate spokespersons cause members who support an opposing opinion to withdraw in some way and possibly to absent themselves from community dialogue: If this happens, an unspoken element remains in the community, fu-eling even more the disagreement raised to prominence by the public dia-logues that have taken place. Just because ~something is unspoken does not mean that'it ce~ases to exist or exert its influence. lie " To offset this development, a full-blown community dialogue be-comes desirable, where each member has the opportunity, and actively utilizes it, of fully expressing himself or herself regarding fundamental issues of religious life, as well as seCondary but still importantelernents. '. Adults who live together for a period of time accumulate a rich de, posit of spirit and. tradition. Any community bonding that 'Occurs must respect that. richness. But where dialogue is restricted and constrained, and opinions go un, expressed, monologue prevails, not genuine dialogue. There may be an appearance of dialogue, as community members dutifully assemble ac-cording to schedule. But if they do so reluctantly and,. fearing r~ancor, sniping or misrepresentation, do not speak from their hearts on issu.es, then only a facsimile of dialogue is present, with peopl~ merely going through the motions of conversing With one another. Honest ~elf, expression is a duty and a respons.ib~ility, together with a willingness to listen to ~thers, who may voice positions in conflict with ~eeply held convictions. Th!s kind of community dia.logue is an art form riot come by easily, spontaiaeous!y or naturally. It has to be worked at with grace, balance and harmony to make the conversation helpful and productive. There is a rich mother-lode of spiritual exp.erience in religious com-munities that beg~ to be exposed, recognized and admired. It is a thing of beauty that often eludes written or spoken form. Congregational documents, such as Constitutions and Regulations, do,not always capture the "tradition" of a religious community which, Community Dialogue and Tradition / 1t29 in large part, is often inexpressible. But it does strive to see the light of day and to be ack.nowledged for what it is, a major cementing factor in a community's life and existence. .Religious life is one of faith. In our efforts to explain it in its com-munal form, we refer to other kinds of community living, especially the family. However, we know that these comparisons are only partially sat-isfactory. The physical bonding factors which account for the stability of communal units such ,as the familY explain much of the emotional and spiritual quality present there. ~ The vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, however, are bonding factors of a different type, which must be described as intangibles. The ~faith quality and spirituality of religious community is intelligible only in their terms. Indeed, religious life is designed to witness to the kind of community living together based on such values. This witness is, hope-fully, given to one another, and to those who observe religious in prac-tice. The spirituality of the "apostolic community,'~' about which we hear so much today, consists of this faith witness on the part of religious bound together by such "intangible" vows accounting for their life and work together. Precisely because the "anchors" for the faith quality of religious life are intangible, it is possible they will be submerged, sliding beneath the surface and remaining invisible, unless they are consciously and delib-erately disengaged and exposed to view. Community dialogue is one way of allowing this to happen. IV. The fuller the attention and exposure that a tradition of religious life receives, the more promising the access it provides to building and unit-ing a religious community together. Tradition can be ineffable, or expressible only with difficulty for the reasons given above. If this .occurs, it is not acknowledged, responded to or accounted for, despite its important role in the community. Tradition often constitutes the very center of religious life in com~ munity. It can explain the reason behind who they are and the values they abide by. When these are not plainly evident to otliers, their lives as com-munity members can in large part go unappreciated by and even un-known to their fellow religious. Can this be community? Unwritten and unspoken tradition bonds a community together, but it needs to be acknowledged and dealt with. Practices regarding poverty, prayer, silence, fraternal relationships, and so forth, often refer to expe- Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 riences that flow deeply and silently, possibly never seeing the light of day, exc6pt symbolically and representatively. It is imperative that they emerge in community dialogue. Otherwise an explosive energy build-up results, driving co-existing lives in opposite directions, into inevitable collision. This is the hidden resistance so often experienced as divisive in community dialogue. It rep-resents the unspoken ground on which people take stands, inadequately explored and investigated with their fellow religious. Much of this tradition is rooted in religious and sacred ~aeaning, and concerns God himself. This adds a dimension of strength and power to values that weigh heavily upon a community that fails to discover them, unspoken and hidden in the depths of certain members who feel that the way they experience God in their lives is not esteemed by others. V. Tradition within the smaller confines of religious community reflects Catholic tradition within the Church at large. It is endowed with a ver-sion of catholicity in its capacity to bind together those who share it. On the other hand, a schism or division can begin among those religious who do not share a common tradition, or fail to appreciate or even perceive its presence. A religious community is like "a little church" in this re-gard. Community dialogue is at its best when it provides full scope to re-ligious experience. In this way it discloses a deposit of reasons and val-ues that give meaning to people's lives and make them real. If it suc-ceeds in this, it helps build community on a solid foundation of full, hon-est, and authentic exchange between people intent on sharing life to-gether. Conclusion Living by a largely unwritten tradition containing rich personal and communal experiences, we stand to benefit by an exposure of this "tra-dition" to others through, dialogue. Hopefully it will win their esteem too, and bind religious more ~closely together. God's Love Is Not Utilitarian William A. Barry, S.J. This is the final of Father Barry's series of four articles which began with a considera-tion of our resistances to God. He may be addressed at Saint Andrew House; 300 Newbury Street; Boston, Massachusetts 02115. A number of years ago---more than I care to remember--as a brash young scholastic I was° engaged in a spirited conversation with some other Jesu-its, priests and scholastics. We were discussing the reasons for being a Jesuit. During the discussion I found myself more and more dissatisfied with the reasons given. I had seen married and single lay men and women who were at least 9s dedicated to being,followers of Christ as any of us. My own parents were examples of rather remarkably unselfish lov-ers. I could not believe that God was more pleased with us than with them~ Nor could I accept the notion that God wanted me to be a Jesuit in order to save some part of the world. That just did not ring true to my experience and reflection. At one point I blurted out something like this: "I'm a.Jesuit because God wants me to be happy and productive. God"s love for me has led me to choose this life, just as his love for o~hers leads them to choose their way of life." I am not su.re I understood all the implications of what I said, nor was I sure that the implied theology would stand up to scru-tiny. But that outburst has stayed with me through the years, and I have pondered its meaning off and on. In the process I began to enunciate a conviction that God's love is~not utilitarian; i.e., God does not love me or anyone primarily in order to achieve some other goals. In this article I want to unpack some of the meaning of this conviction, impelled by a number of recent experiences of directing retreats and giving spiritual direction. 831 ~1~12 / Review for Religious, N~vember-December, 1987 My youthful outburst was occasioned by the realization that much of the reasoning that justified being a religious presumed that being one was a great sacrifice, indeed, even painful. So the life had to be justified or made palatable. But I did not feel that my life entailed any more sacri-fice than anyone else's. I was rather happy, all things considered, and would not have traded my life for anyone's. So I felt that the "call" to Jesuit life was God's gift to me, his way of loving me. To put the same thing in another way: I felt that God wanted me to be a Jesuit because that was the best way for me to be happy and productive. That convic-tion has not changed since. Over the years I have come to believe that all God wants of any of us is to let him love us. I hax;e also come to believe that one of the most difficult things for us to do is precisely to let God love us, to receive his love. We resist his advances, his overtures of love as though they were the plague. In three earlier articles I have tried to probe the sources of that resistance.l In this article I want to focus on what I have come to believe is God's desire in bur regard. Sebastian Moore,2 in his latest book, makes the point brilliantly: God desires us into being. Before ever we were, God desired us so much that he made us, and made us desirable and lovely. And he desires, that we find him lovely, that we love him. But that can only happen if we !et ourselves believe and experience that we are, as it were, the apple of his eye. To the extent that we believe and experience that God finds us de-sirable, to that extent will we be in love with him. People who have let God, demonstrate his love for them often affirm that it is a love without any demands, an3; strings attached. This is a diffi-cult point to grasp, so let us try to be clear. Often enough we are afraid of God's closeness because we fear the demands he will make of us. "He may askme to go to Ethiopia." As far as I can te!l, when God comes close, he does not c6rrie with a list'of demands or conditions for continuing to remain close. For example, he does not seem to say: "Yes, I love you, but I will only keep on loving you if you [fill in the blank]." Infact, he does not even seem to say: "I love you, but I will only keep on loving you if you stop this pai'ticular sin:" God seems to be just what the First Letter of John says he is, namely'love ,'and uncon-ditional love at that. All he seem~ to want is to be able to love Us, to be close and intimate with us. Does this mean that God has no standards, no values? By no means; but his Values are not perceived as demands by those who have let him come close. Rather they find themselves desirous of sharing his values, God's Love Is°Not Utilitaridn / I]~13 of being' like him--not because God'demands that they do so, butobe-causethey are happier and more alive when they live according to God's values. For example, I realize that I am happier, more alive and more purposeful when I can desire to forgive as Jesus forgives, to love as Je-sus loves. Married men and women have found themselves most fulfilled when they have:remained faithful to their marital commitments, even when the grass looked greener elsewhere. Religious have discovered that their great-est happiness lies in giving themselves wholeheartedly to the demands of their vows, even when the bloom seems off the rose, as it were. Many Christians have also discovered that they are most alive and happy when they give themselves as wholeheartedly as possible to living with and working with and for the poor. Of course, at times all these people weaken, and are helped to stay the course by some negative sanction, for example, fear of loss of face, or of sinning and disappointing God, or of hell. But at bottom the motivation for sticking to their lasts is the desire to imitate the God who has so unconditionally and faithfully loved them. In other words they want to be perfect as'their heavenly Father is perfect. Of course, they cannot .do this. Sin is an ever present reality which even the holiest of saints must contend with. However, those who have experienced God as lover do not experience him as contemptuous of their sinfulness but as compassionate and patient. In their best moments, when they are aware of God's love, they recognize that all they have to do is to ask forgiveness and healing for their lapses, and to desire to have their hearts made more like the heart of Jesus. And they can hope that continued contemplation of Jesus will transform their hearts almost by osmosis. Now, perhaps, we have come to the key that opens the last door to insight. Jesus is the perfect human being, we believe, the one who most fully realizes the potential of humanity. When all is said ~nd done, What is the central insight Jesus had? Was it not that Yahweh, the creator of the universe, the unnameable, unfathomable mystery, is "Abba," "dear Father," "dear Mother," Love itself? To the maximum extent possible for a human being Jesus knew God, and he experienced God as Love.3 Let us reflect a bit on Jesus' baptism in the Jordan. I realize that I am reading into the text, but I find it intriguing that the synoptics pic-ture God as saying that Jesus is his beloved in whom he is well pleased before Jesus has begun his public ministry. What has he done to elicit such praise? Perhaps "all" that he has done is to allow God to come ~134 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 as close as God wants to come; perhaps "all" that he has done is just to let himself be loved as much as God wants to love him. Perhaps Jesus is so dear to God just because he let God do what God has always wanted to do: reveal himself as our lover par excellence. It is also intriguing to speculate that Jesus' fundamental salvific act may have been, not dying on the cross, but rather accepting God's love as much as it is humanly possible to do. Then the following of Christ might mean not so much doing iheroic deeds, nor even wanting to love as Jesus loves, but much more fundamentally, desiring to let oneself be loved as much as Jesus was and is loved. PerhaPs the world will be saved when a critical mass is reached of people who deeply believe and expe-rience how much they are loved by God. What I have been saying may strike some readers as advocacy of a "me and God" spirituality. It is true that this can all sound very narcis-sistic. But in practice, it is the exact opposite. Those who let themselves be loved by God find in doing so that their own love and compassion for others is enormously increased. This trans-formation does not happen because God demands such love of them. In fact, these persons know that for years they tried to be loving in response to what they took to be God's demands: they made resolution after reso-lution, and failed miserably. Now without effort, almost, they find their hearts going out to others, and especially to the neediest. They are sur, prised themselves at what is happening to their hearts. The more they al-low themselves to be loved unconditionally by God, the more loving they become. And the love of these persons, like that of Jesus, is a tough love. They speak the truth, but it is a truth that is not contemptuous, nor an-grily demanding--at least while they are aware of being loved. This last aside is a necessary nod to realism. For even the holiest of saints has days he or she regrets. Moreover, as they become or are made aware that they are socio-political beings, i.e., constituted at least in,part by the social and. political institutions into which they are born or freely enter, they begin to undergo what Father Gelpi calls a socio-political,conversion, and take steps to make these institutions more just' and caring through organizing, networking, lobbying, and protesting where necessary.4 Moreover, people who let God come close realize, without self-contempt, how far they fall short, and always will fail short, of being like Jesus. They know. from experience why the saints protested so strongly their sinfulness. They feel over and over again how much God loves them and how much God desires to shower them with his love, and God's Love Is Not Utilitarian they see themselves turning their backs on him, resisting his advances, refusing his invitations to intimacy. They find themselves to be enigmas because the experience of God's closeness fulfills their deepest desires, yet they fight him off. In spite of being such sinners they know that God still loves them. Hence, they view themselves and all human beings more and more with the compassionate eyes of God. I have begun to suspect that the notion of God's love as utilitarian is a defense against God's love. IfI convince myself that God loves me for the sake of other people, then I do not have to face the enormity of being' loved for myself alone by God. Many people shelter themselves from the full implications of God's love by seeing themselves as the ob-ject of that love only as part of a group. In other words, God loves all people, and I am included under the umbrella,,as it were. Now there is a truth in this notion, but I can use it to keep God's love very impersonal and distanced. So, too, God'is kept distanced if I conceive of tiis love for me as utili-tarian. "He loves me for what I can do for the people of Ethiopia." It is a very subtle way of keeping God at a distance: he does hoi loveme so much as Ethiopia. It is also subtly Pelagian: God loves me for what I can do for him. Interestingly enough, it is also a subtle way both to puff up my ego, and also to make sure that I am never satisfied with my-self. On the one hand, I am aware of all that I am doing for Ethiopia; on the other hand, I am constantly reminded of how much more there is to be done, and may also be reminded that others have done more. One person on, a retreat, for example, felt that if God really loved her, then he would be using her in more important ways. She discovered that such reasoning was making her unhappy and keeping God at arm's length. Perhaps the burden of the argument thus far can be summed up in an experience of another retreatant. He had experienced deeply that Je-sus knew he was a sinner and would always be a sinner. Jesus commu-nicated to him in a gentle, loving way how he had betrz'yed him in the past, and that he would do it again in the future. Yet he looked at him with enormous tenderness and love. The retreatant felt that Jesus said to him: "I love no one more than I love you--but I love no one less than I love you." God does not love some people more because of what they do, or what they will do. He is just greatly pleased that anyone lets him come as close as he wants to come. If God's love is not utilitarian, does this mean that it is meaningless to ask whether God has a will for me apart from letting him love me and Review for 'Religious, November-December, 1987 loving him in re~urn? If God will continue to love me whether I become a doctor, a carpenter,.a social worker, or a Jesuit, does 'it matter at all to God which I become, as'long as I am happy? To take the question one step further: if God will continue to love me even if I~ continue to sin, does it matte~r to God whether I stop sinning or not? In other words, if we say that God is unconditional Love and that he is not utilitarian in his love, do we not eviscerate of meaning such traditional Christian and Catholic notions as the discernment of God's will, the exist~ence of hell, the call to co.nversion from sin, the person as.God's instrument and vo-cation? Perhaps John was addressing some of the ~same questions when he has Jesus say; For'God so loved the world that he gave'his only Son~ that whoever be-lieves in him should not perish but hav6 eternal life. For'God sent the Son into the world, nbt to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. He who believes in him is not condemned; he who does not b.elieve is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has ~ome into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every .one wh6 does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light, lest his' deeds should be exposed. But he who does what is true comes to the light, thi~t it may be clearly seen that his~deeds have been wrought in God (Jn 3:16-21). A comment by Raymond Brown on this passage and others in John, may show us a path out of the, dilemma: We believe that the translation of krinein as "condemn" in these pas- .sages (also in 8:26) is clearly justified by the contrast with "save." Nev-ertheless, the statement that Jesus did not come to condemn does not ex-clude the very real judgment that Jesus provokes . The idea in John, then, seems to be that during his ministry Jesus is. no. apocalyptic judge like the one expected at the end of time; yet his presence does cause men to judge themselves.5 In other words, Jesus does not condemn, but his presence brings out what people really are like. He, the human presence of God on earth, loves people and wants their good, indeed their absolute good, which is union with God, and he continues to love even those who spurn the of-fer, They condemn themselves. Let us see where this path leads us. When we love people unselfishly (insofar as this is possible for a hu-man: being), we want their good. We want them to be as happy, fulfilled, right with God and the world as possible. We want them to fulfill all their God's Love Is Not Utilitarian / 837 potential, "to be ttie best that they can be," as the commercial for the Army dins into our memories. At our best ~ve do not demand all this as a condition for our love, but we want it because we love. If this is the case with us, we can imagine what God desires. In his ',~'Contemplation to Obtain Love,'? Ignatius of Loyola tries to help us to imagine all that God's love wants. In an almost poignant line he'says: "I will ponder with great. affection how much God our Lord has done for me, and how much he has given me of what he~ possesses, and fi-nally, how much, as far as he~ can, the same Lord desires to give.himself to me according to his divine decrees."6 God creates a world that he sees is "very good" (Gn 1:31) for his loved ones to live in. He wants them to be co-creators with him of this evolving world. The Garden of Eden image in Genesisl is awonderful symbol of wl~at.Gbd wants for those whom he lo~,es into existence. He °wants us to li~,e in harmony ~vith, and with reverence for the universe and all that is in it, because that is the way to ou~r greatest li~lppines's and fulfillment both as individuals and as brothers and sisters. Moreover, he wants to giye himself to us "as far as he can"; limita-tion comes not just. from our fin.itude, but also from our perversity. God, however, will not compel us to accept what is for. our good. Does GOd puni.sh us for our perversity? It is an age-old tradition that ascribes natural disasters to God's wrath. The Old Testa.ment is~ replete with such ascription~s, beginning with Genesis 2. In the New Testament Jesus is asked: "Rabbi, ,whq,sinned, this,man or his parents,~ that he was born blind~?" He a.nswers: "It was not that this man sinned, or his par-ents, but that the works of God might be made,manifest in him" (Jn 9:2- 3). To say the least, this answer is enigmatic, but it does belie the as-cription of disasters to God's wrath ~at sin, On the hypothesis that God is Love I want to say that we punish our-selves by turning away from God's love. God remains steadfast in his love. But hatred, suspicion, prejudice, fear--these and other emotions-- are the product of our sins and the sins of our forebears. And they are not emotions that are for our peace. In other wor.ds, God made us broth-ers and sisters and desired us to live in harmony and mutual love, but we human beings have brought on ourselves the disharmony and distrust that now threaten the world as we know it. And if anyone does remain willfully and perVersely turned away from God's love and the love of neighbor to the end, then he or she chooses eternal unhappiness. But ~God's love does not change into 'something else. Review for Religious, November-De~cember, 1987 But what abgut the man born blind? What about the child with Down's syndrome? What about natural disasters such as the eruption of the volcano in Colombia which destroyed.~a town and took 20,000 lives in one day? We want to know why such things happen. It lies close to hand to ascribe such events either to the punishment of God, or fate, or to the stupidity of the victims. Social psychologists speak of the ."just world hypothesis" in .describing such attitudes. According to this view, everybody believes the world is a place where people generally get what they deserve and deserve wffat they get. To believe that our own good deeds and hard work may come to naught and, indeed, that we can encounter a calamity for totally fortuitous rea-sons, is simply too threatening to most of us. And yet we see people whose lives have been shattered and who seem like us in every way. Are these paraplegics, blind people, sufferers from cancer really innocent vic- .tims, and are we, therefore, candidates for s~ffering the S~me fate? The just world hypoth.esis posits that in these circum~stances we are likely to reject that possibility as intolerable and to conclude that those stricken individuals ~re really wicked, or at least foolish, and deserve their fate.7 Some of these calamities may be caused by human sinfulness or stu-pidity at some time in history. In the United states and in Latin America people still experience the effects of the evil of slavery and of greedy colo-nization. Other calamities may just be random events in a finite world; e.g., some Of the effects of genetic disorders. Others may be caused by someone else's perversity, but the victim is seemingly picked out at ran-dom: for ~xample, the drunken driver plows into John Jones' car, hav-ing just barely missed ten others, and out of the blffe John is dead~ and his daughter is maimed ~for life, through no fault of theirs. The "just world hypothesis" reminds us of the friends of Job or the disciples who asked Jesus about the sin that caused the man to be born blind. It will not work in the case of innocent victims of either random events, the pre-sent sins of others, or the effects of historic evils. How do we square the unconditional love of God with such calami-ties? In experience, people who engage God directly in a relationship, and who look at the world realistically, have the "just world hypothe-sis" pulled out from under them. They see that Jesus, the sinless, be-loved Son, died horribly, and that no bolts of lightning took vengeance on his killers or saved him. As they develop their relationship with God, they may find themselves raging at him for.the seemingly needless suf-fering they ,undergo or see others experience. Somehow or other they dis-cover a God who is beyond what we conceive as justice, a God they can God's Love Is Not Utilitarian hope in and live for, No more than the author of the book of Job can they explain it; but for sure it i~ not the answer proposed by the "just world hypothesis." People who have de'0eloped such a relationship with God experience the deep m~ystery of creation and co-creation. God loves into existence not only the stars that so bedazzle us in the night sky but also the vol-cano~ that erupts suddenly and engulfs a whole city killing 20,000 peo-ple, 'and he loves those people into existence. God not only loves into existence Jesus and Mary, Francis of Assisi, Teresa of Avila, and the lovely people who have lok, ed us in our lives, but also Herod and Hero-dias, Genghis Khan, Lucrezia Borgia, Hitler and the torturers of politi-cal prisoners:of our day. People who meet this God at a deep level sense a bottomless ~compassion and pain at the heart of the world, yet a vibrant hope for life. They become more compassionate--and passionate-~ them-selves. Perhaps they can understand that it was not bravado that kept the martyrs joyful in their s.ufferings and dying. Perhaps, too, they can un-de¢ stand how the poorest of the poor still are capable of tremendous acts of generosity toward their fellow sufferers, just as they can understand the great cruelty o.f which the poor are also capable. Thus far we have threaded our path oiat of the seeming dilemma of the coexistence of God's unconditional love and-punishment for sin and hell. We have also seen a way'of explaining the call to conversion from sin. God wants the best for us and that best includes our turning away from sin and toward living a life that is consonant with a relationship of mutual love with the Lord. Sin does not produce happiness or harmony or peace of mind. Nor does it create harmonious relationsh~p.s between people, or political and social and religious institutions that work toward such harmonious and just relationships. So God's love for us desires that we be converted on all the levels postulated by Gelpi, the affective, the intellectual, the moral and the socio-political.8 Note, however, that God does not make such'integral conversion a condition for continuing to love us. He desires it b~ecause it is for our good; bu~ he does not demand it as the price of his love. Now let us mo4e on to the issue of the discernment of God's will, especially as this regards the question of a vocation to a way of life. Traditionally Catholics have believed that God has a plan for each per-son. He 'calls some to the religious or priestly life and others to the mar- ,ried state. It is true that the term "vocation" was most often restricted to the religious or priestly life. "He-hasa vocation" was shorthand in Catholic circles for saying that an individual felt called to religious or Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 priestly life. But a. more careful use oftanguage:also,saw married life as a calling. A further problem, of course~ is that this language left in limbo those who remain single (and not religious or priests) either vol-untarily or involuntarily. At,any rate, does God call people to a particu-lar way of life? And if. so, how is this calling consonant with the non-utilitarian nature of his love? ~ 0 Again we return to the idea that the lover wants the good of the be-loved. I will use the case of Ignatius of.Loyola to illustrate a way of under-standing God's call in terms of his~love, without~making that love. utilitar-ian. 9 ~ Inigo (his original name) was a hell-raising, ambitious, vain, coura-geous man, a'.man who dreamed of doing great exploits. At Pamplona, according to his own account, he was the rallying point, in resisting the French attackers. When he. was severely wounded in the leg, the defend-ers immediately surrendered. God seems to have used this crooked line to write straight. During his 10ng convalescence Inigo continued his dreaming. He dreamt of doing great knightly deeds to win fame and honor and the favor of a great lady. These daydreams.would absorb him for up to four hours'at a time. The only books at hand for him were a life of Christ and a book of the lives of the saints. When he read these, he began to dream of doing what Dominic and Francis did, and again he would become absorbed for hours. Notice that in both cases ~his ar-dor, ambition, bravery, and even vanity were operative. Finally, after some time of alternating daydreams, he began to notice a difference. When he was thinking about the things of the world, he'took much de-light in them, but afterwards, when he was tired and put theha aside, he found that he was dry and discontented. But when he thought of going to Jerusalem, barefoot and eating nothing but herbs and undergoing all the other rigors that he saw the saints had endured, not only was he con-soled when he had these thoughts, but even after putting them aside, he remained content and happy. He did not wonder, however, at th~s; nor ~:. did he stop to ponder the difference until one time his eyes were opened a little, and he began to marvel at the difference and to reflect upon it, ~ realizing from experience that some "thoughts left him sad and others happy)~0 ~' This was the beginning of Ignatius' own discovery of the discernment of spirits, a discernment that eventually led him to found the Society of Jesus, with enormous consequences for the Church and the world--and for not a few individuals who in almost four hundred and fifty years have joined this Society. God's Love Is Not Utilitarian How are we to understand this story of a vocation? I would maintain that ~God's 10ve for Inigo involved his desire that Inigo use his great ener-gies, his ardor, his ambition in ways that would make. him most happy, most fulfilled, and most useful to others. I believe that it mattered a great deal to God how Inigo used his talents, for Inigo's sake first of all, but also"for the sake.of others .whom God loved. However, God would not have loved Inigo any the less if he had missed the opportunity for dis-cernment, and had ~ontinued on his course toward "worldly" achieve-ment. But he might have been greatly saddened that Inigo did not choose what was for his greater happiness and peace. Later in life Inigo himself might have felt the sadness as he pondered how his life had gone since his recuperation. Only God could so love us that he would allow us the freedom to turn away from receiving all that he wants .to give us, and still keep loving us unconditionally, even when we so chopse. ., It seems to me that a consi.stent cleaving to the central insight of the New Testament, that God is "Abba," does not force .us to give up any truths of.faith and has several distinct advantages. The preceding pages have shown some ways of understanding traditional truths that hold in the forefront that" God is unconditional love, a love that is not utilitar-ian. Su(h an understanding demonstrates an intrinsic connection between the love of God and the search for his frill. Because God loves me, he wants the best for me. Because and insofar as I love God, I want the best for him, which is that he may give.himself to me as much as he can. The way of life God wants for me is the best way for me to receive his love and to be a co-creator with him. Hence, in my better moments, I try to the best of my ability to discern wfiere his love leads me. I do not try to find his will for fear that he will punish me, but rather for fear that I will miss the way that would allow him to give me more of him-self. I also try to find his will because I.know that his love desires more good for all those whom I will touch in my life. Perhaps we can understand in a slightly new way an axiom attributed to Ignatius (and often put inversely). Loosely translated the saying goes: "Pray as if everything depended on you; work as if everything depended on God." 1 ~ It is very important for me to pray in order to know how and where God wants to love me, how he wants to gift me. It is important not only for me, but also because of others. The more I let God give him-self to me as far as he can, the more "sacrat~entally" present he is to others with whom I interact. And once I have discerned God's way, I can work without ambivalence and self.concern, trusting that God will accomplish whatever else he intends. Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 One final question occurs. Suppose that Inigo's eyes had not opened up during his convalescence, and that he had gone on to worldly exploits. Would he have been given another chance? That is, of course, an unan-swerable question. But God would surely continue to love him and, we presume, continually offer him a call to a radical conversion of heart. ~If, later in life, he were to have his eyes opened, he'might have to come to terms with those earlier missed opportunities. Repentance would be in.~order, but a wallowing in his "spilt milk" would not be an appropri-ate response to the God of love. Conversion'means to accept my past pre-cisely as my past, i.e., both mine and past, and to surrender in freedom to the new and mysterious future offered by God's love now. But an historic moment surely would have been lost if Ignatius had gone an alternate route instead of the one he did take. There are conse-quences to our choices. Hence, it is incumbent on all of us who minister to help people who stand, or soon will stand, before serious life choices to become discerning Christians. Historic consequences may be at stake. -And now a final word. For the past year and a half I have been com-ing at the same issue from different angles. At first I was intrigued by a strange resistance to God's initiative, a resistance that clearly was a run-ning from a positive experience of God'~ presence. My curiosity pro-duced the three articles for this review mentioned earlier. Then a few experi,ences with direcfees prompted this article. I want to end where I began, with the first article. We need to be mind-ful that there is a force within us ~hat does hate the light, that seems to want to thwart all God's loving desire to give us of himself. We need to be on the alert to discern the presence of that force, but also to rely on thos~ various sayings that have given people hope through the ages, sayings like: "With men it is impossible, but not with God; for all things are possible with God" (Mk 10:27) or "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made per.fect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). NOTES 1 William A. Barry, "Resistance to Union: A Virulent Strain," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 44 (1985), pp. 592-596; "The Desire to 'Love as Jesus Loved' and its Vicissitudes," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 44 (1985), pp. 747-753; "Surrender: The Key to Wholeness," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 46 (1987), pp. 49-53. 2 Sebastian Moore, Let This Mind Be in You (Minneapolis: Seabury, 1985). 3 After I had finished this article I came upon Francis Baur's Life in Abundance: A Contemporary Spirituality (New York/Ramsey: Paulist, 1983) who uses process the-ology to develop a spirituality based on the definition of God as love. While some- God's Love Is Not Utilitarian what hortatory and at times polemical, the book can serve as a theological underpinning for the more experience-based assertions of this article. 4 Donald L. Gelpi, "The Converting Jesuit," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, XVII, no. 1 (Jan. 1986). 5 Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel According to John: I-XII. The Anchor Bible, vol. 29. (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1966), p. 345. 6 The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. trans. Louis Puhl. (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951), no. 234, p. 102. 7 Edward E. Jones, Amerigo Farina, Albert H. Hastorf, Hazel Markus, Dale T. Miller, and Robert A. Scott, Social Stigma: The Psychology of Marked Relatiohships (New York: Freeman, 1984), pp. 59-60. 8 Gelpi, op. cit. 9 What follows is based on The Autobiography of St. Ignatius Loyola, trans. Joseph F. O'Callaghan. ed. John C. Olin (New York: Harper & Row, 1974). 10 lbid, p. 24. ~ The Latin version can be found in "Selectae S. Patris Nostri Ignatii Sententiae," no, II, in Thesaurus Spiritualis Societatis Jesu (Roma: Typis Polygiottis Vaticanis, 1948), p. 480. Gaston Fessard, in a long appendix to volume I of his La dialectique des Exercices Spirituels de saint Ignace de Loyola (Paris: Aubier, 1966), traces the historical background of the saying. He demonstrates that although not from Igna-tius' hand the saying does express the dialectic of his spirituality. Vocation She said she wished to be a shrub And sit in silence, lost, obscure In some dim woods where no one ever comes and she could muse and watch the quiet winds go by. But He who long ago observed a brambled bush Looked at her once among the ferns. He looked but once; the winds became a storm And now she burns, she. bu.rns! Ruth de Menezes 2819 D Arizona Avenue Santa Monica, CA 90404 Novitiate: Captivity or Liberty? Mariette Martineau Mariette Martineau, a novice with the Sisters of Mission Service, had recently com-pleted sixteen months of formation at St. Albert, Alberta, when she wrote these re-flections which she hopes will benefit others in novitiate life. She may be reached at Box 2861; Merritt, British Columbia; VOK 2BO, Canada. ~l~hat are the realities of being a novice in a religious community in the Church today? Since the exodus following Vatican II, communities have been growing smaller and older. Novitiates have been created and re-created to meet the ever changing formation needs of both the commu-nity and the candidates. How often have novices of today heard this com-ment from one of the older members of their community, "How for-tunate you are to have such a novitiate, full of prayer and study! In our days . " Come and journey with me as ! reflect on my novitiate experience. I am on the last Stretch of that journey ~as I am presently completing a six-month apostolic experience before returning to Edmonton in June for immediate preparation for vows scheduled to be, celebrated in August. I have often asked myself, particularly in the early months, "Is this no-vitiate experience one of captivity or liberty?" When I first arrived at the novitiate I experienced what I like to call the "honeymoon" phase. Life was fairly flexible as time was granted to unpack, to explore the h6use a6d neighborhood, and most importantly to meet the new commuriity and ito become comfortable with the direc-tor. The excitement of not knowing exactly what to expect and of enter-ing into the newness of activities energized me and I felt that I had made a good decision. Reality soon set in, and the struggling began. Before I entered, I prom-ised myself that I would give me, the community, and God a year to dis- 844 Novitiate: Captivity or Liberty cover if this was truly the way of life for Mariette to grow fully alive. I am thankful for that commitment for there ~vere many times during th'ose first few.months that I was ready to pack my ba~s and leave~. My director was also aware of that commitment and when times were rough she gently reminded me of it. The challenge to let go of one's independ-ence- socially, financially, emotionally, and so forth---can be a painful one. If I had chosen to leave at this stage in the novitiate procesS, I would have been leaving not because I had chosen the wrong way of life but because I was unable to release certain things in my life and give all to God. The second phase or reality of novitiate after the honeymoon phase is this ti~e of purification, of letting go. Tears can be an enriching and cleansing experience! One's schedule soon seems to become another's schedule as 'the director sets her expectations before you and challenges you to integrate and balhnce your time between formal classes, prayer, spiritual reading, community, household chores, writing papers, and per-haps weekly apostolic experiences andthe ~ccasional weekend work~ shop. Your life no longer seems to 15e yoOr own; anger and depression sometimes become an everyday experience as you strive to fully enter into the year. One has usually left a job behind and now feels like a "non-producer," dependent on the community for food, shelter, recreation. Suddenly you have to keep an account of the money you spend and have to ask someone for that money. You now have to ask permission before disappearing in the community car or going out with a friend. In some ways you feel that your personal autonomy is being threatened and you no longer have control over your life. You do not understand all the things that are being 'asked of you. In fact, some of the requests make no sense at all, This calls for trust--in tile community and in the forma-tion personnel. Trust that they do know what they are doing and have your growth as their priority, while attempting to see if you do indeed have the charism of this community. The Yes I said when I ei~tered soon grew into a series of "yeses" that were not always easy to say. I must point out that it was not a "yes" to°having things done to me but a yes that said, "I will enter into the process that you have set before me." During this phase the novices may find themselves projecting a lot of anger at their director. It is they who are setting down the guidelines, they who are enforcing them. The director is the one called to tell the novice, "This year is a time to place some relationships on the back burner, a time to get in touch with who you are, your relationship with God and the community in which you have chOsen to live out that rela- Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 tionship." The director is the one who has been given the sometimes pain-ful responsibility of making the novices aware of areas in their lives that need growth. "I do not feel that you are using your time properly--Do you realize that you snapped ~at Suzanne during supper last night?--You are too,much of a perfectionist." A novice, like anyone; finds it painful to look at her brokenness. I sometimes found myself saying in response, "What about Sister Perpetua? I look great beside her and she has been in the community for twenty years." It is much easier to focus on some-one else's areas of growth rather than your own. In the midst of all of this is the fear of reje6tion: One can begin to foc~s entirely on the nega-tive while neglecting to hear the affirmation that is also present. During the novitiate phase one journeys closely with the director. The goal is to have someone to process the year with you, to guide you, to challenge you,. to affirm you, to see if you do have a vocation to religious life. I found this aspect of my journey difficult. As. much as I wanted to dis-cover if I was in the right place, I feared rejection and wanted to appear as someone who had it all "together," I wanted to be an instant relig-ious, comfortable with poverty, celibacy, community, and obedience. Simply put, I wanted to be perfect and got angry with myself and: others when I was not. Directors often tell their novices to be prepared for a time of regres-sion following their initial entry into novitiate. One can hear this with the mind but the heart sometimes gets in the way. One cannot understand why she feels depressed, angry, without energy, and without the finesse she had when she entered. Insecurity may be another reality, but doubt is always good because it challenges one to dig deeper. The gift during this time of grieving and regression is the realization that, "Hey, I am not going crazy! I am just striving to say good-bye to some excess bag-gage. I am feeling the loss of many things and many people. I am spend- .ing so much energy on being angry, I need some way to deal with the anger in a more creative way. I want to grow and become me fully alive, but that hurts and I just cannot seem to grow fast enough." A novice was asked one time, "When did your novitiate start?" She replied: "Nine months into it!" Another reality of novitiate life is the focus on community. One no longer, has the freedom to skip supper when she feels like it and go shop-ping instead. Recreation often takes place in the community context, and outside contacts can be limited and are often with other religious. One may get the sense of dead air--I need to.see other people! The challenge is to enter into the times of community and group activity while remem, Novitiate: Captivity or Liberty / 1~47 bering to also enter into moments of aloneness. We all need some de-gree of personal space. In relation to community, the novice who enters and places before herself the goal of reforming the community will find herself in conflict and perhaps will receive an invitation to leave. It is similar to marrying someone with the intent of changing that person into the person ~hat you think he or she should be. Those of us novices who are still young when we enter often bring with us our youthful idealism. This idealism is not wrong, and may indeed carry with it challen.ges to the community. But we must remember that novitiate is a dialectical proc-ess; both the community and the individual have so.mething to leai'n from each ot~her. Neither is perfect and neither should be expected to be per-fect. A line from a friend says, "I love you as you are in the middle of where you are." How does one know when to leave? After haying earlier stated that I had committed myself (t° myself) for a year, what would have caused ~e to leave? If at any point in that year the person of Mariette completely disappeared, I think it would have been time to pull out. If I had to die to all that I was, I think I would have been in the wrong place, perhaps simply at the.wrong time, or forever. Dialogue with the director is ex-tremely important during this discernment.' She is an objective observer, trained to help one make such decisions. Naturally the decision is always our own, and one always has to keep before herself the freedom to stay or to leave. Again I would say, trust the formation personnel, as it is easy to get entangled in one's emotions and make a decision to leave for the wrong reasons. I would not encourage anyone to leave while in the mid-dle of the grieving process. One can expect to say some good-byes to journey companions dur-ing novitiate. Some people will be with us until the end of the journey, others are called to different places before then. Good-byes can be pain-ful, especially if you have shared a deep relationship with the person leav-ing or if you have difficulty accepting the reasons for leaving. Each time someone left, it was an opportunity for me to reexamine my own rea-sons for staying or to find some good reasons to leave. Usually new life followed these reflections especially if I had been given the opportunity to sa~, good-bye to the person leaving and/or to ritualize her departure with the community--whether it be my own or the intercommunity no-vitiate of which I was a member as I was the only novice in my own com-munity. I strongly encourage and invite novices who have decided to con-tinue their journey in a different direction to realize the importance of saying good-bye to their directors and their communities. "848 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1987 The happie,st phase of the novitiate seems to come too late. You feel ready to enter into the process, you have develop.ed new relationships, ygur, anger and depression no longer seem to have control over you, the journey inward has become a challenge that energizes you. And guess what? It is time to move on, perhaps to an apostolic experience or fur-ther studies or even vows. It is gratifying at this time to look at how one was at the beginning and how one appears to be now. Signs of growth are evident and as you reflect back you. feel yourself wondering,. "Was I, really like that? Did I make life that miserable for others in the house, especiall3~ my director? . . ." Now may also be a time of increased heal-ing, reaching out in love and forgiven, ess in a deep and meaningful way to those wh6 have journeyed so f,,aithfully with 'you. One still does not haveit ~11 "together" bu~'acknowledges the joys and pains of being a pilgrim. Is novitiate a time of captivity or liberty? It can be a time of captiv-ity, ofimprisoning one's self in anger, loneliness, schedules, pride, in-security, or one's past, But it is designed to be a time of liberty. A time to spend kvitli,y.ourself and God, journeying towards wholeness by being -given the gift to leave behind many of the earthly cares that can take over our existence. It is a time to begin to d~velop the"skillS and behavior pat5 terns that a religious needs to integrate her life choice of prophet into the world" and the Church today. Community in Religious Life and the - Church: Some Reflections Angelo M. Caligiuri Monsignor Caligiuri is Episcopal Vicar for Religious in his diocese. His reflections here represent his part in dialogues between bishops and religious in several areas of the country and discussion with various religious superiors and other vicars. He may be reached at the Office of the Vicar for Religious; Diocese of Buffalo; 100 South Elmwood Avenue; Buffalo, New York 14202. During the final months of 1985 and the first months of 1986, through-out the dioceses of the United Sti~tes, diocesan bishops met with their re-ligious to dialogue about six areas of mutual concern. These areas of in-terest and concern surfaced from the series of listenin~ sessions held the previous year under the leadership ~nd guidance of the special Pontifical Commission established by our Holy Father, under the chairmanship of Archbishop John Quinn of San Francisco. As a result of these listening sessions, .each diocese prepared a writ-ten report on what was heard and these reports were sent to Archbishop Qtiinn and his committee. From a reading and evaluation of the many reports, the committee saw the following subject areas surfacing as mer-i
Issue 28.2 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDIT~)R R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant edRor, as wel! as books for review, should be sent to ~EVIE~,V FOR RELIOIOUSj 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32t Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by facuhy members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, ~be editoria| ot~ices being located at 612 llumboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Questions for answering should be seni to the address of the Questions and Answers editor, MARCH ~969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 2 ANDRE AUW, C.P. The Evangelical Counsels: Ways of Becoming Free- Many years ago a young man walked into a Jewish synagogue and at the time for the readings, arose, took the scroll that was handed to Him, and read the follow-ing lines: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me Because the Lord has anointed me To bring good tidings to the afflicted, He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, Toproclaim liberty to the captives, Andthe opening of the prison to those who are bound. The young man, of course, was Jesus Christ, a man sent by God to be a liberator of men: And His mission was never more beautifully described than in those words of Isaiah which he read to the assembly: "He has sent'me to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to .those who are bound." The mission was one of liberation, of enabling men to become free. If it is true that our mission as religious is the same as Christ's mission, then it is important thatwe .examine the vows, and the counsels on which they are based, in the light of freedom. And so I have chosen to do this, tO discuss the vows as possible means of liberating us as persons, so that we can help others to become liberated. I would like to begin this consideration of the vows with a personal reflection that might serve as a frame-work for my approach. For the past five years I have been working with a great variety of groups: college students, married couples, priests, religious--men and women of all faiths or of no faith. And I have been surprised at the consistency of their impressions of re-ligious, Gradually I have been able to weave together a fabric + ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C.P., writes from the Center for Students of the Person; P.O. Box 2157; La Jolla, California 92037. VOLUME 28," 1969 .175 Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from their attitudes and responses. It is a fabric that is not pleasant to touch. I have the impression that their one dominant way of evaluating us is ~in terms of free-dom. For the most part they see us as terribly unfree. They see us as dedicated, well-intentioned men and women, who are, nevertheless, imprisoned by our way of life, trapped by our traditions, hemmed in, and, as the c.ollege students say, "hung up" by our systems and legal prescriptions. The most vocal expression of these feelings has come from the college student groups. And perhaps that is why my initial reaction to this consistent message was one of annoyance and irritation. I found myself rather defensive at what seemed to be an adolescent smugness on the part of these students, and at what appeared to be a. very unfair and unbalanced evaluation. Not all reli-gious are so rigid, unfree, trapped, and hemmed in. That was my initial reaction, But when I reflected a little more I discovered that I was reacting to things I did not want to believe could be true. And when I could be more honest with myself, I had to admit that this is the very image that many religious, including myself, have projected. My pondering also gave me some other valuable in-formation. Not only were these people telling me things about myself that I found hard to hear. They were also trying to tell me things about themselves which they found hard to bear. They were speaking of their fears. Seeing me unfree they were reminded of their own fear of never becoming free enough to be a mature loving person. They thought of their fear of being swallowed up in an impersonal, computerized society, of their fear of .being trapped by outdated traditions and hemmed in by unreasonable laws. All of their fears and frustrations which have been spilling out in bloody streaks from Watts to Washington, D.C., from the lawns of Berkeley to the halls of Columbia, were freshly underlined. It seems that they had turned toward, me, a religious, in hope, but finding me unfree, had turned away from me in sadness. They felt they must search elsewhere to find someone free enough to be able to show them the way to freedom. ¯ And so it seems to me to be a vital need to consider the vows in the light of freedom, to measure them by the manner in which they measure up as liberating forces in our lives. Nietzsche once said: "If they¯want me to believe in their God. they are going to have to sing better hymns for me; they are going to have to show me that they are men who have been liberated." Mod-ern man is saying the same thing to us today. He knows the message of Christ is essentially ]iberative, and be wants to see how well that message has liberated the religious who call themselves witnesses, before he will. consider buying it. In order to understand the vows as ways of becoming free we should understand what we mean by .freedom. It is not the ability to do whatever pleases me. That is narcissism. St. Paul has described it beautifully in the following instruction to the Galatians: "You should be free to serve one another in love" (Gal 5:14). And Doctor Carl Rogers spells that out a little more sharply when he talks about "a freedom which. [man] courageously uses to live his potentialities., which assists [him] in becoming human, in relating to others, in being a per-son." This is a freedom which makes us responsible lovers, concerned about responding sensitiveIy to others and not inhibited by the shadows of our own fears. How can the vows be ways of enabling us as religious to possess this kind of freedom? Let us examine them separately. First, poverty. What is there about this way of being a.nd living which can be liberating for us? In view of the definition of freedom as the ability to serve my brother in love, I would see poverty as a statement of value. For me, the true spirit of poverty is a way of being which can help me to tell my brother that I consider him more important than the material possessions I can acquire. And by not being so dependent upon .having things I am truly freer to share myself with others. Not needing to satisfy so many of my own desires, I can be more open and responsive to the needs of others. This is certainly the accent that we find in Scripture. Having things or not having things is of secondary importance in New Testament reflection on poverty. The emphasis is not on having, but on being: being able to "be" for others. The tragedy of the rich man Dives in the Lazarus story is not that he was wealthy, but that his wealth had made him insensitive and in-capable of meeting the needs of his suffering brother. There is, I feel, a parallel today in the attitude of people towards the poverty of religious. I do not be-lieve that intelligent people are harshly critical of us be-cause we possess large buildings and bank accounts. But they are severely critical when our buildings or our money keep us aloof and uninvolved in serious social issues. They can tolerate our need for some kind of. status but they cannot forgive us when we are incapable of service. As religious we need help in order to appreciate pov-erty as a way of freeing us from the paralyzing effect of accumulated material possessions. Freeing us from the demands of our own egos, so that we can walk--or even + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 177 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS run--to meet the needs of others. And so that we can do this without wanting a lot of "extras." When we do not have this spirit, something rather ugly happens to us even though we do not consciously promote it. We become very protective of our own in-terests. Speaking in another context, Charles Davis re-ferred to this self-service: The official church is racked with fear, insecurity and anxiety, with a consequent intolerance and lack of love. And what frustrates any effort at remedy is the perpetual dominance of the system over the person., the system always comes first. I would like to hope that I could become a different kind of religious, one who is seen as valuing the human person above any thing or system. I would like to be seen by those whom I serve as poor in material posses-sions, but rich in caring, unselfish as I serve them, and sometimes even a bit joyous in the sharing of myself: what I am and what I have as a Christ-person. This is the kind of witness that modern man needs and wants. He is terribly frustrated and unhappy with his accumulated wealth. He finds the things he possesses getting in the way of his relationships with the people he loves. And he does not know how to free himself. He needs people who can show him a new set of values and a new way of being with people. And finally, in regard to poverty, it is worthwhile re-calling that when Christ, after the miracle of Naim, was asked: "Are you the Messiah?" He responded not by pointing to the miracle of new life given to a dead man. Instead, He said: "Go and tell John what you see., the poor have the gospel preached to them." That was, and is still, the sign par excellence of the messianic liberator. It is the sign that shows people what Christ and His message are all about. Next let us examine obedience as a way of becoming free. I especially like Father Van Kaam's concept of obedience. It is taken from the root meaning of the word, "obaudire," which means "to hear." For me, obedience can be a wonderfully freeing thing when it is understood as a sensitive listening to the heartbeat of the Christian community. I think I would also add, a responsive and responsible listening. This means that those in authority and those under them have a need to listen to one an-other, to listen together to those they are committed to serve. It is responsive, and this implies a kind of generous spontaneity which is far removed from docile acceptance of an order. And it is responsible, which implies the recognition of an obligation that stems from a love com-mitment. For many the word obedience conjures up fantasies of force and control and restriction. How then can obedience be seen as a liberating force? I believe that one factor which can truly make obedience liberating is the factor of trust. The social and behavioral scientists have done con-siderable work in the area of authority relationships and they have discovered some interesting facts. They have found that when a climate of trust exists in a group, the people who are in positions of authority, are more re-laxed and do not feel a need to maintain tight kontrol and supervision. They are inclined to be open to sug-gestions for change. Those who are working for them tend to produce better and to assume responsibility for the welfare of the group as well as for the work they must do individually. One of the elements which Doctor Jack Gibb isolated in groups where authority relationships were poor was the attitude on the part of those in positions of leadership. These leaders held two assumptions regarding those who worked for them: that they were not to be trusted, and that they were irresponsible. Unfortunately, in many cases, these assumptions became a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy which created the very conditions that man-agement sought to avoid. There may well be similar assumptions on the part of religious superiors. We have had a long heritage of pro-tectiveness, and it is hard to effectively break away frown these patterns. Undoubtedly the atmosphere of trust is much better now than it was ten years ago, but there most likely is still a great deal of work to be done in religious communities in this area. Our obedience can be lib-erating for us only when, together, we can begin to as-sume that we can be trusted and that we can be re-sponsible for ourselves. Paradoxical as it may sound, a person must be truly independent before he can surrender himself to another. Thus I, as a religious, must experience your trust and my own responsibility before I can surrender my needs and desires in such a way that together we can listen sensi-tively to the needs of the community we serve. It is then, and only then, that I can find it possible to accept a diffi-cult assignment or perform unpleasant tasks as a respon-sive and responsible lover. Doctor Carl Rogers has said that in order to be a really effective teacher a person must have a profound trust in the human organism and its potentialities. Otherwise he will cram the student full of all the information he thinks is good for him rather than help the student to learn what is important for him. Having worked with Doctor Rogers I can state that this is not mere theory for him; it is the way he functions with people. He pre- + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 179 ÷ ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS' fers to be gullible, to take people at face value, .and to believe the things they say to him. And oddly enough, people are so warmed by this kind of unconditional ac-ceptance that they soon stop telling lies and cease trying to impress. They find they no longer have to hide their refil feelings, and it is a very wonderful experience for them. By experiencing the trust of a loving person they were.able to begin to surrender a bit of themselves. I believe it is this kind of trust which is needed to transform our understanding of obedience. Obedience should not make us docile conformists, but responsible lovers. Today more than ever before we need a concept of obedience which will enable, us to assume responsi-bility for our actions and our lives. We need greater power to freely surrender our self-centered desires and needs. The example of Peter in the New Testament seems to be a striking illustration of the kind of obedience I am talking about. Peter began his authority relationship with Christ feeling very insecure. He made a great many mistakes, yet each time he did so, Christ confirmed him as a person by making him feel that He still trusted him. The peak experience for Peter came during the meet-ing with Christ outside the palace of the high priest. Peter, ashamed at his betrayal, finally found the courage to look at Christ, and that loving glance of the Master made Peter aware that Christ still believed in him, still trusted him. It was only after this that Peter felt secure enough to accept the responsible task of shepherding the flock for Christ. It was Christ's trust of Peter that made' possible the entrusting of the flock to him. And it was this same trust that transformed Peter into a re-sponsive and responsible lover. This is a way of being that modern man wants to dis-cover very badly. He finds it so hard to reach beyond the limits of his own ego. He is searching for someone who can show him an obedience which is an exercise of responsibility freely chosen, and yet something binding and demanding because that is the way of love. Modern man needs to experience this kind of trust-filled loving so that he too can become free to love. He wants to be able to say in the words of The Little Prince: "I am re-sponsible for my rose." That would be for him the state-ment of a truly obedient man, rejoicing in an obedience which is richly liberating. Finally we come to the vow of celibate love. I have chosen to discuss it under this title rather than that of chastity because I believe this best expresses, the real meaning o.f the vow. There has been so much written on celibacy in the past year that I iliad it difficult say something which will ,1 not be excessively redundant. Perhaps the best approach will be to share some of my reactions to recent articles that I have read. Frankly, I am not impressed byo being told that I am an eschatological sign because I am a celibate. I really do not think that the men and women who come in contact with me are go.ing to experience a love that. is redeeming simply by being aware that I can point to a way they will love one another in heaven. They need to know how to love here and now. I am not denying the theology of eschatological witness; I am saying that it is not a good enough reason to justify my be!ng a celibate. But perhaps the thing that disturbs me most about recent discussions on celibacy is the somewhat naive as-sumption that the celibate way of life "ex se" or. auto-matically will produce good results; that it will make us better lovers. Anyone who has worked closely with re-ligious in different communities 'knows that this simply is not an assumption based on fact. The fact is that we find it hard to be generous and warm lovers, in com-munity as well as out of community. And for me that is the very heart of the matter: being able to love others humanly, warmly. One of the most beautiful compliments that I.have re-ceived is a statement that has poignantly sad overtones: "You know you don't seem like a priest; you're so hu-man." What kind of celibacy is it that 'contributes to such an image? On the other hand I am equally disturbedby propo-nents of some undefined "third way," who speak so un-realistically of married love. Marriage can be just as de-humanizing as celibacy, as any counselor knows. Sexual expression :without sexual integration can be just as dev-astating for married persons as the lack of sexual expres, sion without-sexual integration can be for celibates. Neither marriage nor celibacy guarantees any(hing in the way of mature loving. However, both can be Ways of becoming free in order to grow as lovers. Both demand sexual integration as a prerequisite for personal fulfill-ment. And botl~ take a great deal of work and pain and perseverance and patience.' What then is there about the celibate .way of loving which can be for a religiousa liberating experience? First of all, I believe that celibacy, lovingly and. freely embraced, enabIes me to say to those I am committed to serve that I can love them in a way which is rich and deep and truly human, but in a way which is not demanding. And this is a magnificently freeingkind of awareness. It means that when I have accepted my sexuality and be-gun to integrate if, I can add another dimension to my VOLUME ~'St 2.969 "~, ; ISt 4, 4, Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18~ relationships. I can show people what it means to love someone just ~for himself. Not for his usefulness or phys-ical attractiveness. Not for his fine mind or remarkable talents, but just for himself. I can show him a way of loving and living which inte-grates se~xuality in a way that is different from married people. "It is a way which recognizes the splendor of sexuality, but which at the same time chooses to refrain from sexual .expression. I can show this person how to love both men and women warmly and deeply, with tenderness and even affection, without the overriding fear of automatic sexual involvement. And this, I believe, is precisely the kind of loving that modern man is hungry for. He is very confused by his sexuality, and it has become for him the alpha and omega of his existence. Deep within him he senses that ful-fillment iiavolves more than sex, but he finds it hard to translate this vague inner feeling into the language of everyday living because he does not find enough lovers who think much differently from the way he does. Modern man can learn a great deal from a religious who appreciates his sexuality enough to give it just enough importance in his life, but no more than that. How much it can mean for the confused modern to experi-ence a love which accepts him not for anything he has, but only for what he is. This alone is enough to be redemptive for many men and women. It seems as if there is in the heart of man a yearning for the model lover who is strong enough in serf-mastery to be free to be a kind of savior for others. In the folklore of most nations and tribes there are redemptive figures who, most often, were celibates during the time of their inessianic mission. We have only to recall the mythical warriors of the Far East and of-Indian culture, the many versioned prince myths of the early Middle Ages, the knights of King Arthur, and even in our own coun-try, the man of the West, the hero of the desert and prairie. Let us think of this last figure [or a moment. In story and song he has been pictured as a man of great physi-cal and moral strength. But primarily he is a man on a redemptive mission, living only for others. He rides into a town, bringing his honesty and integrity. He is manly; but also gentle with women. He is compassion-ate toward the poor and helpless. He stamps out evil and plants the seeds of goodness and truth. He brings sal~cation to a village. And when his redemptive mission is accomplished, this celibate lover accepts the love that people can give him in return for his, but he never de-mands it. Then, 'his work finished, he rides of[ alone to anbther ~¢illage and other people who need his kind of loving in order to be redeemed, to be liberated. In a similar way the modern religious celibate ac-complishes his redemptive mission. What he really gives to others is a portion of his own gift of freedom. He too will have to "ride" alone, but only in the sense of not having a single exclusive love relationship. For as he grows in his own mature sense of .freedom he ,will 'be enriched by many deep and beautiful love relationships. And this too becomes a gift to be shared with others, the gift of knowing how to put love and sexuality into a splendid and yet practical perspective. The task of integrating these two elements is always a difficult one. But one insight is very important. A sister, during a weekend workshop with .married couples, ex-pressed it well. She said: "You know, before this Week-end I had planned to leave my religious community. But now, I'm not so sure. You see, I thought my problems were the problems of a celibate religious, and I dis-covered that they are the problems of a woman. I found married women with the same basic problems, and they are making better adjustments to. them than I have been doing." This is so very true. Most of our problems are ,not the result of our celibacy but of our humanness. Neither marriage nor sexual intercourse will resolve our ten-sions. These will be resolved when we learn how to be-come truly human and loving. Then it will be possible for the celibate way of life to be rewarding for us and redeeming for others. It is then that we can demonstrate to others a love that is most beautiful because it is least demanding. Celibacy will not automatically make us great lovers, but a lover who understands and values his celibacy can be a model lover for others, a lover who is free enough to be able to free others. Certainly it is this kind of loving that is needed so desperately today by modern man who no longer feels lovable or loved. It may well be that only when he .ex. periences such undemanding love will he be ~onvinced of the genuine value of Christ's love. It may be that he will be able to believe in the celibate lover of Calvary only after he has come to believe in other celibates who can surrender, as He did, one of the most priceless gifts that God has given them. Perhaps .then, when he sees us free enough to surrender our sexuality for his sake, he may come to believe that he really is worth sav-ing and that God does care about him after all. It is a knowledge that many men still seek when they come ih contact with celibate lovers. These, then, are some of my reflections on the vows as ways of becoming free. I would like to understand the vows as ways of enabling us to be free enough to make it possible for others to believe in themselves. I would.like ÷ ÷ ÷ The Counsels,~ . VOLUME' 28~' 1969" '° :. ,183 + to think that we can be free from the obsessive need to accumulate things, free to surrender ourselves to others, free to love deeply and warmly. And that is why I feel that we must seek new insights concerning the vows. A young high school student, talking, about religious life and the vows, was asked what kind of religious com-munity he would have if he were to start one tomorrow, The young man said: "Well; I don't think I would make them take any vows." But then he paused and reflected on that, and he added a sentence that sums up the whole meaning of the vows and the religious life. He said: "Unless it would be possible to take a vow., to love." If that were truly the spirit behind our vows, they would be, for us, ways of becoming free. Finally, it is well to remember that the way of the vows is the way of Christ Himself. It is the way of a man with a mission to set men free. And the men of Christ's time were not so very different from the men of our day: angry, restless, rebellious, indifferent, frightened, and insecure, yet searching for a Christ-person who would be their liberator. Christ walked into their midst, heard their cry, and showed them a way of life that was for them a way of freedom. He showed them how to be free~ from the de-humanizing demands of the law and tradition, free from the imprisoning fear of what people might say, free from the overconcern about food and power and sex. Christ showed them a way of poverty and obedience and celibate love. Today we, as .religious, stand in the place of Christ to continue His redemptive mission, to be His witnesses. If we can find better ways to be what we say we are, then we too can arise in the assembly and announce to the world that we also have been sent to "bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound." And hopefully, people will hear us not because of what we say, but because of what we are: witnesses. Perhaps the following lines spell that out for us in clearer language: A witness is A man who stands out Because he is not afraid to stand up A man who outreaches others Because he reaches out to other.s Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 184 A man who lifts others up Because he bends down to their weakness A man whose heart has grown great Because he has learned to become small A witness is all this and more He is a man who walks across the wastelands Of human lives And uncovers hidden springs A man who opens windows everywhere To the sunlight and springtime fragrance Of the risen Christ And passing through the doors of seILfilled hearts He lights and leaves behind An everlasting flame Ultimately a witness is a man who does all these things Because He is not afraid To love. The CoUnsels VOLUME 28, 1969 I85 CARL J. PETER Culture and the Vocation Crisis Carl J. Peter teaches theology and lives at Curley Hall, Box 49; Cath-olic University of America in Wash-ington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A change has occurred in the way young men and women view the prospect of becoming a priest, lay brother, or nun. At the very least they manifest less en-thusiasm or inclination along these lines. One may ask when this began or indeed inquire whether it has not just begun. Few, I think, will challenge the proposition itself. This change of attitude is very definitely evidenced by those who have matriculated in the Catholic school sys-tem. One encounters it in the Mary and Johnny of whom but a few years back while they were still on the primary level in parochial schools, we asked why they could not read. All of this is true and will be conceded by those who regard the situation as healthy no less than by those who regard it as disastrous. Religious Convictions and the Young The change in question has causes that are closely connected with religious conviction or its lack. There is an obvious hesitancy on the part of youth, an unwilling-ness or an unreadiness to embrace as a state of life the ministry of the gospel in its traditional form. But it is a great oversimplification, I feel, to assign as a total ex-planation a weakening or loss of faith. In some cases, + precisely the opposite is true. + At least many of the young people involved are any- + thing other than lacking in generosity. Interest in im-proving the lot of tbeir fellow man characterizes their mental and emotional outlook. Here is where the diffi-culty lies. In ever increasing numbers they fail to see this humanitarian interest connected with the life of the priesthood, sisterhood, and brotherhood. One may contend that this is because of the present conditions in which these callings are lived and exercised, because, for example, so much of a priest's time and 18fi energy is spent in activities that have no apparent con- nection with the betterment of mankind or at least one that is very minimal. Devoting each Monday to counting the collection; running off the Sunday bulletin on the rectory or parish duplicator; keeping the books for the school hot lunch program--the instances could be multi-plied. Now it is surely a mistake to associate a priest's work exclusively with such activities. But to ask young people to ignore this aspect is expecting a bit too much. A large part of the problem with regard to vocations is that prospective candidates see too much activity on the part of the cleric or religious" too little connected with making mankind's future better than its past. Liturgy and a Life Choice But this is not all. Even in cultic functions associated with the administration of the sacraments, there is real difficulty. Whether humanity is genuinely better off be-cause of all this divine worship is a question posed over and over again. Here it is not a matter of poorly or sel-dom exercised functions of the priest but rather the im-portance pure and simple of such fimctions in the world at all. Many adults recognize this and conclude that the vocation crisis connected with such questioning is really a crisis of faith. My contention, however, is that at least some of these difficulties and doubts in the religious realm are caused by a cultural change that affects the entire world of man in all its facets. The crisis of vocations is connected often enough with a corresponding crisis of faith. This is not so much because many have simply ceased to believe but rather because the atmosphere in which they have grown up and live demands a choice between conflict-ing values, religious ones included. As a result, young people find it both harder to reject the latter outright and yet more difficult as well to embrace them fully. The reason is that our day is one of cultural transformation with all that this involves. If this is anything other than self-evident, it is nevertheless important. The Meaning of Cultural Change To make the statement that culture has a great deal to do with the unrest experienced by youth and indeed believers in general is hardly a novelty today. It is intro-duced into the present context with the hope that it will be more than a mere repetition. To achieve this will re-quire making an effort to clarify what is meant by cul-tural change. Only then will others be able to judge whether this is in fact what is taking place with profound religious consequences. Such explanation is precisely what is lacking in a number of other attempts to trace the believer's troubles to this same source. Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 18'/ Carl .I. Peter REVIE%' FOR RELIGIOUS Examples may be of help. Leslie Dewart has con-nected the present plight Of Christianity with a retention of Hellenism or Hellenistic culture.x There is nothing to be gained from adding one more name to the list of critics of The Future of Belief.2 It is, however, a far from easy task to determine what he means by Hellenism. And yet this is quite important for his contention. Something very similar is true of Bishop John Robin-son. 8 He contends that the present difficulties of Chris-tianity are in great part connected with the fact that fundamental truths are being rejected wholesale because they are presented in a "supranaturalistic" mode of thought: The latter is surely a cultural phenomenon, but one that is extremely vague. It seems to involve a world picture with God outside the physical and psychic uni-verse but intervening now and again. To retain such a world picture, he writes, is incompatible with being a truly modern man. Meaningful truths fall under the weight of their utterly unacceptable trappings that bear witness to a dead culture. But here precisely is his problem. God, for Robinson, is not intended to be the product of a culture. Yet if one cannot tell what you mean by the latter, you do run the risk of having others hard pressed to determine whether you really stand for a God who endures despite a cultural change. At this point some are probably wondering whether it is not precisely a crisis o[ faith that must be dealt with. Perhaps it is. But to no small degree it is first of all a cultural crisis leaving its marks on all of us. Bishop Robinson may not have been successful in explaining what he means by a change of culture. He has never-theless described well the period in which we are living. It is the age of the overlap, the period in which some-thing very new is still in the process of emerging. Ours is a period of tension or dialectic. Hopefully a beneficial synthesis will be the outcome. One thing is sure; neither of the two extremes in the present picture culturally is likely to remain as is. Both are going to be modified and remarkably so. But it is the present state that must be analyzed, again with the observation that understanding what is happening is a first step toward dealing reason-ably and effectively with the situation. Good practice depends on an accurate assessment of what is involved. Dewart and Robinson call attention to the pangs in-volved in the change through which we are living. Both are agreed on this. An old culture is in the process 1 Leslie Dewart, The Future of Belie[ (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966). '-' See the remarks of Jaroslav Pelikan and Bernard J. F. Lonergan in Theological Studies, v. 28 (1967), pp. 352-6 and 336-51 respec-tively. s John A. T. Robinson, Honest to God (London: SCM, 1963). of dying. It does not offer a form that religious belief will find viable in the future.4 In my opinion they are correct; the. cultural state we are now in cannot last. Indeed it takes no prophet to see that it will not. An-other thing is equally sure. Things will not revert to the way they were before all this began, whenever that was. The present situation makes that abundantly clear. Culture and Values Our age is.witnessing a remarkable conflict of values, and they are not directly religious in nature. At least they can be and are embraced by those who avowedly profess or practice no religion at all as well as by various types of believers in a Supreme Being. Now if this is true, it is also a prerequisite for understanding the cultural crisis of the present. For what 3[ mean by culture involves at0 the very least values and indeed a'more or less connected set of values. My contention is that we are living in a period of.history where there is a particularly fierce struggle between two opposing sets of purely human values. If some sort of synthesis is the most likely and desirable outcome, still, living in the overlap can be confusing. Two sets of values compete; each has something ~o be said for it, something to commend it. For many this is stimulating, but for no small number, ever increasing knowledge, acquaintance, and experience preclude, decisions on a clear course of action. In fact at times the result is paralysis or choices no sooner made than regretted, commitments given and then retracted. But if a convict of values can lead to these practical consequences, what sort of values are in question? The Good and Its Modes Getting things done or a sense of practical "know-how" has from the earliest days been a characteristic of our country. Indeed, it was very quickly identified ~with Yankees and their ingenuity. To put this another way, achievemerit and performance are values long esteemed by our society. And yet as ea'rly as the War between the States they were sought after in two radically opposed ¯ ways. Preservation of a heritage was the performance one section of the nation desired; improvement, refine. ment, elimination of defects and evils inspired the other. Concretely the value of performance, know-how, or achievement was realized in two conflicting ways. Given the question of freedom and human dign.ity, it is dear ~For a case along the same line but developed with heavy dependence on American Pragmatism as a philosophical basis, see Eugene Fontinell, "Religious Trtith in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 16 (1967), pp. 283-315. 4- 4- 4- ¥ocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ,196~ Carl ~ J.~ Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 190 that a moral issue was at stake. But there were other as-pects as well; for instance, strict or loose construction of the Constitution. Both forms of interpretation were religiously' neutral if not secular. Both likewise had ref-erence to the value of performance. But the way the lat-ter was realized in North and South led to tension, strife, and conflict. The situation afterwards was never the same again. There is something in this history that repeats itself. Clinging to tradition and the progress achieved in the past claims the allegiance of certain minds and hearts. It is likely true that this will always be the case. Still others are no less moved by the desire to strike out and move ahead in man's endless effort to better his~lot on this planet. Education offers another example. The value of a teacher's performance is judged in terms of pedagogical goals. Some maintain the educator aims at handing on truth, with the supposition that humanity has already achieved it in a way that can be improved but never fundamentally surpassed. By instinct and. reasoned con-viction others look for the teacher or professor to en-gage together with the student in a quest for truth. The assumption is that there is always more worth looking for and in comparison with which the knowledge at-tained is partial and incomplete. Now neither of these attitudes toward pedagogical goals is directly religious. Neither is exclusively demanded by Catholic faith. But the adoption of either as a value has religious implica-tions. An illustration may be of assistance. A question arises that is new and demands some sort of response or answer. Before doing anything else, the man or woman influenced by the value of preserving truth will attempt to solve the present case by recourse to precedents. Only too often this involves making the present in its unique-ness conform, whether it really does or not, with norms that were established earlier but without the slightest intention of binding all future generations. The value of preserving truth and past achievements translates itself religiously into that of fidelity. If the past has no claim to direct our own religious history, then there was no uniqueness in the event we call the Incarnation. Then God has not involved Himself irrevocably and finally in the history of man long before 'our day. When one re-gards0 education as a process of passing on certain truths, he is predisposed to be concerned religiously with the fidelity of God and man. A cultural value, namely pi:eserving the accomplishments of the past, can and does have profound religious consequences in thought and action. But education can also be conceived of as performance involving an unending quest [or truth. In this case, when one makes the transposition to a religious level, the goal is a search for the God who even after revelation in Jesus is still a mystery and to know whom is really to be yet groping even when one gropes with the aid of infallible direction. St. Paul offers a good example of this. In his Epistle to the Romans he spends three chapters (9-11) studying the will of God as concretely realized in the plan of salvation for Gentile and Jew. Interpreting the hist6ry of his own day as God's saving providence, he obviously presupposes that man can .know the divine will. And yet he concludes with a hymn proclaiming "that no one realiy knows the mind of the Lord. All subsequent Christian theology has been an at-tempt to grapple with the great mystery that God remains even after He reveals Himself to man. His ways are mysterious and yet sure, free and yet faithful. To em-phasize one over the Other leads to a lopsided theology. But why would one be inclined to do this? The reason is clear enough. There is a tendency to do so, one deriving from culture today especially. That culture is complex; it evokes diverse responses, some calculated to preserve the truth and goodness that have already been achieved and others aimed at improving both in the future. The result is cultural tension with theological consequences of the first order. When a question arises on a religious or doctrinal level, for those inclined to revere the past it is not a matter of being faithful pure and simple. There is a cultural fac-tor inclining them to their position. Others are more ready to strike out [or the new and unknown. Here it is the mystery of God and His dealings with man that will enthrall them. What has been said of Him in the past, even in infallible "utterances, is true enough but insuffi-cient. Their great law is: "Thou shalt not have strange Gods before me." They do not wish to worship idols rather than the true God; and it is no less idolatrous to worship one's image of God than it is to adore wood, or stone, or precious metals. Here again, however, the inclination is not purely religious; it is cultural. These are the men and women who in any event are more moved by a goal that is worthwhile and possible than by achievements that are already a fact but with clear defects. ,4pplication to Present Conditions It is in the realm of attitudes that one must look for evidence of culture or values held in esteem or disrepute. Our culture involves an ambivalence of attitudes with regard to the present in its relation to the future. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28° 1969 .!. ÷ Carl I. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 19~ Contemporary forms are generally considered inade-quate in the long run to meet humanity's needs of the near future. If one insists that this is not true in the religious sphere, youth is expected to assert that m6- rality and faith are somehow not part of the changing world. This is only too evidently false. It is also discourag-ing. If true, it would surely follow that from neither could man hope for much improvement. When the past is loved too much and present values, cherished too intensely, the inevitable result is that fewer and fewer young people will spend their lives ina performance directed to preserving it. This attitude has been wide-spread and is showing its effects. The cultural cry of more and more of the young is "On to the Future" by radical change of the present. Confronted with the evils man has injected into his world, they find an attractiveness in this value. That it conflicts with the former is obvious. That the result is confusion, tension, unease, unwillingness or inability to commit oneself fully to one or the other is not sur-prising. Neither value is directly religious. Each has religious implications and does sometimes presuppose a lessening or even loss of religious commitment. But to concentrate on this would be to try to cure a symptom. Our whole society knows it must change and change radically. And yet unless we learn from the past, from its successes as well as its failures, we shall grope with-out any guidelines or the slightest assurance that what we learn today will help tomorrow and not hinder, Man's leap forward came.from a spirit of adventure and a lack of willingness to be content with the status quo. This is true of man whether he professed a religion or not. Youth today knows it. They look for a willingness to take this risk in religion and its leaders. But they also realize that man's advance has been accompanied by a multiplication of evils in the form of wars, famine, and untold human suffering. It was paid for in the form of untold labor and often shortened life spans "of pioneers. Today many of them are asking whether progress at such a price and with such attendant evils is worth it after all. It is a question of values and attitudes. Not a few seem to choose neither content-ment with the past nor striving to improve the future, at least not by joining existing organizations to achieve this. In the sense of the two alternatives, they seem to be opting out as close to altogether as is possible. Among their eiders, those who cling to the past do so not wholly because of faith, and those who strive to ob-tain the improvement of the future surely are not so motivated solely because of basic religious conviction or its lack. It is in both cases a cultural response elicited by the world in which they live. To be cautious is a value; to be adventuresome no less so. Neither in itself is reli-gious. Those inclined to esteem the former expect it most of all in religion; those who prefer the latter look for it above all in the area of faith and faith-inspired life. There is a crisis all right, but one stemming fi:om a com-plex culture or set of opposing values, each of which has something to be said for it. How easy it would all be if it were otherwise. It would be a mistake to overlook this when considering the situation of young men and women choosing or living out a religious vocation. Maximum E~ciency versus Involvement There is another pair of values related to achievement. Is the latter the work of one or many? Some are loners and find it hard to be any other way. But today it is extremely difficult to stand alone in achievement. The individual source of inspiration, one overseer or director iqith the power to make decisions--this leads at times to unquestionably greater efficiency and permits the de-termination of responsible agents in various fields. For some this is still a most desirable good. Society needs the great man as leader; the Church, the truly independent bishop and pope. But for others worthwhile goals are achieved only in the close cooperation of many laboring in a basically similar frame of mind despite difficulties. This implies the initiative not only of the leader but of many cooperating and participating as fully as possible in the endeavor. Neither attitude is basically religious. This is again witnessed in the pedagogical order. Why do so many professors today have such trouble with classes when they employ the lecture system? The latter is surely not something religious or irreligious. Nor is it that professors lecture without the ability of their predecessors. And yet in ever increasing numbers, courses based solely on this method are being phased out be-cause they are not being heard or listened to. The teacher who simply lectures today has to be a lot better than one who did the same fifty years ago just to accomplish as much. The reason is simple. To such an approach there is opposition that is neither religious nor irreligious but rather cultural. It arises from the conviction that truth and other values are to be sought not solely or primarily through the energy of one man directing the receptivity of others but through the combined efforts of many. The planning of seminary curricula is taking note of this. So must the charting of course for a parish or diocese if they are to achieve their respective goals. To think that papal primacy, episcopal collegiality, or lay initiative will not be affected by this cultural factor is disastrous, especially in dealing with prospective vocations. If this ÷ ÷ ÷ Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ].9~9 Cad ]. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]94 is obviously hard for some to accept, it is important nonetheless. Achievements of the Paso Some men and women tend to concentrate on the good that has already been attained and are pleased with past efforts as well as optimistic about the state of the union, whatever union may be involved. Others view past achievements with guarded reserve or more often criti-cism, positive or negative. These are human attitudes not particularly connected with religion more than with politics or economics. But they do affect the way one re-gards formulations of Christian faith. Have the conciliar determinations helped or are they, though true, in their own way very limited? As regards present institutions, few adamantly deny they have accomplished some, indeed tremendous good. But what of the defects? They are pres-ent as well. Revelation does not direct attention to either exclusively. The way one evaluates other things will have a great deal of influence here. But that is clearly in the realm of rational attitudes more or less con-sciously adopted; namely, culture and not religion di-rectly as such. Analysis or Comprehensive View Is it the big picture or the details that are most im-portant? There is no divine law answering this. In terms of values, is it generality and simplicity in viewing a phenomenon as a whole or rather attention to its com-plexity that matters? Emphasis on the latter assures that whatever is said or decided today may well have to be modified tomorrow. Decisions taken may have to be reconsidered or retracted. Contrariwise one may aim at certain values that at least as goals do not change but are ever more closely approximated. The affective con-sequences of both approaches are clear enough. Com-mitments in the one frame of reference can hardly be irrevocable; in the other they can surely be so. On a practical religious level, are all decisions subject to re-call at will, for example, to the existence of a God, an after-life, the imperative of working to make life better [or others? Or are they simply the best one can give here and now? It is clear that conflicting cultural values have in this instance created tension in human life, not least of all in its religious sphere. Certainty and Conjecture To continue, is certainty a value above others, or is statistical probability all man can ~chieve in most in-stances? But certainty is popularly connected with hope.-- one does not hope unless convinced there is a good chance o~ getting or doing or being what is hoped for. And yet probability is likewise connected with hope; one does not hope for what is already a sure thing, somethingpr~deter-mined and open in no way to chance. To what does one aspire, the certain or the probable?. The Marxist experiences this. Should he hope for the classless society or not? If he does not because he feels that it is certain to come about, lethargy.will likely result. But if its appearance is not inevitable, his efforts alter all may be futile, all of which need not but may lead to despair. As to the Christian, must he hope that the divine kingdom come? If its advent cannot be frus-trated, what need to hope; if otherwise,, why hope when alter all sheer chance may reign supreme?. Antithetical Ideals I have tried to indicate certain human values in two connected sets. They deal with the practical, .the order o~ doing and achievement. Preservation of the past through the work of the leader who sees and inspires others to grasp the whole picture wi.th optimism c6upled with caution and deliberate pace regarding change--this is one set. And yet there is another in competition: the improvement o~ the future through the.cooperation o[ many in thought, action, and suffering, with attention to the manifold of details accompanied with criticism of past failures and a sense of urgency for future reme-dies. These interconnected values art both vying for man's acceptance at the present time. He has opted for neither. Confronted by them both, he is very often at a loss; now this and now that seems better. They affect the very depth of his being and yet are religious only in the sense of having to do with the meaning of life, a mean-ing he has to choose freely. Still his relations with or-ganized religion cannot but be affected by this tension, unrest, and hesitancy. Because religion is obviously con-nected with these values though by no means identical with them, he is probably as interested as at any time in his history with religion as an academic discipline but as disinclined as never before to see any religious organi-zation as offering a permanent way of life for himself. This has affected the attitude o~ many toward religious vocations in particular. In my opinion it justifies the proposition that the so-called vocation crisis is only indirectly a crisis of faith and directly one of culture. Religious Ministry in the Overlap More is called for today than detached analysis in this area. This is especially true in the case of those who are convinced that an increase in the number of religious vocations is o~ great importance for the Church and the 4- .4- 4- Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 195 rest of humanity. As a result it may not be out of place to offer a number of suggestions. They will deal with atti-tudes that can be fostered with the aim of encouraging priestly and religious vocations during the period of the cultural overlap. First of all, in both of the competing sets of values, practical certainty is present and operative. The certainty of conviction makes men cling to the past; it drives others to strive for the future. This is certainty at least strong enough to be the guiding rationale and emo-tional factor for living a whole li~e. Too much certainty with regard to the past was an error. A great price has been paid for it. Today, youth is actually afraid of being certain and yet often paralyzed because uncertain. The man who strives for change is doing so only because of a practical conviction that striving is important, worth-while, possible, and not futile. In this sense, certainty is no more missing in him than in' his counterpart. If this impression can be conveyed to youth, the certainty of basic truths of faith will be less repellent. Secondly, another value found in both sets is persever-ance. It is because of a deep-rooted conviction that does not change that the men of science change hypotheses. A religious conviction once thought over and adopted need not shut a man off Lrom the way other men adopt in living. It should not make him closed. Indeed he can be open precisely because he has made a fundamental decision. No one is more closed than he who has made no decision at all regarding the meaning of life. Fre-quently such a man's desire to be open precludes his doing anything of lasting significance. To be con-temporary is not to be a Hamlet. To be ever ready to learn more regarding life's meaning is not to be ready to change one's mind because of simple discouragement or the realization that difficulties will in all likelihood never be completely removed. The applicability of this lesson to the realm of priestly and religious vocations is obvious. It will not, however, be grasped unless one re-calls that these are matters not merely of faith and revela-tion but also of culture. Carl 1. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i JOSEPH E. MULLIGAN, s.J. The Religious Dimension of Human Love The current experimentation with various styles of religiou~ dress is certainly a welcome development in the post-conciliar Church. It is becoming clear to Cath-olics and non-Catholics alike that today's sister is very much a woman of the twentieth century, a woman con-secrated to God and united with Christ and at the very same time intensely concerned about the joys and problems, successes and failures of the present world. She is sensitive to the needs of modern men and women, open to new trends in human thought'(such as personal-ism and Christian existentialism)~ efficient in her use of modern means of serving humanity, and orientated to the near and distant future in her apostoli.c thinking. Au courant styles of religious dress do not insure that all this will be true of every sister who dons the new garb, but at the very least it can be said that the new fashions do not militate against the entirely proper "new image" now being created by today's sisters both young and old. Updated religious habits may even foster an interior aggiornamento where it is lacking or lagging; and where the Spirit has already begun to "renew the face of the earth" so that the love enkindled by Him can shine forth for all to see, the sister will welcome the external change as a true sign of the interior renewal which is under way. While the new fashions serve this purpose of bringing today's sister visibly into the twentieth century, they also serve to bring out the distinctly feminine quality of the Christian charity which fills her heart and inspires her life of service. This important point is receiving its due attention by psychologists, counselors, and theologians; here we need only mention the fact that the changes in the dress o[ religious women are closely associated with the emergence, in their own consciousness and in that of all the world, of their God-given and God-beloved ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Mulligan, &J., is a member of Bellarmine School of Theology; North Aurora, Illinois 6O542. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ Mulligan, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 femininity. How important it is that the feminine, ma-ternal dimension of the love of God, whom we always address as Father and whom we almost always think of in masculine terms, be incarnated and effectively com-municated to the human family. In this connection we readily recognize (it is not a question of "admitting," as if grudgingly) the truth of a point suggested by a famous psychologist: that in Christian piety a tender devotion to Mary fulfills a profound need of the human heart and soul, namely, to relate to a heavenly Mother. It is true, of course, that God the Father and Jesus Christ the Son manifest many of the qualities ordinarily associated with human mother-hood: tenderness, mercy, compassion, and above all, love which is given profusely without demanding a com-mensurate response. But it is Mary who, in the religious consciousness of the faithful, is the Mother par excellence, showering upon her children her maternal love and re-ceiving from them, often though not always, their love and trust in return. The religious woman has a position in the divine economy of salvation analogous to that of Mary. In the eminently feminine charity shown by the religious teacher, nurse, home missionary, and others, the human family can see and feel the maternal qualities of the boundless love of God for them. The sister can bring this love directly into the classroom, hospital, or home--and in this the sister can be more effective than Mary in com-municating the love of God to men. For Mary is present to her children only in times of prayer, and the experi-ence of her love requires faith; the sister can be present to the human family in all situations of life and in very concrete ways which are perfectly visible to "natural" eyes. Adaptations in dress, then, are worthwhile and valu-able in at least these two important respects: in placing sisters visibly in the midst of the twentieth century and in accentuating the distinctly feminine characteristics of their love and service to mankind. In most instances the adaptation of which we are speaking has taken the form of a reduction or lightening of the habit to the extent that some sisters have only a 'veil of some sort (or even less) as the external symbol of 'their consecration to God and their special union with Christ. This trend is entirely praiseworthy, as we have stated above. How-ever, the question soon arises about the necessity of re-taining any distinctive signs. Should. the nursing sister simply wear the same uni-form as that of her colleagues in the profession? Should the teaching sister wear a variety of styles readily oh, tainable at the downtown department store? Should the i home missionary don a smart and comfortable business woman's suit? In the opinion of this male observer, the answer is a qualified "no." This is undoubtedly the opin-ion of the vast majority of sisters: there is deep value in the external symbols of one's religious profession. Pre-cisely what forms these symbols should take in order that they be appropriate for our modern age'is a matter which will have to be handled largely through experi-mentation; developments to date have been in the right direction, but certainly not definitive (perhaps we should expect and accept constant adaptation in this matter, as in the liturgy). Though all agree on the necessity of retaining symbols, be they ever so "modernized," it may prove worthwhile to review one of the most substantial reasons for our insistence upon retaining externals of some sort. To this writer, one of the most cogent "arguments" for the existence and activity of God is the astounding love which breaks out (who can say how often?) in this world of ours. This love can be "astounding" even if it be only a kind word at the right time, a friendly "hello" offered in passing, or a thoughtful gesture only slightly out of the ordinary. The more dramatic or "heroic" act of love--such as the total personal commitment of marriage or of the religious life--is all the more revela-tory of the power of God operative in the hearts of men. Experience teaches us that there is something wonder-ful in a person who has risen above the childish and petty egocentrism which in various forms infects hu-manity. And in divine revelation we have a clear state-ment of the truth to which experience opens us: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." Though this writer finds this train of thought most interesting and helpful, many in our modern world find it something less than immediately exciting. The con-nection between human love at its best and the power of God very often goes unnoticed. Deep, strong love (in many cases of a calibre worthy of imitation by many a nominal Christian) abounds in the heart and soul of a great number of men who consider themselves "atheists" or "agnostics" or "secular humanists" but who probably qualify as "anonymous Christians." We have good reasons as well as strong inclinations to consider these noble hu-man persons as brothers of Christ and sons of God, heirs of the same eternal life which we Christians hope to at-tain (see Mt 95:31--45). The modern man who is truly Christlike in his charity is surely a brother of Christ and a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is indeed the Spirit of Love. Such a person need only be brought to an explicit awareness of his true position before God. Whether this Human Love VOLUME 28, 1969 199 J. E. Mulligan, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2O0 exp1icitation is absolutely necessary for salvation, is a theological question which we cannot take up here; that it is.desirable and beneficial for the person, that it is the will of God, and that it is the proper task of the mission-ary Church cannot be doubted. How then is the connection between great human love and the power of God to be drawn clearly in the minds of men? How will men of good will come to real-ize their true religious identity? Surely this wonderful moment of recognition can follow immediately upon a strong experience of being loved with a love surpassing the powers of our wounded human nature. Who can know the unsearchable ways of God, the ways in which He can make His presence known in the hearts of men? What we can know, however, is that God has estab-lished in His Church certain "ordinary" ways by which men should be able to see the connection of which we are speaking, that is, the religious context of all genuine human love. The liturgy, for instance, consists basically of ritual acts of human love, no less authentic for being ritual, set in an abundantly sacred context; the religious life as a visible institution is meant also to be a sign Of the intimate link between love and Love. The woman who loves her neighbor with a striking love and who clearly derives the sustenance for this extraordinary love from her union with God stands as a powerful sign of the connection with which we are concerned. The religious proclaims to the world that love, and especially continuing growth in love, depends upon our cooperation with the Spirit of Love whom Jesus Christ pours forth upon humanity, thereby accom-plishing the work of redemption. If this proclamation is to be effective, however, two elements must be safe-guarded and nurtured: the fraternal love must be sincere and genuine, or else it will strike no one and will fail to touch off the wonder which points to God; secondly, the person showing this genuine love must also show some clear sign of her relationship with God, or else her love will be viewed as nothing more than the highest flowering o[ the human spirit. A true combination of both these elements can be nothing short of overwhelming. The student will be deeply struck one day, perhaps far in the future, by the inestimable service given him by the sister in the seventh grade; and he will ask him-self whether her union with God, somehow manifest, might have had anything to do with her capacity to love so generously and so constantly. The patient in the hospital will find kindness and competent care in the person of the nursing sister at a time when he is most in need of these precious gifts; he will undoubtedly find himself wondering whether her slightly distinctive uni- form may signify a Power greater than herself gently assisting her human heart. The family in Appalachia or in one of our big city ghettoes, olSpressed and exploited by an unconcerned affluent society, will be touched by the "no strings attached" help given by the visiting sister; the family will see that this remarkable woman is in love with both God and them at the same time, as if the one love is identical with the other. This, then, is one reason (to this writer the most im-portant and most meaningful) for retaining some form of distinctive religious dress. By all means, let sisters continue to experiment with new styles in an attempt to find more appropriate twentieth century symbols of religious profession. Also, let sisters continue to try on new and appropriate fashions which will not bushel-basket that femininity which is absolutely essential for incarnating the love of God in all its breadth and beauty. However, for the reason which we have suggested in the latter part of this article and for other reasons which may be equally cogent, let us not throw out the baby (appropriate and necessary symbolism) with the bath (outmoded and "sexuality neutralizing" costumes). The religious must be in tune with the times, di.stinctly masculine or feminine, a living proof of the connection between true human love and the Spirit of Love. 4, VOLUME.28, 1969 201 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Biblical Concept of Virginal Love Thomas Dubay, S.M., teaches at Russell College; 2300 Adeline Drive; Burlingame, Cali-fornia 94010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 202 Half an eye trained on recent ,religious thin.king in-forms one that a great deal of literature has appeared in the last decade on the psychology of loving in the Chris: tian context. For the most part this has been a praise-worthy effort to broaden the place and sharpen the orientation of human love within the ecclesial commu-nity; yet one still frequently finds considerable diver-gence of view among, religious men and women as to how the generally agreed upon norms are to be prac-ticed in concrete situations. We wish in this essay not simply to tread over worn terrain but to suggest some specifics, specifics stemming from Scripture and virgin-ity. We primarily envision religious women, although with some modifications what we say concerns men as well. Philosophical Roots Even though our main intent is Biblical and practical, we may preface our discussion with several philosophical considerations. In the long run practical solutions to knotty problems are no better than their (often merely assumed and unexpressed) theoretical substructure. At the same time speculation must always be in touch with experience, with concrete, here and now reality. Because she is a person, a human person, a feminine human person, the sister must love warmly. Her love must appear, be visible. Why? Because virginal love is incarnated, not angelic. It is human and a witness to humans. For a reason we shall point out later this is to say that it is affectionate. But because we are at the moment dealing with philosophy, not theology, we may leave the witness aside. Virginal love is incarnated and therefore affectionate because it is human love--steeped in supernatural moti-vation, of course, but still human. In fact, it cannot be anything else but' human. No being can act otherwise than as it is. We never expect a duck to perform as a camel. A woman can love only as a woman, a human being ot the feminine sex. Now human nature is in-carnated spirit, a dual reality, material-spiritual. Man is not monistic. Merleau-Ponty's negation ot a fundamental dualism in man is an oversimplification of human exist-ence. Man is not merely a body-subject, an I-body. The profound dualism in his sense-intellect knowing, to cite one example, is an irreducible pluralism that renders a human monism an inadequate explanation of available evidence. Human love, therefore, must also be dual,, it it is to be tully human and not something else. Like its source, the person, man's love must be rooted in spirit but shown through matter, conceived in soul but en-fleshed in body. Affectionate love is simply love incar-nated. It is a love that appears. One need not syllogize to its existence. As a daughter of Eve the religious woman does not loveproperly and fully until she loves affectionately. She is no exception to the roots of reality, no metaphysical oddity. She loves as she is. There is yet another reason why the virgin's love for 1hen is warm, composite, incarnated. It is a reason rooted in the deepest center of her being. She is good, a person good, and goodness tends to pour itself out. She is a social good, so she must pour herself out into others and receive these others back into herself. A woman (and a man, too, but not quite so pronouncedly) is never satis-fied until she loves. She cannot be satisfied unless she loves, for until she loves incarnatedly she is violating a law of being: goodness goes out; person goodness loves persons and shows it. This ontological factor works in the opposite direction as well. Because she is good and beautiful, the sister re-quires that her goodness and beauty be acknowledged, recognized in a way she can see and experience. To say this psychologically, she needs a strong self image, a self image she can derive only from others, from their appreciation and shown love. This is to say once again that deeply rooted in her human make-up is a need to receive affection. What we are implying, then, is that the religious woman's consecration does not exempt her from the laws of human nature or from the metaphysical structure ot the real. Scriptural Roots But still more must be said. There are supernatural reasons as well as natural ones tot saying that religious are to love warmly. Christian love is human love. It must therefore be affectionate. Shakespeare was pointing in the right direction when he observed that "they do Yirginal Love VOLUME ~'8, 1969 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 not love that do not show their love." x Christ himself was affectionate. He embraced children for no other verifiable reason than to love warmly and to show it. He "looked with love" on the rich young man, which is nothing other than to gaze affectionately. He wept at Lazarus' tomb, a remarkable display of feeling in a man. He who could fearlessly castigate the Pharisees could also correct Martha tenderly by repeating her name twice as a preface to his admonition. The letters of Paul, Peter, and John are replete with expressions of endearment and concern. Where could these originally rough men have learned this Christian way of loving if not from Christ? The Master had already made it clear that a Christian ¯ can be detected in the world by his observable love. Men are to see how we love, be struck by it, and con-clude from this sight who we are.2 Affectionate love can be seen. Cold or neutral love may not be noticed even when it is proved by deed., witness the merely efficient nurse. In any event merely willed love does not draw men as the Christian is to draw them. If the reli-gious is a gospel woman, she is an affectionate woman. She may be nothing else. Practical Implications So much for basic principles. They are plain, hardly subject to hot dispute. Not so, however, with concrete situations, problems, objections. Even a casual acquaint-ance with convent life makes clear that the whole area of close love relationships has been, and still often enough remains, subject to misunderstanding, to excess, to de-fect. One underestimates the complexities and depths of human nature if he believes that in this matter ~pecifics are as easy to handle as generalities. Because we think we recognize the difficulties inherent in our subject, our intent here is modest. We wish to propose some real questions and to suggest, for whatever value they may have, some honest answers. - How does a consecrated woman show a warm love in a manner appropriate to her state? Our first reaction to this question is to note that ordinarily a woman is a better judge of feminine warmth than a man is. And if she happens to be at the same time a holy woman, she knows by a kind of instinct how to love rightly. Yet a man may presume to suggest a few guides. Obviously enough, marks of affection vary greatly with the situa-tion of the recipient. A sister rightly embraces a first-grade boy who has fallen down the staircase, but she is The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act 1, Scene 2. Jn 13:M-5. likely to show her concern in another manner toward a twelfth-grader beset with a teenage problem. The New Testament offers many examples of what a holy, adult affection is like. There is the cordial, warm greeting,8 the holy kiss,4 the affectionate embrace,~ the loving gaze,n a warmth of manner in speech,r a kindly gentleness in the face of a brother's faults,s a tenderness and love in correcting others,9 a deep interest in the in-dividual and his concerns,1° an openness to all,ix a com-forting of those in trial and sorrowA~ Peter sums it all up in saying that our love is to be sincere and intense.~3 A prayerful study of these texts and many others like them will disclose to mogt of us that we have a long way to go before we love as Christians are supposed to love. Because the virgin is a model of evangelical life, she may not be anything but affectionate. The program of how this is to be done is plain enough in the Gosp.els and Epistles. She will find its implementation a lifetime task. She ma~ find it helpful to, work at this task in her par-ticular examen, taking as her specific guides one Scrip-tural theme or text at a time. Doing this she cannot help becoming a lovable woman. Is there not danger to chastity in this warm love? Yes, of course, there is danger, just as there is danger in the pursuance of any good, even the spiritual goods of the intellect. But one may not always solve "excess prob-lems" by removing the possibility of excess through a radical uprooting of the good. When the Master re-flected on the risk of worldliness in His apostles, He did not meet the problem by shutting off the possibility. Rather He explicity declared that they were to remain in the dangerous situation, in the world, but were to be kept free from being tainted by it.14 It is interesting, too, ~hat nowhere (as far as we can find) does the New Testa-ment indicate a concern about the dangers found in a holy affection. Perhaps the reason is that the genuine SRom 1:7; 16:3-16; 1 Cor 16:19; Phil 4:21-3; Col 4:7-18. ~Lk 15:20; Rom 16:16; 1 Cor 16:20; 2 Cor 13:12; 1 Th 5:26; I Pt 4:14. ~ Mk 10:16; Acts 20:37-8. ~ Mk 10:21. ~Rom I:11; 1 Cor 4:17; 15:58; 16:24; 2 Cor 7:~,I~; 10:I; Phil 1:7-8; 4:1; 1 Th 2:7-8,20; ~:1-7; 1 Tm 1:2; 1 Jn 2:1,7,12,14,18,28; ~ Jn 1,5,11; Jude ~,20. s Eph 4:2,~2; 2 Tim 2:24-5; 1 Pt 3:8-9. ~ Lk 10:41; 1 Cor 4:14; 2 Cor 2:4-8; Gal 6:1; Col ~:12-~. xo 1 Cor 12:26; 2 Cor 12:14-5; Phil 2:17-8; 1 Th 2:11. ~x 2 Cor 6:11-3. ~2 Cor 1:3-4; 7:6-7; 1~:11; £ph 6:22; Col 2:1-2; 1 Th 5:11; 2 Tim 1:16; Phlm 20. xs I Pt 1:22. :~Jn 17:14-7: "They are not oI the world, even as I am not of the world. I do not pray that thou take them out of the world, but that thou keep them ~rom evil." ¥irglnal Love VOLUME 28, 1969 205 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 206 man of God and the holy virgin know plainly enough-- because their honesty bares the deceitful motive--why really they are affectionate and how their love is ap-propriately shown. Warm affection is risky for the fool-ish virgin, the worldly virgin, but not for the wise and prayerful one. On the contrary, for the latter this kind of sisterly love protects and fosters her dedicated chastity: "Everyone should remember--superiors especially--that chastity has stronger safeguards in a community when true fraternal love thrives among its members." ~g If a sister is a woman of deep contemplative prayer, we need have little fear that her warm love for others will pose any proximate danger to her purity or to theirs. If she is not a prayerful woman, the opposite may well be the case. May a sister [oster a close [riendship with a priest or layman? At the outset of this article we already im-plied our affirmative reaction to this question. The ex-ample of Christ's love for Martha and Mary and that of the saints for persons of the opposite sex (for example, Teresa and Gratian, Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal) demand this affirmative response. And so does com-mon sense. Sexual love neither is co-terminous with geni-tal- sexual love nor requires it. The sexes are comple-mentary not only on the physical level but also on the emotional, intellectual, volitional, and supernatural lev-els. an The fact that the consecrated woman benefits from masculine influences (such as teaching, spiritual direc-tion) in her formation (and do not men profit £rom feminine influences in theirs?) suggests that she may grow as a religious woman through friendship with a man. Now all of this is being said with increasing frequency both in print and in private conference. But something else has also to be said. And it is rarely said. That this kind of close friendship be advisable demands conditions and qualifications. Not any apparently good male-female relationship may be said to correspond to that of Teresa and Gratian or Francis and Jane. We have already in-dicated what some of these qualifications are. Most of us would agree that a sister should show a sincere warmth toward all men and women, but we are not agreed as to what overdemonstrativeness may be. For our part we cannot share the view that embracing is a suitable sign of affection between religious persons of the opposite sexes. The current multiplication of tragedy that scan-dalizes the faithful and ruins consecrated lives plainly ~ Vatican II, Decree on Religious LiIe, n. 12. ~ See Chapter 3 of von Hildebrand's Man and Woman for a help-ful explanation of this complementarity. shows how naive this view really is. Some people learn only by personal disaster that they are like the rest of men. A propensity toward physical demonstrativeness suggests strongly that the friendship is not on the high-est supernatural level, that it is not thoroughly immersed in God, in a mutually deep prayer life. Unreasonably frequent or protracted conversations and deliberate ro-mantic daydreaming likewise cause one to wonder whether there is question of the love of the Holy Spirit. The virgin is concerned with the things of the Lord that she may be holy in body and in spirit and that she may .pray without distraction. In our view that priest or sister ~s naive who feels that long and frequent visits, kissing and embracing are conductive to the love of the Chris-tian virgin. If this is what "the third way" means, there is no third way. Even aside from the obvious.question of chastity, one may wonder regarding this type of relation-ship how intently the religious can be concerned with the things of the Lord, how deeply she can be committed to her life of contemplation and apostolic action. From the positive point of view a sister may rest as-sured that her love is fully virginal if the thought of the other suggests to her mind the thought of God; if the relationship really helps her to a deeper prayer life, a perfect observance of her rule, an evangelical spirit of detachment, a more profound loyalty to her own vir-ginal vocation and to the members of her own commu-nity, a ~niversal warmth toward others; if their con-versation or correspondence is concerned mainly with God and His affairs. If these norms for virginal love are correct, one may speculate that this sort of friendship is not at all as common as may be supposed. Is affectionate love compatible with the detachment demanded by the New Testament? Twenty years ago many of us would have returned an unhesitatingly nega; tive answer to this question or we would have at least felt inclined to such an answer. Today we more easily understand that warm love and evangelical detachment are reconcilable, although not too many are able to bar. monize new psychology with old spirituality. The prob-lem here, of course, is not a clash between oldness and newness but between sound psychology and twisted spir-ituality. Both affectionate love and gospel austerity are as valid today as they ever were, for the New Testament plainly teaches both of them over and over again. The simplistic mind is uncomfortable with complex dualities and it seeks to resolve a paradox by denying one pole of it. Two decades ago it was common to deny that warmly shown love was proper in a religious, while today it is popular to say that detachment is passd. Yet the New Testament teaches both the .one and the ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal VOLUME 28~ 1969' " ÷ ÷ Thomas l~bay REVIEW FOP. RELIGIOUS 208 other. It is the same Christ who demands that we re-nounce all things (Lk 14:33) and who embraces children warmly (Mk 10:16). The same John teaches that we must die like grain buried in the ground (Jn 12:24-5) and yet deals with the recipient~ of his first letter with remark-able terms of endearment (1 Jn 2, passim). The first letter of Peter warns against "selfish passions" (1 Pt 2:11), encourages a joy in sufferings (4:12-3) and at the same time urges intense brotherly love shown with a "kiss of love" (1:22; 5:14). The same Paul who cautions against superfluities and himself has nothing (1 Tim 6:7-8; 2 Cor 6:10) also loves his Christians with the warmth and tenderness of a deeply affectionate father (passim). Nowhere in the new revelation do we read the least hint of a clash. Why? Simply because affectionate love is by no means the same as selfish love. On the contrary, it is often a crucifying love. Showing affection to an attractive person is a delight, to a dull or cold individual it is a thorn. Moreover--and this is important and not always under-stood-- we should not see a dichotomy between loving God wholly and our neighbor warmly. Even less should we suppose an opposition. Precisely because Christian love is both one and incarnated but with several objects (God, ourselves, angels, neighbor), it must be warmly shown. This is why St. Paul looked upon the Romans as "God's beloved" (1:7). Because they were God's dear ones, they necessarily became Paul's dear ones in a virile yet intimate sense. Unshown love is a partial self-contradiction. We find this same warm affection in the most austere and detached of God's saints, for they knew what affectionate love and genuine detachment really mean. They did not live by caricature. One need only read the correspondence of an Augustine, a John Chrys-ostom, a Teresa of Avila, a Francis de Sales to see what we mean, Even John of the Cross (andwho could be remotely tempted to conceive him as lacking in detach-ment?), a man short on words but long on deeds, is said to have walked 30 or 40 miles barefooted to visit his warmly loved nuns at Beas. What we are saying, of course, is by no means opposed to the traditional detach-ment doctrine of these same saints. There is a certain in-tellectual snobbery implied in the suggestion one hears today that the goodness and value of love between the sexes, even between religious, is quite a new discovery unknown to our elders in the faith. And there is no little theological inadequacy implied in thinking that this kind of love somehow rules out an integral evangel-ical asceticism. How does One become affectionate? This apparently naive question is really a worthwhile question, one that is susceptible of several interpretations: How does a sister acquire a warm manner toward unattractive personali-ties? How does one love affectionately who feels no warmth toward anyone? How does a person deepen a warm manner she already possesses to some extent, yet not sufficiently? We shall take up each problem in turn. First, how can a sister who does love some people warmly acquire a warmth toward others whom she finds unappealing? If a woman (or man) can love some per-sons warmly and deeply, her problem is motivational, not psychological, when she is cold toward others. Ba-sically she is capable of full human love, since as a matter of fact she does love humanly the few people that appeal to her. But she does not see that the others are also lova-ble and so she is not at all inclined to go out toward them. She needs to develop a largeness of heart, an op-timism of viewpoint that searches out beauty and good-ness, the largeness and optimism of St, Paul who saw enough beauty and goodness in his new (but far from perfect) Christians that he could view them as "God's beloved." If God loves a man, that man must somehow be lovable. It is our task to find out how. The warmth is then easier to come by. Yet it is not come. by without a concomitant spirit of sacrifice. If affection is to be shown toall men and not only to a select few,~the cross of self-denial must indeed be taken up daily. Otherwise we can-not be disciples, if the mark of a disciple is a love men can see and experience. A more perplexing problem (for the person who ex-periences it) is a total lack of affectionate feeling toward others. The problem is not only perplexing; it is likely to be both deep and of long standing. Its roots go back in most cases to an early home life in which little warm love was shown. Though the adult devoid of affection-ate feelings may say she needs neither manifestations of love from others nor her own showing of it to them, she is nevertheless a psychologically starved person. She may not understand what has happened to her, but she has built walls about her person. She is encapsuled. She is dying a death. She is in a state of psychological famine, dying of lovelessness. What can be done for this person who does not know how to love humanly and in a feminine manner? She may need professional therapy. She surely" needs a friend, a close friend. She needs understanding and ac-ceptance. She needs to learn that she is worthwhile, lovable. When she is accepted, understood, loved suffi-ciently, she will slowly become capable of returning love, of warming up to others. But the process is slow. All concerned with her problem need patience, herself included. + + + VOLUME 28, 1969 209 ÷ ÷ Thomas Duba~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 210 We may pause here to insist that the deeply felt need (even in a sister) to love and to be loved is no imperfec-tion. On the contrary, the deeper the need, the nobler the woman. It is the person who feels no need that is ill, for she is affectionately numb. On the physical level loss of appetite indicates illness, while hunger points to health and the consumption of vital energy. So also a hunger for love, real love, points toward psychological well-being, for deeply hidden in the recesses of the hu-man person is .the ontological clamor that goodness and beauty be recognized by another's love. Our final question: how does a religious who can and does love warmly develop and deepen her capacity for virginal affection? She must be herself, of course. She must grow normally as a woman with all the inner richness this implies. Genuine love is rooted. It cannot grow from the surface, from an inner vacuum. From the point of view of how this love is to be manifested the sister learns how a Christian virgin loves warmly by ob-serving those among her companions who do know how. Yet affection is not as easily taught as table manners. There is a universality about its signs, but there is also the uniquencess of the individual, and what is more unique than personal love? Still, a sister should be able to learn from the more finely developed among her companions how the consecrated woman shows her love for men. She learns, too, from her inborn reactions toward the opposite sex. Probably one reason why God made the sexes mutually attractive is that men and women learn from mutual relations how to show concern, warmth, cordiality toward members of their own sex. A normal, woman finds that affability toward men comes more naturally and easily than toward women. (And this is surely true also in the case of the man toward women.) Even though she does not show marks of love toward other women in exactly the same ways as toward men, she should learn much from the latter expe.riences, stemming as they do from her inborn feminine inclina-tion. Heterosexual love (which is not, of course, co-ter-ruinous with genital-sexual love), we may then say, is a partial model of human love in general. It is therefore a model for the virgin also, for she remains a sexual being with all the qualities and beauties this implies. The sister further develops her affectionate manner by a careful and prayerful contemplation of the gospel. After she has diligently studied her Christ embracing children for no other reason but to show warmth in His love, "looking with love" (a mysterious phrase) on a rich youth, correcting Martha in so gentle and tender a man-ner, weeping at Lazarus' tomb, she turns for further guidance to John, Peter, and especially to Paul. The letters of these virile (and before their conversion, crude) men are replete with examples of how to show affection in an adult manner. As an evangelical woman the sister should be filled with their spirit and practice. The final source from which the religious learns to love warmly: contemplation, deep contemplation, es-pecially infused contemplation. It is no accident that St. Paul reminds his Thessalonians that they "have learned from God to love one another" (1 Th 4:9). There is no better teacher of warmth and tenderness than He who could utter the divine verse recorded by Luke: "While he [a sinner] was still a long way off, his hther saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly" (Jerusalem Bible). One cannot get more affectionate than this. In the profound center of her own being where Love is more present to her womanly heart than she herself is the sister can find out how to be a loving woman. Though her indwelling Beloved teaches without words, He pours out from her deepest center the very love by Which she loves Him and others. Through the tenderness of His inner infusions she tastes and sees how good He is. She learns from experience that those who seek the Lord want for no good thing. Her good is to take refuge in the Lord she bears in her bosom and from Him she discovers what tenderness is like. So true is it that the contemplative learns from her inabiding Beloved how to be a lover herself, that we would suspect as inauthentic any alleged contemplation that is not accompanied by a warm love for others, or, at the very least, by a sincere, persevering effort in that direction. Contemplation cannot be walled in, aseptic, sterile. By its own inner dynamism, a vertical and horizontal en. ergy, it must burst out into love for men. Together with the instruction of Sacred Scripture and the love flowing out of the sacraments contemplation is the source of deep human love. All of which is to say that the sister must be a Scriptural woman, an ecclesia1 woman, a contemplative woman, if she is going to be a profoundly loving woman. 4. 4. VOLUME 28, 1969 PLACID STROIK, O.F.M. Sanctification and Conquest in the World With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land that we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own (JFK's Inaugural Address, January 1961). Once active faith in God's presence in the world takes hold of a man it begins to give direction to his actions. Not only does God's work really become his own, but also his work becomes the work of God. It is also a fact of experience that as things are it is impossible [or God to Work in this world without us. Very often we speak of God's great gifts to us "and all His marvelous works for us. At the same time we fail to realize the vast interplay and amount of work God has put into our hands to bring these gifts and works to their full development. Just as it is theologically incor-rect and misleading to expect salvation and sanctifica-tion through purely human effort, so also it is misleading to expect salvation even as a gift to come to us without. our effort of respgnse and acceptanc.e of this gift. It is much worse and also very unchristian to think that our faith with its heavy stress on another world and on be-coming holy has somehow absolved us from effort in building this world. ÷ Reconciling Upward and Forward ElYorts Pladd Stroik, O.F.M., is a mem-ber o[ the Francis. can Friars; Pulaski, Wisconsin 54162., ' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 212 Historically it has always been a problem for followers of Christ to somehow bring together the vertical upward effort of sanctification and the horizontal forward effort of human progress and the conquest of the world. Over and over again the questions have been asked: Are they in opposition to each other? Is one just an acciden-tal backdrop to the other? Is there any inner connection between the two? In our present day these questions are extremely fundamental and are at the basis for much of the rethinking and turmoil going on in our religious doctrines and practices. Theologians as well as scientists are fast becoming aware of man's ability in the conquest of nature, the wor!d, and human life itself. This is beginning to put traditional religious ideas out of business. At one time, God, faith, the supernatural, and grace explained a lot of what happens around us. But now, man seems to get more answers and assurance out of things like space exploration, industrial and technical development, and human relations skills. As men put more and more ef-fort into understanding and controlling the universe we touch, see, and hear everyday, there is the conclusion developing that religious ideals and ideas no longer have a place in human life. The simple reasser.tion that God is alive and that He is important is not as convincing nor attractive as a heart transplant or a flight to the moon. That simply will not do. What is needed is a fresh outlook toward the way in which the process of becoming holy is somehow harmoniously interwoven with the human effort exerted in the direction of un-derstanding, building up, and controlling this universe. Such a fresh outlook will demand that we first of all get rid of all our false notions: about God and the world being in opposition to each other; about the supernatural being the best and the natural something that is second best or a mere accidental prelude to the supernatural; about the "afterlife" .being the sole im-portant thing and "nowlife" being a burdensome punish-ment. For many of us this also means trying to under-stand the correct way in which this present earthly life is a preparation for an open direct life with God. It means realizing that the universe is not some accidental stage play wherein what we do or what we build is meaningless unless we did it with a good intention and for the glory of God. What is required is the under-standing that the final coming of. Christ, just as His first coming, is conditioned by the development of man-kind. Because the full glory of Christ is intimately hound up with mankind it is also dependent upon the development of mankind. While the establishment of the new heavens and new earth spoken of in the Apoca-lypse is something Christ alone can bring about, it does not mean that they will appear out of the clear blue sky. Rather the unification that is evidently taking place among mankind seems to warrant the idea that until this unification is complete the entrance of the new heaven and new earth will not take place. The unification of mankind is not some kind of arbi-trary arrangement of individuals. It is in a very deep sense'th+ union brought about by the power and force of ÷ ÷ Conquest in World VOLUME 28, 1969 PlacidSOtt.Foi.lM~., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS love which is everywhere at work in the world. It is the same power which was at work on the first day of creation and is at work in the technological develop-ment of the world. It operates also in the specifically sanctifying deeds of the Incarnation, redemption, and their extensions, the sacraments. It is here that we can see the close connection between sanctification and de-velopment of the world. They are two efforts working in the same direction--the unification ~of mankind. Sanctification without the development of the world is unthinkable, just as development of the world without the painful redemptive efforts displayed and symbolized on the cross is an impossibility. The development of the world could not take place unless the effort to get rid of evil and disorganization were made as.well as the effort to see that truth, goodness, and beauty triumph. Sanctification must involve human endeavor and the op-eration of those powers which make a person to be a person, namely, his will, intelligence, and consciousness. As men use these powers in building up the world they are likewise working at their own unification. In this way the upward movement of becoming holy like God takes place while the forward movement of develop-ment of the universe is also taking place. The work of God and the work of man are constantly interchanging. We are not only becoming like God thru our work, but our work is more and more revealing God to us. Far from being in opposition, God's work of sanctification and man's work of building the universe are seen as two sides of the same coin or two paths to the same goal and destination. The sacred and the secular are closer to each other than we realize. Sanctification and Unification of the World It seems to be an unavoidable conclusion based pri-marily on man's experience .that the universe has been in a dynamic process of development and that the develop-ment is still going on. Looked at in its broadest sense, this development is best described as fulfilling the incompleteness of the creature and bringing organiza-tion and harmony to the disorder, failure, and disunity found at every level of created .being. Another way of looking at this is to think in terms of.°getting rid.of the evil, both moral and physical, that accounts for mechanical failures as well as the failures of the human will to choose the good. On this level we can see sanctification and unification working on the same broad principle. Sanctification is directed to furthering the God-centered harmonious functioning of man's powers of intellect, will, and consciousness, while unifi-cation is directed to an increasing organization of .the physical elements of the universe. In both the moral and physical sphere, mankind has had to wait for the proper time and the proper understanding of how these parts can better function together. Between the two processes of sanctification and,unifi-cation there is an exchange and an interdependence. For one thing, the harmonious functioning of man on the moral and spiritual level is obviously tied to a proper development of the physical well-being of the body. It does not guarantee good order on the moral level, but it is a condition. Health and wealth at a certain level are indispensable. We all know and experience that forced poverty has a way of crippling man's judgement of right and wrong, his sense of justice, and his esteem for his neighbor's welfare. Further, we should consider how the spread of the gospel, the development of moral value systems, and the knowledge of the sacramental means of sanctification are all dependent upon the proper use of mass communi-cations and upon a proper understanding of human re-lations and the difl~erent cultural values of a given group. On the other hand, sanctification and specifically Christian holiness and man's moral value systems as they develop and improve do assert a controlling effect on the direction and expression of physical evolution and technological advancement. For a very common ex-ample we can take the peaceful uses of nuclear energy which the moral values of nations are bringing about. Endeavor and Endurance for the Christian Today Because of the close interplay between the develop-ment of the .world and man's union with God, any religious ethic that separates the two is doomed not only to be unattractive but eventually will be proved to be erroneous. A legal morality of do's and don't's must give way to a dynamic morality of conquest. The pro-gram for a Christian today must be one that envisions union with God in and thru the world. In attaining this union, it is fundamental for Chris-tians to accept and understand that the universe by God's plan has been locked dead center on Christ. The world as we know it is headed toward Christ as its center and fullness. Every development both of material growth and spiritual growth is aimed at building up a new heaven and new earth, centered in Christ. In this conquest, the Christian consciously and all men by their very existence are called to collaborate enthusiastically, knowing that by their fidelity and obedience and also thru the work they have accomplished, they are com-pleting this universe. Each person must sincerely work at development. His + + ÷ Conquest in the World VOLUME 28, 1969 O~.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS own personal development and the conquest of the world are to be done not simply to keep oneself busy and out of trouble but because this effort is vital to the building up of the universe. All effort that promotes and directly increases the general consciousness of mankind is the best effort. The highest moral principles guiding hu-man action are not those which protect and safeguard man's rights and duties, but those Which promote the best development of the person, society, and the world. In other words, those things which are in the direction of growth of the spirit of man are good, and what is best is that what assures the highest development of the spiritual powers of the earth. If our action furthers the unification and development of the world and the peo-ple in it, it is a good action. The question comes up as to how we can determine if our action furthers growth. Basically our general goal is to increase personal responsibility, freedom, and hu-man consciousness. This is not an easy order, and that is "why emphasis must be placed on the three charac-teristics of human endeavor that will allow for the de-velopment of human consciousness and personal re-sponsibility: Purity, charity, and self-denial are three basic strengths which provide for the necessary growth. When speaking of purity it is important to under-stand it in a dynamic sense, not in any passive restrictive sense. Purity is that power which seeks to organize all our personal energies along the lines of personal whole-ness and integrity--getting rid of those elements in us which tend to pull our forces in a thousand disorganized directions. In unifying the powers of man, purity brings about a conquest and achievement which frees the person for an ever greater expression of the power of love. Purity seeks the unification of the person, while charity is directed to the unification of persons among themselves. For many of us love or charity is simply a command to avoid hurting our neighbor or overstep-ping his rights. This is a rather narrow, negative view of charity. It fails to take in the dynamic element of active furthering of the growth of our neighbor and of the whole universe. Love as energy in its widest sense is the power which draws all things together. It has a synthesizing effect. Love when it takes on the form of Christian charity is all the more powerful because it is the effort of unification, but now in Christ and thru Christ. Charity inspired by Christ is charity which moves and advances mankind and the whole universe toward Him. In the final analysis, love is not only positive and dynamic, but universal and totally directed to building up the world into a unity in Christ. For the Christian who is sincerely interested in the true progress and development of the world, the mes-sage of the cross in terms of self-denial, detachment, and renunciation is as important as seeing a computer operate an assembly line and a turbine generator light a city. He knows and experiences the detachment that must go into an enthusiastic collaboration with the whole human effort in furthering the growth of the world toward the fullness of Christ. In accomplishing any ideal, the difficult labor involved is necessarily a victory over selfishness and egotistical laziness. This detachment thru .action on the material of life is a continuation of and is patterned on the method ex-pressed in the Incarnation--immersion and insertion into the world so as to transform and lead the world to God. But experience shows us that the most radical trans-formation of people and things takes place not thru a simple laborious effort to create and produce but thru the endurance of evils and failures, stresses and painful strains including that of death. A world that is still in the process of development must of necessity have fail-ures and faults for the simple reason that it is not com-plete. Thru the plan of God and man's cooperation, the failures can be brought to serve a higher purpose. Even the impurity in a stone can be made to add beauty and tone to the final product. A moral defect thru the trans-formation of repentance can be the occasion of a greater good. All of the suffering involved in the endurance of evil and that of death has for its final aim the union of man with God in and thru Christ. Such union cannot take place without a going out of oneself. Union revolves around love and love means giving oneself to the one loved. Death in our world is the process by which the final and complete union with God is accomplished. It is the decentering of our self and centering on God. This involves a change of state, but in all development at a certain point a complete rearrangement of elements is necessary for the further functioning on a higher level. The significance of Christ's necessary death and His new form of life after it is a fact of history which is able to give validity and assurance to all men that death is not the end of all but the door to a change of life. Contemporary Man and the Future It is easy enough for modem man to exert the effort to build a new world if the dangers and ris~ are not too great. The vast development of the world which we are now experiencing is not an absolute guarantee that man's progress will always be forward and upward. The 4- ÷ .Conquest in the VOLUME 28, 1969 " 217 temptation to revolt in the face of great odds and diffi-culties is as possible as it ever was. As man becomes more complex and his consciousness more highly developed, the possibilities for further progress are just as good as the possibilities for destruction. It all depends how man chooses to use his powers--in the direction of greater growth in true Christian life or in selfish temporary satisfaction. The urgency to get out of oneself and build a better world for all men is not a call to be answered later. The forces involved in a developing universe are forces that are centered in Christ and ultimately in God the Father. Christ's invitation to be with Him and gather or else to be against Him and scatter is both a promise and a threat that either we build with Him or be cast aside into unending disorganization and disunity. Heaven and hell are as real as they are totally opposite each other. Heaven is full of life in perfect harmony. Hell is empty life in total discord. Man at every point in history must simply choose to build the earth and its spiritual forces in and with Christ or to build a "nothing" out-side Him. + 4. + P/~id O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CARLO A. WEBER, S.J. The Field oJ Combat: Neurotic or Existential Guilt There is no domain in which the acute problem of communication between theology and psychology is more evident than in the experience of guilt. Stormy en-counters on the nature and origins of the experience, its place in human development, its effects on human lives wage on without much hope of resolution, largely because the language, the symbols, and the context of the discussion are not the same for all the contestants. The field of combat is common to all; but the rules of the game are not ~he same. A split-level mode of com-munication has prevailed. Jung remarked of this en-counter that " . both appear to use the same language, but the language calls up in their minds two totally different fields of association. Both [theologians and psychologists] can apparently use the same concept, and then are bound to acknowledge to their amazement that they are speaking of two different things." And to make the issue even more complex, one can add the profes-sional legalist to the lists. For from yet another stance, the lawyer is also concerned with problems of guilt. The experience of guilt, then, is the common playing field for theologians, psychologists, lawyers. But for each, it means whatever the methodological conditioning of his own discipline obliges it to mean. For the moral theologian, it has generally suggested reprehensibility, culpability, blame-worthiness, sin. For the lawyer, it means, specifically, responsibility before the law, civil or ecclesiastical, or criminality as determined by legal can-ons. And for the psychologist, in sharp contrast, it im-plies rather a first-level symptom, the crippling expres-sion of a depreciating self-concept, perhaps the residue of a super-ego-oriented childhood training. + 4- ,I, Carlo A. Weber, S,J., is Director o[ Psychological Serv-ices; Loyola Univer-sity of Los Angeles; Los Angeles, Cali-fornia 90045. VOLUME 28, 1969 219 Carlo Weber, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 220 When the discussants in the dialogue use the same word to denote such utterly different things, communica-tion soon dissolves into futile bickering over semantics. Guilt is sin; guilt is crime; guilt is symptom. The vocal sounds one hears in the dialogue alert the same signals; but the phenomena signalized are in no way the same. In such a conversation of nonmeanings, a fruitless and frus-trating collision course is inevitable. It is like approach-ing a railroad crossing without the slightest assurance that the waving semaphore symbolizes an approaching train or an unimpeded right-of-way. One would be better off without the semaphore in such a case; and so we might be better off without the word "guilt." The "guilt-language," as the "God-language" in many instances, or the "soul-language," oi other similar efforts at non-communication might best be scrapped, that we might attempt an uncluttered look at the phenomenological realities and then allow a new language to emerge to fit the reality. Orwell's "New-speak," or Cattell's crypto-scientific system of operational definitions in psycho-metrics may, however wild they first seem, be something of the answer. We might well avoid the confusion that always arises from previous connotations to a word by introducing entirely different sound associations. The present state of affairs, then, is largely one in which the language of guilt tends to divide authorities rather than to aid communication between them. When the psychologist hears his legal associate describe a man's guilt in court and watches him step nimbly through what appears to be a maze of legal fictions, he finds the process frightfully objective, abstract, impersonal, inhuman. But the lawyer is not really describing the psychologist's "guilt." The theologian is properly horri-fied, on the other hand, when he hears the psychologist's attempts to gloss over the reality of guilt and speak of it as some neurotic myth. This, to him, is a form of "psy-chologizing"-- foggy, anarchic, and sentimental. But the psychologist is not, in fact, describing the theologian's "guilt" either; indeed, if he is loyal to his methodology, he has nothing to say of it. One could, of course, con-tinue with this litany of misunderstanding; the cross-cultural impasses are possibly as evident as the semantic circus of an international diplomatic conference. Though it may be next to impossible to draw meaning from this semantic labyrinth, we are, nonetheless, stuck with it. It is of value to note that within the verbal en-tente, orientations which have traditionally set the con-testants apart do emerge. It may be helpful to try to clarify them. For the psychologist, guilt is strictly a sub-jective phenomenon, a feeling, if you will, that can be-come almost the pervasive element of one's inner experi- ence. The psychologist, as such, is little concerned about the external, objective counterpart of the experience. His world, as a clinician, is the perceptual world, not pre-cisely the accuracy of the percepts. Whether one's feeling of guilt, therefore, is rooted in anti-social actions, or in an interiorized, guilt-ridden self-concept is not pre-cisely the point. It is now the individual's feeling; and the psychologist deals with it as such. He also realizes that the intensity of the experience is not necessarily in proportion to the quality of an external action or event. One individual may experience crushing guilt subsequent to running a red light at a deserted intersection; another may remain blandly guilt-free after bludgeoning a harm-less old lady's skull. Such a feeling of guilt is clearly not the function of some specific external action; but it is rather the correlate and the expression of his own inner awareness of his value, or rather the lack of it. The inner awareness is the point of differentiation for the psycholo-gist. For both the moral theologian and the lawyer, however, there is an objective emphasis in the philosophy of guilt. An objective norm which has been violated is the criterion according to which one assesses guilt. That norm, of course, is not the same for both. For the lawyer, it is the civil or common law. For the moralist, it is the "will of God," expressed either through canon law, or the magisterium of a teaching Church, or the Sacred Books, or the natural law. But in each case, the norm is an external one; and guilt is the function of a violation of that norm. Once that has been established, the legalist can turn his atten-tion to the degree of individual-culpability, for example, knowledge of the existence of the norm, consciousness at the moment of violation, presence or absence of over-whelming emotional or physical duress, and so forth. So long as we can reasonably assume some subject-ob-ject dichotomy, these two arrangements appear to be quite different. The moral theologian and the lawyer, both with their own specific articulation of the norm of behavior, regard guilt as the individual's posture be-fore the law; the psychologist sees it more as the individ-ual's posture before himself. That there is room for an overlapping of these dimensions is as true as the fact that the subject-object dichotomy is not crystal clear; but, with that qualification, the criteria are different, and so also are the semantic worlds built around the two points of view. Unfortunately, the tradition of morality in the West has been heavily legal since the days when the Latin rite was imposed on the Western Church. And with the Latin rite came the Roman tradition which was one of law and legal prescriptions. The language and the emphasis of Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 Carlo Weber, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 222 the Western Church, when addressing itself to questions of mor~ility and guilt, has been on the side of law. Moral textbooks became classic examples of legal casu-istry. Room was always left, to be sure, for the "subjec-tive," as preserved in the distinction between formal and material sin; but the bulk of any discussion inevi-tably turned about a consideration of the objective or material guilt. Scarcely more than a condescending nod was given to the presence of the subjective element as the final determinant of sinfulness, with something of a begrudging acknowledgement that that aspect, after all, was the most important. But no effort at all was ex-pended, until very recent times, in attempting to provide some phenomenological map of the subjective. Perhaps the futility of that prospect obliged the moralists to turn their attention to the legal puzzle that was, after all, more intellectually satisfying and a good deal more comfort-able. One would suggest, mindful of the discussions swirling about Pope Paul's encyclical, Humanae vitae, that it is clear that the legal emphasis is still the pre[ vailing attitude of the official Church. The rupture within the Church is precisely a function of the person versus Law approaches to morality and guilt. When the law becomes the criterion for human be-havior, the stage is set for casuistic thinking :about morality. This implies a mental "set" in which one is concerned chiefly with the degree of deviation from the norm. How far, for example, can I deviate from the statement of the law and still be safe? Or, at what point of deviation do I stray from the area of safety to the do-main in which I must be classified as a sinner, if it be a moral law, or a criminal, if it be a civil law? Legal guilt is the consequence of straying outside the latitude which the law allows. In that area the legalo-moralist conducts his conceptual jousting. Only recently have attempts been made to bring about a wedding of the law and the personal in the various modes of situational ethics. And this, of course, is both the effect of the communion of psychologists and theologians and a stimulating rein-forcement for it. The norm becomes more an ideal which one strives to approach continuously throughout his life rather than a law from which one deviates. Neurotic Guilt The genesis of neurotic guilt, as described by the psychopathologist, follows a commonly described nuclear process that was most brilliantly outlined originally by Karen Horney. There are four discernible stages. The process begins with a faulty personality development in childhood. The child, whose first self-concept, as such, is the result of the interiorization of the value placed upon him by his parents, sees himself as those significant people in his life see him. If the child is rejected, un-wanted, ignored, neglected, he begins at an .early stage in psychological development to see himself as unworthy, unlovable. This is a fairly obvious situation and need not be explored at any length. The rejected child anticipates rejection' from others because that is the extent of his experience; and he can, in gross instances, unconsciously provoke rejection by hostile, abrasive conduct, precisely because of this expected response pattern. Such a child is almost bound to "always hurt the one he loves." At the other extreme of parental reaction, the child can be overprotected in his early years. The result is the absence of any process of growth into independence. The custo-dial love of the parent prevents the possibility of growth, and the child remains weak, helpless, dependent. In terms of the growth of a self-concept, the child will tend to see himself in the same manner and behave as such. No one is unfamiliar with the suffocating, devouring, .de-structive mother-child relationship, described first by Strecker, who coined the phrases "Morn" and "Mom-ism" in his classic, Their Mothers" Sons. The notion has become virtually a household word since, made even more popular with the expression of theories of a bur-geoning matriarchal society. Interestingly enough, the effect on the self-concept of the child of both rejection and overprotection is ap-proximately the same. These are simply two sides of the same coin. In either case, the child is not being valued for himself. The rejected child is not loved at all; the overprotected child is not loved, except as the mirror reflection of the mother, whose narcissistic needs are pro-jected on him. In both instances, the child disappears. This is also true, but not to the same extent, in the situa-tion where the parents' love for the child is conditional. The child is loved providing he follows certain ground rules established by the parents. Ground rules are essen-tial, of course, but they ought not to be the condition for acceptance. If they are, the child sees himself as valuable and lovable only as long as he continues to ful-fill the regulations for being loved. He ,must continue to perform the tasks prescribed; and, in time, the task-oriented process becomes a way of life. Whether the child is rejected, overprotected or conditionally-loved, the effect, in varying degrees, is the same. The child perceives him-self as inadequate, unlovable, helpless, or constantly in need of proving his value. The moral analogue to the psychological feeling of ineptness or inadequacy is the feeling of guilt. The latter is merely a translation 'of the same feeling from psycho-logical language to moral language. To say, in a psycho-÷ ÷ 4- Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS logical context;.that I am weak, flaccid,, incompetent, un-lovable is the same as saying, in a moral context, I am bad, sinful, guilty. The difference here between the neu-rotic guilt and genuine forms of responsible guilt lies in the difference between the phrase "I am bad" and the statement "I do bad things." The former is a description of the basic personality of the self-depreciating neurotic; the latter a description of occasional activity. The most apt expression of the neurotic guilt feeling was given me, quite incidentally, by a woman patient, who was in-credibly scrupulous. For her, every action was a sin. In a therapy session, she remarked, rather in passing: "You know, sin is in my veins." And with this cryptic obser-vation, she sums it all up. "Sin, badness, is as much a part of me as my very blood. It describes my life, my being, my essence, as it were. And since I am, in es-sence, sinful, every action, which, in fact, is an expres-sion of my nature, must be sinful. I shall either discover it there, as the scrupulou
Issue 25.6 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Implementation of Vatican II by Paul VI Religious Community and the Primi-tive Church by Thomas Barrosse, A Reflection on Perfectae Caritatis by Gustave.Martelet, S.J. The Family Fallacy by Hilary Smith, O.G.D. Are Teaching Brothers Still Needed? by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. Devouonal Confession by Dale Olen, O.F.M.Gap. Deepening Vocational Com~nitmen~ by Sister Marian Dolores, S'.:N.J.M. Humility and Pei'~onality by wali' s. S.S. Subli~nation~ by.Sister M. Rosalie, O.P. Religious and Gr~duate!!Studie~ by Michael P. 8heri~n, Blueprint.for Dialogue by Thomas Dubay, S.M. Survey of Roman DoE~uments Views, News, Previews QuesUons and ~nswers Book Reviews Indices for Volume 25, 1966 939' 971 986 1000 1018 1030 1042 1051 1055 1062 1070 1084 1088 ]092 1106 1127 VOLUME 25 N'UM~ER 6 ~Vovember 196~ Notice to Subscribers Because of constantly increasing costs, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS finds it necessary to increase the cost of its individual issues as well as of its sub-scriptions. The new rates, effective in 19(37, will be the following: (1) Individual issues of the REVIEW will cost one dollar; this price will apply not only to all issues beginning with 19(37 but also to all previously published issues. (2) Subscriptions in the United States, Canada, and Mexico will cost $5.00 per year; $9.00 for tw9 years. (~) Subscriptions to other countries will cost $5.50 per year; $10.00 for two years. (4) All the above prices are in terms of U.S.A. dollars; accordingly all payments must be made in U.S.A. funds. These prices wilI affect all individual issues sokl on or after January 1, 1967. The new subscription prices will be applicable to all subscriptions-- new and renewed--beginning with the January, 1967, issue of the REvmw. PAUL VI Implementation of Cer-tain Decrees of Vatican Council II The~ postconciliar administration of the Church clearly requires that there be established for the Church's affairs new norms and dispositions which correspond to the requirements of the Council and which are better adapted to the new goals and areas of the apostolate that the work of the Council has brought to the Church's at-tention as existing in the world of our time--a pro-foundly changed world that needs the full glow of light and longs for the supernatural warmth of charity. Because of these considerations, as soon as the Council was finished, We accordingly established study commis-sions to collect, each in its own area, information and to frame a practical program; the purpose of all this was that definite norms might be set down for the implemen-tation of the conciliar decrees which had already been granted a delay from imm. ediate execution. These com-missions, as We wrote with satisfaction in Our motu pro-prio letter, Munus apostolicum, of June 10, 1966, dili-gently occupied themselves with their assigned task; and at the assigned time they made known their findings to Us. After We had attentively considered their findings, We judged that it was now time for the aforementioned norms to be published. Since, however, the'entire mat-ter is one that pertains to discipline, an area to which ek-perience may be able to contribute further suggestions; and since, moreover, a separate commission is engaged in the revision and emendation of the Code Of Canon Law in which all the laws of the Church will be codified to-gether in a fitting, appropriate, and determined way; We * This is a translation of the motu proprio apostolic letter, Ecclesiae sanctae, issued on August 6, 1966; the translation was made [rom the Latin text as given in Osservatore romano, August 13, 1966, pp. 1-3~ 4. 4. 4, Implementation Vatican I1 VOLUME 25, 1966 have thought that it would be wise and prudent for Us to publish these norms for an experimental period. During this interval of time episcopal conferences may communicate to Us any observations and comments which the execution of these norms may convince them should be made; likewise, they can also propose new ideas to Us. Accordingly, after thinking the matter over carefully, on Our own initiative-and by Our apostolic authority, We decree and promulgate the following norms for the implementation of the decrees of the Council beginning with.the words: Christus Dominus (on the pastoral office of bishops in the Church), Presbyterorum ordinis (on the ministry and life of priests), Per[ectae caritatis (on the adaptation and renewal of religious life), and Ad genres divinitus (on the missionary activity of the Church); and We order them to be observed for an ex-perimental period; that is, until the new Code of Canon Law is promulgated unless in the meantime the Apostolic See should provide otherwise. These norms will begin to be effective on October 11, 1966, the Feast of the Motherhood of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the day on which four years ago the Council was solemnly inaugurated by Our predecessor of venerable memory, John XXIII. All the matters determined by Us in this motu proprio letter We order to be fixed and unalterable, all contrary things, even those worthy of very special mention, not-withstanding. Given at Rome at St. Peter's on August 6, 1966, the Feast of the Transfiguration of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the fourth year of Our pontificate. Paul PP. VI ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS NORMS FOR THE DECREES ON BISHOPS AND ON PRIESTS The episcopal office, which the Second Vatican Coun-cil has clarified in the dogmatic constitution, Lumen gen-tium, and in the decree, Christus Dominus, was divinely established for the building up of the Mystical Body of Christ which is the Church. For this reason these holy pastors must show a perse-vering zeal in the fulfillment of their duty of teaching, sanctifying, and shepherding the People of God. In doing this, they should generously share with the roman pon-tiff the solicitude of all the churches, they should ear-nestly provide for the good administration of the dio-ceses entrusted to them, and finally they should work together for the good of their several churches. In the direction of the dioceses e.ntrusted to them the bishops require helpers and counselors, the first of which are the priests; hence bishops should willingly listen to these latter and even be desirous of consulting ~hem, though in all matters there should always be retained as fixed the bishop's power of acting, freely, of setting up directives and norms, and of enacting laws in accord with his own conscientious concept of his office and with the principles of the government of the Church (see the dog-matic constitution, Lumen gentium~, n. 27). In order, therefore, that the bishops may be able to fulfill their pastoral duty more ea,sily and fittingly and in order that they might translate into practice the prin-ciples solemnly approved by the Council in the decrees, Christus Dominus and Presbyterorum ordinis, the fol-lowing norms are established. Distribution of the Clergy and Assistance to Dioceses (N. 6 of the decree, Christus Dominus, and n. 10 of the decree, Presbyterorum ordinis) 1. If it is deemed opportune, there should be set up at the Apostolic See a special committee the purpose of which will be to provide general ~rinciples for a better distribution of the clergy in the light of the needs of the various churches. ,, 2. It will be the duty of patriarchal synods and of epis-copal conferences, the prescriptionls of the Apostolic See being observed, to enact ordinances and to publish norms for the bishops by which there may be secured a fitting distribution of the clergy coming from their own terri-tory as well as of those coming fr6m other regions. Such a distribution should provide [orl the needs of all the dioceses of a given territory; the welfare of the churches in mission lands and in countries~ with a lack of clergy should also be cared for. Therefore, every episcopal con-ference should establish a commission whose work it will be to investigate the needs of the various dioceses of the territory as well as the possibilities of the dioceses for giving from their own clergy to other dioceses, to put into execution the determinations made and approved by the conferences with regard to the distribution of the clergy, and to convey these determinations to the bishops of the territory. ~ 3. In order that the transfer of clerics from one diocese to another be made easier--the p(actice of incardination and excardination being retame~d though ~n a form adapted to new circumstances--the following prescrip-tions are set down. § 1. Clerics in seminaries shoqld be trained so that they are solicitous not only for ithe diocese for whose service they are ordained but also for the entire Church + + + Implementation o~ Vatican Ii VOLUME 25, 1966 941 Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and so that with the permission of their own bishop they are ready to devote themselves to particular churches whose needs are great. § 2. Except in the case of genuine necessity in the home diocese, ordinaries and hierarchs should not refuse permission to go elsewhere to those clerics whom they know are prepared and whom they judge to be suited when such clerics ask to perform their sacred ministry in regions having a serious lack of clergy; however, they should see to it that the rights and duties of these clerics are defined by a written agreement with the lbcal ordi-nary of the region that has been asked for. : § 3. In the case of clerics 'intending to transfer from their own diocese to a diocese of another' country, the same ordinaries should see to it that they are adequately prepared to exercise the sacred ministry in such places; that is, they should see to it that such clerics .acquire a knowledge of th~ language of that region and that they have an understanding of its institutions, of its social conditions, and of its usages and customs. § 4. Ordinaries can grant their clerics permission to transfer to another diocese for a determined time, which caff also be renewed indefinitely; t.his should be done, however, in such a way that such clerics remain incardi-hated in their own diocese and enjoy, when they return to it, all the rights they would have if they had devoted themselves to the sacred ministry in it. § 5. A cleric, however, who has legitimately transferred from his own diocege to another is ipso iure incardinated into the latter diocese after five years if he has manifested in writing such an intention both to the ordinary of the diocese he is in and to his own ordinary provided that within four months neither of these has expressed in. writing a contrary opinion. 4. Moreover, for the accomplishment of special pas-toral or missionary activities for various regions or social groups which need special help, there can be usefully established by the Apostolic See prelatures which consist of specially trained priests of the secular clergy and which are under the direction of their own prelate and possess their own statutes. It will be the duty of this prelate to: establish, and di-rect a national or international seminary in which stu-dents are appropriately trained. This prelate also has the right of incardinating such students and of promot-ing them to orders under the title of service to the prel-ature. The prelate should provide for the spiritual life of those promoted under the aforementioned title, for their special training which should be completed without de-lay, and for their special ministry in the light of agree- ments made with the local ordinai'ies to whom the priests are sent. Likewise, he should pro~,ide for their decent sus-tenance which should be met by the agreements that have been made or by the goods 0[ the prelature itself or by other suitable means. Similarly, he should provide for those who because of poor health or for other reasons must give up the work entrusted to them. Provided agreements have been made with the prel-ature, nothing prevents laymen, whether unmarried or married, from dedicating themselves and their profes-sional experience to the service of the prelature's works and undertakings. Such prelatures are not to be established except after consultation with the episcopal conferences of the terri-tory in which the prelature will carry out its work. In doing its work, the prelature should take every care to observe the rights of the local ordinaries and to have close and continual relationships with the episcopal con ferences. 5. Finally, with regard to the use of ecclesiastical goods it is also within the co~npetency of patriarchal synods and episcopal conferences to enact ordinances by which, attention being paid first of all to the needs of the dio- 'ceses of the territory, there are imposed on the dioceses certain levies to be paid for the sake of apostolic or char-itable works or for the sake of churches which possess 'small resources or which for special reasons are in need. Power ol Bishops o[ Dioceses (N. 8 of the decree, Christus dominus) 6. The norms for the execution of number 8 have been established in the motu proprio apostolic letter, De episcoporum muneribus, dated June 15, 1966. Fostering Pastoral and Scientific Study (N. 16 of the de-cree, Christus Dominus, and n. 19 of the decree, Presby-terorum ordinis) 7. The bishops, either individually orin cooperation, should see to it that during the year after, ordination all priests, even those engaged in the ministry, complete a series of pastoral lectures and that they also attend at stated times other lectures which are to provide them with the occasion of acquiring fuller knowledge of pas-toral matters and of theological, moral, and liturgical science, of strengthening their spiritual life, and of com-municating in a mutual and fraternal way their apos-tolic experiences. The bishops or the episcopal conferences, according to the circumstances of each territory, should see to it that one or more priests of proved knowledge and virtue Implementation Vatican H VOLUME 25, 1966 943 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~944 be chosen as., directors of studies for the purpose of pro- . rooting and: organizing the pastoral: lectures as well as the other helps judged to be n.ecessary for the ~cientific and pastoral fqrma.tion of the~priests of a given territo~; such helps incl.ude st.udy centers, traveling libraries, cate-chetical, homiletic,: or liturgical congresses, and ~the like. Remuneration and Sbcial Wellare of Priests (N. 16 of the de~ree, Christus Dominus, and nos. 20-1 of the de-cree, Presb~?terorum ~dinis) 8. Patriarchal synods and episcopal conferences should see to it that norms be set up, whether for each diocese or for several dioceses in common or for the entire te~i-tory, by which appropriate provisions are made for the due sustenance of clerics who are or have been engaged in the service of the People of God. The remuneration to be made to clerics should be essentially the same for all in the same circumstances, due regard being had [or the nature of a given office and for circumstances time and .place; the remu.neration should be sufficient .to enable clerics to lead a decent life and also to be of help to the poor. ¯ ,The reform of the system of benefices is entrusted to the commission.for the revision of the Code of Canon Law. In the meantime bishops, after conferring with their council of priests, should take care to provide for a just distribution of goods including also the revenues coming from benefices. The same episcopal conferences should~see to it that at least in those regions where the sustenance of the clergy depends completely or in large part on the offer-ings of th'e faithful each diocese has a special fund in which off, rings for thi~ purpose are collected. The ad-ministrator of this fund should be the bishop of th~ dio-cese ,himself who can be ass!sted, however, by delegated priests and, when it is advantageous, by laymen experi-enced in financial'mhtters.' Finally, the same episcopal conferences should see~ to it that in each country, ecclesiastical and civil laws always being observed, there should be either interdioc-esan institutions or institutions coestablished [or vari-ous dioceses" or'a consociation for an entire country by which sufficient provision' may be. made' under the vigi-lance of °the hierarchy for an adequate health insurance and benefit program and for the sustenance of-clerics who are sick, injured, or aged; It will be left to the revision 0f the Code of Canon Law to set down conditions for the establishment in each diocese or region of another ,common fund by which bishops can meet other obligations to persons serv-ing ~the Chulch and provide [or other needs of the dio- cese and by which richer dioceses can also help poorer dioceses. Care o1 Special Groups (N. 1"8 of the decree, Christus, Dominus) 9. 'In consideration ~ of today's great numbers of emi-grants and' travelers, the episcopal conferences' are asked to entrust to a specially delegated, priest or to a special commission everything pertaining t.o the study and direc-tion of the spiritual care of th~s~ groups. Nomination of,Bishops (N. 20 of the decree; Christus Dominus) . ¯ 10. Wi~h full retention of the roman pontiff's right of freely nominating and constituting bishops and without prejudice to the discipline of the Eastern Churches, the episcopal conferences in accordance wi~h the norms given or to be given by the Apostolic See should each year consult in secret and with prudence about the pro-motion of ecclesiastical persons to the office of. bishop in their territory; and they should propose the names of candidates to the Apostolic 'See. Resigr~.ation of Bishops (N. 21 of the decree, Christus Dominus) 11. For the implementation of the prescription of number 21 of the decree, Christus Dominus, all bish-ops of dioceses as well as other persons comparable to them in law are 'earnestly requested that before the com-pletion of their seventy-fifth year~ and of their own accord they tender their ~resignation of their office, to the.c6m-petent authority which will provide for the matter after considering all the circumstances of each case. A bishop whose resignation from office has' been ac-cepted can maintain, if he desires, his residence in the diocese. Moreover, the diocese itself should provide an appropriate and worthy sustenafice for a resigned bishop. It is the duty of the conferences of bishops to determine in a general way 'the conditions according to which the dio(ese should fulfill this duty. Boundaries o[ Dioceses (Nos. 22--4 of the decree, Christus Domin~us) 12.- § 1. In order that the boundaries of dioceses can be duly revised, the episcopal conferences, each for its own territory, should examine the present territorial di-visions of. the churches, setting up, if necessary, a special commission for this. For this examination it is necessary that the status of the dioceses with regard to territory, persons, and things be duly investigated, Individual bishops who are directly affected as well as the bishops ÷ ÷ ÷ Implementation vatican 1I VOLUME 25, 1966 945 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 946 of the entire ecclesiastical province or region within whose limits the revision of dioceses takes place should be consulted; as far as possible there should be used the help of genuinely expert persons whether ecclesi-astical or lay; the intrinsic reasons suggesting the chang-ing of boundaries should be considered with calmness; there should be considered for possible introduction all the changes treated in numbers 22-3 of the decree,~ Christus Dominus; in the divisi6n or dismembering of dioceses care should be taken to achieve an equitable and suitable distribution of priests and of seminarians, regard being had for the needs of the ministry of salva-tion to be exercised in each diocese and for the special circumstances and wishes of the priests and seminarians. § 2 With regard to the Eastern Churches it is desira-ble that in determining the boundaries for eparchies account should also be taken of the greater closeness of those places in which the faithful of the same rite live. Faculties of Auxiliary Bishops (Nos. 25--6 of the de-cree, Christus Dominus) 13.-§ 1. Auxiliary bishops must be established for a given diocese whenever this is demanded by the genuine needs of the apostolat~ exercised there. In the matter of the power to be given to an auxiliary bishop the chief considerations to be kept in mind are the following: the welfare of the Lord's flock that is to b.e shepherded, the status of membership in the episcopal college with which the auxiliary is honored, and his effective cooperation with the bishop of the diocese. § 2. The bishop of the diocese should make his auxil-iary either a vicar general or syncellus or an episcopal vicar, dependent, however, in every case exclusively on the authority of the bishop of the diocese. § 3. In order that the common welfare of the diocese be sufficiently provided for and that the dignity of the auxiliary bishop be safeguarded, the Council desired to make known its wish that when a see is vacant those who possess the right of doing so should entrust the di-rection of the diocese to the auxiliary or, when there are more than one, to one of th~ auxiliaries. Neverthe-less, ~ unless in a given case some other arrangement be made by competent authority, an auxiliary bishop as vicar general or as episcopal vicar does not lose the powers and faculties he possesses by law when the see is occupied. When, therefore, an auxiliar)~ is not elected to the office of vicar capitular, he retains the power con-ferred on him by law until a new bishop takes possession of the see; he should exercise this power in full concord with the vicar capitular who is the head of the admin-istration of the diocese. Episcopal Vicars (N. 27 of the decree, Christus Dominus) 14. - § 1. The new office of episcopal vicar was legally instituted by the Council in order that the bishop through the increase of these new co-workers might be able to carry out his pastoral direction as well as possible. Therefore it is left to the free decision of the bishop of a diocese to constitute one or more episcopal vicars accord-ing to the special needs of the place; moreover, his fac-ulty remains intact of naming one or more vicars general according to the norm of canon 366 of the Code of Canon Law. § 2. Episcopal vicars who according to the bishop's nomination are such in a given part of the diocese or in,~a certain type of activities or with regard to the faith-ful of a given rite or to groups of persons possess the ordinary vicarious power which common law gives to the vicar general. Therefore, within the limits of their com-petency they have the habitual faculties granted by the Apostolic See to the bishop as well as the execution of rescripts unless something else has been expressly pro-vided for or was purposely reserved to the person of the bishop. Nevertheless, the bishop of a diocese is free to reserve matters that he chooses to himself or to the vicar general; likewise, he is free to confer on the episcopal vicar the special mandate prescribed by common law for certain matters. § 3. As a co-worker of the episcopal office the episcopal vicar should refer everything done or to be done to the bishop of the diocese; moreover, he should never act in opposition to the latter's mind and will. Furthermore, he should not neglect to institute frequent conferences with the other co-workers of the bishop--~specially with the vicar general in ways to be determined by the bishop of the diocese; the purpose of such conferences is to strengthen unity of discipline among the clergy and the people and to obtain greater results in the diocese. § 4. A request denied by a vicar general or by an epis-copal vicar cannot be validly granted by another vicar of the same bishop even though he has considered the reasons for the denial of the vicar who made it. Moreover, a request denied by a vicar general or syn-cellus or by an episcopal vicar and afterward obtained from the bishop is invalid if no mention was made of the previous denial; a request, however, denied by the bishop cannot be validly obtained from a vicar general or an episcopal vicar without the consent of the bishop even if the previous denial has been mentioned. § 5. Episcopal vicars who are not auxiliary bishops are nominated for a set time to be determined in the very act of establishing them; nevertheless, they can be re- + + + Implementation Vatican I1 VOLUME 25, 1966 947 + ÷ ÷ Paul Vl REVIE~V FOR RELIGIOUS moved at the will of the bishop. When the see is vacant, they lose their office unless they are auxiliary bishops; it is, however, advisable for the vicar capitular to use them as his delegates so that the good of the diocese will not be harmed. The Council of Priests and the Pastoral Council (N. 27 of the decree, Christus Dominus, and n. 7 of the decree, Presbyterorum ordinis) 15. The following points refer to the council of priests: § 1. In each diocese according to ways and forms to be determined by the bishop there should be a council of priests; that is, a group or senate of priests representing the priests as a whole; this senate is to be such that by its advice it can effectively assist the bishop in the admin-istration of the diocese. In this council the bishop should listen to his priests, consult them, and confer with them about matters pertaining to the needs of pastoral work and to the good of the diocese. § 2. Insofar as they have a part in the care of souls and in the works of the apostolate religious will also be able to be admitted among the members of the council of priests. § 3. The council of priests has only a consultive voice. 24. When the see is vacant, the council .of priests ceases unless in special circumstances authenticated by the Holy See the vicar capitular or the apostolic admin-istrator confirms it. However, the new bishop will establish his own new council of priests. 16. The following points refer to the pastoral council so highly recommended by the decree, Christus Dominus: § 1. The work of the pastoral council is to investigate and appraise all pastoral works and to make practical conclusions concerning such works. All this is to be done in such a way that conformity with the gospel be pro-moted with regard to the life and action of the People of God. § 2. The pastoral council, which has only a consultive voice, can be constituted in various ways. Ordinarily, even though by its nature it is a permanent institution, its membership and activity can be for a definite time, performing its work on given occasions. The bishop can convoke it whenever it will seem opportune to him. § 3. In the pastoral council clerics, religious, and lay persons, specially chosen by the bishop, have a part. § 4. In order that the purpose of this council be actu-ally achieved in practice, it is desirable that its work in common be preceded by previous stndy with the help, if the matter warrants it, of institutes or offices which are at work in the area of the council's purpose. § 5. When hierarchies of diverse rites are present in the same territory, it is strongly recommended that as far as possible the pastoral council be interritual; that is, that it consist of clerics, religious, and lay persons of the diverse rites. § 6. Other dispositions are left to the free determina-tion of the bishop of the diocese, account being taken of the matters mentioned in number 17. 17.-§ 1. In matters involving the council of priests, the pastoral council, and their relations to each other or to the committees already existing by reason of present law, it is advisable that the bishops, especially when they are met in their conferences, take common counsel and publish similar norms in all the dioceses of the territory. The bishops should also take care that all diocesan councils be coordinated as closely as possible by a clear-cut determination of competency, by mutual sharing of members, by common or successive sessions, and by other such means. §2. In the meantime until they are revised, the bishop's councils that are in existence by reason of ex-isting law, that is, his cathedral chapter, his group of consultors, and others of the same type if there be such, retain their own work and their own competency. Suppression of Rights and Privileges in the Conferral of O~ces and Benefices (N. 28 of the decree, Christus Dominus) 18.-§ 1. The good of souls demands that the bishop possess due liberty to confer offices and benefices, even those without the care of souls, in a suitable and equi-table manner on the clerics who are best fitted for them. The Apostolic See will no longer reserve to itself the conferral of offices or benefices, whether with or without the care of souls, unless they be consistorial; in the law of the formulation of every benefice those clauses will be eliminated in the future which restrict the freedom of the bishop with regard to the conferral of the benefice; non-onerous privileges, hitherto granted to physical or moral persons and involving the right of election, nomi-nation, or presentation for any non-consistorial office or benefice, are abrogated; also abrogated are customs and rights of nominating, electing, and presenting priests for a parochial office or benefice; the law of competitive examinations is suppressed for offices and benefices, in-cluding those without the care of souls. With regard to what are called popular elections, it is the duty of the episcopal conferences where such elec-tions exist to propose to the Apostolic See what seems ÷ ÷ + Implementation of Vatican I1 VOLUME 25, 1966 9,i9 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 950 most opportune with a view of abrogating them as far as possible. § 2. If, however, rights and privileges in this matter were established by reason of a convention between the Apostolic See and a nation or by reason of a contract made with physical or moral persons, the matter of the cessation of such rights and privileges must be taken up with the interested parties. Deans (N. 30 of the decree, Christus Dominus) 19.-§ 1. Among the closer co-workers of the bishop of a diocese are to be included those priests who exercise a pastoral function of a supraparochial nature; among such are vicars forane who are also called archpriests or deans and among Eastern Christians protopriests. For the exercise of this position there should be appointed priests who are outstanding for their knowledge and their apostolic activity and who, when they are given due faculties by the bishop, can suitably promote and direct common pastoral action in the territory entrusted to them. Accordingly, this office is not affixed to a deter-mined parish. 2. Vicars forane, archpriests, or deans are appointed for a set time to be determined by special law; however, they can be removed at the will of the bishop. In the case of the nomination, transfer, or removal of parish priests in the territory of which the deans are in charge, it is advisable that the bishop of the diocese consult them. Removal, Transfer, and Resignation of Pastors (N. 31 of the decree, Christus Dominus) 20.-§ 1. Without ~rejudice to the present law of religious, the bishop can legitimately remove any pastor from a parish whenever in the opinion of the bishop his ministry, even without any serious fault of his own, is made harmful or at least ineffective because of any of the causes listed in law or for similar reasons; until the revision of the Code the mode of proceeding in this matter is to be that laid down for irremovable pastors (cc. 2157-=61 of the Code of Canon Law), the law of the Eastern churches retaining its force. § 2. If the good of souls or the'need or welfare of the Church. demands it, the bishop can transfer a pastor from his parish in which he is successful to another parish or to any other ecclesiastical office. If, however, the pastor refuses, the bishop, in order that the transfer be validly enacted, should follow in every detail the way of acting noted above. § 3. In order .that the prescriptions of number 31 of the decree, Christus Dominus, can be put into execu- tion, it is requested of all pastors that of their own accord before the completion of their seventy-fifth year they submit their resignation to their own bishop who, hav-ing considered all the circumstances, will decide whether to accept or defer the resignation. The bishop should provide those who resign with suitable sustenance and habitation. Establishment, Suppression, and Change of Parishes (N. 32 of the decree, Christus Dominus) 21.-§ 1. Every effort should be made that there be suitable partitioning or division of parishes in which because of the excessive number of the faithful or the excessive extent of the territory or because of any reason whatsoever apostolic activity can be exercised only with difficulty or in a less than suitable way. Likewise, parishes that are too small should be united into one as far as the matter demands and circumstances allow. § 2. Parishes should no longer be united by full right to chapters of canons. If any are so united, after consul-tation with the chapter and the council of priests they should be separated and a pastor established-~selected either from the capitulars or not--who should possess all the faculties which belong to pastors .according to the prescriptions of law. § 3. By his own authority and after consultation with the council of priests the bishop of a diocese can es-tablish, suppress, and change parishes; however, he must do this in such a way that if there are conventions be-tween the Apostolic See and the civil government or if there are rights involved belonging to physical or moral persons, the matter be suitably adjuste~d with the pre~ ceding subjects by the competent authority. Religious (Nos. 33--5 of the decree, Christus Dominus) 22. The norms set forth here apply to all religious, men and women, of whatever rite, but without prejudice to the rights of the Eastern patriarchs. 23-§ 1. All religious, including .exempt ones, working in places where a rite different from their own is the only one or is so much greater with respect to the num-be of its faithful that in common estimation it is judged. to be the only one, are dependent on the local ordinary or hierarch in those things which involve the external works of the ministry; and they are subject to him ac-cording to the norms of law. § 2. Where, however, there are many local ordinaries or hierarchs, the same religious in discharging their func-tions among the faithful of different rites are bound by the norms which are given by the common consent of these ordinaries and hierarchs. VOLUME 25, 1966 951 Paul, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS , 24. Although. the exemption of religious within its own legitima.te confines also applies in mission localities, still, because of the special circumstances of the sacred ministry exercised in those places and according to the' mind of the decree, .dd gentes divinitus," the special stat-utes are to be observed that have been giv.en or approved by the Apostolic See with regard to the relationships be-tween the local ordinary and the religious superior, es-pecially in the case'of; a mission entrusted to a given institute. 25.-§ 1. All religious, including exempt ones, .are bound by the laws, decrees, and ordinances enacted by the local ordinary with regard, to the various works con-cerned with the exercise of the sacred apostolate as well as with pastoral, and social action pr~scribed or recom-mended by the local ordinary. § 2. They are likewise bound ,by the laws, decrees, and ordinances ~nacted by the local ordinary or by the conference of bishops regarding among other things~ the following matters: a) the public"use of all means of social communica-tion according to the norm of numbers 20 and 21 of the decree, Inter miril~ca; ~ . , b) attendance at public spectacles; c) membership or cooperati.on with societies or asso-ciations which the 'local. ordinary or the episcopal con-ference has declared forbidden; d) dccle~iasti~al garb, thqugh there remain in force canofi 596 6f the ~Code of Canon Law and canon 139 of the Code of Canofi Law f6r. the East'.ern Church; the matter of ecdlesiastic.al g~.,rb 'is to include the following regulation: The l'6dal, ordinary or the episcopal confer-ence, in order ~6'~ ~oid'scarid~ilizin'g the faithful, can prohibit, the clergy, both secular and religious, including the exempt,,on~s., from publi,cly wearing lay garb. ¯ 26. Furthermore, the sarape ~r$1igio~us are bound by the laws and decrees' efia~teff by the local ordinary with re-gard to the public exercise 6f -~orship. They "are bound to this in their 6wn churches" ~nd in their public as well as their semipublic oratories if the faithful ordinarily attend them, without prejud.ic~, however,, to the rite iegitimately used f~r theirs.,, own c.ommunity only and account bei.ng taken of ~the o'rdo for the choral Divine Office and for the. sacred functions pertaining to the spe-cial purpose ~f"the institute. 27.-§.1. The epis.copal .conference of each nat.ion, having consulted the religious superiors involved in the matter, can determine norms with regard to the soliciting Of donations;, the~ norms must be observed by all reli-gious, not excluding those who by reason of their insti-. tute are called and are mendicants, without prejudice, however, to their right to beg. § 2. Likewise, religious should not begin the collec-tion of funds by means of a public ,subscription without the consent of the ordinaries of the places in which the funds are collected. ~ 28. The proper or special ~vorks of ~ach institute are those which with the approval of the Apostolic See have been undertaken from its foundation or on account of venerable traditions and which accordingly have been defined and regulated by the constitutions and other proper laws of the institu.t_e. These works, should be zealously fostered by' re!igious, special account being made of the spiritual necessities of the dioceses and fra-ternal concord being maintained with the diocesan clergy and with other institutes engaged in similar works. 29.-§ 1. The.proper or special works exercised in the institute's houses, even those that are rented, are de-pendent on the superiors of the institute who should direct and regulate them according to the constitu-tions. Nevertheless, works of this kind are also subject to the jurisdiction of the local ordinary according to the norm of law. § 2. However, works, ' even though proper and special to the institute, which are entrusted to it by the local ordinary are subject to the ordinary's authority and direction, there being retained, however, the right of religious superiors to watch over the life of their mem-bers as well as to watch over, together with the local ordinary, the execution of the functions entrusted to them. 30.- § 1. ~)ther matters of law being observed, a writ-ten agreement should be made between the local ordi-nary and the competent superior in the case of,the com-mitting of a work of" the apostolate to an institute by the local ordinary. This agreement among other things should clearly define details concerning the work to be done, the members to be .devoted to it, and its financial aspects. § 2. For these works genuinely fitted religious should be selected by their proper ,religious superior after mu-tual consultation with the local ordinary; and if it is a question of an ecclesiastical office to be conferred on a member, the religious should be nbminated by the local ordinary himself, with the presentatibn or at least the assent' of his proper superior and for a period of time determined by mutual consent. 31. Even when'a task is to' be entrusted to a given religious by the "local ordinary or by the episcopal con-ference, this should he"done with the consent of his superior and through a written agreement. ÷ ÷ ÷ Implementation oJ Vatican H VOLUME 25, 1966 953 Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 954 32. For a serious reaSon any religious can be removed from the work entrusted to him both at the wish of the commissioning authdrity after the religious superior has been advised arid at the wish of the superior after the one commissioning ~has been advised. In this matter both have parity in law and the consent of the other is not required; neither one is bound to disclose, and much less to prove, t6 the other the reason for his decision, without prejudice, however, to non-suspensive appeal to the Apostolic See. 33.-§ 1. The local ordinary by his own authority and with the consent of the competent religious superior can entrust a parish to a religious institt~te even by erecting it in a religious church of the institute. This commis-sioning of a parish can be done permanently or' for a def-inite period of time; in either case it should be done by m~ans of a written agreement between the ordinary and the comp'etent superior of the institute; in this agreement among other matters there should be expressly and clearly set forth mat'ters pertaining to the work to be done, the persons to be assigned it, and to the finances involved. § 2. With the permission of the proper superior the local ordinary can constitute a religious as pastor of a parish not entrusted ~to the inStitute; in this case a spe-cially adapted agreement should be made with the com-petent superior of the ~nstltute. 34. - § 1. A religious house, whether formal or nonfor-mal; pertaining to an exempt institute cannot be sup-pressed without the consent of the Apostolic See and without consultation of the local ordinary. § 2. Religious superiors should not be hasty in seek-ing to suppress for whatever reason a house or a work; for they Should r~member that all religious have the duty to work hard and diligently not only for the build-ing up and increase of the entire Mystical Body of Ch'rigt but also for the welfare of the particular churches. § 3. When, however, suppression Of a house or work is asked for by superio?s, especially when the reason is lack of persons, the local ordinary should consider the peti-tion in a benignant way. 35. Even.when established by the Apostolic See, asso-ciations 'of the faithful which are under the leadership an~ direction of a religiou.s institute are under the juris-diction and vigilance of the local ordinary who has the right and duty of visiting them according to the norms of the sacred canons. If they are engaged in the external works of the apostolate or in .the promotion .of divine worship, they must observe the prescriptions made in these matters b9 the local ordinary or the episcopal conference. 36.-§ 1. The apostolic zeal of the members of the in-stitutes of perfection who do not profess a purely con-templative life should not be limited to works proper to each institute or to others that are occasionally as-sumed in such a way that local ordinaries, having con-sidered the special characteristics of each institute and with the consent of the competent religious superior, can-not call on not only priest religious but also on all men and women members to assist in the various ministries of the dioceses or regions because of the needs of souls and lack of clergy. § 2. If in the judgment of the local ordinary the help of religious is thought necessary or highly useful [or ex-ercising the multiple work of the apostolate and for fos-tering undertakings of a pastoral nature in secular par-ishes or in diocesan associations, religious superiors should as far as they can furnish the desired help when the same ordinary asks for it. 37. In all churches as well as in all public or semi-public oratories belonging to religious which as a matter of fact and habitually are open to the faithful, the local ordinary can order that episc6pal documents be publicly read and catechetical instructions be given and that spe-cial offerings be collected for specified parochial, dioc-esan, national, or universal purposes, all of which offer-ings are to be carefully sent to the episcopal curia. 38. If the faithful ord!narily attend them, the local ordinary has the right of visiting the churches and ora-tories, even semipublic ones, of religious, including the exempt ones, in order to assure the observance of the gen-eral laws and of the episcopal decrees with regard to di-. vine worship. If it happens that abuse is noted in this area and if warnings given the religious superior have been without effect, he himself can take care of the mat-ter by his own authority. 39. - § 1. In accord with the norm of number 35, 4, of the decree, Christus Dorninus, the general ordering of the. Catholic schools of religious institutes, their right of directing them being safeguarded as well as the norms given in the decree, number 35, 5, concerning the previ-ous mutual consultations between bishops and religious superiors, involves the overall distribution of all Catholic schools in the diocese, their, intercooperation, and their supervision to see to it that they are no less suitable than other schools for the achievement of their c~fltural and social purposes. § 2. With the exception of purely internal schools open exclusively to members of an institute, the schools, colleges, oratories, recreation centers, homes, orphanages of religious institutes as well as other similar institutions of theirs for works of religion or of charity, whether ÷ ÷ ÷ Implementation Vatican I1 VOLUME 25, 1966 " "" 955 spiritual or temporal, can be visited by the local ordinary either personally or through another in accord with the norm of the sacred canons." 40. The norms for the inclusion of religious in dioce-san works and ministries to be exercised under the direc-tion of the bishop should also be applied, suitable adapta-tions being made, to other works and ministries which exceed diocesan boundaries. + ÷ + Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 956 Episcopal Conferences (N. 38 of the decree, Christus Dominus) 41. - § 1. The bishops of countries or territories in which an episcopal conference is not yet had should act promptly to establish one in accord with the norm of the decree, Christus Dominus; and they should frame statutes for it and send them to the Apostolic See for examination. § 2. Already established episcopal conferences must draw up their own statutes according to the prescrip-tions of the Council; or, if they already have a set of statutes, they should revise them in accord with the mind of the same Council and submit them for examination to the Apostolic See. § 3. Bishops of countries in which it is difficult to es-tablish a conference, after consultation with the Apostolic See, should join that conference which best fits the needs of the apostolate of their own nation. § 4. Episcopal conferences 6f many nations, that is, international ones, can be established only with the ap-proval of the Holy See whose right it is to establish special norms. Moreover, whenever any projects or plans of an international nature are undertaken, the Holy See should be advised about them beforehand. § 5. Relationships between episcopal conferences, es-pecially those of neighboring countries, can be main-tained in an opportune and suitable way by the secre-tariats of the conferences. The secretariats can among other matters be concerned with the following activities: a) to communicate the principal ways of proceeding especially in pastoral matters and activity; b) to send written reports giving the decisions of the conference or to send the proceedings or documents which are issued by the common agreement of the bishops; c) to point out various undertakings of the apostolate that have been proposed or recommended by the epis-copal conference and that may be useful in similar cases; d) to propose serious matters which in modern times and in particular circumstances seem to be of the greatest importance; e) to indicate dangers or errors in the country that may creep into other nations, making this indication so that suitable and opportune means can be taken to prevent, remove, or limit them; and to do other similar things. Boundaries of Ecclesiastical Provinces or Regions (Nos. 39-41 of the decree, Christus Dominus) 42. The conferences of bishops should attentively study whether the better achievement of the welfare of souls a) requires a more suitable determination of the boundaries of ecclesiastical provinces or b) indicates the establish-ment of ecclesiastical regions. If the answer to these points is affirmative, the conferences should send to the Holy See the ways by which needed revisions of the boundaries of ecclesiastical provinces and the needed establishment of regions are to be enacted in law. More-over, they should indicate to the Holy See the ways in which those dioceses in the territory should be aggregated which up to now have been immediately subject to the Holy See. Pastoral Directories (N. 44 of the decree, Christus Domi-nu$) 43. With regard to pastoral directories, patriarchal synods and episcopal conferences are asked to be prompt in studying the general and special questions to be treated in the directories and to communicate their advice and desires as soon as possible to the Apostolic See. II NORMS FOR THE DECREE ON RELIGIOUS LIFE In order that the effects of the Council may be care-fully brought to maturity, religious institutes should first of all promote a newness of spirit and then in a prudent but inventive way see to the suitable renewal of life and discipline by carefully studying the dogmatic constitu-tion, Lumen gentium (Chapters 5 and 6) as well as the decree, Perfectae caritatis, and by putting into effect the teaching and norms of the Council. The following norms, which apply and give insistence to the decree, Perfectae caritatis, hold with suitable adaptation for all religious, Latin as well as Eastern; they describe a way of proceeding and lay down certain pre-scriptions. PART I THE WAY TO PROMOTE A SUITABLE RENEWAL OF RELIGIOUS LIFE I. Those Who Should Promote a Suitable Renewal 1. The principal role in the renewal and adaptation of religious life pertains to tbe institutes themselves; they + ÷ ÷ Im~lementation o] Vatican 11 VOLUME 25, 1966 957 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 958 will achieve this especially through general chapters or, in the case of the Eastern Churches, through synax~es. The work of the chapters will be achieved no~t only by passing laws but even more so by promoting ~piritual and apostolic vitality. 2. The cooperation of all superiors and members is necessary, to renew religious life in themselves, to prepare the spirit of the chapters, to complete their work, and to faithfully observe the laws and norms enacted by the chapters. ~ 3. In order to promote a fitting renewal in each in-stitute, within two or at most three years there should meet a specia! general chapter, ordinary or extraordinary. If the chapter itself so decides by a secret vote, the chapter can be divided into two parts separated in time by an interval of generally not more than a,.year. 4. In: preparing for this chapter the general council should make suitable provision for extensive and free consultation of the members and it should put the re-stilts of this consultation into a usable form in order that the work of the chapter may be helped and orientated. This can be done, for example, by consulting conventual and proVincial~ chapters, by establishing comniissions, by issuing questionfiaires, and so forth. ~ 5. In the case of stauropegiac monasteries [Eastern monasteries with' a special type of exemption] it will be the duty of the patriarch to enact norms for achieving this consultation. 6. This general Tchapter has the right to change for experimental purposes .given noinns of the constitutions or, in the case of the Eastern churches, of the typica pro-vided that the purpose, nature, and characteristics of the institute are retained.,. Experimentations in things agaihst the general law, a matter t6 be done with prudence, will be gladly permitted by the Holy See as opportunity war-rants. These experimentations can be extended until the next ordinary general chapter which will itself have the power to again extend .them but not beyond the immediately following chapter. 7. The general council will enjoy the same power in the time period between these chapters according to con-ditions to be determined by them; in the case of the East-ern churches, this power will be had in independent monasteries by the hegoumenos with the lesser synaxis. 8. Definitive approbation of the constitutions is re-served to the competent authority. 9. With regard to the revision of the constitutions of nuns, each monastery after the fashion of a chapter or also the nuns individually should express their opinions which, in order that the unity of the religious family may be fostered according to its own characteristics, should be collected by the supreme authority of the order if there is one and otherwise by a delegate of the Holy See or, in the case of Eastern religious, by the patriarch or the local hierarch. Opinions and advice can also be ob-tained from consessions of federations or from other legitimately convoked meetings. 10. If in monasteries of nuns certain experimentations for a time with regard to observances should be judged opportune, they can be permitted by the general superiors or by delegates of the Holy See and, among the Eastern churches, by the patriarch or the local hierarch. Neverthe-less, account should be taken of the mentality and atti-tudes of cloistered persons who have need for stability and security. 11. It will be the duty of the authorities mentioned above to see to it that the text of the constitutions is re-vised with the advice and help of the monasteries them-selves and that they are submitted for the approval of the Holy See or the competent hierarchy. 1I. Revision of Constitutions and Typica 12. The general laws of each institute (whether called constitutions, typica, rules, or. any other name) should include the following elements: a) gospel and theological principles concerning the religious life and its union with the Church as well as pertinent and specific declarations in which "are recog-nized and preserved the spirit and characteristic aims of the founders as well as the sound traditions- all of which constitute the heritage of each institute" (n. 2, b) of the decree, Per[ectae caritatis); b) the juridical norms necessary for clearly defining the characteristics, purposes, and means of the institute; these norms should not be overmultiplied but should al-ways be expressed in an adequate way. 13, The union of both these elements--the spiritual, namely, and the juridical--is necessary in order that the principal documents of the institutes may have a stable foundation and that a genuine spirit and a vitalizing norm pervade them; hence care should be taken to avoid composing a text that is only juridical or merely exhorta-tory. 14. From the fundamental document of institutes there should be excluded those matters that are already obsolete or changeable according to the customs of a given age or reflect merely local customs. Those norms which reflect the present age, the physical and psychic, status of the, members, and ,the special char-acteristics of today should be placed in secondary docu- 4- 4- Implementation o/ Vatican I! VOLUME 25, 1966 959 Paul REVIEWFOR RELIGIOUS 96O ments which are called "directgries," custom books, or some other such title. " IlL Criteria of(SuitableRenewal 15. The norms and the spirit to which a suitable re-newal should correspond '~hould be derived not,only from the decree, Perfectae caritatis, but .also from the other documents of the Second Vatican' Council, especially from Chapters" 5 and 6 of the ,dogmatic constitution, Lumen gentium. 16. Institutes should see to it that the principles es-tablished in number 2 of the decree, Perfectae caritatis, generally inform the renewal of their Own religious life; therefore: - , § 1. The sLudy and meditation of Scripture should be deeply fostered in all the members from the novitiate on. Likewise, care should be taken that all ,the members ~hare by' fitting means in the mystery and life: of .the Church. § 2. The doctrine of religious life in all its various aspects (theological, historical, canonical, and so forth) should be investigated 'and explained. § 3. In order to secure the good of the Church, in-stitutes should strive for a full. knowledge of their origi-nM spirit so that, this spirit having been faithfully pre-served in the adaptations that are decided on, religious life may be purified 6f alien elements~and freed from ob-solete matters. , ~ ~ 17. Those things are~ to be regarded, as obsolete which do not constitute the nature and purpose of the institute and, having lost'their significance and relevance; no longer truly help religious, life, account,~however, being taken of the witness which the religious state should pro-vide according to its own function., ' , . '~ 18. The way ~of governing should be such that "~hap-ters and councils., each in their,:own ,way should ex-press the shared responsibility of all thd members for the welfare of the entire community" (n. 14 iof the decree, Per[ectae caritatis);,,this will be principally,achieved if tlie members have a truly effective part in. the selection of the'membership bf-chapters and councils. Similarly, the way of governing should be such that 'in~ accor~d.with the demands of modern times~ the exercise of authority is made more efficacious and more unencumbered. Hence superiors of ever.y level should be given adequate powers so that useless or overly freqiaent recourse to!higher au-thorities is not multiplied. 19. Moreover; a suitable renewal cannot be made once and for all but must be fostered in a continuous way by the help of the fervor of the members and by the solici-tude ~of chapters and superiors. PART II MATrER$ FOR ADAPTATION AND RENEWAL I. The Divine O~ice o]'Brothers and Sisters (N. 3 of the decree, Perfe~ctge caritatis) 20. Although religious who recite a 'duly approved Little Office are engaged in the public prayer of the Church (see the 'consfitution, 'Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 98)., still it is highly recommended to institutes that in place of a Little Office 'they recite either in ~part or in whole the Divine Office so that they may take more in-umate part in the liturgical life of the Church. However, Eastern'members should recite the doxologies, and the divine praises in accord with their own typica and cus-toms. II. Mental Prayer (N. 6 of the decree, Perfdctae caritatis) 21.'In order that reli~gious may participate more inti-mately a.nd fruitfully in the sacred mystery of the Eucha-rist and that their life be nourished riaore abundantly, greater place should be given to mental prayer in prefer-ence to a multiplicity of vocal prayers, there being main-tained,, however, the exercises of devotion commonly re-ceived in the Chui~ch and du~ care being taken that the members are diligently instructed in the conduct of"~he spiritual life. ' III. Mortification (Nos. 5 and 12 of the decree, Per]ectae caritatis) 22. Religious more than the rest of the f~iitfiful should be devoted to works of penance and mortification. How-ever," the ,special penitential observances~ of institutes .should, as far as there is need, be r~evised so that, du9 con-sideration having been given to the traditions of the East .or the West and to modern conditions, the .members can actually put them into practice together with new forms taken from today's mode of living. IV. Poverty (N. 13 of the decree, Per]ectae caritatis) 23. Institutes, especially through their general chap-ters, should diligently and concretely promote the spirit and practice of poverty in accord with the mind of num-ber 13 of the decree, Per[ectae caritatis; in accord with their distinctive nature they should also seek and insist on new forms of poverty which will make the exercise and witness of poverty more efficacious for the present time. 24. Institutes of simple vows should themselves decide in their gdneral chapter whether there should be intro-duced into the constitutions a renunciation of patrimony + + ÷ Implementation 'Vatican II VOLUME 25, 1966 961 already acquired or to be acquired and, if it is decided to do so, whether it should be obligatory or voluntary and when it should be done, that is, whether before perpetual profession or after some years. Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 96~ .V. Common Life (N. 15 of the decree, Perfectae caritatis) 25. In institutes devoted to works of the apostolate .common life, since it is of great importance if the mem-bers as a family united in Christ are to reactualize their brotherly fellowship, should be promoted by every means in a way that is fitted to the vocation of the institnte. 26, In institutes of this kind the daily order can often not be ~the same in all the houses nor at times in the same house for. all its.members. However, it should also be so arranged that the religious besides the time given to spiritual matters and to work may have some time for themselves and caw enjoy suitable recreation. 27. General chapters and synaxes should investigate ways in which those members who are called lay brothers, cooperators, or some other name can gradually obtain active voice in specific acts of the community and in elections as well.as passive voice with regard to certain positions; in this way they will become more closely .joined to the life and works of the community, and priests .will be able,to devote themselves with more freedom to the ministries. 28. In monasteries which have come to the decision of ¯ having,'Only one class of nuns, choir obligations should be specified in the constitutions, consideration being .giye.n to the diversity of persons which the distinction of works and special vocations requires. 29. Sisters devoted to the exte~'nal service of monas-teries, called oblates or some other name, should be gov-erned by special statutes in which consideration should be given to their vocation which is not purely contempla-tive and to the exigencies of the vocation of the nuns in ufiion with whom they live even though they are not nuns. The superioress of the monastery has a serious'respon-sibility to,take solicitor's care of them, to provide them .w.ith a suitable religious formation, to treat them with a g~nuine spirit of love, and to foster their bond of fellow-ship with the community of nuns. VI. The Cloister of Nuns (N. 16 of the decree, Perlectae caritatis) 30. The papal cloister of monasteries is to be consid-ered as an ascetical institution which is specially linked to their'distinctive vocation since it is a sign, defense, and special form of their withdrawal from the world. Nuns of the Eastern rites should observe their own kind of cloister in the same spirit. 31. This cloister is to be adapted in such a way that material separation from the' outside is always retained. However, each family according to its own spirit can de-termine and specify in the constitutions particular norms for this material separation. 32. Minor cloister is abrogated. Nuns, therefore, who by their institute are devoted to external works should define this cloister in their constitutions. But nuns who, t~hough contemplat.ive by reason of their institute, have nevertheless under'taken external works, should, after a sufficient amount of tJ.me granted them for deliberation, either give UP their external works and retain papal cloister or retain the works and define their own cloister in the constitutions, their status as nuns bein~ retained. ' VII. The Training of,Religious (N. 18 of the decree, Perfectae caritatis) 33. The training of members from the novitiate on should not be conducted in the. same way in all institutes, but rather consideration should be given to the distinc-tive nature of each institute. In revising and adapting training, an adequate and prudent place should be given to experience. . 34. The matters set down in the decree, Optata.m totius (on the training of priests), should be suitably, adapted in accord with the nature of each insti.tute.and faith-fully observed in the way of training religious clerics. ¯ 35. Further training to be given after the novitiate, in a way. suited to the individual institute is necessary for all members even those of the contemplativ, e life, for brothers in lay institutes, and for sisters in institutes de-voted to apostolic works. This training; already in. exist-ence in many institutes under the name of juniorate, scholasticate, or some other title, should in general ex-tend for the entire period of; temporary vows. 36. This training should be given in suitable houses; and, lest it be merely thebretical, it should be comple-mented by an apprenticelike exercise of the works and functions that are in accord with the characteristics and circumstances of each institute so that the ones being trained may be gradually introduced to the life which they will live thereafter. 37. Without prejudice to the characteristic formation in each institute, when individual institutes cannot suffi-ciently provide academic or technical training, this can be supplied by a fraternal collaboration of a number of them. This can take different forms and ways: common lectures or courses, the lending of teachers, even the con-solidation of teachers and equipment in a common Implementation Vatican II VOLUME 25, "1966 963 school to be attended by members of a number of insti-tutes. Institutes which are provided with the necessary means should willingly give help to others. 38. After adequate experimentation, it will be the duty of each institute to draw up its own adapted norms for the training of members. VIII. The Union and. Suppression of Institutes (Nos. 21-2 of the decree, Perfectae caritatis) 39. The promotion of union of any kind among in-stitutes presupposes an adequate spiritual, psychological, and juridical preparation in accord with the mind of Perfectae caritatis. To achieve this it will often be advan-tageous for institutes to be helped by an adviser approved by the competent authority. 40. In the cases and circumstances just mentioned, the good of the Church is to be looked for, due consideration, however, being given to the special nature of each in-stitute and to the freedom of individual members. 41. After all circumstances have been considered, the following when found together should retain a specie/1 place among the criteria which can contribute to form-ing the judgment to suppress an institute or a monas-tery: a small number of religious relative to the years of existence; lack of candidates over a number of years; ad-vanced age of the greater part of the members. If sup-pression is decided on, provision should be made that the suppressed institution be joined "if it be possible, to an-other, more vigorous institute or monastery which is not very different in purpose and spirit" (n. 21 of the decree, Perfectae caritatis). Each religious, however, should be previously consulted; and everything should be done in charity. Paul Vl REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 964 IX. Conferences and Unions of Majqr Superiors and Superioresses (N. 23 of the decree, Perfectae caritatis) 42. Care should be taken that the union of superiors general and the union of superioresses general be able to be heard and consulted by means of a commission estab-lished with the Sacred Congregation of Religious. 43. It is of the greatest importance that the national conferences or unions of major superiors and of major superioresses should confidently and respectfully cooper-ate with the episcopal conferences (see n. 35, 5 of the decree, Christus Dominus; n. 33 of the decree, Ad gentes divinitus). Hence it is hoped that matters pertaining to both sides will be treated in mixed commissions composed of bishops and major superiors or superioresses. CONCLUSION 44. These norms, which apply to religious of the en-tire Church, leave intact the general laws of the Church, whether of the Latin Church or of the Eastern Churches, as well as the specific laws of religious institutes unless these norms change them explicitly or implicitly. III NORMS FOR IMPLEMENTING THE DECREE ON MISSIONARY ACTIVITY Vatican Council II's decree, ,4d genres divinitus (on the missionary activity of the Church), should be es-teemed by the entire Church and be faithfully observed by everyone so that the entire People of God should be-come genuinely missionary and conscious of its mission-ary obligation; local ordinaries should see to it that the decree comes to the knowledge of all the faithful: there should be clergy conferences and sermons to the people to explain and emphasize the common obligation of all with regard to missionary activity. In order to make the application of the decree easier and more faithful, the following enactments are given: 1. The theology of missions should be included in the theological doctrine that is to be taught and progressively deepened; this is to be done in such a way that the mis-sionary nature of the Church is clearly visible. More-over, the ways of the Lord in His preparation for the gospel and the possibility of salvation for those not evangelized should be considered; and emphasis must be given to the necessity of evangelization and of incorpora-tion into the Church (Chapter 1 of the decree, Ad gentes divinitus). All these matters should be kept in view when studies in seminaries and universities are newly organized and duly ordered (n. 39). 2. Episcopal conferences are invited to propose to the Holy See as soon as possible general questions abont the missions which can be considered in the coming meeting of the synod of bishops (n. 29). 3. To increase the missionary spirit in the Christian people, prayers and daily sacrifices should be fostered in such a way that the annual Mission Day shonld appear as a spontaneous indication of that spirit (n. 36). Bishops and episcopal conferences should compose petitions for the missions to be inserted into the Prayer of the Faithful at Mass. 4. In each diocese a priest should be designated for the effective promotion of missionary undertakings, and he should also be a member of the pastoral council of the diocese (n. 38). ÷ ÷ ÷ Implementation o! Vatican 1I VOLUME 25, 1966 965 + ÷ ÷ Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 966 5. To promote the missionary spirit students in semi-naries and young people of Catholic associations should be encouraged to have contacts with seminary students and similar associations in the missions so that a mutual understanding may foster in the Christian people a mis-sionary and ecclesial consciousness (n. 38). 6. Being aware of the urgency of the evangelization of the world, bishops should promote missionary voca-tions among their clerics and young people; and to in-stitutes engaged in 'missionary work they should furnish the means and opportunities by which they may make the needs of the missions known in the diocese and. may arouse vocations (n. 38). In arousing vocations for the missions care should be taken to set forth the mission of the Church to all peoples and the ways in which various types (institutes, priests, religious, and lay persons of both sexes) try_ to achieve this mission. Chiefly, however, .the special missionary vocation "for life" (nos. 23, 24) should be extolled and illustrated by examples. 7. The Pontifical Missionary Works should be pro-moted in all dioceses; and their statutes, especially those with regard.to the transmission of assistance~ should be duly obser.ved (n. 38): 8. Since.the .offerings given to the missions by the faithful of their own accord are not nearly sufficient, it is recommended that as soon as possible there .be enacted a set contribution, proportioned to the revenues of each, which both the diocese and the parishes and other group-ings of the diocese should pay each year and which should be distributed by the Holy See, all other obligations of the faithful remaining (n. 38). 9. Episcopal conferences should have an episcopal' com-mission for the missions whose, work it will be to foster among the dioceses missionary activity and consciousness and an abiding attitude of cooperation, to be .in contact with other episcopal conferences, and to, investigate ways in which as far as possible equitable arrangements of missionary help may be safeguarded (n. 38). 10. Because missionary institutes remain very neces-sary, all should acknowledge that they have had the work of evangelization entrusted to them by ecclesiastical au-thority in order to carry out the missionary dutyof the entire People of God (n. 27). 11. Bishops should also use missionary institutes in order that they might enkindle the faithful with a desire for missionary activity; bishops should also furnish them opportunities, right order being observed, of arousing and fostering in young people vocations to the missions and of asking for contributions (nos. 23, 37, 38). In order, however, that greater unity and effectiven&s be achieved, the bishops should use a national or regional missionary council which will consist of the directors of the Pontifical Works and of the missionary institutes existing in the country or region. 12. Each missionary institute should as soon as possible take care of its own adaptation and renewal especial!y with regard to its methods of evangelization and of Chris-tian initiation (nos. 13, 14) as well as to its way of living in communities (n~ 3 of the decree, Perfectae caritatis). 13. - § 1. It is necessary that for all missions there be only one competent curial, department; namely, the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith. Since, however, certain missions for special reasons are still subject temporarily to other curial departments, there should be established in these other departments a missionary section that should have close relations with the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith in order that in the organizing and directing of the mis-sions a completely constant and uniform norm can be had (n. 29). § 2. To the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith are subject the Pontifical Missionary Works; namely, the Pontifical Work for the Propagation of the Faith, the Work of St. Peter for native clergy; the Union of the Clergy for the Missions, and the Work of the Holy Childhood. 14. The president of the secretariat for fostering the unity of Christians is by reason of his office a member of the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith while the secretary of the same secretariat is included among the consultors of the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith (n. 29). Similarly, the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith should be represented at the secretariat for fostering the unity of Christians. 15. In the direction of the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith twenty-four representatives take part with a deliberative vote unless in individual cases the supreme pontiff should decide otherwise; namely, twelve prelates from the missions and four, from other regions, four from superiors of institutes, four from the Pontifical Works; all of these shonld meet twice a year. Members of this board are appointed for five years with almost a fifth part being changed every year. When they have finished one term, they can be appointed for an-other five years. In accord with norms to be sent as soon as possible from the Apostolic See, episcopal conferences, institutes, and the Pontifical ~rorks should propose to the supreme pontiff the names of those from whom the supreme pontiff may select the representatives mentioned above as + .+ + Implementation oS Vatican II VOLUME 25, 1966 .967 Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 968 well as the names of those, including persons living on the missions, from,whom consultors can be selected. 16. Representatives of religious institutes on the mis-sions and of regional works for the missions as well as of councils of laymen have a part in the meetings of this congregation with consultive vote (n. 29). 17. After consulting the episcopal conferences and mis-sionary institutes, the Sacred Congregation for the Propa-gation of ,the Faith should delineate .as soon as possible the general principles according to which agreements should be made between local ordinaries and mission in-stitutes with regard to" the regulation of their mutual, re-lationships (n. 32). In making these agreements consideration', should be given both. to the continuance of missionary work andoto the needs of the institutes (n. 32). 18. Because~ it is desirable that episcopal.conferences be joined intooorganic groups along socio-cultural lines, the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Fi~ith (n. 29) should promote such coordinations of episcopal conferences. " Together with the Sacred Congregation for.the Propa-gation of the Faith, the work of these conferences~ will be the following: 1°. To seek ways, including new ones, in which by joint effort- the faithful and the missionary institutes may insert themselves into the peoples and groups among whom they live or to whom they are sent (nos. 10, 11) and :with whom they should conduct a dialogue of salvation. 2°. To establish study groups who should investigate peoples' ways of thinking about the universe, about man, and about man's interior attitude toward God and who should subsume for theological consideration'whatever is good or true. Such theological study should furnish the necessary foundation :for making adaptations, the consideration ~of which should also be a duty of the aforementioned study groups. Among other 'matters these adaptations should be concerned with. methods of ~vangelizing, liturgical forms, religious life, arid ecclesiastical legislation (n. 19). As far as methods of evangelization and of catechesis ~a~e concerned, the Sacred Congregation for the Propaga-tion of the Faith should promote close cooperation with advanced-level pastoral institutes. As far as liturgical forms are concerned, the study groups should send documents and opinions, to the Com-mittee for the Implementation of The Constitution on the Liturgy. ~As far as the religious ~state is concerned (n. 18), care should be taken that external form (exemplified by ex- ternal appearances, clothing, arts, and so forth) not be given more attention than the religious characteristics of peoples which should be assumed or assimilated to evan-gelical perfection. 3°. To promote at determined times meetings of those teaching in seminaries in order, after consultation with the study groups already mentioned, to adapt courses of study and to mutually exchange information so that better attention be directed to today's needs in the matter of priestly training (n. 16). 4°. To examine the best way in which manpower (priests, catechists, institutes, and so forth) can be dis-tributed in the territory and especially the way in which care can be taken of the scarcity of manpower in places that are highly populated. 19. In distributing resources a suitable part should be reserved each year for the formation and sustenance of the local clergy, the missionaries, the catechists, and the study groups mentioned in number 18. Bishops should send reports about these matters to the Sacred Congrega-tion for the Propagation of the Faith (nos. 17, 29). 20. A pastoral council should be duly established; its work will be, in accord with number 27 of the decree, Christus Dominus, "to investigate, appraise, and draw practical conclusions about matters pertaining to pastoral works," to do its share in preparing the diocesan synod, and to take care of the execution of the statutes of the synod (n. 30). 91. On the missions there should be established con-ferences of religious men and unions of religious women in which the major superiors of all institutes of the same nation or region should take part and by which their undertakings may be coordinated (n. 33). 22. According to possibilities and needs scientific in-stitutes should be multiplied; they should cooperate by common consent in order that the work of investigation and specialization be well organized; and duplication of works of the same nature should be avoided in the same region (n. 34). 23. In order that immigrants from mission countries be duly received and assisted by suitable pastoral care on the part of bishops of countries who have long been Christian, cooperation with missionary bishops is neces-sary (n. 38). 24. With regard to lay persons on the missions: § 1. Urgent emphasis should be put on the following: sincere intention of serving, the missions, maturity, suit-able preparation, professional specialization, and a suffi-ciently long time to be spent on the mission. ÷ 4. 4- Implementation 'Vatican 11 § 2. Consociations of lay persons for the missions should be effectively intercoordinated. § 3. The bishop of the mission locality should be so-licitous [or such lay persons. § 4. The social security of such lay persons should be safeguarded (n. 41). ,÷ ÷ Paul Vi REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 97~ THOMAS BARROSSE, C.S.C. Religious Community and the Primitive Chul'ch In the opening chapters of the Acts of the Apostles St. Luke describes how the Church began her life. The Spirit came. The Apostles preached. The gospel was believed. The believers were baptized, and the Church had come into existence. At the end of Chapter 2, Luke furnishes a vignette of life in the primitive Christian community. In Chapters 3 and 4 he introduces the threat of persecution and opposition. Then, once more, at the end of Chapter 4, he provides a sketch of life in the earliest Church. These pictures presented in Acts 2 and 4 are somewhat idealized. In Chapters 5 and 6, he will. quite frankly fill the shadows in: the deceit of Ananias and Sapphira and the grumbling of the Diaspora Jewish Christians against their Palestinian fellow believers. But he wishes first to present the life of the primitive community in its best light so that the memory of the earliest Apostolic Chureh can haunt his Christian readers down through thd years as a model they will want to emulate. ~ The casual, or even the careful, present-day reader of the Gospels of Mark and Luke might form for himself a rather individualistic conception of the ideal Christian: a person who believes (for "he who believes and is baptized will be saved"--Mk 16:16), who loves (for to the questioia, "What must I do to possess eternal life?" thd answer' is, "You must love the Lord your God. and your neighbor --Lk 10:25-7), who is completely detached (for "he who does not renounce all that he possesses cannot be my dis-ciple"-- Lk 14:33), who remains faithful through tribula-tion (for "he who perseveres to the end will be saved"m Mk 13:13). This conception is false, of course, and the Book of Acts, which shows how what the Lord Jesus pre-pared by His ministry and effected by His sufferings and Thomas Barrosse, C.S.C., is on the staff of the general-ate of the Congre-gation of the Holy Cross; Via Aurelia Antica, 391; Rome, Italy. VOLUME 25, 1"966 " ÷ + ÷ Tho~mas Barrosse, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS glory actually came to be, makes it very clear that the work of Christ was the creation of a communily of faith, of love, and of hope in the midst of tribulations. Here is the picture Luke paints in Chapter 2 (vv. 41-5): "Those who received [Peter's] word [with faith] were bap-tized"-- a community constituted by faith and baptism. "They were persevering in the teaching of the Apostles" --a community that maintained itself in existence by nourishing its faith. But also a community of love--for "they were persevering., in the common life--hoin6n[a --[which manifested itself in] the breaking of the bread [--the common, eucharistic meal--] and the [common] prayers" but which manifested itself too in their sharing of material goods since "the believers., considered all things common and were selling their property and be-longings and dividing up the proceeds among all accord-ing as anyone had need." Their love was not restricted to the group: they were an open community since "they were persevering daily in the temple., and enjoying favor with all the people." This same picture recurs in Chapter 4 (vv. 32-5): "The whole multitude of believers were one heart and one soul, and no one said any of his belongings were his own, but all things were common for them . " The shadow of the cross, which already falls across the community in Chapter 4 when Peter and John are ar-rested and threatened, gradually crystallizes into a princi-ple of life. It is finally formulated in 14:22 when Paul points out that only "through many tribulations must we come into the kingdom of God." Let us see how much the thought of this ideal Christian community depicted by Luke in Acts influenced the origins of religious life. Students of Christian monasticism (a way of life that would diversify and proliferate into the many forms of religious life which we know today) usually find its be-ginnings in fourth century Christian Egypt. Before that time there existed in the Church both celibates (especially virgins and widows) and "ascetics" (literally, "exercisers" or "practicers"). The celibates felt that it was given to them to forego married life for the sake of the kingdom of heaven (Mr 19:11 f.) or that they had the gift of re-maining unmarried to give undivided attention to the Lord (1 Cot 7:7 and 32-5). The ascetics applied certain New Testament passages--like Jesus' advice to the rich young man to sell all his belongings if he wanted to be perfect (Mr 19:21)--quite literally to themselves in their attempts to live a full Christian life. But the Christian ideal--or the ideal Christian--was the martyr. The martyr was the believer who by his total self-re-nunciation showed his perfect love--and even the celi- bates and ascetics hoped and prayed for the great favor of undergoing martyrdomA Clement of Alexandria in the third century could echo Ignatius of Antioch and Polycarp of Smyrna in the second in saying: "We call martyrdom perfection (telei6sis) not because the man has reached the end (telos) of his life, as others do, but be-cause he has displayed the perfect (tdleios) work of love." e For this reason, it was the martyr who was considered the Christian most resembling Christ and the Apostles. "The Lord," says Clement of Alexandria again, "was the first to drink the cup . In imitation of him, the Apostles as. perfect men suffered for the churches which they founded." 3 Even before, but especially after, the age of martyrs ended, the Church fathers tried to show that other ideal Christians could be found. They pointed out how espe-cially the celibates and the ascetics were, like the martyrs, "athletes" or "soldiers" of Christ who showed their per-fect faith and love by their perfect self-renunciation. If martyrdom might be called a second baptism, so might profession of the celibate or ascetical life.4 In fourth century Egypt St. Anthony turned the private initiative of scattered ascetics into an organized mass movement. Undertaking the life of an ascetic, he learned this virtuous and prayerful way of life from other Christians who lived it more or less in retirement. He came to appreciate from them how he might more literally put the various suggestions and injunctions of the New Testament into practice in his own life. Then after twenty years of solitude and struggle for mastery over himself, he became, at their request, the teacher of large numbers who were stirred by his example. His contemporary and acquaintance, St. Athanasius, in Chap-ter 1 of his Li~e o~ Anthony describes how the Lord "gave Anthony grace in speech so that., he induced many to choose the solitary life." The biographer con-tinues: "From that time there have been monasteries [that is, hermitages] even in the mountains, and the desert was made a city by monks . " ~ Anthony's dis-course on the ascetic life in Chapters 16 to ~ of this work has even been called the first rule of life for monks. x See St. Athanasius, Life of Anthony, Chapters 46 and ~t7, in Early Christian Biographies, trans. Sister Mary Emily Keenan (New York: Fathers of the Church, 1952), pp. 177-8. a Stromata 4, 4 (translated and commented by E. Malone, The Monk and the Martyr [Washingtou: Catholic University, 1950], p. 5). Religious ~ Stromata 4, 9 (translated [and here slightly adapted] in E. Ma- Community lone, The Monk and the Martyr, p. 6). * Malot~e, The Monk and the Martyr, Chapters Three to Six. ~Athanasius, Life o[ Anthony, in Keenan, Early Christian Biog-raphies, p. 149. VOLUME 25, 1966 973 ÷ ÷ Thomas Barrosse, C,.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 97,1 At times these "monks" (that is, "solitaries") lived two or more together.~ But their association remained limited and voluntary. They were basically hermits (that is, "des-ert"- dwellers) or anchorites (that is, people in "retire-ment"). This sort of life in modified form has continued on in the Church to the present day--in the West among the Carthusians and the Camaldolese, for example, and in communities of semi-solitaries in the East. It won the ad-miration of the' western European writers of the patristic age, and many of them looked upon it as a higher life than the one to which we now turn. While Anthony lived in northern Egypt, another as-cetic, Pachomius, was organizing the ascetical life on another pattern to the south. After some training in the life under another, older man, he began to gather dis-ciples and train them. He organized them into a com-munity-- koin6nla--the very word that Luke uses in Acts 2:42 to describe the "common life" of the primitive Church. He composed a detailed rule for these cenobites (that is, men with a "common life"). Theodore, close disciple and successor of Pachomius, presents it as a "model for whoever desires to bring souls together ac-cording to God in order that they may become perfect." 7 We must not think of it merely as a practical measure to train fervent individuals. If we read on in Pachomius' life, we find that he worked gradually to dispose his disciples "to bind themselves to one another in perfect community after the manner of what stands written in Acts of the believers: 'They were a single heart and a single soul, and all goods belonged to them in common; there was no one who said of what belonged to him, "It is mine.' . s In addition, they referred to one another as "brothers," the term the Book of Acts and the New Testament epistles use to designate the relationship of early Christians to one another. One of his early lives even describes a visit of Pachomius' disciples to Anthony after their master's death, in which the latter declares "that he gathered souls around him in order to offer them pure to the Lord is a fact which shows that he is su-perior to us and that the way he followed is the Apostle's way, that is, the koin6nia" 9 When Pachomius~ disciples press Anthony with the question: "If the common life . is the higher way of the Apostles, then why did you not live in community.?" the anchorite answers that elbid., Chapters 11 and 91, in Keenan, Early Christian Biogra-phies, pp. 145 and 213. * L. Lefort (ed.), Les vies coptes de saint Pachdme (Louvain: Mu-s~ on, 1943), pp. 60-1. s Ibid., p. 276. 0 Ibid., pp. 3 and 65. he had no choice when he became a monk: there were no communities to join.1° This idea that the common life was, in its original inspiration, an attempt to create an ideal Christian com-munity on the pattern of the primitive Church of Acts 2 and 4 recurs frequently and emphatically in the teach-ing of Pachomius' successors. Theodore, for example, says: "It is by a favor of God. that the holy koin6nla ap-peared on earth., by which he made the Apostolic life known to men desirous of modeling themselves after the Apostles . ,, n The idea is found decades later even among the anchorites of the north. When John Cassian, who clearly regarded the eremitical life as superior to the cenobitic, visited the monks of northern Egypt, them-selves anchorites, he learned their conviction that the cenobitic way of life was the Apostles' own foundation! He cites one of the anchorites he interviewed: The system of Cenobites took its rise in the days of the preaching of the Apostles. For such was all that multitude of believers in Jerusalem which is thus described in the Acts of the Apostles--[he then cites Acts 4:32-5 and 2:45]. The whole Church, I say, was then such as now are those few who can be found with difficulty in coenobia. But when at the death of the Apostles the multitude of believers began to wax cold . those who still maintained the fervour of the apostles, mindful of that former perfection, left their cities and intercourse with those who thought that carelessness and a laxer life was per-missible to themselves and the Church of God, and began to live in rural and more seqnestered spots, and there, in private and on their own account, to practise those things wlfich they had learnt to h~ve been ordered by the apostles throughout the whole body of the Church in general . He goes on to explain how they are called "monks" (that is, "solitaries") because of their retirement and "cenobites" because of their community life. He con-cludes: That then alone was the earliest kind of monks, which is first not only in time but also in grace, and which continued un-broken for a very long period up to the time of Abbot Paul and Anthony; and even to this day we see its traces remaining in strict coenobia. The anchorites, he says, began only with Paul the Hermit and Anthony, who were the "flowers and fruit" of the common life.~2 The monastic life, especially in its Antonian form, spread over Palestine and Syria. After the mid-fourth 10 Ibid., pp. 268 and 323. n H. Bacht, "Pakh6me et ses disciples," in Thdologie de la vie mo1n.aos tCiqoune f(ePraernics:e A18u,b Ciehr,a 1p9te6r1 5), (ptr.a 6n7s.lated by E. Gibson in .4 Select Library o[ Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, 2od series, v. 11 [New York: Christian Literature Company, 1894; reprinted Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1955], pp. 480-1. . ¯ ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Communit~ VOLUME 25, 1966 975 ÷ Thomas, BarrCo.sSs.eC, . ~EVIEW FO~ ~ELIGIOU$ 976 century it existed in Cappadocia (what is today south central Turkey) in a form that in many ways strikingly resembles the Pachomian pattern but quite ~possibly without any dependence on Egypt. It found an important organizer and legislator in St. Basil the Great. Cappadocian monasticism was exclusively cenobitic, and Basil's Longer Rules tell us why.13 These rules, more a commentary on monastic life and usages than a set of regulations, .begin (Preface) with the question "Why have we come together?" The answer is: "To live the devout life'S---or "To do what God wants." What he wants, he himself tells us(qq. 1-3): "You must love the Lord your God with your whole heart., and your neighbor." Basil goes on to explain the life of monks as an attempt to prac-tice this love. He emphasizes the need of some degree of retirement from possible distractions and the desirability of association with. like-minded companions (qq. 6-7), but he explicitly rejects a solitary life because the love Christ taught us does not permit each p.erson to look simply after his own. concerns while the solitary life, he says, does just this (q. 7). He buttresses his argument on the need for community by numerous New Testament citations on fraternal charity and union as the distinctive marks of those who are one with Christ. He climaxes his remarks by pointing out that life in community preserves what was "characteristic of the saints, of whom it is recorded in the Book of Acts: 'And all they that be-lieved were together and had all things common,' and again: 'And the multitude of believers had one heart and one soul; neither did anyone say that aught of (he things which he possessed was his own, but all things were com-mon tinto them' " (q. 7).14 So important does Basil consider this' union that he will not permit more than one community-one "fra-ternity" or "brotherhood," ag he prefers to say--in any one town (q. 35). Once more, his climactic argument against division into several communities is the 'ideal picture of the close-knit primitive Church sketched in Acts 2 and 4, to which he joins Paul's description of the Church in Ephesians 4. The Basilian community is not so close-knit as to be cl6sed in on itself. If the Egyptian hermits and communi-ties worked not only to support themselves b~t also to be able to give alms?5 the Cappadocian fraternities ran hospices for the sick and the poor, orphanages, and ~Translated in Saint Basil, Ascetical Works, trans. Sister M. Monica Wagner (New York: Fathers of the Church, 1950), pp. 223- 37. 1~ Ibid., p. 252. ~Athanasius, Life of Anthony, Chapter 43, in Keenan, Early Christian Biographies, pp. 174-5. schools, and considered work for the community or for the outsiders more important than austerities.1° They were in a sense "the nucleus and the elite of the 'parish,' and [their] liturgy seems [to have been] identical with that of the local church, but with this difference that the ordinary Christians did not participate in it except to only a quite limited extent." 17 In the Africa that lay west of Egypt the ascetical lif9 was also known. St. Augustine's name is associated with its organization not only because he was among the firs~ bishops to have his clergy live a monastic life with him but because of the letter (n, 211) in which he prescribes observances for a community of women in his diocese and which seems to be the source of the Rule of St. Augustine. In all his efforts to organize monastic li'fe, lie looked to forming an ideal Christian community after the pat7 tern of the primitive Church of Acts 2 and 4. The com-munity of lay monks that he organized shortly after his conversion had as its model, his early biographer Pos-sidius tells us, the "common life" (societas) lived "under the holy Apostles" in Acts. The monastic organi~zation of his clergy in the bishop's house at Hippo had as its purpose, Augustine himself explains, "that, as far as we can, we may imitate the saints of whom the book of the Acts of the Apostles speaks," and he quotes Acts 4.is In his letter to the community of women mentioned above, he begins: "This is what we prescribe that you observe in the monastery in which you live. In the first place, since this is the reason for your coming together, you must live in unity in the house, and you must have a single soul and a single heart turned toward God. You must not speak among yourselves of personal goods, but rather have all things in common." 10 He continues: "It is thus that you read in the Acts of the Apostles that 'all things were common unto them, and distribution was made to everyone according as he had need.' "20 These texts of Acts depicting the life of the primitive Church haunted Augustine.21 He returns to them no less than fifty-three times in his different works. An examina- 18 C. Butler, Benedictine Monachism (2nd ed.; London: Longmans, 1924), pp. 16-7; J. Gribomont, "Saint Basile," in Thdologie de la vie monastique, p. 113. x7 p. Salmon, The Breviary through the Centuries (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1962), pp. 130-1, footnote 4. xs For citations and references see M. Verheijen, "Saint Augustin," in Thdologie de la vie monastique, pp. 201-2~ a9 Ibid., pp. 203-4. ~See the entire letter in Saint Augustine, Letters, trans. Sister Wilfrid Parsons, v. 5 (New York: Fathers of the Church, 1956), pp.- 38-51. The passage cited occurs on pp, 41-2. ~ For most of the following statistics and details see Verheijen, "Saint Augustin," pp. 204--12. + + 4- Religious . Community VOLUME 25, 1966 tion of these passages shows that he recognized in this vignette of the early Church a picture of the community of love which Christians on earth should be, made one in Christ by the presence of the Holy Spirit, Himself infinite love--a unity which is at the same time an antici-pation and beginning of the fuller community of love which the Church will be throughout eternity. The life of communities of monks, clerical or lay, and the life of communities of virgins was simply the realization of this ideal by these people in a way not possible for the gen-erality of Christians. Whet/we examine early European monasticism, we dis-cover a heavy Egyptian influence. All over ancient Christian Europe the eremitical life was known and praised. So was the cenobitic. The great organizer of western monasticism concerned himself only with draw-ing up a rule for cenobites. He organized and modified. Up to the time of St. Benedict, Abbot Cuthbert Butler explains, monks, though looked upon as bound, whether by vows or without them, irrevocably to the practice of the monastic life, so that to abandon it was considered an apostasy, still were not tied to a particular monastery or community, but were allowed with little difficulty to pass from one house to another. St Benedict's most special and tangible contribution to the de-velopment of monasticism was the introduction of the vow of stability . [By this means] he put a stop to such liberty of passage from monastery to monastery and incorporated the monk by his profession in the community of his own monastery. St Benedict thus bound the monks of a monastery together into a permanent family, united by bonds that lasted for life.'~ ÷ ÷ 4- Thomas Barrosse, .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In examining his Rule the casual reader may feel he finds relatively little beyond Chapter 63 (on the order of the community) about the relations of the monks with one another. Several points, however, deserve attention. It is quite clear that all the "brothers"--that is, all the monks--have a voice in the running of the community. The abbot must submit all important matters for the ad-vice of all the brothers, and in even minor matters he must get the advice of at least the older members of the community (Chapter 3). It is clear too that the common life means not only living in the same monastery and praying and eating together but also having all material goods in common--hence, a really extensive sharing of life. In this context the Rule cites Acts 4 three times over.23 .~o ~B Iunt lCerh,a Bpetenresd 3ic3ti n(we hMeothnearc hmisomn,k psp s. h2o7u-8ld; have anything of their own), 34 (whether all should receive necessities in equal measure), and 55 (on the brothers' clothing and footwear). The Benedictine Rule (Prologue) declares as its pur-pose to establish a "school of the Lord's service"--not, however, in the sense of a place one leaves (for example, for eremitical life) when he has learned what is taught there. It is written (as the Prologue goes on to say) for those who will "persevere in the monastery until death." The expression "school" occurs of the Church itself in Christian literature of the patristic period (for example: the school of Christ as opposed to the schools of the philosophers).~4 It is not at all unlikely that it is meant to designate the monastery simply as a community where the Christian life can be lived progressively bett6rmand, of course, the Christian life is radically altruistic. The original Benedictine community was by no means closed in completely on itself. Chapter 53 of the Rule (on the reception of guests) has made BenediCtine hospi-tality proverbial. The monks', readiness to evangelize the countryside around their monasteries (for example, at Monte Cassino) and to go on foreign missions (for ex~- ample, Augustine and his companions, who went to England at Gregory the Great's behest) as well as to open monastic schools shows that they were disposed to work for the larger Christian community both outside their monasteries and in themY~ In short, in this respect the Benedictine community resembled the Basilian--Bene-dict says (Rule, Chapter 73) he owes much to his eastern predecessor--and even surpass~ed it. We may sum up what we have seen so far. Th~ phe-nomenon we call religious life originated in fourth century Egypt where Anthony and Pachomius gave as-cetics an organized way of life to follow. It assumed two forms: the eremitic or solitary form (Anthony's) ' and the cenobitic or community form (Pachomius'). The latter developed remarkably--perhaps independently of Egypt --in Cappadocia under Basil. It also found a great fifth century African organizer in Augustine and a sixth century European organizer in Benedict. Pachomius, Basil, and Augustine found the model of what they ,d~re trying to create in the idealized sketch of the primitive community of faith and fraternal love which Luke pre-sents in Acts 2 and 4. Though the inspir~ition of this vision is not so evident in B~nedict, his Rule, by its introduction of stability, mdr~ effectively provided for ~ permanent community in which the Christian life could be lived to the full, Now let us ask briefly about the other three.elements which today, with the common life, form the canonical -°4 See La R~gle du Maitre, ed. Adalbert de Vogii~, v. 1 (Paris: Cerf, 1964), pp. 115-6. = Butler, Benedictine Mona~hism, pp. 389-90, nuances this state-ment. Religious ~ommunity VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ Thomas Barrosse, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 980 minimum for the religious state: poverty, chastity, and obedience. How were they viewed by the great organizers? It has been customary for centuries to look upon these three--religious poverty, celibacy, and obedience--as an asceticism meant to counter the obstacles to love, in which, of course, the perfection .of the Christian life consists,zn Today, when it has become the style to dis-parage asceticism, this conception has lost appeal. We must recognize quite frankly, however, that in the early centuries of organized monastic life celibacy and poverty and obedience were repeatedly presented as an asceticism --that is, as a tangible expression of that readiness to leave all for Christ which we can call detachment and which is the necessary condition for love. But--what is of more importance for us at the moment--they were also looked upon as being in themselves expressions of love and means to create the ideal Christian community. The case of poverty is clearest. It is true that we can find numerous passages in the sources we have been con-sidering in which the abandonment of material posses-sions appears as a renunciation--a giving up--of material goods. It appears as a means to cast off "anxiety for the morrow" (Mt 6:24). It is presented as getting rid of one's goods preliminary to the following of Christ (Mt 19:21). But even in the case of the anchorites--for example, Anthony himself--disposing of one's goods usually takes the form of selling them to give the proceeds to the poor in accord with Jesus' counsel to the rich young man (Mr 19:21).27 Even more, after the initial renunciation, the cenobite's possession of anything as his own is r~gularly exchtded by our sources as being opposed to a truly common life. Citations from Acts 2 and 4 freque.ntly serve to exclttde private possessions precisely as infidelity to full community of life. Many of the passages examined above will illustrate this if they are reexamined. Let us, instead, examine one other. St Augustine in his treatise on the Work of Monks indicates both renunciation and community as involved in monastic poverty.~s First, renunciation. He writes: Let us suppose a person is converted to this life from a life of luxury, and that he is afflicted with no physical infirmity.,Are we so incapable of understanding the sweetness of Christ that we do not know how great a swelling of deeply rooted pride is healed when, after the removal of the superfluities with ~See John Cassian, Conference 1, Chapter 6 (in Gibson, Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, 2nd series, v. I1, p. 297); Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae 2-2, q.186, a.7. ~rAthanasius, LiIe o] Anthony, Chapters 2 and 3, in Keenan, Early Christian Biographies, pp. 135-6. ~ Chapter 25, translated in Saint Augustine, Treatises on Various Subjects, trans. Sister Mary Sarah Muldowney (New York: Fathers of the Church, 1952), p. 377. which his spirit was fatally possessed, the humility of the worker does not refuse to perform lowly labors to obtain the few supplies which remain necessary for this natural life? Secondly, community. He continues: If, however, a person is converted to this life from poverty, let him not consider that he is doing merely what he used to do, if, turning from the love of increasing his own private fortune, however little, and no longer seeking what things are his own but rather those of Jesus' Christ, he has devoted him-self to the charity of common life, intending to live in com-panionship with those who have one heart and one soul in God, so that no one calls anything his own but all things are held in common. Celibacy, of course, was practiced by Christians from the New Testament period itself. The motive St. Paul assigns for it in 1 Cor 7:35 is contemplative: to provide "undivided attention to the Lord." The motive Jesus as-signs in Mt 19:12: "for the sake of the kingdom of heaven" (which means "for the sake of the reign of God") can be considered apostolic: that is, celibacy to devote oneself wholly to the spread of God's reign by the preach-ing of the gospel. After all, injunctions to go out to pro-claim the kingdom without delaying even to bury one's father or to take leave of one's relatives occur in the Gospel (Lk 9:57-62; see Mt 8:19-22). Among the Pachomians, Theodore says: "Let us pre-serve the gift [a reference perhaps to the 'gift' of celibacy mentioned in 1 Cor 7:7 or possibly Mt 19:11] which has come to us beyond the deserts of our efforts. Let. us preserve the law [of the koin6nla], each one of us being a subject of edification for his neighbor." And a recent commentator remarks: The edification of one's neighbor--which means, immedi-ately, of one's brothers--is an essential element of the law on which the koin6nla rests. The realization of this law can-not be attained except when the bonds of purely natural love 'according to the flesh' have been broken and all the brothers bound together in a spiritual love. From this source come repeated regulations prescribing separation from one's family and controlling relations witl~ those who are related by blood.-~ Basil too--one more text will have to suffice--sees the renunciation of one's own family--and even more of a family of orie's own--aS a means to be "brother" equally to all members of the brotherhood. He writes: ÷ Superiors should not allow those who have been perma- ÷ nently admitted to the community to be distracted in any + way--by allowing them either to leave the company of their brethren and live in private on the pretext of visiting their Religious relatives or to be burdened with the responsibility of caring Community for their relatives according to the flesh. The Scripture abso-lutely forbids the words "mine" and "thine" to be uttered ~ Bacht, "Pakh6me,'" pp. 67-8. VOLUME 25, 1966 among the. brethren, saying: "And the multitude of believers had but one heart and ~ne soul; neither did anyone say that aught of the things which he possessed was his own." The par-ents or brothers of a membe; of the community, therefore, if they live piously should be treated by all the brethren as fathers or other relatives possessed in common: "For whosoever shall do the will of my Fathe~ that is in Heaven, he is my brother and sister and mother," says the Lord. In our opinion, moveover, the care of these persons would devolve upon the superiOr of the community.so + + + Thomas Barrosse, C.S.C. REVIEWFOR RELIGIOUS We may find this position somewhat extreme by our standards. The basic understanding of celibacy is what makes the text important to us at the moment, and that basic understanding is clear: the. foregoing of family re-lationships is .the means to effect a more perfect com-munity of life with a larger number of fervent Ghristians. Obedience is more difficult. The anchorite placed him-self under a master or teacher to be trained in overcoming self-will but especially to be educated to the ascetical life. Obedience was an asceticism or a disciple-master re-lationship. The' arrangement was voluntary. The leader-ship of communities was Charismatic: Pachomius' virtue explains the following he had, and after his death his community almost disintegrated more than once until his disciples could agree that the successor was equipped to guide them as Pachomius had been. For Basil, the role of the superior (or the superiors--since there can be several in one "brotherhood"---qq. 26 f.) is to direct and guide the individual "in everything." So too in Augustine (Letter 211). The superior, in short, appears as a sort of rnagister. 'Before thee introduction of stability, the monk could move to another community if he was not satisfied with the gu, idance he was given. When the community became fixed and the superior-ship more institutional, the situation changed somewhat. It~must be admitted that superiors were elected--presum-ably for their leadership qualities. But if the choice was limited to members of the community or other considera-tions Anfluenced the voting, obedience might possibly place a monk under a poor master, and remaining in-definitely under his authority would then be nothing more than ~an indefinitely prolonged asceticism. But perhaps we have missed an important aspect of the superior's role more implied than explicitly stated in our sources--that is, the position of the superior as the center of unity for the community. From the end of the very first Christian century we have a heavy emphasis on the head of the local Christian community, the bishop, as the foctts of the Church's unity, This seems to be the so Question 32, translated by Wagner in St. Basil, Ascetical Wor. ks, p. 295. meaning of Ignatius of Antioch's axiom: "Where the bishop is, there is the church." 81 We must reflect for a moment on this third and perhaps principal dimension of authority as a necessity for any and all community and of obedience as being first and directly the insertion of oneself into a community---or gift of oneself to a communitywand only secondarily and consequently the placing of oneself under a su-perior's authority. The extent of any superior's au-thority is determined by the nature of the community in which it is exercised. If the authority of superiors is so extensive in religious life, it is precisely because the gift we make of ourselves to the community is so extensive: we undertake the sharing of practically the whole of our lives with others--prayer, work, responsibilities, material goods, and so forth. How the authority is exercised--for example, by frequent peremptory commands or by dis-cussions in which a superior usually agrees with the con-sensus reached--is quite incidental to this aspect of re-ligious obedience (though it is less so, of course, to obedience as an asceticism). It might be pointed out parenthetically, however, that the way in which the highest (episcopal) authority was actually exercised in the patristic Church and the way Basil and Benedict speak of superiors exercising their attthority suggests a procedure closer to the second than to the first of these two extremes,a2 Looking ttpon obedience as being sub-stantially the gift of oneself to a community means look-ing upon it in a very ancient and traditional way and perceiving it as an influence over the individual religious in his whole community life, even when the superior actually intervenes only rarely. We have been all too brief in our consideration of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. But perhaps we have 21 See V. Corwin, St. Ignatius and Christianity in Antioch (New Haven: Yale, 1960), pp. 80-7, 192-8, 214, and 256-7. Ignatius phrases it slightly differently in his letter to the Smyrneans 8, 2. Why else is nothing to be done "apart from" the bishop and only that Eu-charist is to be considered valid over which he presides or someone named by him (Ad Smyrn. 8, 1)? He is certainly not thinking of a "power of orders" to confect sacraments or of a "power of jurisdic-tion" if we are to judge from the main thrust of his arguments. There is no church apart from the bishop because he is its "center of unity," to use the phrase Vatican II applies to him in its Decree on the Missionary Activity o~ the Church, n. 30 (just after urging all missionary workers to have but one heart and one soul in accord with Acts 4:32). Interestingly, the Rule of Taiz~ (Taiz~: Presses de Taiz~, 1965), p. 55, opens its treatment of the prior (which is its treatment of obedience) with a brief paragraph on the need for nnity; then it explains: "The prior focuses the u6ity of the commu-nity." ~See Y. Congar, "The Hierarchy as Service," in his Power and Poverty. in the Church (London: Chapman, 1964), pp. 15-79, espe-cially from p. 40 on. + ÷ ÷ Religi~s Community 98-3 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Ba~rosse, C.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 984 spent enough time on them to show that all the essential elements of canonical "religious life as we know it in the Church today can be conceived of just as the cenobitic life as a whole was at its origins: as part of the attempt to create an ideal Christian community on the model of that idyllic picture of the primitive Apostolic Church which St. Luke presents in the opening chapters of Acts. That the apostolates of the active communities can be fitted into this picture too should be clear from what we have seen of the openness to the needs of the Church of their times exhibited by the Basilian, Augustinian, and Benedictine communities. To show that this concept has not been lost between the origins and our own day, let us conclude with two texts. The Pontificale Romanum, dating substantially from the Middle Ages, contains a ceremony for the profession of an abbot--to be used before he is blessed in case a novice or someone not a member of the order in question should be elected. At the end of the Ceremony, the pre-siding bishop gives a short explanation of what he has done in accepting the profession: Although all of us through th~ grace of baptism are brothers in Christ and have one Father in heaven if, to the best of our ability, we do what he commands, without any doubt we are most closely united when we join ourselves to one another in ~common] prayer and mutual service just as we read the holy tathers in the primitive Church, who had but one heart anal one soul, did. Many of them, their hearts inflamed with the love of Christ, sold their posSessions and material belongings, gathered the proceeds together, and brought them in joy (o t~e Apostles. The Apostles took these proceeds and distributed them to all in accord with the needs of each. So it is that this man [newly professed], under God's inspiration and encouraged by their example, desires to be joined to the community of the religious of [this order]. We grant him
Issue 20.5 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; HENRI HOLSTEIN, S,J. The Mystery of Religious Life Religious life1¯ interests contemporary man; this in-terest, in fact, constitutes one of the curious, paradoxes of our times. However surprising and unexpected this may seem to be, our contemporaries' interest in religious life is shown by the success of the novelized memoirs of ex-religious, especially when they are .transposed to the film. Books about religious are a financial success; this is true even in the case of expensive publications like the recent volume of Mo_nsieurs Serrou and Vals on the Poor Clares;2 this volume, illustrated by remarkable photographs that give the reader a realization of the life of the religious, is a continuation of a series on various comtemplative orders of men and women. Mademoiselle Cita-Malard, who lived with the permission of the Holy See0within the cloister of most of the important orders of women and who is able to make them known in an intelligent and respectful fashion, has published a brief, well-written volume to in-troduce French readers to "a million religious women."a And on. the stage in Paris, Monsieur Di~go Fabri presents the Jesuits4 to an audience which from all appearances:is deeply attentive and thoughtful; by means of a somewhat flamboyant plot which the playwright has imagined on the frontiers of that part of the world cut off by the iron cur-tain, the problem of the contemporary apostolate is placed'~ What is the source of this interest and curiosity which in general is sympathetic even if it is aroused by anecdotal or vestimentary details rather than by what is essential 1 This article was originally a conference given at the University of Louvain as the conclusion of a series of lectures on religious life. !t is reprinted with permission from Revue des communautds re-ligieuses, v. 33 (1961), pp. 65-~9. * Les Clarisses: les pauvres dames de sainte Glaire d'Assise. Paris: Horay, 19fi0. ~ Un million de religieuses. Paris: Fayard, 1960. ¯ A critical review of this drama was given by P. L. Barjon, S.J. in Etudes, February, 1961, pp. 251-57. ' "4. ,4. "4. Henri Holstein, s.J., teaches theology at the Institut Catholiqu, e in Paris. '~ ~' VOLUME 20, 1961 317 Henri Holstein, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 318 to religious life? I believe the reason is that religious poses a problem for modern man; in its own way religious life is a sign of contradiction which ~ angers, shocks, and at times arouses iriescapable questions. If one reflects and considers the matter, religious life by its an.d by its numbeis is a social fact to which modern man can not remaiff~ indifferent, desacralizedas he and living in a paganized atmosphere. This has been stated by Mademoiselle Cita-Malard when she writes religious women, the number of whom she estimates to a million: Is it not a paradox that out of two and half billion human beings and out of about five hundred million Catholics, million women have renounced forever--and in most cases even before personal experienc.e in the matter--the pleasures and the servitudes of the flesh and that they have stripped them-selves of everything, even their own will, either to follow publicly the strict and minute obligations which impose COmmon life on them or to free themselves for a more or !hidden apostolate in their milieu and prof~ssi0n, an apostolate which makes of their life an Oblation without reserve? What have pledged themselves to is directly opposed to the liberties claimed by Ouroindependent, self, centeoroed, sensual age? To this situation, so loudly underscored by:t_he indiscrete means of communication of our era, only we canbring answer by our life and our witness. Doubtless, this Witness will come from religious themselves, for, eveh if people do'not admit it to us, they nevertheless watch u~; si'nce dress and our way of life attract their attention; but witness will come especially from Catholics who Should able to explain to any man of good will what religious in the Catholic Church means. Accordingly; I hope present to y6u what, you already know in a kind of theo-logical synthesis and to give you in ~a simple way :the stitutive essentials of the religious life. Of the two partsof.this conference, the first will attempt [o show religious life as the fullness of baptism; the second will emphasize the .nature 6[ the witness given in and the Church by the religious who is a witness of heaven w~ll as a witness of the love of Jesus Christ for all men, brethren. Religious Life the Fullness~ of Baptism "Religious life," canon 1law tells us, "is a s~able c~o~mmunity way of ili[e in ~hich the faithful besides precepts common to all propose to observe as wello th evangelical counsels, through the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty" (c. 487). ~ Un million de religieuses, pp. 6-7. ~ In constitutions ~nd, vow formulas the,order is usually reversed "poverty, chastity, and obedience." Was not the purpose of th legislator, however, to show here the p~eeminence of the vow o obedience as mentioned in the well-known text of John XXIII o this matter? ~ In analyzing the obligations of religious life, this legal text first mentions the precepts common'to all Christians to which, it is evident, religious are also bound. It then adds .that besides these religious take on the observance of the evangelical counsels, obligating themselves to these by the observance of the required vows lived out not in isolation but--as far as there is question of religious life in the proper sense of the term--in a stable and commun-ity life. This description might seem to say that religious life claims of those who profess it something more than the Church demands of "ordinary Christians/' This, however, would .not be completely exact. Our Lord's command to be perfect as the heavenly Father holds for al.1, and the exigencies of baptism are the same for all the faithful. But the religious, in responding to a call that comes from our Lord and is acknowledged as such by. the Church when she admits to the vows of religion, intends to live this baptismal perfection in aradical way that by a definitive and irrevocable intention suppresses, the obstacles that might hinder or retard his fervor. "Every Christian," Pius XII said, "is invited to strive with all his powers for the ideal of Christian perfection; but it is realized .in a more complete and.sure way in. the states of perfectton. In religious life there is no question of a Christian ideal 3f life other than that~imposed on every baptized person; it is rather a matter of a complete and total effort to live 3ut in an authentic way the life begun by baptism. The .ame program of perfection is proposed to all; the Gospel s directed to all Christians; religious know no other code of perfection. The originality of religious consists in the ~doption'of radical means which permit them to give full ealization to their baptism; this is done in a prescribed ¯nd organic way within an institute or religious family :pproved by theChurch. In response to a call of our Lord, ,there takes place, at he beginning and origin of religious life a consecration vhich is complete and irrevocable for the heart which hakes it even before the person's lips are authorized to ormulate it publicly before the Church. This consecra-ion, which has .all the fervor and generosity of those -spousals with our Lord of which S~t. Paul speaks, is a lear-sighted and exacting renewal of baptismal-consecra-ion. .~ The life of every Christian is a consecrated one, since n ineradicable character marks it with the baptismal par-icipation in the death and resurrection" of Christ. Every ,aptized person is conformed to Christ; that is, he is T Discourse of December 9, 1957. Acta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 50 ~958), p. 36. 4. 4. ÷ Religious 319 4. 4. 4. Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 320 regenerated to His likeness, is a member of His Body, and in Him is an adopted son of the Father, Religious profession is not a second baptism: there can be no such thing, but only renewals, more or less fervent, of the baptismal promises. Religious profession--and this is its grandeur and its seriousness---is a decisive act which binds the one who makes it to the obligation of a strict living out of his baptism by forbidding to him everything which could be opposed to the life of the new man. The negative aspects of religious life--separation, re-nouncement, despoiling--which are the first things to capture the attention of the general public as well as of relatives who are present at an investiture or a profession, are nothing else than the execution of this program of radi-cal renouncement which baptism implies. "We are dead with Christ . " says St. Paul. "Regard yourselves as dead to sin and living for God in Christ Jesus. Let sin rule no longer in your mortal body . " (Rom 6:8-12). The demands of baptism are understood by the religious with a total fullness. If it is necessary to renounce sin, then it is necessary to separate oneself from all the occasions of sin, from everything which would be capable of attaching us to a master other than Christ, from-that world for which Christ refused to pray. To renounce sin, says St. Paul, is to refuse to submit to lust. Accordingly, the re-ligious renounces those earthly lusts which are represented by money, by the body, and by self-will; he separates him-self from these by his vows of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence which in their very austerity represent for him a welcome liberation. In this there is no unconscious self-pity or masochism'. There is only the liberating conclusion of a logic which dares to take literally and without gloss or casuistry the abrupt words of the Gospel. Ever since an Anthony left his town and his family to bury himself in the desert when he heard read in church the gospel passage, "Go, sell what you own," and ever since a Francis of Assisi despoiled himself of all he possessed and returned it all--even :his clothing--to his father, religious life has known the joyous liberty of understanding our Lord literally and ol leaving all to follow Him. This would ,be a childishly imprudent act were it not dictated by a total confidence in the promise of our Lord "The folly of youth," say the wise, when they hear of young men and young women who joyfully put themselves withir the cloister or who bring themselves to enclose their whoh lives within the barriers of obedience and chastity, But i is.not the folly of youth; it is the folly of God who is wise than the wisdom of the prudent, For it is not s~lf-con fidence which brings a person to religious life; and if on should enter in a burst of enthusiasm, the long month of the novitiate would suffice to extinguish it. What leads one to religion is a humble confidence in our Lord who calls, a confidence that is capable of checking an under-standable apprehension and even at times a fear bordering on panic. Like St. Peter, the r~ligi6us makes up'his mind to let down the net only at the word of Jesus. And when the inevitable illusions of the first fervor have yielded place to that maturity of religious life which has been described so profoundly and accurately by Father Voillaume in his recent Lettres aux [raternitds of the Little Brothers of Jesus, then there appears in all its naked grace the power of hope to sustain the religious. More than in his early days, he realizes that what he proposes is humanly senseless; but he also realizes that the power of our Lord sustains him day after day and that it allows him to ad-vance up the steep road which he has chosen. Those who come to us, St. Ignatius of Loyola used to say to his first companions, must pray over it for a long time so that "the Spirit who urges them may also give them the grace of hoping to be able to carry the weight of their vocation with His aid.''s But religious life must not be defined by its negative characteristics, as though a religious placed his. happiness in the restrictions of strict cloister and of stifling prohibi-tions. The truth about religious life--and unfortunately this was left in the shadows in thememoirs of Sister Luke --is that it is the road on which one accompanies Christ as closely as possible; it is the means of imitating and fol-lowing Him as loyally as human weakness permits. If he avoids the sources of earthly desires, the religious knows very well that this is done only to remove the obstacles which spring up between him and Christ. "Whoever wishes to be my disciple," said Christ, "must renounce himself, take up his cross, and follow me." It is not a case of the cross for the sake of the cross nor of suffering for the sake of suffering; it is for the sake of being with Jesus. As Charles de Foucauld wrote in his notes: I can not conceive of a love for Christ] without an overwhelm-ing craving for likeness; for resemblance, and above all for a share in the pains, difficulties, and hardships of life . To be rich, comfortable, living contentedly with my possessions when You Were poor, uncomfortable, living a painful life of hard labor for me . I can not love You in such a way. The separation and the renouncements of religious life which each day accomplish in the religious the "death with Christ" of his baptism are considered by him as so many means of resurrecting with Christ. Better still, his vows appear to him as the attitudes of a person already resurrected. s In Christus, v. 7 (1960), p. 250. 4. 4- 4. Religious Li]e VOLUME 20, 1961 321 Henri Holstein, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS For religious life is not a life of dying, it is a resurrected life. The Lord who is followed is not only the poor work-man of Nazareth and the crucified one of Golgotha, He is also the Lord of glory who appeared on the radiant morn-ing of Easter. And the One to whom virgins give them-selves on the morning of their profession and whom they choose as their Spouse is not only the agonizing Christ of Gethsemane but is as well the Lamb in the paschal splen-dor of His triumph. Already they belong to the procession of virgins who follow the Lamb wherever He goes; their virginal promise is the beginning of the eternal espousals which the Lamb intends to anticipate with them here on earth. By virginity, Christ becomes the only Spouse of their heart. At first view, the vow of chastity is a refusal. Its ef-fect seems to be that of a total renouncement--renounce-ment of the senses, renouncement of affection, renounce-ment of a family. It demands that one leave his family and it forbids all hope of ever founding a family. In reality, however, the vow of chastity is an assuming of a total and exclusive belonging to our Lord. The religious who as-sumes it refuses all idea of a partial belonging; thereby he expresses his desire for that total consecration which re-ligious life realizes as the fullness of baptism. This is the behavior of the new man for whom nothing of the old man, nothing of the partial, nothing of the worldly can make sense. Furthermore, chastity gives its meaning to .the vows of poverty and obedience which in turn give to it their own dimension not of repression, but of a complete spiritual expansion in a total love. For poverty is not the sad ac-ceptance of small privations and of petty dependence; it is the gesture of confidence by one who is no longer anx-ious about those things which the heavenly Father knows we have need of: Moreover, poverty is a refusal to be weighed down by the things of earth and by the cares which afflict those who possess things, making them always fearful of losing or decreasing their precious little treas-ures. The religious knows of another treasure: the love of our Lord which leaves him no time to be occupied in the acquiring of riches, the manipulation of capital, and the preserving of property. Poverty is the testimony of the love given to the divine Spouse by one who has chosen Him in an undivided way. Not~only does the religious place his confidence in Him with regard to his temporal life, he also detaches himself from every self-anxiety and from the monopolizing desire for possessions, d6ing this in order that he might give himself wholly to the Spouse of his soul. Chastity, which is the choosing of our Lord alone,~and poverty, which refuses to allow a person to be monop- lized by any selfish interest, mutually complement each ther. And by the conjunction of these two, obedience re-eives all its meaning. Obedience can easilyJappea~, to be n infantile submission; actually in the eyes of faith it is preferring of the will of God. Defined in the negative 2rms of renouncement of .initiative and independence~ bedience is a caricature that is ridiculous and hateful. It as value only so far as it is an ardent search for the good ,leasure of the One who is loved. Christ Himself said that Iis food was to do the will of His Father. Accordingly, the eligious has only one nourishment: the will of our Lord ;hich is the will of the Father who is the only guide of the ctivity of the only begotten Son: "I always do whatever s pleasing to him." The superior, this brother or this sister who commands ,le, is important for me only because he represents Christ. The abbot," says St. Benedict, "takes the place of Christ." t is Christ whom through faith I hear and see in _my uperior. The man does not interest me, even though he ,e a saint, a genius, or a dear friend. It is Christ who is the ,bject of my obedience; it is to Him that I render my .omage in performing what is commanded me in His ,ame. There is good reason for saying that "obedience is n attitude of faith and love only if it is chaste; that is, if t is inspired.by the exclusive love o,f 9ur Lord." Otherwise t becomes degraded and turns into an interested con- 9rmism or into an Unacceptable infantilism. In religious life, all the elements are consistent with.~ach .ther; chastity, which is an espousal and a consecration ~ Christ, gives its own characteristic mark to a life that is ,oor and dependent through obedience; for these two ows, if they are to be genuine in both great and little hings, imply an exclusive choice of Christ as the only pouse of one's soul. This is why there must be a question here of ~vows, of tatutory promises which oblige one's whole life, thereby arpassing the unstable impulse of a moment of fervor. ¯ ove demands definitive commitments, it engages the ,hole life, it gives assurance for the future. All this which among men is often only an illusion 'hich the future may soon contradict unless the love is ~oted in prayer and nourished by recollection is made ossible for the re.ligious by his original and constantly 2newed confidence in the grace of Him who has called. The religious vow is the instrument of that consecra-on which realizes the baptismal consecration in all the lentitude 9f its demands. If at first view it appears as an ll-out effort to excludeand eradicate the obstacles which re opposed to the perfection of baptismal life, neverthe-ss the religious vow signifies the total consecration of ÷ + ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 20, 196]. Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 324 one's whole life to our Lord. It is included in the initia "consecration" which Christ made when He came into world: "I have come, O Father, to do thy will1" The Ser vant has no other intention than that of accomplishing work for which He was sent into the world; for tliat reasor His sole occupation will be to do the will of the Father In line with this consecration of our Lord and in ticipation of this "intention" of the Incarnate Word, religious places himself in the hands of God. As Fathe Bergh has said: The vow is the expression of a positive consecration to divim love. God loved above everything; there in short is the mean ing of religious life . Its program should not be enunciatec precisely in the abstract terms of poverty, chastity, and obedi ence, but rather under the concrete form 0[ a loving imitatior of Christ poor, chaste, and obedient, of Christ the Servant of th~ Father and of men? Religious Life a Witness in the Church Up to this point we have looked at religious life onl, from the viewpoint of a personal relation that unites to our Lord, Now, however, it is necessary to consider in the Church. To do this, we shall consider two points First, the significance of religious life in relation Church and second, the testimony ~to the Church whirl religious life gives to the world. What then does religious life signify in relation to Church?~In other words, why does the Church, withou whose consent there could not be ~ community or an stitute professing the life of the counsels, recognize amon[ her baptized children the existence of groups which order to live out their baptismal life in a more radical oblige themselves publicly to the observance of poverty chastity, and obedience? It seems to me that by the ligious life the Church expresses her own proper mystery The purpose of religious life is to concretize and to realization to the mystery of the bride who is without In the admirable fifth chapter of the Letter to Ephesians, St. Paul presents the Church as the bride whon Christ has chosen for Himself. In order to make her hol~ and to "present to himself the Church in all her glory, having spot or wrinkle," He delivered Himself for Being submitted to Christ, the Churcti has for Him deference and respect, the discreet and fervent love whicl the Bible constantly presents as the expression of the sponse of the creature to his Creator. This is a virgina union which is consummated in those "nuptials of Lamb" to which the angel invited the seer of the Apoc~ lypse: "Come, I will show you the spouse of the Lamb., "And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming dow, ~ In Revue diocesaine de Tournai, v. 15 (1960), p. 18. tom out of heaven from God, made ready as a young bride :dorned for her husband" (Ap 21:9,2), The holy bride has lo gifts other than those .given ~her by her Spouse--the :lorious heritage which He acquired by His Blood; could he, then, have any other desire thafi to follow her Spouse :nd to accomplish His entire will: "The Church," says ¯ aint Paul, "submits to Christ" (Eph 5:24)? ~ If all Christian living manifests in its own way the nystery of the Church, is it not fitting that certain ones hould have the particular duty:of manifesting the mystery ,f the virginal bride in its complete authenticity? These :re those who among all the redeemed have the singular ,rivilege of following the .Lamb wherever He goes; for 'they are virgins." Theirs is an absolute and undivided ove which blossoms in holy poverty and lov!ng obedience; t is the mystery of the Church and her consecrated ones. Through religious life the Church manifests her own ~roper mystery to herself and to the world.-This is why eligious life is so dear to her; it is the reason why through he voices of her leaders, especially the recent Popes, she ~ever ceases to increase her efforts to maintain the cor-ectness of religious life in its striving for sanctity: Holy Mother Church has always Striven with solicitous ~are nd maternal affection for the children of her predilection who ,ave given their whole lives to Christ in order to follow Him reely on the arduous path of the counsels that she might onstantly render them worthy of their heavenly resolve and ngelic vocation?° Religious, by reason of the vocation which surpasses hem and which they know themselves unworthy of, are an ntimate witness to the Church herself; at the same time hey are a witness of the Church to all those who see them ive. Nourished in the Church and directed by her, they ,ear witness to her and show forth that the Church in its nmost reality is truly the bride whom Christ has chosen or Himself. First of all, religious give testimony to the sense of God. )ur modern world has lost this to the extent, that even qany Christians do not understand the contemplative ire; their attitude is a questioning one: "Of what use is t?" To this I would answer that to judge religious life by ts relation to human utility is to condemn oneself to fisunderstand it. I readily maintain the paradox that eligious life is not justified by its usefulness for men but ,y its value in the sight of God. In its primary meaning it ppears useless to the city of man, for the precise reason hat it exists in its entirety for God. Speaking o[ contemplation, Mademoiselle Ceta-Millard uotes the phrase of Joan of Arc, "God the first to be _'rved." I would be tempted to einphasize this even more ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 114. 4- 4- 4- Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 325 Henri Holstein, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS by saying,, "God the 0nly one to be servedl" This is wh there are in the Church contemplative orders, monasterie of prayer--Carmelites, Poor Clares, Carthusians, Tral~ pists. Their proper witness is to recall to men the im portance of prayer, the urgency of penance, the necessit for adoration. But this same witness is also given by every genuin religious life. Under pain of an anemia'that would quickl become fatal, religious life must always include prayel It can exist and is able to flourish only by reason of spirit of prayer which animates every hour of the day, n matter how filled it may be with the care of the sick, th education of children, the help of the aged or the undel developed. In order to create a suitable climate, there added to prayer religious observance, the rule of silenc~ cloister. One may be tempted to smile at these or to b scandalized by them. Every tradition can manifest a tain rigidity; at times inevitable minutiae may make n ligious life a little out-of-date or unadapted to the time But these are simple human weaknesses which the Churc herself does not hesitate to remedy. To judge religiou tradition by such details is to give proof of pettiness c spirit. W.hat is at stake here and what justifies the ot servances of religious life is the need and the desire to s~ up a favorable climate for prayer. For religious life is a present heralding and'anticipatio of the eternal life to which we are destined by our ba[ tism. It shows forth that this present world is not the onl one, but that there exists a true city in comparison wit which the city of this world with its bustle and its.narro~ cares is vanity. This is the often emphasized eschatologic~ meaning of the vow of chastity: It is an anticipation of th life of heaven; on this earth where the body and sensualit count for so much, it represents "the life of the angels as lived by beings of flesh and blood. Turned toward th heavenly Jerusalem, religious already attempt to live th~ which will be their condition in heaven. "That which will all be," said St. ,~mbrose to the virgins of his tim, "you have already begun to be, Already in this world, yo possess the glory of the resurrection; you live in time, bt without the defilements of time, In persevering in chastit you are the equals of the angels of God." This eschatological witness must be extended to th entirety of religious life. As Father Giuliani writes: Being .a complete break with the world, religious life is witness gwen to the Kingdom of God. Through his life of po erty, chastity, and obedience, the religious makes apparent reality that is begun here below for all, but which will be vealed in its fullness only in the world of the resurrection. is poor in order to affirm that God constitutes the riches of elect in the city of the blessed; he is chaste in order to affirm th there will be no other nuptials other than that of God and H people; he is obedient in order to affirm that the liberty of the creature consists in submission to the full accomplishment, of the will of God. Thus it is that in the Church on earth the re-ligious is a witness to the Church of glory,a But at the same time and by a sort of paradox, religious life also manifests in the Church the charity of Christ who willed to share our condition. To present religious life only as an anticipation of heaven risks considering it as a comfortable evasion, a charge, often enough directed against it. Are religious dispensed from one of the two facets of the great commandment, the one .that commands love of neighb.or? God forbid, for. then they would no longer be Christians. Besides, one has only to recall the multiplication in the Church of charitable orders, insti-tutes, and congregations to reduce to nothing the objec-tion of laziness and flight made against religious life. Contrary to this objection, it can be shown that religious life in its essence is a life of devotion to the neighbor. Pope Pius XlI in the constitution Sponsa Christi has stated this without ambiguity: Since the perfection of Christian life consists especially in charity, and since it is really one and the same charity with which we must love God alone above all and all: men ir~ Him, Holy Mother Church demands of all nuns who canonicallyproo fess alife of'contemplation, together with aperfect love of God, also a perfect love of the neighbor; and for the sake of this charity and their state of life, religious men and women must devote themselves wholly to the needs of the Church and of all those who are in .want. If out of love for Christ a religious consecrates himself to only one thing, the following of Christ as closely as 'possible, then it becomes unthinkable that he should be disinterested in the work of redemption, the salvation of the world. The love of God, which is sovereignly jealous, is also sovereignly generous; this love desires the good, even the temporal good, of all men. The commandment of mutual love .is primary for all religious, and religious life gives testimony in the Church to the charity of God. The witness of religious, then, will be a witness of fra-ternal charity, Of a charity that is patient, inventive, char-acterized by the unfetterable impulses of missionary zeal, of pedagogical discoveries, of parental solicitude. Is there a single kind of suffering, of sickness, or of infirmity which religious life has not sought to care for in the course of history? The almost infinite variety of hospital and teach-ing congregations represent a sort of diffraction of charity towards the neighbor; it is touching to discover at the origin of a given institute the desire to take charge of a particular type of misfortune which seemed to the founder not to have received sufficient care. Although admittedly "In Etudes, June, 1957, p. 397. 4- 4- + Religious Liye VOLUME 20, 1961 327 Henri Holstein, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 328 it is often overly dispersed, such an attitude is a magnifi-cent and multiform witness given by religious life of a tireless and tirelessly inventive charity, renewed each day by prayer and union with Christ. This last characteristic must be emphasized. The apos-tolate and the devotion of religious draw their strength and their constancy from the consecration of their life to the Lord. It is ~his consecration that enables religious to be kind and sympathetic to the unfortunate and the afflicted. Likewise it is this consecration that makes it possible for a religious to interest himself in everything that is human, in science, in literature, in the arts. Did not our Lord who took on Himself every infirmity, also assume by His in-carnation every authentic human value? Conclusion This is the witness to the Church which is constantly given in silence and modesty by religious life. It does give witness for itself, but for the Church which has it, accepted it, encouraged it, and which does not cease to be interested in it. Moreover the religious does not give testimony for his own limited congregation, but the entire Church of Christ. Religious life manifests the magnificent fecundity of Church of which the Vatican Council speaks, in the fra-ternal diversity of vocations and spiritualities, religious life is a permanent sign of both the catholicity and unity of the Church. For on the magnificent path which our Lord calls all of them to follow, there is the same love of Christ, the same faithful adherence to the Gospel as the unique rule of their attitudes, the same charity welcoming every appeal of suffering, of education, of the apostolate. And all this takes place in the calm and serene joy those who, having given Up all for our Lord, know that even here below they have 'received the hundredfold. Who are better witnesses than religious of the joy the children of God and of the children of the Church? True, they do not have a monopoly of this, for they lay claim to nothing, not even the peace which radiates from. their faces. But the joy of their Lord which they always bear about with them--they know well that no one can take it from them. The joy of religious life is perhaps the most constant and the most efficacious trait of its witness. This is so pre-cisely because it manifests itself spontaneous~ly without being conscious of itself and without imposing itself upon those it meets. Julien Green relates that on a walk in the United States during the .war he visited a scholasticate of religious order. To the young man who was showing him through the large establishment, he would have liked ask a single question, a question more important to him han all the details of architecture and of theological programs that the young man was giving him. The .fiues-tion he wished to ask was one addressed to the young man personally, since he was a person.about whom some might think that his ardent youth had been enclosed within the ~ad walls of a seminary and the complicated prescriptions of a rule. The question was this: "Young man, are you happy here?" But, continues the diary of the novelist, I :lid not have the courage to ask the question. "For my guide had about him the radiant air of those who feel themselves loved by heaven.''12 ~ Julien Green, Journal, v. 4, p. 106. ÷ Religious Lile VOLUME 20, 1961 329 I~'; 'LEGRAND The Prophetical Meanin of Celibaq ÷ L. Legrand is on the faculty of St. Peter's Seminary, Bangalore, India. REVIEW FOR ~RELIGIOU~S 330 When Jephte's daughter realized that she had to in fulfilment of her father's vow, she withdrew mountains "to bewail her virginity" (Jg 11:37-40).significant that what she laments over is her virginity For hers.elf, her father, her companions, and those wh~ recorded that tradition, what made her fate so pitifu was not the fact that she had to leave the world in bloom of her youth: this is a romantic view which not belong to the stern biblical times. For the Israelite the pathos of her story lies in the fact that she will experience the joys of matrimony and motherhood. will die a virgin, and it is a curse, a disgrace similar the shame attached to sterility (see Lk 1:25). The prophet have a similar thought in mind when, in their lamenta tions, they give the chosen people the title of "Virgin Israel": "Listen to my lamentation, house of Israel!. has fallen, she shall not rise again, the Virgin of Israel." this text Amos (5:2; see J1 1:8; Lam 1 : 15; 2:13), by callin~ Israel a Virgin, wants to emphasize her misery: she will like a virgin, without leaving any descendants. It is like echo, at the collective level, of the laments of Jephte' daughter. These examples show clearly that according to the Semitic mentality, virginity is far from being an It is a fecund matrimony which is honorable and a of God's blessings (Ps 126). The same applies to men L. K6hler remarks that the Old Testament has no wore for bachelor, so unusual is the idea.~ Christ will change that attitude towards celibacy 19:12). But can we not find already in the Old Testamen a preparation and an anticipation of His teaching? Towards the end of the Old Testament period at leas some groups among the Essenes observed celibacy. This article is reprinted with permission from Scripture, Octobe 1960. pp. 97-105, and January, 1961, pp. 12-20. =Hebrew Man (Loudon: S.C.M., 1956), p. 89. fortunately the authors who mention it are very vague on the motives of that observance. Josephus (The Jewish ,,War, II, 8; 2) and Philo (quoted by Eusebius in Prepara-tion for the Gospel, VIII, 2; Patrologia Graeca, 21, 644 AB), putting themselves at the level of their pagan readers, reduce the celibacy of the Essenes to a misogyny entirely void of any religious value: "They beware of the impu-dence of women and are convinced that none of them can keep her faith to a single man," says Josephus. Pliny (Natural History, V, 17) describes the Essenes as philoso-phers, "tired of life" (vita fessos), who give up. the pleasures of love: Essenian celibacy would be of a Stoician type, but evidently Pliny's competency can be doubted when it comes to interpreting the motives of a Hebrew sect. The Qumran texts might have given us an explanation, but so far on this. question they have not been Very helpful. Though they know of a temporary continence on the occasion of the eschatological war,3 they do not impose .celibacy on the members of the community. On the con-trary, the prologue of the m~inual for the future congre-gation speaks explicitly of women and children,4 and the discovery of female skeletons in the cemetery of the com-munity5 makes it cl~ar that at Qumran as in the sect of DamascusS---if the two sects were distinct--matrimony was at least allowed. In short, a few groups among the Essenes present an interesting case of pre-Christian celi-bacy; the study of thai case might throw some light on the New Testament ideal of virginity, but such a study is impaired by the lack of reliable explanation of their mo-tives. And when we come across first,hand contemporary documentation, it happens that it concerns a sect which ~id not observe celibacy as a rule. ~qremiah, the First Celibate Fortunately the Old Testament presents a much more ancient and clearer case of celibacy: the case of Jeremiah, "a virgin prophet and a figure of the Great Phophet who too was a Virgin and the son of a Virgin.''7 Jeremiah was apparently the first biblical character to embrace celibacy as a state of life. At least he is the first one to whom Scripture attributes celibacy explicitly. Others before him may have abstained from marriage. Ancient Christian writers often suppose that Elijah did so3 and make of him s The War o[ the Children o! Light, VII, 3, 4. iSee Theodore Gaster, The Dead Sea Scriptures (Garden City: Doubleday, 1957), p. 307. 5 See Revue biblique, 63 (1956), pp. 569-72; 6 Document o[ Damascu.~', IV, 20-V, 6; VII, 6-8. 7 Bossuet, Mdditations sur l'dvangile, 109th day. SSee the texts in Elie le prophOte (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1956), V, 1, pp. 165 and'189. But St. Augustine was not convinced of the celibacy of Elias: De Genesi ad litteram, IX, 6. 4, The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 ,+ L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the father of monastic life. But the testimony of Scripture concerning Elijah is purely negative: no wife is mentioned, but the Bible does not speak of his celibacy either. Even if he remained a celibate, we have no indication as to the reasons that prompted him. Jeremiah, on the contrary, in his confessions speaks of his celibacy and explaim it. We may owe this insight on his private life to his intro-spective mood, another quality that was rare in ancient Israel. Anyway he provides us with the most ancient re-flection on celibacy. In it we can trace to its beginnings the biblical doctrine of virginity: The word of the Lord came to me saying: Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place. For thus says the Lord concerning the sons and daughters that are born here and concerning the mothers that bore them and concerning their fathers who begot them in this land: They shall die miserably, without being lamented, without being buried. . They shall be as dung upon the face of the earth. They shall perish by the sword and by famine. Their carcasses shall be a prey for the birds of the air and the wild animals (Jer 16:1-4). Those are the terms by which Jeremiah explains his .celibacy. Are those verses to be understood as a positive order of God, given to the prophet when he came of age and enjoining him to abstain from matrimony? It might be said that celibacy was progressively imposed upon the prophet by the circumstances, his isolation, and the per-secutions that made him an outcast. Eventually he would have understood that beneath those circumstances there was a divine ordinance and, with typical Hebrew disre-gard for secondary causes, he would have expressed it in the literary form of an order. In any case, it is clear that Jeremiah gives his celibacy a symbolical value. The loneliness of his unmarried life forebodes the desolation of Israel. Death is about to sweep over the country, Jere-miah's forlorn celibacy is nothing but an enacted proph-ecy of the imminent doom. Calamity will be such as to make meaningless matrimony and procreation. Jeremiah's celibacy is to be understood as a prophecy in action. Symbolical actions were frequent among the prophets. Thus to announce the imminent captivity of the Egyptians, Isaiah walks naked in the streets of Jeru-salem (Is 20:1-6). Jeremiah breaks a pot to symbolize the destruction of the capital (Jer 19:1-11). Ezekiel makes a plan of the siege to come, cooks impure food as the famished inhabitants of the besieged city will have to do, cuts his beard and scatters it to the four winds as the population of Judah will be scattered (Ez 4:1-5:4). In some cases it was the whole life of a prophet which was given by God a symbolical significance: for instance, Hosea's matrimonial misfortunes symbolized the unhapPy~ relations between Yahweh and His unfaithful spouse Israel (Hos 1:3). Jeremiah's life too was symbolical. He lived in times of distress. He was to be a witness of the destruction of Sion. It was his sad duty to announce~the imminent deso-lation: "Every time I have to utter the word, I must shout and proclaim: Violence and ruinsl" (Jet 20:8). Still more: it was his tragic destiny to anticipate in his existence and signify in his own life the terrible fate of. the "Virgin of Israel." "The Virgin of Israel" was soon to undergo the fate of Jephte's daughter, to die childless, to disappear with-out hope. With his prophetical insight, Jeremiah could see already the shadow of death spreading over the coun-try. He could hear already the moaning of th~ land: "Teach your daughter this lamentation: Death has climbed in at our windows; she has entered our palaces, destroyed the children in the street, the young men in the square. Corpses lie like dung all over the country" (Jet 9:20-21). This was 'no mere Oriental exaggeration. What Israel was about to witness and Jeremiah had to announce was really the death of Israel. Israel .,had been living by the covenant and now, by the sin of the people, the cove-nant had been broken. The two institutions in which the covenant was embodied and through which God's graces came down upon the people, the two great signs of God's indwelling in the land. of His choice, the temple and the kingship, would soon disappear. Only a few years more and Nabuchodonosor would invade Judah, burn the sanctuary, enslave the king and kill his children. For the Israelites this would be the end 6f the world, the day of the Lord, day of doom and darkness, day of i~eturn to the original chaos (Jer 4:23-31; 15:2-4). Ezekiel will explain in a dramatic way the meaning of the fall of Jerusalem: the Glory of God will leave His defiled abode and abandon the land (Ez 8:1-11:25). Israel will die and nothing short of a resurrection will bring her back to life (Ez 37:1-14). When the exiles leave Palestine, Rachel'can sing her dirge at Rama (Jer 31:15): her children are no more. Israel as a people has disappeared. God's people has been dispersed. There are no more heirs of the promises and ~children of the covenant unless God repeats the Exodus and creates a new people. A testament is over. God's plan has apparently failed. Death reigns. Prophetically Jeremiah sees all that beforehand. He experiences it proleptically in his flesh. Excluded from the Temple (Jer 36:5), excommunicated so to say from his village (Jer 11:8; 12:6; 11:19-23) and from the community (Jer 20:2; 36:25), he will experience before the exile what it means to live estranged from one's country, away 4. + The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Legran~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the Temple of the Lord. Before the Israelites he knows the bitter taste of a life which has no hope left on earth. "Never could I sit joyful in the company of those who were happy; forlorn I was under the power of thy hand for thou hadst filled me with wrath'~ (Jer 15:17). Thus was Jeremiah's life an anticipation of the im-minent doom. His celibacy too. When death :already casts her shadow over the land, is it a time to marry? "For thus says Yahweh Sabaoth, the God of Israel: Behold I will put an end, in this place, under your very eyes and in your very days, to the shouts of.gladness and of mirth, to the songs of the bride and of the bridegroom" (Jer ~16:9). An end of joy, life, marriage: the country turns into a sheol: there is no marriage and no begetting in the sheol. The command of the Lord to "increase and multiply" (Gen 1:28) assumed that the world was good (Gen 1:4, 10). But now 'that man's sin has aroused death, the Lord re-verses His command: "Do not take a wife; have no sons and no daughters in this place." Jeremiah's life of solitude announces the reign of death and anticipates the end of the world he lived in. His celibacy is in line with his message of doom. It is part of those trials by which "the most~suffering of the prophets," as St, Isidorus of Pelusia puts it;9 anticipates God's judgment. It is ~part of the sufferings which point to the cross, the final expression of God!s judgment. The solitude of the lonely prophet of Anatoth announces the dereliction-of the crucified vic-tim of Calvary. It has the same significance: it signifies the end of an economy in which God's promises and graces were entrusted to Israel according to the flesh and communicated by way of generation. This order dis-appears. When God will raise a new Israel, it will be an Israel according to the spirit .in which one will have access not by right of birth but by direct reception of the Spirit'(Jer 31:31-35). In such a people the fecundity of the flesh will have lost its value. The Negative Aspect of CelibacyI" "'On Account ol the Present Necessity" Replying to a question of the Corinthians concerning virgins, St. Paul's advice is to leave them" in that state: But,the explanation,he gives is not very clear; "I consider that it is better to be so on, account of the present neces-sity" (1 Cor 7:26). What is that "present necessity" that justifies celibacy? Catholic commentators (Cornely, Lemonnier, Allo, Cal-lan, W. Rees, Osty, and others) see in that "necessity;" as Osty puts it, "the thousand worries of married life,"x0 o In Patrologia graeca, 78, 356. ~ Epttres aux Corinthiens ~Bible de ]~rusalem) (Paris: Cerf, 1949), p. 40. or else the imminent persecutions "which'an unmarried person is better able to bear.''11 The standpoint of the Apostle would be purely individual, psychological or as-cetical. On him who is married the burden of the world is more heavy. The celibate, on the contrary, can devote himself fully to the service of God. ,~ Such a thought is certainly not foreign to St. Paul's mind: he expresses it in verses 39 to 35 of, the same chap-ter. Yet this does not seem to be for him a primary consider-ation. The immediate explanation he gives of his pref-erence for celibacy follows another line: "The time is short . The world in its present form is passing away" (vv 99- 31). This shows that his outlook is mainly collective and eschatological: the end of the world is~'drawing near: let us adapt our attitude to these new circumstances; it istime to detach ourselves from a ~d0omed world. "Even those who have a wife, let themlive as if they had none., and those who have to deal with the world as if they had not." Individual considerations are only an application,,of this iiew on the divine economy. It is because the'times we re' living in are the times of the end that it is better not to be burdened with matrimonial obligations, so as to be able to give one's undivided attention to God. The vocabulary used by St. Paul in this section confirms this ~schatological interpretation of his views on cdibacy. The words he uses clearly belong to the vocabulary of apocalyptic literature. The "necess.ity" (andgk~) .whs the technical term used to describe the crisis of the last times (Lk 21:23; 1 The~ 3:7; Ps.Sal,,5:8; Test jos,,2~.4.);.,in th~t sense it is akin to "tribulation (thlipsis) used l~e.re also to describe the present condition (v 98) a.nd which has also an apocalyptic value (Mt 25: 9-28; Ap 1.: 9~; 7:14; 2 Thes ! : 6), Similarly the term used for "time" in verse 29 (ttairos) 'is about a technical term for the period before the Ad-- vent''12 (see Rom 13:11; Heb 9:9; 1 Pet 1:5, 11). It is true that these terms are not always taken in their technical eschatological sense. But their convergence and the con-text make it clear that St. Paul sets virginity against an eschatological background. With Jeremiah he considers celibacy as a testimony that the last times have come, an attitude that presages the end. The difficulty of this interpretation--an.d what makes Catholic commentators to shrink from it--is that it seems to suppose in St. Paul the erroneous belief that the end bf the world was imminent. Can we 'accept such an ex-n W. Rees in Catholic Commentary on Holy Scripture (Edin-burgh: Nelson, 1953), p. 1090. ~ A. Robertson andA. Plummer, First Epistle o[ St. Paul. (Edin-burgh: T. and T. Clark, 1911), p. 152 . ÷ ÷ ÷ The Mean~ing Celibacy VOLUME 20, 1961 L. Le~and REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 336 planation of celibacy without rallying to the consequent eschatology of A. Schweitzer?xa Prat, followed by Huby and Spicq, does not think the objection decisive. He accepts as possible the eschatologi-cal explanation of virginity. Quoting I Corinthians 7:26- 31, he explains: "Is it possible that Paul was haunted by the near prospect of the Parousia? We must not deny this a priori . Lacking certain knowledge, he might have formed an opinion based upon probabilities and con-jectures . It is at least possible that he guided his con-duct and his counsels by such probabilities.TM This inter-pretation can be defended, provided we attribute to Paul not a positive teaching concerning the imminence of an event, the day and hour of which none can know, but an opinion, a desire, a hope without certitude,x~ This is surely sufficient to safeguard biblical inerrancy and remain within the limits fixed by the Biblical Commission, Yet this exegesis is not fully satisfactory, for it leaves the im-pression that the eschatologic~il explanation~of celibacy should not be taken too seriously. It would be one of those views that reflect more the prejudices of the time than the Apostle's personal thought, like the arguments bY which Paul tries to justify the imposition of the veil-on women in the assembly (1 Cot 11:2-16) or the midrashic allusion to the rock following the Jews in the deser~t (1 Cor 10:4) Thus St. Paul would have used the naive expectation of an imminent Parousia to insist on virginity, but that would be a mer_e argumentum ad hominem that should not be pressed too "much. The real and solid ground fo~ celibacy would remain the personal and ascetical con-siderations sketched in verses 32 to 34. Accepting Prat's eschatological interpretation of Paul's arguments for virginity, it may be possible to go deeper b) comparing the thought of the Apostle with that of Jere-miah. Is not the "present necessity" of 1 Corinthians 7:26 parallel with the explanation Jeremiah .gave of his celi-bacy? If so, can we not find in Paul~s eschatological justifi. cation of virginity a lasting value, something much deeper than a pious illusion? It all amounts to a proper evaluation of his eschatolog~- cal hope. Was it a delusion which he had, but which he avoided expressing firmly? Or was it on the contrary a 18 See the decree of the Biblical Commission of June 18, 1915 in Enchiridion Biblicum, 2nd ed. (Naples: D'Auria, 1954),'nn. 419--21. a, The Theology o[ St. Paul (London: Burns, Oates, and Wash bourne, 1926), V. 1, p. 112. Prat explained his mind still more clear!} in a few pages of his final chapter on "The Last Things" which h~ suppressed to satisfy an over-zealous censor. These pages have been published in Prat's biography I~y J. Cal~s, p. 99. a~j. Huby, Ep~tres aux Corinthiens (Paris: Beauchesne, 19.46); W Rees also (op. cir.) accepts an eschatological influence on St. Paul't thought on virginity. central element of his faith and of his spiritual outlook? O. Cullmann, for the early Church in general, and L. Cerfaux, for St. Paul in particular, have shown that is the second view which is true. There is much ~ore than a question of knowing whethei~ Paul or the early Church ex-pected or not an imminent Parousia. For them and for us, the heart of the matter is not the date of the Par0usia but its significance. In Cullmann's terms, what is the connec-tion of the present period of history (the times of the Church) with the past (death and resurrection of Christ) and the future (final resurrection)~1~ The problem is not chronological but theological. St. Paul may or may not have been under the impression that Christ was to return soon. This is rather °immaterial and irrelevant. What matters is that, for him, and for the early Christians, ours are the last days (Acts 2:16 if). The last hour has begun with the death of the Lord (1 Jn 2:18), How long will it be? Nobody knows, but it is clear that now, in Christ, history has reached its end and what we wimess now in the world is the consummation of the end: "The world goes disappearing" (1 Jn 2:i7). The Apocalyp~ses of St. John and of the synoptic Gospels show in a veiled language that the trials the Church has to undergo are the fore-running signs of the consummation, and St. Paul explains that the individual tribulations of the Christians are their share of the Messianic woes (Cor 1:24).xr The present period may be short or long: after all, "with the Lord, one day ,is as a thousand years and a thousand years as one day" (2 Pet 3:8). In any case, Chris-tian life is thoroughly eschatological in character. What-ever may be the actual date of the Parousia, we live after the end of history has been reached. We are just waiting for the consummation of the end, we turn towards it and we prepare it. Parous.ia hangs so to say over our life: even if chronologically it may be still distant, it is theologically imminent: it is the only development of the history of salvation that we can expect, and it gives its color to our outlook on things. Seen in the light of faith, the history we live in and our personal fate appear as signs of the end. Celibacy is one of those signs: it shows that the last times have come. It proclaims that the world is disap-pearing. The end has come. Man's primary duty is no more to continue the human species. It is on the contrary to free himself from a fleeting world which has already 10 O. Cullmann, Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950), 17 In Col 1:24 "tribulationes Christi" should be translated "the messianic woes" and not "the sufferings ot Christ" (it is thlipsis and not path~ma). The phrase does not refer to the sufferings of our Lord but, according to a terminology common in Judaism, to the trials God's people had to undergo to reach the messianic times, the birth pangs of the new world. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celiba~'~ VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR REI.IG]OUS lost its substance. This is not an attitude of panic before a threa, tening disaster. It is rather an act of faith in the significance of the Lord's death, beginning of the end. Thus Paul understood virginity exactly as Jeremiah. Jeremiah did not know the date of the destruction of Jerusalem: it is not the role nor the charisma of the prophets to give a chronology of the future. But'one thing he knew for certain: on account of the infidelity of the people, the former covenant had become void. Conse-quently the old institutions like the Temple and the kingship would break like empty shells and Israe!, aban-doned by God, would collapse. H~ knew that his was a time of death. The nuptial songs 'would be replaced by lamentations. Marriage and procreation had lost their meaning. The prophet showed it by his own life: his celibacy was an enacted lamentation. Similarly, St. Paul did not know the date of the end. But he knew for certain that the world had condemned it-self by condemning Christ and that the worldly powers had been nailed down on the cross. It was God's plan to leave some interval before the actual end of all, time to: allow the mystery of iniquity to reach its climax and the Church to spread all over the w~rld. During that time life was to continue and marriage was still legitimate. Yet even married people had to understand that they were no longer of the world they were in. Still using the world, they had to be detached from it. Even in marriage they had to bring an attitude of freedom, a tension towards a higher form of love, the love of Christ 'towards His bride the Church (see Eph 5:25-33). And itis quite fitting that to remind men of the freedom they should keep towards a fleeting world there should be, in the Church, a special charisma (1 Cor 7".'7) of virginity, akin to the charisma of prophecy. The celibate's life is an enacted prophecy. His whole life shouts to the world that it is passing away. As Jeremiah announced to the Chosen People the end of the old covenant, the celibate, new Jeremiah, announces the end of the old world. He embodies the teachings of th~ Apocalypses. He stands as a witness of the day bf the Lord, the day of wrath and of death which began qn that Friday of Nisan when the'Lamb was slaughtered Mount Calvary. + The Positive Aspect ot Celibacy: "'On Account ot the + Kingdom of Heaven'" + What has been said so far has shown that, according to the Bible, and according to Jeremiah and St. Paul es-pecially, celibate life is a prophecy in action, a forebodiiag of the end, a public proclamatioh of the fleeting character of this world. It goes without saying that this is only one aspect of the mystery. There is another one. The last days are not only days of doom: they are also days of resurrection. Jeremiah was not only the prophet of the fall of Jerusalem: he was also the prophet of the .new covenant (Jet 31:31= 35). Similarly for St. Paul the last days are only~secondarily days of woe: primarily, they are the days of the Par0usia~ when Christ will come and hand over to °the Father the world revivified by the Spirit (1 Cor 15). The Apocalypse~ ends its enumeration of th~ eschatological calamities~by the resplendent description~of the~heavenly ~Jerusalem° where everything is niade new (Ap 21). Christ's death:on Calvary was only the beginning of his exaltation 1~-15; 12:32-33). The full, prophetical meaning of virgin-ity is to be understood ifi reference td the whole mystery of death and life contained in Christ. Celibacy is 'not only an enacted prophecy of~th~ imminent doom: it announces also and anticipates the life to come, "the life of the new world in the Spirit. ~ ~ Jeremiah, who.had announced the new covenant, might' have understood that virginity would be the typical state~ in that new life which was.nol6nger to be granted bythe power of the flesh but by the Spirit. But in fact he does not seem to have realized these implications of~his prophetical' teaching. Or if he did, he had no occasion to express it. We have to come to the Gospels to find' this doctrine ex-pounded. ~ ¯ Jesus lived a celibate life. We~can not say that hlscase was unique. By the beginnings of the Christian era, the~ ideal of virginity seems to have been cultivated at least in some restricted circles of Judaism. We.have seen the rather~ mysterious case of the. Essenes. John~the Baptist also must tiave observed celibacy. This movement might explain the pu~rpose of virginity expressed by Mary in Luke 1:34. Jesus assumed that ideal and. by His very life fulfilled the la'tent aspirations it contained. Yet there is very little in the Gospels about virginity. This is not surprising. The Gospels are only factual: sum-maries. There is little in themfor introspection and self-~ analysis. They have,little to say. about Jesus' personal life. They do not tell us how he felt when praying;when work-ing miracles, when undergoing-the trials o~ His 'Passion. It is no wonder,., therefore, ~that they would be ~almost completely silent concerning Jesus' celibacy. This silence gives more value to the one statement of the Gospels in which Christ explained howh'e understood His virginity. It was on an occasion in which he had emphasized once more the law of~ indissolubility o[ matrimony. The dis-as See R. Laurentin, Structure et thdologie de Luc I-H iPa.ris: Gabalda, 1957). The Meaning Celibacy VOLUMEo20~. 1961 ,~ , 339 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ciples could hardly understand the intransigence of the Master. As usual, Jesus tried to bring light to the discus-sion by taking it to a.higher level. The heart of the matter is not the convenience of men but the requirements of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God does make exact-ing demands upon its members. See the case of those to whom it has been given to realize fully the implications of the coming of the Kingdom: they can be compared to eunuchsl "There are eunuchs who were born so from their mother's womb; and ttiere are eunuchs who were made so by men; and there are eunuchs who have made themselves so in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" (Mt 19:12). Though this pericope appears in Matthew 0niT, there is no reason to deny its authenticity, In his book on the synoptic Gospels, L. Vaganay insists several times that Matthew 19:10-12, along,, with several other passages, though appearing in one Gospel only, belongs to the oldest layer of the Gospel formation,~ .and to the most ancient tradition common to the three Synoptic Gospels.19 If the text figures in Matthew only, it is not because it was added afterwards to the~ final edition of Matthew: it is not a case of addition by Matthew but of omission by Marie and Luke. The pericope on the eunuchs has an archaic ring that would, have been shocking to Gentile ears. It is the kind of coarse Semitic paradox, frequent in the Bible, quite appealing to the rough peasants of Pal-estine accustomed to the loud and often brutal eloquence. 6f the prophets. It could hardly be exported to Greece or. even to Asia Minor, Syria., or Egypt. It is not surprising that Mark and Luke preferred to drop it. Yet "its very paradoxical aspect guarantees its authenticity.''20 More-over, the parallel text of Mark seems to leave traces of the amputation. In Mark 10:10, after the discussion with the Pharisees on matrimony, Jesus returns home together' with His disciples. There is a change of place and of audi-ence: Jesus is now in the intimate circle of His disciples. Usually when He retires together with them, it is to teach a deeper doctrine (Mk 4:10, 34; 7:17; 9:30; 10:32). One would expect here, "at home," further explanations on the views He has just exposed. Yet, according to Mark 10:10-12, Jesus merely repeats the elementary explana-tions ivhich, according to Matthew 19:9; 5:32 and Luke 16:18, He would as well give to the crowds. Does not this mean that in the source Mark used, there was "at home" some other deeper teaching imparted to the disciples? But l what other teaching was there except~the logion on the, 1~ L. Vaganay, Le probl~me synoptique ('rournai: Descl~e, 1954), pp.~167, 211, 216, and elsewhere. ~Ibid.,p. 167. iI eunuchs recorded by Matthew? Mark removed this saying, but the operation has left a scar in the text. If the pericope does belong to.th.e origins of the Gospel composition, there is no rea.soia to doubt that it was really an utterance of Jesus and this decides the question of its exact bearing. In the concrete context of jesus'ocelibate life, it is easy to find out to whom the third category of eunuchs refers. When the disciples heard that saying, they could~but think of Jesus Himself and possibly also of John the Baptist.!t is clear that Jesus here speaks of His own case and explains it. He does not advocate self-mutilation; He sets up His own example. He observed virginity and He did it con-sciously "in. view of God's Kingdom." John the Baptist had done it before Him; others would follow. Thus Jesus presents Himself as the leader~ in a line of men who; think-ing of God's Kingdom, will live like ~unuchs, giving-up the use of their sexual powers. But what is exactly the relation between virginity;and God's Kingdom? Why should one remain a celibate prop-ter regnum caelorura (in view of the Kingdom of God)? What is the precise value of that propter (dia ifi Greek)? In biblical Greek, dia with the accusative denotes causality or finality (out of, for the sake of, in view of). It is obvious that, in this'context, the meaning must be of finality. But this is still very vague, too vague to base on it an explana-tion of virginity. We can not build a theology on the strength of a preposition. If the preposition is vague, the phrase "Kingdom of Heaven," on the contrary, is clear enough. The 'Kingdom of.Heaven--or the Kingdom of God, since both phrases = This evidently settles the problem, discussed from the time of Origen onwards, of whether the saying should be understood in a realistic or in a symbolic sense. In Kittel's Theologisches Wb'rterbuch -urn Neuen Testament (TWNT), V. I, p. 590, Schmidt favors the ,ealistic interpretation: the saying would allude to people who ac-ually castrated themselves; it would invite the disciples not to imi-ate them but, at least, to reflect on their earnestness. Origen himself s a proof that there were such'cases in the early Church. But was it o during Jesus' own life time? It is rather doubtful and still more loubtful that Jesus would have set as an example this hypothetical berrant behavior. In the same TWNT of Kittel (2, p. 765), J. chneider maintains the traditional interpretation. The problem could be viewed also from the angle of Form Cdti- ,sin. What are the concrete circumstances in the life of the' ehrly ¯ hutch which led to a reminiscence of these words of-the" Master? 'Chat is the concrete problem to which they were given as an answer. t was most evidently the problem of the virgins, an acute problem as "e know from 1 Corinthians 7, and possibly also, together with it, he problem of the widows "who are truly widows" (1 Tim' 5:3; sde Cor 7: 8). According to J. Dupont, Mariag~ et divorce darts l'evangile ~ruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1959), the saying would refer to the case of husbands separated from their wives. This is a rather far- [etched $itz im Leben; moreover it overlooks completely the refer-ence to Jesus' own example. The Meaning Celibacy VOLUME 20, 196~. 341 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS haye the same significancem--appears as a key concept.of the ~synoptic Gospels. It.stands at the center of. Jesus' preaqhing. If not exactly in Judaism, at least in Jesus' mouth, it is ',a comprehensive term for the blessings of .salvation,''23 having practically .the same meaning as "the age to come" or "the life of the age to come2'~24 It is es-sentially an eschatglogical entity,. ,What the Jews had ~ !onged for,-the prophets had promised, and the apoca-lyptic writers had described, the new life coming from above, the new world, ~he new cov.enant imparted by God, t.h.e ~new Israel, the gift of ~he Sp'irit, Resurrection ,and Re,creation: it is all that.which is contained in God's Kingdom. ,Butmand th.i_s is the novelty of Jesus' teaching--with His coming, the eschatological world, the world to come has become present, though it remains unfulfilled. With the coming of Jesus the Kingdom of God offers the para-doxical character of being at the same time future and pre~ent. Jesus assures us that it is already present among us (Mr 12.:28; see Lk !2;21),but He also invites us to pray fpr~it.s coming (Mr 6:10). Exegetes have tried to rationalize ¯ this mystery by reduting Jesus' preaching to one or the other-aspect. The "co.nsequent eschatology" of A. Schweit-zer retaiged only the future aspect: the life-of Jesus was mere expectation of an imminent advent of the Kingdom,': expectation which was deceived by the event. On the con, ffary, the "realized eschatoIogy" of C. H. Dodd retains only the present element: with Jesus, the. Kingdom is .:presen~t and there is nothing ~to expect from the future; escha, to.logical elements should be dismissed as mere apoc- ~alyptical phraseology. Both views are only partial. Kiim-mel2~ and Cullmann,2n among others, have shown-that ihe integral' teaching of Christ combines both aspects. In Jesus the powers of the coming aeon are already active and the future Kingdom of God is already at work in the pres~' ent. The Spirit is given~ Yet He works only like a seed: present" in Jesus and in those who will follow Him, He has still to extend His influence to the whole world tillf His life-giving activity covers and trans,!orms the whole/ crea.t, ion. Such'is the meaning of,the parables ., of , the ¯ ~ "The Heaven" is a term used by the Jews as a' s u b s t i t uGtoed for to" a.yo.id, prgfiouncing the divine name. .m G. Dalman, The Words~o] Jesus (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1902), p.A35. Dalman shows thaLJesus somewhat altered the mean-ing of the phrase by giving .it a specifically eschatological value in connection with Daniel 7 : 27. So, though in Judaism the phrase should be translated "the kinship of God," it becomes, in Jesus' teachings, ~ynonymous with eschatological salvation. ~ Hence the equivalence with the Johannine theme of "eternal~ ~ ~ Pror~ise and Fulfilment (Naperville: Allenson, 1957). ~ Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950). Kingdom" (Mk 4 and parallels). We are still waiting for the end: the period we live in is at the same time "promise and fulfilment." This appears especially in the "signs" of the Kingdom. Accgrding to the biblical conception, a "sign" is not a pure symbol, faint image of a distant reality. It is the reality itself in its initial manifestation. In the biblical sign the coming reality is already contained, yet still hidden.27 Kiimmel has shown how in that sense J.esus' .victory over the devils and his miracles are signs of that kind.2s They show already "the coming, consummation of salvation breaking in on the present.''2s Cullmann has added to those signs the main ecclesiastical functions: the missionary preaching of the Gospel,s0 the cult and the sacraments for, in them also, in the Spirit, and "through the merits of Christ, everything is fulfilled which was ac-complished in the past history of salvation and which will be achieved in the future.''~1 In the light of Matthew 19:12 we can add virginity to those signs. Like the miracles and the sacraments virginity is a "sign. of the Kingdom," an anticipated realization of the final transformation, the glory of the world to come breaking in on the present condition. Such is the meaning of propter regnum caelorum. Jesus and many of those who follow Him refrain from sexu~al activity "in view of the Kingdom," that i~, to live already now the life of the world to come. Eschatological life has begun to stir in them and that life will be, and can already be now, a: life which has gone beyond the necessity and the urge of pro-creation. As with their preaching and miracles, Jesus and His "disciples by their celibacy proclaim the advent of the Kingdom, They exemplify already i.n_this world the fu-ture condition of men in the next aeon. As Jesus explained to the Sadducees (Mt 22:30 and parallels), in the world of Resurrection, "one shall neither marry nor be married, one will be like the angels in heaven." This does not mean that man in the Kingdom of God will be asexual, losing his human nature to become a pure spirit in the philosophical sense of the term. Such a philosophical consideration would be quite alien to the biblical mentality. Man was not made as a pure spirit neither in this world nor in the other, and consequently celibacy can not consist in trying to ape the angels. St. Luke explains the exact meaning of this analogy between the risen man and the angels in his rendering of the ~See J. Pedersen, Israel its Li[e and Culture (London: Oxford University Press, 1926), V. 1, pp. 168 ft. ~ Op. cit. (note 25), pp. 105-91. ~ Ibid., p. 121. ® O. Cullmann, Christ and Time. ~ O. Cullmann, Early Christian Worship (Chicago: Regnery, 1955i, p. $5. ÷ The Meaning ~elib~y VOLUME 20, 1961 343 4. L. Legrand REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 344 logion: "They shall neither marrynor be married for they are no more liable to die: for they are equal to the angels and they are sons of God, being sons of Resu~rrection'' (Lk 20: 35-36). The point of resemblance with the angels is not their spiritual nature but their immortality. It is account of his immortality that the risen man need no longer procreate. Life of Resurrection is no more a life "in the flesh," in a body doomed to death. It is a life God, a life of a son of God, life "in the Spirit," in a body transformed by the divine Glory. Hence the functions' the flesh become useless: procreation loses its meaning which was to make up for the ravages of death. The celibate shows by his cofidition that such life has already started. His celibacy testifies to what O. Cullmann has called "the prol~ptic deliverance of the body.''~2 proclaims that, in'Christ, despite the appearances, man escapes the clutches of death and lives in the Spirit. A passage of the Apocalypse echoes that teaching. Apoc-alypse 14:1-5 describes the glory of the Lamb in the heavenly Sion. There His throne is surrounded'by a hun-dred and forty-four thougand men, 'all those who "were redeemed from the earth." They represent the perfect number of all those who, saved by the Lamb, will con-stitute His retinue in the world to come; namely, all the elect. Their main characteristic consists in that "they are virgins" (v '~). Virginity must be understood metaphoric-ally: it means primarily fidelity to God by opposition idolatry, often described in Scripture as a "prostitution." Yet considering the realistic value of Hebrew symbolism, the concrete sense of virginity should not be altogether dismissed: "They have not defiled themselves with women" (v 4).~3 This does not mean that the author would make of virginity a necessary condition for entering the Kingdom. This passage must be understood in parallel-ism with Chapter 7, which also describes a hundred and forty-four thousand men leading an innumerable multi-tude which surrounds the throne of the Lamb. While Chapter 14 they are all virgins, in Chapter 7 they are all martyrs. This should not be understood as meaning only martyrdom can lead to salvation. But it does mean that one has no access to the Kingdom unless "he washes his =O. Cullmann, The Early Church (London: S.C.M., 1956), pp. 165-76. In his article CuIlmann does not extend his conclusions to the question 0f celibacy. He shows only that marriage has a special theological value since it "corresponds to the relation between Christ and His Church" (p. 173; see Eph 5:29). This view is quite true but should be completed by an awareness that the love between Christ and the Church is of an eschatological--hence virginal--type, The Spouse is a Virgin (see 2 Cot 11:2). Similarly, even conjugal love will have eventually to turn into the-eschatological virginal agape o! which celibacy is a prophetical type. = See L. Cerfaux and J~ Cambier, L',~pocalypse de saint Jean lue aux Chr~tiens (Paris: Cerf, 1955), pp. 124 ft. robe and makes himself white in the blood of the Lamb" (Ap 7:14). The martyr is the typical Christian for he shares the most closely in the cross of his Master. One cim not be a Christian unless he shares in.some way in the fate of the martyrs, in the cross of Christ: The same interpretatiori can be extended to the fourteenth chapter. "As martyrdom, virginity is eminently representative of Christian life. Even as' one can not be saved~without participating in the dignity of martyrdom, one can not be saved without participating in the dignity of .virginity. Virginit~y is a heavenly perfection, an anticipation, for those who are called to it, of what will be the final destiny of all in the Kingdom of Heaven.TM In the world to come all are virgins~ Even those who are married must keep their eyes on that ideal and know that their love has to turn into virginal charity. Those who remain celibate "in view of the Kingdom of Heaven" be!ong to the virginal retinue of their heavenly King the Lamb. As St. Gregory of Nyssa says: Virginal life is an image of the happi~aess that will obtain in the world to come; for it contains in itself many signs of the good things which in hope are laid before us . For when one brings in himself the life according to the flesh to an end, as far as it depends on him, he can expect "the blessed hope and the comin.g 9f the great God,;' curtailing the interval of the in-tervenlng generations between himself and God s advent. Then he can enjoy in the present life the choicest of the good things afforded by the Resurrection.= Thus the mystery of virginity, as any mystery of Chris-tian life, has a double aspect. It has a negative aspect: it represents the death of Christ and, through it, looks towards the complement of that death, the end of a!l, the apocalyptic consummation. It has also a positive aspect: it shows forth the new life in the Spirit, initiated by the Resurrection ofChrist, to be fulfilled at the Parousia. This doctrine is best embodied in the Lukan account of the virgin birth of Christ. Mary is a virgin (Lk 1:34) and, in her virginity, through the operation of the Spirit, she gave birth to Christ, the "first born" of the new world. Thus, in her virginal fecundity, she anticipated and even originated the re-creation of the world through the Spirit. In that account it must be first noticed that Luke-- and Mary--following the Hebrew mentality, do not extol virginity for its own sake. In the Magnificat Mary describes her condition of virgin as a condition of humilitas; that is, a low condition (Lk 1:48). This was exactly the term used by Anna in 1 Samuel 1 : 11 to qualify her disgrace of having ~' Ibid., p. 125. ~ De virginitate (Patrologia graeca, 46, col. 381 ft.). The theme of celibacy as heavenly life or angelic life is frequent in patristic litera-ture. See L. Bouyer, The Meaning o] Monastic LiIe (New York: Kenedy, 1955), pp. 23-40. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Meaning Celibacy voLUME 20, 1961 4- 4- 4- no child. In fact the whole narrative of the virgin birth of Christ in Luke is built in parallelism with the narratives of the Old Testament d.escribing how sterile women were made miraculously fecund by God.36 To some extent.Luke puts Mary's virginity on a par with the sterility of those women. By remaininga virgin, Mary shares in the wretch-edness of Jephte's daughter, in the abjection of the poor women who had no child (Gen 16:4; 1 Sam 1:1~16; Lk 1:25). She accepted willingly the utter poverty and the op-probrium of those who had no hope of reaching, in motherhood, their human plenitude and who conse, quently were rejected by the world as useless. But in the new Kingdom by God's transforming power, there is a reversal of the human values, The lowly are ex-alted (Lk 1:52), the poor possess the earth (Lk 6:20), those who weep laugh (Lk 6:21), the sterile and the virgins are visited by the power of the Spirit and become receptacles of the divine life. These are simply various aspects of the revolution of the cross turning infamy into glory, death into life. The glorious fecundity of Mary's humble vir-ginity contains already the mystery of the gross. Thelhope, lessness of her virginity points to the hopelessness of the cross: it proclaims, that the world is doomed and that no salvation is to be expected from the flesh. But the fecundity of that virginity presages the triumph of the cross: by the power of the Holy Ghost life will spring from death as it had sprung from the closed womb of a virgin. Thus Mary's virginity announces the disappearance of the world of flesh and the rise of a new world of the Spirit. Jeremiah's celi-bacy had prophesied the first part of the mystery. To Mary it~was given to see the fulfillment and to prophesy, in her life, both aspects of the imminent consummation. Mary's Virginity was prophetical: it turned towards the cross and anticipated the end; it ina~ugurated the~new worldwhere the flesh has no power, for that world knows no other fecundity than the fecundity of the Spirit. The charism oPvirgiriity in the Church continues and com-pletes that prophetical fUnction. Like Mary and Jesus, the Christian celibate renounces any worldly hope," for he knows th~it the world has no hope to propose. But, in his loneliness, he announces and through faith already en-joys the esc, fiato~logical visitation of the Spirit. ' u See S. Lyonhet, "Le r~cit de l'Annonciation," in L'ami du Clergd, 66 (1956), pp; 37-8, and J. P. Audet, "L'annonce h Marie," in Revue biblique 63 (1956), pp. 346-74. REVIEW FOR .RELIGIOUS BARRY MCLAUGHLIN, ~s.J. The Identity Crisis and , Religious Life We often hear it said that the child stabilizes the family. After the first four or five years of marriage the love of the honeymoon is usually exhausted: A new love unfolds. Ideally, it is the affection both parents share for the child that forms the basis for this newmand more maturebond of conjugal love. Perhaps a similar phenomenonJ occurs in religious life. After the first four or five years (or even much later sin~e circumstances and persons differ) a process of reintegra-tion takes place. The religious must re-examine and re-interpret his initial motives and goals. CA newer,° fresher love must supplant the older, faded love. And because ~he natural aids which married life affords are lacking', this transformation to a higher and more perfect love requires supernatural grace and natural maturity. There is no dichotomy here; rather, there is an inter-action. Since God has Himself implanted laws in nature, it is logical to suppose that He will follow the natural patterns operative in the human personality when He works through grace. And grace is, of course, necessary for any form of spiritual development. Yet it is imperative to emphhsize the Scholagtie'axiom that grace builds upon nature. Maturity, on the natural plane, is a prime requisite for supernatural progress and for this transformation of love. To hone Occam's raz6r to a new edge: miracles are not to be multiplied withofit necessity. Like sanctity, maturity develops slowly. For a mah is not born a saint. He is born to be a saint. The distinction is significant: men are not saints all at once; with God's grace men become saints. But-men first'become mature. Maturity, as the natural correlate and predisposition for sanctity, takes time. Psychologists point to a series of crises preliminary to its attainment. " We are especially interested in the "crisis of idehtity" ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry $. McLaughlin, S.J., 3700 W. Pine Bou-levard, St, Louis 8, Mis-souri, is doing graduate studies in psychology at St, ~'~Uis ~Jniversity. VOLUME 20~ 1961 347 the crisis contemporary With the process of re-integration and re-evaluation which occurs once the novelty and freshness of the early years of religious life have disap-peared. Resolution of the identity crisis allows a more mature and transformed love to unfold. But several more basic crises must b~ resolved first. ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry M cLaughlin, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 348 Development Toward Maturity One of the most widely used theoretical conceptions of psychological development.is the neo-Freudian synthesis proposed by Erik H. Erikson. At a given age, because of physical, intellectual, and emotional maturation, a human being willingly and necessarily faces a new life task. A Set of choices and tests are prescribed for him by his ciety's structure. This new life task presents a crisis. The outcome of this crisis can be successful graduation or im-pairment of the life cycle (which will aggravate future crises). Each crisis prepares for the next--each is a step taken in the direction of the ne~t, until the adult identity is attained. The first crisis is the one of early infancy. What is at stake here, the psychologist feels, is the question of whether a man's inner mood will be determined more by basic trust or basic mistrust. The outcome of this crisis is de-pendent largely upon the quality of maternal care. The mother's affection and her gratification of the child's needs lend a certain pr~edictability and hopefulness in spite of the urgency and bewildering nature of the baby's bodily feelings. This first crisis corresponds roughly to what Freud has described as orality; the second to anality. An awareness of these correspondences is essential for a true understand- ]ng-of the dynamics involved. The second crisis, resolved usually by the fourth year, develops the infantile sources of the sense of autonomy. In this period the child learns to ,~iew himself as an indi-vidual in his own right, apart from his parents although dependent upon them. If there are conditions which in-terfere with the child's achievement of a feeling of ade-quacyv- if he fails, for example, to learn to walk during this ~period--then the alternative is a sense of shame or doubt pervading later adult consciousness (or uncon-sciousness). The third crisis is a part of what Freud described as the central complex of the family; namely, the Oedipus com-plex. According to the opinion of many psychoanalysts, this crisis involves the lasting unconscious association of sensual freedom with the body of the mother; a lasting association of cruel prohibition with the interference of the father; and the consequent love and hate in reality and in phantasy. This is the stage of.initiative; correspond- ing to Freud's phallic stage of psychosexuality. It is the period of vigorous reality testing, imagination, and imi-tation of adult behavior. The major hazard to the solution of this crisis is an overly strict discipline which produces a threatening conscience and flae internalization of rigid and exaggerated (non-rational) ethical attitudes. In the fourth stage the child, now between six and eleven years old, becomes capable of learning intellectually and collaborating with others. The resolution of this stage decides much of the ratio~between, a. sense of in-dustry and a sense of tool-inferiority. A man learns simple techniques which will prepare him for the tasks of his culture. A. rational sense of duty and obligation is also involved here, and the laying aside of fantasy and play for the undertaking of real tasks and the development academic and social competefice. This stage corresponds to the.Freudian latency period. The Identity Crisi~ We are chiefly concerned inthis ~rticle with the identity crisis, first of~all in its broader, cultural dimensions, and then within the specific framework of the religious life. The young~adolescent in our culture must~clarify his understanding of who he is and what his role is to be. He must forge for himself some central perspective and direc-tion, some effective integration, ou_t :of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adulthood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosi~s,-psy-chosis, or delinquent behavior. More frequently,, however, there is a generalized sense of role diffusion. The possession of a role within the culture and,of standards of cultural living constitutes the social side of identity. In addition, there is an optimum ego synthesis to which the. individual himself aspires. The Judeo-Chris-dan tradition and the ideals of the American heritage stress the immeasurable worth of _the individual person. The dignity of the individual, respect for the individual, self-det~rmination these are phrases which attest to our consciousness of the value of personal identity. Each per-son is certain of what is in fact true: that he stands at the center of a unique network of relationships, experiences, influences. He is different and he knows it. Consciousness of the value.of personal identity and a strong sense of personal uniqueness do not,. ho.wever, neces-sarily imply a resolution of the crisis of identity. In some young people, in some classes, at certain periods of history, the identity crisis will be minimal; in other people, classes, and periods this crisis will be clearly marked off as a criti-cal period. There is considerable evidence that in our cul-ture today the identity crisis is of maximal importance, that most individuals undergo a prolonged identity crisis. ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity Crisis VOLUME 20, 1961 349 ÷ 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 During this crisis there is a desperate urgency, often con-cealed under the camouflage of social conventions, to resolve the problem of what one should' believe0in and who one should be or become. Three crises follow the crisis of identity; they concern problems of intimacy, generativity, and integrity. What role diffusion is~to identity, its alternative and danger, isolation is to intimacy, egocentric nonproductivity is to generativity, and the lack of consistent values is to integ-rity. When~ the identity crisis is prolonged, these three crises are interwoven with it. The resolution of the identity crisis brings concomitantly the resolution of intimacy, gen-erativity, and integrity crises: A lasting sense of ego identity is the characteristic of the mature adult. The Identity Crisis in the American Culture Victor Frankl, one of the leading .proponents of Ex-istential psychology, has pointed out that Freudian psy-choanalysis has introduced into psych.ological research what it calls the pleasure principle or the will-to-pleasure. Adler has' made psychologists conversant with the role of the will-to-power as a main factor in the formation of neurosis. But Frankl maintains that man is neither dominated by the will-to-pleasure nor by the will-to-power, but by What he'would call man's will-to-meaning; that is, man's deep-seated striving for a higher and~ultimate mean-ing to his existence. Frankl .has perhaps overstated his case; it is more likely a question of emphasis. But the will-to-meaning does re-flect the modern concern with personal identity and, in this sense, is probably as strategic in our time as the study of sexuality was in Freud's time or the study of the drive" for power in Adler~s time. , It is signific~int,-too, that concern with matters of identity is greatest in this country. Psychologists and psychoanalysts recognize th~at in America especially adult patients hope to find in the psychoanalytic system a refuge from the discontinuities 6f existence and a re-gression to a more patriarchal one-to-one system. America has been a melting-pot, a country which attempts to make a super-identity otit of the' identities imported by its constituent immigrants. Previous agrarian and patri-cian identities have been" submerged in the wake of the rapidly increasing ,mdchanization of industrial technology. Frequently the American man has been unable to formu-late his new identity. Depreciation-of.the American way of life is, of course, the favorite indoor sport of cultural critics. The per-tinence of their remarks is not always apparent,.yet in the present context several criticisms'are relevanf. They point out some Of the reasons for the identity crises of con- temporary Americans. From these criticisms we can gain some understanding of the identity crisis of the American man and ultimately of the identity crisis of the (American) religious man. In Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, Biff'exempli-ties an American "type." Society 'has failed to provide him with a clearly defined role: "I just can't take hold, Mom, I just can't take hold of some kind of life.''1 He-lives in constant frustration, unaware of who he.is or what he is to be. And many psychoanalysts feel thatBiff's number is legion. That Biff should address his problems to Morn is sig-nificant, During World War II the expression "Momism' came :into existence :as a means of denoting a type of per- _~onality commonly :encountered in ybung men. There is ¯ n excessive dependence upon and 'attachment' to, the ,nother, with but feeble' attachment to:the father and no =lear image gained through him of man's role. Psychol-ogists have commented upon the probable roots of this phenomenon: the absence, both physically and psycho: logically, of the father from many American urban, and .uburban homes. Because of the conditions of .ecdnomic ~nd social life, many fathers have neither the opportunity qor the inclination to "take on" their sons in the way that a, as common, for example, in the days of the older patri-archal society. This is the first cause we wish to mention "or the prolongation of the crisis of identity: . the failhre ~,f the father in our culture to give to the son a clear image ,f the masculine personality and the role of man. ~ :~ 'Critics have also noted the American fear of loneliness. Individual identity is sacrificed in an effort to stay. close o the herd, to be no ~different from others in" thought, eeling, or action. To stand aside, to be alone, is t6 assert ¯ personal identity which refuses to be submerged. So-iety will not tolerate this; innumerable social features are lesigned to prevent it: stadiums to accommodate~thou-ands at sport events, open doors of private rooms and of- ¯ ces, club cars on trains, shared bedrooms ih colleges and ,oarding houses, countless clubs, organizations; associa-ions, societies, canned music (for gilence~is unbearable) ,iped~into hotel rooms, railway cars, and supermarkets. Yet one of the surest signs of the resolutio~ of' the iden-ity crisis is an increased capacity for .being alqne, for ~eing responsible for oneself.~The gradual process that ¯ ill end in perfect identity involves 'an awareness of he'fact that there are decisions in life and aspects of life's truggle tha~t a l~erson mu~t fa~e alone. ~o Fgr~. a~ young person becomes dearer in his own mind ,f his role in society and of his personal identity he is a In J6hn Gassner (ed.), Best American Plays: Third Series, 1945- 951 (New York: Crown, 1952), p. 19. Identity, ~risis~ VOLUME 20~ 196~. 4. 4., 4. Barr~ MeLaughlin, $.L REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 352 likely also to become more aware of how he differs from others. Gradually he becomes conscious of his isolation from others, not because others are pulling away but be-cause the fullness of personal identity cannot be achieved without.some degree of aloneness. Here we have a para-dox: the more richly a person lives, the more lonely, in a sense, he becomes. And as a person, in his isolation, .be-comes more able to appreciate the moods and feelings of others, he also becomes more able to have meaningful relationships with them. But the unwritten code of our national culture pro-hibits aloneness, and this is the second causative factor for a prolonged identity crisis: the obstacles our society im-poses to the cultivation'of a sense of personal identity. Finally, we see what the critics refer to as the "deper-sonalization" of man by the mass media. "Man is losing himself," Emmanuel Mounier wrote, "in his handiwork instead ~of losing himself in his consciousness; he has not been liberated.''2 There is much that could be said about these factors and their deleterious effects upon a sense of individual identity; but much has already been said by the critics, What is of primary interest here is that mass media standardize thought by supplying the spectator ~ith a ready-made visual image before he has time to construct a rational interpretation of his own. Man has come to'ac-cept ideas and attitudes without having submitted these to himself for intellectual decision. Man is so much a part of the verbal noise going on around him that he does~not notice what the noise is conveying to him. There are, of course, many other causative factors contributing to our national and individual identity crises Millions of young people face these and other psychologi-cal and social obstacles to identity and transcend them in one way or another. If not, they live, as Captain Ahab says, with half their heart and with only oneof their lungs, and the world is the worse for it, The Identity Crisis in the Religious Life The religious man--and by this is meant the man pos~ sessing a fundamentally God-oriented personalitydis of course, immune from cultural influences. Yet as Erikso observes in his book on Luther,., He is always older, or in early years suddenly becomes older than his pla.ymates or even his parents and teachers, and focuses in a precocious way on what it takes others a lifetime to gain a mere inkling of: the question of how to escape corruption i living and how in death to give meaning to life. Because he e periences a breakthrough to the last problems so early in hit life maybe such a man had better become a martyr and seal his message with an early death; or else become a hermit in a soil ="A Dialogue with Communism," Cross Currents, v. $ (195~ p. 127. i! tude which anticipates the Beyond. We know little of Jesus of Nazareth as a young man, but we certainly cannot even begin to imagine him as middle-aged? This short cut between the youthful crisis of identity and the mature one of integrity makes the religious man's problem acutely intense. In addition, the method of "indoctrination" to which he subjects himself aims at sys-tematically descending to the .frontiers where all ego dan-gers must be faced in the raw, where personal guilt is un-covered, drives tamed by prayer and asceticism, and where, ultimately, self must abandon and transform its own identity. In a sense, only "religious geniuses''4 are cgpable of such an enterprise. Yet the man or woman who enters religious life specifically chooses to face this challenge. Per-haps the most important ramification of the life of the vows is the consequent necessity of mature personal iden-tity. There are those, however, who consider it dangerous, unreasonable, and even in a sense against nature, to com-mit a young person in perpetuity to the religious life. Martin Luther became convinced that religious commit-ment was impossible to a man under thirty years of age. A young man of twenty does not know what th~ future may have in store, what sacrifices he may have to accept. He has only a very general view of what religious life will be and his final renunciation can only be made when he knows in detail and as a whole what such a life entails. Yet St. Thomas held that a person could decide upon a religious vocation years be~fore puberty. This poses a problem which involves more than a ques-tion of the religious vocation. It is concerned 'with one of the fundamental aspects of the problem of life. The ma-ture man is future-oriented; for him life is a continuous whole. In his youth he finds that he must commit him-self to an identity, to a course to which he will remain bound in the future. His acts are weighted with the future. If a man refuses to commit himself, identity becomes im-possible. Marriage and the religious vocation are the two funda-mental forms of commitment. When a man marries he is unaware of the trials and responsibilities'of marriage; he does not know what it is to have a dependent wife and children. But the will to do that which is irrevocable de-pends on the strength of a person's love. A love which is genuine takes possession of the whole of the personality. Then it desires to be irrevocable. This notion of commitment is most perfectly delineated in the thought of Gabriel Marcel: I see it like this. In the end there must be an absolute com- " The Young Man Luther (New York: Norton, 1958), p. 261. 'Jean Dani~lou, s.J., God and the Ways o] Knowing (New York: Meridian Books, 1957), p. 10. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Barry MeLaugh!in, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 354 mitment, entered upon by the whole of myself, or at least by something real in myself which could not be repudiated with-out repudiation of the whole--and which would be addressed to the whole of Being and would be made in the presence of that whole. This is faith. ObViously, repudiation is still a possibility .here, but ,cannot be justified by a change in the subject or object; ~t can only be explained by a fall? This notion, of personal commitment leaves little room for the so-called "temporary vocation" (which is actually a contradiction in terms), even when this is understood as an actor the permissive will of God which allows a person, for his sanctification, to live for some time as a religious and with religious vows. Although a person does grow and develop as he lives out his commitment, although his in-itial love deepens into a more perfect and more mature love, there can be no possibility of a repudiation. This would be a denim of identity and is only explained by a "fall." These are strong words, and are not, of course, meant to be dogmatic. The nature and binding force of a religious commitment such as life with vows requires much more adequate theological analysis. Yet the problem remains. The religious man must be mature before, his time. Ultimately it is a question of the initial acquisition of what Lindworsky calls the "'voca-tional ideal": Before every man there stands~ a picture of that which he should become; and never will he be fully at peace, undl the ideal shown in that picture has been brought to perfect rgaliza-tion. G This provides a focal' point for personal identity within the religious vocation. Perfect identity is not something acquired in its fullness all at once. It comes at the termina-tion of a long and gradual process of growth. Each step along the way presents new difficulties and necessitates closer scrutiny and deeper meditation upon the nature of the identity chosen. There must be a gradual transforma-tion and identification with Christ. ¯The vocational ideal guides the individual to this new identity within the confines of a life of the vows. Gradu-ally the significance of each vow becombs apparent. Each involves a secondary crisis of its own, a danger to personal identity. Once each of these crises are faced and resglved perfect identity is realized. By his vow of poverty the religious man is thrust once more--thi~ time on a much more conscious and more spiritual level--into the primary crisis of trust. In a real (though qualified) sense, religious experience, as Erikson points out, retraces our earliest inner experiences, giving ~ Being and Having (Glasgow: University Press, 1949), pp. 45-46. o Johannes Lindworsky, S.J., The Psychology o! Asceticism (West-minster: Newman, 1950), p. 15. angible form to vague evils and reaching back to the .~arliest moments of childhood. The child must learn to rust his mother; the religious man ~must learn 'to rust God. Only then can he venture out into the.apparent cold which lack of possessiong m~ans to his natural un- ]erstanding and to his provident instincts. Otherwise he "alls into a new and much worse predicament. When a nan has adopted poverty, he will take daily action to keep dive his trust in God; and from the constantly reiterated :onfirmation ~of this t~'ust, he will draw nourishment "or ~his love of God. Voluntary poverty is an attempt to live so strongly upon he inner surge of love for Christ that external supports :an be reduced to a minimum. It is an attempt to be as ~nuch as possible. It is an incentive for a man to restore ~rder of the right kind to his own life and in his relations o God and his fellows. To he more a man and more truly ~ man, as completely and perfectly a man as~possible~: hat is the purpose of the yow of poverty. Failure to achieve uch an identity is its danger. .Chastity also entails a crisis. Th~ religious community "isks becoming an assembly of old bachelors or old maids, whose egoism is concealed beneath a facade of renunci-ation. The mainstay of the family is conjugal love and the ove between the parents and their children. In tl~e re-igious life it is God alone who is the bond, and the corn-non life cannot be sanctified except insofar as the person, ~y loving God, passes beyond its natural aspects.-The ring of mortification is always there because the affections :stablished between members of a community do not form hat personal link which is characteristic of the family. The religious man finds affection, but this is on a piritual plane, leaving certain sides ofthe human per-onality unsatisfied. Men do not go to religious life to ind what they normally find in the family. There is friend-hip, but basically a religious man's life is in God, and n,God one is alone. Fundamental solitude: God is the ~ortion of his inheritance. Psychologically, this involves a sublimation of the nost radical type, yet Freud himself admitted its possi-bility and its actual fulfillment in St. Francis of Assisi nd others. A new and different identity must be forged. In order to arrive at being everything, desire to be noth-ng," wrote St. John of the CrossF This crisis involves, ~asically, final surrender of self-identity and union and bs0rption into the identity of Christ. The vow of ob'edience entails an equally radical crisis. Fhe religious man's identity threatens to be submerged. The Ascent of Mount Carmel, 1, 13, I1 in E. A. Peers (ed. and rans.), The Complete Work o] St. John o] the Cross (Westminster: ~ewman, 1953), v. 1, p. 62. Identity Crisis VOLUME 20,~ 1961 355 4. 4. Barry McLaughlin, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 Existentialist literature especially makes this point: "W~ want freedom for freedom's sake and in every particula circumstance," writes Sartre. "Those who hide their com plete freedom from themselves out of a spirit of serious ness, I shall call cowards.''s Self-identity seems impossibh without the freedom to choose, to determine one's owt conduct and profit or suffer by the consequences. This i a notion rooted in contemporary American Protestan ideals. So much so ttiat William James admitted: It is difficult even imaginatively to comprehend how men po~, sessed of an inner life of their own could ever have come t think the subjection of its will to that of other finite creature recommendable. I confess that to myself it seems something o a mystery? There is a paradox here. When'the religious ma empties himself of his own will (not to other finite crea tures, of course, but to God), at that moment the whol world enters in to fill the vacant space. The saint has n~ particular desires. He seeks only to be allowed to disap pear. He reveals the world to mankind as God has willet it. Yet more than any other man, the saint is responsible He is aware of his obligation to choose for himself. Th terrible duty of the saint is the duty to choose consistentl the "chOice of God. There is one other aspect to the identity crisis in re ligious life, the professional aspect. There are two side to the identity crisis: achievement of personal identity an~ of social identity. We have discussed in some detail th religious man's growth in personal identity. There is als the social role of religious men and women in Americ today, the role of teacher and scholar. Much has been wrftten and much said about the pligh of the American Catholic educational endeavor. We ar concerned here with but one facet of these discussions the undeniable need of Catholic educators to dedicat themselves completely to the subjects they teach. Thi dedication must mean a commitment of the sort which in volves the individual completely in the field he is intel ested in, so much so that he is eager and enthusiastic to se and to contribute to its progress. And since there is fi way to dedicate oneself to learning from the outside, th individual must devote himself totally to his field. A b] stander is too uncommitted. As Father Ong has observed If there is anything that our American Catholic education suffel from, it is the fact that too many of us are not committed enoug to the subjects we profess, not dedicated to them with that tot~ ~Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism (New York: Philosophical brary, 1947), pp. 54--55. ~ The Varieties o! Religious Experience (New York: Longma Green, 1909), p. 311. :~ edicati~n which, for us, should be part of our religious dedica- ~on of God Himself, who makes human knowledge to advance.10 It would seem that many religious men and women, who ,ave to a great extent resolved aflm~i~rably the problems of ,ersonal vocational identity, have not resolved the prob-ems of social identity, have not seen clearly their own role s teachers and scholars. Perhaps the opposite is 6ften true, ,ut in either case it is apparent that there is need "for a uccessful resolution of the identity crisis on both levels nd for an integration at an even higher level. ",6nclusion The gyeatness of man consists in his origin, his nobility s a creature, as a child of God. But more than this: there s also his vocation; man is called upon to co-operate with he divine liberty in the creation of his own identity. This nvolves a process of what Dietrich Von Hildebrand calls 'confronting all things with Christ.''n The saint alone ,as solved the identi.ty crisis perfectly. He has transformed fis self-identity into the identity of Christ. Each saint s a pane of glass of a different color through which Christ's adiance shines. But we all are called to be saints. And if maturity is a ,rerequisite to sanctity, the resolution, with grace, of cer-ain psychological crises is necessary. Above all the reso-ution of the identity crisis, usually concomitant with the ,rocess of re-examination and re-evaluation which occurs ,nce the novelty of the early years of religious life has ,assed, prepares the way to sanctity. Each religious, like he saint, must deepen and transform his love. There is a continuity in life which the saint makes nanifest. The child persists in the man; the mature adult ,as grown out of" childhood without losing childhood's ,est traits. He retains the basic emotional strengths and he stubborn autonomy of the infant, the capacity for onder and pleasure and playfulness of the preschool ears, the capacity for affiliation and the intellectual curi- ,sity of the school years, and the idealism and passion of dolescence. He has incorporated these into a new pattern ;ominated by adult stability, wisdom, knowledge, re-ponsibility, strength, and prudence. The saint is not a man apart from, and outside of, the ;retchedness of everyday life. He is not a man in corn- ,union with God and out of communion with other men. ~ecause he lives in close contact with God, because he has onformed his mind to the mind of Christ, the saint is the ~Walter Ong, S.J., American Catholic Crossroads (New York: ¯ *acmillan, 1959), pp. 104-05. n Translormation in Christ (New York: Longmans, Green, 1948), ¯ 74. VOLUME 20, 1961 357 one man who is in communion with us, while all other live apart. This is why the saint is the per[ectly mature individual at once the most sensitive and the most spiritual o[ men The most sensitive because nothing and no one in world finds him unresponsive, since he is always in mediate and loving contact with persons and things. He the most spiritual o[ men, ~or every movement o[ his sonality has its origin in the realization that Christ measure o[ all things, the source o[ his own identity. embodies per[ectly the words of St. Paul: "So we shal reach per[ect manhood, that maturity which is propor ¯ tioned to the complete growth of Christ" (Eph 4:13). Barr~ McLaughlin, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 358 ROBERT F. WEISS, S.J. The Christ of the Apocalypse Toward the end of his long life in the closing years of the first century, our Lord's beloved disciple, the apostle St. John, penned from his place of exile on the island of Patmos a beautiful message of hope and encouragement for the Christian churches. The style: 0f this letter, the last book of the Bible, is apocalyptic; that is, it deals with the revelation made to John of things present and pastas well as future. Its theme 'is the ,triumph of Christ. In images of surpassing beauty, St. John describes for all ages the glorious King of kings. Although it is the same Christ of the Gospels whom we meet here, a great change has come over Him. He is still "like unto a son of man," but He no longer has the weaknesses and limitationS of His humanity. We will see Him in settings of majesty, power, and triumph--all of which are meant to stir up hope, love, and courage for the struggle ahead, for the difficulties and persecutions the Church must always suffer. He has already conquered. This is Christ as He is now, and yet His victory is being constantly repeated. The message is, therefore, one of personal concern for all Christians of every .age. "Blessed be the man who reads this prophecy," says John, "and those who hear it read and heed what is written in it, for the time is near." For each one of us the battle is now raging, and the end of our own struggle is approaching. Christ conquered sin and death long ago; but as long as this world lasts, the conflict goes on. Not until the last day will Ghrist:s triumph be final and complete. But for us, each individual, the time is near and Christ is coming soon. John begins his epistle in a Trinitarian setting, using a salutation much like Paul's as he wishes peace and blessing to the seven churches in Asia from "Him who is and was and is coming"--the Father--"and from the seven spirits befOre His throne"--the Holy Spirit represented by His Robert F. Weiss, S.J., is a faculty member of St. Louis University, 221 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 3, Mis-souri. VOLUME 20, 1961 359 + 4. 4. Rober~ F. Wei~s~ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 360 sevenfold gifts--and "from Jesus Christ." The full title, Jesus Christ, used here in connection with the other per-sons of the Blessed Trinity, is not used again until the very last verse in the letter. John seems to prefer Jesus alone, in this way emphasizing the humanity of the glorious Christ and His identity with the historical person who lived and suffered. Christ alone as a title occurs only four times. All of these are in the last half of the book in settings of solemnity and majesty and in close association with name of God. John's favorite title for Christ is, as will later, the Lamb, although he also .uses Son of God and Son of Man. The apostle's cast of mind is revealed by the prayer Of praise he offers to Christ at the outset--"to Him who loves us and has released us from our sins." This Christ "has made us a kingdom of priests for His God and Father." Just as Israel when set free from Egypt acquired a national life under its divinely appointed king, so Church, redeemed by the Blood of Christ, makes up a holy nation. As kings, the faithful of Christ will reign all the peoples; as priests, united to Christ the Priest, they will offer to God the Whole universe in a sacrifice of praise. In his magnificent opening vision, John sees the glorified and idealized human form of Christ: a being like a man, wearing a long robe, with a gold belt around his breast. His head and hair were as white as white wool, as white as snow; his eyes blazed like fire; his feet were like bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the noise of mighty waters. In his right hand he held seven stars; from his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword, and his face shone like the sun at noonday. The garments are the first object to catch John's attention. The figure wears a long robe of the priesthood and girded with the belt of royalty. His snow white hair His eternity, and His eyes blazing like fire repre-sent His divine knowledge. Feet glowing like bronze furnace symbolize His power and utter stability. His voice, which is compared to the thundering rush of a waterfall, and His face, shining like the noonday sun, which recalls the glorious transfiguration on Mount Tabor, give Him a majesty that is terrifying. In His right hand are seven stars representing the seven churches over which He has power and care. It was among seven lampstands that this figure had appeared; they are likewise churches and signify His omnipresence. From His mouth comes the sharp two-edged sword of the word of God which has power to condemn or reward. This is He who is "coming on the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even the men who pierced Him." John is so overawed by the sight that he falls at the feet of Christ like a dead man. But our Lord lays His hand him and tells him not to be afraid. For He is the first and tlie last, that is, the Creator and the last end of all things. He is the Living One, an idea prominent in the tliinking of the Hebrews. Theirs is a living God, not the dead idols of their pagan neighbors. Chi'ist ~a~ defid, crudi~ed; yet here He is alive forever and ever. He has risen from the dead never to die again. More than that, He holds the keys of death and the underworld, over which as God He alone has power. He carries the key of David and thus has ab-solute authority to admit or exclude anyone'from the city of David, the new Jerusalem. He "operis and no one shall shut, and'shuts and no one shall open." This is the Christ of the Apocalypse, infinitely majestic and august. He wiil come in the end seated on a cloud, and with a single swing of His sickle the' harvest of the earth will be reaped. His prhdominant characteristic is unbounded power. Only once or twice, it is said, does the tenderness of Christ's compassion or the intimacy of His fe!lowship with men make itself felt in this book. Yet when it does, it is unexpected and most poignant. Afier rebuking and praising, encouraging the faithful and castigating the tepid, Christ concludes: I reprove and discipline all whom I love. So be earnest and re: pent. Here I stand knocking at the door. If anyone listens to my voice ~and opens the door, I will be his guest and dine With him, and he with me. I will permit him who is victorious to take his seat.beside my father on his throne. In apocalyptic literatur~e Christ is frequently pictured as a judge at the door. Hire the beloved disciple sees Christ not as a judge but as a friend inviting us to :the closest kind 6f intimate companionship. For the Orientals the Lidea of perfect friendship is represented by the notion of taking a meal together. Since it is not uncommon for John to use words with additional connotations, even with a triple meaning, he may well be alluding here also to the Holy Eucharist, in which Christ Himself becomes our food, as ~vell as to the banquet prepared for the faithful in heaven. Even in this setting of gentle and tender intimacy, the glory awaiting the loyal friends of Christ is not forgotten. The place asked by their mother for the sons of Zebedee is to be had by all those who are faithful unto the end. The risen and ascended Christ is all in all to the members of His Church. He loves them; He redeemed them; and He has made them what they are, a new Israel, a kingdom of priests. In the succeeding visions, John prefers to speak of Christ as the Lamb. This is not to be looked on as a photograph or a picture or even as an imaginative'representation. Like the other images used, it is a symbol, a thought-representa~ tion to be taken according to its intellectual content. ~Th~ images are not essential and sho~uld not be retained. The ÷ The Christ o] the Apocalypse VOLU~E 20, 1961 361 + + ÷ Robert F. Weiss, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 author wishes to convey an idea, and that is all the image should be used for. He gives us a succession of these sym-b~ Is~rom ~hich he wishes us.to take an idea and then move on to the next. This is especially true of the various qualities ascribed to Christ whom he will repeatbdly iefer to as simply the Lamb. This is not the sacrificial Lamb of Isaiah about whom John is speaking; rather it is the Lamb as a leader. He the strong one, the sheperd 0f the faithful who will guide them.to the springs of living water, the fountain of which is God Himself. It is this Lamb alone who can break the seals and open the book upon which are written the secrets of history-~the story of the great sufferings to endured, the conflict that will rage, and Christ's ultimate and magnificent victory. The Lamb, has seven horns signify His unlimi~ted power and seven eyes as symbols His vast knowledge. As so frequently in the peculiar apoc-alyptic style of this letter, the number seven is used to completeness and plenitude. The Lamb as John sees Him appears as if slaughtered, and yet He lives. He has conquered sin and death. He was slain as a victim, but only the splendid results of sacrifice remain. To Him indeed belong the ~rerogatives of God. He is spoken of more and more, as John's account proceeds, in the same breath with God the Father. He has a share in the works of God. "Our deliverance is the work of our God who is seated on the throne and of the Lamb." In the glorious day of the heavenly Jerusalem, Christ Lamb will reign with His Father. John saw this Jerusalem: the holy city, coming down out of heaven from God, in all the glory of God. It shone with a radiance like that of some very precious stone, like jasper, clear as crystal . I saw no temple in it, for the Lord God, the'Almighty, and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun nor the moon to shine in it, for the glor~ of God lighted it, and the Lamb is its lamp. The heathen will walk by its. light. The kings of the earth will bring their splendor to ,t. Its gates will never be shut by day--for there will be no night there and they will bring the splendor and the wealth of the heathen into it. Noth!ng unclean will ever enter it. In this day God will make "all things new." The apostle is trying to describe heaven in .this passage using the language of the Old Testament with which his readers were familiar. The essential jo~ of this state of glory is that God will be with those who have remained faithful and they will be with Him. Everything good will also be in heaven, but the presence of God will be everything. God and His Christ are its sanctuary; God's glory will light it; the Lamb will be its lamp. There will be no need for a temple other than God or for the intermediary of religion, for God Himself will be possessed. The Lamb in the day of judgment can be terrible in His anger, and as a shepherd He rules with a rod of iron. But there is an arresting touch of tenderness in the glimpse we are given of the glorious victory to which .He will lead His followers: They are the people who come through the great pe~secuti0n, who haveowashed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb. That is why they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his :temple, and he who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will never be hungry or thirsty again, and never again will the sun or any burning heat distress them, for the Lamb who is in the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes., Seel God's dwelling is with men, and he will live with them. They will be .his people and God himself will be with them. Those who come through the time of tribulation are those who have washed their :robes in the blood of the Lamb. This symbolic expression includes both the idea of salva-tion through the death, of Christ and theoactivity of-the faithful' themselves signified by the washing. Their reward will be to participate in the worship of God day and night. With typical Hebrew reverence for the name of God, John speaks of Him "who is seated on the throne" rather, than repeat the sacred name: Just as in the land of promise there was to be a cessation of suffering, so in heaven the faithful will be eternally free from all care and want and every sort of mental distress or bodily pain. For the Hebrews water was scarce and very precious; a plentiful source of it signi- ,fled abundance and prosperity. The water here is a symbol of God's grace, and God is its source. John's vision is in terms of the Old Testament prophecy of Isaiah, but now in Christ the fulfillment is assured. There isone other appearance of Christ which must be mentioned, perhaps the most striking vision of all. Before, we saw the temple; now heaven itself is opened, andwe see the magnificent, triumphant Warrior-King followed by the armies of heaven: Then I saw heaven thrown open and there appeared a white horse. His rider was called Faithful and True, and he judges and wages war in uprightness. His eyes blazed like fire. There were many diadems on his head, and there was a name written on him which no one knew but himself. The garment he wore was spattered with blood, and his name was the word of God. The armies of heaven followed him mounted on white horses and clothed in pure white linen. From his mouth came a sharp sword with which he is to strike down the heathen. He will shepherd them with a staff of iron, and will tread the winepress of the
Issue 19.1 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review For Religious Volume 19 1960 Editorial O[[ice ST. h~ARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas Publisher TIlE QUEEN'S WORK St. Louis, Missouri EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Henry Willmering, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS John E. Becker, S.J. Robert F. Weiss, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answen Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland Book Reviews Earl A. Weis, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana Published in January, March, May, July, September, November on Ihe fifleenlh of Ihe monlh. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is Indexed in Ihe CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX. Act of "Dedication of the Human Race to Christ the King Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary IOn July 18, 1959 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 51 11959~, 595-96), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued a new text of the act of dedication of the human race to the Heart of Christ the King. The text has been revised according to the directives of John XXIII who has also accorded a number of indulgences to the revised prayer. The following is a translation of the new text of the prayer together with the indulgences granted for its recital.I SWEET JESUS, Redeemer of the human race, look do~vn upon us humbly kneeling before Your altar.~ We are Yours and Yours we wish to be; but in order to be still more firmly united to You, today each one of us freely dedicates himself to Your most Sacred Heart. There are many indeed who have never known You; many others have rejected Your commandments and have repudiated You. Be merciful to all of them, 0 kind Jesus, and draw them all to Your holy Heart. Be king, 0 Lord, not only of the faithful who have never abandoned You, but also of the prodigal children who have left You; bring them back quickly to their Father's house lest they die of misery and hunger. Be king of those who have been deceived by erroneous ideas or have been separated by discord; bring them back to the harbor of truth and to the unity of faith so that soon there may be a single fold and a single shepherd. Bestow upon Your Church, 0 Lord, security, liberty, and safety; give to all nations the tranquillity of order; and grant that from one pole of the earth to the other there may ring out the cry: Praise to the divine Heart which brought forth our salvation; to It be glory and honor forever. Amen. July 18, 1959 His Holiness, John XXIII, after abrogating the prayer as given in the Enchiridion Indulgentiarum [Manual of Indulgences], 1952, n. 271, graciously granted the following indulgences: 1) A partial indulgence of five years to the faithful who devoutly recite the above act of dedication with contrite heart. 2) A plenary in- 1When the prayer is recited outside a church or oratory, "in Your presence" should be said instead of "before Your altar." ACT OF DEDICATION dulgence once a month, if they have recited the prayer devoutly every day for a whole month, provided they go to confession, receive Communion, and make a visit to a church or a public oratory. 3) The faithful may gain a partial indulgence of seven years if on the Feast of Christ the King they are present in any church or oratory, even a semi-public one (in the case of those legitimately attending it), when the act of dedication tn the Sacred Heart of Jesus according to the formula given above and the Litanies of the Sacred Heart are recited before the Blessed Sacrament solemnly exposed; moreover, they may gain a plenary indulgence if, besides fulfilling the above conditions, they have gone to confession and Communion. All contrary provisions not withstanding. N. Card. CANALI, Major Penitentiary L. ~I, S. I. Rossi, Secretary Living /aters Frederick Power, $. J. pius XII in his encyclical Haurietis aquas on devotion to the Sacred Heart urges us to"-study diligently the teachings of Scripture, the fathers, and the theologians--the solid founda-tions on which devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus rests." For the Holy Father is "firmly convinced that we can rightly and fully appreciate the incomparable excellence and inexhaustible store of heavenly gifts of this devotion only when we study its nature in the light of divinely revealed truth." The encyclical itself begins with a text from Isaiah: "You shall draw waters with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" (Is 12:3). A few lines further on the Holy Father returns to the idea of the "Saviour's fountains" when he refers to the scene in the Temple at Jerusalem on the Feast of Tabernacles as recorded in John's Gospel, Chapter 7:37-39. The words of our Lord on this occasion are numbered among the principal te~ts which establish the biblical foundation of the devotion. A closer study of this text will be most rewarding and will reveal the appropriateness of the text as the general theme of the encyclical. When the Feast of Tabernacles was at hand, our Lord had declined to go to Jerusalem with His relatives but afterwards went up by Himself "not publicly but as it were privately." The Feast of Tabernacles was held towards the end of Sepo tember after the grain harvest and the vintage and the gathering of the autumn fruit crop. Originally an agricultural festival in-stituted to give thanks to God for the fruitfulness of the soil, it later included the commemoration of the forty years spent by the Hebrews in the desert. In memory of the latter event all Jews of free status except the sick, women, and children lived for the week in huts made from the leafy branches of trees. These huts reminded them of the tents or tabernacles pitched in the wilder-ness of Sinai, a period kept ever fresh in their minds as one in which God gave them the great gifts of the manna and of the water from the rock. The desert ever afterwards remained in Jewish tradition as the place of God's protective presence. Two elaborate ceremonies added to the gaiety of the feast: the procession to the fountain of Siloe and the torch-light illumi-nation of the Women's Court. It is the first of these ceremonies that is of interest for the present article. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious Each morning the multitude organized into a procession. The people lined the route leading to thepool of Siloe and crowded into the Temple and the surrounding courtyards and porches. Then a procession of priests and Levites descended the valley as far as the pool of Si|oe. Those assisting at the ceremony held a citron fruit in the left hand and in the right a palm branch twined with shoots of myrtle and green willow. The Levites chanted the group of festive psalms called the great Hallel; and the multitude, keep-ing time with the refrain, vigorously waved the fruit and palm branch in token of joyfulness and triumph. The officiating priest carried a golden ewer, and at the pool of Siloe he filled it with water to carry back to the altar of holo-causts. This liturgical act was both a commemorative symbol and a dramatized hope. It recalled the miraculous water that gushed forth from the rock of Horeb beneath the rod of Moses, and it was a figure of the outpouring of graces proper to Messianic times. As the celebrant drew the water of Siloe, the choir repeated the verse of Isaiah: "You shall draw water with joy out of the Saviour's fountains" [12:3), a verse which refers to the blessings promised for the days of the Messiah. This symbol of a spring bursting forth and of water flowing from a fountain was well known to those present, for it is one of the most frequent in the Bible; and in a land afflicted by drought and water scarcity, it was a readily understood symbol of divine blessings. Accordingly, the miraculous event in the desert, when Moses struck the rock with his rod and water gushed forth, was remembered with gratitude in the people's liturgical ceremonies. Moses himself had prayed before the Ark of the Covenant: "O Lord God, hear the cry of this people and open to them thy treasures, a fountain of living water, that being satisfied they may cease to murmur" (Num 20:6). In this text and elsewhere in Scripture "living water" is water flowing from a spring as opposed to the stagnant water of cisterns. It was this symbol of living waters that the prophets used to signify divine blessings. Jeremiah even calls God the fountain of living waters: "For my people have done two evils. They have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and have digged to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water" (Jer 2:13). In the last part of the book of Ezekiel, the prophet describes the vision of the holy waters issuing from all sides of the Temple. The desert through which they flow becomes extremely fertile; the trees on their banks have healing power and bear fresh fruit January, 1960 LIVING WATERS monthly. Such is the virtue and dynamism of Yahweh's holy presence in the Temple that it radiates0grace and blessings over the land. Zechariah, too., in speakingof the time of the Messiah, remarks: "In that day there shall be a fountain open to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem" (Zech 13:1). The prophets, then, looked on water poured out upon parched land as an image of the new spirit that was to be characteristic of the time of salvation. In .the words of Isaiah: "I will pour out waters upon the thirsty ground, and streams upon the dry land; I will pour out my spirit upon thy seed, and blessing upon thy stock" (Is 44:3). In these texts we see some examples of how the blessings of God and the future blessings of the Messianic era are portrayed under the symbol of living waters, and the passages provide some introduction to the scene in Jerusalem on the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles. After the drawing of the water the procession wended its way up the slope from the pool of Siloe, the officiating priest carry-ing the golden pitcher of water, the Levites chanting psalms, and the crowd singing the refrain. As the procession approached the temple, the people became more enthusiastic, shouting out their response of Hallelu-Yah--Praise Yahweh--with ever greater vehe-mence. It wasin this way that they manifested their deep-felt conviction that Yahweh was their own God who had brought them out of the land of Egypt and had led them safely through the desert. The procession went up to the altar of holocausts just at the moment when the parts of the victim immolated that day were being placed upon it. The priest was greeted by the sacred trumpets and was met at the altar by another priest carrying the wine for the libations. While the people continued their enthusiastic shout-ing, the two pitchers were emptied into conduits that led to the foot of the altar. By this libation it was intended to thank God for the two occasions when He made water flow from a rock to satisfy the thirst of His people in the wilderness. By the same rite the attention of the people was directed to the Messianic promise of living waters and also to the expectation of the fulfillment of the promise which was symbolically signified. For the people were expecting a Messiah who would bring salvation and who was to be another Moses. When the liturgical rite was finished and the singing ended, a silence descended over the throng. Our Lord, who had been 7 FREDERICK POWER Rewew for Rehgmus present among the crowd, now took advantage of this opportunity to reveal His true mission. Mounting a step he cried out to the Jewish people: "If anyone thirst, let him come to me and drink; he who believes in me, as the Scripture says, 'From his heart there shall flow rivers of living water.' " By these words He revealed Himself as the one in whom all the abundant graces of the Messianic period are to be found, the object of the Messianic expectation, the Messiah himself. He is the rock from which the water of life flows; indeed, He is the fountain itself. He is the spring from which anyone who thirsts may quench his thirst. The effect of faith in Him would be the reception and communication of living water. This text requires the explanation of two important points. First, the text as a whole has been interpreted in two ways: that the fountain of living water flows from the one who believes in Christ, or that the fountain flows from Christ, the one in whom we believe. The Holy Father understands the text in the second way in his encyclical; this use, without doubt, holds the richest and profoundest sense, one more in agreement with the Old Testament prophecies given above. It is also more in agreement with the theology of St. John. Secondly, an explanation must be given for the use of the word heart in the text. The Latin edition of the encyclical follows the Vulgate version of the text, the literal translation of which would be: "Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." The Latin phrase used is de ventre eius, which literally means "out of his belly." This translation would also be a literal trans-lation of the Greek and Aramaic versions of the text. The trans-lation, however, would not be a correct interpretation of the idea intended. Those who are experts in the Aramaic language agree that for the Hebrews the viscera or the belly was regarded as the seat of the emotions in the same way as we regard the heart. Accordingly a proper translation of the phrase used by our Lord would be "from his heart." Such a translation, though not a literal one, is the proper way to express the idea in terms we understand today. It is what our Lord meant, though He expressed it in the idiom of His own day. It is with this understanding that authorities place this text among the fundamental texts of Scrip-ture regarding devotion to the Sacred Heart. On this occasion of our Lord's revelation of His Sacred Heart, He appeals to Scripture as being fulfilled in His person. He does not refer to one particular text but rather to that whole class of January, 1960 LIVING WATER~ texts from the Old Testament which we considered earlier. The people who heard these ~o.~s could take only one meaning: The man before them was definitely claiming the fulfillment of these prophecies in Himself; He was claiming it and at the same time promising untold blessings to those who would recognize this claim. Certainly St. John is impressed by the words, for he pauses to comment upon them. He tells us that they were prophetic and that they were fulfilled in the final glory of our Lord whicb, for ~John, is our Lord's passion, death, and subsequent transfiguration: "He said this, however, of the Spirit whom they who believed in~ Him were to receive; for the Spirit had not yet been given, seeing that Jesus had not yet been glorified" (Jn 7:39). The Spirit here means the Holy Spirit and includes the abundance of Mes-sianic goods and the gifts of redemption which the Holy Spirit brings to those who believe in Christ. But before the living water would flow, Christ had to be glorified; this was a condition that had yet to be fulfilled. That our Lord's glory was concerned with His passion is seen in His priestly prayer after the Last Supper: "Father, the hour has come! Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may glorify thee, even as thou has given him power over all flesh, in order that to all ,that thou hast given him he may give everlasting life" (Jn 17:2). By sacrificing Himself the Redeemer would cause the Spirit to flow and to open up the "fountain of living water." And this would happen when at the death of the Messiah His Heart would be pierced ~with a lance. The life-giving power of the living waters would find its source in the Blood of Christ as it gushed forth from the wounded Heart of Christ. It is, however, necessary to make here some distinctions between the piercing of Christ's side and the pouring forth of the Holy Spirit. The piercing is not of the same nature as the visible mission of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. Nevertheless there is an ancient tradition, attested to among others by St. Augustine, that the Church was born from the pierced side of Christ. As Eve was taken from the side of the sleeping Adam, so also the Spouse of Christ, the Church, sprang from the pierced side of the dead Christ, the new Adam in His sleep of death being the source of the new Eve, the Church. And this Church is the Mystical Body of Christ whose soul is the Holy Spirit. FREDERICK POWER Review for Religious That the living waters promised to those who believe in Christ spring from the pierced side of the dead Saviour is also attested to by the common interpretation that for John the water and blood are signs of the sacraments of Baptism and the Holy Eucharist. In his encyclical Plus XII puts it this way: "From this wounded Heart the grace of the sacraments, from which the children of the Church draw supernatural life, flowed most pro-fusely . " And the Holy Spirit is included in the sacrament of Baptism, for the new birth to be effected by Baptism is brought about by "water and the Spirit" as our Lord told Nic~demus. So it is that the prediction of John in Chapter 7 concerning the flowing rivers to come after Christ's glorification was fulfilled when on the cross a soldier "opened his side with a lance, and immediately there came out blood and water" (Jn 19:34). The streams of blood and water are certain signs that now have been fulfilled the Scriptural prophecies of Messianic grace. Now the living water has begun to flow; now the Spirit is given, but only in blood; grace is given but only from the pierced Heart on the cross. Unless the spiritual rock that is Christ had been struck, the waters would nol~ have ~ome forth. And John in his Gospel insists that this incident of the soldier declining to break our Lord's legs and instead opening His side was a momentous event. He emphasizes his own role as an eye-witness of the event: "And he who saw it has borne witness, and his witness is true: and he knows that he tells the truth, that you also may believe" (Jn 19:35). And he puts further emphasis on the event by telling us that by it two prophecies were fulfilled: "Not a bone of him shall you break," and "They shall look upon. him whom they have pierced." The first of these prophecies speaks of the paschal lamb. Now in the concluding events of the passion of Christ it is fully revealed that Christ is the true Lamb of God; accordingly none of His bones were broken. This symbol of the Lamb recalls the mag-nificent theology of the Apocalypse concerning the "Lamb who was slain" (Apoc 5:12). In the Lamb we see the Old Testament prophecies of the Messiah who suffers 'and is glorified in His sufferings: "The Lamb . . . is the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings" (Apoc 17:14). The redeemed are the "bride, the spouse of the Lamb" (Apoc 21:9). In the blood of this Lamb the faithful are able to be cleansed--to be filled with the living waters of the Spirit. And from the fact that the rivers flow forth from the 10 January, 1960 LIVING WATERS wounded Heart of the Lamb, we are led to those passages in the Apocalypse which depict the fulfillment of the prophecies of Isaiah and Ezekiel: "For the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them, and will guide them to the fountains of the waters of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes" (Apoc 7:17); ". he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming forth from the throne of God and of the Lamb" (Apoc 22:1). Thus the act of redemption is enshrined, as it were, in a celestial garden and the redeemed are forever made joyous at the Saviour's fountains. The second prophecy, which is concerned with the piercing of our Lord's side, is from Zechariah: "And I will pour out upon the house of David and upon Jerusalem the spirit of grace and of prayers: and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced and they shall mourn for him as one mourneth for an only son" (Zech 12:10). In this passage God speaks about Himself. As man, He will be the first-born, one for whom they mourn and weep and at whom they gaze although they have pierced Him. God Himself in His human nature brings about the redemption and is the one who gives the living water of the Spirit. He pours forth the Spirit at the moment when the lance opens His Heart. At that moment the Spirit begins to flow and the Messianic work will be prolonged to the end of time when Jesus will come again in glory. In the words of the Apocalypse: "Behold, he comes with the clouds, and every eye shall see him, and they also who pierced him" (Apoc 1:7). Our Lord, then, standing above the throng gathered for the Feast of the Tabernacles, revealed Himself as the long awaited Messiah, the rock of salvation, the fountainhead of all the bless-ings of the Messianic times. For the most part, He was not ac-cepted. A few believed in Him, so John tells us, but only a few. For He is the "stone which the builders rejected." But He is also the rock which will be struck anew for the salvation of the newly chosen people. He will give of His sub-stance to give birth to the new people that He will acquire for Himself. From His pierced side will spring the fountain of eternal life, the rivers of living waters, the Spirit of love, the Church, the new Jerusalem, Baptism and the other sacraments, all the graces of the "last days." The Litany of the Sacred Heart sums it all up in the invocation: "Heart of Jesus, fountain of life and holiness." 11 A Catechism on Obedience of Judgment Paul W. O'Brien, S. J. QWhat are the necessary presuppositions for every act of obedience? A. That the superior has authority and that what he commands is not certainly sinful. Q. Could the superior sin while commanding something not sinful? A. Yes, through sinful motives, for example, envy, injustice, or serious imprudence. Q. What is the formal motive of obedience? A. Authority. Q. Is obedience an act of the will or intellect? A. Obedience of the will is an act of the will; obedience of judgment is formally an act of the intellect, but like faith, is commanded by the will. Q. What is obedience of judgment? A. The conforming of my judgment to the judgment of the superior-because he has authority. Q. To what judgment do I conform? A. Not necessarily to his theoretical (speculative)judgment, that is, something to believe, but to his practical judgment, that is, something to do. The Abbot John did not have to believe that the dry stick would grow into a tree; he had only to believe that God wanted him to water it (for His own mysterious reasons). Q. How would you express this practical judgment? A. Given the order of the superior, I must judge that this is what God wants done (that is, God sanctions with His authority the perhaps mistaken decision of my superior) and that it is best according to the ultimate mysterious plan of God (not necessarily best for the immediate purpose intended by the superior). Q. When I cannot agree with the speculative judgment of the superior and must carry out his practical judgment, how should I obey? A. Not just materially, by merely executing the order (and in such a way as to sabotage the project, emphasizing and dis- 12 O[~EDIENCE OF JUDGMENT playing the weakness of the order, proving the superior wrong); but loyally entering into his, views (without blinding myself to his error), covering up its weaknesses before the public, trying my best to make it succeed. Q. Should I judge the order of the superior to be the will of God because of the reasons of the superior? A. No, but only because he has authority. Q. Then obedience of judgment does not imply that I agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, it does not imply this. Q. Is it possible to have perfect obedience of judgment and the firm assurance that the superior's order is the will of God for me, while still hesitating over the reasons of the superior? A. Yes. Obedience is specified by authority, not by reasons. Q. Will my obedience of judgment be more perfect in propor-tion as I bring myself into agreement with the reasons of the superior? A. No, though the desire to agree will indicate a more perfect disposition. Q. Then why try to make my reasons agree with the reasons of the superior? A. It helps remove the psychological obstacles to obedience of judgment and chiefly of execution. It is easier to act if humanly speaking I agree with the policy. It is the proper disposition in the face of God's representative. Q. Do I suspend my act of perfect obedience of judgment while I am trying to bring myself to agree with the reasons of the superior? A. No, no more than you suspend your act of faith while you study your catechism or theology. Q. When I have brought myself to agree with all the reasons of the superior, do I have more assurance of doing God's will? A. No. The security that comes from authority (in the line of faith) will always be sufficient and greater than that which comes from the weight of human reasons. (Actually both the superior and I may be agreeing in wrong reasons.) Q. What is "blind obedience"? A. Supposing the two presuppositions of all obedience, I blind myself to the qualities and reasons of my superior, that is, I exclude the consideration of these reasons and motivate my obedi-ence by authority alone. Q. What is the difference between obedience of judgment and 13 PAUL W. O'BRIEN blind obedience? A. There is no difference in the act of obedience. But while obedience of judgment merely states the fact, blind obedience connotes the approach: the exclusion of the consideration of the reasons. Q. Is blind obedience a help to obedience of judgment? A. Yes. It makes obedience of judgment easier and safer for though I could have perfect obedience of judgment while consider-ing, and even while rejecting the reasons, still it is much easier to by-pass these reasons and look simply to authority. Q. Is blind obedience always better? A. No. Even though easier and safer, it is often good and sometimes necessary to consider the reasons of the superior (even while excluding them from the motivation of obedience), for they may: (a) help me to profit by the experience of my elders, (b) enlighten me on the spirit of my community, (c) be necessary to relieve psychological blocks to action, (d) be necessary for the understanding of the mind of the superior in view of carrying out his order more intelligently. Q. What should be my attitude toward the reasons of the superior? A. I should be well-disposed towards them. They are given to help me. I should use them as far as they help. If they trouble me, I should prescind from them and practice blind obedience, But even while using them, I should keep them in second place and unite myself to God through authority. 14 The Theology of Religious Women Yves M.-J. Congar, 0. P. This article was a conference given July 10, 1958, to a convention of French priests charged with the care of religious women. It will ~ppear as a chapter in a book to be entitled Le r61e de la religieuse dans l'Eglise (Paris: Cerf, 1960), a volume in the series Probl~mes de la religieuse d'aujourdhui. The article was first printed in Suppldment de la Vie Spirituelle (1959), 316:42. The present translation is by John E. Becker, S.J. Basic Notions: The Church and the World THE WORLD was set on,its way reality by the creative act. Its story is humanity s quest atos, ,ba e fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen 1:28). For all practical pur-poses, the world, the temporal, history, the drive to civilize are equivalent ideas; the reality they have in common is the effort of man to perfect himself by subjecting, for his advantage, the re-sources inherent in himself and in material creation. And this effort has a direction, a direction which is completely dependent on the facts of Adam's existence: he was at one and the same time both image of God and sinner. As Tennyson said very well, it is only at the end of this great adventure that one can say that man is complete. The Church is something other than this inherent movement of the world or of history even if, as is the case, she envelops it and Ultimately guarantees it. For she does not emerge out of the resources deposited within the first creation. She is placed in the realm of reality by a new initiative of God, properly supernatural, that is to say, an initiative in which God commits and gives Himself (this is the meaning of grace). She is an order of sanctity and sanctification positively instituted from above, a creation of the divine positive law issuing from the priestly, prophetic, and redemptive kingship of Christ. Still she has her existence and, as it were, her proper stability within human societies. Divine insti-tution that she is, she herself creates and shapes according to her needs and her spirit institutional forms proper to herself. On the other hand, the Church is not made to be an end in herself. She is made for God and for the world -- even for the world, to save it by the grace which God has given her to dispense: 15 YvEs M -J CONGAR Rewew for Rehgmus "In it [the faith of the Church] is contained union with Christ.''1 The Church is a new creation of God, and a supernatural one; but she has a mission in and for the world. This mission consists in two things: first, to convert men by making them disciples, that is to say by bringing them into herself, giving them in this way the regeneration of a second birth; and then to sanctify them by communicating to them the grace of the Lord, by forgiving their sins, and by teaching them to conform their lives to the holy and sanctifying will of God;2 second, to operate within temporal life itself in order that in accordance with God's plan it may be directed and oriented towards God to the fullest possible extent. The Church here reveals especially the healing power of grace which, by giv-ing back to nature her primitive orientation, conforms her to the will and to the image of God while at the same time restoring her t'o herself. The Church seeks, by all sorts of initiatives and under-takings, to remold the world according to the plan of God, which is neither the pursuit of self nor the pursuit of power nor egoistic hardness of heart, but on the contrary, service, brotherhood, justice, peace, communion, sharing, helping the poorest, combating all the degrading miseries of body and soul. This is why, from one end to the other of her history and growth, the Church has created ministries inspired by charity. Some of them, more involved with the work of the world and its battles, such as the fight for social justice, are more the role of the laymen within her whom she forms and inspires for this work. Others, more strictly pertinent to her spiritual nature and to her primary office of sanctification, can remain more properly eccle-siastical ministries; such is the case in particular with the corporal works of mercy or the spiritual works such as teaching. "As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me" (Mt 25:40). Basic Notions: The Church in Herself One can consider the Church as the great sacrament of salva-tion and distinguish in her two aspects. She is both the reality of grace or sanctity and she is the means of grace or sanctification: reality and sacrament. Images for comparison are not lacking. However, as with every .image, they are very inadequate, and risk losing through excessive schematization what they gain in clarity. 1St. Ir~naeus, Adversus Haereses, III, 24, 1. ~Mt 28:19-20; Mk 16:15 ft.; Jn 3:3 ft.; 20:21 ff.; Col 1:13; etc. 16 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN For example, the Church as a holy reality may be considered to be. a tower or a temple; as a means of. sanctification, to have the instrumental power of a pick, a mining car, a windlass, a scaffold, and all of those things which are necessary ~to bring the rough stone from the mines to the finished building where each has its place and its proper finish (see the hymn for the dedication of a church). Does not St. Augustine distinguish the "society of the sacraments" and the "society of the saints," the former being ordered to the latter? Does he not also write: "The architect builds a permanent edifice with temporary machinery"?'~ To see in the Church the holiness already rooted in souls is not only to consider the depths of her life, it is to see in her that which will always be. "Charity never passes away" (1 Cor 13:8). To live through charity the life of holiness is really to live as a citizen of the eternal and heavenly City of God. In heaven, one might say, there will be nothing else but that. That city knows no hierarchy other than that of holiness or of love. The Virgin Mary is at its pinnacle. In the Church of this world she had neither a function nor a hierarchical dignity. It could readily be said of her that she was a member, the first member, of the laity if there were not the danger of belying by this way of speaking her per-fection as a consecrated member of the faithful. Mgr. Journet says well, following St. Thomas, that the Virgin Mary has per-fectly achieved the highest holiness, not the highest hierarchical dignity.~ She is-the type, or better, the perfect personification of the Church, but of the Church as final end, not as means. Mary is the "eschatological eikon of the Church.''~ That which in the Church is "sacrament" in the wide sense of the word -- instrument or means of grace -- is as such related to her as a wayfarer. This is true in the first place of her sacraments properly speaking, but also of her dogmatic formulas, of her organizations, and of her ecclesiastical hierarchy which has the care of all these matters. If it were necessary to point out a type or a personification of the Church here, it would not be the Virgin Mary but rather the Apostle Peter. But this would be to consider 3Sermo 362, 7 (Patrologia Latina, 39, 1615). 4St. Thomas, In I Sent., d. 16, q. 1, a. 2, ad 4; Summa Theologiae, 3, 27, 5, ad 3; Albert the Great, In IV Sent., d. 19, a. 7; Charles Journet, L'Eglise du Verbe incarnd, 2 (Paris, 1951), 422; 441; 456, note 2. ~This striking expression is from L. Bouyer, Le culte de la M~re de Dieu (Chevetogne, 1950), 33; Le trSne de la sagesse (Paris, 1957), 188. See also O. Semmelroth, Die Kirche als Ursakrament (Frankfort, 1951), 176-85. A beautifu] and rich meditation on the theme of Mary as perfect spiritual type of the Church is to be found in H. Rahner, Marie et ~'Eglise (Paris, 1955). 17 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious only one part of the reality, to reduce the power of the Church as means of grace or of sanctification to "institutions" alone. But as a matter of fact the whole life of the Church in time is a means of grace tending to produce that interior fruit of holiness which will always remain. Still, if the distinction which we have proposed is valid -- it is a classical one -- it is very necessary to guard against pushing it to the point of separation or disjunction. The Church in the concrete, the existential Church on earth is at the same time both means of sanctification and sanctity. In terms of the image used above, we should say that she is at the same time the building and the construction works by which she is built; or, using another image, she is the ear of wheat, full of the grain of which the host will be made, and at the same time the root and stem necessary to bear and nourish the wheat until the harvest time. This is why in the Church holiness and means of sanctification interpenetrate. The sacraments are holy; but also the reality of the interior holiness of the members is a powerful means of leading other members and the whole body either to conversion or to greater holiness. There is a spiritual mothering of holiness, or, if holiness seems too broad, of the life of faith, of prayer, and of charity; and perhaps this mothering is too little studied, theoretically undervalued in the Church, even though it is extremely real, a factor of everyday life. We shall return to this point later. It would also be inexact to make a complete separation be-tween holiness and visibility. Holiness manifests itself. It is even a "note" of the Church, that is to say a mark which "notifies" and permits the true Church to be recognized. As instigator and end of all the visible works of the Church, terminus and interior direction of all the instrumentality of grace, intimate soul of all the historical life of the Church, holiness gathers all of these func-tions together to constitute that sign of the Kingdom of God which the Church must be for the world. During His earthly life, Jesus made men sensible of the approach of the Kingdom of God and unveiled something of its proper mystery by "signs" just as He opened up the ways of the Good News in parables. After the Ascension of the Lord, it is the Church which by the grace of Pentecost is the sign for the world. But the different manifesta-tions of her historical life are signs of the Kingdom of God, signs of the charity of Christ, only because they incorporate and radiate holiness. Otherwise they might be signs of power, of legal right, even of greatness; they would not be signs of the Kingdom of God 18 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN and of the charity of Christ. They would not draw the world to the faith. Basic Notions: Religious Life The Church is a body which is organic, organized, and.there-fore composed of different elements. She embraces the infinity of individual differences which are the foundation of the gifts, altogether interior ~and spiritual or exterior and public, of each one: what a variety among men, what a variety in the world of the saints! All this is the rainbow of grace. But there are also larger differences in the Church, delimited categories, groups charac-terized by a particular social structure, even constituted as such by law. These are those major differences of condition which affect Christian life in that profound and permanent as well as public and manifest way by reason of which one may speak of them as states. Christian antiquity and the Middle Ages used the expression orders for any group, and the encyc.lical Mystici corporis of June 29, 1943, reintroduced this idea into its broad theology of the Church as the Body of Christ. Once more it speaks, for example, of the "order of the laity.''~ The fathers spoke of the order of preachers or of prelates, the order of clerics, of monks, of virgins, of the continent, of widows, of deaconesses, of married people. If we consider only the most general divisions of states in the Church, we find ourselves faced with a double distinction, that between clerics and the laity, and another between seculars and regulars or religious (see below, note 50). If we recall what was said above about the Church, we will be able to relate the first distinction more to that ~aspect according to which the Church is means of sanctification, since this difference is between the simple members of the people of God and those members who are destined to exercise some sacred function and are endowed with powers appropriate to the prac.tical application of the means of grace. The second distinction pertains more to the aspect of the Church according to which she is a mystery of holiness; for the "state of perfection," even though it is a means of sanctification, is nor-mally an approach towards a more perfect life in Christ. In both cases, the state ~or particular ecclesiastical position of the cleric and of the regular is a deprivation of the greater liberty legiti-mately given those in the world in view of their conditio.n of life and .activity in the world; the purpose of this deprivation is the better service of God, whether this be more on the plane of per- SActa Apostolicae Sedis, 35 [1943), 200-01. 19 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sonal spiritual life (religious life) or more on the plane of admin-istering the Church's means of sanctification (clerical, priestly state). It would be superfluous to spend time here defining religious life. Let us recall merely the simple and vigorous manner in which St. Thomas Aquinas characterized it in relation to the Christian life of the simple faithful.7 Each member of the faithful is com-mitted by his baptism, to renounce sin as well as Satan and his temptations. By religious profession, a Christian man or woman commits himself to renounce the world as the context of his life in order to belong more entirely, more definitively to God and to His work; for the world is an ambiguous milieu to live in; it is full of occasions of evil; it is engrossing, distracting, and filled with demands which hinder one from belonging to God completely and of temptations which turn one away from Him. This is why it is essential to the religious life, not only to detach oneself from the earthly and to consecrate oneself to God by vows, but through the rule to separate oneself from the conditions of life in the world. A point of view less individual and more ecclesiological might present the same realities in the following way.s The difference between religious and the simple faithful need not be viewed as a difference between the consecrated and the non-consecrated. This opposition exists, of course; but it should be located between the Church and the world, between the people of God and those who are not, between Christians and non-Christians (see 1 Pet 2:10). In the people of God as such, in the Body of Christ, all is sacred. The faithful are consecrated; their whole life as Christians, in so far as it is Christian, is sacred, not profane. All that religious can ambition is to be more consistently, more integrally Christian, and to embrace more perfect means toward this end." Laymen, or the ordinary faithful, live in the world. It is their precise charac-teristic to serve God in the way that is determined by their natural mission into the world.~° But the world is something other than 7Contra impugnantes religionem, c. 1. 8We employ here a suggestion of R. Carpentier, S.J. in his Life in the City o[ God: An Introduction to the Religious Life (New York, 1959). Compare the same author's "Les instituts s~culiers," Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 77 (1955), 408-12, in particular, 409, 411. ~Since Dom G. Morin's L'iddal monastique et la vie chrdtienne des premiers jours (Maredsous, 1912), it is better known that religious life is merely the Christian life more fully expressed. 1°There is more and more agreement on this positive and theological definition of the lay state: Y. M.-J. Congar, "Qu'est-ce qu'un laic?" Suppld-ment de la Vie Spirituelle, 1950, 363-92; this article is the first chapter in the same author's Lay People in the Church Westminster, 1957). See also K. 2O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the Church. If the Church has its inner consistency and its proper demands, the world has too, Even prescinding from the ambiguity inherent in the enterprises of men and in the tendency toward sin which adheres to the tissue of the world, it is still necessary to render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's. For this reason even those laymen who seek only to love and serve God, whose personal lives are surrendered to God, and whose hearts are wholly intent upon Him find it difficult to exert themselves and to carve out their way in that world, a world which is not surrendered to God. "And he is divided" (1 Cor 7:33-34). The life of the Christian in the world is, unhappily, a divided one. The religious is the Christian who, in the desire to belong totally and irrevocably to God,~ leaves the world and enters a life built up and organized for the service of God, something which the world is not. The religious life in so far as it is a social frame-work for living is actually a creation of the Church for the pur-poses of the Church -- the service of God, Throughout the len.gth of her history.the Church has striven to achieve through religious life that which she tried to do as soon as she entered the world" by the grace of Pentecost; it was something that had been tried' be-fore her, for example in the monasticism of the Essenes on the shores of the Dead Sea. Her aim has been to constitute a way of life which responds perfectly, even as a social or juridical structure, to the communal and fraternal demands of the Gospel and which allows one to be at the exclusive service of God. In fact, through-out the whole history of the religious life one finds references back to the tentative attempt at communal living in the primitive Church at Jerusalem.~- Moreover, it is by expressl.y referring to Rahner, "L'apostolat des la~cs" in Nouvelle Revue Thdologique, 78 (1956), 3-32; a digest of this article may be found in Theology Digest, 5 (1957-58), 73-79. ~St. Thomas: "So that he may not turn back" (Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 186, 6, ad 1; see also Contra Gentiles, 3, 131). l~See Acts 2:44 and 4:32. Some references on this point are: F~r St. Pach-omius see L.Th. Lefort, Les vies coptes de saint Pach6me et de ses premiers successeurs [Louvain, 1943), 3, 30, and 65, 25; for St. Basil, see his Regulae brevius tractatae, int. 148, 187 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 1180 and 1208) as well as his Regulae [usius tractatae, int. 7 (Patrologia Graeca, 31, 933); for St. Augustine see his En~arrationes in Psalmos, 132, 2 (Patrologia Latina, 37, 1729 ff.), his Sermo 355 and 356 De vita et moribus clericorurn suorum ( Patrologia Latina, 39, 1568 ff.), his De opere monachorum (C.S.E.L., 41, 529 ft.), his Regula (see below, note 21), and A. Zumkeller's Das M6nchtum des hl. Augus-tinus (Wiirzburg, 1950), 129 ft.; for St. Ambrose Autpert, see his In Cant. (Bibl. Max. Patrum, 13, 442); for St. Odo of Cluny, see his Occupatio 6 (Patrologia Latina, 133, 572) and J. Leclercq's "L'id~al monastique de saint Odon d'apr~s ses oeuvres," in A Cluny. Congrbs scientifique, 1949, 227 ff.; for St. Peter Damian, see his Opusculum 24, Contra clericos regulares proprietarios (Patrologia Latina, 145, 482-90). From the time of the reform 21 YvEs M.-J. CONGAR Review [or Religious this historical archetype that all reforms, all renewals of the religious life have been carried out. The "type" of Jerusalem, the City of Peace, the city "where all together make one body" (Ps 122:3), the place of God's habitation, has always been, for the various institutes of religious life, a kind of ideal, or "myth" in $orel's sense of the word. The religious life is a kind of earthly anticipation of the City of God. The chief forms of the religious life derive, even in those things which differentiate them, from the following principle com-mon to all: The religious life is a total consecration which is carridd out on the social level and publicly approved by the Church and which aims at the pursuit of the perfection of charity on the basis of a renouncement of that which hinders this totality, and this renouncement is made in such a way as to close to oneself the possibility of turning back. Within the bounds of this essential principle common to all, religious institutes differ from one another according to that pre-. eminent work of charity to which each one specifically devotes itself. A first overall distinction arises, for this reason, between institutes vowed to the service of the love of God alone, in Him-self, and immediately -- the contemplative life, monasticism, the eremetical life -- and institutes vowed to the service of the love of God in the exterior exercise of love and of service to the neigh-bor -- institutes specifically vowed to the works of mercy, corporal (hospitals), or spiritual (teaching), or the two together (the greater part of the missionary congregations).13 Contemplatives or monks also contribute to the salvation of the world, but only from above and in the context of the mystery of the Communion of Saints, from which comes in its secret forms that spiritual maternity which we have already mentioned and to which we shall return. From the point of view of effective activity they seem to leave the world to its damnation.Nevertheless, this is a historical fact: it is the monks who have made Christianity; of the llth and 12th centuries the references 'to Acts increase; see the studies of Ch. Dereine and others. See also J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948), 82-108. M.-D. Chenu, La thdologie au xii'~ si~cle (Paris, 1957), 227 ff. 13As is well known there exists a third category, that of the apostolic life, which is sometimes given the strange and little justified name of the "mixed life." In this life the superexcellent work of charity is identical with that of that agape which implies service, self-giving, apostolate, mission. It implies living in the light of faith and love to the extent of communicating them to others by means of the apostolate. But this apostolic life is almost exclusively reserved to men; and in its fullness it demands the priesthood of the Gospels. 22 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN monasticism has been --it is still, it will continue to be in the future -- preeminently the educator who teaches men not only what it is to be a Christian, but also what it is.to be human. In this way it has been the creator of much that is beautiful. It is impossible to accept grace without its showing its healing power, impossible to seek first the Kingdom of God without all these other things being added on besides (Mt 6:33; Lk 12:31). Religious devoted to the works of mercy enter into the torrent of the world to perform the work of rescue. They participate more strictly than the monks in that which in the Church is not only repose in God but also anxiety for and with men; they participate in the Church not only as a harbor of grace and the inn of the good Samaritan, but as an effective rescue service with the difficult commitment to heal the wounded on a road infested with robbers. In the duality of the Church and of the world, the monks represent essentially the distinction or opposition of the two. The Church is not of the world; and in her monks she says to it: "Do not touch me!" But the duality of the Church and of the world is not only distinction and opposition, it is also a kind of coupling; it implies a dialectical and dramatic point of contact. Not only do the Church and the world coexist in the time between Eden and the Kingdom, they exist in a certain way one with the other and one for the other. The world is, for the Church, not only~ the quarry from which she gets her stones, but also a necessary partner in a dialogue, or better, a sort of separated partner, who opposes and tests her, but with whom she must remain joined in order to try to save it. The Church is different from the world, she is grace and salvation. But in the interim between Easter and the second coming, which is her time of wayfaring and of labor, she is joined to the world as the good Samaritan was to his wounded stranger while he lifted him up and carried him, or as a lifeguard is joined to the drowning person whom he attempts to bring to the shore.~ Basic Notions: The Role of Woman in the Church One can scarcely speak of the laws of God's work, for he would thus risk giving the meaning that rules are imposed upon God extrinsically and as necessities. But one may speak of con-stants which the work itself reveals to us. And one of these constants seems to be procedure by pairs or complementary polarities. The study of tradition throughout Scripture, the fathers, and ancient ~On this point read G. Bernanos, La libertd, pourquoi faire? (Paris, 1953), 267-69; and see H. Urs yon Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos (Paris, 1956), 217. 23 YVES M~-J. CONGAR Review for Religious texts and records, has convinced us more and more that this idea has played a very great role in Christian thought and institutions.~5 Among these unified dualities or complementary polarities, the first is without doubt the division of humanity into man and woman. It reappears in the Church, with the reservation that will be noted later. It is the reason that today's relatively numerous studies of "the second sex" have their counterparts, frequently stimulating ones, in Christian publications which attempt to de-termine the particular role and assets of women and hence of religious women in the Church.~ This role and these assets are connected with these larger values: a) Woman stands for receiving, welcoming, consenting; she is the "spiritual vessel." To speak of passivity would be not quite exact; receptivity is vital and active. Recall the "fiat" of the Virgin Mary, the prototype of acceptance and of the faithfulness of the Church before the God who comes, calls, asks. b) It is also said of the Virgin that "she kept all things in her heart." Man has the initiative in producing life. Woman creates for it a milieu that is intimate and warm, a home. In the home she embodies that humble faithfulness which conserves, waits, wel-comes. Man is devoted to the risks of conflict on the outside; he is the victim of its aggression; he suffers change. But thanks to his wife he has a home where he can recover intact his better self, his inner self: the freshness and poetry of love, the faithfulness to memory and to conscience, the delicacy of attention and of care.'7 Man is specialized by work and by action. Woman is nearer 15The following examples have been chosen at random and hurriedly; nevertheless the meaning and the relationships of this theme of "pairs" were a matter of profound experience in the consciousness and texts of the ancients; they will be understood better if one keeps in mind the duality in unity which is at the basis of all the examples: Man and woman, soul and body, the two sides of the body (two eyes, two hands, etc.), sky and earth, sun and moon (the "two luminaries"), the two powers, pope and emperor, the two witnesses Peter and Paul, Moses and Elias, law and grace, the Church of the Jews and the Church of the Gentiles, head and body, Scripture and tradition, baptism and confirmation [Christ and the Holy ~pirit), com-munion under two species, the two columns of the temple of Jerusalem, the two cherubim of the Ark, etc. ~6For studies by Catholics see Gertrud von Lefort, Die ewige Frau ~Munich, 1935); Maura BSckeler, Das grosse Zeichen. Die Frau als Symbol g6ttlicher Wirklichkeit (Salzburg, 1941); D'Eve tt Marie, ou le destin de la Femme in L'Anneau d'or, 1954; F.J.J. Buytendijk, La femme, ses modes d'etre, de paratt)'e et d'exister (Paris, 1957). A Protestant study is Ch. von Kirschbaum's Die wirkliche Frau (Zurich, 1949). A Greek Orthodox study is: Paul Evdo-kimov, La femme et le salut du monde. Etude d'anthropologie chrdtient~e sur les charismes de la [emme (Paris, 1958). ~TThis role of woman is well illustrated in novels such as the following: Sigrid Undset, Kristin Lavransdatter: Elizabeth Goudge, Green Dolphin Street; A. J. Cronin, Th~ Citadel. See also Alice Oll~-Laprune, Liens immortels. 24 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN to the sources of life and of elementary realities, more humbly given over to daily occupations. She has also an instinctive sensi-bility which allows her to grasp things in a more concrete, simpler, more comprehensive fashion, to see things as wholes. She gives herself more simply, and perhaps more irrevocably, in committing herself more thoroughly and totally to these things. In this total commitment of woman there is a value attested to by experience which is expressed remarkably well in the con-secration of religious women. This consecration, for the faithful and even for the priesthood, stands as a kind of oasis, a reserve storehouse of the simple life, of total, unsophisticated faith; it stands for homesteads of inviolate faithfulness softened by a gentle delicacy. There are here, along with a beehive's thrifty efficiency, treasure houses of devotedness and all the strength of an abnegation that is without ambition or defense. We will not delay on this longer because we are not sure that this precisely feminine element is so very important in the religious life. The religious life would represent in the Church rather that condition in which woman becomes most active,, closest to assum-ing initiatives and activities comparable to those of men. So she proclaims in a special way a superiority over the differences of sex and over the other conditions which divide man in his "life in Christ.''~8 If femininity exists at this level, it is that of the whole Church who is, according to patristic tradition and its develop-ment of the indications of Scripture, the New Eve beside the New Adam, Christ. That which, in the Church, represents Christ as Master, Spouse, and Father, is not the male religious institute; it is the episcopacy and the priesthood. It is easy to relate these facts to that which was said above about the two aspects of the Church: that of goal or of holiness, alongside which religious life has its special place, and that of means, alongside which the dis-tinction between priests and simple faithful has its place. The Role of Religious Woman in the Church The religious life is, in the Church, the highest approximation of the City of God. It is, in the sphere of collective realities, that portion which is nearest to being the fruit of lasting holiness (reality), that which most closely pertains to the Church as "Com-reunion of Saints" and eschatological reality. This is what we shall consider first in itself and then in its inherent value as a sign. ~sSee Gal 3:28; Col 3:11. 25 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious Religious life is first of all for God. It exists in the Church first of all as an area reserved for God. It represents the first fruits and their special worth as tokens of homage and as free gifts. Sometimes, in a corner of the countryside withdrawn from the traffic of men one finds a religious house which, humanly speaking, vegetates. But when one has become a regular visitor to such a community, one discovers that it is accomplishing an onerous duty of praise or of intercession, far from the notice or even the knowl-edge of men. "To what purpose is this waste?" ~Mt 26:8; Mk 14:4) It is the song of the bride meant only for her spouse; it is that part of the Church seen and known to God alone, to the Father "who sees in secret" (Mt 6:4; 6:18). Above and beyond all its external usefulness and all i~s ordination to extrinsic things, religious life remains a realization of the mystery of the Church or of the mystical body. It is im-possible to'emphasize this too much: before one can cooperate in the building up of the outside of the Church which is for others, it is necessary that it be built up within. A religious community is a cell of the Church; better, it is a Church in miniature.'9 It gives flesh to the mystery of the Church. The Rule of St. Augustine begins with these words, whose fulness of meaning and even whose technical validity arise out of the great Augustinian synthesis on the sacrifice of the "City redeemed as one":2° "A primary purpose for which you are gathered together in one community is that you live in the monastery with unanimity, having but one mind and one heart in the service of God.''~' Members join together in re-ligious life first of all to live the life of charity, to give reality to fraternal union according to the spirit of the Gospel. We cannot meditate too much on this truth, without which our communities will be nothing but a lie and a scandal.'-'~ The great lawgivers of ~On this theme see the valuable study of Dom Emmanuel yon Severus, "Das MSnchtum als Kirche," in Enkainia, ed. by H. Emonds (Dusseldorf, 1956), 230-48; also A. deVogu~, "Le monast~re, Eglise du Christ," in Studia Anselmiana, 42 (Rome, 1957), 25-46. ~'See De Civitate Dei, X, cc. 5 and 6. ~Patrologia Latina, 32, 1738. ~To stimulate reflection on this matter, I permit myself to cite here the two following texts which are hateful and terrible, but important: "Monks are people who bunch together without knowing each other, live together without loving each other, and die without regretting each other." ~Voltaire, L'homme aux quarante ~cus, VIII, Oeuvres completes, xxxiv, Paris, 1829, 60). "The love of God serves them as an excuse to love no one; they do not even love one another. Has anyone ever observed rea] friendship among the devout? But the more they detach themselves from men, the more they demand of men; and one could say that they do not raise themselves to God except to exercise his authority on the earth." (J.-J. Rousseau, Nouve~le Hdloise 6th Part, Letter 8). 26 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN the cenobitic life, St. Pachomius and St. Basil, expressly defended the primacy of this life over the anchoritic life on the basis of the fraternal charity and mutual edification (one of the great values in the Gospels) for which it gives the opportunity.~'~ One of the essential articles of the religious life is the achievement of a true fraternal relationship, the condition, complement, and fruit of a true relationship with God. If the Christian is an eschatological man because he is a fellow citizen with the saints, a member of the house of God (Eph 2:19), the monk is all the more truly a Christian. "But our citizenship is in heaven.''24 This is :said and it is true of all the people of God, for they are a people in exile journeying towards their fatherland. We have already received the pledge of the Spirit, the first fruits of our inheritance,2'' but only the pledge and the first fruits. We still live here below subject to the slavery of the flesh and the oppression of the devil, whom our Savior ~calls "the .Prince of this world"; all creation, subject to vanity, groans in the labor of its childbirth hoping for the glorious liberty of the children of God (Rm 8:19-23). The citizens of the heavenly city are, in this life, in the situa-tion of a people occupied by an enemy power. There are those who adjust themselves to it, there are even those who compromise and "collaborate." There are many who do not accept the enemy power, and in the midst of external conditions of servitude, they assert as far as they can their loyalty to their homeland. But some go farther and resist. They escape to the outskirts. There at least they advance With great labor the hour of liberation, they live already a life of liberty and they prepare for everyone the coming of the liberator. If the Church is like the outskirts of the world,'-'~ religious life is so in a more decided way. Religious have left their homes, their parents, their fields, the comforts of normal life, to be unburdened, free to serve the King of the Heavens. They are, by a more meaningful title, the first fruits of the new creation.~7 ~:~See H. Leclercq, "C~nobitisme," in Dictionnaire d'archdologie chrdtienne, II, 2, 3047-3248; 3093 is concerned with Saint Pachomius and 3149-50 with Saint Basil. See also Vie de Pach6me, cc. 3 and 4 in R. Draguet's Les P~res du ddsert (Paris, 1949), 90 ff., and Saint Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae, cc. 7 and 25-31 (Patrologia Graeca, 31,928 and 984 ft'.) and his Letter 295 (Patro-logia Graeca, 32, 1037). See also 0. Rousseau, Monachisme et vie religieuse d'apr~s l'ancienne tradition de l'Eglise (Chevetogne, 1957), 80 ff. 24Phil 3:20; Heb 11:13-16. ~SSee 2 Cor 1:12; Rom 8:1-30; Eph 1:14o ~See Yves M. J. Congar, Lay People in the Church (Westminster, 1957), 101. ~TSee Apoc 14:4, "the first fruits for God and for the Lamb." This idea of 27 YVES M.-J. COUGAR Review for Religious Each religious profession is like a guerilla victory by which the power of the occupying forces is checked; and without doubt Christ contemplates it with the sentiments which he expressed when the seventy-two disciples returned from their mission full of joy that the demons had given way before them: "I was watching Satan fall as lightning from heaven" (Lk 10:18). This idea of the religious life as an eschatological life~8 is fre-quently expressed in monastic tradition by the theme of the angelic life.2~ It is a perfectly valid theme. Whether one actually looks at the religious life under the aspect of virginity or under that of the spiritual marriage, which is fundamentally the same thing, or under the aspect of the perpetual praise of God (see in particular E: Peterson), or under that of the anticipation as far as possible of heavenly life, life in the presence of God, and even if one looks at this life in the details of asceticism such as vigils or fasting -- under all these aspects of religious life the theme of the angelic life is authentic, and we wish in no way to exclude it. We are convinced,, nevertheless, that certain expressions can be very dangerous and ought to be criticized in the name of biblical and Christian truth2° Historically these expressions have been somewhat distorted by influences coming from two areas: first, the assumption, without~ a critical attitude sufficiently inspired by the biblical point of view, of certain Platonic and Pythagorean ideas, in particular the idea that man consists of a soul, that the body is a tomb (a~/~a-~l/~a) from which one should free himself as much as possible with the result that perfection is made to consist in the contemplation (Oe¢op;~) of eternal, transcendent truths; second, the development of a wholly speculative theory concerning Adam and the state of paradise. We know how St. Gregory of Nyssa, for example, transposed, the final liberation from the oppo-the first fruits is especially emphasized by Dom Emmanuel von Severus, "Zu den bibiischen Grundlagen des MSnchtums," in Geist und Leben, 26 (1953), 113-22'; see also the same periodical, 27 (1954), 414 ff. -°SThis idea is developed in D. Thalhammer, S.J., Jenseitige Menschen. Eine Deutung des Ordensstandes, 2nd ed. (Freiburg, 1952); in J. Leclercq, La vie parfaite (Turnhout, 1948); in L. Bouyer, The Meaning of the Monastic Life (New York, 1955); and in O. Rousseau, op. cir. (footnote 23). ~Wexts on this are innumerable. The principal ones can be found in the works listed in the preceding note, to which the following may be added: E. Peterson, Le livre des anges (Paris, 1954); A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7 (1946), 59-77; J. C. Didier, " 'Angdlisme' ou perspectives eschatologiques?" in M~langes de science retigieuse, 11 (1954), 31-48; U. Ranke-Heinemann, "Zum Ideal der vita angelica im fr~ihen MSnchtum," in Geist und Leben, 29 (1956), 347-57; Emmanuel yon Severus, "Bios aggetikos," in Die Engel in der Welt yon heute, 1957, 56-70. 3°I hope to treat this problem later and on a larger scale with the needed precisions and justifications. 28 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sition of the sexes (above, note 18) into the creative intention and held that sex had been a ~stranger to the nature of man as God had, or would have conceived of him, if He had not known ia advance that man would sin.'~ The result of this double influence, with which other factors certainly have concurred, has been not so much perhaps to give an orientation toward the recovery of a lost state of perfection, which is an eschatological expectation present in the New Testament; it has been rather to superimpose on (and perhaps to substitute for) the duality between this world and the other which is to come as the fruit of Christ's Passover, a duality between this earthly, bodily world and a celestial, in-corporeal world which is to be imitated as closely as. possible. But is the Christian ideal to be found in the condescension of God who for love entered human history as a suffering servant? Or is it instead an angelic perfection, situated in an ideal world of the spirit toward which the soul must elevate itself by certain degrees of ascension and sublimation thereby withdrawing itself progres-sively from the sensible world? We may well fear lest spirituality seek its place between heaven and earth and turn away from the history of the world and the commitment to be a savior to men's miseries, meanwhile adjusting itself to a theocracy in which the idea of subordination of body to soul ambiguously expresses itself as a basically political program of subjection of the "temporal" to the "spiritual." We find something of this, it seems, in the history of Citeaux at the height of its prosperity. At that very time the "They will be like the angels" (Lk 20:36; Mt 22:30) is transposed from eschatology to the condition of monks on the earth, something which had been completely avoided, for example, by St. Augustine2: But, on the other hand, for St. Bernard, the mysticism of that angelic life which can bear such doubtful fruits as we have just mentioned is balanced by an ardent mysticism of Christ in his humanity and of the imitation of Christ. What is important is to see, as St. Therese of Lisieux very brilliantly saw it and acted on it,'~'~ that the perfection of love con- 3*See De opificio hominis, cc. 16-17 (Patrologia Graeca, 46, 181 and 188-92). On the very subtle thought of Gregory see the Introduction of P. J. Laplace to La crdation de l'homme [Paris, 1943). St. Thomas criticizes this position in Summa Theologiae, 1, 98, 2. 3~See "Eglise et Cit~ de Dieu chez quelques auteurs cisterciens h l'~poque des Croisades," in Mdlanges Etienne Gilson [Paris, 1959) and "Henri de Marcy, abb~ de Clairvaux, cardinal-dv~que d'Albano et l~gat pontifical," in Analecta Monastica, 5 (Rome, 1958). 33See the studies of A. Combes [for example, his Saint Therese and Her Mission INew York, 1955]) and Ft. Heer, "Die Heilige des Atomzeitalters," in Sprechen wir yon der Wirklichkeit (Nuremberg, 1955), 177 ft. From the 29 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious sists essentially not in the ascending movements of an increasing spiritualization, but in a descent by the paths and the steps of humble service to the point of emptying oneselfi34 One must come to the cross where the salvation of the world is worked out and where, by losing ourselves, we work out our own salvation also. This is scriptural and it is Christian, more .scriptural and more Christian than the theme of the angelic life, traditional and valid though it may be under the conditions which have just been detailed. This angelic theme is a monastic theme. Many modern con-gregations, as they are called, have little or no contact with the great sources of monastic spirituality. They are not, for all that, safe from missteps analogous to those which the theme of the angelic life risks causing. The spirituality proposed in these con-gregations, in so far as it is legitimate to reduce it to a common denominator, is largely inspired by Jesuit authors (Rodriguez) and by the spirituality of the French school, the great French moralists and preachers of the "Great Century." But these sources, valuable certainly and even powerful as inspirers of the true Christian life, seem to bear the mark of the two following influences: first, a certain stoic influence, of which Guillaume du Vair would be a particularly representative example35 (we do not mention him for any other reason and certainly not as one of the sources). This stoic influence, diffuse as it may be, is not negligible. Many mod-ern spiritual programs depend rather largely on Christian stoicism. Second: even the great spiritual men of the French school betray the orientation of the moralist, an insistence on those themes which aim to make man conscious of his baseness and his malice, an insistence on the theme of original sin and its consequences, on the wickedness of the world and of all its aims2~ It seems that this is far from the theme of the angelic life; but the two rejoin in certain eventual consequences. There are fruitful considerations in literary viewpoint see von Balthasar, Le chr~tien Bernanos, pp. 156, 160-61, 264 ff., 457-77, 484. '~4Phil 2:7. ~See F. Strowski, Histoire du sentiment religieux en France au xvii" si~cle, I (Paris, 1910), 18-125; and P. Mesnard, "Du Vair et le N6o-stoicisme," in Revue d'histoire de la philosophie, April, 1928, 142-66. Du Vair begins from original sin and the feelings of penance to arrive at a "life in God" by passing through the practice of the cardinal virtues. ~"Some remarks concerning the influence of this spirituality on the con-gregations of teaching religious may be found in J. G. Lawler, The Christian Imagination: Studies in Religious Thought (Westminster, 1955), 38 ft. It is also necessary here to refer to the Imitation of Christ with its moralistic and individualistic perspective of the opposition between the movements of grace and the movements of nature. 3O January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN all these areas, but scriptural monotheism implies another set of values, more thoroughly oriented toward life, toward history, toward the cosmic theme of salvation. The religious life, and more especially the religious life of women, realizes with a particular intensity and purity the voca-tion of the Church to be the Virgin Spouse of the Lord and thus to become spiritually a mother. The application to the Church of these three inseparable themes: virgin, spouse, mother, whose biblical sources are not only abundant, but situated at the heart of the economy of salvation, is frequent in Christian tradition27 To wish to compare them with themes more or less verbally analogous which have been gathered from the history of religions would be to close one's mind to this. Pagan religions are nature religions which transfer to so-called transcendent persons the relationships and needs of men. They sexualise the divinity. The God of biblical revelation is in no way sexualised; He is the living God who unites men to Himself by faith. The whole relationship of alliance and of union which He establishes with man consists in the spiritual relation of faith, and faith includes a total gift, and therefore is not fully realized except by love: "I will espouse thee to me for-ever: and I will espouse thee to me in justice and judgment and in mercy and in commiserations. And I will espouse thee to me in faith" (Hos 2:19-20). That which creates between God and our-selves, between the Church and God, a marital relation is nothing other than this completely spiritual communication in faith. But this communication supposes in us the sole response of a total giving, of receptivity to the coming of God: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to thy word." So faith is the point of contact for an exchange of fidelity. "I will be your God and you will be my people." And therefore it is a point at which a relation of alliance is achieved, a marital union which is at the same time altogether virginal. It is altogether virginal be-cause the union is spiritual. It consists in nothing else than fidelity itself and is preserved by maintaining this fidelity, that is to say, by its very chastity. It is altogether virginal also because in this relationship of faith nothing which comes from the outside or from ~TThe bibliography is abundant; we will cite only the following: S. Tromp, "Ecclesia Sponsa, Virgo, Mater," in Gregorianum, 18 (1937), 3-29; O. Casel, "Die Kirche als Braut Christi nach Schrift, V~itern, und Liturgie," in The-ologie der Zeit, 1936, 91-111; CI. Chavasse, The Bride o] Christ: An Enquiry into the Nuptial Element in Early Christianity (London, 1940); J. C. Plumpe, Mater Ecclesia: An Inquiry into the Concept of the Church as Mother in Early Christianity (Washington, 1943); AI. Mfiller, Ecclesia-Maria: Die Einheit Marias und der Kirche (Fribourg, 1951); H. Rahner as cited above, n. 5. 31 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious that which is lower enters in, nothing which breaks or mars its integrity. There is nothing of earthly eros here. Motherhood or fruitfulness comes to this virginal and marital union as its fulfillment. The fathers say and repeat that the Church (or the soul) becomes a virgin spouse by faith, and that she also becomes a mother by faith: virgin spouse by believing, mother by communicating the faith, by engendering men in faith. Again, the relationship is altogether spiritual. It consists in faith and this is why it is superior to every kind of carnal kinship2s Precisely because of this, the vocation of the Church to be both virginal spouse and virginal mother is achieved in all the members in proportion to their fervor. For, according to a theme equally familiar to the fathers and to spiritual authors, every soul is the Church. Nevertheless in so far as God is not fully "all in all" (1 Cor 15:28), the difference between man and woman exists not only as a reality of the world, but projects itself and intervenes in a certain manner in the body of Christ which is the Church. So there exist certain differences in the manner in which men and women exercise the spiritual motherhood of the Church. The priesthood, since it is a position of external authority, is reserved to the man. But this relates to the Church under her aspect as means of grace, and therefore does not touch the religious life. as such. In its external activity a religious institute can just as well exercise apostolic functions which also relate to the Church as means of grace and represent an explicit cooperation with the action of the hierarchy where the motherhood of the Church is achieved. But the religious life as such, the religious life purely and simply, belongs rather to the Church as eschatological realiza-tion of holiness. This devotes it to being the locus of a very pure and altogether spiritual realization of the twofold relationship of virginal marriage and of motherhood. All this is particularly true in the life of women religious be-cause woman is more a being of receptivity and of self-giving: because when she gives herself, and above all whe~ she gives her-self in the integrity of her heart and of her body, she gives herself in a more intense way, a more complete and irrevocable way than man; because having fewer exterior activities and acting less out of duty and more from her heart, she makes good with her fervor that which would have been lost to her in action. For all these ~Read in this sense Mt 12:48-50 (=Mk 3:33-35; Lk 8:21); Lk 11:28. In .the same way St. Paul calls those his brothers of whom he says that he has engendered them and is their father. See above, n. 18. 32 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN reasons religious women, consecrated virgins, play a choice role in the mystery of the Church as virgin spouse of the Lord. They play also their wonderful part in the Church's spiritual motherhood. It is extremely remarkable that this doctrine was recalled to us in a very striking way precisely in a religious woman, Therese of the Child Jesus, who having entered Carmel at the age of sixteen, having died at twenty-four, and having remained unknown by the world during her life, has become not only officially but really the patroness of all Catholic missions2'~ She became all this and remains all this solely in the order of the Communion of Saints. According to St. Augustine, it is pre-cisely the Church as a union of love and a communion of saints which exercises spiritual motherhood.4° And so without exterior activity we can in our prayer and in our laborious efforts at con-version (our penances) include intentions for other men and for all the world's miserable; and we can bear them in the womb of love which is the Church's heart of prayer and charity. It is a part of tradition also that in the Church the strong support the weak (there is no question at all here of any other strength than that which comes from God in faith). This spiritual motherhood is a very profound characteristic of the Church: we believe in the Com-munion of Saints. But experience comes frequently to the aid of our weakness of faith. Who has not appealed to this strength? Who would not be able to bear witness to its reality? The Role of the Religious Woman in the Church as a Sign St. Paul says, "We have been made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men" (1 Cor 4:9). The Church gives a visible body to spiritual gifts. So, for example, the gift of unity in Christ which has been given her becomes the "note" of unity; and that of sanctification by the Holy Spirit, the "note" of holiness. Of all these notes that of holiness is the most insistent; it is'the most efficacious also as a witness to men that the Kingdom of God draws near and calls them. It is also the most directly meaningful note because from the fact of holiness to the presence of God the inference is direct and within the grasp of all. And in this mani- 3~See above, n. 33. Pius XII said that contemplative institutes are "fully and completely apostolic," Sponsa Christi, November 21, 1950 (Acta Apos-tolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 14). See also the letter to Cardinal Piazza of June 29, 1955, (Acta Apostoltcae Sedis, 47 [~9551, 543). 4°See for example De sancta virginitate, cc. 3 and 5 (Patrologia Latina, 40, 398-99); Sermo Denis, 25, 7 (edition by G. Morin, 162-63); Sermo 215, 4 (Patrologia Latina, 38, 1074). 33 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious festation of holiness which the Church constitutes throughout the course of history, the various expressions of religious life occupy a choice place.4~ Religious communities are living parables for men of the Kingdom of God. If we begin our consideration of this by treating what is more external in religious life, its institutions appear to us first of all as the freest and most genuine expressions of the spirit of the Church on the plane of her social manifestations. We know that the Church is an original institution put into the world by God; she proceeds from spiritual energies which come from above (Mr 16:17-18). But as this divine institution is made up of men and has a historical, terrestrial existence, she projects herself and expresses herself in creations equally historical in which, nevertheless, she injects the inspiration and the mark of her own proper genius. It would not be difficult and it would be extremely interesting to show how this special genius has from the beginning inspired institutions which are essentially communal, and at the same time respectful of the person and of his liberty, and marked with the character of service. There is truly a special Christian genius at the level of social creations.~- The religious life is perhaps the most pure and most represen-tative creation of the spirit of the Church in this area of social realities. It is not in vain that she has always loved to compare herself with the model of the first community of Jerusalem. It is marvelous to see how on the collective and judicial plane religious rules and canon law have known how to translate into institutions and laws thecommands and the inspirations of the Gospel. As a result, the institutions of religious life, just as in a certain degree the canonical life of the Church herself, become a kind of preach-ing of and witnessing to the Gospel. It is no mere coincidence that it is always the same men who fail to recognize the existence of divine positive law in the world, who deny to the Church the quality of being an institution of divine law, and who misjudge, attack, and seek to thwart or sup-press religious life. One thinks of Josephinism, of Jacobinism, of our own French laicism in its virulent form. So the religious life is not only a sign of the heavenly kingdom; it is also, along with the 4XSee Cardinal Dechamps, Entretiens, in Oeuvres, I, 467 ft.; Dora Gr~a, De l'Eglise et de sa divine constitution, II (Paris, 1907), 152. Vernon Johnson was converted by the fact of Therese of Lisieux. 42Chateaubriand and even Montalembert are dated. But there are more recent and more technical studies: E. Chenon, Le rSle social de l'Eglise and the six volumes of the Carlyle brothers, A History of Mediaeval Political Theory in the West. 34 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN sacraments and the hierarchy, a sign of the Church as a separated order, a social and public reality placed ,in the world in virtue of the right God has to affirm and to establish his reign.43 In a world which wishes to be completely autonomous, religious life, situated at the heart of the Church's garden, presents the example of a life totally "theonomous." But it is common, it is normal, that signs should be, according to the dispositions of those to whom they are shown, a call to conversion or a sign of contradiction, a sign of opposition. They can also be, even for well-disposed men, signs which scandalize if they become sign~ that lie, or signs that are simply inadequate for their mission and their aims. There is also, in the religious life, and we think particularly of the religious life of women, a human element -- sometimes too human, sometimes not human enough! Pettiness, legalism, authoritarianism, pharisaism, the spirit of ownership, hardness of heart, lack of fraternal com-munion and failure to share human misery, taste for power, a judaic spirit in the way of considering observances, especially the least important ones, precisely those from which the Gospel has liberated us. Among the causes which brought on the death of Christianity, the betrayal of their true spirit in the last centuries of the Middle Ages by a number of monastic and religious insti-tutions has justly been noted.4~ When it is authentic, the religious life is a sign that the spiritual exists. Heaven exists, and that takes the value out of the the goods and the joys of earth. Not that they are not truly goods, truly joys, but they are so relative! For "this world as we see it is passing away" (1 Cor 7:31). The religious life proposes, without the noise of words, the message of death which the Church addresses to the world, not a sorrowful message -- who is more joyful than the religious man, if not the religious woman? -- but a serious and an important one. Again, the religious life verifies in a singular manner the essence of all Christian life, which is an Easter life, a mystery of life and of death, comprehended within the message of 4'~In this connection I recall the beautiful text of A. Lamy, "Bios angelikos," in Dieu vivant, n. 7, 76: "The function of monachism in the Church seems to be to affirm the citizenship of the Christian in the city of the angels arid to affirm his rights there by the exercise of them." Religious life is one ele-ment of the eschatological right which the Church affirms and translates into the world. On this basis it could be said that religious life is of divine right, not in its various historical forms, but in its essential principle. It flows from the transcendence of the Church with respect to the world and from the right possessed by every Christian to leave the world and to thus affirm his eschatological and spiritual royalty. ~See Fr. Heer, "L'h~ritage Europe," in Dieu vivant, n. 27 (1954), 43. 35 Yvzs M.-J. CO~AR Review for Religious Ash Wednesday, "Remember that you are dust and that you will return to dust" and that of Easter Day, "Remember that you are spirit and that you will return to the Spirit." The religious life, by its mere existence, is a witness to the world that God exists; it calls the world to the obedience of faith. On either side of the chancel which closes in the choir at the abbey of Maria Laach one may read these words of St. Paul:" "I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, exhort you to walk in a worthy manner" (Eph 4:1). The religious life, therefore, has its part in the great kerygmatic function of the Church, that is, in its .lifelong exercise of the mis-sion of announcing the Good News of the Kingdom. It is like a lasting sermon against the spirit of the world. Against its freedom-worshipping and anarchical taste for liberty, religious life affirms that one can bind himself to God, that one can, in the Holy Spirit, make a spiritual thing out of that which is corporeal, and make something stable out of that which changes. Against the world's obsessive defeatism before the evil which it inflicts on itself, the religious life affirms that one can conquer the flesh and push back the empire of the devil. Finally if it is true that the very word ecclesia means con-vocation, a gathering of men in response to a call, the cal! of the Kingdom of God, the religious life situates itself at the very source of the mystery of the Church. For the religious life is, both in its substance as well as in the first act which draws one to enter into it, a total listening to God. It is a reality in the image of Mary, Mary herself being, we know, the type, and even better than the type: the perfect personification of the Church as holiness. It is possible to think that in the wide sense everything is a vocation, because everything is a response to the will of God. But there are vocations in the strict sense, and it is correct to speak of "religious vocation." In the Church, as we have seen, the strong support the weakest; docility in the following of that which is strictly a voca-tion is like a compelling example, a sign and a support for the difficult fidelity to vocations in their larger acceptation. The abso-luteness of the response of religious women to their call supports the response of all others. It is necessary that religious women know that they contribute in this way to the continuation of the whole Church, somewhat as each star in the firmament is necessary for the balance of the whole. Spiritually we all have family respon-sibilities. A last remark of some importance ecclesiologically on the subject of the religious life as a response to a special call. In the 36 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN beginnings of Christianity, baptism ratified a personal choice, an eventually dangerous one, of the faith. It was the term of a con-version. It was truly a second birth, not only in the dogmatic sense which is always true, but in the moral sense and on the psycho-logical plane. Psychologists distinguish, since Francis W. New-man, 4~ the "once born" and the "twice born": those who are simply what they were at their entrance into the world plus the results of their being" formed by it; and those who have known a revela-tion, had a decisive ~xperience, heard a call, and are truly, per-sonally, born a second time. A man baptised at the termination of a personal conversion is, psychologically and morally, a "twice born." But, in the general practice, almost universal and one might even say automatic practice of baptism of the newly born, the Church is no longer made up of the twice born except by way of exception. But it is necessary that their moral race always be represented in her midst. She is "twice born" individually by the more or less large number of faithful who are truly born of a second birth. She is "twice born" institutionally especially because of the religious life. Moreover, historically the fact has often been brought out46 that the monastic life developed at the moment when, with the end of persecution and danger and the beginning of the favor of the powerful, large masses of people entered the Church, en-dangering the strength of her leaven. The vocation to asceticism has after a fashion taken the place of the vocation to martyrdom; monks have in a way taken over the status of the martyrs as signs of an absolute response given to an absolute call. The Church's religious life always has this mission of signifying that the Christian life is a second birth whose principle is a call. We will not treat here -- we have already done it briefly elsewhere47 -- an interesting problem, but more theoretical than practical, which was posed by the researches of M. Weber and E. Troeltsch. According to these Protestant authors, religious orders answer within the Church to the needs and the religious tempera-ment which outside the Church produces sects. These would be, sociologically speaking, of the "sect" type, not of the "church" type in so far as they are groupings, first, of volunteers, men who 4~The Soul. Its Sorrows and Its Aspirations. 3rd ed., 1852, 89 ft. 4GFor example, see M. Viller, "Martyre et perfection," in Revue d'ascd-tique et mystique, 6 (1925), 4-25; L. Bouyer, op. cit. n. 28, 89 ft. and his Vie de saint Antoine (Fontenelle, 1950); J. Winandy, Ambroise Autpert, moine et thdologien (Paris, 1953), 56; Ed. E. Malone, The Monk and the Martyr: The Monk as the Successor of the Martyr (Washington, 1950). 47Vraie et [ausse r~/orme dans l'Eglise (Paris, 1950), 288-92 (includes bibli-ography). 37 YVES M.-J. CONGAR Review for Religious come together in a group on the basis of a personal decision and who thus do not presuppose the existence of the group but con-stitute it; second, men who have achieved a break with the world and prefer the Gospel's opposition to terrestrial life to its universal-ism which necessarily involves compromise. Troeltsch sees in religious orders an ecclesiastical naturalization of tendencies which outside the Church result in sects. There is much truth in the analysis of Troeltsch, but only on its own psycho-sociological plane. Both above and below this level it errs. Without prejudice to other of his well made points, we be-lieve we have shown from the inside, that is to say from the view-point of the Church herself, that it is the mystery of the Church which is found to be the essential element in the life of religious orders and of each of their members. By way of conclusion, we would like to answer a question which it is impossible not to put in the context of what we have been considering. Is the religious life or is it not of the essence of the Church, and if it is, by what title? Papal teaching furnishes an answer and it will suffice merely to present it and explain it. Faced with "Americanism," Leo XIII already affirmed that religious orders are of great importance to the mission of the Church.48 But it was necessary to connect their existence with the end of the Church. The Church would not fully fulfill her mission if the institutions of religious life were lacking. If the end of the "missions," in the strict canonical sense of the word, is to "plant the Church" in such a way that she has in a given country or among a given people all her essential institutions, all the means of existence and of action, one understands why Pius XI demanded that on the missions as many religious orders and congregations as possible should be instituted, and that they should be made up of indigenous elements created in new and better forms, where the need for such arose29 His Holiness Pius XII made the matter still clearer in the constitution Provida mater of February 2, 1947, the charter of secular instutes. The two states of cleric and layman, he said, exist by divine right and are necessary to the Church in so far as she is a society constituted and structured hierarchically; they pertain to the essential structure (to the building) of the Kingdom of God 4sSee his letter Testern benevolentiae to Cardinal Gibbons, January 22, 1899, in Actes de Ldon XIII (Paris: Bonne Presse), V, 322-25; also the letter of December 23, 1900 to Cardinal Richard, ibid., VI, 188-89. ~gSee the encylical Rerurn Ecclesiae of February, 1926, in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 18 (1926), 74. 38 January, 1960 THEOLOGY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN on earth.5° The Church recognizes a third state, the religious state, which is common to the two preceding states, since it includes members of the faithful who, canonically, belong to the clerical or to the lay state; this religious state is bound by a strict and peculiar relationship to the end of the Church, sanctification.5~ One can say, then, that the religious state is not essential to the Church considered in her formal elements or in her static constitutives. A bishop and faithful suffice for a Church. From this comes the well-known definition of St. Cyprian, "A people one with its priest and a flock adhering to its shepherd, these are the Church.''~ Nevertheless, as soon as the Church lives she exercises the activities for which she was put into the world. These are the activities of the sanctification of men, that is to say, of their sub-mission to the Kingdom of God and, by that fact, of their entry into her communion. Here it is that the religious life steps in as the social form of existence most strictly conformed to the needs and the conditions of the Kingdom of God. And the religious life was first seen historically under the form of the institution of con° secrated virgins. Evidently, looked at in one or other of its par-ticular forms, religious life is a creation of the Church and stands out in her history. But, looked upon in principle, that is to say as the call to live only for God and for His kingdom, it holds a place at the very heart of the Church. In her quality as bride of Christ, it is included in the obligations and the laws of holiness which this Church pursues as her proper end. ~°Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 39 (1947), 116. In his al]ocution Annus sacer, the Holy Father, citing canon 107, said that "on earth the structure of the Kingdom of God consists of a double element" (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 [1951], 27). ~See Provida Mater Ecclesiae and also Annus sacer, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 43 (1951), 28: "[The religious state] exists and is important, because it is closely connected to the proper end of the Church which is to lead men to the attainment of sanctity." ~2Epistula 66, 8 (Hartel's edition, p. 732; Patrologia Latina, 4, 406 where it is listed, however, as Epistle 69). 39 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S. J. THIS ARTICLE will provide a summary of the documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during August and Sep-tember, 1959. Throughout the article all page references will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Encyclical on the Priesthood On August 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 545479), Pope John XXIII issued the second encyclical of his pontificate. The encyclical was entitled Sacerdotii Nostri primordia (The First Days of Our Priesthood); oc-casioned by the Pontiff's desire to honor the hundredth anniversary of the death of St. John Vianney, Cur~ of Ars, the document is devoted to a consideration of the priesthood as exemplified in the life of the saint. The introductory paragraphs recall the temporal links between the official glorification of St. John and the Pontiff's own priesthood: the future saint was beatified shortly after the Pope's own ordination to the priesthood; the first bishop the Pope served, Bishop Radini- Tadeschi, was consecrated on the day of the beatification; and the Pope received the fullness of the priesthood in the year (1925) when the Cur~ of Ars was declared a saint. The Holy Father then lists the great papal documents on the priesthood that have appeared during the present century: Pius X's Haerent animo (Acta Pii X, 4, 237-64); Plus XI's Ad catholici sacerdotii fastigium (AAS, 28 ~19361, 5-53); Pius XII's Menti Nostrae (AAS, 42 [1950], 657-702); and the same Pontiff's three allocutions on the priesthood inspired by the canonization of Plus X (AAS, 46 119541, 313-17; 666-77). To these documents the Pope has now added his own in the hope that it may aid priests to preserve and increase that divine friendship which is at once the joy and strength of the priestly life. In expressing the purpose of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ remarked that he intended to retrace the chief traits of the holiness of the Cur~ of Ars, since these emphasize those aspects of the priestly life which, while always essential, are today so vital that the Pontiff has deemed it his apostolic duty to call attention to them. Priestly Asceticism and Mortification In the first of the three parts of the main body of the encyclical the Pope considered the priestly asceticism and mortification of the Cur~. To speak of the saint, he began, is to evoke the figure of an 4O ROMAN DOCUMENTS exceptionally mortified priest who for the love of God deprived himself of nourishment and sleep, practiced severe, penances, and exercised a heroic self-renouncement. His example, the Holy Father said, should recall to all the important place of the virtue of penance in the perfec-tion proper to the priesthood. While it is true that priests as such are not bound by divine law to the evangelical counsels, still this does not mean that the priest is less bound than religious to strive for evangelical perfection of life. Rather the accomplishment of the priestly functions "requires a greater interior sanctity than even the religious state does" (St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 8, c). And if the evangelical counsels are not imposed on the priest by virtue of his clerical state, nevertheless they are offered to him, as to all Christians, as the safest road to the longed for goal of Christian perfection. The Cur~ of Ars, continued the Pope, is a model of evangelical poverty; he lived totally detached from the things of this world. Freed in this way from the bonds of material things, he could thereby be entirely open to all those who suffered and who flocked to him for solace. His disinterestedness made him especially attentive to the poor whom he treated with tenderness and respect, convinced that to con-temn the poor is to contemn God Himself. Priests, then, if they possess material things, should not cleave to them with cupidity; rather should they recall the directives of canon law (c. 1473) according to which what is left over from ecclesiastical benefices should be used in favor of the poor and of pious causes. The Pontiff, however, made it clear in the closing part of this section that he does not approve the abject poverty to which many priests in small towns and in the country are reduced, and he urged the faithful to cooperate with the bishops to see that the sacred ministers be not lacking in what is necessary for their daily sustenance. Turning to the second of the evangelical counsels, the Vicar of Christ then pointed out that all through his life the Cur~ was mortified in his body and that this was achieved by his constant and careful observance of chastity. His example, the Pope pointed out, is most necessary today; for in many places priests must live in an atmosphere of excessive license and pleasure. And at times they must live in such an atmosphere unsupported by the sympathetic understanding of the faithful they serve. In spite of these difficulties John XXIII called upon priests to show forth in their entire lives the splendor of the virtue of chastity, that noblest ornament of their sacred order, as Pius X called it. The chastity of the priest, he added, will not enclose him in a sterile egoism; for as the Cur~ of Ars himself once said: "The soul that is adorned with the virtue of chastity can not but love others; for such a person has found the source and origin of all love---God." The next component of the Cur~'s asceticism to be considered by the Holy Father was his obedience. The Pontiff emphasized that the 41 l~ F. SMtT~ Rewew for Rehgmus "I promise" of the Cur$'s ordination ceremony was the occasion of a permanent self-renouncement that lasted throughout forty years. From early youth the ardent desire of the Cur~ had been for solitude, and his pastoral responsibilities were a heavy burden preventing him from the fulfillment of this desire; many times he tried to be freed from his pastoral work but always remained obedient to the will of his bishop, convinced as he was of the Gospel phrase: "Whoever hears you, hears me" (Lk 10:16). The Vicar of Christ then expressed the hope that the priests of today would see in the Curg the grandeur of obedience and would recall the words of Pius XII: "Individual holiness as well as the efficacy of all apostolic work finds its solid foundation in constant obedience to the hierarchy." Accordingly priests should endeavor to develop in themselves the sense of the filial relationship by which they are united to Mother Church. Prayer and Devotion to the Eucharist In the second principal division of the document, John XXIII reflected on St. John as a model of prayer and of devotion to the Eu-charist. Prayer, he said, was as important in the saint's life as was penance and mortification. His love for prayer was shown in his long nightly vigils of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament; the tabernacle of his parish church became for him the center from which he drew the strength necessary for his own personal life and for the effectiveness of his apostolic endeavors. This example of the Cur6, the Vicar of Christ pointed out, is sorely needed by the priests of today; for they are keenly sensible of the effectiveness of action and hence easily tempted to a dangerous activism. The Cur~ of Ars should convince priests everywhere that they must be men of prayer and that they can be such, no matter how heavy the press of apostolic labors may at times become. The prayer of the Cur~, he continued, was especially a Eucharistic prayer; for nothing in the life of a priest can replace silent and prolonged prayer before the altar. Nor should it be forgotten that Eucharistic prayer in the fullest sense of the word is to be found in the sacrifice of the Mass. The celebration of the Mass is an essential part of the priestly life, for in what does the apostolate of the priest consist if not in the gathering together of the people of God around the altar? It is through the Mass that in one generation after another the mystical body of Christ that is the Church is built up. Moreover the entire sanctifica-tion of the priest must be modeled on the sacrifice he offers; the priest must make his own life a fitting sacrifice, a participation in the expiatory life of the Redeemer. It was for this reason that the Cur~ used to ob-serve that if priests lose the first fervor of their ordination it is because they do not celebrate piously and attentively. 42 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Pastoral Zeal In the third part of the encyclical the Vicar of Christ delineates the pastoral zeal of St. John Vianney. The Curg's life of asceticism, he observed, together with his life of prayer was the source from which flowed the effectiveness of his ministry; in him is verified once more the statement of Christ: "Without me you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5). As a result, the Curg was a model shepherd of souls who knew his flock, protected it from danger, and led it with authority and wisdom. His example, the Pope continued, included three points of utmost import-ance. The first of these was his keen appreciation of his pastoral re-sponsibilities. From the beginning he conceived of his pastoral work in heroic fashion and expressed his attitude in one of his early prayers: "Grant, O God, that~ the people entrusted to me may be converted. For this I am prepared to suffer all the days of my life whatever You may wish." Following the example of apostles of all ages he saw in the cross the one great effective means of saving souls; so it was that he could advise a fellow priest who was disappointed in the results of his apostolic endeavors that prayer, supplications, sighs, and groans were insufficient unless there was added to them fastings, vigils, and bodily chastisement. Besides his general sense of his pastoral responsibilities the Curg manifested his pastoral zeal by his interest and care for preaching and catechizing. Up to the time of his death St. John never ceased to preach, to instruct, to denounce evil, and to lead souls towards God. This should remind today's priests, the Pope said, that everywhere and at all times they must be faithful to their duty of preaching; for, as Pius X insisted, no task of the priest is more important than this. And in their reflections upon their duty to teach, priests should remember that they preach more by their lives than by their words. The third element in the pastoral zeal of the Cur~ of Ars was, according to the encyclical, his work as confessor. It was this form of his ministry that became the real martyrdom of his life. His fifteen hours a day in the confessional would have been difficult in any case; but these were spent by a man already exhausted by fasting, penances, and infirmities. It can be said, the Pope continued, that the Cur~ lived for sinners; their conversion and sanctification was the aim of all his thoughts and of all his activities. Like the Cur~ priests must devote themselves to the work of the confessional, for it is there that the mercy of God meets and overcomes the malice of men. And they must set their people a good example in this matter by their own regular and fervent use of the sacrament of penance. In the conclusion to the encyclical the Pontiff expressed the desire that the centenary of the Curg may arouse in all priests a desire to accomplish their ministry and especially their own perfection as gen-erously as possible. No problem facing the Church today, he added, 43 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious can be solved without priests. As Plus X said: "To promote the King-dom of Christ throughout the world, nothing is more necessary than a holy clergy." Similarly St. John himself pointed out to his bishop: "If you wish to convert your diocese, you must make saints of all your priests." The Pontiff went on to urge the bishops of the world to make the care of their priests their first solicitude; he exhorted the faithful to pray for priests and to contribute to their sanctification; and he pleaded with Christian youth to reflect that "the harvest is great, but the harvesters are few" (Mt 9:37) and that entire peoples are today enduring a spiritual starvation far greater than any hunger of the body. Allocutions, Addresses, Messages On July 29, 1959 (AAS, pp. 586-89), the Holy Father addressed a congress of the blind and those interested in assisting the blind of the world. Pointing out to his audience that in Jesus' ministry of healing the first place was reserved for the blind, the Pontiff went on to deliver a message of hope to the blind of the world. They must remember, he began, that they have a suffering to offer up to God. In spite of all efforts to ease the lot of the blind, they will always be subject to dis-couragement, loneliness, and the weight of sorrow that blindness carries with it. Yet they must recall that according to the Apostle (Col 1:24) men must fill up what is lacking to Christ's passion and that in the redemptive plan the Lord has need of the daily offering of suffering on the part of the blind. The Vicar of Christ also pointed out that the blind have a definite mission to perform in this world, the mission of silent example that only one thing matters in this world: the love with which the will of God is accomplished. And he added that nothing on tbis earth is loss, as long as conformity with God's will is present. In the concluding part of his address the Pope recalled to his listeners that their goal is that of eternal life and that their journey thither is supported by the words of Christ: "Whoever follows me walks not in darkness, but has the light of life" (Jn 8:12). Blindness, he ended, can prepare those afflicted with it for the shining luminosity which will come in the next life from the glorified Christ. On August 20, 1959 (AAS, 639-41), the Pontiff radioed a message to the Second World Sodality Congress held at Newark, New Jersey. He told the sodalists that they were in the first ranks of the Church's army and stressed in their lives the role of their consecration to the Blessed Virgin, a consecration which of its nature includes the proposal to keep it throughout life. From this consecration, he continued, arises the desire to wish for nothing except what is pleasing to God and the resolution to strive by prayer, action, and example to serve the Church and to work for the eternal salvation of souls. On July 21, 1959 (AAS, pp. 584-85), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the Prime Minister of Japan on the occasion of that 44 January, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS dignitary's official visit to the Holy See. On August 16, 1959 (AAS, pp. 638o39), he delivered a radio message to the people of.Honduras on the occasion of the official consecration of their nation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, telling them to strive to live in the grace of God, to preserve the sanctity of the family, and to maintain union and concord among themselves. On June 30, 1959 (AAS, p. 589), the Holy Father sent a written message to the Tenth World Boy Scout Jamboree held in the Philippine Islands. In the message he pointed out that the boy scout movement can produce admirable fruits in accordance with the ideals of Christian charity and universal brotherhood. Miscellaneous Documents By the apostolic letter, "Caritatis unitas," of May 4, 1959 (AAS, pp. 630-33), the Vicar of Christ approved the confederation of the various congregations of the Order of Canons Regular of St. Augustine. At the same time he also approved the general principles which are to govern the confederation and directed the members of the confedera-tion to draw up specific statutes for the confederation which should then be submitted to the Holy See for approval. A later apostolic letter, Salutiferos cruciatus Christi, dated July 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 634-36), was directed to the Passionists. In the letter the Pontiff approved the revised form of the Passionists' constitutions and rules. He noted that the revision was undertaken in an effort to adapt the institute to the needs of the times and observed that in the revision the primary and fundamental characteristics of the institute had been reasserted, strengthened, and made more effective. On July 8, 1959 (AAS, pp. 592-93), the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued a decree approving the Office and Mass of St. Lawrence of Brindisi, confessor and doctor. The text of the Office, of the Oration of the Mass, and of the notices to be inserted into the martyrology is given in AAS, pp. 593-94. Another decree of the same Congregation was dated February 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 590-92); this decree approved the introduction of the causes of the Servant of God Salvatore Lilli (1853-1895), professed priest of the Order of Friars Minor, and his companions, all of Whom were put to death in hatred of the faith. In the period under survey three documents of the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary appeared. Under the date of July 18, 1959 (AAS, pp. 595-96), the Penitentiary published the revised text of the act of dedi-cation to Christ the King as well as its attached indulgences. This document is given in full on pages 3 and 4 of the present issue of RE-VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. On August 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 655-56), the Penitentiary published the text of a prayer composed by the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities to be recited by semi-narians for their parents. Seminarians who devoutly and contritely recite the prayer for their parents may gain an indulgence of fifty 45 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious days; and once a month they may gain a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions provided they have recited the prayer for a whole month. On the same date (AAS, p. 656), the Penitentiary announced that the faithful who in a church, a public oratory, or (in the case of those legitimately using it) a semi-public oratory privately perform the pious exercise commonly called the holy hour in memory of the passion, death, and ardent love of our Lord Jesus Christ may gain a plenary indulgence, if they have gone to confession, received Com-munion, and prayed for the intentions of the Holy Father. This new concession of an indulgence for this practice is not intended to abrogate the partial indulgence of ten years mentioned in the Enchiridion in-dulgentiarum (Manual of Indulgences), 1952 edition, n. 168. On May 18, 1959 (AAS, p. 647), the Sacred Consistorial Congrega-tion appointed Archbishop Concha of Bogot~ military vicar of Columbia. Views, News, Previews IN A PREVIOUS issue (Review for Religious, 18 [1959], 237), the beginning of a new quarterly, Jesus Caritas, was noted. Response to the new magazine, which is devoted to the spirituality of P~re de Foucauld, has been sufficient to warrant the continuation of its publi-cation. The latest issue has been that of September, 1959. The yearly subscription price has been set at $1.00; in Canada and the United States subscription orders should be sent to: Jesus Caritas 700 Irving Street, N.E. Washington 17, D. C. The first congress of the Confederation of Benedictine Congrega-tions to be held since the promulgation of the confederation's laws by Pius XII in 1952 took place during the latter part of September, 1959. At the congress Dom Benno Gut, Abbot of Einsiedeln in Switzerland, was elected Abbot Primate of the Confederation. The new primate was born on April 1, 1897, was professed in 1918, and ordained in 1921. After studies and a teaching career at Sant'Anselmo in Rome, he was elected abbot of Einsiedeln in 1947. The Cassinese Benedictine Congregation, largest of the fifteen included in the Benedictine Confederation, in a general chapter at Subiaco during October, 1959, elected Dom Celestino Gusi, Abbot of Manila, as the eleventh Abbot General of the congregation. The Graduate Department of Religious Education, Immaculate Heart College, 2021 North Western Avenue, Los Angeles 27, Cali- 46 January, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS fornia, announces a two-week course in canon law for religious superiors, which will grant two units of graduate credit. The course, conducted by the Reverend Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Maryland, will be open to major and local su-periors of all communities of sisters. It is scheduled for the afternoons of June 28 to July 9, 1960. The tuition is $32. The fourth course in the new program in ascetical theology, which is offered in the Graduate Department of Religious Education, Im-maculate Heart College, will be given by the Reverend Eugene Burke, C.S.P., professor of dogmatic theology at Catholic University of America, from July 11-15, 1960. The course is entitled "The Life of Grace and Growth of Virtue" and grants one unit of graduate credit. Sisters who did not apply for admission to the M.A. program when it began in October, 1959, may apply for admission now. Residence ac-commodations are available for the five-day course at Holy Spirit Retreat House in Los Angeles. All reservations must be made before June 1, 1960, and be accompanied by a ten-dollar deposit. Room and board is $20; tuition is $17.50. Inquiries should be directed to Sister Mary Thecla, I.H.M., Dean of the Graduate School, Immaculate Heart College. A new publication that should prove both interesting and important is the Seminary Newsletter, the first issue of which appeared in October, 1959: The Newsletter is issued by the Seminary Department of the National Catholic Educational Association and "is meant to be a clearinghouse of information about seminaries and seminary training, especially from the academic point of vigw; a clearinghouse of ideas, projects, and results of research." Included in the first issue of the Newsletter is an informative statistical report on Catholic seminaries in the United States. According to the report, during the academic year 1958-1959 there were 381 major and minor seminaries in the United States; of these 99 were diocesan institutions, the other 282 belonging to religious orders and congregations. The report notes "that 131 of the 381 seminaries in the United States have been founded since 1945; 108 since 1950. This means that 34% of the total number have been founded since World War II, 28% of them since 1950. It represents a 53 % increase in the number of seminaries since 1945 and a 40% increase since 1950." The report gives 38,503 as the total num-ber of young men studying for the priesthood in the United States. This number includes besides minor and major seminarians 2082 novices as well as 920 scholastics who have interrupted their seminary studies to teach. In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 304-05, Father Gallen discussed the quest~ion whether more American congregations are be- 47 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Rewew for Rehgmus coming pontifical and presented some statistics on the matter covering the years 1943 to 1957. A study of L'attivit~ della Santa Sede nel 1958 (The Activity of the Holy See in 1958), published in 1959 by the Vatican Polyglot Press gives data from the year 1958 on the same matter. According to the report of the Sacred Congregation of Religious that is given in the volume, during 1958, fifteen institutes received the decree of praise; two of these were in the United States: the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity (M.S.B.T.) of Philadelphia founded in 1916 and the Missionary Sisters of the Most Holy Trinity (M.S.SS.T.) of Washington founded in 1921. The Congregation also reported that during 1958 there were seventeen institutes which re-ceived the definitive approval of their constitutions; of these none was in the United States. The Congregation's report also contained informa-tion about secular institutes: two secular institutes were granted diocesan establishment, one received the decree of praise, and one, the decree of final approbation; none of these four was in the United States. During the same year the Sacred Congregation of the Propagation of the Faith granted the decree of praise to one institute in Ireland and gave definitive approval to the Daughters of Mary of Uganda, Africa. It is interesting to note that this last institute is the first pontifical African institute for women. ( uestions and Answers IThe following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] Our constitutions command the mistress to be with the novices always and, if she should be absent from the house, to learn on her return everything that happened during her absence. I do not think that any mistress has followed either injunction literally, but these two prescriptions have caused a highly exaggerated surveillance. Shouldn't the observance of both be tempered by intelligent prudence? Yes. The first injunction, that the mistress should be with the novices always, is in many constitutions, the second only in very few. The first injunction is also and unfortunately observed in many insti-tutes. This is an evidently false spiritual pedagogy. It simply does not work in any field of the development of character and it is unworthy of the religious state, which is a spontaneous, voluntary, and personal dedication of oneself to Christ. The fundamental purpose of the novice-ship is to give the novice a profound consciousness of God, not of the master or mistress. The novice is to be led to a convinced personal dedication of herself to God; her life is to be a personal committment, 48 January, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS not forced external observance; she is to be trained to think for herself, to personal decisions, and to a sense of responsibility and reliability. The noviceship should be a school that will equip the novice for the life she will actually have to live. She should be instructed and guided but allowed sufficient freedom of action; otherwise you will know what she appears to be but not what she is. She should be checked and corrected, and even more frequently than is commonly done; but this does not demand unceasing vigilance. The more a superior tries to see, the less he will learn. No superior has to try to see everything in order to learrL what he should know. I hazard the conjecture that reticence about interior matters increases in direct proportion to external observation. That the novice mistress or her assistant should be with the novices frequently is intelligent and prudent; that she should be with them always is simply destructive of the purpose intended. Only God. can see everything, and God as one's judge is not the motive of the religious life. The following quotation from a religious woman contains several thought-provoking observations. The principles for the formation of character in congregations are for the most part taken from a psychology of a distant past. This, in the case of women, only aimed at creating habits of will power, furnishing the mind with knowledge learnt by heart, and very little was done to appeal to the interest. They disregarded the education of the senses, any development of initiative and sense of responsibility and the deep needs of feelings. The new psychology seeks to develop the virtues and activities that they may adapt themselves and form personalities . Deeper problems lie in the change of the feminine way of living. In the depth of her being the woman is rather passive. In past centuries the life of a woman matched this interior disposition, but today matters have changed. Modern life forces woman to greater independent activity. She has had to take over responsible work both in private and public life. Her mode of living gets nearer to the masculine type, though at the expense of her individuality. (Sister Agnes, S.I-I.C., Religious Life Today, 162-63.) 2 Our constitutions do not mention at all the canonical requisites for a higher superior. You have already explained these partially. Will you please explain them fully? Canon 504 demands the three personal qualities listed below for the valid election or "appointment of any higher superior of men or women. Age is the only variable element among the three canonical requirements. All of these three impediments established in canon 504 are dispensable but only by the Holy See. The higher superiors in the sense of this canon are the abbot primate; abbot superior of a mon-astic congregation; the abbot .of an independent monastery, even if the monastery appertains to a monastic congregation; the mothers general and regional of federations and superioresses of monast