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Issue 38.3 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bl-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St Louis Umverslty The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070~ Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May, 1979 Volume 38 Number 3 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOtZ REL~C~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Principles of Prayer Robert F. Morneau On February 22, 1979, Bishop Morneau was consecrated to serve as auxiliary bishop of the Green Bay Diocese, His latest article for our pages, "Spiritual Staying Power," appeared beginning p. 664 of the September, 1979 issue. He wrote: "'As of December 19th my writing career has been threatened." On that date he was appointed bishop-designate. Growth in all forms of relationships, be they with God or with one another, calls for an ongoing communication process. Prayer is one such process involving dialogue between God and the human person. In order to be meaningful that process must be grounded on certain principles de-scriptive of universal conditions, consequences and causes of meaningful prayer. This paper culls out several principles of prayer as articulated by various spiritual authors. These authors, experiencing prayer at different levels according to the uniqueness of their personality structures, share in written form some truths that provide an explication of prayer experiences in general. These truths when understood in context may well enlighten our own experiences or at least cause us to desire them as we journey to the Father. In so doing we can grow in our dialogical relationship with God. A three-step method will be used: 1) a statement of a principle of prayer; 2) a series of quotations from which the principle was drawn, or of quo-tations used to demonstrate the validity of the principle; and 3) a com-mentary developing some implications buried within the principle and/or quotations. Though principles are significant and advantageous in providing a perspective and pointing out a direction, experience itself is the central concern. Hopefully, as the reader journeys beyond the principle into the 321 322 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 197913 experience which it ~luciidates, he will find deeper meaning in it and be able to come into contact with the principal Reality underlying all real princi-ples. Ten Principles of Prayer 1. Prayer is Essentially Loving Attention1 Thus the individual also should proceed only with a loving attention to God, without making specific acts. He should conduct himself passively, as we have said, without efforts of his own, but with the simple, loving awareness, as a person who opens his eyes with loving attention,z Attention animated by desire is the whole foundation of religious practices? shall not dwell upon this because I want to say something about the way in which think those of us who practice prayer may profit, though everything is profitable to soul that loves the Lord with fervent desire, since it instills into it courage and wonder.4 Two essential elements of authentic prayer are contained in the defini-tion of prayer as loving attention: awareness of the presence of the Other and a h.eartfelt, concerned response. Distraction within consciousness and indifference of the heart are obstacles to meaningful communication with God. If, on our part, we are called to love with attention, this is consequent upon God's loving attention toward us. God made us; he is attentive to the smallest detail of our lives; he loves us completely. An affirmative answer must be given to Blake's deeply religious question: ~'Did he smile his work to see?" The Father's loving attention has been revealed in Jesus, the Word incarnate. A coming-to-visit verifies God's love and awareness. Further verification is found in the sending of the Spirit into our lives, the Spirit of love and knowledge. Because of this personal Grace we are enabled to truly pray. The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows per-fectly well what he means, and that the pleas of the saints expressed by the Spirit are according to the mind of God.? Defining prayer in terms of loving attention is simple but not simplistic. Its simplicity lies in its directness and succinctness; it is not reductionistic ~SeeJo 17;Ro 11:33-36. ~The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, (Tr., Kavanaugh, and Rodriguez, Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, 1973), p. 622. 3Simone Weil, Waiting for God, introduction by Leslie Fiedler (New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1951), p. 197. 4The Complete Works of St. Teresa of Jesus, translated and edited by E. Allison Peers (London: Sheed and Ward, 1944), Vol. I!, p. 363. ~Ro 8:26-27. Principles of Prayer / 323 because neither love nor attentiveness is easily attained. Prayer, like all great acts, defies full analysis because it contains too much mystery. Only knowledge of prayer from the inside, i.e., through experience, allows for even surface knowledge of such a powerful event. 2. Prayer is Proportionate to the Qualit~ of One's Love6 Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who Ioveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who Ioveth us, He made and Ioveth all.7 He knew that without prayer true love was impossible, and he learned from living that without love prayer became self-centered and barren.8 I repeat that if you have this in view you must not build upon foundations of prayer and contemplation alone, for, unless you strive after the virtures and practice them, you will never grow to be more than dwarfs. God grant that nothing worse than this may happer~for, as you know, anyone who fails to go forward begins to go back, and love, I believe, can never be content to stay for long where it is.8 The spiritual life demands balance. How one relates to God in prayer is intimately related to how one encounters his neighl~or. Scripture is trans-parent on this point: he who says that he loves God and at the same time shows hatred to his neighboris a liar:1° The person who spends an hour in prayer while fi~glecting the obvious needs of people close at hand must seriously examine the authenticity of such prayer. Indeed, the reality check for one's prayer life is fraternal charity.~1 Prayer and love are ~ymbiotic. Since our God is Love, we must be in close contact with him if we are to share that gift with others to its fullest. The reverse is also true: unless we share the love given in prayer, the gift dries up or simply engenders pride. As in all provinces of life, the principle of interdependence applies directly to the spiritual life, too. Integration of prayer and' love, contemplation and virture, liturgy and the apostolate are called for. Isolation and fragmentation here create a false spirituality visible to everyone except their possessor. A vision of integrated spirituality and a discipline of courageous action is true imitation of Christ. 81Jo 2:9-11; Lk 4:42-44. 7Samuel Taylor Coleridge, "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.'" SMurray Bodo, Francis: The Journe~ and the Dream (Cincinnati: St, Anthony Messenger Press, 1972), p. 64. 8St. Teresa, II, p. 347. ~°1 Jo 2. ~Spiritual Renewal of the American Priesthood (Washington, D.C.: Publication Office United States Catholic Conference, 1973), p. 48. 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 3. Genuine Prayer Demands Some Self-Control of Body and Spiritt2 ¯. we shall not fail to observe the fasts, disciplines and periods of silence which the order commands: for, as you know, if prayer is to be genuine it must be reinforced with these things--prayer cannot be accompanied by self-indulgence?'~ Oh, who can tell how impossible it is for a man with appetites to judge the things of God as they are.j4 We shall have overcome a considerable obstacle when prayer and penance condition each other, for their unity will be able to become the guarantee of their orientation. If it is necessary to deprive oneself of food and sleep, it is not to establish a perform-ance or glorify oneself over an exploit, but to allow the spirit to give itself freely to prayer, since, if it is less strongly captivated by the things of earth, it will be able to give attention to what is above it.15 When the body or the spirit is not free but addicted to various sub-stances or objects, the process of prayer is threatened. A body satiated with food and drink becomes listless and weary; a mind constantly filled with the flood of stimuli is so preoccupied as not to be receptive to other realities. Prayer is premised upon the ability to say '~no" to one level of reality so as to be able to say "yes" to the workings of the Spirit. Asceticism is a condition which creates space and time for dialogue with God. Certain exercises, such as fasting, periods of extended silence, volun-tary mortification, are means by which that space and time become real. The "if-then" principle applies to spirituality as it does to all of life: if the farmer wants the fall harvest, then he must willingly do the spring plowing and planting; ira person wants to listen and respond to the Lord, then time and space must be created for the encounter to happen. Strong and deter-min~: d desire lies at the root of such discipline. Self-control extends one step beyond asceticism. Once the emptiness has been created through exercises done out of love, then the soul must wait on the Lord who will come in his time and in his manner. Waiting for God is at the heart of prayer and is already a deep form of prayer; self-control makes that waiting possible and grace makes it sacred. Although not speaking of prayer, C. S. Lewis describes well this aspect of what is, after all, part of the human condition: "Then came the worst part, the waiting." ~ 4. In Prayer, 1 Must Bring This Me to the Living and True God~7 I enter into the presence of God with all my load of misery and troubles. And he takes me just as I am and makes me to be alone with him?~ ~ZGa 5:16-26: Mt 4:1-17. ~3St. Teresa, I1, p. 16. ~4St. John of the Cross, p. 364. ~Fran~ois Roustang, S.J., Growth in the Spirit, (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966), p¯ 232. ~nC. S. Lewis, The Last Battle (New York: Collier Books, 1956). p. 13. ~rjg 6:13: Ro 7:14-25. This principle of prayer was presented in a gu.ided retreat by Fr. William A. M. Peters, S.J. ~SRaissa's Journal, presented by Jacques Maritain (Albany, N.Y.: Magi Books, 1974), p. 225. Principles of Prayer / 325 If you're approaching him not as the goal but as a road, not as the end but as a means, you're not really approaching him at all?9 I can testify that this is one of the most grievous kinds of life which I think can be imagined, for I had neither any joy in God nor any pleasure in the world. When i was in the midst of worldly pleasures, I was distressed by the remembrance of what I owed to God; when I was with God, I grew restless because of worldly ~iffections.z° Any genuine conversation requires that each participant have an ade-quate level of self-knowledge and is familiar with the content under discus-sion. Where either is wanting, communication breaks down. Prayer, which is essentially a form of communication, contains the same requirements: we must know our real self and have some notion of who God is as well as understand the experience that is being ~;hared. Because of a drive to come off 'qooking well," it is difficult to bring the true, real self to God without a kind of editing. Because God can be conceived in ways that are distor-tions of his true nature, it can easily happen that we attempt to pray to gods that do not exist. One of the greatest causes for sterility in prayer stems precisely from a misconception of God and a failure to be in touch with our true identity. Psychologists are helpful in depicting for us a variety of selves with which we must deal: Each of us seems to have three self-concepts. The personal self-image is how the individual pictures his most inner self ("how 1 really am"). The social self is how he thinks others see him, and the pattern of responses he learns in order to be a social being. The Meal self is made up of the goals set by parents, the culture, and other sources ("how I should be"). Often, these three conflict, creating problems for the individual trying to satisfy them all.z~ Each person must examine which of these selves is operative not only in the interactions of one's daily life but also as one comes before God. To play a role or function in the presence of the Lord prohibits encounter with our deepest self. To demand that the ideal self be actualized before its due season (perfectionism) leads only to a guilt trip every time we must turn to prayer. God says to us, "Come as you are"--no need for formal dress here. C. S. Lewis knew that God cannot be captured by our finite reason: "My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has .to be shattered time after time.''z2 Yet we can come to some knowledge of the living and true God. As Christians we attain to this through faith and the knowledge of Jesus Christ. In Jesus our God is made visible. Gifted with the Spirit, we make our journey to the Father in and through Jesus. His life, death and resurrec-tion is a summary statement of the Father's love and forgiveness. Thus all ~9C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World. 1955), p. 21. 2°St. Teresa, I, p. 48. 2~John H. Brennecke and Robert G. Amick; Psychology: Understanding Yourself(California: Benziger Bruce & Glencoe, 1975), p. 43. "~C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York: The Seabury Press, 1961), p. 52. 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 197913 of our prayer passes through and is enriched by the Lord as we speak to and listen to the Father. .Authentic prayer demands authentic, real persons. Our real self must be continually ferreted out; our real God must be longed for and awaited in silence and solitude. Only when real people meet can dialogue take place; the dialogue of prayer is no exception. 5. Prayer's Primary Focus Is on God, Not Self or Events2:~ I get nowhere by looking at myself; I merely get discouraged. So I am making the resolution to abandon myself entirely to God, to look only at him, to leave all the care of myself to him, to practice only one thing, confidence; my extreme wretchedness, my natural cowardice leaving me no other way to go to God and to advance in good .24 it is not my business to think about myself. My business is to think about God. It is for God to think about me.z~ You could, if you wished, deny that Mister God existed, but'then any denial didn't alter the fact that Mister God was. No, Mister God was; he was the kingpin, the center, the very heart of things; and this is where it got funny, You see, we had to recognize that he was all these things, and that meant that we were at our qenter, not God. God is our center, and yet it is we who acknowledge that he is the center. That makes us somehow internal to Mister God. This is the curious nature of Mister God: that even while he is at the center of all things, he waits outside us and knocks to come in. It is we who open the door. Mister God doesn't break it down and come in; no, he knocks and waits.2n Focusing and centering are concepts and experiences that are empha-sized in spirituality and psychology. Through this activity we realize that what is at the core of our consciousness radically affects our thoughts, feelings and actions. Often, a violent struggle takes place deep within our interior as various persons, forces, and things vie for centrality. Prayer deals directly with centering. Oi)r experience indicates how easily self-centeredness moves in or how daily anxieties and worries can become so strong as to exclude any awareness of a loving, caring God. Self-transcendence is no easy task; trust that the Lord will provide is more easily thought than experienced. Only in grace can the obstacles blocking encounter with God be removed. Jesus' prayer and life were centered on the Father and the doing of his will. Often in the early hours and before major events we see Jesus explicitly turning to the Father in deep, familiar communication. These explicit moments were indications of an implicit, hidden life of union. How else explain the intimacy of the last supper discourse? Yet Jesus, in his humanness, must have struggled at times to keep proper focus. We need but ponder the agony in the garden to realize that the struggle we have with ourselves and our fear of suffering were part ~aPs 23: Ga 2:17-21. Z4Raissa's Journal, p. 83. Z~Waiting for God, pp. 50-51. ~nFynn, Mister God, This is Anna (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1974), p. 174. Principles of Prayer / 327 of our Lord's experience as well. The lives of the saints are the records of people who struggled to center on God in spite of their own selfishness. Augustine's ongoing conversion, Teresa of Avila's admission that for years her prayer was superficial, John of the Cross' constant challenge to mortification lest the self dominate--all manifest the eternal conflict between the ego and divine love. Marvelously God has withheld rest so that we can never be at full peace unless we center on him. George Herbert saw this and recorded it magnificantly: When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by, Let us (said he) pour on him all we can; Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, Contract into a span. So strength first made a way; Then beauty flow'd, then wisdom, honor, pleasure: When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that, alone of all his treasure, Rest in the bottom lay. For if I should (said he) Bestow this jewel also on my creature, He would adore my gifts instead of me, And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: So both should losers be. Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness; Let him be rich and weary, that at least, if goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to my breast.~7 6. Silence, Solitude and Surrender are Conditions for Pra~er2s When it happens, therefore, that a person is conscious in this manner of being placed in solitude and in the state of listening, he should even forget the practice of loving attentiveness I mentioned so as to remain free for what the Lord then desires of him The beginning of integrity is not effort but surrender; it is simply the opening of the heart to receive that for which the heart is longing. The healing of mankind begins whenever any man ceases to resist the love of God.n° Good as is discourse, silence is better, and shames it. The length of the discourse indicates the distance of thought betwixt the speaker and the hearer, if they were at a perfect understanding in any part, no words would be necessary thereon. If at one in all parts, no words would be suffered,n~ ZrGeorge Herbert, "'The Pulley." 28Lk 22:39-46; Mt 6:5-6. ~°St. John of the Cross, p. 623. n°Caryll Houselander, quoted in Maisie Ward, Caryll Houselander: That Divine Eccentric (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1962), p. 279. n~"Circles," Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson (New York: The Book League of America, 1941), p. 106. 32~i / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 This SSS Principle (Silence, Solitude, Surrender) establishes the dis-positions allowing for union with God. Simply by looking at their opposites we realize how important they are. Constant chatter impedes prayer ("In your prayers do not babble as the pagans do." Mt. 6:5); crowding our lives with activities and people stifles the inner agenda; clutching desperately to our own wills thwarts the realization of the Father's will. In a culture that is activistic and grasping, the qualities of silence, solitude and surrender are not easy to come by. We must recognize the influence of the external environment on the internal milieu. Diligence and discipline are required if we are to grow in a rich, interior silence; courage and trust, if we are to dwell alone with the Other; love and generosity, if we are to accomplish the Lord's will freely. The attainment of a given end necessitates using an appropriate means. The house of the Lord is attained by traveling the path of silence, solitude and surrender. The path is narrow, perhaps peopled by few. Desire for union with God provides the enthusiasm to set out and continue on the journey. The greatest tragedy is to ignore the voices that call us to love, to dwell with many and not to have the One, to retain a false freedom at the cost of life. 7. The Tone of Prayer is One of Reverence and Awe:~" Then prayer is a witness that the soul wills as God wills, and it eases the conscience and fits man for grace. And so he teaches us to pray and to have firm trust that kve shall have it; for he beholds us in love, and wants to make us partners in his good will and work.3'~ Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit round and pluck blackberries?4 First, therefore, I invite the reader to the groans of prayer through Christ crucified. through whose blood we are cleansed from the filth of vice-- so that he not believe that reading is sufficient without unction. speculation without devotion, investigation without wonder, observation without joy. work without piety, knowledge without love, understanding without humility '~21s6:1-9: Ps 118:5-7. :~Julian of Norwich: Showings. translated from the critical text with an introduction by Edmund Colledge. O.S.A. and James Walsh. S.J. (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 253. '~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Aurora Leigh.'" Principles of Prayer / 399 endeavor without divine grace, ¯ reflection as a mirror without divinely inspired wisdom?5 A personal attitude toward a particular person or object is known as tone. Hostility, lack of openness and prejudices are negative attitudes creating an atmosphere (tone) of fear and discomfort; gentleness, respect and affability are positive attitudes promoting a climate (tone) of warmth and joy. The interior manner by which we approach God is of great impor-tance in prayer. Julian of Norwich writes that, when one is comfortable in coming to the Lord, deeper experiences of prayer are possible: And so'prayer makes harmony between God and man's soul, because when man is at ease with God he does not need to pray, but to contemplate reverently what God says.3s Though our tone is important, of greater significance is the manner in which God comes to us in prayer. God's attitude flows from his nature, a nature which is summarized in the word love. And love's cousins are reverence and awe. What mystery here !--that our God is so gracious and courteous in his visitations to us. Julian of Norwich shares her experience of God's tonality: Of everything which I saw, this was the greatest comfort to me, that our Lord is so familiar and so courteous, and this most filled my soul with delight and surety?7 When entering into prayer it is of great profit to ask for the Spirit of reverence and awe, that same Spirit which empowered Jesus as he ad-dressed the Father in silence and solitude. Reverence and awe are essen-tially gifts and are to be asked for. When gifted with these gentle attitudes our prayer takes on an entirely different quality. Without these gifts our hearts are stifled and our service cool. The reverent feel deeply and serve generously; the awe-filled see with wonder and hear with trembling. 8. God's Activity in Prayor is Fat" More Important Than Out" Activity:~s ,, Prayer is a personal response to God's presence. It is more something that God does to us, rather than anything we do. This means that God first makes himself present to us. Prayer is our awareness of and then response to God?~ In this interior union God communicates himself to the soul with such genuine love that no mother's affection, in which she tenderly caresses her child, nor brother's love, nor friendship is comparable to it. The tenderness and truth of love by which the immense Father favors and exalts this humble and loving soul reaches such a de-gree-- O wonderful thing] worthy of all our awe and admiration--that the Father himself becomes subject to her for her exaltation, as though he were her servant and :~SBonaventure: The Soul's Journey into God, translation and introduction by Ewert Cousins (New York: Paulist Press. 1978), pp. 55-56. a~Showings, p. 159. arll?id., p. 136. asPs 138; Jo 6:44. a~Fr. Armand Nigro,-Prayer" (source unknown). 330 I Review for Religious, Volume 38, 197913 she his lord. And he is as solicitous in favoring her as he would be if he were her slave and she his god. So profound is the humility and sweetness of God!4° In the first place it should be known that if a person is seeking God, his Beloved is seeking him much more.4~ Self-sufficiency is a trait much admired by our culture. Nothing happens unless we make it happen; being responsible implies the to~al management of our lives, including the spiritual domain. Control is the goal. With such a mentality it is not surprising that God's invitations and graces fall on deaf ears and are unseen because of our blindness. We simply are not open to outside motivation; we are dancers who must always lead. The conse-quence of such a disposition is tragic: "A person extinguishes the spirit by wanting to conduct himself in a way different from that in which God is leading him.''42 While acknowledging both the necessity and health of self-reliance in its deepest meaning, complete self-motivation leads to stagnation and death~ Faith tells us that God always takes the initiative, that Christian life is a radical response to what God speaks and calls us to do. In no way does this deny the principle that we are challenged to make things happen, not just let them happen. But it affirms that our "making" is consequent upon the word of our Father. The Christian heart, in wisdom, seeks simply to please the Father, whatever is asked. Though the request may be sur-rounded by darkness, though his thoughts and ways differ from our own, the challenge will remain the same: "Our task is always the humble and courageous one of listening obediently and acting boldly.''4:~ Hopefully our activity flows from that deep listening to the word of God. The day begins with a listening disposition; it ends with a review of our response to the Father's word. Thus, prayer is dialogic. Aword is spoken in love and answered out of love; the answer itself becomes the substance for the next movement in the warm, mutual relationship between God and his creature. The familiarity here is profound; its absence creates an incredible loneliness and a haunting restlessness. o There is no One Way of Praying: Pluralism in Prayer Must Be Carefully Safeguarded44 If while the soul is meditating the Lord should suspend it, well and good; for in that case he will make it cease meditation even against its own will. I consider it quite certain that this method of procedure is no hindrance to the soul but a great help to it in everything that is good; whereas, if it labored hard at meditation in the way 4°Sl. John of the Cross, p. 517. 4tlbid., p. 620. 4Zlbid., p. 232. 4aRomano Guardini, The Life of Faith, translated by John Chapin (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1961), p. 106. 44Col 3:12-17; Lk 4:42-44. Principles of Prayer / 33"1 I have already described, this would indeed be a hindrance--in fact, I believe such labor is impossible for a'person who has attained greater heights. This may not be so with everyone, since God leads souls by many ways, but those who are unable to take this road should not be condemned or judged incapable of enjoying the great bless-ings contained in the mysteries of Jesus Christ our God.45 I do not say this without reason, for, as I have said, it is very important for us to realize that God does not lead us all by same road, and perhaps she who believes herself to be going along the lowest road is the highest in the Lord's eyes. So it does not follow that, because all of us in this house practice prayer, we are all perforce to be contem-platives. 46 God leads each one along different paths so that hardly one spirit will be found like another in even half its method of procedure.4~ Uniqueness of personality structure helps to specify what form and style of prayer is most appropriate for the individual. God works with and through our individuality. How dangerous, therefore, to simply adopt someone eise's manner of praying. Sheer imitation is not only foolish but can be injurious to one's spiritual life, leading to frustration and discourage-ment. A popul~tr expression states: "Different strokes for different folks!" So in the spiritual life: different prayers for different cares. Prayer is as varied as people with the commonality coming in the wor~d-.responsp pat-tern underl~,ing all communication between God and his pe6ple. Just as p.rayer varies from person to perso~n, prayer also varies within each person's life. During certain periods of faith developme'.~t'~, Vocal and formal pray.er may well be the best form of prayer for that time; at other stages, meditative or contemplative prayer may be in orde~r. Further, prayer styles may change within the course of a single week, even in the course of a single hour of prayer. Form and style is not the heart of the fiaatter; what is of essence is personal encounter with God. Once that experience hap-pens, we simply rest in his presence. "As soon as God's word makes its impact, we must leave all the rest and follow it."48 Prayer is a means to an end; the end is union with God. The paths to union are multiple. The necessary pluralism is threatened by stereotyping and rigid con-formity. Granting the validity, indeed the necessity, of a certain measure of uniformity in public prayer, the principle to be followed in personal, private prayer is that of freedom. Only the individual knows the context of his/her own life; it is the context that sets {he parameters for the form and style of prayer. Because our context is cbntinually changing, prayer forms must adapt themselves accordingly. Thus pluralism becomes a principle neces-sary for spiritual health and growth. ~sSt. Teresa, II, pp. 307-308. 46lbid., p. 69. 4TSt. John of the Cross, p. 633. 4~Hans Urs von Balthasar, Prayer, tr., A. V. Littledale (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961), p. 108. ~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 10. Prayer Leads to Intimacy With God and to Solidarity With All Creation4~ It should be noted that until the soul reaches this state of union of love, she should practice love in both the active and contemplative life. Yet once she arrives, she should not become involved in other works and exterior exercises that might be of the slightest hindrance to the attentiveness of love toward God, even though the work be of great service to God. For a little of this pure love is more precious to God and the soul and more beneficial to the Church, even though it seems one is doing nothing, than all these other works put together.~ In prayer ! can enter into contact with the God who created me and all things out of love. In prayer I can find a new sense of belonging since it is there that I am most related We are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love:52 Activities find their meaning in terms of their goal. The end of the spiritual life is union with God and by means of this unity we are myste-riously united to all of creation. Oneness is attained by love; prayer is a central Iove-act'in our lives. Through the ongoing communication with God, we grow in mutual knowledge and respect until one day we awake to an intimacy incapable of description. The bonding here is subtle and myste-rious, powerfi)l and challenging. The Lord stands at the door knocking and a choice t]as to be made. Following our "Fiat," God comes to dwell with us and our homes are never the same. Prayer's unifying power does not terminate in intimacy with God alone. Authentic prayer necessitates ever deeper union with our brothers and sisters. To be united to the Father means to be united to his children, the entire family of God. The closer we are to the cross of Christ and the power of the Spirit, the closet" we are to all of life. By touching the fountain of life and holiness, we touch all creation. Thus, without prayer a sense of aliena-tion and isolation invades our hearts. Separated from the source we cannot come into vital contact with the created world. Prayer gives us entrance not only into the heart of our triune God but also into the mystery of his loving creation. Because prayer fosters intimacy it is not uncommon for fear to block our communication with God. Intimacy means to know and to be known whole; such radical sharing implies the possibility of radical rejection. Perhaps we are not sure that we are all that lovable. Thus it is in faith and trust that we approach our God, believing that he loves us unconditionally; it is with humility and courage that we approach our brothers and sisters knowing 49Ps 139: Jr 31:31-34. ~°St. John of the Cross, p. 523. ~Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Genesee Diary: Report from a Trappist Monastery (New York: Doubleday & Company. 1976), p. 51. ~2George Herbert, -The Little Black Boy." Principles of Prayer / 333 that through grace we can accept them and that they can accept us. Prayer involves revelation, acceptance and humility; it demands faith, trust and courage. Gifted by the Spirit, we enter the land of prayer and therein find our happiness. The Journey and the Map In discussing any one aspect of the spiritual life we must view it con-textually. This paper points out ten signs on the road to union: prayer as loving attention, prayer's relationship to love, prayer's need for discipline, prayer and proper identity, prayer's focus, the conditions for prayer, prayer's tonality, source of prayer, the principle of pluralism, and prayer's goal. A corresponding set of principles marking out other aspects of the terrain in the spiritual life could easily be worked out and these would provide meaning in such areas as ministry and asceticism. The map is large; we have considered but one aspect. Regardless of the principle and its specification, the destination is always the same: the experience of Love. That experience comes alive when we move from the map to the land it describes. Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called William Meninger, O.C.S.O. Father Meninger is a monk of St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, MA 01562. ~n the foreword to his beautiful treatise on contemplative prayer, the unknown author of the 14th century Cloud of Unknowing describes the kinds of persons who should, and those who should not read his little book. He swiftly eliminates: worldly gossips, flatterers, the scrupulous, busy-bodies, hypocrites, and those who are simply curious--whether they are educated or not. Then he goes on to describe those whom grace has pre-pared to grasp his message. These are people who, every now and then, taste something of contemplative love by way of the action of the Holy Spirit in the very center of their souls, exciting them to love. This ought to include, at some time or other of his or her life, every Christian. That is to say, contemplative prayer, in some form or other, really is for everyone. Instead of speaking of the "extra6rdinary" grace of contemplative prayer (the beginnings of which, at least, we are here equating with Centering Prayer), we should speak of the extraordinary grace of prayer itself. Given the great miracle of prayer itself, contemplative prayer, as well as every other degree or intensity of prayer, ought to follow naturally, as it were. Origen, one of the earliest of the fathers of the Church, in his com-mentary on the Our Father, says that the most marvelous thing about this prayer is not any particular phrase included in it, but the very fact that we can say it at all. The extraordinary grace lies in our God-given ability to bridge the infinite gap between God and man and to converse with him 334 Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called / 335 face to face, in a word, to pray. Once we understand this, the place con-templative prayer can and should have is no longer a problem. Prayer differs from prayer, not in essence, but merely in its degree of intensity. Basically the simplest recitation of the Our Father in faith, hope and love by .any child is the same as the most profound communion in a silence beyond words of the greatest mystic. The difference can be found in degree or intensity but not in the nature of prayer itself. In any prayer, of whatever type or intensity, the one praying so enters into the triune life of God that he becomes one with the Holy Spirit pre-cisely as the Spirit is the fullest expression of the love of the Father for the Son and of the Son for the Father. The one who prays becomes, as it were, the H01y Spirit, and ,this prayer activity becomes the trinitarian expression of God loving himself. What then is contemplative prayer? How does it differ in intensity from other degrees of prayer? To answer these questions we have to look at prayer as a human relationship. For this, indeed, it truly is: a relationship with God, of course;but because it is the relationship of a human person with God it must, as are ~ali his relationships, be a human relationship. A simple' understanding of this obvious fact will take us a long way in understanding prayer. The man-to-God relationship is human. Obviously it is a graced rela~ tionship, but, nonetheless, it is still human. A man-to-man relationship is also human, and it is by understanding this kind of relationship that we can come to a deeper understanding of the man,to-God, or prayer re]ationship. Let us take a concrete example of a human, man-to-woman relationship and see how it helps us to understand our prayer-,relationship with God, 'At some .social gathering, let us say, a party, John meets Mary. And, of course, Mary meets John. The hostess introduces them in typical fashion: "John, I would like you tomeet my good friend, Mary. Mary, I would like you to meet my cousin, John. John, you will be happy to know that Mary is also a rabid baseball fan!" The hostess then walks away, leaving them together. Now, if John and Mary simply stand there awkwardly staring at nothing and saying nothing, the relationship will end before it really begins. However, this is why the hostess, conscious of her role, has indicated their mutual interest in baseball. It provides them with enough background to pursue their acquaintanceship. And so, with so superficial and external a beginning, John and Mary enter that level of human relationship that we call acquaintance. It is not a deep relationship. Even so, should they find it difficult to continue the conversation, the ensuing silence would be uncomfortable, even embar-rassing. Still, at this level, such personal things as deeper aspirations, peak experiences, intimate feelings, or life goals are not shared. This, then, isa human relationship on the first, most primitive level that. of acquaintance. The couple meet, introduced by a third party who gives 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 them some mutual background, and they pursue the relationship from there--or allow it to die. Understanding that our prayer relationship is simply a human relationship with God,. it, too, must have an acquaintance level. And it does. This began for most of us in early childhood when a third party, perhaps our mother or father, introduced us to God, gave us some background (as the hostess did to John and Mary), and told us that God loved us and would answer prayers. "This is Jesus. He is God. He loves you and will answer your prayers." And so we began our first level of relationship with God, the level of acquaintance. This level expresses itself mostly in the simpler prayers requesting favors or in memorized prayers said without any profound comprehension. We have many relationships on this first level--we have many mere acquaintances. The tCagedy is that for some, the relationship with God never develops beyond this level. Their prayer life is limited to periodic appeals for divine help in times of trouble. But let us return to our example of John and Mary. As a result of the small talk characteristic of their acquaintance-relationship, each begins to recognize in the other certain qualities which make their relationship worth pursuing. Each desires to get to know the other better. In order to do this, they make a "date," they make arrangements to get together, just the two of them, so they can share and become further acquainted with those attractive qualities they are beginning to recognize in each other. Now they begin to reveal more and more of their personal feelings, experiences, ideas and goals in their conversation. Perhaps John tells Mary things about himself that he has never before revealed to anyone. And her response is more sympathetic than any he has ever found before. Some-times this response is merely a comfortable, accepting silence; for no longer is silence between them awkward and uncomfortable. It is no longer a negative thing but as they get to know each other better and better, what had been just a void becomes filled with one another. They have now entered, not into a different kind of human relationship, but into a deeper, more intense one. We will call this deeper level the relationship of friend-ship. Remembering that our prayer relationship with God is also a human relationship, we willexpect to find the same thing happening here. After we become acquainted with God, on the first level, we begin to recognize that He has qualities worth pursuing. And so we do just what John and Mary did--we make a "date" with God! We go apart with him in order to learn more about him and also to reveal to him intimate, personal thoughts and concerns. This is done in many, many different ways. We may attend some form of religious instruction where we learn to know God better. We may read and meditate and listen to the Scriptures where God personally reveals himself to us. Whatever the source, we begin to allow his truths to form our Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called / 337 lives. We talk over with him our successes and failures, our new begin-nings. We internalize his truths and live his life of grace as we witness them in others or as we read the reflections of others about them. In other words by reflection or "discursive meditation," as we call it, we become ac-customed to speaking with God on a personal level, revealing ourselves to him, and, at the same time, learning about him from the truths of his revelation. Our acquaintanceship with God has deepened to the level of friendship. It would be well here to emphasize one point. The friendship between John and Mary is going to endure only as long as~ in some way or other, they continue to find interest in sharing with one another, to '~date" in some fashion or other. They must, even if it is only by telephone or by mail, keep up contact with one another. We have all experienced the strangeness of an old friendship which, after years without contact, descends once again into the awkwardness of mere acquaintance. And so it is with God. If we are to continue with him, we must per-severe in our spiritual reading, in our reflective meditation. Friendships do not remain stable. Either they are cultivated and grow, or they lessen. God, by reason of the free, bountiful bestowal of his grace, is always actively encouraging a growth in our friendship with him--Imagine! He finds quali-ties in us worth pursuing! It remains for us to cooperate. Let us look now at the third level of a developing human relationship as we see it in John and Mary. 'As they continue to grow closer to one another, the relationship be-tween John and Mary takes on physical overtones. They desire not only the intimacy of shared thoughts, but also physical closeness. This is the time when they are hardly ever seen alone. Walking arm in arm, holding hands, embracing--all these manifestations emerge now. This level of relationship, sometimes called romantic love or affection (the affective level), when it has been preceded by a genuine friendship, represents an authentic growth in John and Mary's relationship. If it has not been preceded by friendship in some way, it is merely an animal relationship. This affective relationship will develop most completely in marriage where the sharing of both per-sonalities and bodies find their fullest expression. But how can this human relationship on the physical, affective level express itself in our human, prayer relationship with God? It must do this somehow if, as we have been insisting, our prayer-relationship is a human one. And it does! Spiritual masters have given us many descriptions of this level of prayer. Some even refer to it as "the honeymoon period'~ because of its brevity, its place early in the prayer-relationship, and because of its emotional (physical, affective) elements. During this period, prayer often takes the form of intimate conversations with God, not infrequently accompanied by tears~ profound, emotionally felt sorrow for sins and a lively joy at the 33~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 realization of God's love and redemptive activity. This period (as well as the earlier friendship level) may often be interspersed with longer or shorter periods of dryness or aridity as God leads us into a deeper, firmer relation-ship. One o.f the most obvious forms of this affective prayer-relationship with God is seen in the charismatic renewal. When someone is prayed over for the anointing of the Spirit, he is not infrequently "zapped," as it were. This is often accompanied by tea~s, intermingled with expressions of joy and a desire to express and to share with others the abundant overflow of graces. More often, perhaps, it is a quieter experience which serves to fill and inform the basic prayer structures presented by the Church for our worship. This affective level has a great deal to do with the effectiveness of our formal prayer. In the liturgy, for example, the priest is given a structure (readings, prayers, canon). The power in grace that this structure is able to communicate depends in great part (though not entirely) on the depth, of faith, hope and love of the minister. On the part of the participant, the level of his affective prayer-relationship with God will determine to a great extent how much he will grasp of the readings and prayers. In other words, our affective prayer-relationship with God is dependent on our friendship with him. If we do not keep faithful to our periodic "dates" with him, going apart with him for a while, then our affective prayer relationship, as well as our friendship, will degenerate to mere acquaintanceship. Now for a final look at John and Mary. Picture them, if you will, after many years of a long, sometimes difficult, but still happy marriage. Their children are grown, married and gone. John and Mary are back where they began--just the two of them sitting alone of an evening in their home. John perhaps is reading the sports page. Mary is knitting booties for a grand-child. Neither is speaking. Indeed, Mary knows by now just how John feels about everything under the sun. John is equally aware of Mary's thoughts. Yet there is a deep communion between them that does not require words. They are happy just to be in one another's presence. This is what we call the relationship of love. Verbal expressions, words and symbols are no longer necessary or even adequate for John and Mary to communicate. Their deepest relationship is known, felt and expressed by something much more complete than the partial, inadequate attempts to verbalize it. Presence to one another without words or other external signs can be the fullest expression of this human relationship of love. And so it isqn our developing relationship with God. The fourth level of our prayer is the relationship of love, or, what we call "contemplative prayer." It is a simple, quiet, peaceful abiding in his presence, One old man who spent hours daily in the church was once asked by St. John Vianney what he did during all that time. "I don't do anything," he replied. "I just Contemplative Prayer: Many Are Called / 339 look at him and he looks at me." This is contemplative prayer! Contemplative prayer is a very natural, very simple, albeit graced thing which is lived rather than taught. It is a quiet, loving gazing on the face of God (with the eyes of the soul) who is recognized, often even felt by his touching the soul, as present. God is known now, not through the medi-ation of words, or thoughts, or things. These have been used in earlier relationships and have served their purpose. God is seen now with and within the innermost center of the soul, not in light but in darkness, a darkness which is not the mere absence of light but the blinding effulgence of infinite light. He is heard now, not in words, but in the Word who cries "Abba, Father" in the Holy Spirit in a profound and filled silence. One other thing ought to be mentioned in regard to all of the levels of our prayer relationship with God. We must respond in accord with each level of relationship to the voice of God as he manifests his will in our lives. This involves a genuine attempt to make central in our lives the Great Commandment of love, a wholehearted and generous response to the guid-ance of his Church, a frequent and informed participation in 'the sacra-ments, and a continued effort to carry out the duties of our particular vocation in life. Eventually these things will themselves be seen as part of our prayer-relationship also. The distinction between prayer and activity will become less and less significant until everything we do becomes a response to, and thus a part of, our prayer life. It is important to stress the normality of these relationships--both with others in our daily life and with God in our prayer. The progression from acquaintanceship to love is a natural one (and only because of this is it able to be a supernatural one--grace builds on nature). We are all called to love God. And as Saint Bernard says: "The measure of our love is to love without measure." The precise manner or tradition or school of spirituality which we em-ploy to develop and express this love will vary with various individuals. There are many ladders of ascent to God. Each has to find his or her own way. Nonetheless, it remains true that in our day, the approach to God sometimes called Centering Prayer" or "the work of love" (as it is termed in the, fourteenth-century Cloud of Onknowing) has proven helpful to many either as an introduction to contemplative prayer or as a simple, system-atic approach which clarifies and facilitates contemplation. Centering Prayer i:loes presuppose, in some way or other, that we are ready for the love-relationship with God, that we have already passed through the levels of acquaintanceship, friendship, and affection, that we do feel, as the Cloud of Unknowing says, "every now and then a taste of contemplative love, by way of the action of the Holy Spirit in the very center of their souls, exciting them to love." Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope for the Human Personality in St. John of the Cross Joyce Hampel, C.S.J. This article is an outgrowth of a graduate course followed by Sister Joyce at Gonzaga Univer-sity in Washington. She resides in Star of the Sea Convent: 4350 Geary Blvd. : San Francisco, CA 94118. ~t begins, according to St. John of the Cross, with a certain burning Jove. God reaches down, takes your hand, and guides you along the way to a place you know not (N 2, 16, 7*). There you no longer understand by means of your natural light, but by means of the divine wisdom to which you are united. You no Iong.er love in a lowly manner, but with the strength and purity of the Holy Spirit. Your memory, too, is changed into presentiments of eternal glory (N 2, 4, 2). Having reached the end of your journey of love, you and your beloved are one. "Happy is the life and state," declares St. John of the Cross, "and happy the person who attains it" (C 28, 10). John of the Cross images the human personality as participant in the life of the living God. For the person seeking God, it is God who communicates himself. And it is in the transformation of the person in God that the two become one, "as a window united with a ray of sunlight, or coal with fire, or starlight with the light of the sun" (C 26, 4). Throughout John's writings, *Symbols: A, The Ascent of Mount Carmel N, The Dark Night C, The Spiritual Canticle" F, The Living Flame of Love 340 Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope in John of the Cross / 34"1 the human person is challenged to a process of awakening and purification, making him more and more capable of God. This transformation is par-ticularly emphasized as a growth into freedom realized in fourareas of human life: stillness of spirit, radical simplicity, authentic love, and intimate knowledge of Christ the Word. Essential to each of these is the new life of God rooted in the soul, comparable in John to the perfected evolution of aged wine and tried lovers. In his Spiritual Canticle, John's bride-soul sings: In the inner wine cellar I drank of my Beloved, and, when I went abroad Through all this valley I no longer knew anything, And lost the herd which I was following (stanza 26). The image of wine is for John a helpful one in instructing spiritual persons. It suggests all the stages of spiritual growth, and parallels the relationship between lovers. "New lovers," says John, "are comparable to new wine. They are beginners in the service of God" (C 25, 10). While in the process of fermentation, wine is incomplete; its good qualities and value are uncertain, and its taste is sharp. New lovers are also in a process of fermentation. They often rely on exterior fervor, finding strength in the "savor of love" alone. Such love cannot be trusted; in fact, it carries such anxieties that the lovers are more often fatigued than refreshed. Just as this fervor and the warmth of sense can incline one to good and perfect love, and serve as a beneficial means for such love by a thorough fermentation of the lees of imperfection, so too it is very easy in these beginnings and in this novelty of tastes that the new wine of love fails and loses its fervor and delight (C 25, 10). On the other hand, old wine offers transformed refreshment. Its fer-mentation is complete, its good quality is evident, its taste is smooth. The strength of aged wine lies not in the taste, however, but in the substance. "Old !overs," reflects John, "~hose who are exercised and tried in the service of the Bridegroom, are like old wine" (C 25, 11). The souls are at rest, afflictions of love no longer burden the sense of spirit. "Spiced wine" flows in them from the "balsam of God" (C stanza 25). Such love is based not on sensible delights, as is th~ love of new lovers, but settled within the soul, in spiritual substance and savor, and truly good works (C 2~, I I). John's hope for the human personality is reflected in this example of tried love: the person is still and rests in his Beloved; sensory delights and dangers no longer affect him, for he loves only One; the essence of the " person seeks a quality of love that is purged of selfishness and hardly ever fails the Beloved; and knowledge of God clothes the person with a di~)inity that, as we shall see, is fastened on Christ alone (A 2, 22, 5). 342 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 In reflecting on the perfection of the human personality, we so often think of human capabilities as powers--powers that men and women use to control, 6r at least influence, an external force. John of the Cross, however, speaks not so much of power.or amassed capabilities as he does of sur-render. The person chooses, having already experienced the infinite love of the Lord, to hand over to him all his powers. Human perfection rests, then, in allowing another, the one who is totally other, to move him. It is a process of holding back desire~, of permitting another to enter your life, of losing some of self in order to become gr~eater. This first movement toward stillness of spirit is described in John's Ascent of Mount Carmel. "Renounce and remain empty of any sensory satisfaction that is not purely for the honor and glory of God" (A 1, 13, 14); "enter into complete nudity, emptiness, and poverty in everything" (A 1, 13, 6). Such a self-emptying will bring the stillness that one desires. John's diagram of the ascent speakseven more clearly: In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing, nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humility. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied.(A 1, 13, 11). The mark of a person who has achieved this spirit is that he is able to "abide in quietude" (A 2, 12, 8). He can give loving attentiveness to the Lord because he has learned to be empty. Like the wine that has stopped effer-vescing, he is still. The journey that is ahead of him will surely bring darkness and pain, but trust in God effects its own inner peace. It is significant .to mention the underlying attitude that accompanies a still heart. The' person must be able to see himself in relation to God, and to exercise the patience that will allow transformation in God to happen. This is one of John's hopes for the human personality, but not everyone achieves it. Many "would rather want all to be perfect, but God finds fe~v vessels that will endure so lofty and sublime a work" (F 2, 27). Waiting is the first act of love. "God usually does things, not so there will be an immediate understanding of them, but that afterwards at the proper time, or when the effect is produced, one may receive light about them" (A 2, 20, 3). God knows what he is doing. It is we who do not know how to be still in his hands. The second characteristic John anticipates is radical simplicity. In the darkness of its cask, wine becomes mellow when the lees of the grapes settle. The liquid has taken into itself the deep color of the skins and drawn from the pulp its delicate flavors. But the wine must be purged of the sediment before it can exhibit the valued clarity. So too with the spiritual journeyer. Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope in John of the Cross / 343 To journey to God, the will must walk in detachment from every pleasant thing, rather than in attachment to it. It thus carries out well the commandment to love, which is to love God above all things; this cannot be done without nakedness and emptiness concerning them all (F 3, 51). Such poverty requires radical denial and convergent vision. For John, this implies a todo-nada approach to the search for human fulfillment in God. You must want nothing and have nothing in order to possess everything: :For to go from all to the all you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your hll (A 1, 13, 11). All sensory desires, all thoughts,oall imaginings, all passions must find their satisfaction in the mercy of God alone. At the same time, the person must consider the life God offers him his only treasure. To rely on appre-hensions, natural or supernatural, would be to hold God in less esteem than we should. "God makes the ~soul die to all that he is not, so that when it is stripped and flayed of its old skin, he may clothe it anew., and thus this soul will be a soul of heaven, heavenly and mor.e divine than human" (N 2, 16, 7). The human person becomes more than the limitations of his appetites formerly allowed. The person becomes divine. "God loves us," writes John to one of his directees, "that we might love b~ means of the very love he bears toward us" (Letter 33). Embodied in this statement is John's third hope foi" human growth, authentic love. It is not enough to love what is good and to'avoid what is evil. An investment must be made of all that is truly human. Every passion, e~,ery hope, must be purified and directed toward the Lord of all ~reation. John admonishes 'the spiritual person to Rejoice only in what is purely for God's honor and glory, hope for nothing else, feel sorrow only about matters pertaining to this, and fear only God (A 3, 16, 2). Joy,, hope, sorrow; and fear are worthy of human attention only insofar as they are bound to God. "My every act is love,'? says the bride of the Spiritual Canticle. "Everything I do, I do with love, and everything I suffer, .I suffer with the delight of love" (C 28, 4). Authentic love immerses the total person in a self-effacing commitment. One loves with one's bodyand with one's spirit, with emotions as well as intellect. The will seeks only to love with the love of God, to "reach the consummation of the love of God" and the "essential glory to which he predestined her from the day of his eternity." (C 38, 2). In reflecting the gift of the whole person, authentic love brings the sensitive and the spiritual parts of the person into conformity with each other. The "sensory faculties ¯ ~.'. share in and enj6y in their own fashion the spiritual grandeurs which God is communicating 'in the inwardness of the spirit" (C 40, 5). To refer 344 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 once again to the quality of aged wine or old lovers, individual elements intermingle to become essentially one creation, new and ever fulfilling. Union with the Beloved requires stillness, simplicity, and authentic love. Consummation of that union requires an intimate knowledge of Christ the Word. "Fasten your eyes on him alone," instructs God the Father, "because in him I have spoken and revealed all, and in him you shall discover even more than you ask for and desire" (A 2, 22, 5). Left to his own, the human person cannot know God. Echoing the words of the prophet Isaiah~ his eyes have never even seen the things that God wills for him. Christ came to reveal to mankind the Father. It was in his humanity, in his life of human joys and disappointments and hopes and pain that Jesus calls us to our human perfection. "I have now called you my friends," he says, "because all that I have heard from my Father I have manifested to you" (Jn 15:15, see C 28, 1). To imitate Jesus in all that one does is John of the Cross' teaching; to live with Jesus in union with the Father is his hope. Even though this happy night darkens the spirit, it does so only to impart light concerning all things: and even though it humbles a person and reveals his miseries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes him and empties him of all possessions and natural affection, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things, with a general freedom of spirit in them all (N 2, 9, 1). Do not seek Christ without the cross, John writes; let Jesus be in your soul (Letters 22 & 23). It is Jesus who is the true wine of life. He is the one who brings the person to intimate knowledge of Father-care and Spirit-love. The wine cellar is .the last and most intimate degree of love in which the soul can be placed in this life (C 26, 3). It is filled, relates John, with the gifts of the Holy Spirit in perfection "according to the soul's capacity for receiv-ing them." Even here the gentleness of the all-consuming God allows for differences in the human personality, and brings to each person those gifts that will best fulfill him. Bridegroom and bride "mutually communicate their goods and delights with a wine of savory love in the Holy Spirit" (C 30, 1). How gently and lovingly You wake in my heart, Where in secret you dwell alone; And by your sweet breathing, Filled with good and glory, How tenderly you swell my heart with love! (Living Flame, stanza 4) It begins with God. God reaches down, takes your hand, and guides you along the way to-a place of ineffable love. He teaches you to be still and to await his touch. He strips you of all that is not himself. He draws forth love that is like his own. He gifts you'with the life of Jesus his Son. There are Old Wine and Old Lovers: Hope in John of the Cross 345 two kinds of life according to John of the Cross. One consists in the v~sion of God, which must be attained by natural death; "the other is the perfect spiritual life, the possession of God through union of love" (F 2, 32). This union is John's ultimate hope for the human personality--total transforma-tion in the immense love of the Triune God. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," H. F. Smith, S.J . 30 "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice," M. Oliva, S.J . 50 "Celibate Genitality," W. F. Kraft . 50 ¯ "Celibacy and Contemplation," D. Dennehy, S.J . "i. ¯ .30 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . . 30 "Consciousness Examen," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Institutional Business Administration & Religious," Flanagan and O'Connor . 30 "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" S.C. for Religious . 35 "Prayer of Personal Reminiscence," D. J. Hassell S.J . 60 "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development," P. Cristantiello . 60 "Retirement or Vigii," B. Ashley, O.P . 30 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .75 "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio," M. Neuman, O.S.B . 50 "The Four Moments of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . . . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindeli Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience Francis X. J. Coleman Dr. Coleman is Associate P~'ofessor of Philosophy at Boston University; 745 Commonwealth ¯ Ave.; Boston, MA 02215. When picturing Christfin the way I have mentioned, and sometimes even while reading, I used to experience a consciousness of the presence of God of such a kind that I could not possibly dotibt that He was within me or that 1 wgs wholly engulfed in Him? On September 27, 1970, Pope Paul VI conferred the title of Doctor of the Church on St. Teresa of Avila, thereby placing her in the ranks of such giants as St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas. In his homily delivered at St. Peter'.s Basilica," the pope. spoke of Teresa as "the reformer and founder of an historic and eminent religious order,'~ a prolific writer of great genius, teacher of the spiritual life, an incomparable contemplative who was tire-lessly active." The pope went on to speak of "the holiness of her life. a value which was already officially proclaimed as early as March 12, 1622---St. Teresa died 30 years before--by our predecessor Gregory XV." The pope enquired concerning the source of Teresa's doctrine: :'And we might mention another particular point, the charism of wisdom, which ~AII quotations from St. Teresa's writings are drawn I~rom The Complete Works of Saint Teresa of Jesus, tr. and ed., E. Allison Peers, from the critical.edition of P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, O.C.D. (Sheed and Ward, London and New York: 1950). This citation is from Life, chapt. X. 2The Italian text is in L'Osservatore Romano, Sept. 29, 1970. 3He is referring to the Order of Discalced Carmelites. 346 St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 347 makes us think of the most attractive and at the same time most myst, erious aspect of St. Teresa's title of Doctor: the flow of divine inspiration in this prodigious and mystical writer. From where did the wealth of her do°ctrine come to Teresa?" ~ After mentioning Teresa's cultural and spiritual education, her conver-sations with great masters of theology, her singular sensibility and ascetic discipline, pope Paul asked whether ther~e was not another sourc~ of her "eminent doctrine: . Ought we not re~zognize in St. Teresa acts, facts and states which did not come from her but were undergone by her, things both endured and suffered, mystical things in the" t'rue sense of the word. '~" Pope Paul was sensitive to the grea~t difficulties involved in mystical experience: "'The originality of mystic'ai.adtion is one of the'most delicate and complex of psychological phenomena. Many factors can play a part in ~t, and they oblige the observer to rnaint~ain the severest caution," though he went on to imply that there are som+ who would deny the very possibility of mystical experience itself: ". 15sychoS_nalytic exploration is breaking down that frail and complicated instrument that we are, in such a way that all that can be heard is not the sound~i~f mankind in its sufferin~ and its redemption, but rather the troubled h~utterings of man's animal subcon-scious, the cries of his "disordered passions and of his desperate anguish." What, .then, were the "'acts, facts and states" which did not' originate from Teresa but "were undergone by her"? What are "mystical things in the true sense of the word," according to the first woman doctor of the Church? In this paper i shall attempt some.'answer to these questions. In the first part I shall give a broad survey of the varieties of mystical data to be found in Teresa's writings. These data fall into three main categories: locutions, visions and ecstasies. Then I shall describe how Teresa first reacted to her experiences, what was her reflective doctrine con~zeining the methods of distinguishing demonic deception and/or self-decepti~)n from authentic mystical experience. Next I shall turn to a contemporary of Teresa who recorded his own thoughts concern'ing the supposedly super-natural events in her life. And, finally and ver~;'briefly, I shall attempt a tentative conclusion regarding her value and a method of approaching her .for readers of today. Before beginning,' however, 1 believe it is essential to define the proper place of mystical experience within the Catholic faith. When my,stical ex.pe-rience is construed as some merely private revelation, or when it is con-strued to be irrational, insidious errors inevitably ensue, both of a doctrinal and of a personal sort. Mystical experience must never be pitted against rationality; on the contrary, the immediate experience of the infinite and the transcendent is the ultimate expression of rationality. And, when mystical experience does entail privaie revelation, the sin of pride is always lurking: the mystic may affirm propositions at variance with the traditional and authoritative teachings of the Church, and contumacy is quick to follow. 341~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 As a highly intelligent woman, St. Teresa was aware of how readily people deceive themselves. She knew that there is a special temptation for religious.to delude themselves into believing ttiemselves to be the chosen recipients of some particular revelation. She was especially suspicious of the Alumbrados, or llluminists.,., The Alumbrados were in.many ways the sixteenth-century counterparts of some types of charismatics and other seekers of special gifts in our own day. The Alumbrados were not a sect of Catholicism, but rather a collective term for small groups of priests and lay persons who practiced what they thought to be a new and interior form of Christianity. Opposed to cere-monial liturgical celebration, t.hey placed much emphasis on mental prayer, in the course of which it was assumed that the mind would be subject to a "kindling," a "spiritual flight towards God." Such experiences led to confidence in one's own salvation, the shedding of all fear. In this there were dangerous resemblances to some. contemporary forms of Luther-anism. Moreover, such experience, s were indications of the possession of the state of grace, and the absolute exclusion of sin. Teresa's suspicions stemmed not only from the taint of heresy in their doctrines, but also because the Alumbrados were publically extravagant, laying claim to direct access to the Holy Spirit. To Teresa, the ecstasies and visions of the Alumbrados were either unintentional self-deceptions or intentional deceptions wrought by others upon the hapless victims. Teresa knew, and heard of, nuns who had worked themselves into states that resembled mystical,experience by excessive abuses in the area of penances, with consequent deterioration of their health. In our own day, we know that so-called "hallucinogenic" drugs of various sorts have been used even delibera.tely to replicate the behavioral and bodily manifestations of mys-tical experience. But the result, then as now, is counterfeit. Teresa confesses that she had been influenced by the Alumbrados when she was twenty years of age and had read Fray Osuna. Yet, as her thought and her mystical theology mature, she places less and I~ss emphasis on the sensuous details of her mystical experiences, and more and more weight upon the ineffable and analogical knowledge that is part of such experience, The earliest vision described by Teresa occurred when she was about twenty-one years of age. It must be borne in mind, however, that the description appears in Chapter VII of her Life, the rough draught of which she completed when she was forty-seven years old. Teresa confesses that she had a friendship with a certain woman which was "not good" for her. Although Teresa does not go into details, she states that "Christ revealed himself to me, in an attitude of great sternness, and showed me what was in this that displeased him. I saw him with the eyes of the soul more clearly than I could ever have seen him with those of the body . ,,4 In Chapter X ofherLife, Teresa distinguishes the sort of experience just ~Life, chapt. Vll. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 349 described from the one that she describes as a suspension of the soul. She complains of her imagination, i.e., the ability to conjure up at will a mental image or picture of someone or something, that it was so feeble that if she did not actually see a thing, she could not use her imagination "as other people do, who can make pictures to themselves . "~ Teresa was conse-quently very fond of images and pictures. Although she tried to imagine Christ inwardly, no matter how much she read about him, she could never succeed. She compared herself to a blind person who knows he is talking to some6ne but cannot see him. "I used unexpectedly to experience a consciousness of the presence of God, of such a kind that I could~not possibly doubt that he was within me or that l was wholly engulfed in him.: This was in no sense a vision: I believe it is called mystical theology.''6 Teresa's description of this experience of"divine engulfment" may well have been deformed by the lapse of some twenty-five years when she wrote about it. At any rate, she does not want to call"such an experience a "vision" because the soul does not "see~' anything. "The soul is sus-l~ ended in such a way that it seems to be completely outside itself. Th~ will loves; the memory, I think, is almost lost; while the understanding, I be-lieve, though it is not lost, does not reason--I mean that it does not work, but is amazed at the extent of all it can understand . ,,7 Teresa's "visions," then, do not become rich and graphic until much later in her Life, beginning in Chapter XXXI. Even these, though, were not had by the bodily eye: they were not in a~ny sense objective, shareable, "out there." But neither did the visions consist in a series of merely mental images, for Teresa complains often of her extremely feeble eidetic imagina-tion. She describes these visions as "inward disturbances" and finds it impossible not to detect in them the hand of the devil.~ Teresa felt herself powerless to resist the devil at such times. She felt interior disquiet, but was afraid to ask the other nuns to assist her through the use of holy water (she had learned "from long experience''9 that holy water is the best method to put devils to flight). In one of her most dramatic and painterly visions,;Teresa beheld, while in a state of rapture, a great battle between devils and angels. At the time, she could not understandthe meaning of the vision. A fortnight later, she saw that it was an allegory of nuns, those who did not practice prayer, and those who did.~° In 1559, shortly before the decision to found her first convent~ Teresa had a vision which carried her spirit to a place in .hell. Her description assails each of the senses: "evil-smelling mud," "wicked-looking reptiles," and a claustrophobic sense of containment: "There was a hollow place scooped out of a wall, like a cupbgard, and it was here that I found myself 5Complete Works, I, p. 55. 8Ibid., p. 204. 61bid., p. 58. Slbid., p. 207. 7lbid. 1°Ibid., pp. 208-9. $$0 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 in clos%confinement.''n She suffered from "an oppression, a suffocation and an affliction so deeply felt, and accompanied by such hopeless and distressing misery''t=' that she could not describe it too strongly. Worse than the physical pains were the pains of despair and "interior fires." She felt herself being both burned and dismembered. She was stifled. She found herself in the blackest darkness, .yet she was able to "see everything the sight of which can cause affliction.''t'~ This vision must have occurred when Teresa was about forty-one. When she compared it to the terrible and painful paralysis which struck her at the age of seventeen, she~concluded that the vision of hell was incom-parably more painful. The vision "happened in the briefest space of time."14 Sometimes Teresa's visions were of holy persons who came through such visitations to give her advice. St. Peter of Alcantara, for example, a reformer of the Franciscan Order during the Counter-Reformation, ap-peared to her in a vision to reconfirm his admonition that her convents must not be permitted endowments)5 At other times, Teresa had visions of a dove fluttering over her head, albeit the dove was very different from those one sees on earth: ¯. for it had not feathers like theirs, but its wings were made of little shells which emitted a great brilliance. It was larger than a dove: 1 seem to hear the rustling of its wings. It mu~;t have been fluttering like this for the space of an Ave Maria. But my soul was in such a state that, as it became lost to itself, it also lost sight of the dove.16 According to Teresa's own testimony, the most sublime vision that she ever experienced recurred on four occasions. It involved seeing the Humanity of Christ in a greater glory than she had ever known. Teresa seemed to see herself in the presence of the Godhead.17 The vision, and its recurrences, had the effect of purifying her soul and almost destroying her sensual nature. Using one of her favorite images, that of a consuming fire, Teresa writes .that the vision, through excess, burnt up all her desires for vain things, such as worldly possessions and dignities. The vision made her hair stand on end, causing her "to feel completely annihilated.''is Once, when she was to communicate at-Mass, Teresa saw "with the eyes of the soul, more clearly than ever I could with those of the body, two devils of most hideous aspect,''19 who seemed to have their horns around the priest's throat while heconsecrated. Teresa understood that the priest's soul was in morthl sin, yet this fact did not invalidate the Sacrament. Although she makes no explicit reference to it, this vision gave to Teresa a direct, experiential disproof.of the Donatist heresy. Teresa wryly commented, after describing one vision with elaborate ltl'bid., pp. 215-16. ~';lbid., p. 281. rZlbid., p. 216. t:~lbid. 171bid., p. 273¯ ~lbid., p. 274: ~41bid., p. 215. ~91bid., p. 275. ~lbid., p. 257. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 351 ~ detail, one which was thronged with figures of angels and demons,"° that she does not mind writing all sorts of nonsense provided that she can write sense sometimes, and :bring people closer to God. In regard to the vision just:described, she says that it "will seem meaningless" until it. is seen as an allegory of the teaching that one should not put much trust in anyone, for there is none who never changes except God."~ ~Teresa's visionscan be of an extraordinarily"personal nature. In her Spiritual Relations, Teresa recounts how Christ revealed himself to her "in an imaginary vision, most interiorly," and gave her his right hand, saying, "Behold this nail. It is a sign that from today onward'thou shalt .be my bride . My honor is thine, and thine mine.'.'zz Later in the same work she describes how he gave her a beautiful rihg.with a stone like an amethyst, only brighter, as a pledge that he promised to grant all that she asked him. Yet Teresa quickly breaks off this account with, "1 write this foolish-heSS . ,,23 Even though the imaginary visions ceasedtowards the end of her'life, Teresa was still able to write a year before her °death, from Palencia, in the year 1581, that she still seems to experiencethe intellectual vision of the Three Persons of the Trinity and of Christ's humanity. She states very simply: "I realize now, I think, that the visions which 1 have had were of God, for they prepared my soul for the state in which it now is.'''4 I shall give a much briefer description of Teresa's locutions, mainly because she does so herself, even though they are no less important than her visions. Teresa speaks of her first locution in Chapter XIX of her Life. Finding that many of her sisters were only peripherally religious, Teresa wondered why so few of them.had a true calling, as she believed herself to have. Teresa heard: "Serve thou Me, and meddle not with this.''25 Later, at the age of 42, filled with self-doubt as well as doubts concerning certain friendships, Teresa, at the direction of P. Baltasar Alvarez, recited the hymn Veni Creator. She hea?d the words: "I will have thee converse now, not with men, but with angels.''2" Her locutions are usually brief but always of translucent clarity and distinctness. "Be not troubled; have no fear,"~r or, "1 have heard you; let Me alone.''2s Sometimes they are of a practical nature: "What dost thou fear? When have 1 ever failed thee? I am the same nowas I have always been. Do not give up either of these two foundations,' ,29 or simply, "That is the house for thee.'''~° And sometimes intensely familiar: "Now, Teresa, hold thou fast.''z~ The locutions sometimes seem condescending: "Thou wilt act very 2°lbid., p. 286. 261bid., p. 155. 211bid., p. 287. Z7lbid., p. 200. 2Zlbid., p. 352. ~Slbid., I1!, p. 130. Zalbid,, p. 353. 2~lbid., p. 167. 24lbid., p. 335. Z°lbid., p. 171. ZSlbid., p. !15. ~lbid., p. 194. 352 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 foolishly, daughter, if thou regardest the laws of the world. Fix thine eyes on Me . ":~" Sometimes the locutions instructed her~ why she must not have further raptures in public: "It is not fitting just now. Thou hast as much credit as I desire thee to have . 1 shall cite only one example of Teresa's ecstasies, because this well-known ecstasy suffices. Teresa's own description of the transverberation of her heart occurs in Chapter XXIX of her Life. The ecstasy and vision occurred throughout several days. On her left hand, an angel in bodily form, rather short and beautiful, appeared:with a long, golden spear in his hands. At the end of the iron tip was what seemed like a point of fire. The angel "seemed to pierce my heart several times so that it penetrated to my entrails. When he drew it out, I thought he was drawing them out with it and he left me completely afire, with a great love of God.":~4 II It should not be surprising that when Teresa began telling friends and confessors about such extraordinary events, some persons were certain that she was. possessed,by the devil and should be exorcised?'~ Exorcism was as common, and believed to be as efficacious, in sixteenth-century Spain, as psychoanalysis is in twentieth-century America. In their later lives both St. Teresa and St.: John of the Cross were well known for their prowess in exorcising evil spirits. Teresa, however, was herself never exor-cised. Instead, her confessors commanded her to make the Sign of the Cross whenever she had a vision,, and then to make a sign~ of contempt?~ At one point in her life Teresa herself was afraid that all her spiritual favors might be illusions?7 We know from~a deposition taken from Teresa's niece that Teresa was greatly distressedl when her raptures came upon her in public, and embarrassed when she had to confess her spiritual favors to her confessors.an Teresa had a keen eye for religious fraud and excess. She writes that women are especially susceptible to ruining their health because of exces-sive prayer; ~igils and severe penances. Such women become frail and languorous, falling into stupors which they deceive themselves into think-ing are spiritual?9 She knew that many supposedly religious raptures were nothing but the result of inanition or bad health?° In her own convents, she 321bid., I, p. 338. 33lbid., p. 339. ¯ ~lbid., pp. 192-93. ~lbid., p. 188. a6See ibid., p. 165, n. 3 for the nature of this contemptuous motion. a71bid., p. 287. aSlbid., Ill, p. 366. The niece, also nam.ed Teresa de Jesus, was born in Quito, in present-day Ecuador, in 1566. a9lbid., II, pp. 245-46. For other spiritual excesses condemned by Teresa, see Gerald Brenan, St. John of the Cross, Cambridge University Press, 1973, pp. 16-18. ~°lbid. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 353 made certain that the sisters received adequate food and rest. Teresa could be as detached and objective about her spiritual favors as if they had been granted to someone else. Writing in the third person in the ' Spiritual Relations, Teresa begins by saying "It is forty years since this nun took the habit . ,,4~ Turning to the subject of her "supernatural visita-tions," as she calls them, Teresa writes in a matter-of-fact way: She never saw anything with her bodily eyes, as has been said, but always in such a sul~tle, intellectual way that at first she would sometimes think she had imagined it, though at other times she could not think so. Nor did she even hear anything with her bodily ears, except on two occasions, and on these occasions she could make nothing of what was said and did not know what it was all about.42 Without mentioning Pelagianism, Teresa nonetheless reveals a knowl-edge of that heresy and rejects it as an explanation of her rare experiences: The soul collects wood and does all it can by itself, but finds no way of kindling the fire of the love of God. It is only by his great mercy that the smoke can be seen, which shows that the fire is not altogether dead. ]'hen the Lord comes back and kindles it, for the soul is driving itself crazy with blowing on the fire and rearing the fire more and more. I believe the best thing is for the soul to be completely resigned to the fact that of itself it can do nothing, and busy itself, as I have already suggested, in other meritorious activities, for the Lord may perhaps be depriving it of the power to pray, precisely so that it may engage in these other activities and learn by experience how little it can do of itself.4'~ Regarding the imagination,Teresa argues that it can only recombine what the mind has already experienced, and that it is prey not only to the devil but also to emotions such as melancholy. To affirm or deny anything on the basis of the imagination is invariably to be misled. Teresa concludes that because her visions do not consist of mental images, her imagination or fancy is not the source of her spiritual experiences. Although the devil can give pleasures and delights which might seem spiritual, they are inevitably disruptive of the soul's quiet. The devil might present himself to the imagination in the likeness of Christ, but the mere fact that the devil is making use of the imagination proves that he is bent on deceiving. In a true vision of Christ, he is surrounded in glory; but glory cannot possibly be counterfeited by the imagination because it is a kind of intellectually perceived aura. ~2onsequently, the most that the devil can counterfeit is the flesh.4~ But since God will never give the devil the power to feign his glory--for this would involve the impossible, i.e., divine abdication--the devil can deceive no one when he assumes the likeness of Christ, unless one is willing to be deceived. Teresa calls the devil "a skillful painter.''~'~ But just as a very wicked man might paint a beautiful painting, and one that has good effects, so, too, the devil might conjure up a beautiful image from which one might profit. 411bid., IIl, p. 319. 4~lbid., I, pp. 324-25. "~albid., pp. 264-65. 441bid., pp. 182-83. 451bid., 111, p. 41. 354 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 "We should never allow the identity of the painter to hinder our devo-tion." 46 Similarly, a vision is not good or evil in itself, but in its effects upon the person who has it. Humility~ is essential to drawing profit from a vision: if the vision is of God, but the person who receives it lacks humility, then the vision is wasted; if the vision is from the devil, and the person lacks humility, he will be misled and become even more swollen with pride. Again, although the devil can give delight, he can never conjoin extreme physical or mental pain with tranquillity and joy in the soul. Both the pains and the pleasures caused by the devil necessarily bring restlessness and discord. "Secondly, this delectable tempest comes from another region than those over which he has authority.''47 And thirdly, pain and suffering in which the soul takes delight make one all the more determined to serve God and renounce the ephemeral pleasures of this world. True visions have a clarity and distinctness which prove that they could not be produced either by anything corporeal, or by one's own imagination, or by the devil. If one has any doubts whether or not one has experienced .a true vision, then one can be sure that the vision was spurious. When Teresa had her first mystical experiences, she did not doubt whether they were genuine, but she greatly doubted and feared what other people would say. A genuine vision comes when it is least expected. The content .is no more and no less than what appears to the person having the vision. One of Teresa's confessors tried to force her to fill out the description of Christ, in view of her claim that she had seen him. Teresa replied that when she tried to see the color of his eyes or how tall he was, the vision vanished. One can always be asked to add to a description of something in the phenomenal world; but if a certain quality is not given in a vision--e.g., the Color of Christ's eyes, then the assumption that the quality was in the vision but unobserved is a categorical mistake. The final criterion of a genuine vision is the great peace and tranquillity ¯ produced by it, coupled with a strengthening of one's moral fiber.4s Physical concomitants are also frequent: the soul faints away in a manner which one cannot resist. But these physical repercussions are of relatively minor significance. It seems as if my life is about to end, and this makes me cry aloud and call upon God: this comes upon me with great vehemence. Sometimes it makes me so restless that I cannot remain seated and this trouble attacks me without my havir~g done anything to bring it on . For Ifrom my yearnings] there can be no relief; the only relief for them is the vision of God, which comes through death,, and this 1 cannot obtaih of Him.4~ Much of'what has already been said concerning the differences between authentic and spurious visions also applies to locutions. A few points, 461bid. "~rlbid., II, p. 278. 48lbid., 1, pp. 262-63; il, pp. 296-97. 46lbid., !, p. 306. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience however, should be emphasized. Although clear and distinct, the words of a locution are not heard with the bodily ear; they are more strongly im-pressed upon the understanding than if they were so heard. When one does not want to hear something, one can close one's ears or attend to something else; "But~when God talks in this way to the soul, there is no such remedy: I have to listen, whether I like it or no . -5o The locution is the unique object of one's attention, canceling out all else. Teresa is well aware that persons sometimes "talk" to themselves and deceive themselves into believing it to be some higher, spiritual force communicating with them. But no matter how subtle the locution might be., when the understanding has made up the words itself, one must know that the mind is active, rather than passive and receptive, as it is in genuine, locutions. Spurious locutions always lack the clarity and distinctness of those from God; moreover, one always has the power to divert one's attention from self-spoken locutions. Lastly; counterfeit Io~:utions are empty vocables, effecting nothing. Gen-uine locutions, even if they are of reproof, prepare and move the soul towards greater love, and "give it light and make it happy and tranquil."5~ Sometimes locutions are so lengthy, even though they come in a flash, that one knows that it would have (aken a long time to make them up oneself. ' Teresa argues that one would have to court deception in order to be deceived about~ the true provenance of a locution.5~ Of course one may pretend to having heard a locution, and lie about its contents, but, then, one may lieabout .anything. Divine locutions "instruct us at once, without any lapse of time, 'and by their means we can understand things which it would probably take us a month to makeup ourselves.''5'~ Demonic locutions have only bad effects, and leave one ina state of aridity and. anguish. Teresa is emphatic on the point that no privately heard locution can be contrary to the publicly enunciated doctrine of the Church. If any locution is at variance with Holy Scripture or the teachings of the Church, it must be. from the devil or from one's own self-conceit.54 There emerge, then, three types of locutions: (1) those which are heard by the corporeal sense of hearing; (2) those which are received by the imagination alone but which give the impression of having been heard by the sense of hearing; and (3) those from God, which involve neither sound nor'voice, and which leave an indubitable, fecund, unforgettable and clear concept in: the depths of the spirit. Teresa recommends that anyone who seriously believes he hears locutions of the first two types should be treated like a sick person. He should be advised to pay no heed to the matter: "One: should humor such people so as not 'to distress them further. If one tells 5°Ibid., p. 157. 5llbid., p. 158. 521bid., p. 159. ~lbid., pp. 159-60. 541bid., p. 161. 3*$6 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 them they are suffer.ing from melancholy, there will be no end to it. They will simply swear they see and hear things, and really believe that they do."55 Teresa casts the same clinical eye on nuns who fall into swoons and call them raptures. Such women are of a physically debilitated nature and given to melancholy. Their swoons may last for hours, but nothing productive comes from them. Although swoons and ecstasies may seem alike in some aspects, they are profoundly different. Ecstasy or rapture, which involves the union of all the faculties, is wont to last a very short time. The.soul is enlightened and spiritual effects are produced.56 Rapture is the sign of spiritual betrothal, carrying the soul out of its senses. Sometimes rapture is brought about by God's having compassion on someone who is not actually praying, but "is struck by some word, which it either remembers or hears spoken by God.' ,57 The faculties, as well as the senses, cease to function; nonetheless, God reveals his majesty to the soul. "When the soul is in this state of suspension and the Lord sees fit to reveal to it certain mysteries, such as heavenly things and imaginary visions, it is able subsequently to describe these . ,,~8 But if the visions in the rapture are intellectual, they cannot be described in any earthly terms.5a Yet in the same breath Teresa says: "although after regaining possession of their senses they can often describe many of these intellectual visions.' ,60 Teresa is immediately aware that she is contradicting herself. She tries to get out of the difficulty by saying that Jacob was in a rapture when he had the imaginary vision of the ladder, but he undoubtedly understood greater mysteries and had an intellectual vision which he could only describe in part.61 Similarly, Moses, in his rapture before the burning bush, could describe some of what he saw, but not all; yet Moses must have been impressed with great and ineffable secrets, otherwise he could never have done what he did for the people of Israel.6'-' After an elaborate comparison between seeing the private apartment of a great lord for a few minutes, and God suddenly revealing the vastness of his secrets to the ~oul in ecstasy, Teresa grows impatient with herself and asks, "Is this tantamount to an admission on my part that lthe soul] has really seen something and that this is an imaginary vision?''6~ She wants to be speaking of intellectual visions, and we have already observed how suspicious she is of the imagination. Teresa gets angry with herself: ". I have no learning and am too stupid to explain anything . -64 She characteristically changes the subject, gives a prayer and a few admonitions,.then returns to one of the central themes of,the Interior Castle: the nature of rapture. She describes some of the physical signs: The hands and body grow cold,.breathing ceases, the senses 551bid., II, pp. 279-80. "°lbid. 5nlbid., llI, pp. 27-28. ~lSee Gn 28,12. ~rlbid. "2See Ex 3,2. ~81bid., I1, p. 288. ~Op. cir., 11, p. 289. 5albid. ~41bid., p. 290. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience no longer function. The ecstasy lasts for only a short period of time, then the bodily functions gradually resume while the "profound suspension liftS a little.''~5 For days thereafter, the person might wander about in a stupor, uninterested in anything that does not awaken the faculty of the will to love. The ultimate result of such an ecstasy is good: to work harder for the glory of God. But when Teresa returns to the philosophic problem of describing the nature of rapture, she writes: "To give a full idea of it . . . is impos-sible.""~ Teresa describes another sort of rapture which, though substantially the same as the one described above, causes the soul to become conscious of an exceedingly rapid motion, while the spirit is transported with great speed. Resistance is impossible, even though the person remains in com-plete possession of his senses. To resist only makes the transport more perturbing. One feels as though one is in another world, where the light is. brighter and of a different kind than the brightest sunlight. "In a single instant he is taught so many things all at once that, if he were to labor for years on end in trying to fit them all into his imagination and thought, he could not succeed with a thousandth part of them.''~r When the soul returns from this high transport, "to live on earth is a great affliction to it . That the rapture was caused by God's agency is proved by three effects: (1) a greater consciousness of the greatness of God; (2) a more deeply felt humility and sense of unworthiness; and (3) a supreme contempt for earthly things. Conversely, one might add, if the rapture were caused by a satanic agency, the effects would be greater contumacy, overweening pride and heightened greed. In rapture the body "remains as if dead and unable of itself to do anything: it continues all the time as it was when the rapture came upon it, "in a sitting position, for example, or with the hands open or shut.''69 One rarely loses consciousness altogether. One can still hear and understand, but only dimly: When the faculties are lost through being united to God, and the soul is transformed, one reaches the peak of the rapture. When the soul is thus in union, neither visions nor locutions can occur, because the facul-ties are wholly lost.r° In the Spiritual Relations Teresa gives a long descrip-tion of union, from which I quote a part: I understand that the spirit in union is pure and lifted up above everything earthly, and that there is nothing remaining in it that will depart from the will of God, but that the spirit and the will are in conformity with his will, and detached from everything, and occupied in God so as to leave no recollection of love of self or of any created thing,r~ II1 How did Teresa's contemporaries react to her descriptions of these rare ~51bid., p. 291. ~lbid., p. 292. ~91bid., I, p. 125. 671bid., p. 295. 7°lbid., p. 158. S8lbid., p. 296. 7~lbid., p. 348. 358 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 ¯ phenomena? I shall restrict myself to one contemporary, P. Pedro Ibanez, who commanded Teresa to write her Life. A Dominican, Ibanez was easily the most articulate and perceptive of Teresa's first commentators. In a statement written between 1562 and 1564, Ibanez explains that those who believed Teresa to be suffering from deception had excellent reasons for believing so.7z He gives five such reasons: 1. Good judgment requires that we judge in light of what normally happens; and normally, people who have claimed to be the recipients of locutions and revelations were deceived, lbanez sees fit to add: "These deceptions come principally to women, and very seldom tO men."r'~ 2. In trying to ascertain the truth in any matter, we must take the judgments of the experts as definitive, e.g,, we must consult theologians in questions of theology and captains in matters of war~ The saints have always taught that very few revelations can be accepted as ,genuine. Some saints have gone so far as to repudiate all private revelations, arguing that their faith is sufficiently strong without them. When so many visions and apparitions occur to one nun, the legitimacy of all or most ot~ them is highly improbable. 3. If Teresa~s visions were gen-uine, then they must be counted as miracles; but miracles are performed "in cases of great necessity,''74 and in order to confirm the Faith. Neither of these grounds for miracles applies to an enclosed nun. 4. Saints who have been granted supernatural favors always strive to conceal them, both out of the belief that God would deprive them of the favors if they made them public, and as a sign of humility. Teresa made her "favors" only too well known: she described them to a great number of confessors and lay per-sons, and wrote about them in all of her works. 5. The devil is the cleverest of all deceivers because he mixes so much truth with his falsehoods. It is most likely that Teresa's experiences were the work of the devil. Although Ibanez concedes that these reasons have great weight, he ~.nonetheless counters that some things considered by themselves seem bad, but "if some circumstances be taken into account, seem quite holy and virtuous.''r5 His example is the familiar one from Plato: taking someone's property is wrong, but if it is added that the thing was taken from its owner in order to prevent him from killing himself or someone else, then it is right. Ibanez's defense of the genuineness of Teresa's visions rests ultimately upon the following premise: We have also to consider that there has never been a time in the world when there have hot,been certain persons with whom our Lord has been on very familiar terms and to whom His Majesty has expounded and revealed many secret things which he has determined to do . In some ages there will be more of these than in others, but there will always be some, and as a rule they will be men given to prayer, contempla-tion and quiet~r6 721bid., 111, pp. 313-333. r~ibid., p. 317. ralbid., p. 316¯ r61bid., p. 318. ralbid. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 359 Invoking God's providential care of his Church, and alluding to the threats of the Lutherans, Ibanez claims a historical necessity for'the exis-tence of certain intermediaries between the world and the supernatural. Moreover, the fact that a person lives "in great Christian perfection" is a very relevant argument in favor of the genuineness of certain revelations. Even though complete ce~'tainty concerning the genuineness of revela-tions is impossible, there are "some ways and means which are very sure.''7~ In general, the tree i~ known by its fruit,just as physicians diagnose a disease by its effects. Given that revelations and visions must be either true and good or false and bad, a true vision must partake of the qualities of God,. and a false vision must show" signs of the wiles and subtleties used by the devil.''7s Ibanez gives eleven rules for distinguishing true from false visions: 1. Visions from God must produce a sense of humility and unworthiness; thosefrom the devil bring pride and a sense of self-importance. 2. Visions from God drive the recipient to shun the world 9,nd turn away from material things; those from the devil have the opposite effect. 3. Visions from God come only to those who are systematically give.n to prayer and who mani-fest a genuine love of God; the devil's chief aim is to entice one away from prayer and to suborn one's love of God. 4. Perso_ns who receive visions. from God invariably seek counsel from learned persons, holding nothing back from their confessors; persons receiving visions from the devil be-come furtive and self-opinionated. 5. Because scholastic theology is not sufficient to pronounce on the genuineness of mystical experiences, some- " one who believes that he is the recipient of such experiences must consult confessors who have personal experience of such things and who lead lives .~of great sanctity. 6. It is all the more likely that a person's visions are from God if he has patiently suffered all sorts of undeserved annoyances and tribulations. "Our Lord is not likely to reward our patience by sending us a delusion from the devil.''r9 7. If all of a person's confessors are convinced of his purity of conscience, then it is all the more likely that the revelations are of divine origin. 8. An empirical test is to ascertain how much help and spiritual profit people obtain from familiar converse with s.~ch a person. 9. The content of divine visions should be in complete conf6rmity with the Scriptures; demonic visions are replete with irrelevances, curiosities and thingsof little edification. 10. If none of a person's confessors detects any trace of vanity, then it is all the more certain that ~the experiences are genuine. Lastly, 11. The devil persecutes and torments the good, and ap-pears to them in a hideous form; but to persons whom the deyil has won over, his appearances are pleasant, and he cajoles and flatters them. Ibanez proceeds to apply each of these rules to Teresa. On the basis of 7rlbid., p. 319. 781bid. rSlbid., p. 324. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 considerable documentary evidence, he proves that her experiences clearly pass each test. IV This is a difficult paper to conclude. One could of course change the entire mode and tenor of Teresa's experiences and delve into her medical history. As inte?esting as it might be to try to diagnose her early cataleptic seizures, her neurasthenia, and all the bodily, aches and ailments that she complained of throughout her life, I do not see how the content of her experiences can be reduced to physical causes. Of course one could attempt a psychoanalytic study of Teresa, examin-ing her very strong attachment to her father, her ambivalent friendships, her great attraction to Ft. Jeronimo, her self-flagellation and so on. But if one begins with the assumption that mystical experience is nothing but psy-chiatric disorder, Teresa's proper place is on the doctor's couch and not in the gloria so remarkably ~imbodied by Bernini. Again, one could fit Teresa's experiences into the long history of mys-ticism, drawing from Plotinus, Proclus, Dionysius the Pseudo-Areopagite, and many others. One could try to show how Teresa unconsciously drew on ancient Jewish, Sufistic or Hindu sources. All this would be fascinating to those who are interested in such things. Lastly, one is free to adopt William James' largely dismissive attitude expressed in The Varieties of Religiotts Experience: . confess that my only feeling in reading [Teresa] has been pity that so much vitality of soul should have found such poor employment.''~° James finds Teresa's reli-gious ideal "paltry. ,,81 But if the ideals expressed in the Interior Castle are paltry; I should lik~ to know which ideals may be called "high." It ig the conclusion of this article, however, that, in order to understand St. Teresa's descriptions of her experiences, one must construe them sym-bolically or analogically. When St. Thomas Aquinas addresses himself to the problem of speaking about God, given that no two beings are as unlike as the Creator and the created, he argues that language about God must be understood analogical-ly. In De Veritate, for example, St. Thomas reasons that there are only ¯ three ways in which one may predicate any term of a given subject: univ-ocally, equivocally, or analogously,sz He argues: "We must assert that we may not predicate anything univocally of the creature and God, for in univocal predication the intelligible nature that the name signifies is com-mon to each thing among those of which that name is predicated univocal-ly . Now,.no creature, regardless of how much it imitates God, can ever reach the point of having anything in common with God . We cannot say, 8°The Modern Library: New York, p. 339. 8~lbid. 8ZDe Ver., q. 2, a. 11. St. Teresa on Demonic Deception and Mystical Experience / 36"1 on the other hand, that whatever is predicated of God and creature is predicated purely equivocally, since, if no real likeness of creature to God existed, his essence would not be the likeness of creatures, and then he would not know creatures through knowing his own essence . "s'~ The conclusion, then, is that predication in reference to God can only be made analogously. In other words, if all language about God were equivocal, absolutely nothing could be said about God. The mystic's talk would necessarily be idle and utterly uninformative. His visions would have no substance or value. Yet mystics, as well as other religious people, feel driven to speak and to write about God. And they believe that their language has meaning. This language has to be interpreted, not literally, but analogously,s4 It is chiefly because readers, whether from their scepticism or their enthusiasm, mistakenly interpret St. Teresa's writings in either a univocal or an equiv-ocal fashion that this great saint's message to humanity is often misunder-stood and falsified. a31bid. a4See also ST, I, q. 13. Now Available As Reprint An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Principles of Asceticism Richard J. Hauser, S.J, Father Hauser is an associate professor in the department of theology at Creighton University, and is currently its chairman. He resides in the Jesuit Community of Creighton; 2500 Cali-fornia St.; Omaha, NE 68178. There is probably no area in spirituality more difficult to discuss than asceticism. For many of us the term relates primarily to Lenten practices of mortification. Most of us were relieved when the legislation was altered, and we abandoned fast and abstinence with little sense of loss. I believe there are two major reasons why we did not miss these practices. Increas-ingly the practice of mortification was not functional in our spiritual lives. Spiritual concerns were moving beyond the traditional spheres of prayer and asceticism and focusing more directly on service to others in the world. The relationship between mortification and service was not clear. Secondly, we were becoming uncomfortable with the assumptions un-derlying these practices regarding the body. The body was frequently seen only as a source of sin and so primarily a barrier to spiritual growth. It had to be repressed to be kept submissive. This assumption was incompatible with a general cultural awareness of the importance of the whole person, including the body and its feelings, for leading a happy life. These practices were also incompatible with the growing emphasis in Christian circles on the dignity of the total perso~n flowing from the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. This article attempts to spell out some general guidelines for a meaning-ful asceticism today, and then to present some practical principles of ascet-icism. In doing this it hopes to respond to the church's admonition .to all Christians to find a personally meaningful rhythm of asceticism to replace the strict system that had previously been legislated for all. 362 Principles of Asceticism / 363 Functional: Asceticism The first demand of a valid contemporary asceticism is that it be func-tional, that it foster the goals of Christian living. We are called to b~ like Christ. The Gospels present Jesus as totally dedicated to doing the Father's will in union with the Spirit. Imitating Christ, we, too, are called to do always the Father's will, and to do this with the power we have received from the Spirit of Jesus. We know from the theology of grace that :the Holy Spirit is our sanctifier and that we can make no movement toward God unless we are drawn to him by the Spirit. So if asceticism is to be functional it must promote living in tune with the Spirit. We will understand asceticism, then, as our efforts, prompted by the Spirit, to live and act always in union with the Spirit of Christ in order to know and do our Father's will. The practical challenge of a contemporary asceticism will be to establish regular rhythms in daily life that enable us to live in union with the Spirit. The general goal of all asceticism is to provide the conditions in daily life th~.t facilitate living in tune with the Spirit. But this goal must be brought down t0~ the level of the individual. Each Christian must ask the question: What is God's will for me? .How is God calling me to serve his people and his kingdom? This question is central, for no two of us have exactly the sam6 vocation from our Father. And the question must be asked on two levels. First, what is the state in life and particular occupation God is calling me to? And second, how is he leading me on a day-to-day basis to fulfill my particular calling? For example, in my own person, ! believe the Lord has called me to serve him as a Jesuit priest, and, within this state of life, to teach college theology. In addition I believe the Lord is leading me each day to mak~e decisions within this vocation that will be for his greater glory and service. To know and to respond continually and energetically to the Lord's calling demands that I live in touch with his Spirit. My personal ascetical challenge is to put patterns into my life that enable me to do this in a daily schedule that is already crowded with classes, counseling, meetings, study and research. My challenge will obviously be quite different from that of a housewife or a businessman. But the goal for all of us is the same: to know and to do our Father's will. And it is reached in the same way: by living in tune with the Spirit of Jesus. ~ We have been stressing the fact that ascetical°practices must be func-tional, related to doing the Father's will. But it is crucial to emphasize that asceticism is not concerned simply with developing life patterns aimed at the conscientious external performance of our various callings. The real challenge of asceticism is to develop life-rhythms that :facilitate an internal quality of heart that reflects the presence of the Holy Spirit during the performance of our duties. Paul gives us very concrete signs by which we .can recognize this presence: ". love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control" (Ga 5,22). Meeting :364 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 this challenge is the most difficult aspect of asceticism. Most of us find it much easier simply to get our jobs done and not worry about our internal quality of heart--we all know the empty feeling of getting through a day and doing everything we were supposed to, but realizing at the end of the day that there was very little Iove,-joy,. or peace. Though we have ostensibly done God's will, we have not served the Lord well because we have not lived in tune with his Spirit. The difficulty of this challenge ought not be underestimated. There exist immense obstacles to its attainment both within and outside ourselves, and it is hard to say which are the more foreboding. We are aware of our own internal dividedness, our habitual tendency to serve ourselves only, rather than the Lord and others. And just as Paul gives us a list of the qualities of heart indicating the Spirit's presence; he also gives a list indicating the Spirit's absence: ". feuds and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels; disagreements, factions, envy." (Ga 5, 20).And we also know .how regularly this internal dividedness is reinforced by our external situa-tion. We are continually moved away from a peaceful and loving service by the pressures of a busy schedule and anxieties from our work and personal problems. So from the very beginning the Christian who is concerned with totally loving and serving the Lord must acknowledge that the" task is impossible by personal effort alone. It is possible only by the Spirit's presence and power. Let me put it like this: if you are guided by the Spirit you will be in no danger of yielding to self-indulgence, since self-indulgence is the opposite of the Spirit, the Spirit is totally against such a thing, and it is precisely because the two are so opposed that you do not always carry out your good intentions. (Ga 5,16-17). And there is peace in the realization that his grace will always be sufficient. We need only build rhythms into our life that enable us to live in contact with it. Respect for the Total Person I believe that a major reason traditional approaches to asceticism lost their hold on us was that they were not clearly related to living the Christian life. Ifasceticism is to regain its deserved place in Christian living, it must be functional: it must clearly facilitate greater love and service of the Lord and others. But I believe that there is a second major reason, why the traditional approach to asceticism lost its hold. I believe that the Christian community became increasingly uncomfortable with one of its major-- though not always articulated--assumptions, namely that the body is pri-marily a barrier to spiritual growth and needs to be repressed to be kept submissive. It was indicative of our attitude toward the body that we felt comfortable in attributing to it rather than to the whole person so much evil in the self. We are clearly not. denying the internal dividedness of the self, the tension between the Spirit in us and our lower human nature---ourself Principles of Asceticism / 365 outside the Spirit. Any approach to asceticism that underplays this fact of Revelation is obviously distorted. But we are insisting that the body, too, is good because it is part of the person that has been transformed by the grace of Christ. The conclusion for asceticism is that the body is not only a barrier to the Spirit needing to be repressed, but it is equally an aid to the Spirit and must be respected and treated as such. This view of the person is reinforced by current theological works on the nature of the self. Theologians today continually speak of the threefold dimension of the person: body, mind, and spirit. They stress that all our acts are combinations of the three dimensions; they are simultaneously phys-ical, psychological and spiritual. One dimension inevitably influences the other two. The conclusion for spirituality is that the way we use our bodies and minds will either help or harm our life in the Spirit. And so we must respect all'principles of good physical and psychological health. I believe these insights have crucial import for asceticism today, import not ade-quately acknowledged in our previous approaches to asceticism. The chal-lenge of a contemporary asceticism will be to develop rhythms for the use of the body and the mind that respect their positive and vital role in the service of the whole person. Perhaps a note should be added on the importance of the psychological dimension for spiritual growth. It goes without saying that if body, mind and spirit are interconnected, psychological health and maturity are crucial for spiritual growth. The challenge of ascetical practices in this area is to develoP rhythms in daily living that respect valid psychological principles of growth. It is clear how intimately related are psychological and spiritual growth. For instance, a generally accepted touchstone for psychological maturity is the ability to be in touch with our inner selves and to make decisions flowing from our own insights without being unduly influenced by outside pressures. This principle of psychological health is central for the Christian. Our goal is to know and do the Father's will. To do this we must be guided by the Spirit. And' t6 be guided by the Spirit we must be in touch with our inner selves, for it is on this very deep level that God can influence and direct us. This means we must develop daily rhythms that enable us to live in tune with our inner selves. Fr~)m the perspective of mental health and maturity psychologists can only concur. The Christian seeks always to know and do the Father's will in love. We cannot do this by ourselves; we can do this only with the Spirit. We seek then to develop rhythms in our daily life forthe use of our bodies and minds that keep them under the influence of the Spirit: "Since the Spirit is our life, let us be directed by the Spirit" (Ga 5, 25). Thomas Merton's expression is perfect. The "spiritual life'" is then the perfectly balanced life in which the body with its passions and instincts, the mind with its reasoning and its obedience to principle, and the spirit with its passive illuminationoby the Light and Love of God form one ~i66 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/3 complete man who is in God and with God and from God and for God. One man in whom God is all in all. One man in whom God carries out his own will without obstacle. New Seeds of Conternplation (New York: New Directions, 1961), p. 140. ~ractical Principles: the Body What are these rhythms that foster our being directed by the Spirit? The most obvious place to begin is with the body--body is theterm we are using for ~he physical dimension of our existence. The basic question in this area is: What rhythms are necessary in daily living to keep the body responsive to the direction of the Spirit in energetically doing the will of the Father? There are two major principles: first, we must do whatever is necessary and possible to keep in good physical health, and second, we must do whatever is necessary to keep our sensual desires responsive to the Spirit and not to our lower human nature, that is, the part of our being that has not yet been transformed by the Spirit of Christ. The first we will ~:all the positive principle for the use of the body; the second, the negative principle. For me the first is

Issue 36.2 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Lores Umvers~ty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Budding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW r:oR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELI6IOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Mlarch 1977 Volume 36 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REvxEw Fort R~L~to~s; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REvmw Foa R~L~mvs; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. We Journey Through Tears Ann .Marie ' Krupski, C.S.J. ," Sister Ann Marie resides at 152 Third Street; Troy, NY 12180. I would not exchar~ge th, e,, laughter of my heart for'the fortunes of the'' mult=tudes; nor would I be Content with convert=ng my tears, invited by my agonized self, into calm. It is my fervent hope that my whole life on this earth will ever be tears and laughter, Tears that purify my heart and reveal to me /he secret of life and 'its mystery. . ' . . . Teals with which I join the.broken~hearted.1 Unlike Kahil Gibran, we feel more comfortable when we convert our tears tb'~"laugh~er, "dompanionship, or any available distraction. As the psalmist reflects:"Who'of us wants a pillow drenche~l with tears, eyes wasted by grief, or sustenance by the bread of tears? But really, we are not comfort-bound people; tears ar~'-an essential ingredientoin our lives and when we hesitate to convert the.m, we find that they .convert us' by purification, revelation, and consolation. ~ ~'~ Tears That Purify o To~let tears purify us, w.~"must go to andpass through Gethsemane; the thought of such sojburhing repels us. For in Gethsemane there is no periphery; outer edges are only for those who run away or fall asleep. Those who st, ruggl.e to stay mdst encounter the razor edge of unrecognized and unacknowledged realities, and to particiPate .in. these realities we must go alone. Carlo Carretto reflects: "Because not even Jesus can tal~e our place in the leap of Faith; it is up to us. It is like dying. It is up to us, and no 1Kahil Gibran: Tears and Laughter, Bantam Books, Inc., New York, 1974, p. 1. 1 69 170 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 one is able to take our place.'"-' At this time, the loneliness of pain and the pain of loneliness are so intense that our finite rootedness is shaken by fear, great distress, and sorrow to the point of death (Mk 14:34). With tremen-dous hesitation, we stumble into the crucible of inner anguish. Here, the fire of severe distress touches every fiber of our being, invades each corner pre-viously hidden from our own insights, and temporarily immobilizes us; al-though immobilization does not cripple or paralyze us. Like St. Paul, "We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed" (2 Co 4:8). Intense inner anguish teaches us to walk with suffering, and suffering stretches us beyond the narrowness of our own horizons. However, one of the haunting and terrifying qualities about Gethsemane is that even if we choose not to go there, it will .come to us. When the flood of pain drenches our soul, Gethsemane penetrate~ us, and suffering becomes unavoidable. In the agonizing abyss, we learn how to die, and how to live our dying. And the surprise of dying catches us off guard. For while we expect to walk to our death daily, we do not often foresee walking with our death. In fact, at first we may not recognize that this death-in-life is life-giv-ing as was Gethsemane, with its seemingly negative features: --Being devoid of the human support of friends: "He came back and found them sleeping . Had you not the strength to keep awake one hour?" (Mk 14:37). "My friends and my companions shrink from my wounds, even the dear-est of them keep their distance." (Ps 38:11 ). --Being stripped of the expectation that the God of the impossible will remove the struggle: "Everything is possible for you. Take this cup away from me" (Mk 14:36). "My God, my God, why have you deserted me?" (Ps 22:1). --Being vested with the willingness to do what we really prefer not doing: "Let it be as you, not I, would have it" (Mk 14:36). "My food is to do the will of the one who sent me" (Jn 4:34). --We go "right into the dark cloud where God is" (Ex 20:21~ and 24:18). As soon as we enter the cloud, the cloud enters us, and we go the way of apparent absurdity. In the mist, we ponder: is darkness really light; aban-donment ieally presence; diminishment, growth? It is so difficult to realize that God is here; our anguish is too great, the cloud too thick. So. often we feel: "bowed down, bent double, overcome . . . numbed and crushed . . no relief from , . . pains" (Ps 38:5-17). With the poet of Lamentations we cry out: He has forced me to dwell in darkness . He has walled me in; I c~nnot escape; he has made my chains heavy; . . . My eyes dissolve in torrents of tears. My eyes weep ceaselessly, without relief (Lm 3:6-8 and 48-50). "The God Who Comes, Orbis Books, New York, 1976, p. 40. We 1ourney Through Tears / 171 " Our spirits.,sink and our hearts groan as we brood on our anguish. We go about in mourning all day long, sometimes even moaning aloud. Reluc-tantly we try to pierce the darkness which has penetrated us; yes, :reluctantly because often we are afraid to be pierced by the light. It becomes easier to cry, more consoling to be blinded .by tears than blinded by the cloud's thick-ness. And desolation's touch has no light grasp in this agony. It is as though "there is no one to comfort me" (Lm 1:21). Any of our attempts to look for comfort become futile when the embrace of annihilation is so relentless. Gradually, the surface-rooted tree within us topples and the.broken fragility which ,remains is divested of any strength, we could have once called our own. We shiver in the exposure of our weakness and murmur the only yes that comes, the only yes that is genuine, the yes we have cried in the tears that purify. With Jesus crucified we. cry out, in a voice not loud but humbled (Lk 23:46), "into your hands I commit my spirit" (Ps 31:5). It is-this meager but genuine "yes" which is, for us, the beginning of the fulfillment of Malachi's prophecy: '"Yahweh will purify the sons [and daughters] of Levi so that they' will make an offering to Yahweh as it should be made" (Mal 3:3). So that our offering can be made as it should, we are led along the path of,constant conversion and unlimited surrender. Along this path, we begin to cry the tears that reveal the secret of life and its mystery. Tears That Reveal To let tears purify us, we went to Gethsemane.To let tears reveal mys-tery, we will go to the mount of Transfiguration. It is, here that we learn the beauty of.light and the significance of shadow, the breadth of revelation and the depth of.mystery. When we read the account of the Transfiguration, we respond favorably to the light and dazzlingly white parts. Although like Peter, we may feel somewhat awkward or ,even frightened by such intensity; we, too, want to echo his words: "It is wonderful for us to be here; so let us make three tents, one for you, one for'Moses, and one for Elijah" (Mk 9:5). How we long to stay 'with Jesus, "light of the world., and light of life" (Jn 8: 12). Immersed in radiance, we often skim over the next part of Mark's nar-rative: "And a cloud came covering them in shadow . . ." (Mk 9:7). This shadow, so significant in the whole event, helps us realize that transfiguration does not just occur in luminous light. For at .the exact moment of revela-tion Peter, James, and John are covered in shadow. And it is precisely at this moment that a voice comes from the cloud to proclaim: "This is my son" (Mk 9:8). From the cloud,'.the voice announces the revelation. In the shadow, the apostles receive it. Cloud and shadow are so vital in revelation. As~we weep the tears that reveal, we might reflect on two moments in our lives that integrate light and, shadow, revelation and mystery: the mo-ments of transcendence and of trust. (Later, each of us will be able to con- 172 / Review [or Religious; l/olume 36, 1,977/2 sider many aspects other than those mentioned here:~) However, it must be clear that~no one can share an experience: of.the transcendent~ Only, the Holy Spirit c.an do that. Sacred Scripture helps us in this'realization. .Through the prophet Ezekiel, God .tells us: "I shall put my spirit in,you" (Ezk 36:27). Jesus has revealed that ~the Holy Spirit will teach us every, thing (Jn 14:26). And St. ~Paul reflects: ~ . ¯ .'. the Spirit~ reaches the depthS of' everything, even the depths of God.'Afte( all the depths ~0fa person can only be known'by onE's Spiri't~ not by any other ¯ person, and in the same way the' depths oLGod can only~ be~known by the Spirit of God . we have received the ;Spirit that comes from God, to teach~ usto understand the gifts that he has given us (1 Co 2:10.12)¯ .~ So, filled with the Spirit, consider a moment of transcendence, This could be h peak experience in prayer, nature, music, art~ or literature. It' is ~that time when, ra'vished by beaoty and saturated ~by the ineffable, a depth of awe'brings us to ~h~°~"~bsolute Beyond" present within~us. Caressed by the Inexhaustible, 'we too ~soOn become exhausted by the_qnexpressible; penetration of the Real i~ to~ painful and touch of the Intangible too'unreal. Like Peter, we want to make a tent~make the moment last. Yet, we hesi-tate to remain in this light. For while on eai'th, we human folk do explode when filled with infinity. Once touched by trafiscendency; however, we are almost immediately covered in shadow; our peak experiences will not be timebound. Nothing can or ever will completely capture that in which we pa'rticil~ate. :A photo-graph, won't do it nor will a symphony or a poem. Mo0nbeams will always be for dancing not holding, and the Rockies, will stand majestically right where they are. Reality and ~ur expressions of it cannot co-exist with' the same degree of impact. In our finest moments of creation .(tent making) we experience endless~limitations. Our concretizations.become forever'unsatis-fying. And when we get caught in the trap of thinking that ,any of our achievements determine our worth, then indeed, does the sand of a hollow victory slip through our fingers. As, we.seek what cannot be realized, no con-tainer confine~ the tears, no expression captures the actuality and no,dis-traction disturbs the stillness.of silence~ We wlio experience such, limits long for the 'Unlimited and tears become the release-rdief. ~ ~ '~ :~' Although God "has given us the wisdom to understand' fully the mys~ tery" (Ep I ~9), :it'is only in the moment of trust,that,~we realize underst'and~ ing not solely based on the rational. This wisdom turns us inside out ~and upside down and again we weep because we so need to weep. Even the ligl~t and dazzlingly white parts of transfiguration are blurred. We :live in shadow. Yet, this moment is precious because God is so present, ~ven though veil6'd by cloud: It is in this intimate event that we experience the "existential mo-ment of redemption.'; '~For thus says the Lord Yahweh.~. your salvation lay in conversion and tranquility, your strength, in complete tru'st" ;(Is 30: 15). At first, however, we hesitate to trust the very God who made us;',who We ~lourney Through Tears / 173 Iove~ us with an everlasting love and in whose eyes we are precious. Our pride I~etrays us and we remain too rational to participat.e in ways not our own. Blinded by our desire to have our cak~ and edt it to'Q, we really pre-fer the best of both worlds. Oh yes, we'll, pray but we'll also croffd the soli-tude. We are living examples of being "distracted from distraction by-dis-traction.''' a And why not? After all, we are human. How easily we become ~rey to and proficient in processes of rationalization. Go~l, however, does not rush us. but, per~sistently draws us to himself. Best of all lovers, he is most respectful. It is as though h~ patiently asks: "Will you have me? Will you really have m6?" He gives us Jesus to be our way and to show himself to us (.In 14:6-9). Yet this revelation is always his gift, "because it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith; not by anything of your own. but by'a"gift from God: not by anything,you have d0ne,~so that nobody can claim the credit" (Ep 2:8-9). My virtues do not win this, grace nor do my vices detract from it. Furthermore, it may come witho.ut invitation and planning but never with-o. ut preparation. The gift-giver himself prepares me to receive such'fullness, arid the preparation takes place in the moment of trust. It is then that I am emptied of stubbornness and stripped of~ the tendency to cling to any vanity. In speaking of love, Kahil Gibran poetically exl~resses the depth ahd ex-tent of love's preparation. , When love ~beckons to yQu, follow him, though his ways are hard and ste.ep. And when his wings enfold you yiel.d to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he sp~eaks to" you believe in him. though his voice may shatter your dreams . For even as love crowns yot{ so shall he ~:rucify you. Even as he ascends to your heights and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun~ so shall be'descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.4 In this shaking, I cry all the more; for so many realizations come: 1 must walk a way of unlimited surrender arid constant conversion until the day I leave this earth. I must die while I am alive if I really want to live. And I must lose all if I r~al.ly0~want to participate in the All. As I journey to God I cannot set limits on any sacrifice. I' cannot even expect to avoid suffering, defeat, limitations, failings or misunderstandings. Teilhard de Chardin expresses the diminish.ment I, experience in the rmoment of, trust when he discusses "appa~rent fai~lure and ,its transfiguration." ~ The lives of the saints and generally speaking, the lives of all those who have, been outstanding for intelligenc.e or. goodness, are full of these instapces in~ which one can see the person emerging ennobled, tempered, and renewed from some ordeal, or even some downfall, which seemed bound to diminish or lay the i~erson low forever. Failure . . canalises the sap of bt, r inward life, aT. S. Eli0t5 "Burnt Norton," Four Qigartets. Harcourt, Brace and World, Inc., New York, 1971, p. 17. ~ " 4The Prophet, Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., New York, 1971, p. 13. 17'4 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 disengages the purest "components" of our being in such a way as to make us shoot up higher and straighter . . . In the presence of St. Augustine or St. Mary Magdalen . :. no one hesitates to think . . . felix culpa . . . As a result of His omnipoience impinging upon our faith, events which show themselves ¯ . . as pure loss will become an immediate factor in the union we dream of establishing With Him.:, And with Chardin I become ready to cry out: "O God, grant that I may understand that it is You (provided my faith is strong enough) who are painfully parting the fibres of my being in order to penetrate to the very marrow of my substance and bear me away within Yourself.'''~ During the emptying and parting of fibers, I pray, and in this prayer Jesus so softly, deeply, intimately, gently, repeatedly says to me: Trust Me. I Love You So Very Much; 1 Died For You. You Are Very Precious To Me. I Am With You, And I Know What I Am Doing With And Through You. Trust Me," Even When You Don't Understand. Always Trust Me. After the light and shadow, th6 revelation and mystery of transfigura-tion, when the apostles "suddenly looked round, they saw no one with them anymore but only Jesus" (Mk 9:8). So it is with us; at the end of trans-figuration we see no one but Jesus. In his light we see and don't see; in the shadow we don't see and can't see. And we cry even more because we'd rather play "finders-keepers"; transfiguration, however, teaches us the role of "finders-seekers." Perhaps our stance does not really matter after all. For Jesus, only Jesus, is in both the beauty of light and the cover of shadow. Realizing this, we, too, can hymn to God's love: Nothing therefore can come between us and the love of Christ, even if we are troubled or worried, or being persecuted, or lacking food or clothes, or being threatened or even attacked. : . These are the trials through which we tri-umph, by the power of him who loved us. For I am certain of this: neither death nor life . . . nothing that exists, nothing still to come, not any power . . . nor any created thing, can ever come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rm 8:35-39). In speaking of his discontent with converting tears, Kahil Gibran hoped to cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted." We shall conclude these reflections by considering these tears. Tears With Which I Join the Broken-Hearted Before I can sincerely, sensitively, and caringly cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted," I must experience the. comfort of consola-tion from God. And before I can experience his comfort, I will have en-dured suffering. Having reflected on some forms of sfiffering in the discus-sion of pfirification and revelation, we might now consider our experience of God as consoler through St. Paul's own experience of this consolation. ~The Divine Milieu, Harper and Brothers, New York, 1960, pp. 59-60. ~Tt, e Divine Milieu, p~ 62. We Journey Through Tears / 175 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, a gentle Father and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows, so that we can offer others, in their sorrow, the consolation that we have received from ~God ourselves. Indeed, as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so through Christ, does our consolation over'flow (2 Co 1:3-6). Paul pours out so much to us in this short passage. Prayerfully to travel through parts of it is to immerse ourselves in the immeasurably rich reality of the whole. God is a gentle Father and the God o] all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows. ( 2 Co 1 : 3 ). How does one speak of the comfort of God's consolation? Who dares to speak of it? Each of us has perhaps known this rest for our souls. In considering this experience, my words come simply. When I am over-burdened, I go to Him, though not at first, of course, because I am so proud and independent. Finally, however, compelled by an intense, insatiable need, I do go to him (he always invites me [Mt 11:28-30]) and he em-braces me so tenderly and holds me so gently that I wonder why I did not go to him at first. Even when I have resisted going and even when he has waited long for my coming (Is 30: 18), still he greets me as though he had always been my first choice. ~He makes no demands and asks no apologies. Instead, he lavishes me with love and gifts me with his peace, comfort never to be given by anyone or thing in this world (Jn 14:27). And only his peace can dry my tears, heal my wounds, and comfort me to the full. I will heal them and lead them; 1 will give full comfort to them and to those who mourn for them, I the Creator. who gave them life. Peace, peace to the far and the near. says the Lord; and I will heal them (Is 57: 18-19). At. first, the reality of complete relief astonishes me but the Lord fills me so compassionately that I am not overwhelmed. In fact, he enables me to enjoy: ,, A glimpse o[ glory--,I have given them the glory you gave to me" (Jn 17: 22). The glory of grace--"Indeed, from his fullness we have, all of us, received-- yes, grace upon grace" (Jn l : 16). The grace of abiding Love-~"And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time" (Mt 28:20). But comfort from the Lord himself, is gift given to be given again, so that we can offer others, in their sorrow, the consolation we have received from God ourselves (2 Co 1 :~). Before reflecting on offering God's consolation to others, however, I must consider my weakness and God's power. When I experience purifica-tion, revelation, and consolation I become increasingly aware of my many weaknesses. At first, this knowledge overwhelms me but the love of Christ overwhelms me more (2 Co 5." 14). Entangled in the web of human limita-tions, I sometimes approach the broken-hearted ready to extend myself. All too soon I cry my own t~ars, not theirs. Readily I become weighed 176 / ~Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 down by their burdens. And unable to sustain such weight I, too, become broken.~To offer human comfort'alone, is to drain a well dry. Dissatisfac-tion with my present limits enables me to realize that on!y the Lord can "give strength to our bones so that we can be like a wat~r.ed garden, like a spring of water whose waters never run dry" (Is 58:11). Only Jesus can prbrhise that: "the water. I shall give will' turn into a spring inside them, welling Up to ~ternai life" (Jn 4: 14). Those whb drink the milk of human comfort°will thirst'again but those who drink "the water that~I shall give will never be thirsty again" (Jfi 4: 14). A~ I b'ecome increasingly aware of my weaknesses I als'o becomeincreas-ingly convinced of the l~owe~ of God. It is St: Paol who helps me in this recognition: "Yes, we were carrying our 'own death warrant with us, and it has taught us n'ot to rely on ours'elves but only on God" (2 Co 1:9). Just as the Lord prevented Paul from'"getting too proud," he encourages me in a Similar manfier: "My grace is enough fo~ you: my ~power is at its best in w6akness" (2 Co ~12:7-9). However, I cannot tangibly ~measure the power of God nor the degree to which I am offering'another the consolation that I have receiqed from God. This is a matter of' faith. In all likelihood, it is not even necessary knowl6dge for me. Besides, "the coming of thi~ king-dom ~f God does not admit of Observation" (Lk 17.:20). Despite my' weakness, the Lord assureff me that I ~:an still be a vehicle for his consolation. At times, I wonder if he almost delights in my weak-ness~ For Paul recalls: "It was to.shame the wise that God chose what is foolish by human reckoning, and to shame whatqs strong that he chose what is weak by human reckoning" (1 Co 1:27-28). This is how ou~" God is. This is how he loves us. He gives to us always all ways. And he is no respecter of strength. "Yahweh is interested . . . in those who rely on his love" (Ps 147:10-11). He is "near to the broken-hearted" (Ps 34:q8). He even permits 'me to witness his love to the broken-hearted. "We, with our unveiled faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness,, of the Lord, all grow brighter and " brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect" (2 Co 3" 18). But St. Paul also reminds us that "We are only the earthen-ware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelm-ing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). To realize the source of bur strength is a special gift so that we might "never. be ashamed of witnessing to the Lord . . . relying on the power of God" (2 Tm 1:8). Having recognized weakness it is possible ~to say with St. Paul: "I have not lost confidence, because I know who it is that I have put,my tru.st in, and I have no doubt at all that he is able to take care of all that I have entrusted to him" (2 Tm 1:12), Now I am able to cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted." And it is through Christ that consolation will Over[tow (2 Co, 1:6). ,We Journey Through Tears / 1177 Conclusion All life pulses with rhythm and the rhythm Of life pulses within me. Just as seasons of the year repeat, so do seasons of the spirit. Therefore, the Gethsemane experience will be repeated in my life. However, upon its return, neither I nor Gethsemane will be the same. A return or returns are each different from the other and each different from any other's. My body may be ravaged by physical pain, my mind tortured by mental anguish, or my faith shaken by spiritual darkness. But God will be with me throughout it all: leading me, teaching me, and advising me. At last, I will enjoy transfiguration not for a moment bat for an eternity: not only Jesus, but Father, Holy Spirit, and the whole c~ourt of Heaven--[orever. My journey will be finished, "the Lord Yahwehlwill wipe away the tears" (Is 25:8), and "there will be no more death, and no more mourning or sadness" (Rv 21:4) ]orever. ,Now Available As A Reprint Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Se~ks.Him Price:,. $.3b pei: c0py~. plUs~.postage._ Address:~ ~ ~Review for Religious 612 iHumboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 The God of Brokenness Jean Annette Gustafson, C.S.J. Sister Jean Annette last published in these pages in the September, 1976 issue, pp. 77'1-776. She now works full-time as writer, composer, liturgist and artist. She presently resides at 211 Third Ave.; Venice, CA 90291. Often I find myself reacting to the one-dimensional God of our theologies: the God who is always good, kind, loving, patient, supportive, and affirm-ing. If God is omnipotent and omnipresent, then I cannot reconcile this type of God with the majority of my experiences. Too much of life is harsh, violent, non-supportive and tragic. The human condition is characterized by infinite examples of suffering and brokenness: sickness, death, divorce, shattered relationships, crushed hopes, lost loves. For me to believe only in the God described above is to place him somewhere outside the human con-dition; it is to say he is not presentin some of the most significant moments ,of my life. The only God I can know is the God who reveals himselfwthe God whom I perceive in and through my experience. This is not to say that the God I perceive is really God, for the human mind will never in this life totally comprehend or understand who God is. God is indeed a mystery, a paradox. He does transcend the human co~aditibn and yet is somehow intimately involved with us on a day-to-day basis; he is "unmoved" by hu-man suffering and yet profoundly loves us and cares about our pain; he is active in the world and yet often remains silently passive. What I venture to put forth here is certainly not an attempt on my part to define God. It is, however, an attempt to break, down his usual stereotypes and once more to acknowledge his mystery. I have come to a point in my life where I am acutely aware that our words and theologies of God will always fall short of his reality. Our words--good, kind, loving,,and so forth--are not really God, but symbols 178 The God o] Brokenness / 179 which describe our experience of him. When I say that a patient, supportive, affirming God does not always "work" for me, I am merely saying that these words are incomplete, these symbols do not always describe my ex-perience. In times of great suffering and stress, I perceive a different God who no longer fits into the nice, neat categories into which I usually squeeze him. This article is not intended to imprison God in a new "box," but to present, in words I realize can only be symbolic, another one of his many faces--that of the God of brokenness. This God I have experienced ~ is similar to the Hindu Brahma, who creates, and Shiva, who destroys. My God is both loving and dangerous, gentle and violent. He builds me up and he tears me down. He gives me life and he makes me die. He consoles and yet leads me to the pit of desolation. He is the God of Jacob, who wrestles with me and then leaves me maimed. Like the God of Isaiah, "he is a sanctuary and a stumbling stone" (Is 8: 14). He wounds and bruises (Is 30:26); he immerses me in chaos and leaves me bewildered (Is 34:32); he smashes my defenses (Is 24: 13); he reduces me to nothingness and ruin o(Is 24: 14). I do not believe God actually works to destroy me or that I am but a helpless creature victimized by him. But when I am in the throes of a terrible experience, I certainly am aware of my helplessness before his tremendous power. When I feel like he is breaking me apart, I do not consider him to be good nor do I regard him as gentle. His arrows pierce deep (Ps 38:2); his hands .lie on me heavy and hostile (Jb 30:20). Like a lion, he hunts me down (Jb 10: 16), dashes me to pieces (Jb 16: 12), ani:l wrenches me from all former relationships. He causes dissension within and .around me, and often breaks my heart (see Lk 12:49,-52). With wild ruthlessness, he knocks down what he has built and uproots what he has planted (Jr 45:4). "I am going to break [you] just as one breaks a potter's pot" (Jr 19:10-11 ) ; "Irretrievably shattered, smashed., so that of the fragments not one will remain big enough for any use" (Is 30: 14). This "destructive" side of God is something I find in Jesus. As Simeon predicts, Jesus is the child who "is destined for the fall and for the rising of'many" (Lk 2:34). Jesus is not always the "nice guy"; sometimes he is violent, ,angry, and passionately judgmental~ Blatantly he condemns the Scribes and Pharisees; voci.ferously he expels the money changers from the Temple and overturns their tables; defiantly, he l~reaks all sorts of laws and customs of his culture. He lashes out at Peter, ."Get behind me, Satan!" and curses the fruitless fig tree. He deals almost harshly~with both the Canaanite woman and the woman with the hemorrhage. Jesus is the God-man who comes not to bring peace, but the sword. "I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law" (Mt 10:34-6). At the same time, however, Jesus is also someone who is broken by God. Jesus knows only too well what it is to experience hurt and disil- Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 lusionment, the temporariness and fickleness of loves lost. ','You have turned my' friends against me and made' me repulsive to theme' (Ps 88~8)'. "Even my closest and most .trusted friend who shared my table rebels against me" (Ps 41:9; see Jn 13:21 ). Jesus is not always the strong man of Galilee, calling the cards and ~dealing out miracles. He ~is 'a betrayed man,. an aban-doned son, a person whom. his family considers mad and whom his con-temporaries scorn, His agony in the garden is real agony --- close to a com-plete psychological and spiritual breakdown. ',I ~am a worm and no 'man . O :God;:why have you forsaken me?" (Ps 22; Mt 27:46). To perceive that God can"and perhaps does on occasion do violence to us leads me to ask the inevitable: why? Perhaps God is angry and is punishing us.~As the prophet Jeremiah says, ~his is anger that will°burn forever. "We are burnt up by your anger and terrified by your fury" (Ps 90:7). "I will enslave you to your enemies in a country which you do not know, for my anger has kindled a fire that will burn you' up" (Jr 15: 14).0"Yes, a fire has blazed from my anger; it will burn to the depths of Sheol" (Dt 32:22). Perhaps God is jealous (Zc 8:2). "You shall have no gods except me . . . for I am a jealous God, and I punish" (Dt 5:7-9). Or perhaps God.is a stern father, a law-giver, who disciplines and purifies us. "Yahweh your.God is training you as a man .trains his child" (Dt 8:5). "Yahweh reproves the. person he loves, as a father checks a well-loved son" (Pr 3:ll:-12).'Like Jeremiah's potter (or like Pygmalion with Galatea), perhaps God 'tears us down only t6 rebuild and reshape us into 'something better (see Jr 18:4). We are leaky cisterns' which, he must break and then refashion (Jr 2: 13). These answersall seem to play a prominent part in the underlying philosophy of numerous scriptural storie~. God sends a massive flood to destroy the wicked while he rescues Noah'.s family. God destroys Sodom and Gomorrah but sa~es Lot and his relatives. God mak6s the Israelites wander in the desert for forty years until a new generation can be born. God/Hosea punishes his unfaithful wife/Israel but later restores, her to his house. God/Jesus tears down the Temple and in three days rebuilds it. Somehow, howeyer, none of these answers quite satisfy' me. It's not that they are false explanations; it's simply that they define the experience of suffering as something reasonable, as a "means" to something better, instead of as.an experience valuable in and of itself. ~ ~When I suffer with a goal or endpoint in mind, I may live so much in the future that.I remove myself from the present. I somehow anesthetize my pain. -"O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" In essence, I do not suffer. I deny my reality. When. I suffer "for some-thing," I may reduce faith to a false Pollyanna-ism. ,~'What we suffer in .this life can never be compared tb the glory which is waiting for us'? (RmS: 18). In real suffering~ I do not know how things will turn out; in real life, I never,,can predict the~ future. Suffering does not~ guarantee, anything. Further- The God, o! Brokenness more, this mentality of suffering ,~'for something" may giveobrokenness a redeeming'~quality, .but it sets up a false dichotomy. The sentiment that "Today, I am miserable; tomorrow I will be in God's company" puts God somewhere ,Outside the actual experience of being broken. ,.,,Thus, for me, the .symbol,~"God, of brokenness," encompasses ,still another aspect of the Hindu Godhead: Atman, the God within. I see this God's face"in all ~places and .in all people: the spaced-out, hard-looking Clients of a San Francisco V.D clinic, the urine-splattered body of a friend's alcoholic father, a crazy war veteran who lives with his cat on the Marina del Rey ,.jetty, thee frightened old people who spend their last years waiting for death, the neighborhood 'derelicts who rummage through garbage cans seaching, for food, the ~almost hopeless Vietnamese refugees who are not 9nly alienated from their homes but who are overwhelmed by grief, guilt, and depression. This God .is the God of emptiness and senselessness, of divorce and tragedy. He is a strange God--silent, still, vague . . . a God who redeems ,brokenness, not-by changing it, but by being there himself broken and hurting.- This God is a sad God: one who experiences.misunderstanding and poverty. He is a hungry 13od; the God of the streets, the God 0f .the Third World.~ He is. there in failure, exhaustion, rejection. He is a wounded God, who gets threadbare when we do, frustrated when we are, and wearied when we can no longer keep going. Like Jesus, he weeps over a situation he cannot change (Lk 19:41). "How,~often I have longed to gather you together, as a mother hen gathers her brood under her wings" (Lk 13: 35).~ He cries when one of his friends dies (Jn 11:35). "Tears flood my '~eyes night and day" (Jr 14:1~7). This God is somehow helpless with-us. He can do nothing while sinners prosper and good people are stoned to death (see Mt 23:27; 21:35; 22:6). When we s~uffer, he suffers. To perceive a. God who may be broken is to discover intrinsic value in, the experience ,of brokenness. Brokenness is no longer seen as evil in itself, or something which reflects God's absence. Instead, brokenness be-comes the place where we can touch God in .a new way; we can share with him~on deeper levels,.with greater understanding. "A destruction has been decreed," says the .prophet Isaiah, "that will bring inexhaustible in-tegrity. Though Yahweh has struck. [you] harshly, he will heal [you].-. He will reveal himself to you" (Is 10:22). Job, innocent of any crime.but devastated by God ne.vertheless, concurs. Brokenness establishes for us .a new relationship ~with God. "I knew you tlien only by hearsay, but now, I have seen you with my own eyes" (Jb 42:5-6). Brokenness is not just a bad side of the human condition; it is the foundation of integrity, the place where we encounter God face to face. And because God is there, brokenness becomes essential to the realization of true. liberation and full humanization. To be human somehow, contains the inherent predicament that we 1112 / Review for Religious, l/olume 36, 1977/2 tend to build houses on sand instead of on rock. We seem consistently to Choose the particular~in place.of the universal; 'we settle for myopic truths rather than truths of a cosmic dimension. We see aspects of God, and tl~en label them as God in his entirety. We reverence certain values, and then. give' them too much value. We discover another person, and then make-him° or her into a god. Like Humpty Dumpty, we sit securely on the great plans and structures we have erected, never realizing that they lie directly over the "San Andreas fault." Inevitably they crumble and we fall apart with them, never to be put together again in exactly the Same way. Brokenness hurts so much and affects us so completely because it always involves'the loss of something we value, someone we believe in, a truth upon which we base~ our lives. In a sense, the value, the belief, the base from whii:h our actions flow, are all false gods. To lose something or someone extremely significant shocks us into recognizing that although we have been sincereand t6 the best of our knowledge, righteous--we have also been dishonest. We have limitedtruth to our vision of truth; we have blinded ourselves to the larger reality. When we do encounter the real truth, it nearly devastates us: we hit 9.0 on the Richter scale; we ex-perience the total disruption of our previous life patterns. It is as though We were dismembered, detached, estranged from our own selves. The~ truth hurts. None of us likes to get broken. To preserve our-selves from pain, we necessarily alienate ourselves from truth. This, to me, is the essence of sin. We sin whenever we are content with our present understanding of reality and refuse to hear, see, or feel anything to the contrary. Remember the temptation of Jesus in the desert? It is the tempta-tion not to stumble, not to fall, not to be broken. We sin whenever we try to maintain Our psychological, social, or spiritual, status quo~and thus pre-vent the truth from getting too close. How ingenious we are in employing defense mechanisms which sus-tain our superficial peace of mind! How eagerly we let our inner sirens, like those of Jesus Christ Superstar, lull us to sleep and convince us that we have nothing to be worried about. How quickly we turn off the problem~, subsurface anxieties and fears that upset us/ and believe that everything is as it should be. "With God on our side, who cab be against us?" (Rm 8: 32). Just trust in the Lord, and we shall be saved. This artificial stance is what Kierkegaard would call "philistinism." It is a mediocre type of existence which thrives on safety. Like Chief Bromden, in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, we refuse to "stick out too far," and like Jenny in Ingmar Bergmann's Face to Face, we cannot .probe too deeply within ourselves. Either position is a risk; either can break us. I am beginning to realize that we are all makers of idols in one way ~or another. We close ourselves ~ff to certain parts of reality. If we start feeling uneasy in our self-deception, we simply take another pill, swallow some more bourbon, or enroll in transcendental meditation classes. In some The God. o] Brokenness / ! 113 area of ou¢.~iives and' our relationships, we .d.ull our truth-receptors and choose to live--again, like Chief Bromden--in a perpetual state of fog. So much of our "normal" ' existence so effectively evades the truth, that it takes a bizarr~ and catastrophic event to. make us realize, with Dr. Martin Dysart in Equus, the enormity of our numbness and the magnitude ofour 'repression. No wonder that when promises and relationships (which were really founded on incomplete truths) are broken, so' many of us have emotional and nervous breakdowns. Brokenness forces us to re-evaluate our vision of-reality, reassess our beliefs and values, and perceive the truth more comprehensively. What continues to amaze me is the belief that in Jesus I not only find a broken man who stumbles and falls all the way to Calvary, but a broken God who stumbles, falls, and is crucified. The God-man on the cross is the most" incredible event in history. It not only boggles my mind; it shocks me (like St. Paul who got knocked down from his horse) into new levels of awareness. That God would choose to become part of the human condi-tion, that he would be incarnated as Jesus, that he would allow himself to be broken, forces me to see reality in a new way. Truth becomes larger than I ever imagined. My former truths, like clothes which have shrunk, are no longer big enough. I have changed. I am somehow more honest, and thus, mor~ capable of achieving liberation. I believe that the God-man on the cross happens every time we suffer, every time we wait withoot hope, every time we lose heart. In brokenness, we enter an altered state; our consciousness expands, deepens, matures. We become necessarily more humble, for we now realize our grasp of truth is not~as all-encompassing as we once thought, our power to control the future is not as absolute as we would,have liked, we' are not really made up of "sugar.-and spice and all things nice." We are not yet honest, not yet free, not yet human. We cannot put new wine in old wine skins, nor can we put new truths in old structures. To become new, to become whole, adult,' ~integrated, means to somehow "suffer in God's way," "to change for.the better" (2 Co 7: 10): We must. detach ourselves from our old struc-tures and bonds; we must constantly undergo experiences of brokenness. We.must "break the unjust fetters and undo .the thongs of the yoke . . . to let the oppressed [in and outside us] go free" (I~ 58:6). It is beginning to make some sense to me ~why such towering persons of G0d--Augustine, Teresa of Avila, Joan of Arc, and countless others-- are all persons who have known brokenness, not just once, but over and over again. "It is indeed a dreadful thing," as the author of Hebrews tells us, "to fall into the hands of the living God" (Heb 10:31). To establish an honest relationship with God is to live, as Teresa writes in the twenty-first chapter of her Autobiograph~,~"a troubled life, never without its crosses, but a life of great growth." To t~y and yet to make mistakes, to be sincere 184 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 and yet to fail, to give everything and. realize it is still not enough, is.to be, come more human and, I think, more like God. Perhaps what I am writing about is another version of John of the Cross' last Night of God, Albert Camus' existential stance in the face of absurdity, the Gestalt therapists' belief that we must experience and value our suffering. In each of these systems of thought, we are called upon to suffer with a courage which~'in a way surpasses faith. For m~e,~the God of brokenness is a symbol which evokes from me the realization that God al-ways transcends what I believe about him, and thus challenges me beyond faith to a courage to let go of my questions and also m~y answers. Like Job--face to face with the God of brokenness l receive not only the power to persevere through suffering, but the power to heal and be healed. This is what I think Paul means when he writes:- "I struggle wearily on, helped only by his power driving me irresistibly" (Col 1:29). If we can but touch this broken God, contact mystery and let it remain mystery~ then shall our wounds be .quickly healed over (Is 58:9), then shall we obtain new life, then shall our broken hearts be revived (Is.57:15). "I will heal [you] and console you," says the God of Isaiah. "I will comfort you to the full, both you and your afflicted companions . Peace, pe~ace to far and near, I will indeed heal you" (Is 57:18-19). 1 do not write these things lightly, nor are they, for me, "pie-in-the-sky" truisms. I write them as someone.who is just now emerging from an. over-whelming three-year experience of being crushed and broken. I have not been able to put myself together as before, nor, for that, matter, have ."all the king's horses and all the king's men" been any more successful. But, almost like Ezekiei's vision of the dry bones, I feel my disjointed parts knitting together in a new way, with a new identity, a greater integrity, and a freer spirit. God is active and present in my experience; his spirit is breathing life into my broken pieces. ,Not only has brokenness changed me, it is increasing my capacity to act and live so that the liberation and humanization of others can also take place (whether these others live in the Third World, in my, neighbor-hood, or in my family/community). As St. Paul says, it seems we mu~st suffer change within ourselves so that we may be better able to increase love, build stronger bonds between persons, improve our k~nowledge of reality, and deepen our perception of the entire trtith (see Ph 1:9). Broken-hess-- with its simultaneous experience of a passive God--is forcing ,me to acknowledge my limitations, but also forcing me to accept the responsibifity to do what I can to eliminate the oppressors of the human spirit. ~, ~ I do believe in a God of love, but I also know that I do not know what these words mean. Perhaps, as Noel O'Donoghue writes: "Love is first and last the heart open to be wounded again and again and again.~. Where the tears of things, the tragedy of life has touched ~me most poignantly, :The God o/ Brokenness / 185 there, in that direction is the heart of God.''1 For me, a God 6f love is also a God of brokenness--who breaks me (or allows me to be broken), and yet who is broken with me. I do not understand suffering, nor do I understand him. All I can really say is that I have been br~okeg, I am being healed, I will be broken again. And somewhere in my suffering, he will be there. O God, whoever you may be, I pray for the ever increasing ability to see your truth clearly and to keep trying despite all obstacles. Do not let my floundering be for nothing or my agony wasted . Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new (John Donne, "Divine Meditations, 14,). 1Noel Dermot O'Donoghue, O.C.D. "The Faces of God," Doctrine and Li/e, Sept. 1976, pp. 639 and 643. Soliloquy of a Seed Something tells me to surrender ail' I am and hope to be; and (o de~s'cend the dark of earth to be transformed into a tree; but~to go up dare I go down and think a tree can fit in me? Edward A. Gloeggler P~O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11691 Cooperation or Opposition: Analytical Psychology and Christianity Approach Suffering Josef Goldbrunner Professor Dr. Goldbrunner is on the faculty of the University of Regensburg, Ger-many. Analytical psychology and Christianity constitute two theoretical systems; they are both patterns of life as well as two theories about salvation. What is their mutual relationship? Is cooperation between them possible or are they fundamentally opposed to one another? This question is 'to be examined with regard to another question which distresses them both--the question of suffering, We shall investigate the effect the two have on those who suffer, not only theoretically but in the instance of concrete results. How much supportive and effective force does Christianity exert on those who suffer? And what effective force lies at the disposal of Jung's analytical psychology? The method chosen for our investigation is that of the "soul's journey," a method Dante likewise selected as the basis for his Divine Comedy. In the present instance, however, we have in mind a contemporary soul-journey; and we envision, as it were, a skyscraper with an elevator in which we will ride from top to bottom through all the stories down into the basement where the foundations of the structure--analogous to the dwelling place of the soul--are anchored. A stop will be made at some of the stories and the problematics involved in each stop will be debated. I From the penthouse at the very top of the building we gaze out into a landscape of suffering whose traces are evident everywhere: psychic suffer-ing, .spiritual suffering, mental suffering; and in every instance pain is pres- 186 Cooperation or Opposition / 1117 ent like a devouring, caustic acid. The full]/ human experiencing of such pains we term suffering. Is there any remedy for this suffering, any rcure or perhaps even a deliverance from it? A terrifying landscape of suffering lies before us, a landscape which at first glance seems meaningless. Dare this suffering exist? Ought it to be? Must it be? Is suffering an .evil or is it good? And not only do we encounter evil as' something existent, but men as well who of themselves increase it. These are questions which have plagued mankind since the beginning of time. If we descend one story, however, we will discover there, stored in a library as it were, the answers which mankind has proposed to these self-same queries. Let us begin with antiquity: Vergil knew that objects, too, have their tears--sunt lacritnae rerum--and Aeschylus had his Agamemnon state that "in suffering there is knowledge." That is the pedagogical value of suffering, a value 'which is still a contested issue. Then, too, there are books in which the pain of initiation rites is described, pains of growth or "becoming" in-flicted during such rites. There are, furthermore, books which glorify this pain as a type~of mysticism of sufferingi Christian spirituality in particular has contributed to the support of this attitude: through suffering one merits heaven, for suffering is a form of participation in the sacrifice of Christ. We can also discover books about the intoxication of pain, books which originated in archaic mystery cults, As a result of this intoxication of suffering an explosion-like expansion of consciousness is produced which extends into the realm of religious experience: Although the aging and .morose Schopenhauer denied that pain has any meaning whatever, Kant spoke of its immanent value to life~ Nietzsche elevated it to the level of an heroic stature and Teilhard de Chardin maintained that pain is indeed a propellent force in the process of evolution. In the writings of India we are taught that it is only through repeated rebirths that we are ultimately freed from pain. In the books of the Jews pain is looked upon as a punishment for guilt and is required for the confirmation of the good. And then there is Camus. In his novel The Plague he~ says to the dentist: "We ought not to rest so long as there is one child who is still suffering. A god who would allow such a thing--no~ there is no god." The poet Hermann Claudius once penned the noteworthy verse: " 'Great God of eternity, do You will joy or sorrow?' And the voice above me spoke, 'Why do you distinguish be-tween the two?' " Thorton Wilder remarked sarcastically: "Why have the gods not expressed themselves more plainly in this matter?" And Berdyaiev, who died in 1948 as a Russian 6migr6 in Pai'is, speculated in his famous boo~, The Meaning o[ History, about the possibility of a catastrophy which erupted within~the bosom of the Trinity: pain may well have arisen as a direct consequence of this catastrophe and God himself had to make 188 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 amends for this by personally entering into the world,and gathering it unto himself. Answer follows upon answer. In the final chorus of the Passion Accord-ing to "St, Matthew we are told: "Amid tears we. sit down," but it is pre-cisely this, ho~vever, that we no longer are able to do. Sorrow shouldo.nOt be; that is the protest that weighs upon our shoulders today. We ought to do everything in our .power to ward off pain.Can analytical psychology be of any ,assistarice here? And .Christianity, what can it effect in this. at.ca? What can the therapist do to alleviate suffering? What, the pastor of souls? III ~ Let us descend one more story where we come upon a therapist's con-sultation office. Across from him sits a patient whose eyes radiate an intense suffering, a, spiritual~ pain, a person who can no. longer, frge himself.from his own nightmares. Hideous monsters harass him, close in upon him, and the more he tries to ward them off, themore they pursue him, the more loath-some they become. He endeavors to defend himself against all this horror, against theseS'negative factors that seek to force their way out of his uncon-scious into .,his consciousness. Then the therapist demands of him that he overcome this dualism, this .dichotomy within himself, by accepting this darkness~within him, by admitting that these monsters spewing forth evil are also. an integral part of his nature. The patient .stares at him without comprehension, even more, with spiritual horror. He is to be~not only Jupi-ter, but Saturn as well? Not only: Apollo but equally. Dionysus,~,Faust and Mephistopheles? And help, he. is told; can be obtained, only if he.':over-comes~ this dissension, this dualism~ and admits that this darkness .is only a part of himself. Yes, this is the way to wholeness, the way.~of integration of the darkness within one's own inner self. This is the juncture at which curative indivjduation occurs. Analytical psychology points out ways to such a possibility,for life; Who-ever has once gazed into the horrified eyes of one suffering in such a man-ner, ,one caught within such a personal crisis; and whoever has seen how there gradually emerges from this horror a composite of shuddering and fascinated astonishment, because in this commingling of good,,and evil, .of joy and.grief, in this union of light and darkness a new dimension reveals itself, a religious dimension actually; whoever has experiqnced these things for himself knows that the way of individuation is indeed a~form of healing which leads one from the depths of spiritual suffering to new life: That,is the way out of the dualism of light and darkness to the ,fusion of their antitheses; out of the enmity of good and e.vil, the enmity~of good and,evil tendencies, to the reconciliation of, the, two; from the separation of the conscious from its roots in. the subconscious to wholeness; from fruitless suffering to a type of rebirth. Medical experience has discovered the truth of this again and again with reference to individuals, the individual.patient. Isit Cooperation or Opposition / !119 not possible that the way of individuation is of equal verity with reference to the collective life of.mankind? Would it not be possible, then, that ana-lytical psychology could also aid in the alleviation of the' great .sufferings of all mankind? ~ ~ . IV , Let us now leave the therapist's consultation room and'take the elevator down another story to his study, a veritable replica of.the chambers of Doctor Faust. A book is lying on his desk, a copy of Jung's Answer to Job, and across from the psychol~herapist sits a thrologian who is at the same time an expert in pastoral care, a man in other words who" is not only learned in the area of theory but one who from personal experience is in-timately 'acquainted with the heights and depths of the human soul. He places a copy of the Holy Scriptures on the desk in front of him and a dialogue ensues between the two, the psychotherapist and the theologian, between psychology and Christianity. In his book Answer"to Job Jung poured forth all the. professional anger in his soul his anger with God, the creator of such a'world, and his anger with Christianity which often enough only increases the sufferings of man here on earth. The book is, however, also an attempt to apply 'his theory of individuation to the question of the sufferings of mankind. Although he is not able to provide a wholly satisfactory answer to this question, otir expectation allows us to hope that he will be able at least to convert the torture chamber into an operating room. Let us listen a moment to Sbme of his argument and share a portion of his Answer to Job. Dichotomy, dualism, division--these constitute the source of all un-happiness; but especially the dichotomy between the conscious and the un-conscious, between light and darl~ness and, too, between good and evil. This dichotomy within the soul is projected onto our image of God kand thus God is drawn into the dichtomy within the human soul. According to Jung, Christian teaching has recognized only the luminous Christ as the Son of God, while his dark brother, Satan, has been wholly separated from God. In a very early stage 0f the development of Jewish theology, Satan was still a member of the heavenly.court and he bore the title LuCifer, the bearer of light (Jb 1:6). Christianity, however, drove him out from the court of heaven, thrust him down into hell and thereby separated evil from God. In God resides only good, and consequently all evil, all wickedness had to be eliminated from the image.of God. The orientatiow toward such an image of God, however, must necessaiily have negative repercussions on man, who will then seek to repress into .himself all forms of darkness arid to force his shadow down into his subconscious. It is there that the devil now rages and generates collective explosions the two World Wars and the ter-rible interlude in Germany between these wars. If we would but dare once again to alter the image of God, to concede that Christ and Satan are:both 190 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 Sons of God, to unite light, and darkness, good and evil, to reconcile joy and pain, and to recognize in God the conjunction of antitheses as a complexio oppositorum; and then, if man would have the courage to identify himself with such an image of God, then indeed mankind would open a way for accepting the evil and shadow within itself, an acceptance with even a religious basis, for it would but reflect the very nature of God himself. Were this so, ext, reme tensions would subside to a bearable and politically manageable level. The conscious would be so conjoined with the subconscious that henceforth evil could be controlled by man and never again would, the explosions of warfare have to erupt from within the structure of society. That would indeed be a way for mankind out of count-less sufferings. This is a fascinating train of thought and, even though the exegesis of Ju.ng's book is now long out-of-date, we do find in it an image of God the contemplation of which demands great courage: God as bright and dark, good and evil, an image which nonetheless could prove to be the remedy for the hopeless situation of the world today. Were this concept to prevail, analytical psychology would be more than a mere medical, discipline; by abandoning the consultation rooms of the doctor, psychological therapeutics would evolve from a healing science to a salvific science. But let us not at- ~tempt to take the easy way out. There are passages in the Old Testament which seem to verify Jung's view: see Is 45:6-7: ". I am the Lord, and there is none else~ I form the light, and create darkness; I make peace, and create evil . " And in Lm 3:38: "Shall not both evil and good pro-ceed out of the mouth of the Most High?" The image of God in the Old Testament would seem to confirm what Jung proposed. The theologian sitting opposite the therapist begins to speak: "I under-stand your whole protest, sir, the protest of the doctor, .of mankind, the protest of a grieving and sickened mankind. And I admit that appearances seem to speak in your favor. I have one main objection, however, to your position: your way does not penetrate the world within, it does not breach the inner realm of the soul, for this image of God consists only of a projec- ,tion from within man himself. Whoever seeks to address the question of suf-fering, however, has to break through to the exterior world, he would have to coordinate his image of God to God's. own reality--and this cannot be accomplished solely with projections from within man's inner world. As a theologian, I would like to advance an argument of my own. "My first argument can be found in the New Testament in I Jn 1:5: '. God is light and in Him is no darkness.' According to the evidence of biblical exegesis, light in this instance signifies ethical perfection. In God, therefore, there is no contact with moral evil. God is light and no darkness exists within him. To project darkness onto the being of God contradicts the clear statement of Holy Scripture. On this issue, Christianity clearly opposes Jung's Answer to Job." Cooperation or Opposition / 191 This position, however, creates a new difficulty for theology, concerning which one cannot remain naive and say that God is good and everything evil springs from somewhere else. Even the. theologian must make God re-sponsible for the evil and wickedness and suffering in the world, for God created a suffering world. Consider only the fears of animals--fears of one another, of earthquakes, floods and epidemics with all their consequent sufferings. God is directly responsible for all of this physical evil. In con-trast to this, however, it is necessary to distinguish moral evil, because of which an excessive amount of pain is engendered in the world and through which the .physical evil present is increased even more--as for example through the agency of war. Although this moral evil stems from man himself,~ God did create man with this inherent possibility and thus he also is responsible, albeit indirectly, for the moral evil in the world. He effects salvation, and creates evil., he leads into temptation! Is God, therefore, evil after all'?." But 1 Jn 1:5 states that "God is light and in Him there is no darkness." A modern mystic, Marie Noel, wrote: "For God, the Sovereign Good, cannot be suspected.TM Christianity has indeed rejected all teachings which defile the image of God. The question thus remains: Since he is responsible for everything, since he effects both redemption and evil, what attitude is one to assume toward such a God? There are three possibilities. The first one is atheism, .the denial of the very existence of God. The second is the way indicated by Jung, the projec-tion namely of both good and evil into the nature of God~ In both of these instances human modes of thought have been made the measure of God. The third possibility is the open question of whether it is not possible that God is responsible for everything, and yet he is only light without any admixture of darkness. This is something enigmatic. Perhaps angther, a supernatuial possibility is open to God? This open question has always been a thorn in the flesh of a thinking Christianity, ,an open wound that will not heals, but one that prevents us from locking ourselves up within the inner chambers of our soul. It spurs us on rather continually to attempt to break through from the immanent to the transcendent. Expressed in simple terms this means that our open question compels us to permit God to be God and not a human being. Karl Barth stated the problem in a very speculative and scientific sounding formula when he said that this was the "ultimate exhaustion of systematic theological speculation." Despite all responsibility for suffering in the world, there is no darkness within God--a dilemma in-capable of solution in human terms. Thus, it is that indeed on ~principle analytical psychology and Christianity differ one from the other. A second argument consists in the fact that, although one might expect Christ to have revealed something about suffering and to have clarified its 1Marie Noel (pseud. for Marie Melanie Rouget), Notes ]or Mysel] (Notes intimes). Tr. by Howard Sutton. Cornell University Press, 1968, p. 33. 192 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 significance, he did nothifig of the kind. He refused to argue with, the Pharisees'~about it or to offer any explanation whatsoever. His own disciples thought.'within the framework of a correspondence between guilt and punishment, and thus when they asked him in the case of the man who had been born blind who was responsible for his blindness, he himself or his parents (Jn 9:1-2), Christ answered, "None of them." Beyond this he did not go--he, offered no proof. He never spoke of the how or the whence or the wherefore of suffering, nor did he promise in any way that our human condition would ever change. He did, however, proclaim a new Day of the Lord on.which the creator would once again touch the world with his creator-hands ~ind remove all suffering. On that day he will cause all former things to pass away and will "wipe away each tear" (Apoc 21: 4).~This is all a reference to some time in the~future and thus to an act of redemption, hot of healing. Can one really take this promise seriously and yet maintain that .it is but ~a futile and ineffectual consolation against a far distant future, aovain 'promise of better things to come in some far distant time? That would indeed be an .expansion, of consciousness to a far distant and ~future" horizon. This' attitude demands of the Christian first of'all a renunciation, of any°reasoned proof for the necessity of suffering; secondly, a reservation and modesty in judgment before the enigma of the question of suffering,' which ought thus to be treated as a "question of discretion" in relation to God~ and thirdly, it is demanded of the Christian that he sur-render ,himself to suffering. ~ ~ This leads~directly to a third argument, the distinction, namely, be-tween' "evil~''~ and its.,"fuiiction." Evil does remain evil, but it can have a positive function. Pain is terrible, but it can also have a positive function. Suffering ought.,not to be, nor should it be allowed to continue to exist, and yet it too can exert a positive effect. Although the evil ~remains evil, even ~in has positive :consequences. That is the mystery of the felix culpa, The why and the wherefore of evil and wickedness and suffering are connected With God, although we are unable to explain how. But what we can ascer-tain is at least a .part,.a thread of this whole skein of realities, namely 'that the function, of evil','or wickedness or even pain can be positive as well as negative. Let us discuss this matter in somewhat greater detail, An excellent and telling example of this point of view is to be found in Lhe story of, the prodigal son and the banquet given in his honor upon his return home (Lk 15:1-32). His sin remains sin, the evil he committed re-mains' evil, the suffering he caused remains suffering--this is something he did do, something which did hurt his father. Later, however, in conversa-tion with his father during~the celebration banquet, the son begins to under-stand for the' first time"his 'father's maturity, and for the first time the father can rejoice at the reasonableness of his son who at long last has outgrown his ~child!sh naivete~ This certainly does not imply Some form of mysticism of sin, nor is it an appeal to sin, for in no way was it certain that. the son Cooperation or Opposition /d93 would ever find his way home again. He could just as easily have lost his way forever. But for him who returns we rejoice. This positive function of suffering is an experience which analytical' psychology has concretely ascertained and with which it operates; it relies upon it as a medicinal factor in the,process of curing. To this extent the psychotherapist is a specialist in the area of pain, and to an equal degree the pastor of souls should likewise be such an expert in the same area. This is one of the fruits of the theory of integration of the darker elements of man's nature into his conscious personal!ty. The function of wickedness, evil and pain, therefor.e, can be something positive. Analytical psychology will share this experience with Chr!stianity if Christianity will but renounce naive thinking and forego its predominant modes of thought. To this extent these two theo-retical systems can attai~ a mutual understanding. V Christianity, however, knows something more, a something which can-not be discussed in the atmosphere of~a polemic. Let us, therefore, abandon the room where the psychotherapist and theologian sit across from one another and descend a few more stories of our skyscraper. There0w,e will come upon a chapel suffused with the "air of individuation," that is a s, till-ness with a meditative atmosphere, a quietness that radiates a presentiment of transcendence. And let us fu~'ther imagine that at this precise moment a woman is entering the chapel, a woman who has been sl.andered, and against which slander she cannot defend herself. This calumny has hu-miliated her beyond description and its grave con.s~eqences have seriously affected her marriage, her social position--indeed her whole life. The only thing that she can do, this Christian woman, is to let the suffering in her soul rage itself out until she is wholly burnt out within. At this point in her life she now stands squarely be,fore the Pauline e,xperience of kenosis; the function of her suffering is no longer somethi.ng merely psychic, for in her it has also assumed a theological dimension, a theological reality which cannot be clarified by means of some theory. It is rather only through the aid of symbols that one .can hope to lay bar( .what is happening in-the woman's heart, that we can begin to perceive her struggle in the midst of .the burning pains of her humiliation, in the fluctuating rise and fall of her emotions, in her cries for succor; in the absence of any answer to her grief. All of this is veiled within symbols, and yet at the same time re-vealed by them: Buddha smiles--Christ weeps. Buddha sits--Christ treads the way of the cross Buddha seeks to destroy the ability to suffer--Christ, however, assumes the burden of,the cross Buddha remains silent--Christ cries out upon the cross 194 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 Buddha dissolves his being into the great Nirvana--Christ however, is awakened from the dead Buddha detached all disciples from himself--Christ will draw all men to himself (Jn 12:32). It is a function of suffering:that, by wholly emptying itself, it fights its way through to ultimate humiliation and degradation until everything within it is consumed and dissolved. But then there follows an ascent, a rebirth. The woman leaves the chapel and her bitterness of heart may well have been transformed into a compassion for every living creature. She does not know how this happened, or why, but she experiences it nonetheless, the experience of a transformation. She is not necessarily comforted--for in her soul something was indeed consumed by flames--but she is strength-ened. As Paul Claudel once wrote: "God does not comfort, but he does strengthen." This truth of Christian experience still exceeds what analytical psychology can effect. VI So as not to abandon the basis of sober fact, let us descend yet another story where we enter a dentist's office. He is just about to begin drilling a patient's tobth. Let us also imagine that for some reason or other he was unable to anesthetize the patient's mouth before drilling. He thus demands of his patient the' a.cceptance of the pain to follow, a searing agony likened only to some invention of the devil. This is in a way a tragicomical situation to be enacted in a dentist's chair and one in which there are no heroes. The situation, however, has the advantage of being able to prepare the pain cleanly and in every detail, pain in the purest form, as it were. At this juncture, all of our theories collapse like houses built of cards. When the whole scene is over, we experience a most remarkable sensation, as if some-how something foreign had touched us, as if in a way we were standing on the border of a new dimension of reality. And we are also perhaps thank-ful that the pain, though not our own, has ceased. From where did the man derive the courage to endure such suffering, and to do so in silence? And what transpired in us during the operation? Theoretically we are indeed unable to imagine this, but in the form of a dream it can be done. VII Now let us descend to the lowest sub-basement, where the foundations of both our imagined skyscraper and our psyche are anchored. In a dream series one dream is repeated again and again: a cave in a forest and flight from the cave. In the next dream, however, the following occurs: This time, in spite of great fear, I entered the cave. Suddenly I had to stop because I had come upon the edge of an abyss or chasm. It was horrible just to gaze into it and I could not bring myself to do so. Finally, however, I did look down and then I experienced a moment of terrifying fear, a moment Cooperation or Opposition / 195 of hatred and desperation. Everything within me was thrown into disorder and as I stood there looking down, the chasm suddenly was not there any more. A stream of clear and flowing water had assumed its place, At this point, two questions arise: First, what really is happening in the dream? Abyss, fear, hatred, desperation--is that what dying is like? Some-thing in the dreaming person had to die. "Everything within me was thrown into disorder," he said. The stages of this transformation are clear: the sur-rendering of one form of life by gazing down into the abyss--the descent into a chaos which is simultaneously a creative chaos. Suddenly--and one is not certain how or why, since this is decidedly not an intellectual process which can be initiated or manipulated--an ascent, a rebirth is symbolized by a stream of clear flowing water, the water of life, the sign of a new life. Is the mystery of suffering ultimately the same as the mystery of kenosis: dying, chaos, new life? A sense of awed modesty in the face of such an occurrence cannot fail but to seize those who have ever been permitted to witness such .an event, be it as psychotherapist or pastor of souls or simply as a fellow .human being. A second question here 'forc6s its way to the fore: whence did the pa-tient derive the courage finally to stare down into the abyss, to confront his suffering? ~The intensification of his personal crisis, the increasing pressure of his suffering are without a doubt contributing factors. Certain energetic dynamics of his psyche must also have urged him forward. Just as as-suredly, however, this ~was also a question of inner stature and for this very reason such courage cannot be demanded of those with lesser internal forti-tude. An equal role, however, must be attributed to the effect of the ther-apist whose consciousness influenced, in an intellectual manner, the con-sciousness bf the patient; in like manner, too, his unconscious influenced the patient's unconscious. (This non-verbal communication can go so far that the patient's dreams and those of the psychot.herapist's are actually identical, a fact attested by recent research in this area.'-') The 'transformation must also have been effected by the fact that the third psychic instance in the psychotherapist--one might call it the "self" or even the "person"--in-fluences the nucleus of the patient's own person. That is the non-verbal, cura-tive gift which can effect courage, the courage tO gaze down into the abyss and to accept this suffering and thisdying. It is also an invitation to a further penetration and absorption into one's inner sel~. This is a process which cannot be manipulated; and whether the patient is willing to cooperate in the process, whether he or she.participates wholeheartedly and with under-standing, can only be the result of a composite of pressure from suffering, inner fortitude and freedom, free choice. At this point psychotherapy is no longer merely a form of mechanics, but has become rather a communica, tion between therapist and patient, an exchange worthy of a human being. zH. Dieckmann, "Der Traum und das Selbst im Menschen," in Analytische Psycho- ~ Iogie, V (1974), 1-16, esp. pp. 11-12. 196 / Review for Religious, lZolume 36, 1977/2 The pastor of souls also exerts an influence on the faithful, consciously in conversation with them, subconsciously when he suffers with them, as St. Paul said: "Weep with those who weep." But over and above this, the nucleus of his person influences that of the other, and if faith dwells there and~ inothis faithS,~ the pneuma, the blowing of the Holy Spirit, then here we encou~nter a new, a pneumatic dimension which is not to be found in depth psychology. In-this instance Christianity goes beyond analytical psychology. If the .Christian participateg in this movement, his participation is also the result of a con~posite; a composite of the pressure from suffering, inner forti-tude, freedomS,and faith. It can indeed be maintained that, with respect to thei'r efficacy fbrothose who suffer, analytical psychology and Christianity do share much~ ih .common; Christianity, however, exceeds their common bond, it goes :a,step beyond it~ VIII Let us now leave the cellar and mount upward again. After such a "jour-ney of the soul" one ought to recover one's equilibrium over a .glass of wine, or~better yet by participating in a' symposium. A portion of Plato's Sym-posium thus geems fitting here: the participants have spent the 'night in di;inking and revelry and have fallen asleep, including Aristodemos, 'the commentator of the final scene. On th6 following morning, as the cock be-gins to crow,~.he awakens and sees that onlythree others are also awake-- Socrates and two of his drinking compahions. They have filled a huge bowl with wine and in' honor of the gods of morning, they pass it around from one to the other, each one sha~ing it with his neighbor on the right. Socrates is trying to explain to his companions that a truly gifted writer of tragedies must at:,the same time also be a writer of comedies. This is that famous Socratic irony that reappears again and again and which Guardini interprets thusly.' "The thinking man realizes that realities exist which exceed his ability to formulate.''':~ ~ Human, words cann~3t encompass the truth, and one should be able to laugh at this, just as Socrates and his companions did. Having now taken a soul-jc~urney through the great question of suffering, weighed terrifying questioris and looked into the depths of various chasms, the ultimate re-mains to be said: we have no answers. We. have nonetheless experienced something about the efficacy of suffering. This can annoy us; yet on the Other hand we can laugh at it as well. To us as Christians the latter is be-fitting. In conclusion we might well cite Harvey Cox who, in a diagnosis of the religious attitude of our present age, made a statement that is in essence aparaphrase of this very Socratic irony: "Comic hope is the mood of Our embryonic religibus sensibility today.'"' :~Romano Guardini, Stationen und Ruckblicke. Wurzburg, 1965, p. 49. ¯ 'Harvey Cox, The Feast of Fools. A Theological Essay on Festivity and Fantasy: Harvard University Press, 1969, p. 156. A Movement Toward Hope: Christian Fraternity of the Sick Pdtricia Loivery, M.M, Sigt~r ~Pdtri~:ia has, ~f late, become a frequent contributor to these pages. Twenty-five years i~ ~P~r6, she resides at the~conveht o[ Madres de Maryknoll; Casilla 491; A~requi~a; Perti." ~ - ,~ Ond~of the most moving experiences of~Christian .community in which I have shared took place in a house dedicated to "Our Izady. of Happiness." The o~casiian was the "VI National Assembly 6f the Christian Fra~ternity, of the Sick." At this week-long meeting 53 delegates from 14 dioi:eses in Per(= gathered tb. review the past work of the fraternity and set new goals for the,ftiture. The~tffeme of the meeting was: "A New Man for a New Society." The model of that ne~v nian, of'course, ~was th~ Risen ChriSt, but~ Iosaw be-foreome~ men= and women' Who were veiy much in the process of becoming "new;' thdmselve'~. The majority of the delegates were young (20-_30), °most were severely handicapped and all were utterly ingpiring.=;Being with v~aliant handicapped people was, not a new experience for me, but somehbw the un2selfconscibus~ happy and dedicated way they approached the work at hand ,was asterling exampleoof what the,'fraternity is all about: These people, 'having passed through~theirodarkest moments of suffering with the help of others, were now ready and eager' to share the vision of their, new life and the source of their happiness. Each had0his, particular story but ho one was~much con-cerned about dwelling on it, and certainly, there was no trace of self-pity or need for sympathy. The atmosphere was one of normal, happy, enthu-siastic people .facing .a challenging .task; the complete acceptance of one another promoted full and active participation on.the part~ of all. ~ Our long,day began in the chape!~where our best sharing and dialogue 197 1911 / Review for Religious, ,Volume 36, 1977/2 took place. The hours sped by as we attended meetings, did household chores (dish washing was a fun time!), relaxed, sang, introduced the whole group to particular areas of the country through slides, typical dances and stories, attended uplifting liturgies, and offered a helping hand (or foot) to anyone in need of it. There are numerous examples that could be cited to make one marvel at what handicapped people can do, but I prefer simply to' state the fact that there is nothing they cannot do, especially when gathered together in a house of "happiness." In this article, I would like to give some specific information about the Christian Fraternity of the Sick--its history, spirit, structure, concerns and hopes for the future. History In 1942, in the City of Verdfin, France, a young woman named Mar-garita Renaud was in the hospital. At the same time, the chaplain, P~re Franqois (now Auxiliary Bishop of Verdfin) became a patient. During his time of recuperation, and having learned from his own experience of suf-fering, he began to see the patients in a new light and treat them with new interest. One day he suggested to Margarita that she write to several other sick in the city, inviting them to visit the hospital; three of them responded to the invitation. Two weeks later, five came t6 visit Margarita and P~re Franqois and all committed themselves to visit other sick in their homes. From then on, they met every two weeks to discuss their visits and to share their insights. Pi~re Franqois led them tO a deeper understanding of Scripture and of Christian community. Thus began the Fraternity of the Sick--a movement of the sick for the sick. ~, ¯ Two years later, thirty-fivemembers, some on stretchers and. in wheel2 chairs, made a pilgrimage to the shrine of the Virgin in Benoite-Vaux, and there they celebrated the '~'birthday" of the fraternity. Little by little, it spread to almost all the dioceses of France, ,to Switzerland, Belgium, Ger-many, Africa, Canada and Spain. From Spain it was brought to Mexico and to the countries of Central and South America. On March 1,. 1967 the seed was planted in Perti by a~dynamic Jesuit, Padre Manuel Duato. His own personal experience of physical pain coupled with a joyous, bouyant spirit won him many followers among0the sick and handicapped in Peril. They nicknamed him: "Padre Quitapenas"--the priest who takes the pain away. His friends grieved deeply when. he died of can-cer in December of 1973. His memory is perpetuated in his lasting gift to them: a new way of life--the way of hope, courage and joy. " The spirit of the fraternity is both realistic and idealistic. The realism is the acknowledgment that we are limited, weak, sick. We are not afraid of the word "sick," but we do protest the commonly used word "invalid" A Movement Toward Hope / 199 because it connotes ~the idea of worthlessness, uselessness and complete in-activity. The fraternity challenges the indifference of modern society toward the physically limited or weak person. We do not hesitate to acknowledge weakness because, by experiencing it, we have become more truly ourselves with a deeper capacity to contemplate the existence of God and the mystery of life. But, like other minority groups, we feel the need to fight for the recognition of ourselves as full persons with corresponding rights and duties. We recognize and accept our infirmity for what it is--an evil, but not of our own making nor a punishment from God. Jesus said of the man born blind: "I~ was not that this man sinned, or hi's parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him" (Jn 9:3). We.do not pretend to know the answer to the mystery of, evil~ but we do have a. realistic response to it. We intend to accomplish what Christ has given us the power to do; overcome it. The idealism of the fraternity can also become a reality because it is :solidly based on evangelical charity and fraternity. Even on a purely human level we recognize that brotherhood involves understanding, interchange, giving and receiving, interdependence. But for us, this human fraternity has been transformed by Christ who, having made himself our brother, calls us to be brothers of one .another and sons of the Father. This Christian family .is one. in which .the smallest, weakest, poorest are the most beloved. In the movement's Charter, five of the seven fundamental principles deal with ~spirit"; the other two explain the structure. Padre Quitapenas literally "took the pain away" when he emphasized: "Maximum Spirit-- Minimum Organization!" ,. Charter Point l: Evangelical Charity Charity as practiced in the fraternity strives to' imitate the qualities of Christ~s~own love. It is universal'becauseit is not limited to a certain ~class of people; it is for all without boundaries, It' is disinterested: Jesus loved us first and was faithful until death. We go out to our brothers without fear of being rejected or misunderstood, not expecting praise or gratitude. It is respect[M: Christ never imposes, always invites. We try to awakefi the other to his own worth and dignity, calling him forth with patience and perseverance. In this prOcess, we come to recognize his true value, and often receive more than we are able to give: Lastly, it is total. As ~'Christians we strive to give the best of ourselves in total dedication;' even to being Willing to give our lives for the other. Christ lived that kind of fraternity~ This point might bring the response: "That's too mu~h to ask!" But it would not be an ideal if it did not ask so much. Striving for such an. ideal causes us to give more than we thought we could. Perhaps more than others, the sick need this kind of presence rather than ideas and words, however beautiful, to keep l~hem from isolation and despair. Where there is solidarity ~200 / Review Ior Religious, Volume ,3,6, 1977/2 there is h6pe., It is a~ if,Christ' said:~"Organize yourselves as,brothers,, treat each other.as such, and obstacles will disappear,,barriers fall and prejiadices 'overcome." So it is that love and understanding which leadSto deep and harmonious relationships are the very soul of the fraternity. ,, Point I1: Dedicated to, All the Sick Without Distinction . ¯ . Because of its nature, the Christian Eraternity embraces all .who are -sick without ~ discrimination of culture, social, status, religion., age, sex or type of infirmity. The fraternity is open to all because each one-is a person ~who needs community. Children, youth, adults and the aged are all welcome ~ in,~the fraternity,,but it is to the young adult that the fraternityr.looks for the :vitality and dynamism needed to carry on its work. Because of-their critical awareness and disillusionmentwith, present conditions, they are willing to take responsibility and work toward change. As one totally paralyzed youth said at. our assembly: "We want a revolution~a revolution of love!" Although the fraterni.ty is a lay,~apostolic movement, in the Catholic Church, it welcomes those of other~faiths, Christian and non-Christian. We -do not come together to discuss,our_differences, .but rather to unite~.our efforts to,build a better worldqn which each person becomes whole. It*should be noted, however, that in forming a fraternity~.'it,i~ important that its. leaders be deeply convinced of the gospel 'message; otherwise, they ¯ could not transmit it to others, o. The fraternity is .not an association or pious confraternity which a. per-son j6ins by signing up.'Rather, the individual ~is meant to 15articipate; ac-cording to his ability, in the responsibilities and activities of the movement, to feel part of the movement. To participate is to live fraternity. This in no way eliminates certain sick people, for example, bed-ridden patients,¯ be-cause the first responsibility of a member of the fraternity.~is,concern for other sick people. This concern can be expressed in many different ways, an important one being our openness to friendship. It is not uncommon that ,a meeting ~or activity is held by a group gathered, around the bed or wheel-chair of a person who cannot'be moved. : ~oint_ I11:, UniIying Contacts The fraternity promotes a. spirit of unity, both personal and communi- ~tarian, among the sick and with the well who wish ~to participate in the movement by offering their friendship and service to the sick. ,.,~. The concept of Christian friendship underlies° all our contacts. Much could be said about the beauty and value of .friendship and the great gift it can be for one,who feels isolated and alone. Suffice,it to say-that the concept of friendship which we try to live consists in: --concern for the good of the other , Sacrificing oneself for the good of the othe]" ~ committing oneself to action for the other. ~ ' ' A Movement Toward Hope / 201 The beginning of'friendship is person-contact; often this contact is made through visits to the sick in their homes or in the hospital. We feel that these Visits should be characterized by attention, respect, esteem and~itedication. The person being visited is unique, therefore deserves undiv, ided attention and sincere interest. We offer it willingly, showing by our attitude that we are more interested in listening to him than in watching the~clock or talking about ourselves. We respect his personal freedom to share or withhold his confidences and friendship. Discretion teaches that we not press our own religio,us:beliefs on him; without speaking of God, his presence can be felt, Through genuine esteem~ we will come to see the personal worth and true value of the person, and will begin to learn what he has to teach us. In giving the best of ourselves to the other, he will gradually know that we have come to help him carry his burden, to make his sufferings our own. Bi~sides promiSing to visit him again, we invite him to our group encounters when he is able to come. The regular fraternity meeting (once a month on diocesan level and oftener, .if desired, on parish level) is a unique opportunity to promote the sick person and to form leaders. A meeting that does not foment the active participation of the sick is a failure and cannot :be called~a meeting of the fraternity. We are not interested in a faultlessly ordered meeting or in num-bers, but rather that those present come of.their own choice and participate actively, .and that the atmosphere be one of warmth which encourages all to enter into dialogue and decision making. Thus the sick person learns the .value of working in a group in which his own opinion and that of others is respected. The meeting consists of reflection: on a gospel passage, b.usiness and usually some socializing. ' Other encounters vary according to the initiative of the group. Some of the more common ones are: workshops, retreat, days, general meetings | (which include all zones, or two. or more zones planning an activity to-gether), liturgies and the Sacrament. of the Sick, picnics, parties, etc. All encounters have as their objective to bring ~the sick together to experience friendship, personal growth and each one's ability to take responsibility for himself and others. Our-friends, the Collaboraiors, are well people who value the ideals of the fraternity, seek to understand the sick person through friendship and offer their services as an expression~of that friendship. We value our relation-ships ~vith ,the well.We need each other and each has something to offer the other. The collaborator learns (through experience as well as in planned workshops) how to be comforiable with the sick, when to assist and when to encourage independence. He or she learns to be present in such' a way as to fill a need unobtrusively. The collaborator may take an active part in fraternity meetings, etc., but should always be aware that leadership in the fraternity belongs to the sick. The support, encouragement and patience of the well often open the way for the less secure handicapped person to come 202 / Review for Religious, :Volume 36, 1977/2 into his own. Specifically, the well may have some talent, learning or tech-nique which can be shared to help the handicapped advance in a particular area~ Other collaborators offer mobility which facilitates the sick person's participation ~.in meetings, activities, etc. These friends, are appropriately called: "Flying Angels"! The sick, in relating to collaborators, grow in appreciation of the ser-vices they receive, and learn to accept help graciously without negating their need or becoming demanding in their requests. As they become friends of the well they soon realize that these, too, car~y the tieavy burden of suffer-ing~ although not a physical one. Often the well person needs to express his own uncertainties, worries, problems, hopes and fears, and finds in his sick companion, a willing listener and grateful friend. The fact that in the fraternity there exists this happy union of the sick and the well proves that, where hearts are open and loving, limitations and differences disappear. Point IV: Integral Development of the Sick Person One of the main objectives of the fraternity is the integral development of the whole person of the sick and physically limited, In Jesus' healing ministry, he always healed the whole person, never dividing him into parts. Just as he was capable of forgiving sins, so could he command the person to stand up and walk (Lk 5: 17-26). The vision of the whole person includes the moral, psychological, spiri-tual, affective, social and physical aspects. Moral and~ psychological re-cuperation often engenders physical rehabilitation, just as the development of the social and religious dimension uplifts the person morally and physi-cally. One compliments the other and all are necessary to facilitate growth. Many examples could be given to show how the inter-action of these vari- "ous aspects have contributed to healing in the person, and the part that a group such as the fraternity plays, As one doctor said: "The fraternity mobilizes a considerable amount of energy in the form of group therapy. which is a powerful help toward complete healing. It is not that an ampu-tated leg will be returned, but that, in spite of everything, the man can be complete, minus one leg?' ¯ Another important break-through comes for the sick person when he realizes that God loves him and accompanys him in his suffering. This in-sight is often ,given him through the human love of others; It .helps him to face the future with more hope and Christian optimism. Point V: Integration Into Society and Active Collaboration in Its Trans- [ormation Another'important objective of the Fraternity is to help its members become fully integrated into society so that they might contribute actively toward transforming it. A Movement Toward Hope / 203 -You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Nor do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven (Mt5:14-16). Christ invites his disciples to act without fear in the presence of the world so that others, seeing their good works, will know of the power of God within them. As the sick and handicapped grow toward wholeness, they face the dif-ficult task of integrating themselves into their environment: the family, so-ciety, the Church. The fraternity is a movement that discovers the sick, pro-motes them and then returns them (without ever having isolated them) to their community ready and capable of making their contribution. It teaches them to be critically aware of conditions imposed upon them; to see, to judge and to act with Christian vision. False ideas about illness perpetuated by the family can cause the sick one to become a non-person. Families are inclined to two extremes in the problem of handicapped members: over-protection (paternalism) which causes the individual to lose his personality and become the "eternal child"; or, through ignorance and disinterest (abandonment) he is made to feel that .he is an inconvenient burden altering the life of the family. In either case, the sick person may lose interest in everything, including his own personal growth, becoming apathetic and selfish. Society, for its part, would prefer to deny the existence of the handi-capped'person. It sets up protective institutions~which gradually de-person-alize the individual and make him incapable of participating in the rights and duties of an ordinary citizen. In this, the sick person must judge so-ciety and challenge its prejudices, He can,prove that the true value of the person lies, not in physical beauty and material productivity, but in the gift of spirit and life. The fraternity urges the sick and handicappdd to develop their potential and prepare themselves through study, mastering a trade or developing a compensatory faculty, to live an independent life. In many cases, the handi-capped person may be more efficient in some particular area or job than some. well people, but he usually is considered eliminated even from ap-plying.' It is not a question of the sick trying to compete with the well, but of being recognized as persons and given equal opportunities. Many sick and handicapped people may never be able to join the hus-tle and bustle of our work-a-day world, but by their steadfast patience, clarity of thought; ability to listen and look for solutions, and by sharing their deep peace and joy, they can silently transform into light the darkness of our world. The Church, too, must take a new interest in developing and utilizing the spiritual potential of its handicapped members. It is not enough to as-sign them to a life of prayer, precious as that is in itself. Values, sorely 204 / Review for Religious, ~.olume 36, 1977/2 needed in our world today, can be highlighted by the presence of the sick in the Christian community. Reflection on the Paschal'Myst6ry, hope in suffering, spirit-strength in weakness, the value of life over all things, the lesson of obedience, victory over evil, the attainment of happiness and wis- ,dom, the privilege of carrying one another's burden are but a few things the sick have to say to the Christian community. Point 1/1: Team Leadership ~ The fraternify is vitalized by teams of responsible sick and handicapped people. The value of working in~teams is well known by all who have ex-perienced such group effort. Foe the sick person 'the support of a, team is doubly important. Through it, he learns the value of and need for unity, dialogue, sincerity, friendship, vision, and solidarity in action. He discovers that he is important, but not indispensable; he knows that what he lacks another has;' and he learns, through practice, to develop ,his leadership qualities and help others,to develop theirs. Teams of responsible' sick and handicapped people are formed'at the parochial, diocesan, regional and national levels~ These~ in turn, are re-sponsible to an International Team. The teams in their distinctive environ-ment promote, orientate, coordinate and vitalize,' both in depth and geo-graphic extensi6n,!~ the fraternity. A team iscomposed of at least five members: the responsible person, the assistant, the spiritual advisor, a secretary and a treasurer. In order to give as many of the sick as possible the experien6e of leadership, the teams are renewed every two yearsoby election. Most of the sick cannot dedicate full time to the work of the fraternity, but carry out their apostolate over and above their ordinary.duties: In order to begin a Fraternity, a group should have the approval of the local bishop,~ work together,for at least one year and then seek .affiliation through the National Fraternity at a General Assembly. Such7 a fraternity is being established in the United States by a Marianist brother who. previ-ously worked in Peril.1 ~, The teams.,are responsible for planning meetings and other activities, but, more importantly, for. preserving, the spirit of the f~raternity. There are many pitfalls into which the fraternity could fall. Some would make. ofit an enterprise for solving labor problems, a social service,~agency for material assistance, a recreational center where the sick distract themselves or a .confraternity of prayer. It is none of these even though,some aspects of each are. present. Those who. come to the fraternity looking only for personal ,or material gain usually leave disappointed. Many others catch the spark of the true meaning of "fraternity" and are richly rewarded. The fact that the responsible positions in the fraternity are assumed 1Brother' James L. McC~.ffrey, S:M': Cehtral Catholic High School 1403 N. StY' Mar~'s Street; San .Antonio, TX 78215. A Movement Toward Hope / 205 by the sick themselves stamps the :movement as a liberating one. Who better than the sick can 'understand the sick and plan for them? How better can they face their own reality, promote themselves and prepare for taking their ¯ .place in ~.society: , ~. Point VII: The Role of the Minister The Fraternity receives its vital Christian orientation especially from the religious minister,., who is usually a.priest~ but could also be a brother or sister. This person is known in the fraternity as the Assessor. Although the assessor is a member of the governing team, he contributes more by his discreet presence and unifying word than: by his organizational ability~ He is meant to be a. brother to his co~workers, and a friend a.mong 'friends. Often it is his supportive presence that enc.ourages the lay person to fissume his responsibilities; skillfully, he can. draw,.out the more timid ones to express themselves and help them make' their own decisions. His principle task is to direct the team and all members of the fraternity toward a deeper~ understanding of the Christian spirit; and lead them. to seek solutions t6 their,problems in the light.of, the gospel: 'By his own life witness', his word, and sensitive ~attitude, he gives spiritual vitality to the movement a'nd sets the sick on the road to discovery of their own spiritual depth Since the fraternity welcomes one and all, many enter it with little .spiri- ;tual formation; therefore, it' is primarily the religious minister who should be cohScious of their spiritual development: Through talks, worksh.ops, re-treat days and personal contact, he can begin the process of spiritual forma-tion that has so much meaning in the sick person's life. ~, The assessor is appointed by the bishop and is the fraternity:s direct link with the. Church, He seeks to work :with parish priests,, hospital chap-lains and others interested in ministry to ,the sick .in order-to transmit the spirit of the fraternity and develop a pastoral plan for the sick. He l(eeps the fraternity in touch with other lay apostolic movements for mutual en-richment. He is also in a position to heighten awareness in the hierarchy of the needs, iproblems, aspirations anti'activitieS; of the sick in the difcese. More than any of these, aspects, though, it .is his simple presence, his [attitude of service and his inspiring word that makes the assessor a key fig, ure in the fraternity. " ~ Aclivilies . ,~ ¯, Here' I would like to mention a few of the activities.our fraternity groUp in Arequipa (Perti) has undertaken. Through them,'we have tried to reach out;to others in love, and have become fuller, happier people because of it. 1) AnnualFraternity ,Encounter To mark our anniversary each year; we in-vite all the sick and handicapped of~the city to an all-day celebration on the last Sunday of April. It is a gala affair beginning with the arrival of some 300 people ranging from children~ to old folks, many in ,wheelchairs, on 206 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 crutches or aided by a friend. A well-participated concelebrated Mass opens the program. This year, 'for the first time, two of our members were married at~ this Mass. After the Eucharist and formal words of welcome our dedi-cated collaborators serve a well prepared lunch. The afternoon is filled with music, fun and games. The hidden talent of the handicapped is discovered as the blind sing, the old amputee dances with the aid of his crutch, chil-dren recite poems and tell jokes, young people play musical instruments and lead group singing. A special feature of the festivities this year was a soccer game played by young men and women in wheelchairs. Each was given a straw broom and the. action began. We might have been in the stadium watching professionals, so exciting was the game! 2) Reflection Recently seventy-five members of the fraternity gathered for a reflection, day during which we had a. group dynamic which helped us to count our blessings. Each person received a letter from an imaginary friend --"Joe?' In small groups we discussed the letter, and then in a general ses-sion formulated the answer. Unfortunately, "Joe" had been in an accident which left him partially paralyzed and in a wheelchair. According to Joe he had no friends now except the happy, active handicapped person to whom he was writing. (Joe wondered how his friend could :be so happy, anyway!) As for himself, everyone had deserted him and, although his family was nice enough, he knew they were just putting up with him. He was never going to walk again so he might as well be resigned to doing nothing the rest of his life. Joe did sincerely try to think about God but he couldn't understand why, if God were really his Father, he could punish him this way, especially since he didn't deserve it. The priest was always coming around telling him that suf-fering has meaning, but that went in one ear and out the other. Joe pre-tended to listen because, after all, he "couldn't offend the guy." What .he really wanted was to~ hear from his friend who had gone through the same thing and could sympathize with him. In answering "Joe's" letter, his friend reassured him of his friendship and understanding, but urged Joe to open his eyes and see the brighter side of life. Self~pity was blinding him! How could he expect people to come to him all the time? Why didn't he go visit somebody else and make some friends? There are a lot of people worse off than himself right in his own neighbor-hood. He could go around and see if he could help them in some way; or, at least, he could get to know them and talk things over. Joe would find that if he tried to make somebody else happy, he would be happier himself. Next, Joe ought to think about job possibilities. True enough, he couldn't walk but he still had his hands and his head. There are plenty of things he could do with those, but if he didn't put forth a little effort, he'd. never discover what they were. If he feels .useless, he has only~himself to blame. It is too bad Joe can't see any meaning in suffering; his friend sure can! Why, it~ makes a person feel so much closer to other people who are going A Movement Toward Hope through the same thing (without complaining); after all, everybody has something to suffer. It's a,nice feeling to be a real brother to somebody. Joe should know that God isn't going to try him beyond his strength. He is giving Joe the opportunity to stop and think about life and become a bet-ter person if he wants to. Joe ought to remember that God's own Son had to suffer, and by suffering, save the world. Now he's giving Joe a chance t6 do something for the world, too. Sooner or later, Joe will find out that his accident, instead of being a punishment, is a blessing in disguise. About the priest, Joe should'realize that if Father keeps' coming back to see him, it means he wants to be his friend, and he should appreciate that. If Joe really tried to listen, he would learn something. One thing for sure, if Joe doesn't get hold of himself, he'll soon find out that the greatest suffering in life is selfishness. Poor Joe! 3) Radio Programs For many shut-ins and sick people of the city, two weekly radio programs called Fraternity are a source of education and in-spiration. 'The programs consist of background material about the fraternity, letters and testimonies of the sick, information about rehabilitation or spe-cial courses being offered, a spiritual message, and news of,activities, meet-ings, and so forth that are being planned, The unique part of the programs is that they are planned and executed entirely by the sick and handicapped. One of~ the participants is Reyna, a blind girl, who reads her script in braille. To the unknowing listener, Reyna sounds like anyone else, but to her proud friends she is someone special. 4) A Christmqs Project Christmas is a special time for expressing fraternity. Each parish or zone usually has a party which many of the sick attend. Last year, in planning ours, we realized that the house-bound sick, who need the partY ,.most, would not. be able to come. So we decided to take the party to them. Settling on ten people, ~e planned a one-hour visit with each, giving them the choice of the. day and an afternoon hour during the week before Christmas. We packed a party box and wrapped a gift for each visit. The gifts were chosen according to each one's need or specigl interest. The very poor received a basket of food; to old Don Lucho, whose life revolved around the Sacred Heart, went a statue of the Sacred Heart. The party goers were usually four; two handicapped people, one collaborator and the pastor. To begin our visit, we set up a small crib, sang carols, reflected on the Mystery, shared what Christmas meant to us and prayed for Christmas blessings. Then we chatted and had the party with the growing number of family members who gathered as interest grew. Before leaving, we presented our gift. Don Lucho was in ecstasy; no other gift could have mean so much to him. He died two months later gently embracing his Sacred Heart statue. Observations It may not be practical or even possible to apply all that has been pre-sented here in a given situation, or to belong formally to the Fraternity of 2011 / Review ]or Religious, Volfime 36, 1977/2 the Sick. However, I feel that Christian fraiernity is as varied as creative Christians are numerous. Therefor(, the following suggestions may serv6 hs a spring-board for those who owish~ to direct their ministry to the sick in a "spirit of fraternity:" --Approach the sick as "real7 people who hav'e the same needs, aspirations, hopes, desires,, joys and sorrows as others. Respect and love them for what they are and what they can become. --Raise the consciousness level among the sick by helping them to see, judge and act in order to change their own attitudes and eventually transform their ambience. Bring the sick together so that they might become friends.~ In friendship they will learn to appreciate themselves and one an-other more, and, in solidarity, make their contribution to the commtinity. --Reflect and pray with the sick so that they may grow in knowl-edge of the ways of God, and come to understand their mission. (Isaiah speaks beat~tifully of.,God's love for his suffering servant, the mission to which he is called and the reward that will be his.) Share your ministry with the sick; provide opportunities for them to minister to other sick; encourage them to go beyond them-selves, reaching out to others with the sure kn.owledge that the weaker they are the more powder t~hey have to raise their brothers. qsaiah's prophecy, read by Jesus in the synagogue,,is often used to de-scribe the official minister's, role in the Church. I believe that it also ap-plies to those other "servants" who have been tried and corfie forth as gold (Jb 23: 10). They, too, have been commissioned to bring the good ne,~,s to the most isolated and forgotten, the world of the sick. Together with it, ttiey can now carry their own spirit of hope. "The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me; He has sent me to announce good news to the poor, To proclaim release for prisoners and recovery of the sight for the blind; To set at liberty those w~.ho are oppressed. To proclaim the year of the Lord's favour." And he said to them: "This text is being fulfilled today even as you listen." (Lk 4: 18-19; 21)' An Obstacle to Community Waiter J. Handren, S.J. l~ather Handren is now retired. He resides at Loyola Center; 54th & Ci_ty Ave.; Phil-adelphia, PA 19131. Deafness is an illness. If is a malfunction of one of the'~iaarts of the body. it is a depri~/ation, an abnormality, something which can distort other parts of' the human makeup in the person's efforts to compensate for his lack of hearing. As with all other things which affect humankind, deafness has both its physical effects and its social'effects, and, consequ6ntly, its psychological, mental and spiritual repercussions. It causes not only lack of hearing and corisequent isolation, but also bouts° of temper, ignorarlce 6f much of what is happening in the world and tlespondency. It is usual, I believe, when speaking of this affliction, to refer to "deaf-ness" as the total loss of hearing; any "partial loss is called "hard of hear-ing." In this article, for thesake of brevity, I stiall use the word "deafness" only, making distinctions whenever it becomes necessary to explain the na-ture of the case in question. ' "I suppose that I, just iis all other human beings, would be oblivious of the condition of the deaf had I' not suddenly become deaf, that is, become ¯ extremely hard Of hearing,~ at-~ge 65, just at the time that I was retired from a life-long job of.teaching. Having attained the status of "emeritus," I had plenty of time to observe"c~refully all the effects of~a seventy-five percent loss of hearing, to think many long and,seriou~ thoughts, and to come:up with some ideas about it. It is the result of these meditations which I am offering for~your consideration. When'a person suddenly goes deaf late in life there is an added frustra-tion put upon him which, perhaps, may not bother so much thosewho have suffered from a hearing-~defect over many years. All life long he~ has been accustomed to hearing. His reactions those swift, spontaneous responses 209 210 / Review 1or Religious, l/olume 3~,~ 19~77/2 ~ to sound which all normal hearers have, but few notice--have been attuned to hearing properly, and responding promptly. Then, of a sudden,~there is badly impaired hearing, and the quick, eager reaction is checked in mid-air, as it were; because suddenly there is nothing to respond to, and one is caught at a loss. One wants to hear; the strong, immediate drive of one's whole being is to hear and answer, but there is now no hearing, or, at least, not enough to make sense. Even with a l~earing aid this is true for those ~,ith badly impaired hearing. For this frustration to keep recurring day after day is wearing on the nerves and can cause other psychic phenomena such as (apparently) unmotivated testiness, snappishness, or else gloom and brooding. Of course, the religious, trained as he is in the spiritual life, has enough sense to fight against these moods, but they are there, and their tantalizing presence is wearing. The deaf person can no longer enjoy music. If he has been a music lover this becomes a great sacrifice. A person with normal hearing has no proper concept of what it is like to listen to a beautiful piece of music, one which has been loved in times past, and to hear nothing but cacophony: some notes coming through piercingly and others not being heard at all. The result is just noise. Your friends ~annot really understand that. Sym-pathetic or not, they have no idea of your plight; so you avoid music. Nor can the newly deaf any longer enjoy the theater. O~ what use is it to sit,in the dark for two or three hours and watq.h people move about the stage?. In order to know what it is all about you have to read the play after~ wards--if,,you can find a copy. The same holds true for, lectur.es.and at-tendance at large meetings. Most lecturers seem .to speak confidentially to the first row, even though they have a mike before them, and as for qu~es-tions from the floor, there is a dead silence in the hearing aid, as though the' .questioners were afraid of the sound of their own voices. But, ~after all, who are the deaf? About 5:3% of those over 65. use hearin.g aids, and only 0.4% of those under 65. This is a very small seg-ment of the population. Is it really worth a great deal of trouble and ex-pense to try to help such a small group? ~- Even~in conversation a hearing aid is not much good beyond six, feet or so: When~,there is a general conversation with many taking, part, the babel of all those ,voices confuses the hearing aid and iams the receptio.n. This is something else people find it hard to believe. Here they are .shouting at you, from a distance of a few feet and yo.u. refuse to. hear and undeLstand! But all the time the~background noises and the echoes of their well-meant shouts are blocking all possibility of communication. And so the deaf stay away from as many social~g.ath~rings as they can. . Now,~.why all this? After all, the deaf hav.e these~ very expensive~,elec7 tronic gadgets intheir ears, why ca~n't~hey hear as,well as any ~o~ther person? When I was buying my hearing aid the ~technician said~to m~: '~Father, remember this is an aid, .not a replacement for your lost hearing., Nothing can take the place of your own ears, but this will be better than not hear- An Obstacle to Community / 21~1 ing at,all." How very~true! . o A,,.hearing aid is a .small microphone and amplifier, ~, highly . refined but of,-limited.range. Every sound it picks up .is amplified, and it amplifies equally all the sounds it receives. But,.the human voice is the softest of,.all souiids and, thus, all the other~harsh, piercing or overwhelming sounds of our contemporary din-culture are far more penetrating than the human vpice,could ever be. Let me give some examples., .~,~ As I sit 'at ;table with .:a friend, he .may be speaking to me just a few feet. from my hearing ,,aid, yet the clashing and crashing (as it sounds to me) of knives, forks hnd,cro~ckery a few. tables away will jam .his voice out.Or, take .the classroom scene.- The walls are clean and bare, as are the blackboards and ,'ceiling; the floors are polished hardwood, the desks covered with smooth,, hard: writing surfaces all perfect substances for echoing. Then we have the teacher's voice bouncing off these surfaces, anti the. coughs, the scraping~.of feet, the shifting of chairs, the laying down of.lpens; and all the oother~signs of,~life,and activity ,usually found in class, .rooms. Not only these sounds but even the echoes are amplified so that the wearer of the hearing , aid ~ is sometimes drowned in a sea of sound. The human v~oice has a hard time penetrating such a din. ~'. Well, what can°be, done about all this? The first thing that occurs to me is for all~ normal hearers to make themselves conscious of the~ situation. Don;t. think that whoever wears a hearing aid automatically obtains normal hearing~ or'~even good artificial hearing. He has .only avoided, the worst° of his problems; namely, how to hear anything at all. There is a big gap be-tween "tuning in" on the human race, and actually hearing what the human race is saying. There is the further problem of trying, to get the human ~race to speak,clearly, distinctly ands fairly slowly~ so as not to run the~.syllables together. For,. if the second ,syllable comes too hard_upon the first it is drowned,by the echo of the. first, and the third by the second, and s6 on ad conlustonem. Then, too, the normal speaker sprinkles "ifs," "buts,"k,"nots" ~and. many others earth-changing words of small size through-out his speech, to the distress of~ the mechanical, ear. 0 .~. If you wish to communicate with the deaf, .keep ,~ your voice as much as possible at the sam.e pitch, and iiatensity. The i~xp~ressive tonal, changes of emotional, conversatiori will be lost on the unemotional, hearing aid; itqs,,a receiver, not an interpreter. I think that religious houses,could do something abrut the,,decor of ,the places where the commianity gathers, such. asi'ecreation rooms, chapel, dining rooms, and the like. Non-echoing surfaces would be the?desirable thing if the deaf are to be accepted into the confidence of community conversation. It does,take special efforts to communicate with the deaf and each individual must settle his own con-science on the amount of' charity he is willing to exercise in regard to his fellow religious who are poor in hearing: One would think that the predicament of deaf human beings, as I have outlined it, would offer no particular problem to a religious community 212 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 which is supposed to be founded on charity. However, there is a large problem, a~hidden snag, which contradicts all theories. ,The ordinary, evbryday religious.is not deaf, and, therefore~ is not r+minded twenty-four hours a day of the condition of not being able to.hear. And, so, he forgets, ands the-deaf person is forced to the constant, .annoying0practice of re-minding people' of his difficulty. This becomes very tiresome. You would think that the sight of the hearingaid wouli:l be reminder enough, but ap-parently~ it"is not. The deaf person feels about as you would if you had to begin every conversation by reminding people of your weight, or your age. It is just as annoying'to have to keep announcing, one's deafness. And so, we deaf ones tend to "drop .out." We avoid all but necessary meetings with others; we avoid large gatherings; we avoid the theater, the lecture hall, the concert hall, even the TV room; and we end up by~ becoming quite isolated. , ~, This is not so bad for those who love to read, to think, to write, ,to paint, or otherwise lead their own private lives, but itqs not community:~life, and the deaf seem. rather cut off from community. Sitting around-in silence among one's fellow religious is not community; we c'an go, out and take a bus ride to do that! A.further misfortune is that many of the deaf still retain~the gregarious natures God gave them from the start. This isola-tion is especially ~ hard. on them. They. miss the points;'of all the jokes be-cause the point is usually buried in gales of laughter by the narrator and the audience. They miss the~quick, incisive bon mot, for it is usually, delivered in, swift, low tones. They miss the emotional conclusion of a story; because the speaker usually whispers it to himself. We certain.ly cannot consign all the deaf to. the'.oblivion of their ail-ment, no more than we can the elderly, the lame, the blind, or anyone else 'who has .lost ~some.of his physical faculties but not the use of his reason. We are told that due to the excessive noise of our .times (hard "rock," jack hammers; low-flying jets, band saws, power mowers, power leaf-blowers, sirens, diesel.rigs on the road, and all the dreary rest of it) there is.~a growing incidence of deafness seven among the young. If this be true, we can expect 'ttuite a time of it in a generation or~ so: I delayed writing this article for thr6e ~years, nagged b~ the worry that it- was motivated by self-pity. Yet, I really believe that what:I have said needed to be said, and~meditated, and acted upon. The deaf I have knowfi in the past have been very patient, e.ntirely toO'long-suffering, humble people," perhaps despairing of ever being understood, and~they have not made a sufficient case: for themselves. It is' surprising how little has'been written, about deafness and its social effects. I hesitated, then, to write, and argued with myself, until, one day I was discussing the subject with a friend and mentioned my fears. He replied with a laugh: "Don't worry about that. You will not hear what they .say about you, any aWy. , - ~" ?,ome to think,of it, that is one of our consolations. , Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ David ?J. Hassel S.,]. l~ather Hassel has been involved f~r the last six years in the T

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

Issue 35.3 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited by faculty members of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright (~ 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Book Editor Assistant Editor May 1976 Volume 35 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELICIOUS; P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOrt RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Obedience to MiSsion Sister Barbara Hendricks, M.M. Sister Barbara :Hendricks .,is a Maryknoll Sister who was missioned to Peru from 1953 until 1970. Sinc_e. then, she has been President of. the Congr.e, gation. She resides at /;he Sisters ~enter; Maryknoll, NY 10545, when not vi~siting her sisters missioned throughout t,he world. Th~s arhcle is from a talk that was given "at a Renewal. 'Week-end held ~t the,Provincial House 0f the Notre Dame. de Namur Sisters in Maryland on Janti~ary 24~26~ 1976. Introduction ~ - We live~ at°a momerit when the Church is appr6achin~g a fuller interpreta-tion of ~ts mission. We are_ beginning to understand that the Good News of Salvation in Jesus is neither dee~lless worff nor woi'dless deed; it is rather an ini~gral r(spo~se to th.e many critnic naele hdsu Imt ias s a l.v a"t iio!n " w oh i"ch can 'iServade and heal the phys, i~al, ps~cliological and spiritual wounds Of the world.We are conwnced that salvation begins now and that somehow we hav6 to have an experience of it in b~urlives ~is persons an~ as com-munities. Salvation is not ~omething ihat will only~ happen in eternity, but there must be a beglnmng of the~Klngdom here on earth. If this is true, then, holiness is not only,. ,apersonal transformation but it is meant to flow ~ut~vard infb human relationshipsi~both inte.r,-personal anal S~ructural.~ In the early sixties 'in South America we began to hear .the word "evan~gelizati~n,' beiqg used to 'dbscribe ihe essential task oof the Church. It was not a new w~d for those bf us who used to call ourselves "foreign mi~siona~ries.'' It was s~rt of our ;~thi~g." It meant going out there beyond the Church community to. preach the 'Gospel and plant the Church¯ Our articulated theology of mission put heavy emphasis on our "spiritual mis-sion" but in actual fact, we spent a good deal of our time engaged in the 322 / Review /or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 corporal works of mercy. A lot of debate started then" about what this Mission of Evangelization really means. It has been hot and heavy. The 1974 Synod on Evangelization and the latest Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Nuntiandi, are signs that the Church is indeed deeply concerned with Mission. For some Christians "evangelization" has meant recruiting new mem-bers, religious instruction of converts, teaching catechism, cultivating an inner spirituality or preaching missions in parishes and dioceses. For others, especially in the 1960's, it began to mean serious social action: promoting civil rights and concern for human dignity, witnessing to justice and peace or liberation from all forms of economic and political oppression. In more recent years, for certain groups in the Church it has come to mean a closely-knit, mutually supportive inter-personal community of shared wit-ness and prayer, highly alert to the presence of the Spirit, healing and reconciling. Our choice of definition depended a great deal on our own personal history, and the needs we experienced in ourselves ~and in the milieu around us. I think that the Holy Spirit has something to do with the recognition of 6ach of these dimensions of the evangelizing mission of the Church, and although we engaged in heated debates during these last ten years as we struggled to live out and espress an authentic con-temporary theology of mission, most of us knew that somehow we had to bring it all together, that our mission had to reflect the mission of Jesus in its entirety. The era of debate is subsiding as we move into the latter.half, of the 1970's. We Christians are beginning to listen to each other and tq the Word of God spoken and still speaking in our midst. We are now more concerned with the message itself, realizing that method is only the sec-ondary problem. Mission is .both message and method; btit with6ut a clear understanding of the.message, the method b6comes a lifeless, mean-ingless exercise of communication skills. So our main concern, then," is what is the "Message of Salvation" and how are we as religious, as apostolic people,~ to proclairh it in life, in work and in~word. More than. ten years ago, at the close of Vatican II, we were left with three docu-ments on the natui"e of the Church and its mission in the world; Lumen Gentium, Gaudium et Spes and Ad G~ntes. I have a feeling iha~°today we should put them together in a coordinated and harmonious integration. It was typical of the 1960'siha~ three distinct documents were needed to describe the same subject--t.he Church. It will be typical of these next ten years that theology of mission will c6nstruci a ~ynthesis of the many aspe~cts of evangelization to be lived and articulated. The Obedience o[ ~lesus In Saint Matthew's Gospel (3:13-17), we read: "As soon as Jesus was baptized, he came up from the water, and suddenly the heavens Obedience to Mission / 323 opened and he saw.,the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming down on him. And a voice spoke from heaven,' 'This is my Son, the Be-loved.; my favor rests on him.'" Jesus' missior~ comes,~from the Father, who, confirms~ in i~im Lh)s missibn of salvation for hum'anity. All. mission is initiat6~ by the Father~ who consecrates and sends. This is the beginning of Jesus" public ministry ' "he is 'sent by the Father." ~ 'Immediately after his 'ba~p,t!sm, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilder-ness, where he is confronted by the demonic power. He is° tempted three times and in his responses we have presented to. us wh~t I would call "guidelines for our mission." We can apply them to ourselves personally, to our rehg~ous °communities and to the broader Church. They have to do with the means we take.~t~pro~iaim the Good N~ws: -First. Jesus is tempted to turn stones into l~read. He responds, "man does n~'t qive on bread alone but on every word that ~omes from the mouth of G0'd." To satisfy physica~ hunger 'without at the same time" providing the Word of God, the Bread of Life, is. to otier°a partial salvation. Mission conceived of as promoung matei'i]~l well-being' without the dialogue of faith arid th~' sharing of the W6rd i~ not authentic Christian mission. ° " "Second. Jesus is tempted to display his power grid at{ract by the forc~ bf ~livine intervention.'H replies; "You must not put the Lord, your God to the test." Jesus' mission is not to perform prodigies and thus draw to him-self thos+o~vho admire power and prestige, but rather it is to transform hearts 'and relationships, i His miracles are reserved for those who are disposed to ~effr his Word'and'humbly ask his h'ealing. Third. Jesus is te.mpted to bow down before Satan~to lift up idols in place"of~'the true GOd. He ,is told that worldl~ kingdoms will be thus at ,his disigosal ~'He reslb6n~s, "You must worship the Lord your God and serve him alone." chfisti~anm :i"s s"i"on can never set up alliances with earthly po~vers or make arrangements for sycurity'at the cost of serving false g6ds. To accept the~ statu~ quo and not to struggle for th~ realization of the Kingdom of justice and holiness is to bow down before false gods. These are. the three temptations which persons, communities and the Church itself must confront and overcome both. internally and in the world: --seeking material well-being to the~detriment of the spiritual di-mension of life; using p6wer by secret, allianizes, manipulation and oppression; --setting up idols before the true God. ~ The disciple of Jesus consecrated for his mission fis continually involved in an interior struggle ,against private demons while at the same time con-testing the very same manifestations of evil in the 'institutional structures. .Jesus comes out of the wilderness and begins his mission with these words: '~Rep~nt, the kingdom of heaven is close at hand." His message is a two-edged sword; it names the evi!, inviting'closed hearts to open to love 324 / Review tor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 :and it points~to the signs of hope that salvation has penetrated the human reality: He went aroundthe ~vhole ~f Galilee teachinff in their Synagogues proclaim-ing the Good' News of the Kingdom and curing all kinds of diseases and sickness °among the people. His fam~ spread, throughout Syria;~, an.d those who were suffering from. dise~ises and painful complaint.s of on6 kind or another, the possessed, epilept.ics, the pa~ralyzed~. ,-were~all broughLto~h, im and he cured thi~m. Large crowds followed him . . IMt 4:23-25). Jesus Sends Hi~ Disciples ~ ¯ Jesus immediately calls ~and gathers disciples into t~h~.fi.r~t~c°m~aunity¯ ¯ of apostolic followers. Hi~ re~orded words are, brief but they cohtain the essenaal relationship of "call" to "mi,ssion~'~:,"Follow me and I wdl make you fishers.6f m~en." They are called to be sent. He gathers them in his com-pany so that they in turn will gather others~ i'n tl~e comp~ny of mission. As he has been ~erlt by the Father, Jesus w'ill send ~hem. His mission is to ,;all human hearis and huma~ communiti,es_to, .repentance of sin and to give them an experi_ence of~the nearness of the Kingdom ~f.God. Th'~y leav~ their concerns their .nets and follow him. This is. the first-recorded re-spoose of disciples in obedience to ~,the ~,ord JesuS' call~ to mission ,(Mt 4:12-17). _ Having~gather~d his t ~welve disciples, he sends them:in his name to,the House of Israel: "And as you go, proclaim that ih~ ~ngdo~i of l~eaven is close at hand, cure the sick, raise th~ de.a.~l, clean.s~e the lepers, .ca~st°~out devils." (Mt 10:7-8). And after his de~ath and resurrec~tion, his la'stwords to'his disciples are ~iearly the Universal-mandate to mission: "Go, Ihe, refore, :,mal~ disciples 6f all ~.natibns; baptize them in the name~of the, Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teach them to, observe all?ibe comm~.nds' I ~gave you. And know that l-am with you al~vays, yes, toi.[.h.e~ .end of t'ime (Mt ~28i 19- 20) . Repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be preached to all nations (Lk 24.:47). Go out to the whole world: proclaim the Good News to all creation (Mk 16:16). As the 15~ther sent me, so am I s~r~ding you (Jn 20:3). What, then, do we perceive t~ be Jesus" obedience to mission?, ". ~He-is sent by the Father and he is obedient t6.the mission given . him, even unto death. --~As he begins his public ministry, he confronts the demonic power of evil . - 7--He calls people to repentance,~-and announces~ the nearness of the.,,Kingd0m of God. He explains God's plan for~,.creation; the',, central figure Of his concern is the human person for~whom God Obedience to Mission / 325 Wills. the,perfection of love. With his teachin~g, he completes the sacred history of the.people. --He gathers those:.who_ believe in him, calling each by name, and -~ sends them as he, himself, has been sent by the Father: He travels thrbugh the" land, proclaiming the Good News of Salvation for all. His powerful word is heard and seen and felt because it is enfleshed in deeds of love and healing. --He forms a community of faith, of service and of love in .which he will continue his presence and prolong his mission ~until the time when he will return. The mission of Jesus is both physical healing and spiritual reconcilia-tion, liberation and fulfillment; the Lord's favor rests on the poor, the oppressed, and the alienated. We have an image set before us.of Jesus whose mission i~ lived out in absolute fidelity, to his Father and in faithfulness to human persons and ~their critical needs. There seems to be no conflict-of interest between building the earthly city and praising and glorifying God~ This 6oncern for 'the whole person--physical, and spiritual dimensions-- is the ~ mission . mandate, and it is also the criteria on which we will be judged at the end:."I was hungry and you gave ~me,to eat, thirsty and you gave me to drink . " The Evangelizing Mission in the Acts o[ the Apostles In the book of Acts there is a 'recurrent sequence of events which illustrate the ~continuous movement of Christian mission in the,~ early Chu'i'ch: We~ recognize there, the essential elements of apostolic life. There is a constant ~flow of gathering and sending, healing and proclaiming, con-fronting and suffering, .reflecting and celebrating. The first few chapters concerned with the primitive Christian com-munity in Jerusalem provide us with an outline of integral-evangelization: 'Gathering and,sending." the disciples of Jesus having encountered~the risen Lord° and experienced his healing and saving love, come together to build a faith cbmmunion of love and sharing nourished by the Spirit. The community is bound ~tbgether by prayer, by mutual service, by ,shared possessions, by the instructions of the apostles, and'by the celebration of the eucharistic meal. The Spirit urges them to go outside the faith com-munity and boldly preach the Good News of Salvation, challenging-men and women to repent and to be~converted. Healing and proclaiming: the evangelizing mission thrusts outward be-yond the community'with a deed of mercy. "When Peter and John were going up to the.temple for the prayers at the ninth hour, it~happen~d that there was a man being carrie.d past. He was a cripple from birth and they used ,,to put .him.down every day near the temple entrance called the Beautiful Gate so, he could beg from the people going in" (Acts 3:1-3). The evangelizers are led by the Spirit into the market place, outside the 326 / Review for Religious,. Volume 35, 1976/3 temple gate, and the Word, not yet~slSoken, is revealed by an act of mercy which responds to wor!dly agony and bodily need. In the name of Jesus, the man walks. In the midst of the deed, Peter"speaks the~ Word: ."Why are you so surprised at ~'th~is? . . . it is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of our ancestors, who has glorified' his servant, Jesus . " He pre~iches the .salvation of Jesus, incarnated, despised, suffering, re-jected, yet resurrected and triumphant, active in the midst of the world. Humans need to hear the Word of God spoken in faith and hope and addressed to their personal center, as well'as see and feel the impact of the healing act of love. Christian mission never isolates'the ministry of service from the ~ministry of the spoken Word. The evangelizing act is seen, felt and h~ard. , " Con]ronting and suffering: there is the inevitable confrontation with the principalities and powers (Acts 4:3). The priests and the officers of the ,.temple apprehend Peter and John. They are interrogated and harassed, told to ,be quiet, not to speak of Jesus and his message. The moment of :confrontation with all the suffe.ring it involves, provides the occasion for kerygma. Peter again proclaims the Ggod News even when it means resisting oppression.~_."You, yourselves, judge what is right in God's sight, to obey you or to obey God" (Acts 4: 19). Reflecting and celebrating: the d, isciples return to the community recounting their ex'~eriences, the healing act, the su~ering°-'they endured and ~there is rejoicing of all the members. They praise God, reflect together on Scripture; trying, to interpret the events in order to discover God's plan and purpose in them. "As they prayed . . . they,were filled With the Holy Spirit and began to pro.claim the Word of God boldly" (Acts,.4:3~L). The community of faith sharing and discerning together grows in creativity and valor. ~ A reflective reading of Acts steers us out of ourselves away from a one,dimensional acting out of Christian lif~ and mission. The continuous movement of evangelization in the Book of Acts links diakonia, kerygma and koihomla-~deed, word and community are not three distinct ways of carrying on the mission of Jesus; they are three dimensions of one Christie process in which we are all called to participate. Cohsecration tor Mission in Religious Community The invitation to follow the Lord Jesus is addressed" to the personal center of the one who, in some mysterious way, has been chosen to announce the Good News of Salvation. The person thus "called" perceives th6 Wbrd of God as an 'internal light or truth or warmth which presents an i~perative to stop what one is presently concerned~ about, to .turn to something new, to attend to a persistent urging and pursue a new direction. The person who listens and responds to the invitation to follow this new inner direction finds herself (himself) caught up in a new relation- Obedience to Mission / 327 ship ~with God--a relationship which requires a commitment to his plan for the transformation of human hearts and human relationships. It is 'ba, sically.the 'sanie .invitation addressed to the first disciples and many others in the history, of the Christian Church: "Follow me' and I will make you fishers of men.".The call is for mission. In the instance of a person called to apostolic religious life, there is an experience of deep significance, of the total engagement of one's being. It involves both a feeling of truth about oneself in relation to~ other~human persons and a sense of well-being even when the, commitment will require a difficult decision. A deep conviction arises'from within the person that -God is t:alling her (.him) to a celibate life in community. What is impor, tant to note here is that th~ person called has indeed~been "touched'? .by the Gospel and is motivated by that ,power from within. It .should not b~ simply a matter of having hem;d about the power of the Gospel and ~being deeply impressed by what it has done for~others. It has to be one's own experience of God beckoning. ~' Each of us at one point in our lives, be.fore we entered our particular community, had a dream or a vision. This dream was the way in which we were able to express to ourselves the significance of our inner experi. ence ~oL call. It was about what we wanted to be and what we wanted to do with our lives. ~I believe that "call" and ,mission" (the being and doing) are not two separate realities, but different aspects of the divine.~outward thrust .of love; God breaking through to us and inviting us to participate in his mission, the mission of~his Son, Jesus. God's desire to lib'erate and reconcile ,and, ultimately,, transform all that he. has;created manifests itself in a .special form of outreach to some chosen persons. He gathers these persons into commtiniiies '.for his' special pUrposes :in the historic process with its dire needs. None of us knows why his choice falls where it does, but we expe.rience it and therefore, we believe it. No_one is "called''~ to be simply for herself (or himself) alone. We are invited by God to take part in a transfoi'ming-mission which is the~:sharing of the Good News of Salvation in'4esus. We. are called to proclaim the Word to our brothers and sisters who have not heard nor experienced God's powerful healing and reconciling Word'. ' Obedience: Listening to (~od's Word and ReSponding with "Yes" Obedience is openness t~ God's deSigns and plans for the world. We do not have a blue print of his will and, therefore, obedience canhot ~imply be freedom to conform to what is already decided. It is not'a passive ac-ceptance of the way things are, but an enthusiastic search to discover the direction of the Spirit at .work in hearts, in relatiOnships and 'in institu-tional structures. Obedience, then, means openness and attentiveness to the Word of God spoken and speaking in our midst. It means listening, consultation, 328~/ Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 study, . dialogue and reflective prayer. Above all.it, means listening to one another in the local community, in our larger congregation, and to the different levels of Church in which we participate,° especially our local Church, but also our universal Church, as-~t struggles to articulate its experience, its insights and its consensus. It means trying to ,read the signs of our times; listening and discerning° the needs and aspirations of the society in which we are inserted, our neighborhood, our city, our nation and the .new global world in which we live today. As we listen, we need to analyze, consult and experience, the pain and violence of our times, as well as its joys and ~aspirations. We need to~name evil without despair and to point to the signs of hope with realism and ho.nesty but with Christian faith in the resurrection and promiseoof the Lord. The Spirit is working in the events of history both within the hearts of all of us, within our communities and in the world itself. In the light of the Gospel message our task is to discover the purpose and plan of God taking place in our times and to discern Our particular way of par-ticipating in the mission of Jesus. We have to listen to the Word of God in Scripture and in our own hearts in prayer and reflection. We have to listen to his Word in our own local,:communities and articulate to each other .the fruit of our reflection and prayer, so: that spontaneously together we can share :his Word and grow as a community of faith. The main problem seems to be that we lack very often, the right struc-tures and processes within our local communities and broade~ congrega-tions .which would enable a rhore enlightened obedience, to mission today. Both personally and as communities we need an asceticism of consistent, well organized"and faith-oriented "~omingtogether" for dialogue, discern-ment and. decision-making regarding our apostolic activities as well as for evaluation and growth in being communities of reflective faith-sharing. Our coming together should be characterized by, th~ same belongingness which was typical of the early Church communities. They came,,back to-gether. ,after healing and preaching, confronting.and suffering, and they shared their sufferings and joys, they reflected together to understand better God's plan for them, they offered common prayer-, and Eucharist. And, thus, they went out again with an even bolder enthusiasm to preach God's Word. Obedience, then, consists in listening to God's Woi-d, and growing in our abili.ty to understand its deepest meaning for our life and our mission: 1, Growth in taking respons.ibility for community'.s life and direc-tion, ~ 2. Growth in d~veloping meaningful ministries which tr,y ~to meet the critical needs of today's world. 3. Growth in .sharing the Word among ourselves and in the market-pla~ e. Obedience to Mission / 329 It seems to me that what we have tradition.ally called the "Vow of Obedience" is precisely the way in which each community agrees to li~,e and work and share its faith together. It is the covenant we make with God and with each other in order to grow and deepen our consecration to the mission of Jesus. Conclusion It is imperative for our apostolic religious communities to intensify and deepen our humanization commitments of the 1960's and at the same time, to pursue our hungering spiritual quests of the 1-970's. The Christian in mission to the contemporary, world is called to struggle for both personal and social transformation in Jesus Christ. The realization of the kingdom which Jesus proclaimed is, in fact, the building of an ever widening net-work of relationships of justice, peace and friendship. The personal trans-formation each of us longs for is the holiness of the Gospel, and the social transformation which our world cries out for is our challenge'to partici-pate in the mission of~the Gospel. The cries of our contemporary global society are many-~--for bread, for freedom and jusffce, ~or truth and understanding, for peace and reconcilia-tion, for independence and inter-dependence, for acceptance and friendship and for ultimate transcendent meaning. Somehow, some way, the apostolic relig~ious community must lift. up a ~lear sign for all 1o see that the kingdom of h~)liness and justic~e which Jesus preached is pos's~ible in our world today and at the very same time we must effectively minister, to the most (ritical social wounds in our milieu. ' Our problem today iia the Church and in our communities is not so much one of how to communicate the Good News of Salvation" in Jesu~s bu,,t ,prima~i'ily how to live it. Penance and Brotherly Love Michel Rondet, S.J. Readers of our pages will be familiar with Father Rondet~from his article publisrhed last July: '~Choices of Religious.Life in a SeCularized World." The present article was translated by Sister Mary Dempsey,CDP, an AmeriCan sister presently stationed in France. ~ . The"., sacrament of penance is certainly one of the Christian gestures least appreciated'in our time2 Father Maranache says that we have made of it "~the~ d~poshory .for our obsession~s or the sim~ple door-mat for the ~Eucharist . "~ It is a' gesture ihat is less and less understood today. That is something that should wo0y us, for it could be telling us that we are no longer a sin[id people.or that we no longer think: of ourselves as a sinful people. But. in that case we are necessarily going to be either a guilty peo~ ple or a pharisaical people. Guilty, that is, shut up in our guilt, in a .sense of failure, and therefore living in resentment, isolation hopelessfiess, with our fault; or else we are pharisees closed in on a feeling of our own righteousness. There are many ways of being pharisaical; it can be in the style of the pharisee in the gospel, but it can also be in more modern styles; for example, when a person thinks he is thee .only Christian, or the only type of Christian, who is committed, conscientiou.s;-adult, responsible, as opposed to the others who are only sociological Christians, vestiges the past. In both cases we are'up against a people without hope, who will not bring hope to mankind, for we are concerned with people who are travel-ing a different road friam the God who came for the sake of sinners and to 1A. Manaranche: Un chemin de liberti (Ed. du Scull), p. 91. 330 Penance and~'Brotherly Love / 331 save sinners. Historians of religions have bi~en able to show thht, in most non-Christian religions, it is the,'sinners who go to God to be pardoned. But~ in the Gospel it is always Christ who goes toward the sinners, it is God who goes to them. If we wish to be a holy pe'ople ~we must become again a sinful people, for the holiness to which we are called is not a holiness of perfection; it is a holiness of conversion. The holy people of God'are not a people of perfect beings; they are a race ,of sinners who'have been converted. ~, ~. But let us be careful! Sin is ~ religious reality. It is an attitude that has no meaning except in the context of the Covenant and in face of the love of God. Outside the Covenant there is no Sin, there are faults; there are no sinners, there are the guilty. Sin is a discovery that is made'in the context of the love of God and face" to face with that love. It is the faithful love of-. God that reveals to Israel its infidelity (cL, Ho'll). It is through the love of God that Israel is made aware'that.it is a spouse; unfaithful and at the same time loved over and above all infidelity. There isin th~ Gospel of Saint Luke a.passage that is very significant from this point of view. At the time of: the first miraculous draught of fishes and the call of the first disciples, Simon Peter says: "Leave me, Lord. 1 am a sinful man." At first sight ,this attitude is surprising: Peter did nothing reprehensible that day; on the contrary. It is not, then, the awareness of a fault that lets him~ know he, is a sinner, but the revelation of the fullness of the gift of God through what has just been accomplished before his eyes. Only in the light of the love of God is sin discovered as a religious reality. ~ If, instead of. oscillating between guilt~ and pharisaism, we would be a people made up .of sinners, we would accept-ourselves as such, we could be a hope for the world, because we would be sinners*saved and pardoned in Jesu~ Christ. And so we could make this sign of ,reconciliation which is the sacrament of penance come alive in the world. "-Guilt attd sin: The experiencing of our limitations, of our misery,of our defeat, of our infidelity, can develop in us a feeling of kuilt (~whi~h is found at that time in the°consciousness of the sinner), but there is a great difference between: -:-feeling guilty before a law, an ideal fabricated by others or that we ourselves conjure, up . The only thing to do then is to reproach ourselves or be discour-aged by our mediocrity, and the higher the ideal the more the .guilt-feeling risks being stronger and paralyzin~g., --and feeling unfaithful, guilty in the face of a person by whom we know we are loved and pardoned, abok, e all if that pardon has the absolute quality of divine love. The repentance that can then rise up in us is a strong and vigorous sentiment of gratitude, thanksgiving, hope. He who knows that much has been forgiven him becomes capable of loving much (Lk 10, 47, and 15~ 32). ~ The sense of sin in Scripture is this second attitude, and it is in this interpretation that we make the distinction here, pointing out the opposition between these often-confused ideas, a guilt,feeling and a sense of sin. 332 / Review [or Religious, Volume'35, 1976/3 The Sacrament of Reconciliation What is this sign that we are called :to live out in the Church? 1 ) It is a Memorial of the. Paschal Mystery. The sacrament.of penance is the memorial of Jesus inhis Passion forgiving his executioners and those who are responsible for his death: the leaders of his people, Pilate, the silent majority who have said nothing during the, trial of Jesus and who let himbe condemned. It is to .all those that the pardon of God is addressed in Jesus. The sacrament of penance is above all the memorial of this aspect of the Paschall Mystery, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." ~, It is a memorial of the revelation of' God as the one who forgiv(s; that is, he whose love welcomes us and creates us anew. To forgive is not tO forget,, but ~o refuse to identify the person with his fault, to shut him: up in his, past or his guilty present. Pardon' iS the attitude of hope that we continue to have toward a person, beyond what he has. been or wha't he is. To forgive is to say to someone: "To me you are not eternally, definitively, wholly, the one who has done .this or .that. I expect something else.of you." That is what Jesus did with Peter. It is in this sense that pardon is creative, re-creating hope. In the attitude of someone I can discover that I am other than what I am in this fault and in this sin. We are all sinners, but we are also hll saints in the eyes of God. .2) The'sacrament of penance, is ~the transfiguration of our sinful being into a being saved by Christ. It is the .passover from the table of sinn6rs to the table of sons through the forgiveness of God. We find a very beau-tiful representation of this in the window of the Prodigal Son in the Cathedral of Bourges. The prodigal in exile wears the short tunic'of slaves; welcomed by his father, he wears the long robe of the sons. The eider son, who had ,the long robe in the beginning, is wearing the short tuni+ in the last scene. He has the mentality of a slave. 3) The sacrament of penance is also the germ o[ a definitive and uni-versal reconciliation. Created anew through the pardon .of Christ, we be-come capable of pardoning, of looking upon one another with hope. Henceforth a new world is possible, for only love ge~erates"love. To ac-cept others, to forgive then~, the.person himself must be able to depend on the love and the forgiveness of him who is greater than our heart. And so the sacrament of penance is the gesture that creates the Church as a people of reconciliation; the Christian gesture that '-makes us "peace-makers," men who are capable of being in the world a~rtisans of peace and of reconciliation because we ourselves are reconciled through the for-giveness of God. , How Celebrate This Reconciliation? ' For the Church, the sacrhment of penance is the gesture of Christ that re-creates us. it is also the gesture by which we accept and celebrate this Penance and,Brotherly Love / 333 reconciliation. This is another way¯ of saying ,tha!, qike all the sacraments, Penance~is a Paschal celebration, penitential but joyous. In an old Bene-dictine text of the Middle Ages, this is what,is said about Ash Wednesday: "The monks Cntered with joyful hope into the sacred penance of Lent." The"stages of this celebration: ',, 1) Let the Word of God lead us to the table of.sinners, for. it is only there that we will meet Christ. The saints had a ~reat and profound insight into this truth. We must let the Word of God denounce our false righteousz ness. The table,0f sinners is not a sad table, because it is the table of en-counters. with God. What is sad is the table of the pharisees who trust in their own righteousness. Christ~will never come and sit down-at-that table. I have not said thht the first step is to examine our conscience because it ,is~ not for ,us to discdver our false justice.and injustice. This would be an illusion; it would turn us back on ourselves to excuse or justify ourselves or to be discouraged. It is necessary to let the Word of God denounce our sin ~ind bring it to light. ' ¯ There should be a celebration of the Word. You could prepare for your~ confessions by opening the gospel. ~That would be perhaps the best way to enter into the sacrament: .~ ' '2) Publicly to "confess° our s'infulness and salvation throug.h Jesus Christ, to confess through"a gesture that Christ 'alone is the Savior. It is true that contrition is a requirement for salvation in Jesus Christ. But that is '.not because contrition° saves- us," but because for us that ~contrition is a way'of uniting us to Christ the Savior. Confession is the gesture by which. we publicly repudiate,~the illusion that persists in ms, that it is our re- ,pentance, our good will,othat saves us. No, it is Christ and he alone that saves us. It is'in this sense, to, signify this, that the sacramental action is necessary. In any other perspective it is not justified~ or ii is only. the exterior sign of what our repentance :brings about. Alas, there are a'. certain number of Christians who still have this idea. They, therefore see very little impor-tance in the~sacramei~t, since all the weight of the gesture is centered on their repentance instead of being centered on the Christ who saves: .From this point of view, the monotony bf our ~accusations can be very good., I am. always~th~e same sinner, I.have not changed fundamentally,¯ but JeSus Christ saves me. The accusation is a oprofession of faith before it is an accusation. I proclaim that,Jesus Christ is Savior by confessing my sins. That is the sense that St. Augustine gives to his work Con[essions." the confession that he is~ weak and a.sinner and the profession of faith in God the Savior. 3) With .the Christ of the Passion, we must live our Christian priest-hood. This is perhaps one 6f the most profound opportunities we have to live it. Today, when we honor the priesthood of all the baptized, le't us not at the same time relegate to the shade one of the gestures by which this ,priesthood is. expressed ,with. perhaps the greatest intensity. In the 334 / Review forReli~ious~ Volume 35, 1976/3 sacrament of penance, with the Christ of the Passion, we are the Church which offers to;the Father the sinful world of which we are acknowledged . members. We present ourselves before theFather, selfish, proud, harsh, with the same selfishness, the same harshness, the same self-sufficiency as those who appear everywhere in the world and who sometimes produce bitter fruits of death and of suffering. If selfishness and pride have not pro-duced the same fruits in tis, it is because the circumstances have not been favorable. We are also the Church which accepts the pardon of the Father in the nameoof all and for,~all. It is not our own little pardon that we come to receive as a privilege that is going to set us apart fro~ others-apd justify us in our own eyes; it is the pardon of the Fathei" who welcomes .us in the name of the,sinful world of which, by the grace of God, we are conscious representatives. This is a priestly attitude." Since we are united through baptism to the pries(hood of Christ, we can, in this penitential gesture, live this priest-hood inooffering the sinful world and accepting in its name the forgiveness in 'the Father. 4) To witness through pardon "to our reconciliation in. Jesus Christ." Having tasted the love of God, proved his ur~failing°fidelity, we become capable, in our turn, of forgiveness. There is the true contrition, the true firm purpose: to enter into .,pardon, to enter into the Passover of Christ so as to become in him the people of reconciliation, example and witness of reconciliation in the world. The sacrament, then, opens us out to a -creative attitude that is very important in our time. In the world of conflict in which we.live~ where every society tends to become a closed society, pardon is a creative attitude. It cuts off the inexorable unfolding of our sin-ful history, it introduces an element of radical novelty, introduces an un-looked- for idea that causes hope to flower where it seemed impossible. That is the happy ending to which the sacrament leads us: to be, in the midst of the conflicts of this world, the artisans and the witnesses of a possible recon-ciliation. To let Christ lead us to the table of sinners, t6,profess our faith in Jesus Christ the Savior by the confession of our sins, to'live our baptis~mal~ priesthood by offering the sinful world and accepting the forgiveness of the Father, to enter in our turn into the love which,, forgives because it has been created anew'by the Father this is what it means to live and cele-brate the sacrament of penance. It is quite a different thing from ihat gloomy examination of conscience in which we look at ourselves and our failures, developing vexation and discouragement in ourselves before we pass to a nondescript legalistic action by which we make things right with~ God: To live the sacrament of penance is to celebrate an egsential and hope-filled dimension of' the Christian life. See Luke, regarding the pardoned Penance and Brotherly Love / 335 sinker: he who thinks he has been forgiven little or thinks he does not need forgiveness loves little ~gnd displays little love; but the one who has been forgiven much and' who knows he needs forgiveness can show much love; It is an essential dimension of every Christian lile. We must go beyond a calculated~_concept of the sacrament. It is expressed in 'a gesture and in a sign, but it ought not to be an isolated moment, cut off from life; if it were it would become a gesture of magic purification. Penance can be a_Sacra-ment, a sign which expresses our self and transforms us, only if faith causes us to live continually as, pardoned sinners. The sacramental gesture makes sense only if it permeates.a whole existence and a total attitude which shines forth in our prayer, our,~life, our relations with others. The sacramental gesture is the high point.of a whole life of a pardoned sinner, and that i's what gives its meaning, tO this penitential dimension of the Christian life. This summit cannot be separated from the rest without losing its signifi-cance. The sacrament of penance is, then, a gesture which sums up our whole life, from the acts of contrition that we make, the penitential rite of the Eucharist, rites of. reconciliation, the recitation of the Our Father, times of penan.ce (-Lent, Advent . ), the revisions of life that we make to-ge. ther. It is,all these_ moments that we live the sacrament of penance. All this is part of the sign and~ all ihis finds its true, fully-lived meaning at the time of the reception of ~the sacrament. Also, far from making the sacra-ment useless, all that we have just mentioned calls for it and gives it mean-ing. It is certainly necessary for tile Church of our time to rediscover-forms of celebration of the sacrament of penance which best express the signifi-cance of. this gesture. The Church has known ~any forms in the course of history (public penance in the 0rst centuries, individual confession since the end of the Middle Ages). It is precisely for this reason that the new rite of the sacrament is so important for us today. Penance and Brotherly Love 1 ) In its beginnings; religious life in the Church did not appear as an association of perfect Christians, better than others, like a little "Church of, the Just" in the midst of the larger, heterogeneous Church; but the first communities presented themselves as communities ojf repentant sinners, Christians who proclaimed their need of conversion. We are assembled ,sinners,. communities of sinners who try to love much because much has been forgiven us. This is a constant "of the spiritual tradition of the rel.igious life: a state of conversion, of penzance. 2) A religious community is not a group without tensions and prob-lems, but it is a community that endeavors to make,pardon ever possible, where this pardon can always be asked because each one knows that it will always be given. It is a community where-each one lives amid proffered 336 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 forgiveness, where each can be himself without grudgessor complexe~,,~a ,dommunity where hope is possible because the others look upon,you with hope and forg(veness. A person can become a new,creature in the forgive-ness of others. Par~on always possible makes .hope al~,ays present. 3) "In this sense a religious community can ,be a "vision of. peace,~' as the Church ought tO be and tries to be, not because it is an .idyllic,witness to 'understanding and friendship, but because it is a place of~ pardon ,and of reconciliation. ~ '~ . ~ , Reconciled with my fellowmen, living in theoview, of my brothers and sisters who pardon me in the strength of thd.,pardgn o1' Christ, I can, in my turn he,in the world an artisan of peace, a witness to'reyonciliation. This is .an essential dimension of our life of profound charity, ,not easy to live day by day. Let us'try to live it, and many difficulties will .recede to the background and it will be possible to shoulder them in' hope: Celebrating Reconciliation in. Brotherly Love o ~ I ) We mugt r'ediscover in our lives gestures that celebrate hnd express the penitential dimensioh of our lives. Formerly thei'e~were in the congre-gations traditions of penance on certain days and for certain feasts. They had become formalistic and have'~been suppressed. P¢0bably°it was neces-sary to do this and t6 pas~ .throuffh thig healing step~of purification. But now we must rediscover and re-create something else; otherwise, it~i~; a dimension of life that will not be celebrated. 2) We must rediscover times and intervals of mutual forgiveness. We mu~t find thefia again at the heart of a liturgical act. You have certainly had the experience already: there is sharing that c'an take place only in a liturgical set~ing~ for at that moment we are entirely centered on the Lord. There are things that can be said then arid will be accepted as they would not be in another context, because there wo'uld'not be the 'same climate, the same charity, the same grace, the same presence of Christ; There are times and places of pardon to be rediscovered, during the eucharistic cele-bration, liturgies of the Word, Compline . 3) We must also integrate into the sacrament more'consciously atti-tudes which in. fact already form a part of. it. For example,, certain revi-sions of life,./~ certain search ['or spiritual discernment'made in community in which we are helped t~ become aware of'our deficiencies, our infidelities. . . . We.could make the connection and end a revision of.life, ['or instance, by an aci.of contrition, an imploring of God's' pardon that would 'recall the sacrament bf penance and woiald be ['or each one a preparation for it. In this presentation, 1 have not stressed much the role of the priestly minister in the Celebration of penance. This role is precisely to signify, the 'necessary bond with Christ and this. necessary presence of Christ without which no Passover is realized and actualized. In the sacrament of penance Penance and Brother~ly Love'/,. ,337 the priest; who acts in the name of the Church, is the necessary witness of what reconciliation, forgiveness, salvation, are given to us.in ]esus Christ and through him. We cannot attain to it of ourselves. On the other hand, a celebration always presupposes a people. It is important that the community, whether small or' large, recognize itself always, when celebrating the sacrament of penance, as the Church of Christ. Faith and Justice Francisco Ivern, S.J. Father Ivern, until the Jesuits' recent congregation, had been Father Arrupe's special advisor on the social apostolate and the chairman of his special commission for the same: Since the congregation, he has been named General Counselor as well. A Spaniard by birth, he studied in the United States and worked for some years in Bombay. His present addi'ess: Borgo S. Spirito, 5; C.P. 9048; 00100 Roma, Italy. Introduction In one of its decrees, the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (Dec. 2, 1974--March 7, 1975) has defined the,mission of Jesuits in the world of today as the service of faith and the promotion of justice. It was the most import,ant and specific contribution of that congregation for the future of the Society of Jesus as an apostolic order at the service of the universal Church. Some might argue that, as far as priorities are con~cerned, the decree on "The Union of Minds and Hearts" issued by that same congregation,1 deals with an aspect even more basic for the survival and maintenance of the Society of Jesus: i.e. the spiritual and commianity life of its members. Others might stress the importance of the decree on poverty and the radical changes it introduces into the practice of that vow by communities and apostolic works.~ Finall3}, others might rightly emphasize that the future of the Society will depend on the religious and apostolic formation of its members, and hence the decree treating that topic deserves top priority) All this is in a way true. But the decrees on spiritual and community life, 1This decree will be the subject of a future article in this series. -~See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1976, pp. 191, ft. :*This decree will not be treated in this series as being of too narrowly Jesuit interest. 338 Faith and ,Justice / .339 on formation and even_on pov.erty represent the natural and expected evo-lution of a process already on the way since the 31st General Congrega-tion ~(1965). To a great extent; they simply develop and complement what was already expressed in that congregation. On the. other har~d, the decree on "Our Mission Today: the Service of Faith and ~he Promotion of Justice" marks a relatively new development and poses~.a new.challenge. Its influence is felt in all the,bther major documents of the~32nd~General Congregation; it gives them their apostolic motivation and orientation and thus conditions their fruitful interiorization and effective implementation. ~The decree on faith and justice, how6ver, has also becon]e-6ne of~ the most controversial pronouncements Of the last Jesuit congregation find it will ~,probably be one of the most difficult to implement. On the,one side, it is true that, in spite of its long ,and laborious genesis and° its obvious defects of form, the~decree was finally approved by an overwhelming majority. It can also be said, one year after its promulgation; that the decree has been gen.erally well accepted by most Jesuits. On the other side, how.ever, it~:is also true that not a few have received it with mixed fe~lings and reservations. Some ffonder about the scope and universal applicability of" the.decree for the ,Jesuit apostolate. Doubts have.also arisen about the precise meaning of justice ,an~l of the inter-relationship b~tween faith and justice in the ,context of the decree: Others feel that, the "specific contribu-tion of priests and religious to the promotion of justice should be further clarified. _ It is also a ~fact that the longest and most "substantial" remarks of the Holy, See concerning the congregation's documents, were aimed at this decree in particular.-A few have'even said that the Holy See's observa-tions have greatly.~ weakened the decree's thrust, if not crippled it al-together. . . It is myoview that, in spit6 of all these difficulties, the d6cree keeps all its basic strength and importance. It presents today for the Society of Jesus a big challenge and a unique apostolic opportunity. Perhaps like none Other, the decree on "Our Missiofi Today" can help Jesuits td'rediscover again, in:a new light,,what it means to be an apostle, a religious and a priest ifi the, modern world: It can help infuse~ new" vitality and dynamism into an aging and shrinking international organism. It can strengthen the union of all-Jesuits around a common apostolic ideal whbse"relevance and actuality appe.ar today with renewed clarity~ ° The criticism, reservations 'and evefi fears that the decree has aroused can be explained partly becau~se of its all embracing nature, partly because of some obscurities and difficulties of interpretation to which the text some-times lends itself. In this context, the remarks'made by the Holy See, though perhaps not absolutely ~necessary, can ~ greatly h61p to dispel some of~these fea'rs, and reservations. They can help i-eveal better ttie basis on which the potential of the decree for a profound religious and apostolic re-newal~ ultimately rests. However, we have also to admit that a decree that 340 / Review .]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 demands from every individual Jesuit and from every Jesuit community and apos.tolic work .a reassessm(nt in depth of their own, basic orientation in the light of the service of faith .and the ,promo.tion of justice~ was bound,to cause some uneasiness, set in motion defense mechanisms and even pro-voke negative reactions. The earlier 31st General Congregation recognized that, in order totface ,new needs and-conditions, the entire,.Jesuit,~tpost01ate had to be thoroughly :rethought and r~vised:~But while some channels and structures were prd-posed for. that revision, there was no clear ~ttempt at providing the overall criteria ands.objectives that should inspireoand guide it. ,A general sociological survey of the Society of Jesus that was launched by Fr. Arrupe towards the end of.1965, shortly after the 31st General°Con-gregation, provided.some apostolic guidelines and objectives and also con-tributed to develop some mechanisms of response to new needs. But itS; out-come was very, uneven and its best achievements-remained at the level of some provinces or regtons. There was no serious attempt, therefore, to ap-ply its conclusions, in terms.of some general policy guidelines¢.to the whole Society. This explains why, except for those .provinces or regions in which a considerable effort owas made to" determine general ~ind corporate apos-tolic objectives in the light of the survey findings,'the ov~erall pattern~"of apostolic worl(s and ministries in the Society of Jesus underwent relatively few changes from 1965 to. 1975. - o During;the.se years, however, under the ,leadership of Fr. Arrupe, .a good deal was done to give some new direction and contents to,the J~suit apostolate and to,emphasize some of the dimensions that~ should distinguish it as a whole, independently from the particular works or meahs through which it was to be carried out. This was specially true of the comriiitment to bring about a more human and just society,,which'was more"and .more presented not so much as a separate sector of activity, but rather as a dir~eri~ sion that should mark all Jesuit life and apostolic work. This led to a more interdisciplinary, "intersectorial" and integrated apostolic approach. It also contributed to give to the Jesuit apostolate a new sensb,oof direction, an '~identity" that had been somewhat, obscured and weakened~'during a period of rapid change. It also prepared the ground for the decree of the 32nd General Congregation on."Our Mission Today." ~ Unlike previous congregations, the 32nd did not issue b~ief and separate decrees restating the importance of the major~apostolates;,old or new, in which Jesuit.s are or should be engaged: missionary activity,.education, ecu-menism, pastoral action, scientific apostolate, artistic endeavors, social in-volvement, mass. media, and so forth. The brief references in the decree on "'Our Mission Today" to theological reflection, "conscientization" according to the Gospel, education and modern media of social communication, were to emphasize the level at which Jesuits should work, their main role as "educators" and the instruments that they should use in their apostolate iri Faith and Justice / 341 order to have thewidest possible, influence, rather than to single out spe-cific works, institutions or sectors of activity in'which they should engage: The main apostolic concern of the last Jesuit congregation was to define what should be the.~corporate mission of Jesuits today, whether they work in Jesuit controlled institutions or not, alone or in collaboration with others. Not only should whatever Jesuits are already doing contribute, more~or less directly or explicitly, to reconcile men with God and with each other, to serve the faith and to promote justice; but today Jesuits should preferably do what is more conducive to th~ attainment of,,those objectives. The Service:' of' Faith" " The mission we are called to share is the mission of the Church herself: to make known.to men the love of God our Father, to bring to our fellow-~ men the omessage of-salvation, to work that they may have life, and have it to the full.~ The decree does not hesitate to reaffirm, with different words and. expressions, the basic religious and supernatural nature of the Society's mission: the service of faith, the task of evangelization.'~ It is because we are commit~ted to the service of faith, that we are also called, always, but par-ticularly today, to promote love and justice among men, as one of. faith's main and more basic requirements: "The mission 'of the Society of Jesus today is the service of, faith,, of which the promotion of iustice is an abso-lute requirement. This is so because the reconciliation of men among them-selves, which their reconciliation with God demands, must be based on ius-tice."~, For many,- however, the specific contributioh of the decree on "Our Mission Today" still remains in having officially proposed the promotion of justice as the main apostolic objective for the Society of Jesus today3 though, it is true, side by side with the service ~of. faith and inseparably connected with it. The service, of faith would be affirmed simply as a pre-condition for that promotion. The fact that the very text of the decreetalks more 6ften of justice than of faith and that,what is said of faith is rather incomplete and far from being an exhaustiv~ presentation of all the demands of faith for religious life and apostolate, would seem to confirm this view. This explains why .in some regions and for some Jesuits the decree has become known as "the decree on the promotion of justice" or simply "the justice document." Its title has gradually undergone small but important modifica-tions. The mission of the Society of Jesus today would be defined no longer as "the service of faith and the,' promotion of justice," but ~rather as "the service of faith in or through the promotion of justice," or "the service of faith ]or the promotion of justice." It should be recalled that the promotion of justice was not the top prior- 4"Our Mission Today," n. 13. ~lbid., nn. I1, 13, 14, 18, 24-26, 51, 52, 55. 61bid., n. 2. 342 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 ity chosen by the General Congregation for its work and that the document was ttie~outcome of the combined effort of three different commissions, only one of which dealt with the justice question. The others were con-cerned with the apostolic mission of the Society in general and with the criteria that should guide Jesuits in their apostolate: questions to which the congregation had assigned a higher priority than to that of the promotion of justice. The call of the 32nd General.Congregation to the serx~ice of faith is not Simply a reminder of the primary and fundamental Jesuit.apostolic mission, nor the mere statement of a premise from which to draw later the concl~u-sion that the promotion of justice is a necessary dimension of the Jesuit apostolate 'today. The congregation wants to emphasize that in the light of today's conditions, of the needs and aspirations of the men of our time, the service of faith not only keeps its primary importance~ but that its .absolute need is today even more strongly felt. The diagnosis that "the congregation makes of the apostolic needs of the contemporary world is not formulated only ,or primarily in terms of justice: The fact that today "more than two billion human beings have no knowledge of God the Father and JeSus Christ whom He has sent''T and that "many of our contemporaries, dazzled and even dominated .by the achieve-ments of the~human mind, have either forgotten or rejected the mystery of man's ultimate meaning, and thus have lost the sense of God''s constitute for the' congregation, new challenges to the Society's apostolic mission. These challenges not only condition our efforts for more human and just relations amo.ng men,~' but have for us a value of~their own, 'because "people today are, somehow aware ~that their problems are not just social and technological~ but personal and spiritual. They have a feeling that what is at stake here~is the very meaning of man,: his destiny and future. Men are hungry: but hungry not.just for bread, ~but'for the word of God~TM The fact that today the.~service of faith has to face new demands, new situations, new cultural contexts, which will put to the test not only our religious dedication, but all our resources and creativity11 does not diminish in any way the need for that service, but ,on the contrary emphasizes it: ". the goSpel,.should be preached with a fresh yigour, for it is in a posi-tion once again ,to make itself heard. At first sight, God seems to have no place,today ih public life, nor even in private awareness. Yet everywhere, if we only knew.how to look at it, we can see that menare searching for an experienCe of Christ and of his kingdom of justice, love and peace.''~-~ rlbid., n. 4. Slbid., n. 5. °lbid., n. 27. aOlbid., n. 21. lalbid., nn. 24-26. r'lbid., n. 21. Faith and Justice / 343 The realization that today there is a L"new need" for the service of faith, by itself and also because of the ethical and religious roots of many of today's problems, is expressed in the decree with,an insistence, which some might° find even. exaggerated, on the need to "evangelize," to lead.men gradually to the acceptance of God and:of his salvation in C.hrist, wherever° we may be and through whatever apostolates, or ministries we might-be, called to exercise_, including social ministries and the promotion of justice itself.13 ¯ It is evident that the conviction about the need for a renewed service of the faith in contemporary society; if it has to inspire and guide effectively all our apostolic efforts, cannot be the o.utcome of a mere sociological sur-vey or scientific analysis of today's needs and aspirations. It has to grow out of a personal and-lived experience of the enriching and liberating role that faith plays in our own lives, in the lives of the groups and communities in which we !iv.e. To think that we can commit~ourselves to the service-of faith, without first realizing that we ourselves stand in need of being evan-gelized and of knowing how to meet Christ as he works in the world through the power of His Spirit,'" is an illusion. The Promotion of Justice Those acquainted with the text of the Synod of Bishops of 1971, "Jus-tice in the World," w0u_ld ,recognize some of the arguments that led the Jesuit General Congregation to propose the promotion of justice as one of the primary apostolic objectives for the Society of Jesus today. In some re-spects, however, the treatment of, jus._tice in the decree is less qomplete than that found in4he synodal text. The decree attempted to bring together into one single document the two basic dimensions of the Society's.mission to-day, while trying at the same time .to draw some conclusions and provide some directives for. Jesuit religious life and apostolic activities. The far reaching implications and consequences, both for the service of faith and the promotion of justice, of integrating into a unified and coherent whole dimensions that often had developed too much along parallel lines, are evident. The synthesis, however, reflects the vicissitudes of its long elabora-tion and is still far from being perfect and complete. It is in the light of the gospel, of the Church's magisterium, and 6f the Ignatian charism and vocation, thatthe General Congregation, faced with a ' world marked by deep and widespyead inequalities and injustices, at the na-tional and international level, commits the Society of Jesus to the promotion of justice. . This commitment, as previously statdd, flows from the very nature of the Society's apostolic mission, of a service of a faith that works through lalbid., nn. 11, 27, 33, 50-55. 141bid., n. 23. 344,/ Review [or, Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 love: a'love that cannot become reality without justice.,~ "The injustice that racks our World in so many forms is, in fact, a denial of God in practice, for it denies the ttignity of man" man, the image of God; man the brother of Christ.''''; The establishment of God's kingdom kingdom of love, justice and peace--begins already now, ~in this world. Christian hope and,salva-lion are a gratuitous gift from God, but also an invitation to work effec-tively for the transformation of the world, to make it more human and just.~r It is the wish to be faithful to the essential Jesuit mission, "as expressed in the Formula of the Institute, approved by.Paul Ili' and Julius II!, that prompted the congregation to propose the promotion of .justice as one of the prtmary a~ms of the Jesmt apostolate.'" For Ignatius~the service of faith had to be exercised both through the preaching of the Word and by works of charity andof reconcili~ition, by the assistance to those in greater need, like "those qvho are found in prisons and hospitals." Ignatius himself vited-Jesuits to interpret this in the. light of "what will seem expedient for the glory of God and the common good." This the decree has done and, following the lead of Paul VI in his inaugural address to the 32rid General Congregation, has seen in the sick and in the prisoners of Ignatius' time, tho. se living "on the margins of society" today: the poor and the de- ~ prtved, the victims of injustice and oppression. To the many encyclical letters and other documents of the magisterium Which support the congregation's stand on~ the question of justice anti with which the' readers of these pages are. undoubtedly Well acquainted--we should add the recent apostolic exhortation, Evangelii Nuntiandi, in which Paul VI repeatedly reasserts the intimate relationship between e'vangeliza-tion and the promotion of justice. In one passage of 'this most important document, the Holy Father gives us, in a remarkable synthesis, qhe main reasons which link together these two dimensions of our apostolic mission: Between evangelization and human advancem~nt--d~ve!opme~t .and libera-tion- there are in fact profound links. These include lihks of an finthro-po~ ogical order, because the man who is to be evangelize'd is ndt an abstract being but,is subject to social and economic questions. They also include links to the theological order, since one cannot dissociate the pla6 of creation from the plan of Redemption. The latter plan touches the very concrete situations of injustice to be combated and of justice to be restored. They.in-clude links of the eminently evangelical order, which is that of charity: how in fact can one proclaim the new commandment without promoting in justice and in peace the true~ authentic advancement of man? We our, selves have taken care to point this out, by recalling that it is impossible to accept "that in evangelization one could, or should ignore the importance of the problems ~r'lbid., nn. 2, 18, 2.7, 2,8. ~C'Ibid., n. 29. arlbid., nn. 30, 31, 40, 41. ~Slbid., n. 17. Faith and Justice ~/ 345 so much discussed today, concerning justice, liberation, development and peace in this world. This would be to forget the lesson which comes to us from the gospel concerning love of our neighbor who is suffering and in need."r~ Confronted with all these arguments of an evangelical, theological and doctrinal order, it is.hard to understand the difficulties some have expressed regarding the relationships between faith .and justice and the .very notion of justice as found in thedecree. There is need, as we shall see, for placing the promotion of justice in the proper theological and pastoral context and for defining clearly what is the specific contribution of priests and religious to that promotion. But that in the world of today the promotion of justice constitutes a primary apostolic c~bjective and conditions greatly the ~redibil-ity and apostolic effectiveness of the Church's mission, seems a fact beyond all question. Some have remarked that, justice, which is so often mentioned, is never clearly defined in the text. What does the decree mean by justice, they ask? This question sounds a bit like the "quid est veritas" of the gospel." Lik'd the Synod of 1971, the Jesuit General Congregation did not want to enter into a scholastic definition of justice, with all its divisions and subdivisions. But to concltide from ,~this that the General Congregation, or for that matter the Synod of Bishops. and so many other documents of .the magisterium, dd not know what they are talking about when they propose the promotion of justice as a necessary requirement of our apostolic mis-sion, would border on cynicism. ~ This being said, we have to admit that the document sometimes gives the,!mpression of talking mainly~ about inequalities and injustices of a socio, economic order, as though justice were merely a problem of a more equal distribution of the world's material., wealth and resources. On the other. hand, .it is hard to ignore the fact that the very unequal distribution not onlyof material goods, but als~ of~the power a.nd responsibility for ad-ministering them, constitutes today one of the major felt injustices of our s~ciety and deeply affects the lives the,freedom and dignity---of a large majority of mankind. But the congregation speaks also of other injustices: racial, social, political. Religious oppression, however, does not seem to-evoke any, clear echo in the document. The presence in the congregation of Jesuits working in regions where religious rights are openly violated and the fear of possible retaliatory measures, might explain this silence and reserve, which, 9therwise, would be difficult to understand. Rather than defining justice, the decree describes it. It also enumerates the gospel demands in the justice field: "The gospel demands a life free from egoism and self-Seeking and from all attempt to exploit one's fellow-men. It demands a life in which the justice of the gospel shines out in a willing-laEvangelii Nuntiandi, n. 31. 346 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 hess not only to recognize and respect the rights of all, especially the poor and the powerless, but also to work aciively to secure those rights. It de-mands an openness and generosity to one's neighbor v~henever he is in need, even if he is alienated or hostile, in a spirit of forgiveness that over-comes all enmity.'''-'° Since th6 concept of-justice in the decree is more evangelical than legal or philosophical, one can understand why justice and poverty appear so closely inter-related in the text and why, also in the name Of justice, the poor and the deprived should become the main objects of our attention, the privileged beneficiaries of our apostolic efforts. Independently from any law or human contract, the poor have a right to a fair share of God's gifts, of' the world's riches, and to have a say in all decisions concerning their individual and'collective existence. Those individuals and structures that ignore their plight and keep them in their situation of poverty and depriva-tion are simply unjust. This is very much in the gospel and patristic tradi-tion: charity is,,the source of justice, its necessary complement and fulfill-ment; the goods of the earth belong to all, particularl3~ to the poor, and those'who happen to possess them are merely their'administrators. It is in this context that we have to interpret Augu'stine's definition of justice: "Iustitia est in subveniendis miseris." To give to the poor, to be with them in their difficulties, may be an act of charity, but it is also an act of justice, the payment of a debt. Faith and Sustice - "There can be nb promotion of justice in the full and Christian sense unless we also preach~ Jesus Christ and the mystery of reconciliation he brings. For us, it is Christ who, in the last analysis, opens the way to the complete and definitive liberation of men.'''-'1 Similarly, there is no true preaching of Christ, no effective proclama-tion of his gospel, unless a firm decision is taken to promote love of neigh-bor and justice, which are the necessary consequences of a true love of God, of a faith that works through the love of men.2-° The decree not only points to a complementarity between the service of faith and the promotion of justice, but also to the fact tl~at ~many of the root-causes of contemporary unbelief and atheism are the same as those of tc~day,'s widespread injustice. The barriers, the "idols," that block man's access to God greed, ambition, selfishness and pride are also those that "close" him to the needs and to the rights of his fellow-m.en. The liberating message of Christ--which, for those who want to excel in his service, is described by'St. Ignatius in his m6ditation 6f "The Two Standards"--attacks 20"Our Mission Today," n. 18. 211bid., n. 27. 221bid., nn. 27-28. Faith and Justice / 347 at its deepest roots not only atheism, but also injustice in all its manifesta-tions: it opens,man's heart to God and' also t.o others. ~ In the ligh~ of this decree, the mission to combat the many forms of con-" temporary unbelief and atheism--a mission entrusted to the Society of Jesus by the Holy Father.on the occasion of the 31st General Congregation appears in all its individual and collective, religious and social ,dimensions, and presents itself, under the aspects of the service of faith and the promo-tion of justice, as an eminently positive and liberating task that can give unity and coherence to the Society's apostolate.::~;, However--and the decree acknowledges it faith implies much more than human justice alone and the deep causes and consequence.s of unbe-lief cannot always be reduced to the social level. ,The liberation that,faith brings "cannot be contained in the simple and restricted dimension of eco~ nomics, politics, social and cultural life; it must envtsage the whole man . . . right up to and including openness to the absolute, even the divine Abso-lute; itjs therefore attached to a certain concept of man, to a view of man which it. can never sacrifice to the needs of any strategy, ~practice or short-term efficiency.'"-'" Not all service of faith should always arid necessarily lead to.,the pro-motion- of justice as its explicit and immediate objective. But it shohld at least remain open to that social dimension. It should be exercised in such a .way and in such a context that justice is in no way compromised. If it does not contribute directly to the promotion of brotherly love and of jus-tice, it should .at least prepare the ground for it. From the point of view of justice and taking into account the concrete context ofoone's own ~life and apostolate; there are very few activities that can be. called "neutral" today. In its observations about the decree "Our Mission Today," the Holy See had this to say: "The promotion of justice is unquestionably ,connected with evangel!zation, but as the Holy Father said in his closing remarks to the last Synod 9f Bishops in October of 1974--~'Human development'and social progress in~.the temporal ., order should not be extolled qn such ex-aggerated terms as to obscure the essential significance which the Church attributes to evangelization and the proclamation of the full gospel.'"~n Though, in our opinion, the decree clearly avoids this danger, granted some of the interpretations given to it, it is nol superfluous to emphasize that faith can never,be reduced to ~the promotion of justice alone. Christian liberation is incomplete if it neglects to proclaim salvation in,Jesus Christ.~'~ Does human liberation or the promotion of justice, in the economic, so-cial, political and cultural fields, constitute always a service of faith? The "albid., n. 19." °-4Evangelii Nuntiandi, n. 33; cf. also "Our Miss~ion Today," nn. 27-28. ":'Letter of Card. Villot to Fr. Arrupe of May 2, 1975. See REviEw FOa REL~OtrS. 35 [1976] pp. 33-45. "-'~Evangelii Nuntiandi, n. 34. 348 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3" decree is not so clear and explicit about this, because when it refers to liber-ation and justice, it is usually o"in' the full'and Christian sense" of these ¯ terms. But by placing .the promotion of justice in a ]aith context, the Gen-era[ Congregation ~of the Society of, Jesus has reminded Jesuits that for a Christian the promotion of justice is a much more demanding task than for an atheist or for a non-Christian. It is evident that "not every notion of' liberation is necessarily consistent and compatible with an evangelical vision of man, of things and of events.''-'~ If the promotion of justice is to be ,a service of faith, it should.fulfill cer-tain~ conditions regarding the motives and the inspiration that impel us to seek that.promotion, regarding the way in which the promotion is carried out, and also regarding the objectives that we want to achieve: these should never exclude, and should always remain open to,,the transcendent dimen-sion that faith implies: ". the Church has the firm conviction that all temporal liberation, all political liberation-~even if it endeavors to find its justification in such or such page of the Old or New Testament, even if it claims for itsideological postulates and its norms of action theological data and conclusions, even if it pretends to be today's theology--carries within itself the germ of its own negation and fails to reach the ideal that it proposes for itself, when-ever its profound motives are not those of justice in charity, whenever its zeal lacks a truly spiritual dimension and whenever its final goal is not salvation and happiness in.God.''~s In various passages of the decree it is emphasized that'even ,if we fight for the.rights of men in the name of justice, love should always be our driv-ing andosustaining force. Besides: ". if the promotion of justice is to obtain its ultimate end, it should be carried out in such'a way as to bring man to desire and welcome the eschatological freedom and salvation' offered to us by God ,in Christ. The methods we employ, the actigities we under-take, should express, the spirit of the Beatitudes, and bring man to areal reconciliation. In this way the promotion of justice will show forth the Spirit and. the power of God. It will respond to man's deepest heeds: not just for bread, not just for freedom, but for God who is love, and who loves all men as sons.'''-'~' In the decree, to promote justice, to proclaim, the faith and to lead men to a personal encounter with Christ, these'are not three separate realities to which correspond three .separate apostolates, but rather three dimensions that should characterize the entire apostolic effort of the Society of Jesus today.:"' We should add that, in order to promote justice in a context of faith, it is not enough that faith and justice should be well integrated at the "-'Zlbid., n. 35. z:~"Our Mission Today," n. 33. , .~Olbid., n. 51. Faith and Justice / 349 theological and pastoral levbl, but also and mainly in the lives of those who [gromote it. " ° The Role. of Religious - What has been-shid so far provides a basis for what should be the spe-cific, Christian'contribution to the promotion of justice. Most of the prin-" ci[~les that~ have been enunciated apply not only to priests and to religious, but to all Christians. They represent the ethos that should~'inspire man's efforts towards a more'0human and just society, but they'do not tell" us what~those efforts should~ be. From that ethos to the °just communities, in.- stitutions and structures .that make up a just society; there is a long way to go. Christian inspired principl.es and values have to be incarnated into '~'a way of life," at~the individual and at the collective level. They have to b~ translhted into overall policies and concreteprogralns of action. Thisqs a task for which, besides Christiaia dedication, direct involvement in the eco-nomic, social, political~anff cultural fi61ds, technical knowledge and exper: tise are absolutely required. It is the primary, and specific task of lay peo-ple' whd~e particular v.ocation: places them in the midst of~the;world~and calls them to.renew, in faith and iffjustice, the temporal order ~The role o~f- the Church is rriainly one of inspiring, forming, supporting and ~guid~ng men~qn their struggle to build a ~world at,,once more human arid divine2: Th~ Holy See reminds Jesuits that this is even more true in their casi~, since,~they belong to '~ano institute "which is religious, not secular, and "' ~Besides th~ proclamation of the gospel message of justice, and the proph~etic'deffunciation of injustices tasks which°religious, like other Chris-tihns, hre~also, called to exercise there are functions that re~ligi6us seem to be"~ particularly equipped to carry out. The General Congregation of. the Society of Jesus mentions some of these: e.g., t~heologic.al reflection, "con-s¢ ientization" and education for justice, and the service of,the poor and e, Theological and doctrinal reflection on the main, problems of our day is~ a necessary prerequisite for any effectiqe-and" lasting pastoral action in the justice field¯'This reflection, conducted in the light of faith and "in a context ~which is both interdisciplinary and genUinely integrated with 'the culture iia" which it is done," ,will help to give greater' meaning and depth to whi~t we say or do in.favor Of justice; it will" also guide men in their search 'for, just'sol6tions to the vast and difficult problem~ that. confront them today. Thanks to this 'reflection we shall be able to exercise a critical and. liberating function regarding, the all-embracing ideologies and political systems which often tend to divide and enslave our contemporary world¯ :~Letter of Card. Viliot to Father Arrupe. :~""Our Mission TQday," n. 60. 350 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 ~o This reflection should also inspire all our efforts to educate men in faith and for justice: "men for others. , . persons whose lively faith impels them to seek and find Christ in the service of their fellow-men." Besides, in a world where the power of economic, social and p61itical structures and their vfist and deep impact on,the life of individuals and groups is recognized by all, "greater emphasis should be placed in our apQstolate on the con-scientization according to the gospel of those~,who have the power to bring about social chan~e?''~:' ','A commitment to the men and women who live.~,a life of hardship and who are the victims of oppression cannot be that of a few Jesuits only. It should be a characteristic of the life of all of us as individuals, and a char-acteristic of.our communiti'es and institutions as.well,v:'' Though not all re-ligious can share closely tlie lot of the poor and~of the oppressed,-the num-ber of ,those that experience more directly what it means to be poor, should certainly increase. Even if the poor are not always the immediate benefici-aries of our apostolic efforts, it should be clear to everybody~ that they con-stitute one of'our primary concerns. ~But "above all the gospel must.be proclaimed by witness.'':'~ "The first means of evangelization is the witness of an authentically Christian life. . It .is . . . primarily by her conduct.and, by her life that the Church will evangelize the world, in other words, by her living witness of fidelity to the Lord Jesus--the witness of poverty and detachment, of freedom in the_ face of the powers of this world, in short, the witness of san.ctity.":" If this is true of the whole Church, how much more of religious. Their most spe? cific contribution still remains that of bearing witness to faith'and to justic~ through the example of their,own lives.~They should embo~dy the radical demand~ of the~Beatitudes. They should be a sign, for the,world and for,the Church, of the total openness and. availability to God and to men that faith and justice demandY. It is through their tireless apostolic dediqation, but also by their faith-" fulness to the demands of their religious vows and consecrated life that this is mainly achieved. In a world in which the attachment to wealth and ma-terial comforts, man's selfishness and ambition appear as the'main roots of unbelief andfinjustice, the meaning and liberating pgwer of the religiou~ life appears in a. new light. The women and the men who, have chosen to, fol-low Christ i,n~his,great, renunciations, perpetuate his redeeming and liberat-ing work through the ages by preaching the gospel not by words alone; but by the witness :of their own lives: "It is in this.olight, that we.are asked to renew our dedication to the properly apostolic dimension, of.our .religious :~Zlbid.; n. 60. .~41bid., n. 48. "~Evangelii Nuntiandi, n. 21. at'Ibid., n. 41. Z7lbid., n. 69. Eaith and Justice~/ life. Ou~ consecration t6 God is really a rejection of those idols which the world is always tempted to adore: wealth, pleasure, prestige, power. Our chastity, poverty and obedience must bear witness to this visibly, Despite the inadequacy of our attempts to anticipate the kingdom which is to come, our vows ought to show how it is possible in practice, through the gospel and by God's grace, to have a community of men which is based on sharing rather than greed; on a willing openness to all men rather than a seeking after the privileges of caste or class or race; on service rather than domina-tion and exploitation. The men and women of our time fleed a hope which is eschatological; but they also need to have the beginnings of its realization presented to them here and now in a way that is meaningful to {hem.'':~s 3s"Our .Mission Today," n. 16. Faith and Justice: Reflection C~trl F. ~tarkloff, 'S.J. A Socio-Pastoral Father Starkloff's studies concentrated in the areas of missi~logy and pastoral theology (Ph.D., S.T.D., Ottawa), while his interest has focused on the American Indian. After six years of teaching theology at Rockhurst College, Fr. Starkloff, author of People o] the Center (Seabury, 1974) and of various articles on American Indian .religion and religious anthropology, is presently director of St. Stephens Indian Mission; P.O. Box 294; St. Stephens, WY 82524. The most pronounced thrust of Christian theology in the seventies has been a Ioiag overdue attempt to respond tO the Marxist thesis that, while the philosophers are trying to explain the world, the real task is to change it. In this famous dictum are stated the two poles that bound the work of theological reflection--theoria and praxis. From the highly speculative and' cloistered theology of the middle ages to the nineteenth century social gos-pelt theologians have tended to gravitate to the two poles separately rather than to embrace them together. It is to the great credit of the various "hope," "political" and "liberation" theologies that they are making this attempt at synthesis. When the recent Thirty-Second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus cast its mission statement in the mold of "the service of faith and the promotion of justice," this was not merely a re-focusing of the Jesuit voca-tion upon a unified spiritual world view touching both intellectual and prac-tical issues. More important, the statement sent Jesuits the world over into varying states of agony as they seriously set about confronting such very real and threatening documents. As may be expected, along with the con-frontation came many kinds of affective and speculative responses,-from 352 Faith and Justice." A Socio.Pastoral¯ Re[tection / 353 angry rejection to a perhaps naive embracing of the letter of the new law: The most~spirited discussion has taken place, at least in North America, in the academic milieu, while many of the mission apostolates--for example those branching out from the United States into Central and South Amer-ica are already caught ,up in efforts to live the gospel within the social and political struggles of the people. The academic debate (radical, activists to the contrary notwithst~anding) is essential to, prevent our ministry of justice from being a mindless lashing out at "evil in general." But the debate alone will remain barren ~--even for the academic .world. , What liberation theologians remind us is that there must be a social-pastoral "doing" in a context of thebretical inquir.y, .if theology is to be reflection on the lived faith of the community. In the academic community 4 found that the confrontation with the "single focus" approach to faith and justice led to a great deal of con-fusion, ranging Yrom highly theoretical arguments about definitions to de-bates about the morality of multi-national corporations. All of us must ob-viously share 'this confusion in wrestling with the problems of faith and justice, but it seems evident that we must transcend.the academic world if we are to advance the study creatively, because theology° is now finding it-self face to face with radically practical demands. What. we see here. is per-haps a new version of the old reminder,to theol.ogians to spend, less time at the desk (theory) and more time at the prie-dieu o(practice), only now with the contemplation of social evils being integral toJ our meditations. -Since returning to the radically pastoral ministry to. Native Americans, have realized how intense must be the struggle to synthesize our reflection., our prayer and our pastoral activity. It is out of this experience that I offer the following brief reflections, touching upon the need to understand "faith" as it is culturally expressed, and "justice" (a stumbling block to philosophers, legists and Scripture scholars alike) as the great longing of'~the deprived. In this article I shall offer one example of how the pastoral scene chal-lengers its workers to enrich the world of theology through their closeness .to the problems that.cry for solution. In taking this rather pragmatic ap-p. roach, I shah simply bypass much of the termino!ogica[ argum'6nt and sqt~tle provisionally for rather simple definitions of faith-evangelization and of iustice. By "faith" and ~'evangelization" let us understand'the real assent to being grasped and freed by Jesus Christ and proclaiming this event to our fellows.' By "justice" 1,intend the building of a more humane existence for men and women as we await the Kingdom of God. That Christ,~has come is shown in the Church's givi0g of social signs of the messianic presence. That he has not come definitively is painfully evident from the dismaying ex-perience of injustice all around us. Failh In our ministry among the Arapaho and Shoshone Indians, we have 354 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 found ourselves a testing-ground for our commitment to faith and justice. The constantly pressing demands force us to Work with. "inadequate" con-cepts as ,models, as we move toward the definition of mission goals and objectives. The narrative of our efforts may' perhaps serve others as a model, not of solutions, which are far distant for us, but of the kinds of analysis and activity that must be part of a socio-pastoral situation~ It should be added that, in Native American societies, as in all groups still close to their primal origins, the social-and the pastoral, religion and society, faith and culture are so intimately interwoven that in many cases the struggle for justice is an essential part of the upbuilding of faith, and the nourishing of authentic religious expression is one of the basic problems of justice. In order not to give way to frustration, the worker in many an Indian harvest field must admit that his labor of evangelization is still in its child-hood and that the signs of faith are ,going to be fragmentary. Much of this is due to the centuries of evangelization without inculturation practiced throughout North America. Much of it may also be attributed to the terrible social shocks of the conquest of the frontier, to the perfidy of whites in their dealings °with Indians, and to the frequent ridicule heaped upon the many authentic sign~ of God's presence in Native American culture, even by missionaries. A case in point might be the example of many of the Aymara people of Peru, whose religious life has been described by a de-voted and sympathetic missionary as retaining many elements that work counter to the basic gospel message, even though they have adopted Catholic rites and symbols quite extensively over the four-hundred-year period of the conquest.' If Monast's claims are true (and there are no doubt other missionaries who will disagree with him), they would be a case in point for painstaking examination, of both the cultural presupposi-tions of church ~vorkers among Indian peoples, and for the effectiveness of the means of communicating the gospel. The failure of early missionaries to communicate with the local culture, coupled with forced conversion, created this resigned acceptance by Indians of foreign signs and rituals, without rendering these signs effective symbols of the merciful and loving God. To varying degrees, on most Indian reservations in North America, one can find less extreme examples of' the Aymara experience, alongside many beautiful manifestations of Christian and Native American devotion. It is evident how complicated the problem of Christianity and culture really is, especially in cultures that must be described as living o{~ the mar-gin between' the ancient and the modern. Among Native Americans, the process calls for careful reflection and careful praxis; To be avoided at all costs is any naive movement to "adapt" Christian rites to' Indian culture, where the result would be a shallow syncretism whose components~ would 1See J. E. Monast; O.M.I., On les croyait chretiennes, Paris~ Editions du Cerf, 1969. Faith and Justice." A Socio-Pastoral Reflection / 355, be understood as' neither truly Indian nor truly Christian. Indian people sustained devastating culture shocks .as their religious expression underwent suppression by church and government leaders. An almost equally profound shock has come to many devout Christian Indians as missionaries sud-denly show themselves receptive to long-interdicted rites like the Sun Dance, Sweat Lodge, Peyote Tipi, Medicine Lodges, Harvest Festivals, and the like. The rapid about-face of so many church leaders vis-a-vis Indian religion, ~is well as of educators in relation to Indian language, is a source of some-what grim amusement to the old Indians who remember their boarding school days. Clearly, what is needed is a contemporary Indian Christianity. A return to the past is impossible, and yet the many beautiful traditions of the past are still available to nourish a genuine Indian faith life. Reflection and pastoral practice will have to concentrate both on the negative an~ positive aspects of Christian proclamation, as well as on the signs and countersigns present in Indian tradition. On the side of white missionaries there must be discernment of their preaching: where is it truly of Christ and his Church, and where is it merely of their European-American 6ul-tural impedimenta? A glib statement, this, because by this time the cultures have become so intermingled that clear separation is out of the question. I have .experienced a number of pastoral situations in which what I have tried to convince a Catholic.Indian is merely the "white American cultural symbol" is now truly part and parcel'of his or her worship. In our liturgies and homilies too, we find it necessary to use caution in "adaptation." For example, a facile attempt to pray with the Sacred Pipe or one of its derivatives, or to pray in the name of the Four Sacred Direc-tions, or too readily to equate "power" with "grace," will lead not only to a misuse of Indian rites and language, and thus to'contempt, but may also distort the Christian message by a too easy comparison. New chapters in the phenomenology and history of religion, added to the great work of scholars like Eliade and van der Leeuw, will have to'be written to enable pastors to employ with confidence the many native symbols that may seem fitted to Christian liturgy and catechesis. Such development (zalls for long and patient listening to the old i'eligious leaders, to whom imparting in-formation to outsiders does not come easily. In our desire to "inculturate" the gospel, further, we must also realize that contemporary0Indian culture, as mentioned.earlier, is a "wounded" culture more wounded even than many of the cultures with which the Church's pastoral ministry must deal. Even more than in its primal form, Indian life now needs the healing power of the gospel. For example, while many native 'rituals are truly profound signs of faith, they often seem to have no more permanent effect on life than do many of our Christian rituals. In the~missionary-social ministry, the word "interiorization" o[ the Good, News is as important as "inculturation." 356,/ Re.view for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 Thus we come to the most basic requirement of a pastoral ministry the spiritual life of the apostolic community. Into the damaged culture of the Indian people the Christian .ministers have chosen to insert their own wounded lives, and here it is that we cross over into the matter of justice as the necessary component of faith and proclamation, of the sign of a living community of teaching, fellowship and service. We find that we must live with these people the struggles of material and psychological uncer-tainty, an.d experience the pain involved in bringing a people into~com-munity. This insecurity is intensified as we find t.hat f_or so many Indians, especially youth, there is little intense concern for religion--Indian or Christianwor'for moral rudders to guide by. But we likewise feel that it is the vocation of the Church to aid in restoring the vital~ elements of Indian religion to their rightful place, if not within Christian liturgical settings,, then in events occurring alongside tra-ditional Christian practices, confidently, experienced by Indians who are also. Christians. With~ the grad.ual opening up of the tribal holy men so long driven into a nearly underground .religious activity, we find that we can be6ome instructed by attendance.at Indian rites and by judicious participa-tion in.them. Thus the pastor may find it possible to aid an Indian in religious and moral growth by encouraging him or her to more devout involvement ,.in traditional native rituals, often intermingled with sound Christian teaching, or paralleling it. Employment of Indian music, language and religious leaders at Christian sacramental events, especially funerals, has enriched the exp.erienc~s of Indians and pastors and educators. Homi-letic usage of Indian mythology often renders a basic Christian truth more comprehensible for an Indian congregation not to say for whites present as well. In considering an authentic form of Indian Christian ministry, we have begun to question,., the advisability of an Indian diaconate for Arapaho Catholics. We are discovering in the loosely defined but immensely impor-tant role of tribal elder a possible indigenous mimstry of instruction and sacramental worship that might more effectively speak to the culture with-out creating rthe tensions involved in calling Indians to become leaders under an imported rubric. A recent example of this was a, day of recollec-tion given to confirmands by two respected elders using much Arapaho language a.nd prayer forms. Another case in,point is the moving eulogy given by the elder at a funeral, touching the people in a manner that sup-plements if not supercedes the homily of the priest. Alo~ng the way, mistakes have.beenomade and will occur again. But I would submit that this careful mode of pastoral praxis will be the "labora-tory" out of which new theological understanding will grow. And in turn the critical work of theology will enrich and confirm and challenge pastoral practice. The demands placed on both pastoral and speculativ~e ministries are intimidating, but they are also an exciting call to creativity. Faith and JuStice: A Socio-Pastoral Reflection / 357 Justice The pastoral worker is in a position to avoid many theoretical traps in the struggle to come to terms with the meaning of justice, as well as to show that the great, stress given to it is not misplaced. While admittedly there is the danger of a simplistic approach to social problems, a discern-ing study of the milieu of pastoral work soon"reveals many of the immedi-ate and long-range problems of creating a more humane existence.' In studying the problems of Wind River Indian people, andin listening to the people themselves, we have been able to assemble a list of social problems ttiat as missionaries we are in a position to confront, or which we must consider for our future apostolate. In the larger picture, there is the already much-discussed problem of our materialistic American society, its wastefulness, its exploitiveness, its, political corruption. This has of course been the object of attack by militant organizations, and receives the bulk of attention given by, Catholic jour-nals. But, as wise Indian leaders assert, only so much can be obtained by protest against these evils. What is more urgent is the status of Indian peo-ple now, the positive growth by which they learn to confront, under their own power, the evils of a larger social environment. Impeding this growth, we have found, ~ire several outstanding inhumane situations, conditions of injustice intruding themselves into our meditations. The worst form of slavery :for Indian people today is ignorance, an ignorance that can be overthrown only by massive cariapaigns of quality education. This education must eventually be conducted and administered by their own people, if young Indians .are to become "conscientized~' to their own condition 'and rendered capable of changing it. Only a self-governed process of education is likely to capture the imaginations of Indian ctiildren and youth,~whose indifference to learning is lai'gely due to the fact that it is presented to them asia foreign import and thus another form of bondage., to white America: Thus, many mission schools, whether forced'~to it by lack of funds, or on the initiative of far-seeing administra-tors,"~ are now sharing the Indian political struggle to obt'ain government support for contracts under which Indian school boards will run schools and dictate policies. In the last year of our own efforts to support such a drive for Indian self-determination, in cooperation with Indian leaders, we have already observed a new sense of confidence in people tasting the hope of control of their own destiny. The pain in such growth to self-determina-tion will be considerable, but the Church should see here an opportunity to enter into a non-violent struggle for political liberation and the changing of oppressive structures. A problem closely connected to this move toward self-determination is the sudden unleashing by the United States government of vast sums of money upon people long accustomed to destitution and often not prepared to handle such funds. The worl( of Christian missionaries here is at least Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 twofold. Firstly, we must assist the people to acquire financial and admin-istrative skills. Secondly, in the face of the all-too-human temptation to graft and pocket-lining, the Christian must be an example of detachment from self-interest aud proclaim by his deeds that he is here to serve. Tra-ditionally, Indian people have valued communal endeavor, and have of necessity been concerned with frugality. But greed and a type of self-serving individualism, whether stemming from tribal origins or from the white society, threaten to .mar the whole process of financial self-deter-mination with the ugliest scars of personal or factional opportunism. The gospel message here is clear, and it is up to the Christian to exemplify it. Thirdly, Indian tribes, partly because of the social disorders brought on by invasion and partly by natural tribal jealousies, are subject to family feuds and long-standing animosities. Tribal pressure can be the most en-slaving form of manipulation experienced anywhere. Merely preaching against this is ineffectual, but the Church has the opportunity to build re-sistance to such pressure through its practice of Christian reconciliation. First of all, we must attend to our own house: if Catholic and Protestant churches do not begin to show forth reconciliation, the preaching of unity and cohesion is countersigned by actual fact. Second, by various liturgical and social events, the Church is in a position to be a reconciler of families long at enmity, and within families themselves. The sponsoring of groups in which married couples can learn to communicate (the old forms of con-trol and relationship having been lost), is a high priority in mission plan-ning. Along with this, the providing and encouragement of simple good times is of vital necessity in the often gloomy life of a reservation. Finally, the most devastating plague visited by the invading culture upon Indian society is alcohol. Causes for Native American addiction have been argued ever since the importation of fermented liquor into North America. There are theories about Indian alcoholics that argue both physi-ological and social causes. But whatever the basic problem, the one fact cited by Indian leaders ever since the seventeenth century is that this foreign introduction is not for Indians. Once again, it is a problem of in: justice that in theory seems to defy every solution that has been offered. The churches have always struggled with the problem, most commonly through total abstinence pledges, which are weak but at least partially effective ammunition against the scourge. But again mission ~planning is called directly to the point of pastoral praxis rather than to theory. It is now, taking means to combat spiritual problems as idle and meaningless existence, loss of identity due to cultural vacuum, and inability to handle and articulate frustration, again due to loss of cultural expression. Here too missionaries have come to realize how closely related are the solution to these-problems and a strong praying community that can provide spiritual and emotional strength; the spiritual order and the social order are brought together in the prayer-life of the community. It has fallen to Faith and Justice: A Socior~astorbl Reflection / 359 the churches to nourish that kind of communal life of worship once in-spired by the great Indian prophets who arose in times of suffering and persecution. The above are examples of how a given pastoral ministry finds itself challenged by the demands of faith and justice. I present this brief essay with the hope that other ministries will continue to provide input into the discussion about faith and justice in our ministry of the Gospel. There is no doubt both need for and profit in challenging the cosmic problems of world hunger, exploitive corporations, military-industrial complexes and .the like. But there are also grave situations of unbelief and injustice right. on our present ministerial doorsteps. "Doing theology" around these prob-lems may enable us to develop a better theology and spirituality of min-istry that draws not only from exegesis and systematics, but from culture and from society as well. As this article is being written, the liturgical readings for weekdays include the Letter of James. With its roots in the rabbinic wisdom tradi-tion and inspired by that "faith in our Lord Jesus Christ" with which no "personal prejudice is to be involved" (Jm 2.'1), th~s epistle proclaims with great power thai "faith by itself without works is dead" (2:18). When the author asserts that "one is justified by works and not by. faith alone" (2:24), he is not attacking the cardinal Pauline teaching that works of the la~w cannot justify man before God. From context it is clear that James is eulogizi,ng~ a faith-filled Abraham whose obedience inspired him to .ful-fill all justice as he saw it. ' There is in the Letter of ~l~mes a spiritualit3i~that contemplates the faith-life as a life permeated by the wisdom given by God to all who stand firm, and intuits in that life ihe duties of a justified Christian. Chapter two of the epistle sets before us what is perhaps the New~Testament's most un-equivocal statement about the inseparability of faith and justice. St, Paul' is the great apostle of ,spiritual freedom based on~ the humble acceptance of our utter dependence on God'and ,On the belief that~ "ou.r" justice is God's justice, granted us 0nly as believers. But what James' message .tells us-- 6choing with greater severity thee teaching of Romans cc. 12-15, is what Alfri~d Delp Wrote to the people of.Nazi Qermany in 1945--that the most pious praye¢ becomes a blasptiemy on the lips 9f one who tolerates condi-tions fatal to mankind. As I once heard a Native American tribal leader tell an hssembly of sociologists and social workers, "Wi/h~us Indians there is no separation of Church and State!" This was no defense of an established church, but simply a statement of the Indian belief, phrased in white man's jargon, professing that wha~ is truly religious bfiilds the human community, and that what is truly just partakes of the wholeness of spiritual reality. The missionary must draw upon the spiritual-social wisdom of James and upon"the contemplative Indian integration of religion, and justice, if his theology of faith and justice is to progr.ess beyond the abstract. Biblical Guidelines to Marian Devotion J. Massyngberde Ford o Professor Ford is on the faculty of the Department of Theology at Notre Dame University. Well known for her scriptural studies and her other wri.tings, she is also involved 'in the women's movement within the Church and with the charismatic movement. Her mailing address: Department of Theology; University of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, IN 46556. 'In this essay I wish' to endeavor, as far as it is possible, t.o place l~Ia{~,, the Mother of Jesus, within her own milieu, against the historical, ~conomic.al, social and religious background of her tirde. I should like to dethrone her from any pedestal upon which we have placed her and see her as a vital historical figui'e in the vivid dram]a of heilsgeschichte as we find it in first century A.D. Palestine. The World into which Mary was Born Hengel remarks that by the time of'Jesus Palestine had been under Hellenistic rule and its resultant cultural influence and political unrest for some 360 years? Mai'y was born into a war-torn country. Her people had been under the foreign domination of the Romans since 63 B.C. when Pompey, the Roman general, not only conquered Palestine but audaciously entered the H01Y of Holies (Josephus B.J. l :152). In the eyes of Mary's co-religionists this was a sacrilege crying to heaven for vengeance. Under the Romans King Herod was permitted to rule Palestine but he was hated by the vast majority of his people. He was of despicable birth, an Idu-maean, and therefore only half Jewish: Jesus called his successor "that fox" 1Martin Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism, Fortress Press, Philadelphia, E. T. John 'Bowden, 2nd revised edition, 1973, vol. I, p. 1. 360 Biblical Guidelines to Marian Devotion (.Lk 13:32). Herod indulged extravagantly in Hellenistic customs, large building programs, games, shrines to the Caesars, and he had ten wives. He burdened the.people with heavy taxation and was unscrupulous and cruel in exactihg it. Economically the country was in poor condition especially because of the large lati[undia (large country estates) often owned by absentee landlords, many of whom were non-Jewish (cf. the Parable of the Wicked Tenants Mk 12:1-12 and par.). However, more intensified domestic or political resistance arose from the time of the death of Herod the Great in 4 B.C. It is from this period that scholars would date the rise or organization of the Jewish national-ists, the Zealots. They were a prophetic movement.~ They espoused only one master, namely, God; they refused to pay the Roman taxes and, while showing incredible witness in the face of suffering and even death, they were fanatical and violent in their opposition to Rome or those who sided with her, even their kinsfolk. They would neither look at a coin with an image inscribed on it or walk beneath the shadow of an idol. Their leaders, Judah the Galilean, his two sons and other~relatives formed a kind of dynasty which added solidity to the movement. Galilee was a hotbed of the Zealots and, indeed, sometimes the designa~tion "Galil~ans" seems to have been used for them.:' The city of Sepphoris in Galilee became one of the five Sanhedrins during the Roman rule and at one point was captured by the Jewish nationalists. The rebellion was quelled by Varus who burned it and sent its inhabitants into slavery (Josephus Ant. 17:286-298, B.J. 2:66-71). Herod Antipas rebuilt the city. Sepphoris was northwest of Nazareth. This party of the Zealots attracted both the educated and the poorer rural people and also some of the more violent school of Pharisees, the Shammaites. This is but a brief reference to the political and economic status of Mary's country but it is of immense importance for understanding both the psycholog3( and spirituality of Mary (and Joseph) and their peculiar circumstances. It is hardly credible that they should remain untouched by tile stirring events which occurred during their life-time and especially within their own district. When we ~turn to the religious scene again we witness "fightings out-side and fears within (cf 2 Co 7:5). The Sadducees were largely fromthe aristocracy, wealthy, priestly figures who took a fundamentalist interpreta-tion of the Scripture, e.g. they upheld the lex talionis, an eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth. They repudiated the afterlife, especially the resurrection of the dead, providence, and angels. They held the majority of seats on the '-'For material on the Zealots see S. G~ F. Brandon, Jesus and the Zealots, Manchester University Press, Manchester, 1967; W. R. Farmer. Maccabees, Zealots attd Josephus, Columbia University Press, New York, 1957; Martin Hengel, Die Zeloten~ E. J. Brill, . Leiden, 1961. :~Brandon op. cit. pp. 54 cf. 78, 226 note 4 and 339 note 4. 36:2 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 Sanhedrin, the Jewish council. Then there were~the two Pharisaic. parties. The school of Hillel, the gentle, humble Hillel who strove to mitigate the Jewish law to help the poor and who was nearly lynched by some of~ the other Pharisees when he went to offer sacrifice in the Temple. His teach-ing was close to Jesus'. Consider, for example: My homiliation is my exaltation: My exaltation is my humiliation. Do not appear naked (among the dressed) neither dressed (among the naked): do not appear standing (among those who sit) neither sitting (among those who stand) do not appear laughing (among those who weep) neither weeping (among those who laugh). The rule is: Do not deviate from the usage of men? However, opposed to the school of Hillel stood the school of Shammai. They were ultrastrict observers of the law, perhaps allies with the Zealots, and once placed a sword in their academY to symbolize suffering and death for those who dissented from their views. In the forties A.D. they passed the eighteen Halakolh (precepts) which were designed to minimi~ze contact between Jew, Samaritan and Gentile? Five of the precepts in'volved the dietary laws (contrast Jesus' attitude towards the latter Mk 7:14-23). Further one must glance at the status of the priesthood at the time of Jesus. Priesthood was, of course, hereditary but Herod and the Roman procurator had enormous influence upon the choice of the high priest. In fact the Romans even kept the high priestly vestments in custody and only allowed the Jews to use them on the greater liturgical feasts (Josephus Ant. 18:90-95 cf 15:403-5; 20:6-15). J. Jeremias'; estimates that there were about 7,200 priests, and, if one adds the Levites, 18,000 clergy in Jerusalem. However, there was a serious rift between the country priests, such is th~ father bf John the Baptist, and the permanent Jerusalem priests. The former were usually of moderate means, sometimes poor. The latter carried on brisk trade especially with animals and qther items needed for the sacrifices. Man3~ of the priests had large incomes5 Some indulged in simony. Some had good relations with the Roman governors. Many of the priests also plied a trade such as car.pentry and stone masonry. Prodi-gious wealth was found among the priests." Finally, one must take into consideration the community which lived 'ICited from Nahum Glatzer, Hillel the Elder,, Schocken Books, New Yoi'k, 1956, p. 38. .- ~'Hengel, Die Zeloten op, tit. pp. 204~208. ~,Joachim Jeremias, !erusalem in the Time o[ Jesus, E.T.F. H. and C. H. Cave, 3rd ed. S.C.M. Press, l_ondon, 1969, p.200. Zlbid., p. 105f. '~lbid., p. 96f. ' Biblical Guidelines to Marian Devotion / 363 near the Dead Sea, the Qumran covenanters. They became~eventually like a sect, withdrawn into the desert, keeping the law ~Vith a strictness not even found among the Pharisees and living in expectation of two Messiahs, one political and one priestly. They believed in the Holy War. I have taken some time. in briefly reviewing the state of Palestine for it is only"hgainst this background that we can~gauge the enormous appre-hensioh, perhaps even fear, which would seize a mother's heart when she realized that her son 'would find himself unacceptable 'to most. of these parties because of his teaching and practice. The History of Mary We may turn now to the history of Mary herself. She may have come from priestly stock as her kinsfolk were Zachary and Elizabeth (Lk 1:36). The Proto-evangelium of James (written not before 150 A~D:) describes Mary's parents and their anxiety for a child. It tells how an angel came to Anna and said "Anna, Anna, the Lord htis heard your prayer. You shall c6nceive and bear, and your offspring shall be spoken of in the whole world." And Anna said: "As the Lord my Gd~l lives, if I bear a child, whether male or female, I will bring it a~ a gilt to the Lord my' God, and it shall serve him all the days o[ its lije" (4:1 ). In this gospel Mary is offered to the Temple at the age of three. When she was twelve the council of priests decided that she would marry "that she may not pollute the temple of the Lord" (6:2). It is also reported that she helped to make a veil for the~ temple of~ the ~.L.,ord (10:1).~' It is commonly supposed that this wor.k is pious fiction.'H0wever, it is not neces~ sary, either to accept or reject every detail in an apocryphal gospel: 'The Gospel of Thomas is a good example of this. Indeed some features of the Proto-evangdlium ~of James have' close affinity to Luke?° ,Concerning Mary's residence in the Temple and her making curtains it is~worth remarking that Jereoias" reports that the Temple ct~'rtains were a constant occupation. Shek, 5:1 describes Eleazar who took care of these and was obliged to find "skilled weavers and knitters to produce annually two of the Temple curtains, 20 cubits wide and 40 cubits long: these were hung in 13 places in the Temple" (Yoma 54a; Ket. 106a). Each curtain had to be woven in ~six colors on 72 strands, each with 24 threads (Shek. 8:5; Yom. 7lb. Tos. Shek. 13, 178). According to Shek. 8:5 (the variant readings differ: of. Ket. 106a; Jer Shek. viii.4, 51b. 13). Eighty-two maidens had tq produce two curtains each year. The curtains were made of blue, scarlet and purple stuffs, and byssus (fine white linen). 9E. Hennecke, New Testament Apocrypha, E.T.R. Mcl. Wilson, Lutterworth Press, London, vQI. 1, pp. 370-388. ~°lbid., pp. 380, 381-2386. X~Jeremias op. cit. p. 25. 364 /~Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1:976/3 I tentatively suggest.that it is possible-that Mary was given ~,to the Temple until she was 12 ~years old. In the Proto-evangelium of James the curtains which Mary helps to weave are made of gold, amianthus, linen, silk, hyacinth-blue, scarlet and purple.1~ The colors are similar to those mentioned in the Mishnaic and Talmudic texts. Children associated with the Temple were also required for the ~eremony of the red heifer:but the text does not intimate the gender of the children (Parah 3:2-4). But im-portantly, if Mary were in the Temple for some time, she must have been apprised of matters both good and bad which revolved round the Temple. She might realize, for example, the greed and wealth of many of the high priests and the money involved inthe sacrificial victims trade. Thus she would understand,fully when Jesus cleansed the Temple but she would be apprehensive, for the Temple had special police among its personnel. Mary was betrothed and espoused to Joseph. He was probably a land owner as he was obliged to register his property during the Roman census. "Josephus mentions property explicitly when he refers to the census under Quirinius, if this is the one to which Lk 2:1-3 refers (Ant. 18:1). We might also add the possibility of Joseph's property being confiscated either by the Romans or by Herod or the tax collectors during the family's sojourn as political refugees in Egypt. Ownerless property could be con-fiscatedY~ This author should concur with Buchanan who, commenting on 2 Co 8: 9, writes: The likelihood'thatJesus was originally from a wealthy family and that he gave up his wealth for the movement he led seems greater ~hen his rela-tionship to wealthy tax collectors "and rulers is considered. Most of his parables and teachings seem to have bee~ directed to an upper class of people who had money to lend, give, and use for hiring servants. His willingness to surrender this for the Kingdom of God would have given him more authority to ask others to give up all they had than he would have had if he had been reared in poverty. It would have been difficult in the Near East for a poor man to gain a hearing with the rich as Jesus evidently did.14 She also agrees with David Flusser1~ who states: Viewing Jesus' sayings against the background of contemporary Jewish learn-ing, . . . it is easy to observe that Jesus was far from uneducated. He was 12In an article published by the Marian Library, Dayton, Ohio, I hive tentatively put forward the thesis, that Mary was responsible for the Hebrew original of the Epistle to the Hebrews. Mary had known her son much longer than any of the~ disciples and would be an extremely prolific source of knowledge. l:~j. Duncan M. Derrett, Law in the New Testament, Darton, Longman and Todd, London, 1970, pp. 300-306. ~aGeorge W. Buchanan, To the Hebrews. the Anchor Bible, Doubleday, New York, 1972. pp. 208-209. ~David Flusser, Jesus, E.T. Ronald Walls, Herder and Herder, New York, 1969, p. 18. Biblical Guidelines to Marian Devotion / 365 perfectly at home both in Holy Scripture, and in oral tradition, and knew how to app!y.this scholarly heritage. Jesus' Jewish education ~.was incompa-rably superior to that of St. Paul. In the light of the tenets of these two scholars one is persuaded to see~the Holy Family,° not as poor, uneducated, politically uninformed peasants, but people who were fully conscious of the important .factors of the state of Palestine, people who were politically, economically, socially and religiously alert. Neither do they appear to have been bystanders to the situation. Mt 2:21ff seems to ,suggest that Joseph intended to reside permanently in Bethlehem after the, flight to Egypt but returned to Mary's village of Nazareth because of the political situation. Mary was probably betrothed at the age of twelve rand a half.TM David Daubelr has found an affinity between the book of Ruth and the Annunci-ation pericope. He gives special attention to the word "overshadow" (epischiazO) and its Semitic equivalents salalo(Hebrew) and tallel (Ara-" maic).~ These are frequently used of the overshadowing of the divine pre~sence. All three words can refer to the descent of.the Spirit of, God and also,to the spirit of prophecy; both meani'ngs are applicable in the case of Mary. However, a further usage is available. Associated with tallel is the noun tallith which designates "the cloak of a pious or scholarly man." This was distinguished by '.'wings." The rabbis used the expression "to spread the tallith (or wi, ng) over a woman" to denote marital relations. Thus Ruth can say "I am Ruth thine ha, ndmaid; spread therefore thy wing over thine handmaid, for thou art a redeemer'''~' (cf Rt 3:9). A similar phrase, in a spiritual sense, occurs in Ezk 16:8 where God says to Jeru-salem, "Thy time was the time of love, and I spread my wing over thee." Moreover, the rabbis had another.euphemism for "cohabitation," namely, ','to lay one's power (reshuth) over a woman." In the Lucan narrative of the Annunciation the a.ngel uses both the words "power" (-reshuth) and "overshadow" (-tqllel) and Luke clear!y, indicates that God will be the agent~.who im~plements this. Mary gives her consent inswords very similar to those of Ruth:: "Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according.to your word" (Lk 1:38). The.us the narrative of the annunciation is presented in terms of a be-trothal or marriage.yontract or .marital consummation, the proposal by God and the acceptance express.ed by ~Mary:. The event had been fore-shadowed in the Book of Ruth. In pondering the words of the angel, perhaps lreported by,~ Mary to him, Joseph might well say "God has laid his power over her" and "He has spread his wing over her." Tl~en, if l~;Jeremias op. cit. ~ . lZDavid Daube, The New Testament attd Rabbinic Judaist~t, Athlone Press, Londoh, 1956, pp. 27-51. ~Slbid., p. 33. ~ X'qlbid., p. 33. ~' " : 366 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/3 used the principie of rabbinic biblical interpretation known as kal wa homer (inference frofa the minor premise to the major), he would argue that, if a woman were forbidden to her husband because she had been impreg-nated by another man, how much more would Mary be forbidden to her husband if God had laid his power over her. Thus Joseph might conclude that through her voluntary consent Mary had become the property of God for all time. She ffould be "forbidden to: the whole world" for God had chosen her like a consecrated vessel--or the ark in the sanctuary. This was an analogy used by Jews contemporary with Jesus, namely, a woman is set apart for one man as a vessel is for the Temple (Kid 2b). Joseph might also have felt that Is 54:4 was fully realized:: For your mak

Issue 30.4 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR R~LIGIOUS; ~12 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St.- Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis ~. ~.,'ersity, the editorial oflfices being located . ';12 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard. Saint Louis, Missour 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~ 1971 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Published for Review fi,r Religious at Mr. Roval & (;uilford Ave., Bahimore. Md. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore. Maryland and at additional mailin~ offices. Single c~pies: $1.25. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW eort REL1OIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW IgOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. - Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REvmw ~OR RELIGIOtJS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 4 SISTER MARIE BRINKMAN, S.C.L. Toward a Theology of Women's Religious A theology of any aspect of the Christian life by its nature evolves. Perhaps the greatest difficulty of living in an age of transition in the Church is to feel the process and not the fruits of theological evolution. That seems to be where we are in what has long been called--and lately "unlabeled" by Brother Gabriel Moranl--religious life. Whatever such a theology has been for the past, it is no longer adequate if we are to judge by current efforts to enunciate a theology of celibacy for the present, or fu-ture. If it is fair to generalize, we might call that of the past a "theology of negation." In the sense used here, the term means an understanding and practice of the vows o~ religion which emphasized mortification or restraint of human inclinations and desires, in order to realize an ideal of universal charity dedicated to service, sharing of goods in community, and snbmission to the will of God. The end was wholly positive: to follow Jesus Christ in establishing His kingdom on earth. The ground of the theology was the gospel. But complex factors resulted in emphasis on the self: self-denial, self-perfection, and a profound privacy in living united with God. Such em-phasis wa~ natural and necessary when the life of celibacy for the kingdom struck its roots in a primitive Christian-ity inimical to its pagan surroundings. Flight from the world to the desert--literally or simply in spirit--was a dramatic and effective model for following Christ. If Augustine's experience and temperament brought liim to it in struggle, others sought it by inclination. It ~See his article in National Catholic Reporter, December 18, 1970. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Marie is a faculty member of ¯ St. Mary College; Xavier, Ks. 66098. VOLUME 30, 1971 4" 4" 4" Sister Marie ¯ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 564 would be some time, furthermore, before the asceticism of the desert and Augustinian theology, influenced by Paul, would be modified by Benedict's rule of modera-tion. Even then, throughout the Middle Ages, as the monastery came to grips with the world, the need for strict asceticisnl gTew. If its roots in the gospel became manifest in the joy of Francis's mendicant poverty, the joy was no less the fruit of renunciation. Yet within the Poverello's .lifetime, that reach of the spirit that says "yes" to all creation proved too difficult an integra'tion for many. Extremes and strife divided his followers. But if negativism and individualism were always abuses of celibate life, spiritual freedom and individnal-ity were its frnit in every age. The passion of universal charity, of profound friendship, and of intimacy with Jesus Christ is the part of the mystery that Benedict, Francis, and John of the Cross knew to its depths. So too conntless others. A positive theology then is nothing new--except in an interpretation and practice appropriate to contempo-rary experience and language. The question is not the validity of renunciation under vows, which by Christ's promise brings the hundredfold of communal life, but the meaning of that recompense. If emphasis in the past has been on limitation and self-denial for the sake of the spirit, it is growing into a desire for celebration of the spirit. If, in the past, a certain privatism of spirituality paralleled external community life, today personal and communal relationships are becoming ways to God in a different manner. Far from a secularistic or humanistic approach to reli-gious commitment, the question may involve a more de-manding and mature way of living in simplicity and obe-dience to the Spirit than did older forms of communal living. It may call for a fuller renunciation in the very experience of personal commnnion and communal rela-tionships. The point is that, primarily, the question is one of community. Here is no suggestion that the historical phenomenon of individual persons freely coming together to live in celibacy and service, and publicly declaring their inten-tion to the Christian community, is pass~ in the life of the Chnrch. That personalism, freedoin of life style, and sharing can become fetishes of a new kind of communal life is an evident risk. That the life may broaden to include celibate anti married persons in the same commu-nity is an evident possibility. But the risk of any communal life is loss of solitude sufficient to sustain it, and sharing that becomes expo-sure. Put another way, the nltimate risk is absence, rather than presence, of God to lnan in his heart. Then the presence of fellowmen becomes an absolute necessity-- and a new flight to the desert follows. Paul's analogy of marriage and the Church can be a foundation stone for a new enunciation of an old theol-ogy of celibate communal life. The analogy has less to do with the submission of woman to man and a concept of virginity as superior to marriage than with the comple-mentary values of marriage and celibacy. The Church is imaged in neither one nor the other, but in both. This is so because the analogy to the Chnrch lies not only in the sexual union of man and wife, fruitful in the family, but in the union between mature persons in friendship. Without this highest valne--which is Christ's own word for man's union with him--marriage is imper-fect, and celibacy is not fully hnman. It may be that for most people the ration of Cltrist and tl~e individual per-son is fully realized only within a spiritual union of free, eqnal persons. Marriage wants this; celibacy shoukl nur-ture it. Further, in Augustine's doctrine of uni~m with God, it is not the negative and ascetical aspects of the spiritual life that are significant so much as his emphasis on pres-ence, the inner Light that is God dwelling in man. That presence between persons is a reality analogous to, even conducive to growth in presence with God was not a strange idea to Augustine. He knew it fully in relation to his mother, if to no one else. In the twelfth century, Kichard of St. Victor, by way of Augnstine's doctrine of exemplarism, the "necessary rea-son," explained from the experience of human love the communion of Persons in the Trinity. Ewert Cousins, in a recent issue of Thought,'-" perceptively analyzes Ri-chard's treatise as a contribution of medieval theology to contemporary philosophy and psychology. Examining the dynamics of interpersonal love in the faith-transformed tradition of the Christian community, Richard sees that charity demands that a person love to the fullness of his capacity: "To enter into a partial rela-tionship with another person, without depth or intensity, is to fail to realize the possibilities of human love." And in realizing such capacity "one mounts into the life of God . The human person ~nost imitates his divine Exemplar--and is therefore most a person--when he transcends himself in a union of love for another per-son." :~ The author then explores a deeper level of Richard's theology of love, as a growth from charity to the happi-ness of loll communication to the generosity of sharing -""A Theology of Interpersonal Relations," Thougt, t, Spring 1970, pp. 56-82. :~ Ibid., pp. 71 and 65. 4- 4- + Women's Ret~g~ous VOLUME 30, 1971 + ÷ + Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 566 this ~nutual love. In explaining the exemplary reason for the Trinity of Divine Persons, the medieval theologian speaks of three aspects of charity: self-transcending union, individuality of persons, and their creativity. In this third and perfect stage of charity, it is fruitful in a third per-son: ua the Trinity, the Spirit; in the union of hnsband and wife, the child; and in friendship, community with yet another. But a theologian, contemporary now rather than to his own time, offers a doctrine of analogy even richer in implications, perhaps, for present thought about the spir-itual life. It may well be that Ricbard's and his own thinking coincide. John Henry Newman, especially in his writings about the act of knowledge, the life of faith, and the development of doctrine, dealt with man's relation-ship to God in a way that foreshadowed the insigl~ts of philosophers and psychologists of human relationships for a century to come. Althongh he speaks in the traditional language of Catholic doctrine about revealed mysteries, he is con-stantly describing and reflecting on experience, and re-fuses to leave mystery or doctrine on any abstract plane. The act of conscience, observed in the earliest life of reason, becomes for him a consciousness of AnotlYer and a response that demands fidelity. When this moral princi-ple becomes a growing knowledge of Person, faith be-comes experiential. That it becomes an experience to be shared is the explanation for Newman's writing about it. As be knew faith, it was the fulfillment of reason. It was a profoundly human experience of a divine gift, so fitting to the mind, rigorot, sly exercised, as to seem na-tural. This experience, as the ground of a concept of anal-ogy, is so far from being simply intellectual that it be-comes an act of relationship, a response to presence that is the very analogue of friendship. Analogy here means no mere parallel between knowl-edge and belief, between human and divine relationship; neither did the exemplar, or "necessary reason," for Au-gustine or Richard. It means an interaction, a comple-ment. Levels and quality of experience remain distinct even while illnminating and enlarging one another. But the implications cannot receive fair treatment outside the context of Newman's full reflections and development of ideas. They are the ground for asking some serious ques-tions about communal life nnder vows, as it develops today. If the most serious of these tend to converge, it is per-haps toward an nltimate qnestion: Is there something absolute that constitutes religious life as a necessary fac-tor in the life of the Church, and if so what is it? Answers wonld not be slow in coming: the vows, corn- munity, celibate consecration to Jesus Christ, service to the people of God according to the Gospel . or others. Then, because any one of these, in relation to the others, can evoke a fair argument for its primary value for reli-gious life, the question remains, what is there in com-munal living, or an act of dddication, or apostolic witness that demands patterns of living in obedience, poverty, and chastity? For not only the patterns but their princi-ples are in question. The thesis here is that an experienced relationship to God in Jesus Christ, known througla a like relationship to one's companions, is the absolute factor without which religious life wonld not exist. The theological, psycholog-ical, and strnctnral dimensions of the relationship are not different approaches to the question, but aspects of a single phenomenon of celibate consecrated life--here considered as it may be for a woman. Companions, in tbe traditional context of religious life, are tile members of one's immediate religious family and include all the members of the community. In the whole view, however, they are not defined by either of these groups, for at one time in the history of the Church, celibate women witnessed to the kingdom within the sin-gle Christian community, without need for a gronp set apart, and it is conceivable that the condition conld pre-vail again. Then the Christian commnnity itself would be so renewed that its communal witness would be all that the Church would require and individual celibate men and women would minister within it, but in more varied ways demanded by the needs of a Church in a secularized society. A married clergy within the ranks of the diocesan priesthood might be prophetic of such celibate life in the Church, which ah'eady exists along with religious com-munities. Celibates, priests, and laity would then make one whole community. The relationship in question is that which tlows from the life of the Trinity to man in God's acts of Father-hood, or creation and providence; of Sonsbip, or revela-tion in redemption; and of Spirit, or indwelling to make whole, integTal, or holy. All this is a matter of initial, continning belief for the Christian who, gradually by God's graciousness, comes to know experientially what it means to be created, forgiven, and loved. Fm'tber, the quality of that experiential knowledge of faith is undefin-able and dilferent for each believer. The point here is that it takes on a special aspect for one who responds to the call to live by the evangelical counsels. Then the relationship to God entails a complete dedication, or giving over, of oneself to Jesns Christ for ÷ + + Women's Religious LiIe VOLUME 30, 1971 567 Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 568 the sake of extending His kingdom on earth. The de-mand on a person may be simply that of God's will, a desire to live in a religious community, gratitude for what God has given and the need to share it, or any other form the call may take; bnt it is answered with the knowledge that it means service, nndetermined by oneself and in a condition of personal poverty. The service and its necessary conditions, as well as the connnunity in which it is given, are secondary to the ultimate motivation which comes from the realization that God is one's Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifying Life, and that He wishes to be so to others who do not . know Him. The initial undertaking of a vowed life for such reasons is like the commitment of a young woman to a man whom she knows and loves for his goodness and wishes to marry; as yet she has no real knowledge of what he is like in his whole self and in the power of his relation to her. That can only come in their day-to-day mntual giving and growth in conjugal love. The consent and gift of the marriage vows arc an act of faith that fuller realization of each other will bring to maturity. If the love grows in the depth that the sacrament signi-fies, and when it includes the full dimension of friend-ship, the realization must come in the most intimate and generous hnman relationship possible to man. This then is not model for, but parallel to the realization and inti-macy that the religious woman should achieve in relation to Jesus Christ: parallel in th:~t a conamitment either to marriage or to religious life depends upon an extension, in concrete experinaental terms, of the faith and hope and love in which a believing person lives with God--but frequently at a less profound depth of experience than he knows in a human relationship. In fact, it is almost easier for a yonng woman to believe in the creative power for her of the man she loves than in the highly personal creative providence of God for her. She may experience his forgi~reness in a more immedi-ately healing way than she knows the mercy of Christ; and her sense of oneness with him grows more strong than her awareness of God's dwelling in her. When reali-zation of her relationship to God eqnals in intensity of experience her relationship with her husband, she will live to the full the sacrament of marriage and be herself a channel of God's action. But the same difficulty in realizing a personal relation to God that integrates ;ill hunaan relationship can attend the spiritual growth of a religions. It is not so ranch a matter of which must take precedence as it is a constant projection of one to the other for the sake of understand-ing, and realizing God through knowing and loving man. Whatever the actual level of experience in relationship a person knows in marriage or religious life, the two are parallel, .or complementary, in the Church as a sign of God's relation to man in a human commnnity. One is as necessary to the Cburcb as the otber. But in tbe parallel lies their difference. Marriage isa formal sacrament, be-cause the family community is fundamental to buman natnre and stands in need of special grace beyond that of the individual Christian life; because families propagate the Christian community of believers; and because the union of man and wife signify the union of Christ and his Church. Furtber, marriage lind the family witness to the mysteries of Incarnation and Redemption as they renew man in time. The religious community, on the other hand, bad its beginning later in bistory when a special witness within the Christian community was needed. The witness con-sists in colnmunity, as does that of the family, bnt not in any particular form--monastic, mendicant, apostolic, or contemplative. The form may even be the Christian com-munity as a whole, with certain members living in celi-bate witness and service. The essential note of religious life is the witness of a relationship to Jesus Christ unique in the Church, dependent upon the absolute surrender of oneself to God for the sake of the kingdom. II The religious consecration and the common life that ordinarily flows from it are sacramental by their nature, a sign of the escbatological mystery of the fulfillment of the kingdom, that is, the full realization of God's creative, redemptive, and nnitive action upon an individual man and the whole human community. Religious life itself is the temporal sacrament of the Church as it will be be-yond time when all realities signified will be revealed. But just as nothing of the God-man relationship is an abstraction of doctrine or theology when realized in expe-rience, so this connection between the individual and the human community under God's action is a living reality to be experienced, if it is true. If the nature of its truth could be realized by the individual, living either in the natural family or the religious group, then much of the conflict between the personal and the communal, be-tween the natural and the supernatural would disappear. To say its trutb lies in living out the doctrine of the Mystical Body and in realizing the community of the people of God is not to perceive how this is accomplisbed psychologically. To say it is the work of grace is not to explain what grace is, in the interaction of God's and man's freedom. And the words of Cbrist that "what you do to the least of tbese you do to me" are a truth that, like all trntbs of such dimension, is in danger of becom-÷ + ÷ Women's Religious VOLUME .30, 1971 569 4" Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ing axiomatic. Perhaps his other words, "This is my Body, which shall be given for you," bear upon these truths in such a way as to make clear what the experience of the relationship of the believer, and more particularly of the religious, to Jesus Christ can be. The full dimension and significance of the Incarnation is latent in these words of consecration. The mystery of God's taking on a created body, in order to be present to us fully in suffering our human condition, becomes here the mystery of Christ's signifying His creative and re-demptive presence in us in the form of food. Because He Himself is the food, we become one in eating it together --a unity of personal communion with Him and inter-communion with one another, a community hidden and yet to be realized in human personal communion. As with Him, this grows and expresses itself in the aware-ness of another's presence, in a growing knowledge of another's reality, in merciful acceptance of one's own and another's sinfulness, and in free creative unifying love. If these are effects of our communicating Jesus Christ, they are to be the effects of our communicating with one another. They are what man in his nature needs and constantly seeks in a fellowman; they are what only God can supply fully. But it may well be that God does not ordinarily work these effects in man except through his communion with those associated with him in a human community. When marriage becomes what it is meant to be for a man and a woman, their interrelationships are God-like in their effects, are, in fact, the very way in which God comes to and acts upon them. Ideally, as a couple mature in marriage, husband and wife increasingly liberate the creative power of the other, in the public ways of making and governing a home, of rearing a family. But the im-measurable factors of personal liberation of the spirit that determine the growth and interaction of personality between a man and a woman are the real cause of the family's unity. When a woman is fully recognized for what she is_and can become, is even brought to be what she could not be alone; when time after time she receives forgiveness for what she has done and compassion for what she is from one who knows her; when imperceptibly she comes to freedom and peace in union with one who loves her, then all of her creative powers are awakened to be exercised primarily upon her children, within her home, and beyond it. If she believes and contemplates this action of God upon her spirit through her relation to her husband, her faith in God's providence, her hope in His mercy, and her love for Jesus Christ become one with and realized in the bonds that unite her with husband and children in their community. The same needs of the spirit are fulfilled .or frustrated in the human community of those wbo have consecrated themselves by vow to Jesus Christ. But just as a husband can be neither substitute for a relation to God nor an "instrument" of salvation for a woman, so relation to Christ, for a celibate woman, is in no way a substitute for or even a sublimation of what a husband might be to her; nor is her religious community a substitute for a family. The relation to Christ is the ultimate human fulfillment in either familial or religious community; the human relations are not image of or psychological substi-tute for but the very substance and realization of the personal relation to God, in Jesus Christ. They are, or should be, fulfillment of Christ's words, "This is my Body." It is such relationship---of creative freedom, of healing mercy, and of unifying love--in a strong consciousness that this is what shonld be happening between them that can bind together the members of a ~eligious community. What they are to one another, in varying degrees of knowledge, affection, and effectiveness, God is to each of them. Their awareness of and action toward one another is in their presence to and action toward God. The two relationships ideally tend to be one. If relations with fellow religious in community reveal and make concrete the relation with God, the latter, as it is realized, purifies and strengthens the former. For to live deeply in faith and bope and charity is to know that relation to God constitutes one's being and qualifies all existence. The knowledge is not merely of the mind bnt the whole person, in the Biblical sense, and conditions all other relationships, afflicted with self-inter-est as they ~nay be. Realizing this, religions can under-stand what it means to find Christ in another, or to be Christ to another, because He has said and makes it come abont that "This--person and human community--is my Body." Yet he only does so within the limits of our psy-chological capacity and free choice to make such human commnnion a reality. That is why it is important for a young woman enter-ing upon religious life to understand that it is meant to fulfill bet as a woman quite as fully and selflessly as conjugal love and motherhood fulfill a married woman. Celibacy is a condition of life that means relationship as intense as that of marriage but more extensive, for its purpose or end is different. The sacramental community of marriage propagates and nurtures, within the family, the kingdom of God, while the sacramental commnnity of celibate men or women witnesses and ministers to the ÷ ÷ ÷ Women's R~tigious Li]e VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ + Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 572 kingdom in its universal extension. But to accomplish this end the celibate woman must realize her capacities as does the married woman, and for both the fulfillment must come through commtmion with other human beings. To be what God intends her to be to man, any woman must exercise fully her power of creative love. If the woman dedicated to Christ were to be denied this, God would not be just. She undoubtedly denies herself the joy, the comfort, the strength of marital union; but she in no way denies herself womanhood. In her, then, passion must become whole, purified, and fruitful in her total surrender to Jesus Christ and in the human loves such dedication implies--love of such single-heartedness that it demands of her the devotion and selflessness that a husband and children require. And this love in her, too, is a receptivity to the strength and life that another can give in friendship. For in the life-begetting love that is the spirit of a woman, nothing can be lost or repressed. The reality of her sex, the psychology of her love, ;~re not lessened or transcended, but snbsulned in the comprehensive, effec-tive tenderness and devotion she is free to offer others. This increased and extended womanly power is the meaning of virginity. It is a power of love that does not fear, for the power is from and fruitful in God. It manifests itself, further, in ways that make celibate COllllnuual life, among equals and tinder authority, more difficult for a woman than is tile natural communal life of the family~that is, in certain ways. By natnre, a woman is receptive in human relationship, rather than aggressive; open to receive all another has to.give and desirous of giving in turn where she can be received. For a wife and mother, these qualities fulfill her when family life is normal. For a religious, when this openness and freedom are inhibited for any reason--lack of genuine comnumication or loss of self-confidence--she suffers iso-lation and can hardly relate even to one other. So com-nlunity is lost. It happens not infi'eqnently, for even while we know that we cannot live except in response to one another, we do not in any human community readily live in full responsibility for one another. That costs, and the price is oneself. To be responsible for another is to invite his pain to oneself and to accept the terms of his love, which can appear not as love but as self-defense or even aver-sion. It is to respect one another's freedom and integrity with something of the respect in which God holds us, knowing us wholly. Awareness that God's action comes in all the ways we react to one another can be traumatic and hard to accept, but can deepen faith not only in God but in the other person as well; then growth in grace is the same reality as growth in a human bond. When this identification of God's action with the action of one's sisters extends itseff in very ~nany relations in a religious community, its bonds are born at once of grace and human needs, ful-fillment, and suffering. This is the degree to which nature and grace, personal and communal fulfillment are one. Granted, it is for the most part achieved in the desire that it be so, always imperlectly in fact. But to believe that it is possible is the substance of hope, which "knows what it believes is true." Further, the bonds that unite a religious community in this way are the strict measure of the effectiveness of its apostolic service. Only insofar as the members liberate, have compassion for, and love one another can they be redemptive in their relations with others. It is as if the co~nmunity were the fruit of each member's relation to Christ, extending itself to others, just as the union of a man and woman in marriage bears fruit in the commu-nity of the family. But this creative power a woman has is love that does not grasp its object, as zeal and desire can make her do. It is the difference, in her human relation and apostolic witness and service, between a self-motivated determina-tion and a peaceful confident waiting for God's discovery in her and through her. A woman always wonders, with joy that does not obsct~re pain, at the life God brings forth in her; so this power of the life of pure faith that is virginity awakens her wonder. And that is lost when she reaches ot~t to take what she was made to receive, in discovery. Nor can the celibate woman depend, as can a married woman, upon another's singular love to support and in-spire her; hence, her radical solitude. She knows, in each human bond, that she is one of many whose relation to anotl~er reveals and re-creates that person. Making no exclusive claim, she acts with regard to another in the knowledge that any creative result will be the fruit of union with .]est~s Christ: t~ltimately His action, not her own, and this breeds a diffidence and restraint that re-spects the other's freedom and does not presume. A woman instictively knows, perhaps, that her latent power does not lie in the project and plan, in the self-confidence that acts without allowing hindrance; these are the characteristic roles of man, who rules the earth. A woman's power lies in re-creating persons, through suffer-ing what they bring to her, through freeing them from fear that they do not suffice for themselves and others. But it lies as well in the sensitivity and personal dimen-÷ + ÷ Women's VOLUME 30, 1971 573 sion she can bring to leadership and service in public actiou and institutional structures. Whatever bet role, in private and public life, as a woman is herself free, she supports and restores others. The liberation each achieves is really received, as creative grace or gift from God, through this hnman interaction. This kind of relationship is woman's natural fertility, and it matters little, so long as she is faithful, whether she realizes it through union, with a single man or as vowed solely to Jesus Christ. She must inevitably realize it in nnion with human beings--in free and unselfish love for another. But, united by vow to Jesus Christ, she is fruit-ful in darkness of faith, in freedom that does not kuow itself, and in love that cannot see what it creates. In a celibate life she cannot hold any child of her own beget-ting. III ÷ ÷ Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 574 Such considerations, theoretical as they may seem, lead to certain conclusions regardiug the structure of religious life. If this relationship of a celibate woman to Jesus Christ, realized in and determined by her relationsMp to her companions in comnmnity, is the absolute factor of religions life, then the forms and conditions of that life are wholly relative to it. N6ne of them are the end or essence of religious consecration; a woman does not give herself over to a community, nor to a way of life, nor to an apostolate. She gives /lerself to Jesus Christ in an extension and intensification of the relation of faith and hope and love in wbicl~ baptis.m established her. She is simply converted, or turned to Him wholly, in the grow-ing experience of that relationship and, like any other woman, must, if she is to be what God intends her to be, realize it at the greatest possible depth in a human com-munity. The latter, in fact, results from the relationship. That it demands a ministry of service and witness is as natural as that marriage demands of a wo~nan child-bearing and nurturing of a family. If human relatiouship and free-dora to serve as she can according to her abilities do not develop her, she can be ;i. detriment to strong communal life rather than a vital member. The natural, human, and personal dimensions of her life are not simply the base for supernatural dedication; the two are the same, when a person is sonnd and whole of body and spirit. It is out of place, then, to orientate discussion of com-munal authority, poverty, and service from the determi-nation to safeguard strnctnres--valid as they were in their origins--or values which are simply asking for new expression. An absolute end will always require certain conditions; this personal and communal relationship to .Jesus Christ demands the most stringent ones. In the family, the conditions are determined by nature: "witness, within the single dimension of a constant natnral group, to the God-man relationship, incarnated in this family in a singular time and place. Its creative, redemp-tive, and unitive acts will procreate the hufiaan and Chris-tian communities and, given man's frailty, its continuity needs guarantee and safeguard. The marriage contract is taken before and within the existing commnnity. Paren-tal authority is all-embracing in the rearing of children, and life style is highly concentrated and uniform--allow-ing for contemporary developments to the contrary. The limits of interdependence and natnral responsibilities condition freedom in day-to-day living, which has as its end the maturing of children to independence. But the conditions of celibate commnnal living are altogether different. The Incarnation of Christ i,a reli-gious commnnity is a continuing celebration of Eucha-rist: of thanksgiving that we are here together, who have come to witness to the mystery of Jesns Christ. The grace of a con~munity's sacramental value for the world is the graciousness of a Savior. More simply, perhaps, it is the manifest joy of meeting, between friends, whose presence to one another is what matters. From the start they are, or need to be, adnlts, capable of a life commitment and creative human bonds. What is absolutely necessary to the life of snch a com-munity is that the forms of communal living, of govern-ment, of anthority and responsibility, of personal and comnlunal poverty, and of apostolic service are conducive to each individual's realization of her relationship to Christ in her companions. There is no dichotomy be-tween personal and communal needs; they are one, when recognized in this context. The difficulties and suffering that attend responsibility for one another in such rela-tionship are a deeper asceticism than self-imposed forms of penance and prayer may be, for they demand thor-ough self-abnegation. Even the external practices of commnnity life, with the self-denial they entail, do not guarantee the experience of community unless they are informed by this experience of knowing and being known, in the way God knows and loves, by some few, or even one, of a religious woman's companions. The value of any given form, strnctnre, or practice is strictly determined by its contribution to the context in which each sister can freely and responsibly grow in the relationship to Christ that constitutes her life, determines her service, and produces community with her fellow reli-gious. Ironically, this relationship, spoken of as the spirit-ual life, is the growth in holiness that has been tradition- + + + Women's Religious Li[e VOLUME 30, 1971 575 + .4. Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ally held as the first end of the vows. But its psychological implications in the context of commnnal living and per-sonal fnlfillment need to be explored. It is there we can discover the common ground from which person-oriented' and commnnity-oriented concepts spring. This is not to say that the psychological needs and experiences of different generations are the same. But they can be quite different and still depend on the same values; the point is that legislation will not safeguard the commnnal values nor guarantee the personal realization here discnssed. The freedom of life style and respect for diversity of experience that such realization demands will l)e secnred by individuals, regardless of legislation that frustrates their action, and they will not consider them-selves disrespectful of authority in the taking. For their integrity and peace may, nnder certain circnmstances, de- But more important, the multidimensional natnre of the religions comnnmity demands it. Unlike the family, its end is a witness to the universality and fnlfillment of the kingdom of Christ in service that extends rather than concentrates itself. Becat,se it resnlts from the self-gift of responsible adtdts, acting nnder personal charisms, and continuing life together in daily voluntary offering, its structnre cannot be predetermined by traditions, nor can its govermnent be essentially hierarchical. To say that it is ecclesial is simply to reiterate the charismatic and communal aspects that it draws from the Church to which it is a witness. The hierarchical aspect is secondary to this, as it was in the early Chnrch. Yet it is nnlikely that strict collegiality rnled the early Christians who, even in communal living, needed strong leadership. The authority and collegiality are one in a community, when honest and educated responsibility govern its members. The evolution of the Christian com-munity and of religious commnnities, through many ages of dependence on authority, demands now much more trnst in the capacity of those in community to govern themselves. But the trust can come only from a mutual confidence that they ,~re persons committed in a common endeavor to witness to .Jesus Christ and to serve His peo-ple. The contract it religious makes by her vows is to God within this total ecclesial commnnity. It is also within a given religious community insofar as that gronp relates to the end of the Church. In a transitional age such as this one, the service a community gives within the Church must evolve even as the Chnrch's relation to the world is evolving. Hence, the evolntionary quality of any commu-nity, as the experience of its members and demands of its service cause it to change and renew itself. Flexibility of form and diversity of experience, now leadir;g to even freer forms and more varied services, actually guarantee the continuity of a religious community, if it is strong enough to change and grow within without loss of unity. Responsibility for that unity rests on each one, facing the valid and very different experience of .others with whom she lives. Past and present and future experience must he encompassed somehow, so that corn,non values and differing concepts can continue to grow together. Then varieties of life style need not threaten the unity. Latitude of practice in manner of dress, of government, of prayer life can actually guarantee the unity if the freedom allowed is not considered a concession to some kind of self-interest, or independence from the whole. Freedom then is not merely a means or condition, but an end: a liberty of spirit necessary for trne ~inity of persons in God. And authority is ,a means to it, especially when exercised by a woman. For the ultimate purpose of her power ls to assist others to the self-value that makes obedience acceptable to God. Then exercise of authority is more a ministry than a function, and can become the most creative of hnman acts and the most self-effacing. It is a woman's unique imaging of the action of God, which gives autonomy while it creates and in governance gnar-antees freedom. As in other apparent conflicts between natural and su-pernatural values, integration is the desired end. Author-ity and freedom, like celibacy and love, complement each other; the second is the fruit of the first. Whether experi-enced in counsel from one in an office of ministry, or sim-ply in friendship, the human relationship, grounded in Jesus Christ, is the sine qua non of religious community. This kind of bum:m relationship, with or without for-realities of office, can help religious women in community to come to a deeper realization of their vows. It estab-lishes obedience more firmly in the Spirit throt.,gh the depth of this htm~an dimension; it makes actual poverty the condition for simplicity of life and poverty of spirit in human relation; and celibacy, the condition of life that allows for the fullness of charity. Women's Religious Lile VOLUME ~0, 1971 577 BARBARA DENT The Mediocrity Challenge ÷ ÷ ÷ Mrs. Barbara Dent lives at 17 Piago Rd.; Clande-lands; Hamilton, New Zealand. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS God calls each human being in a unique way to come to Him. This unique way ~s that particular person's individual vocation. The quality and degree of his identi-fication with it is the measure of his powers of love, of his capacity for self-giving. Christianity has never pretended that to conform perfectly with a God-given vocation was easy. Our Lord Himself warned that anyone who compromised was not worthy of the kingdom of heaven. The foolish virgins were shut out. So was the guest without a wedding gar-ment. The man busy filling his barns died that very night under unfortunate circumstances. There was no time for a disciple to go back and bury his dead. The un-forgiving servant was "handed over to the torturers till be should pay all his debt." The house built on sand collapsed in ruins. It is human nature to hear God's call (for, after all, that is why he gave us ears), but it is also human nature to become so busy counting the possible cost that we answer with only a half-hearted murmur: "I may come--prob-ably tomorrow," or perhaps refuse: "I'm busy now for an indefinite period. Call again later." Even those who respond generously and enthusiasti-cally--" As Jesus was walking on from there he saw a man named Matthew sitting by the custom house, and he said to him, 'Follow me.' And he got up and followed him" (Mt 9:9)--seldom improve on that initial enthusiasm or even manage to maintain it. In the first fervor of dedi-cation, they are sincerely convinced that they want to make the total response, say the uncompromising yes; yet they often fail to continue through the years without surrounding that initial gift with reservations and elaborate systems of self-protection. They want to give, but their flawed human nature, played upon by the devil, forces them into mediocrity. In all the current controversy about the need and value of consecrated celibacy, the human urge to com-promise, to have one's cake and eat it too, plays its part. The argument for self-fulfillment sometimes forgets that any human being's ultimate fidfillment is in God, and therefore that whatever way of life aims straightest at God and is therefore that person's true vocation is also most designed to complete him as an individual: "The Church knows that only God, whom she serves, meets the deep-est longings of the human heart, which is never fully satisfied by what this world has to offer" (Church Today, 41). Human living provides innumerable routes to God, all of which can be the means of tmion with Christ; yet "sin has diminished man, blocking his path to fulfill-merit" (ibid. 13), and "a monumental struggle against the powers of darkness pervades the whole history of man" (ibid. 37). An element in tiffs struggle is that divided purpose which seeks to evade the .consequences of total commit-ment, and in the process often develops compromise into a fine art. However fashions change, whatever way-out forms theological speculations adopt, the call of Christ to each individual person remains the same, and its de-mand total. A true response to this call, whatever mode of life it involves, must lead to affirming with St. Paul: "For me, to live. is Christ." "The Lord is the goal of human history, the focal point of the longings of history and of civilization, the centre of the human race, the joy of every heart, and the answer to all its yearn!ngs" (ibid., 45). This is a fact of life, whatever the individual's voca-tion, celibate or married. There can be no essential self-fulfillment apart from Christ. We discover our true selves as we become those particular extensions of His incarna-tion tlmt He has chosen us to be. Any apparent fulfill-ment that occurs in alienation from Christ is spurions and dependent upon factors that chance can shatter, and t,st, ally does. Leaving aside the question of whether Christ and hu-manity are better served by a celibate or married clergy, let us look at the state of celibacy itself, whether in priest, religious, or lay person, male or female, and assess some of the ways in which it is subject to the mediocrity chal-lenge. No one can realize the full implications of the promise or vow of celibacy at the time of making it (lust as no marriage parmer can, on his wedding day, assess the im-plications of his vows). The vow is made as the formal seal of the gift of one's whole self and life to Christ in response to His call. ÷ ÷ 4- Mediocrity = VOLUME 30, 1971 579 + ÷ 4. Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 580 It is in the subsequent living of the vow that its impli-cations are gradually made clear, so that one either as-sents more and mote deeply to them, relying more and more fully npon grace, or withdraws,' aghast, and com-promises, giving in before thb mediocrity challenge. Consecrated celibacy is a way of life, and a vocation, freely chosen as a positive good because intuited as one's personal rotate to God ordained by Him. The service of God and the service of humanity are inseparable. There- [ore, to travel courageously along this route for love of God is also to love one's neighbor. To be consecrated as a celibate is to become in a publicly recognized way Christ's man, Christ's woman, pledged to participate in the Savior's redemptive work, answering the call to total love for the sake of others in an all-embracive sense. In other words, the consecrated celibate is directly dedicated to the building tip of Christ's kingdom without deviation or withdrawal, to the bringing forth of spiritual children for God in eternity, instead of children of the ttesh for this world. Any route to God is straight and narrow with Calvary an inseparable part of it. The married state is no easier than the celibate state i[ it is entered into as one's pe-culiar and God-indicated route to Him. Of course this is often not the case, whereas the celibate's choice is usually a deliberate and conscious dedication to Christ first and foremost. The total love that consecrated celibacy demands is in-carnated in Christ Himself, and only in Christ. It can ex-press itself through human lives when infused into them as an extension of the divine life itself, those living wa-ters, that indwelling of the Trinity, that our Lord prom-ised to those who love Him. It means a passionate, un-compromising involvement of the whole self with the whole self of the personal, living, triumphant yet glori-ously wounded risen Lord. This entails becoming "a fragrant offering and a sacri-fice to God" (Eph 5:2) because incorporated into the sacrificial love-offering of the Son, made for the sake of humanity, to the greater glory of the Father. Human nature, disintegrated and flawed as it is, nat-urally fears such complete involvement with both God and man. We want to preserve intact the ego with all its intra-venous systems for feeding self-satisfaction and self-pres-ervation. We cannot help fearing and repelling such an invasion of the Other, although without it the enchained ego cannot be released into the freedom of the sons of God. We tare prisoners who have become dependent upon the enclosure of our cell walls for our sense of security. Just :is the trumpet blast shattered the walls of Jericho, so would the blowing of the Holy Spirit upon our pitiful ramparts raze them finally--if we let it: "For he bursts the gates of bronze and shatters the iron bars" (Ps 106:16). We recoil from even the thought of encouraging such invasion. The ego is certain it would mean disaster. Its instinct for preservation rebels against the dissolution of its barriers. Such fears are involuntary. Tbey are part of the com-plex defense mechanism against God that is I~orn with us in onr flawed human nature. We cannot help our myopic way of looking at things, our instinctive reaching out for half-truths, our intense anxiety at being taken over by God, our dread of Him as an alien, destructive force instead of our loving, eternal Father. What is required of ns is the calm recognition of all such systems of evasion, and the willed construction in the power of divine grace of contrary systems of encour-agement. We are called upon by God to recognize the insidious nature of the temptation to mediocrity, of the urge to compromise. We have to counter it by persistent prayer for His help, by the will to give and receive all, and by actions which express that will: I believe nothing can happen that will outweigh the su-preme adwlntage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Christ and be given a place in him . All I want is to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and to share his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death (Phil 3:8,10). This must be what we consciously will in opposition to our involuntary desires and schemings to retain our walls, to refuse "the loss of everything." The temptation to mediocrity is essentially the tempta-tion to choose comfort. It is a special danger to the celi-bate whose vows and way of life can insulate him lrom involvement with others, from all those battering, in-vigorating, stress-provoking, exacerbating and fecundat-ing fluctnations of give and take that are inseparable from married and family life. It is necessary to remember always that consecrated celibacy has been chosen not in order to evade or be spared these, but to facilitate an even wider, deeper, and more selfless involvement with the human family itself. It should lead not to a peaceful withdrawal and the COln-forts of a serene bacbelorbood or spinsterdom, but to an nnending and painfnl generation and parturition of children for the kingdom of heaven: My children, I must go through the pain of giving birth to you all over again, until Christ is formed inyou (Gal 4:19). The mystery is Christ among you, your hope of glory . It is ÷ Mediocrity VOLUME 30, !971 581 4" + + Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 582 for this I struggle wearily on, helped only by his power driving me irresistibly (Col 1:27,29). Like a mother feeding and looking after her own children, we felt so devoted and protective towards you, and had come to love you so much, that we were eager to hand over to you not only the Good News but our whole lives as well (1 Thes 2:8). The danger of celibacy is not sexual pressure building up to possible transgression level, but tile evasion of tension, stress, and battles in favor of ~omfort and safety. This can lead to petrification, through repression or cir-cumvention, of a person's whole affective powers. The personality becomes sterile, dehydrated, protected by a complex system of evasions and compromise, the real person who was meant to be reborn into Christ through total dedication and "undivided attention to the Lord" (! Cor 7:35) gone to earth from sheer lack of encourage-ment. Alternatively, the affective powers, instead of being stifled, may be diverted. Theu the celibate's life and pas-sion become centred on snbstitutes--liturgical niceties,. research, art, administration, power, antiqnes, aesthetics, sport, animals, relatives, or one other particular person. They may even become fixated on some such mundane and irreligious activity (if lie is a secular priest, for ex-ample, and free to follow it) as golf, racing, or dog-breed-ing. Or his passion may become raising monuments ostensibly to the glory of C, od but perhaps more to per-petnate his own memory (in lieu of sons and daughters of the flesh) if all hidden motives were made plain. The temptations to compromise over the demands of total love are ~nany and dangerous. The celibate is perhaps more open to them than the person whose vocation is marriage. In marriage, if it is a dedicated Christian one, total love is also demanded, but its channel is tile mar-riage partner, there in the flesh, obvious, defined and inescapable. For the celibate tile channel, being the hu-man family loved and served in, for, and by means of Christ, is much more easily mistaken, or silted up, or wrongly labeled, or simply ignored just because it is so ubi(jtfitous. The htunan family means not some nebulous abstract, but real persons whose abrasive presence anti perpetual demands cannot, and are not meant to be, evaded. In all cases it is people, individuals, persons, actnal living, pal-pitating entities who cannot be avoided, and who must be made contact with in some fructifying way if Christ is to be served and honored, if celibate love is to be fnl-filled. The whole of humanity is one organism, and this orga-nism is the Body of Christ in the process of being incar-nated. Through it we are meant to confer the sacrament of love upon one another. Through it we can, on the con-trary, by hate and sin shut off ourselves and others from participating in this sacrament of love. The consecrated celibate has cbosen by his vow to be a means of conferring the sacrament of love upon others. His role is to be a visible, actual sign that God's tender care and solicitous yearning for us is present among us, to be a reservoir of the living waters laid up in human hearts. The temptation to mediocrity suggests that this reser-voir be turned into a stagnant lake of sel~-enclosure by blocking off the Ebannels by which God's love pours into it and the outlets that are meant to pour it out again upon others. In time the whole place becomes "a fen of stagnant waters," with the affective powers choked: "They have abandoned me, the fountain of living waters, only to dig cisterns for themselves, leaky cisterns, that hokl no water" (Jer 2:13). To dig a cistern for oneself means to construct it with the intention of not sharing it with others. One form the temptation takes is that of doubts about the value of celibacy itself together with all kinds of rationalizations concerning the importance of human sexual relationships and of the need to experience them in order to be a whole person, in order even to be able to tmderstand others. Excuses are readily found for reading the kinds of books, watching the kinds of films, and encouraging the kinds of conversations that titillate and provide disguised --and not so disguised--sexual enjoyments.Iustifiable and necessary reverence for sex and acknowledgement 'of its power and wide ramifications give way to obsessive interest in its minutiae and manner of functioning. When snch a mental invasion has been encot, raged, the borderline between legitimate attainment of information and committing adnltery in one's heart has become blurred. The whole ideal of consecrated celibacy is in danger of becoming meaningless, and it will probably not be long before convincing excnses are found to abandon it. Also evident where mediocrity threatens is the "one for you, and one for me" trading mentality. The celibate considers that in .return for his gift of himself to God, God owes him certain satisfactions, comforts, consolations, snccesses, recognitions, rewards. If he does not get what he believes is his due he becomes sour, bitter, self-pitying, cynical, savagely critical (perhaps of the Chnrch as "a juridical institution"). He is a disappointed man who feels he has not been wdued and recognized at his true worth, and someone or something must be made to suffer for it. ÷ 4- ÷ /tlediocrity VOLUME 30, 1971 Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 He has forgotten that the initial total gift of self to God was a form of interchange by which he accepted in return, and unquestioningly, whatever God chose to give him. Total love means embracing what God gives, and lets happen as the token of His loving kindness and the means of both one's salvation and sanctification, and also one's redemptive work for others. There is no barter involved. God gives. We accept, welcome, absorb, in faith and loving trust. There can be heroism here, unavoidable majesty of selflessness that can register on the ego as its contrary-- humiliation, defeat, squirming self-seeking. God's gifts and their effects are often paradoxical, and recognized as good qnly by means of faith. The "one for you, one for me" temptation is aimed at making one repndiate or avoid suffering and that death o~ self, that burying of the seed in the dark tomb of the earth fi'om which alone can emerge the risen self in the power of Christ's own Resurrection, and hence the crown-ing of total love. It is well to remember that "God's gift was not a spirit of timidity, but the Spirit of power, and love, and self-control" (2 Tim 1:7). There is also the temptation to succumb to mediocrity in personal relationships, avoiding intimacy and the pain of self-revelation and of receiving the confessions and love of others. In such relationships honesty is avoided in favor of polite half-trnths, soothing evasions, and surface agreements, these being rationalized as kindness or even Christian charity. Those blinding moments of truth in which we acknowledge how we use others (and they us), how we are run by our mechanisms of self-interest by which we feed secretly on those we profess to love most sincerely, are repndiated. Instead are chosen the sly pre-varications that assure us we are good mixers and not the type to give offense to anyone, and that this is the best way to he. Mediocrity can also be succumbed to in our relation-ship with ourselves. We have to love ourselves as God loves us, but this does not mean self-indulgently excusing ourselves. Rather it involves a pitiless self-honesty in which we pray fervently for the grace to face ourselves as we are. "My God, beware of Philip, else he will betray yon," prayed St. Philip Neri; and St. Paul saw with searing clarity his inability to do the good that he wanted to do unless he relied entirely upon the "grace of God." Consecrated celibacy with its vocation to total love means there can be no mediocrity regarding self-knowl-edge. If the truth that God offers, together with the grace to bear it, is accepted when and how He offers it, the ntmost interior humiliation is inevitable. Christ sets out to invade and permeate the life and the person dedicated to Him, and this means progressive insight into the un-christed self down to its demon-haunted depths. These depths have to be cleansed in what has aptly been called the "passive purgations," to' submit to which requires both a torrent of grace and heroic courage. It means the painful relinquishment of all masks, all comforting illusions, all evasions of reality, all dramas, all role-playing. Christ is truth. He is also light. Where He is, lies and darkness cannot also be; yet the unredeemed per-sonality is steeped in these. Total love becomes a reality only when heroic courage has refused the temptation to mediocrity in one's relation with onself, to choose instead Christ's invasion and powers of transformation at what-ever cost to oneself: If any man come to me without hating his father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, yes and his own life too, he cannot be my disciple. Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple (Lk 14:26-7). The mediocrity temptation also presents itseff as one to self-cosseting. Having renounced all the comforts of home life and the consolations of marriage, one has a right to pamper oneself a little here and there by way of compensation. There are legitimate pleasures, necessary relaxations, prudent concessions to one's own acknowl-edged weaknesses. The danger is when these are indulged in as a result of self-pity or a desire to make up to oneself for rennnciations once made but now secretly hankeretl after or envied in others. In other words, when we seek substitnte satisfactions for what is denied to us because of celibacy and the vocation to total love, we are compro-mising with that vocation. An old name for mediocrity is acedia, or spiritnal sloth. There is an old-fashioned ring about these terms which inclines some to dismiss them and what they stand for as irrelevant to modern life and post-Vatican II spiritnality. Yet Vatican II documents themselves affirm the ancient call to total love, and hence to a war against all forms of mediocrity: The followers of Christ are called by God, not according to their accomplishments, but according to his own purpose and grace . All the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity (Church, 40). Hence the more ardently they unite themselves to Christ through a self-surrender involving their entire lives, the more vigorous becomes the life of the Church and the more abun-dantly her apostolate bears fruit (Religious Life, 1). Through virginity or celibacy observed for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, priests are consecrated to Christ in a new and distinguished way. They more easily hold fast to him with undivided heart. They more freely devote themselves in him 4- ÷ Mediocrity "VOLUME 30, 3.971 585 and through him to the service of God and man. They more readily minister to his kingdom and to the work of heavenly regeneration, and thus become more apt to exercise paternity in Christ, and do so to a greater extent (Priests, 16). Consecrated celibacy as a route to God can never be-come out of date because Christ will always remain the way, the truth, and the life, and intimate union with Him will always be a human being's highest form of fulfillment. The vocation to celibacy is a vocation to direct embrace-ment with the Bridegroom for the sake of the kingdom He became incarnate to establish. Those called to such a vocation are called also to total love of God and man and to an heroic battle against all temptations to mediocrity. God provides with the vocation all the graces necessary to endure and defeat these temptations, even when it ap-pears subjectively that failure is all that is achieved: The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows perfectly well what he means, and that the pleas of the saints expressed by the Spirit are according to the mind of God. We know that by turning everything to their good God co-operates with all those who love him, with all those that he has called according to his purpose. They are the ones he chose specially long ago and intended to become true images of his Son, so that his Son might be the eldest of many brothers. He called those intended for this; those he called he justified, and with those he justified he shared his glory (Rm 8:28-30). Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 SISTER MARY SERAPHIM, P.C.P.A. Living Creatively under Stress Stress, tensions, pressnres all tug and pull at ns day in and day out. We get up in the morning with a sense of having spent the whole night rnnning and getting no-where. Urgency clogs our steps. Clocks tick inexorably at us, staring clown from walls, peering up from dash boards, glowing in the clark on our wrists. Appointments, assignments, schedtdes rtde our clay and haunt our nights. Even when we manage to salvage a 15it of "free time," we spend it worrying whether we could not put it to more profitable use. This phenomenon of twentieth century living has provoked much discussion lately. Techniques for relaxing, drugs to tranquillize our shattered nervous system, systems of yoga and zen to lift us out of the present into a timeless nirvana glnt the common market. Despite this proliferation, I offer a few more insights, this time based on the experience of cloistered contemplative liv-ing, which might be of interest and assistance to us Chris-tians of pressurized society. Yon may have noticed that I said "us" of pressurized society, for cloistered ntms are just as apt to be canght in the bind of too "nauchwork" and not "enonghtime" as the rest of the human race. How then can a person who senses that life is meant for something more than just "to get things clone" work creatively within this fleeting thing called time? How can we escape the pressure to "do" in order to simply "be"? As most of ns have already discovered tension results, not from all the demands made upon us frorrtowithout, bnt from the pressures we generate w~thm Stress-~s not an evil in itself. It actually constitutes ~-positive good when it serves as a prod to move us to higher achieve-merits. The meeting and surmounting of difficulties is the normal process which leads to maturity. Most of the great inventions of the world would not have been discovered 4- 4- + Sister M. Sera-phim, P.C.P.A., is a member of Sancta Clara Monastery; 4200 Market Ave-nue N.; Canton, Ohio 44714. VOLUME 30, 1971 587 Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RE/I~II00S 588 unless there had been a need to overcome some inconven-ience or obstacle. Many of the great masterpieces of art, literature, and music might never have been executed had not the artist been forced by some circumstance to plumb the depth of his genius. Stress and difficulties have their positive side then; and we should not expect them to be totally absent from our lives, any more than we should, as Christians, expect the cross hot to cast its shadow across our days. The handling of the problem of stress can be ap-proached from many angles, such as the psychological, the sociological, the anthropological. However, I propose to utilize a more theological dimension without overlook-ing the necessity of integrating theological ideals with practical psychological data. Supernature and Nature As we know, grace builds on nature. Supernature is simply a highly developed, highly gifted operation which has its seat in our natural faculties. To be in a position to insure steady spiritual growth our natural faculties must be in as good working order as possible. Much insistence is laid today on the necessity of healthful and happy climates in our religious houses. The human in the conse-crated man or woman must be given consideration so that the whole person progresses in holiness. We have shifted from an overemphasis on the divine and spiritual aspect of our religious life to an almost exaggerated con-cern with the mundane and bodily elements in our daily existence. The movement away from a purely spiritual concept of religion was a necessary one. If we divorce our soul from its intrinsic relationship with our body, we are in clanger of becoming split-level creatures. We would end in the neurotic condition of perpetually ascending and descend-ing the staircase between onr "higher" mode of living and our "lower" bodily state of existing. Afraid to remain on only the lower plane, yet unable to live perpetually on the higher one, we would literally live on the stairway--a most unnatural and unrestful state of affair!! Now that we have acknowledged that we must stand firmly rooted on the ground-level of our huma.nity if we are to stretch our branches high, we must beware of spending too mnch time mulching the soil and preparing the proper amount of water and sunshine. It is undenia-bly true that good environment contributes heavily to the full development of the human creature. Yet if most of us are honest we must recognize that the majority of persons realize their finest potential when facing adverse condi-tions. Furthermore we know that there exists nowhere on earth a paradise of idyllic situations. To look for it is useless or to try to develop it will prove fruitless. We could spend a lifetime looking for the perfect siti~ation in which we could become our true selves. Since such a solution to the problem of stress and tension is chimeri-cal, we might do well to accept our present situation with its good and its bad and try to work creatively within it. I submit that if we can order our inner (spiritual) life to fnnction harmoniously with our "outer" life, we will have reduced the stress and tension in our days to a minimum. We Are Not God First of all, let us humbly admit that we are not God. We do not know the complete plan for our own exist-ence, much less that of others or of society as a whole. Obliged to work with only partial knowledge, we are not responsible for the barmonions ordering of the universe. Although as Christians we do have a responsibility to each and everyone of our fellowmen, yet as finite crea-tures our personal response is not expected to reach all of tfiem directly. Much which goes on in the world cannot and even should not be solved by us personally. We are asked to do what lays before ns to the best of our ability, nothing more. Does this sound like mere selfishness? Or simply common sense? Actually it can become very uncommon sense when we view it in God's perspective. He has a plan and a work for each one of ns. He weighed it beforehand to meet our limited strength. He measured our capacities to make sure they were adequate for the task at band. He is very careful not to ask more of us than He knows we are able to do. Why should we strive against Him and demand that we take care of situations and solve problems which are beyond our scope? Humility can be a very restful virtue. It teaches us to recognize what we are and what we are not. With its clear vision, we see our talents an~.l we recognize our limita-tions. We learn to look up to God for strength and for wisdom. The bumble man goes peaceftilly about his as-signed job and usually is able to make a good success of it because be does not waste a lot of psychic energy attempt-ing to solve difficulties that are not his to solve. He leaves all that is beyond his immediate scope to God's provi-dence. This does not mean, however, that he does not care. On the contrary, the person who really lives in the faith of God's guiding hand in the nniverse will care more effectively than many others who become so caught up in their own plans for reforming the world that they see nothing but themselves. ÷ ÷ ÷ Living Creatively VOLUME 30, 19T1 589 + 4. 4. Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 590 Power and Splendor We cannot help becoming immersed to the point of being enmeshed by our everyday problems if we concen-trate all our attention only on them. If we permit our prayer life to consist merely of begging God's assistance for the project in hand, it will be difficult to rednce the problems involved to manageable size because we will have magnified them to the point where they and God are the only realities in the universe. Instead we might do well to devote a good portion of our personal prayer time to considering the magnificence of God as He is in Him-self. If even for a fleeting, breathtaking moment we sense the grandeur and greatness of this Being whom we ad-dress as our Father, a moral earthquake occurs in our portion of the Lord's vineyard. Problems and vexations sink nearly out of sight for the time being and the ground we stand on raises us startlingly near to the stars. Huge becomes tlm universe, immense the (limensions of God's activity and small, very small onr share in this cosmic pageant. Such an intuition does not destroy our appreciation of the little things of life but rather enables ns to see them in their proper perspective. In such a setting their true beauty and value shine forth. We are free to "be" among all these encompassing wonders for inwardly we have expanded to the degree where we now encompass them. We learn to support the "horizontal" with the "vertical." St. Benedict, it is said, once saw the whole universe in a single ray of light. "How conld a man see all creation in one glance?" asked St. Gregory in his Dialogues and he answered himself: "He who sees God sees all things in Him." Do you perceive how integrating such an attitude can be and how beneficial to us as human beings if we culti-vate it? Tensions and difficnlties we meet will not become too large for us to handle and even nse creatively. With our minds free and onr energies concentrated fully on the task at band, we will bring to our work fresh insights and profound wisdom. New sources of energy will be released as we meet new obstacles. Instead of mentally attempting it all ourselves, we will take it to the Lord whose strength we know is equal to the task. While laying the bnrden of worry at His feet, we will be enabled to stand light and free before Him. God will grow greater and greater in our estimation and our problems proportionately smaller. When we attack the difficult situation which cannot be avoided we will be able to experience the tug and pull of contrary tensions without being shattered or torn apart. We will move in the conscious awareness that a power greater than our owu is at work here. That power, that strength, is a Person. It is a Person whom we profoundly love and whose Presence is onr supreme joy: "The joy of the Lord is our strength." An-other way of expressing this phenomenon is to call it growth in contemplative awareness. ~te utilize the prob-lems of the "lower story" to call down the assets of the "tipper story" of onr nature. XYe grow in stature so as to live spiritnally in the midst of materialities. All of this requires time and . tension. Until tension enters onr lives, we feel no need to become more than what we are. Until we find ourselves under the pressure of more than we can do, we will not experience the necessity of throw-ing ourselves on our knees before our sovereign Lord and looking humbly to His greatness. When His aid is vonchsafed, we shonld remain humble enough to use it in the manner He intended. A marvelons freedom marks the man who knows, in the roots of his being, that he is only the custodian and dispenser of the creative energy of ahnighty God. This man appears to accomplish tremen-dous things with serene ease. We do not know for certain but can gness that in the depths of his spirit, this man kneels in constant and hnmble supplication before His Lord. Before the shrine of this overmastering Presence, lie knows himself as nothing. In the light of this over-whelming Love, he knows himself heloved. In the strength of such love, nothing is impossible. Hope is in-vincible. Hope The virtue of hope here manifests itself as the trnst to leave the past and the future in God's hands. If we strive to live only here and now, we can eliminate much of the artificial stress which stretches our days beyond the limits of their twenty-four bonrs. How often have we not wor-ried ourselves into a stew abont possibilities which never materialized? Again, how frequently have we not fretted ourselves thin over past events which nothing can change now? The hope which is strong enough to le~ve the p~st to God's mercy, the future to His providence, and the present to His wisdomis a marvelous help to relaxed and fruitfnl living. We do not develop such hope overnight. Indeed we need many "nights," often painfully dark, be-fore our hope is refined to snch perfection. If we can view the dit:ficulties created in ourselves by tensions as so many stepping stones to hope, we have begun to work creatively with one of the most fi'ustrating aspects of our lives. We would like to be persons who do ~lot feel tension, who do not experience nerves, to whom nothing is a serious threat. But the more we strive to deny the deadening effects of anxiety and nervonsness in ourselves, the worse it becomes. We are humiliated by the 4- 4- 4- Living Creatively VOLUME 30, 1971 + + + Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 592 outward manifestations of our inner inadeqnacies. In-stead of humbly recognizing our human needs, we try even harder to suppress them. One (lay, however, we are forced to admit that we are practically "nnglned" and barely holding our sbattet~fd self togetber with rapidly weakening will power. Hopefully, such awareness occurs long before serious neurotic disturbances take over. We are still capable of being the master of our ship if we look to another to be the Captain. Quietly accepting the fact that tensions will wreck havoc with onr digestive or nervous or muscular system, we are in a position to work with them creatively. Reality recognized hecomes a pliable instrument in the hands of a thinking man. Reality unrecognized becomes a demon in the closet of the unconscions man. We need help to come to such recognition--God's help. He is the One who made us with these peculiar tendencies and weak-nesses. He Mone knows how ~'e are to work with them to accomplish His ends. Our task is not to augment ~the problem with useless imaginings. Tomorrow will bring its own problems., and its own solutions. Perhaps this interweaving of common sense and snper-natnral motives into a harmonious whole does not seem an extremely new or exciting solntion to. the problem of living creatively under stress. Yet it has proved a very workable one in the environment of the cloister. Few persons live in a situation so fraught with artificial ten-sions aud i,~grown perspectives as the cloistered nun. These dangers are what may be termed the "occupational hazards" of cloistered living. They are not reasons for dissolving cloisters, however! Almost any occupation, if it is worthwhile, carries with it certain hazards. The diffi-culties of living a celibate and consecrated life in the active religious orders are not valid reasons for doing away with religious life in the Church. Rather these very hazards can prove to be a most provocative challenge to yonng idealists. If we keep our vision broad and our feet steadfastly on ascending paths, the dangers will threaten bnt not overwhehn ns. Beauty One of the most closely allied natnral and snpernat-ural activities is the contemplation of beatlty. Beauty excites the noblest aspirations of human nature. On the natural plane, familiarity with beauty refines and purifies our sensitivities. We find in its contemplation a peculiar rest and contentment. Yet it rarely satiates. We forever bnnger for more. Onr thirst is ultimately for Beauty itself --the splendor of the undimnaed attractiveness of tbe Trinne God. God has placed in our souls a capacity for infinite loveliness. The passing beanties of this earth wound our sensibilities, with their constant fading and withering, instinctively we know that beauty is meant to last forever. To grow into a "see-er" of beauty is to de-velop a capacity for mystical contemplation. The hair-breadth line which separates them is easily and naturally crossed. If all human beings are made to respond to beauty, women are especially endowed with this reflective faculty. As Father Bernard H~ring remarks, "I think that women have a distinctive sense [or beauty in their spirituality. The great beauty of all created things consists in their being the language of a personal God" (Acting on the Word). Since women naturally "personalize" all the "things" they encounter, they spontaneonsly apprehend beauty as the speaking of the Beloved. The words may be mysterious but the Voice is well known. Development of our capacity for the appreciation of beauty does not reqnire special training. It only asks for time. Somehow we must learn to "take time for the good things of life." Instead of pressuring ourselves with a perpetual motion precept we should condition ourselves to moments of tranqnil stillness. We should strive to see time as primarily space in which to "be." Be what? Be ourselves. We discover who we are by becoming aware of our actions and reactions to persons, things, and events. If we foster the reaction of silent admiration before any source of loveliness, our contemplative self grows stronger. A new phenomenon unfolds within us. For a tiny moment there is silence--a quiet space in our spirit where we are nndistractedly absorbed in the immediacy of beauty. X,\re savor the loveliness of the moment and discover we are side by side, if not face to face, with eternal Beauty. If this quiet space within onr spirit is permitted to expand, it soon penetrates our exterior activity. Others become aware of a mysterious dimension in our personal-ity which attracts them. We exhibit a marked serenity and freedom. Whenever we find ourselves in situations of tension, we can more easily cope with them becanse of an inner strength fostered by habitually striving to integrate the transcendent with the mundane. This is not an unreal existence divorced from the concrete circumstances of our life. Rather it could very accurately be termed the "im-manent" level for we learn to penetrate to the deepest (and most beautiful) realities of all the surface phenom-ena we meet. Contemplative living is the result of striv-ing for h;fl)itual attentiveness to natural beauties. In the cloistered contemplative life, beauty plays an extremely important role. Much rethinking should be done in this area. Education to the appreciation of good art is of only minor ir.,portance. The more important 4- 4- 4- Living Creatively VOLUME 30, 1971 593 thrust should be towards the recognition of deeper and more lasting loveliness hidden in every atom of creation. The contemplative is a person who withdraws from the world only to view it more comprehensively. Such a one distances himself from worldly turmoil in order to pene-trate its inner significance. His should be a thoroughly optimistic, thoroughly Christian outlook. The fleetingness of beauty teaches him forcefully that man is only a pilgrim on earth. The infinite longing of his spirit for beauty proves to him the necessity of an everlasting Loveliness. Made for eternal splendors, finite man is forever restless in time. He longs for the repose of unchanging possession. Freed from the impossible task of finding complete fulfillment in the present situation, he experiences no false tensions. Set loose from the obsession that he must order the universe aright, he does not writhe in the stress of too little time and too much work. He pauses momentarily before the passing beauties of time and permits them to enkindle his spirit with the desire of everlasting splendors. Then freely, gaily he walks on, bearing the burdens of mankind but lightly for the joy of the promise set before him. 4- 4- 4- Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RELI{~IOUS 59,t CHRISTOPHER KIESLING, O.P. Celibacy, Friendship, and Prayer In recent decades, and especially since Vatican Council II, the potentialities of marriage for holiness and prayer have gained the attention of many Christians. Young peo-ple desirous of following Christ closely are less inclined to enter religious life or the priesthood. They are apt to choose a more adventurous following of Christ to holi-ness through the largely uncharted land of marriage. Many already living the celibate life wonder whether they have chosen the "better" way to holiness after all. In marriage they could have the natural fulfillment of their God-given sexuality and at the same time zealonsly follow Christ. Marriage, no doubt, complicates the following of Christ, but the history of the priesthood and religious life in the centuries of the Cht~rch's existence testifies that celibacy by. no means guarantees a Christlike life. Mar-riage, moreover, in daily care for spouse and children, provides many opportunities for growth in charity. As far as prayer is concerned, no intrinsic incompatibility exists between marriage and prayer; in fact, marriage offers many spurs to growth in prayer. The celibate life, on the other hand, certainly does not automatically produce a deep life of prayer. What, then, is the value of the celibate life for prayer? What potentialities for growth in prayer are found in celibacy? The question is not whether celibate life is better for prayer than married life, or the single state, or widow-hood. No attempt is being made here to discover possibil-ities for prayer in the celibate life superior to the possibil-ities in any other state of life. Each state of life has its own opportunities for growth in prayer, and any at-tempts to compare the opportunities of celibacy with those of any other state will always be limited and ulti-mately of little practical value. Comparisons fail because + ÷ Christopher Kies-ling, O.P., is a fac-ulty member of Aquinas Institute School of Theology in Dubuque, Iowa 52001. VOLUME 30, 1971 595 C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,596 they imply some standard of judgment, for example, free-dom from family demands and concerns. In this perspec-tive, celibacy has an adwmtage over marriage in regard to prayer, for the celibate has more time free from family claims and few, if any, family responsibilities to occupy his thonghts. But another standard of jndgment may be awareness of the needs of others which prompts one to pray. By this norm, a husband or wife, a father or mother, has an advantage over the celibate, for the bonds of marriage and parenthood make oue especially sensitive to the needs of at least a few persons for whom one is inspired to pray. Comparisons fail also because generali-zations abont life are open to many concrete exceptions. In coutrast to the generalizations made above, some older married people have more time and freedom for prayer than celibates who are teaching, and some celibates are more sensitive to the needs of others tban some married people. So the concern here is not to prove that the celibate is in a better position to grow in prayer than the person who is in some other state of life. It is not even of con-cern whether the possibilities for prayer in the celibate life are unique to it. The aim is simply to explore the opportunities for prayer given in the celibate life, so that celibates may exploit them fully. The discernment and exploitation of the potentialities for prayer in other states of life is preferably done by those living in them. The question is not co~lceived, moreover, as a search for a reason why someone should.choose the celibate life or remain faithful to it. The inquiry is regarded, rather, as a help to those inclined or commited to celibacy, so that they may take advautage of the gift which God has given tbena or now offers them. The celibate life is not the product of reasoning. Celi-bates are a fact in the history of the Church up to this moment. These men and women have entered upon, and continue in, this way of life for many reasons of a per-sonal nature, rather than from any theoreti'cal ideas abont the valne of celibacy. Temperament, character for-mation, family life, environment, edu.cation, interests and talents, particular interpersonal relationships, and uniqne interior experiences explain their celibate lives. When initially inclined to this state of life, or after adopting it, they undoubtedly welcome theoretical ideas about its value to legitimize or justify their choice. But the motives for their choice are much more complex and deeply buried in individnal history than any rational justifications. The believing Christian, of conrse, sees a religious meaning in all these factors: they fall under the loving care of a provident God and constitute a divine vocation to the celibate life. That life is ultimately a charism, a gift, from God. Without His call realized in personal history, there is no authentically religious celibate life. The inspiration of the celibate life is the Holy Spirit calling one through one's personal history, not some ra-tional demonstration of the superiority of the celibate state over other states of life. Celibacy is a mysterious gift. The aim here, therefore, is to explore the potentialities for prayer in a state of life ,~hich many find God has already given to them, or which many feel God wishes to give to them. For the success of that God-given life, at whatever stage it is, the exploitation of its potentialities is imperative, and particularly its possibilities for growth in prayer. Having put one's hand to the plow (or having reached toward it), and perhaps even having pushed it partly across the field of life, one does not wish to be looking back to weigh the advantages of this state of life against those of another state; one wishes, rather, to get busy actualizing the potentialities for prayer in the life which God has already given or begnn. The potentialities of celibacy for growth in prayer may be seen as residing radically in celibacy's exclusion from one's life of an intimate companion such as one has in a marriage partner. The celibate may indeed have very close friends, bnt the closeness of friends is not the same as the intimacy of marriage. He will not have some one person with whom be shares, in mutual loyalty, a joint responsibility and care for the development of life, fam-ily, and the world in fulfillment of God's vocation to mankind. He will not have another person closely united to him in daily life to alleviate the loneliness which haunts human beings. He will not have someone at hand whose fidelity be can count on, with whom he can frankly talk over many of Iris worries, aspirations, and satisfac-tions, and in whose presence he can be himself, setting aside the masks he must wear and the roles he must play in business and society. Nor will he have some one person for whom he can create and build and provide, whom he can cherish and protect, knowing that his care and con-cern are welcomed and appreciated. And of course he will have no one with whom he can express all his powers of love, including the physical,t This description of what a wife provides for her hns-band may sound romantic rather than realistic, or indica-tive of neurotic needs in the husband. We do not wish to be romantic about what marriage provides. Marriage is fundamentally an arrangement for living in which man a These reflections are cast in terms of the male celibate because that is the experience which the author knows from the inside, so to speak. What is said, however, will be applicable, with appropriate "adjustments, to the celibate woman. + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 597 + + + C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 598 and woman can have the full natural development of their sexed humanity.2 Marriage, more6ver, is more likely to be successful and happy if the partners are not merely satisfying subjective needs by means of one another but, being somewhat matnre, secnre, and capable of standing on their own feet, are free to care for one another's welfare? What we wish to note by this description of what a wife provides for her husband is tbat his life is enriched by intimate companionship with another per-son. To say that in marriage one's life is enriched by an-other person does not mean that a marriage partner is a crutch for personal weaknesses or a pleasant bnt unim-portant trimming added to one's life. What the marriage partner provides is essential for personal matnrity. A common theme of contemporary psychology, psychiatry, and philosophy is that to become mature persons we mtlSt interact with other persons, and mnst even have some intimate relationships with others. 0nly through interaction with other persons, and through some inti-mate interactions, do we come to awareness of our own unique selves with our pecldilu" qnalities, good, bad, and indifferent. Only through such interaction do we learn to master our constructive and aggressive drives and direct them to personally and socially beneficial goals. Through interpersonal relationships we acquire that freedom of self-possession which is characteristic of man. So a mar-riage partner provides, not a supplement for personal inadequacies or for pleasanmess of life, but a comple-ment necessary for the achievement of personal maturity. Briefly, to be mature persons we need other persons in our lives and even some intinaacy with others. For most men and women this need is supplied largely, though not necessarily exclnsively, by naarriage. The celibate, how-ever, excludes marriage from his life and thereby ex-clndes the common means of developing personal matu-rity. Herein lies both the peril and the opportunity of the celibate life. If the celibate's potentialities for personal matm'ity are unfnlfilled, lie will become a dull non-en-tity, if not a disgruntled, nenrotic, nnltappy person. If these potentialities are not sublimated, he will be in-clined to abandon the celibate life for marriage. The celibate must have other persons in his life, even inti-mately, if lie is to become a mature person and give himself its a full human being to God. Where will lie find these other persons? He will find them in friendships, first of all with God 2Sce Aron Krich with Sam Blum, "Marriage and the Mystique of Romancc," Redbook, November 1970, p. 123. sScc Erich Fromm, The Art o[ Loving (New York: Bantam, 1963), p. 17. the Father, His incarnate Son, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, and then also with other human beings. Intimate friendship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit will be realized in prayer, and friendships with people will ma-ture in prayer. Thus celibacy, by excluding an intimate relationship with another person such as one has in mar-riage, yet leaving the need for personal relationships and even some intimacy, creates two great potentialities for prayer: the potentiality for prayer in the need to develop intimate friendship with the three divine Persons of the Trinity, and the potentiality for prayer in the need to develop friendships with people. Celibacy creates in one's life a vact~um which craves to be filled. For a mature personality, for happiness, and for a truly successful celi- I)ate life, the wise celibate fills this vacuum with intimate personal relations to the F:tther, Son, and Spirit and with hun~an friendships. Filling the vacut~m in these ways in-volves prayer. We will consider the possibility for growth in prayer first in relating personally to God and then in establish-ing friendships with people. A married man who, in the course of the day, has experienced failure, disappointment, or hnrt can un-ashamedly recount his tale of woe to his wife that evening. She can console him and make love with him and so ease his pain and restore his self-confidence, so that he can go on with life. The celibate has no person who can do all th;~t for him in the way a wife can. He is usually forced, therefore, if he wishes consolation and restoration, to seek them in prayer to God. The same holds true for the expression of joy. The married na~n can recount his suc-cesses and tritmiphs to his wife who will consider them as her own, share his happiness, and reward him, so to speak, by m:~king love with him. The celibate will have to turn to God in prayer for comparable satisfaction in the expression of joy. The married man does not have to make all serious decisions and bear their consequences alone. Fie makes many of them with his wife and can count on her loyal support in the conseqnences that fol-low. The celib;~te has no one who can so closely cooperate with him in making decisions and in living with their consequences. He will have to find help and support in God in prayer. All this tells us something about wh:lt prayer should be for the celibate. It should be an encounter with a per-sonal God, with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as per-sons. The celibate must cnltivate a sense of the person-hood of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. He cannot afford to allow God to remain some distant, impersonal force behind the universe and his life. The three divine Persons mnst become genuine persons for him to relate 4- 4- + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 ,'599 + + + C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 600 to, even as a man's wife is a person for him to relate to. Of course, the divine Persons are not persons in exactly the same sense as a human person. But°divine person-hood includes what is most essential to personhood as we know it in human beings. It includes a knowing,, loving, caring subject who can sympathize and can act to help oue. Important in the life of the celibate, then, is the cnltiva-tion of a sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as genuine persons in his life, as truly as a man's wife is a person in his life. This cultiw~tion will be accomplished " through various forms of prayer. It will be done by meditative reading of the Scriptures through which the celibate will discover and appreciate more and more how truly the Father, His incarnate Son, Jesus Christ, and Their Spirit are knowing, loving, sym-pathetic, caring, belpfnl persons relating themselves to men in their sorrows and joys. Tbrongb familiarity with the Scriptures, the celibate will disceru that he, iudividu-ally, with his good and bad qualities, is accepted uncondi-tioually by the Father, even as the prodigal son was by Iris f;ither, th:~t he is loved by Christ, even as the woman taken in adultery was, and that he is supported by the Holy Spirit who deigns to dwell in him as his constant companion. Also important for the. celibate is the practice of the presence of God, that is, the effort to be aware of, and respond to, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as personally present to him. Personal presence is not merely physical proximity. In regard to God~ it means not only that He is near the celib:lte to snstain his being and activity. It means also that be is in God's thoughts and affection. The practice of the presence of God, the heart of mental prayer, is awareness of God's personal presence and re-sponse to it by holding God in one's own thoughts and affection. Bnt we should be more precise and speak of the presence of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Chris-tian God is threefold in person. What must he cnltivated is awareness of, and response to, these three Persons pres-ent in one's life. Through various forms of prayer, the celibate mnst become as mt, tually personally present to the three divine Persons as a man is mntnally personally present to his wife, thougl~, of course, the former presence will always be in the obscurity of faith. Because the presence of the Trinity is realized only in faith, it is difficult to have a sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as genuine persons in one's life. Besides, the persons of the Trinity are not like hmnan persons: unlike a man's wife, they are not bodily beings, visihle, andible, tangible. They do not talk back to the celibate immedi-ately, as does a man's wife, bnt answer him only through his search into revelation, the signs of the times, and his own peculiar situation. Bnt through the humanity of Jesus, the personal being of God is clearly revealed; with-out question God understands and sympathizes with us in our miseries anti joys, anti He accepts us despite our limitations anti failings. Through communion with the person Jesus Christ, the celibate learns also to recognize the Father anti the Spirit as genuine persons in his life. Christ's presence in the Eucharist is a further help to the celibate in relating to God personally. The Son of God incarnate lays hold of bread and wine and trans-forms them so that they are no longer bread and wine, except in appearance, but Himself for men. Thereby He is personally present to the celibate not only spiritually, by thought and affection, but also concretely, spatially, and temporally (though through'the mediation of the appearances of the consecrated elements), as a man's wife is present to him. It remains only for the celibate to respond to this most intense anti full personal presence of God in Christ by sacramental communion or by a "visit" to Christ in the Eucharist. Foolish is the celibate who never turns to Christ in the Blessed Sacrament for conso-lation in sorrow or for the sharing of joy. On the part of God, Christ in the Eucharist is the most concrete realiza-tion of the presence of God in the celibate's life. Com-munion with Christ in the Sacrament is analogous to the commnnion which a husband has with his wife as they embrace. It may be objected that the Christian married man also lntlst develop a sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as krxowing, loving, and caring persons in his life if he is to progress in holiness and prayer. There are times when lie will not have his wife at hand to snpport him anti share with him; anti even when she is at hand, there are needs and experiences which he cannot fully share with her, as mnch as lie may try and she may be willing. On these occasions lie must turn to Father, Son, anti Holy Spirit in prayer. It is even more obvious that the single man and the widower also are invited to relate to the Father, Son, anti Holy Spirit as genuine persons in their lives. In answer it may be said that it makes no difference to the celibate if others are called to an intimate friendship in prayer with the three divine Persons. hnportant for the celibate is the fact that, in Go'd's gift to him of celi-bacy, there is a great potentiality for prayer opened tip to him. Whether or not others have a similar potentiality for prayer is not nearly :is important as his making the most of the potentiality which has been given to him. Yet the celibate's situation is different from most other men's. The married man does have a wife in whom lie + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 601 + ÷ + C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 can often and at least partially fulfill his need for inti-mate personal relationship. The single man can marry. The widower, if his faith is vigorous and vivid, can enjoy the spiritual presence of his wife, whose life has not ended with death but changed; he can also remarry. The celibate, in virtue of his vow, is without any of these possibIe means of satisfying his need for intimate per-sonal relationship. In times of need, he cannot turn to any of these possibilities but is compelled, as it were, to turn immediately to God. The celibate should rejoice that a potentiality for prayer which is a normal part of his life as a result of God's gift of celibacy is also bestowed on others by the circumstances of their lives. He should develop a keen sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as persons in his life to whom he intimately relates, so that he can help his fellow men do the same thing for the times in their lives when they need it. This is one way in which he serves as an example of Christian life and as a help to his fellow Christians in other states of life. The call of the celibate to turn in prayer to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as genuine persons in his life for personal fulfillment tells us something about the content of prayer. One is inclined to think of prayer as saying "nice" things to God or thinking edifying thoughts in His presence. To pray is to recall God's wonderful works for men in the history of salvation. It is to praise God for His power, wisdom, and providence and to thank Him for .Jesus Christ and the gift of the Spirit. It is to express faith, hope, and charity in His regard. It is to have beau-tiful tl~oughts inspired by passages in Scripture or in spiritual books of meditation. It is to pray for the salva-tion of souls, for the growth of the Church, for the Pope and bishops, for health and holiness. As the content of prayer, all this is excellent. But if this is all that one ever regards as appropriate content for prayer, it may be doubted that one very often prays with the deep conviction and feeling with which the Psalmist or Jeremiah or Jesus prayed. If we turn again to the married man, we can get some idea of further and more realistic content for the prayer of the celibate. Marriage provides for the support and fulfillment of the married man because be has another person to whom be can unburden his soul. He does not talk to his wife only about beautiful and inspiring things. He does not always praise and thank her. The concerns which be ex-presses to bet are not limited to the general needs of mankind or society. He sometimes speaks to her about his doubts, his anger, his pity, his misery. He sometimes com-plains about her household management. Out of sincere admiration and gratitude, he sometimes congratulates her for a delicious meal or for a well-planned dinner party. To her he expresses deep emotions of fear, grief, hostility, hope, and joy, without fear that he will be rejected or tl~ougbt silly. He expresses to her his carnal desire for her. With his wife he is himself, lets himself go, and discovers what is in himself. As the married man expresses himself to his wife, the celibate expresses himself to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In prayer the celibate talks to God about his doubts and convictions, his misery and his happiness. To God be rehearses his dislikes and hatreds, knowing that God will not condemn him but will heal his hostilities or at least help him live with them in a way which will not harm him or others. He vents his disappointments, his hurts, his aspirations, his feelings of triumph, without feeling that God will think him damnable or vain but, on the contrary, will go on loving him the more for opening his beart to Him. He tells God bow annoyed he is by his snperior or how vexed he is that his plans for the summer have been thwarted. He tells God about the happy visit he had that clay with a clear friend or about the program which he directed with remarkable success. He thanks God for the many blessings He has bestowed and complains to Him about His designs for him now. In a word, the celibate's prayer is not only saying things to God which one is expected to say to Him, as one is expected to say certain things to a bishop, or a superior, or the president of the United States. A married man does not find support and fulfillment in married life by telling his wife only those things which are expected in some romantic notion of marriage, but by telling her what is really in his mind and heart. So the celibate prays authentically to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit by ex-pressing to Them what is trnly in his mind and heart, whether it is beautiful or ugly. In this way he discovers himself through prayer to the three divine Persons. It should be noted that it is not mere self-expression that leads to self-discovery, but self-expression to which there is a response from another self. A husband's expres-sion of himself evokes a response from his wife; she ex-presses herself in silence or in words, favorably or unfa-vorably, admitting and accepting or challenging and re-fusing what her husband has presented. A husband's wife "talks back" in various ways. Dialogue between two per-sons arises. As a result of the exchange, the "truth" emerges into the light: what sort of person each is, what motivates each, strong and weak points of character. This truth about the self may not be recognized in the conrse of the exchange but only afterwards as one reflects on what happened in it. Nor does the whole truth emerge from one dialogue. It is only tbrongh repeated dialogue ÷ ÷ ÷ Celibacy VOLUME 30~ 3.971 603 + ÷ ÷ C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 604 over the course of time tbat a husband understands him-serf better, acquires some self-possession, and thus ma-tures. The analogous relation between husband and wife on the one hand and, on the other, the celibate and the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit appears to break down at this point. The Persons of the Trinity do not talk back. But they do! The three divine Persons talk back in reve-lation, in the external circnmstances of the celibate's life, and in his internal condition. In revelation, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit express the sort of persons they are, their motives, their designs. As a husband has to adjust himself to his wife as he discovers her to be through their dialogue together, the celibate must adjust himself to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Important for the celibate, then, is his continual searching in revelation, especially as found in the Scriptures, for God's response to what is in his mind and in his heart. In the external circum-stances of his life (where and with whom he lives, the duties he has, the claims made on him by others) and in his internal condition (his strengths and weaknesses of character, his interests and talents, his fears and hopes), God also talks back to the celibate. The celibate must adjust himself to these circumstances and conditions which divine providence has imposed or permitted. By examining his thoughts, feelings, desires, and activities in the light of revelation and the circumstances and condi-tions of his life in prayer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the celibate, over a period of time, discovers more and more of the truth about himself. This truth makes him free, makes him a mature human person. I[ prayer is the expression to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit of all the celibate's thoughts and feelings, the "not-nice" ones as well as the "nice" ones, then prayer will not be limited to neat little times of prayer punctuating the (lay. The celibate can be personally present to the three divine Persons while he is walking down the street, tak-ing a shower, or dropping off to sleep at night. Moreo-ver, it is during just such times when he is alone and involved in activities which do not engage his mind very mnch, that he finds himself rehearsing in his mind and imagination his resentments, disappointments, failures, pleasures, and achievements. Dnring these times he has an opportunity for prayer. All that is required is the recognition that he is in the presence of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and the wish that They hear his recital of woe or happiness. The celibate will welcome times set aside for prayer, for then he will have the opportunity to express more fully his thoughts and feelings to the three divine Per-sons. He will have an opportunity to ask Them to forgive him for the wrong he has discovered in himself and to help him persevere in the good which he has found. He will welcome more formal and objective liturgical prayer, or spontaneous prayer in a group, for in some words of the liturgy or some words of a fellow Christian, there is the possibility that God's response to his self-expression will finally come: God will at last talk back. The dia-log. ue between the celibate and God will be consummated and the celibate will discern the truth about himself. God will not talk back to the celibate every time he engages in common prayer, liturgical or informal, but certainly on some occasions God's word will be there for him. Conse-quently, he will not neglect such prayer lest he miss the word of God which is meant just for him. When this word comes fi'om God in common prayer, it will continue to resound in his mind and heart as he goes his way, a new man, knowing himself better, more free, more ma-tllre. Real prayer is not always pretty. It is a cry to God in anguish or anger. Real prayer is not dispassionate. It is a song of gladness and triumph. It purifies because it places before a loving Father, Son, and Holy Spirit both what is ngly and what is beautiful in one's life. Coupled with the response of the three divine Persons, it leads to dis-covery of one'~ self, freedom, maturity, and personal ful-fillment. Celibacy creates a condition which calls for snch prayer with special urgency. Snch prayer is necessary in every state of life, but it is especially necessary for the celibate if lie is to achieve personal maturity, for lie has excluded from his life the ordinary means of achieving that maturity through the intimate interpersonal rela-tionship of marriage. The second great potentiality for prayer in the celi-bate's life resides in the need to develop human friend-ships. Tills.potentiality for prayer will be considered in the second part of this article. The first part of this article considered the first great potentiality for prayer in the celibate life, namely, the need to develop an intimate, truly personal friendship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, analogous to the relationship which a man and woman have in marriage. The second great potentiality for prayer in the celibate life resides in the need to develop human friendships. We begin exploration of this potentiality by noting different kinds of fi'iendship in the celibate's life. The first sort of friendship is toward those people with whom the celibate ordinarily lives, works, and recreates. The second class is toward those few people with whom lie shares particular views, interests, and wdues. The third kind of friendship is toward those persons to whom he is strongly attracted because they especially satisfy his + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 605 + + + C. Kie~ling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 606 particnlar subjective needs for certain other persons in his life. In the case of the first sort of friendship, the name "friend" is used in a very broad sense. The "associate" expresses more literally the relationship wlficb the celi-bate has with people in this first class of friendship. These people are his associates in daily work, meals, rec-reation, and prayer. With them he shares some general views, interests, and values, and be "gets along" with them. His interaction with them provides some personal support and happiness, but they do not satisfy some of his deeper, unique, human, and personal needs. lu this first group is included a subclass of associates to whom the celibate relates only with difficulty, perhaps even in continual conflict. Bnt such people are not strangers to him nor he to them; they know one another better than they know the clerk at the store or the passen-ger they meet on the plane. They "associate" with one an-other daily or very fi'cqucntly in w~rious activities. Inter-action with these people plays an important role in the celibate's personal development and pursuit of happiness. The name "friend" applies quite well to people in the second class of friendship, though here we will call them "good friends" to distinguisla them from friends of the first and third kind. The celibate particularly enjoys the company of his good friends and feels especially at ease with them. He feels free to express to them his opinions ~n(l feelings about many things because he knows that they will be respected and accepted. Most of the time, with most of these people, however, be will not express his most intimate thoughts and feelings about some things, and especially abot, t himself and them. The bond here is not mutu;d attraction to, and interest in, one another, but particular views, interests, and values which they bold in common. Witbont some good friends, the celibate may find life difficult. He will more likefy feel the pain of loneliness which the first kind of friends, associates, only superfi-cially alleviates. It is even possible that without some good fiiends he may develop neurotic tendencies, for he will not express to sympathetic listeners many thoughts and feelings, especially of hostility or discouragement, that would better be brought out into the open, lest, being confined within, they produce depression or mor-bidity. "Friend" is a rather pallid name for people in the third class of fiiendship. These people we will call "close friends" to distinguish them from associates and good friends. From the first sort of friend, the celibate parts with equanimity and, in some cases, relief; fi'om the sec-ond sort, with regret; from the third, with great reluc- tance and even anguish. If a close friend suffers misfor-tune, the celibate's own life is upset, perhaps to distrac-tion and disorientation; he finds it difficult to go on tran-quilly with his ordinary duties. It is as if be himself suffered the misfortune. Close friends are most truly "other selves." The celibate is interested in his close friends, not simply in their views and values, but in them, their innermost thoughts and feelings, their physi-cal, mental, and spiritual welfare. To them he reveals his deepest thoughts and feelings, his doubts, convictions, and emotions, confident of their affection (not just re-spect) and their loyalty toward him. He is more or less emotionally involved with them. in them he finds fulfill-ment of his need for intimacy with persons. They are surrogates for the marriage partner which he has ex-cluded from his life. Sonie celibates cannot live well-balanced, full, and happy lives without one or more close friends. Others can, though they will lack sympathetic understanding for some experiences of the human heart. On tile other hand, every celibate's life can be imlnensely enriched by close friendship, even though lie may not absolutely need it for persoual maturity and contentment. The celibate's friends of all three kinds may be men or women. One and the same person may be a friend in one or more of these three ways. Thus the celibate may be strongly attracted to a member of his local community with whom he finds particular compatibility in likes and concerns. On tile other hand, he may find such compati-bility or such personal attraction or both in someone with whom lie rarely associates. This typology of friendships in the celibate's life has, of course, the limitations of every typology. It is an at-tempt to find some intelligible pattern in the infinite variety, complexity, and fluidity of life. Actual friend-ships will approximate one or another type, sometimes partaking of characteristics of more than oue type. The whole matter is complicated further in actual life by the fact that tile celibate and a certain friend may not re-spond to one another in the same class of friendship; lie may regard as a close frieud someone who looks upon him as simply a good friend. Hence one may find that one's own experiences of friendship do not fit neatly into this or that category of the typology that has been pre-sented. In spite of its inadequacies, this typology serves to sug-gest that some o~ the celibate's friendships will not be very problematic, while others will; some will evoke re-sponses from him beyond what be expects and is immedi-ately prepared for and thus will demand growth in per-sonal matnrity. Compatible associates and good friends + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 607 + ÷ C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 608 are usually taken for granted. They are lubricants, so to speak, which make the wheel of life turn easily. They do not make very great demands on the celibate but make it possible for him to bear with the demands of life which come from other sources. Relating to irritating associates or to close friends, on the other hand, is not easy. Relating to irritating associates is difficult because of the conflict of personalities. Relating to close friends is arduous because strong instinctual drives, powerful emo-tions, deep personal needs, and wish-fulfilling illusions are involved, and because the focus of attention is not the stable, objective mntual interests and activities shared by good friends, but the person of the close friend, a free agent, susceptible to moods, hence often falling short of expectations, and ultimately a mystery, as every human person is. In attempting to develop these two kinds of friendship, the celibate discovers his limitations and is driven toward prayer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for help. Hence these two sorts of friendship may be said to contain more conspicuous potentialities for growth in prayer than the other kinds of friendship. Actual instances of these two difficult sorts of friend-ship are infinitely varied by circumstances. The difficulty in relating to an annoying associate may be due to nor-real differences of temperament and character or to neu-rotic traits in one or both. The irritating associate may be a superior or a peer, or may be someone with whom the celibate lives elbow to elbow or someone with whom he deals only in his work. The person toward whom the celibate feels drawn in close friendship may be a man or woman, celibate, single, or married, frequently or only occasionally in his company. Becanse actual instances of these two kinds of friend-ship are so different fi'om one another, to speak of the potentialities for prayer in them in general would not be very helpful. Hence, we will restrict ourselves to explor-ing the potentialities for prayer in a close friendship of the (male) celibate with a woman, also dedicated to celi-bacy, whom he sees only occasionally; it will also be as-sumed that both persons are firm in their dedication to the celibate life. From this single instance, one can gain some idea of what it means to speak of the potentialities for prayer in friendship. One can then explore on one's own the possibilities for prayer in one's own difficult hnman relationships. In a close friendship of the kind stipulated, the celibate finds pleasure, satisfaction, and joy. Deep cisterns of sex-ual, human, and personal needs are filled to brimming with cool, fi'esh water. Life becomes extraordinarily beau-tiful in the present and rich in possibilities for the future. He marvels at the qualities he discovers, one after the other, in Iris friend and at the total uniqueness and mys-tery of her being. In her presence, life assumes a timeless, eternal quality. Particular words and actions are lost to view in the more comprehensive awareness of the inter-personal presence which they mediate; just being to-gether is more significant than anything said or done. Because of tiffs friendship, the whole of life and the world receive a new interpretation and meaning. A frequent form of prayer found in the Bible is praise of God in thanksgiving for his gifts of creation and salvation.4 The Bible contains countless joyful songs (Psahns and Canticles) in which God is praised and thanked by simply reciting in His presence the beauty and awesomeness of creation and His wonderful works of salvation on behalf of His people or individt, als. In the pleasure, satisfaction, and joy which the celibate finds in Iris friendship, there is inspiration for praise of God and thanksgiving to Him for what gives so much happy ful-fillment. As he rehearses to himself the wonderfulness of his experience and of the loved one--be can scarcely avoid doing tbis~he has only to place himself in the presence of God and add to his rehearsal, in a spirit of gratitude, acknowledgment to God for His gift. Knowing experientially what it means to break out in praise and thanksgiving to God for one gift so keenly appreciated, the celibate more readily values the prayers of praise and thanksgiving for other gifts of God (some of them, in the final analysis, far more itnportant than his friendship) which constitute so much of the liturgy. He welcomes a period of mental prayer, for it provides time to recount before God, in thankft, l praise, the joys of his friendship. But there is also the pain of separation--the anguish of parting and the ache of being apart. What does the cell bate do with this pain? He nnites it with the pain of Christ on the cross-and thus makes it, not an inexplicable dead-end, but redemptive and life-giving. He does this in tl~ought whenever be feels the pain with particular acute-hess, but be does it also when be offers himself to God in, with, and through Christ in His unique offering of Him-self and all mankind on Calvary rendered sacramentally present in the celebration of the Eucharist. The pain of separ~tion is grist [or the miil of t, nion with Christ in suffering and death, even as the joy of presence antici-pates the joy of sharing in the resurrection of Jesus. Through the pain and joy of friendship, the celibate ~Sce T. Worden, The Psalms Are Christian Prayer (New York: Sbccd and Ward, 1961), for an excellent analysis of tbc Psalms and other prayers in Scripture as basically praise (thanksgiving) or lamen-tation (petition, hope, confidence). Both kinds, especially the first, have been carried over into the Christian liturgy, with modifica-tions. Both arc exemplary for private prayer. ÷ ÷ + Celibacy VOLUME .:30, 1971 609 C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIE

Issue 29.4 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, 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 editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3at Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical appro,'al by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri ¯ 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1970 by REVIEW FOR RELtO~OUS at 428 East Preston Street~ Baltimore, Mary* land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to p~rsons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where a~eom-panied by a remittance, should be scat to REvz8w ~oa RE~m~ous; P. O. ~x 671; Bahimo~, Ma~land 21203. Changes of addr~, b~n~ co~es~nd~ce, and orders ~t a~¢ompanitd ~ a rtmittanee should be ~t tO REVIEW ~R RELIGIOUS ; 428 East ~eston St~t; BMfmo~. Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts. ~ito~al cor- ~s~ndence, and ~ks for ~iew should ~ sent to R~v~w ~oa R~m~ous; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~u~ 63103. Qu~dons for answering should be s~t to the add~ of the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JULY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER4 MOTHER MARY FRANCIS, P.C.C. Creative Spiritual Leadership If we are going to talk about creative leadership, we shall first of all want to clarify what we mean by leader-ship and what we mean by creative. That these are not self-evident terms or even pr~sen.tly readily understand-able terms should be obvious from an imposing current witness to creative leadership envisioned as an abolition of leadership, and a transversion of creativity into annihi-lation. While it is true enough that, theologically ~and philosophically speaking, annihilation is as great an act as creation, hopefully we do not analogically conceive of our goal in leadership as being equally well attained by annihilation or by creativityl As God's creativity is to cause to be, something that was not, our creativity as superiors who are quite noticeably not divine, is to allow something that is, to become. As a matter of fact, we assume a responsibility to do this by accepting the office of superior. Much has been and is being written and said about the superior as servant. This is so obviously her role that one wonders what all the present excitement is about. Quite evidently, Otis role, this primary expression of leadership, has been for-gotten by some superiors, even perhaps by many supe-riors, in the past. But why should we squander present time and energy in endlessly denouncing such past forget-fulness? Let us simply remember truth now, and get on with our business. One characteristic of creative leader-ship is to point a finger at the future rather than to shake a finger at the past. St. Clare wrote in her Rule more than seven hundred years .ago that the abbess must be the handmaid of all the sisters, not pausing to labor so evident a fact but simply going on to give some particulars which have a ve.ry modern ring: the abbess is to behave so affably that the sisters can speak and act toward her as toward one who serves them. That dear realist, Clare of Assisi, who Mother Mary Francis, P.C.C., is federal abbess of the Collettine Poor Clare Federation; 809 E. 19th Street;. Roswell, New Mex-ico 88201. VOLUME 29 1970 497 ÷ ÷ Mother Francis REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS passes so easily from blunt warnings about such un-monastic natural virtues as envy, vainglory, covetousness, and grumbling, to airy reminders that it is no good get-ting angry or worried about anyone's faults as this merely deals charity a still severer blow--that dear realist had obviously run up against so~ne personalities who were "handmaids" sufficiently formidable to discourage any-one's rendering them personal recognition in this area. The abbess is supposed to be lovable, for St. Clare en-visions a community where sisters obey a superior be-cause they love her and not because they dread her. This was quite a novel as well as a radical theology of superior-ship in Clare's day. And if it remains radical today, it is a great shame that it sometimes remains novel also. The medieval saint makes so much of this point of the lovable-hess of the superior that she returns to it in her dying Testament, begging her successors that they behave them-selves so that the sisters obey them not from a sense of duty but from love. It's not just the same thing she is saying again, however. You note that whereas in the Rule she does not want any fear or dread of the superior, in the Testament she rules out dutifulness as well. It has got to be a matter of love itself. Who, after all, would want to be loved out of a sense of duty? It would be in-suiting, really. Any normal superior would rather be loved in spite of herself than because of her office. St. Clare makes quite a point in her brief Rule and Testament of describing the manifestations of this lovableness she so insists upon. She gives us her idea of creative leadership. And its present practicability may make us want to pause and clear our throats before the next time we utter that bad word, "medievalism," as an indictment. Besides the general affability which Clare describes in Rule and Testament, she underscores an availability rather beyond and considerably more profound than the "let's sit down in the cocktail lounge and talk about salvation history" mentality. St. Clare wants an on-site superior who is "so courteous and affable" (there's that word again) that the sisters can tell her their troubles and need~, seek her out "at all hours" with serene trust and on any account,--their own or their sisters'. This last point is particularly arresting, considering again that this is a medieval abbess delineating the characteristics of a creative superior as she conceived those characteristics in about 1250, not a 1970 progressive-with-a-message. Clare did not favor isolationism in community. Each of her nuns was supposed to notice that there were other nuns around. And she called them sisters, which was quite original in her day. She favored coresponsibility quite a while before the 1969 synod of bishops, taking it for granted that the abbess was not to be the only one concerned for the good of the community, but that it belongs to the nature of being sisters that each has a lov-ing eye for the needs of all the others. Again, there is her famous saying: "And if a mother love and nurture he~ daughter according to the flesh, how much the more ought a sister to love and nurture her sister according to the spiritl" Yes, it does seem she ought. And maybe we ought to be as medieval as modern in some respects. For some medieval foundresses did an imposing amount of clear .thinking on community, on sisterliness, on the meaning of humble spiritual leadership which we, their progeny, could do well to ponder. So, there's affability, availability, accessibility. When we read St. Clare's brief writings and savor the droll confi-dences given in the process of her canonization, we can conclude that this superior often toned her sisters down but never dialed them out. Then, St. Clare insists that the creative spiritual leader be compassionate. There is no hint of a prophylactic de-tachment ~om human love and sympathy nor of that artificial austerity which pretends that to be God-oriented is to be creature-disoriented. No, Clare says of the su-perior: "Let her console the sorrowful. Let her be the last refuge of the troubled." Note, she does not tell. the contemplative daughter to work it all out with God, and that human sympathy is for sissies. And she warns that "if the weak do not find comfort at her [the abbess'] hands," they may very well be "overcome by the sadness of despair." Those are quite strong terms from a woman who did not trade on hyperboles or superlatives and was no tragedienne. Again, she has something v~ry plain and very strong to say about responsibility. For we had better not talk about coresponsibility unless we have understanding of primary responsibility. "Let her who is elected consider of what sort the burden is she has taken upon her and to whom an account of those entrusted to her is to be rendered." So, Clare will have the superior clearly under-stand that she has a definite and comprehensive responsi-bility to a particular group of people, a responsibility which is immeasurably more demanding than counting votes to determine the consensus. She is supposed to cre-ate and maintain an atmosphere in which sisters can best respond to their own call to holiness. Obviously, she can-not do this alone. But she is the one most responsible for making it possible for each sister to contribute her full share in creating and maintaining this atmosphere. She is the ,one who is particularly responsible for not just al-lowing, but helping the sisters, and in every possible way, to r~alize their own potential. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leadership VOLUME 29, 1970 499 + + + Mother Frands REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~00 If I may deliver to any possibly frustrated or depressed superiors some glad tidings out of my own small experi-ence, I beg to announce this finding: Sisters are not as hard on superiors as many dour authors make them out to be. They do not expect perfection in the superior. They are, as a matter of fact, quite ready to pass over the most obvious faults and failures in the superior as long as they know she loves them and would do anything in the world for them, and is herself struggling along with them to "walk before God and be perfect," and having just as hard a time as they with this quite exacting but certainly thrilling divine program. Isn't it, after all, singularly ex-hilarating to have been asked by a God who has witnessed all one's past performances, to be perfect as He is perfect[ But that is an aside of sorts. The point I was making is that sisters will sooner forgive the faults of the warm-hearted than the "perfection" of the coldhearted. At least that is my personal observation. It is not faults that alienate people, it is phoneyness. And may it always alienate them, for it is nothing to make friends with. Now, if the superior is set to create and to make it possible for the sisters to help create an atmosphere suited to the response to a divine call to holiness, this atmog-phere will have to be one of real human living. For the only way a human being can be holy is by being a holy human being. I believe one of the more heartening signs of our times is the accent on humanness. For one of our tiredest heresies is the proposal that the less human we are, the more spiritual we are. Another aside I am tempted to develop here is a reflection on how we describe only one type of behavior as inhuman. We never attribute that dread adjective to the weak, hut only to the cruel. .But I had better get on with what I was saying, which is that dehumanized spirituality is no longer a very popular goal. This is all to the good. However, we shall want to be sure when we talk enthusiastically about the present ac-cent on real human living in religious life that the quali-fying "real" is not underplayed. It needs rather to be underscored. Certainly we would evince a genuine poverty of thought to equate real human living with ease. On the other hand, there is evidently a direct ratio between sacrificial living and real human fulfillment, between poor, obedient living and joy, between ritual and liberty, between the common task and real (as opposed to con-trived) individuality. Genuine common living in reli-gious life is not the witness of the club, but of the com-munity. Its real proponents are not bachelor girls, but women consecrated to God as "a living sacrifice holy and pleasing to God." Our blessed Lord emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant. And no one yet has ever been fulfilled by any other process than kenosis. Beginning with the Old Testament, history affords us a widescreen testimony to the truth of the binding and liberating power of sacrifice. It binds the individuals in a community together, and it liberates both individuals and the community as such into the true and beautiful expression of self-ness which is what God envisioned when He saw that each of His creations was very good. History shouts at us that self-ness is not a synonym but an antonym for selfishness. May we have ears to hearl Just as nothing so surely situates persons in isolationism as establishing a mystique of ease and a cult of comfort, so does nothing so surely both promote and express genuine community as sacrificial action, whether liturgical or do-mestic. This generation feels it has come upon the glori-ous new discovery that the world is good. It is indeed a glorious discovery, but not a new one. St. Francis, for one, discovered this in the thirteenth century. But if joyous Francis owned the world, it was precisely because he never tried to lease it. It is essential that the creative superior be a living reminder that our situation in time is not static but dy-namic, our involvement in the world urgent but not ulti-mate, our service of others indicative rather than deter-minative, and our earthly life not a land-lease but a pilgrimage. Somewhere or other I recently read that the one good line in a new play whose name I happily can-not now recall is the one where a character looks at a plush-plush apartment hotel and remarks: "If there is a God, this is where he lives." I seem to detect a bit of this mentality in some of our experimentation. This would be only mildly disturbing if it pertained to the kind of luxuriousness that keeps periodically turning up in his-tory until a new prophet-saint arrives on the scene to de-nounce it and expunge it from the local roster. What is deeply disturbing is that we are sometimes uttering brave and even flaming words about identifying with the poor at the same time that we are rewriting just this kind of past history. But that is another small aside from the large issue, which is real human living and the sacrificial element that is one of the most unfailing preservatives of that "real" in human living. The material poverty and inconvenience just alluded to is but a minor facet of the idea, but I do think it is a facet. Do any of us lack personal experience to remind us that the poorest communities are usually the happiest? Nothing bores like surfeit, nothing divides like ease. If it is true--and it is!--that the religious community does not rightly understand its vocation unless it sees it-self as part of the whole ecclesial community, the cosmic VOLUME 29, 1970 50! + ÷ ÷ Mother Frands REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community, it is equally true (because it is the same truth turned around) that the religious community will be to the ecclesial community and the cosmic community only What it is to itself and in itself. The creative leader will want to accent this to her sisters so that they can accent it to one another. Not verbally. Just vitallyl we shall be to the Church and to the world only what we are to each other, no more and no less. And what we are to each other will inevitably serve the Church and th~ world. Every superior is called to be a prophet. Perhaps we could even say that this is her highest creative service in allowing and assisting others to realize their potential and release their own creative energies. Now that we are all nicely educated to understand that the prophet is not the one who foretells the future so much as the one who says something about the present, the creative superior's prophet role becomes not only clear but uncomfortable. Jeremiah would doubtless have had a much higher popu-larity rating if he had limited his observations to a pleas-ant, "Shaloml" It is so much easier to say "Shalom" than to say "Do penance, or you shall all perish." Of course, it is best of all to prophesy both penance and peace, but we shall have to keep them in that order. And our own ef-forts to achieve that real human living which has to be rooted in penance and sacrifice give abundant testimony that peace is indeed a consequence of penance performed in love, of sacrifice as a choice of life style rather than just a choice among things. Obviously, obedience is the profoundest expression of sacrifice. And maybe one of the biggest mistakes that eventuated into that maternalism in religious communi-ties which has had us running such high temperatures in recent press years, is that of supposing that obedience is for subjects only. Allow me another aside to interject here another small idea I have been nurturing. It is, that "subjects" is a very poor word substitute for "sisters" and of itself precipitates a whole theological misconception of what and who a superior is. Subjects are persons ruled over. However, a servant does not rule. We need to get rid of the monarchical connotations of "subject." And if we begin by getting rid of the term "subject," we may be already better equipped to understand that the superior, as servant, is the first "abject.in the house of the Lord." Once we establish her as abject, we shall perhaps be less ready to label her "reject." A creative superior will have to excel in obedience. It is part of her role as prophet. She must obey others' needs at their specified time according to their manner and manifestations. She must respond not just to the insights God gives her, but to those He gives her sisters. She should obey their true inspirations as well as her own. She ought to be obedient to the very atmosphere she has helped the sisters to create. For we can never establish a communal modus vivendi and then sit back to enjoy it. Life, like love, needs constant tending. Life needs living as love needs loving. This very thing is essential to crea-tive leadership. Charity is a living thing and, therefore, it is always subject to fracture, disease, enfeeblement, paralysis, atrophy, and death. The prophet is more called to procla!m this truih and to disclaim offenses against this truth than to wear a LUV button on her lapel. It is much easier to waste a LUV banner at a convention than to tend and nurture love in those thousand subtle ways and by those myriad small services for which womanhood is specifically designed, in which religious women should excel, and to which religious superiors are twice called. Real human living which the creative superior is called to promote, can never be anything but spiritual, sacri-ficial, intelligently obedient, and--yes---transcendental. We need not be wary of the word or the concept. The new accent on horizontalism is well placed, for many of us seem to have got a stiffening of the spiritual spine with past concentration on verticalarity. Still, if we adopt a completely horizontal mentality, we are apt to drift off to sleep as concerns genuine spiritual values. After all, the position is very conducive to sleep. We are most fully human when we are vertical. Yes, we reach out horizontally, but our face is upturned to Heaven. The really lovely paradox is that it is only when our eyes are upon God that we are able to see those around us and recognize their needs. They are, after all, each of them "in the secret of His Face." It is a vital serv-ice of creative leadership that it emphasize the essentiality of the transcendental element in real human living. In fact, we could more accurately talk of the transcendental character of full human living than of any transcendental element. The term of our d~stiny is not on earth. There-fore, we shall never rightly evaluate anything that per-tains to earthly existence unless we see it or are attempt-ing to see it from an eternal perspective. And we shall never really live humanly unless we are living spiritually. Certainly we shall never have a religious community that abounds in warm human affection and mutual concern unless it is a religious community concerned primarily with the kingdom of God. We can properly focus on one another only when we are focused on God. For to be fully human is to share in what is divine: "He has made us partakers of His divinity." The most natural superior is, therefore, the most super-natural. And real human living must be based on a val- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 503 Mother Francis REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ues system that is transcendental. In these days one need scarcely look far afield to discover what becomes of com-munity when the values system is not transcendental. A group of individual women, each doing her thing, is' by no means the same as a community which has a thing to do. To such a community, each sister brings her own creative contribution, and in it each realizes her creative potential. And a servant of creativity is needed for all this. There is much more to be said about creative leader-ship, and others are equipped to say it much better. One can only speak out of one's own experience and with one's own limitations. However, it has been my observa-tion that cloister6d living does offer a certain insight into humanity which is sometimes different from that of per-sons whose professional qualifications doubtless exceed those of the cloistered nun. It's quite predictable, really. We ought to anticipate expertise in human living from those who have chosen to achieve human living in such close quarters. We should expect some spec~ial insights into humanity from those who see it at such dose range and on such limited acreage. So perhaps these simple thoughts may have some small point to niake. Let me add, then, only a final word about the realiza-tion of creativity and about the full expression of human living. We've talked about sacrifice, penance, obedience, transcendentalism. Recently, our sisters ran up against an example of a truly fulfilled human being. This was a priest in his seventies. At thirty, he'd got drunk. And a ,series of really devilish events conspired to turn that one mistake into a tragedy for which he was not responsible. He was used by bigots, manipulated by the circumstances they precipitated, and he was deprived of his priestly faculties. He sought help from his bishop who said it was all very sad, but he really could not do anything. He took it to Rome and got put in a file because, though it was all very sad, there was no canon to cover it. He turned to fellow priests who agreed it was all very sad, but they were very busy and there was nothing they could do about it. (I am very rejoiced to report that one Franciscan ~riar did try, desperately, to help.) No priest ever had more provocation to bitterness. He was the example classique of being treated as a number and not as a person. So, who could blame him that he wrote such vitriolic articles after he left the Church? Anyone could understand his contempt for the hierarchy. And when he sneered at the Roman Curia, you could only say that, after all, he had really had it. Only, the fact is, he did not leave the Church, nor did he write vitriolic articles, nor did he sneer. For forty years he lived the obscure life Of a workingman. He went to Mass each day. And he persevered in faith. God crowned that faith with exoneration of the past and the restoration of sacerdotal privileges only after~ forty years, but one can speculate on the interior crowning when one knows that this priest now offers dally Mass w~th tears that are neither self-pitying nor bitterly s~lding. He's just happy. He's just grateful. And he has obviously ex-perienced more personal fulfilment than any[of the local protestors, for he is beautiful to behold. And this is not to say that wrongs don't m~tter or that protests should never be lodged. It is merely] to offer for consideration the evidence of what suffering]and silence and unshakable faith can do in the line of creating a .I fully realized human being. Maybe supengrs need to point.up these things a little more than some] of us some-times do. ! I am scribbling some of this manuscript ag I watch at the bedside of a dying sister of ours. It's my !first experi-ence as abbess with death. And somehow all reflections on religious life, on community, on leadership, ~n creativity are turned upon this one deathbed in this one small cell. I lind it a very revealing perspective. Sister l~as a way of pointing at the ceiling regularly. And whdn you ask: "What do you see? What is there?" she does ~ot check in with a "vision." She just says: "Joyl" That is the direction to seek for it, if you want to lind it on earth. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 JOHN D. KELLER, O.S.A. Some Observations on Religious Formation and Spirituality John D. Keller, O.S.A., is the rector of the Augustinian Study House; 3771 East Santa Rosa Road; Camarillo, California 93010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There has been a great deal written and great amounts of private and public discussion on the subject of religious formation and spirituality in recent years. I hesitate, therefore, to add to an already prolonged dialogue. But I am encouraged to submit these observations to the wider review of the readership of this journal quite simply be-cause they are not those of an onlooker or expert but of a p.articipant.1 And they are not springing from the mem-ories (be they good or bad) of one person's own period of formation. I write as a member of a large diocesan seminary col-lege faculty and as rector of a small house of studies in which and out of which both clerical and non-clerical candidates are living life in community and preparing for the active ministry. I am not an expert, am not a scholar: I write not as sociologist or statistician or psy-chologist. I have a short memory as regards my own semi-nary and religious formation; with it I am not dissatisfied. For the past three and a half years I have been involved in establishing and guiding a rather minor innovation in the religious formation of candidates for my own order. For this lack of expertise I make no apologies for, I would judge, it is well that we hear more from those who come from the land of untidy students, not neat theory. It is a land where individuals correspond to no profile and frequently, alas, do not respond to the analyses and predictions of the community position paper makers. There is frequently quite a distance between theory and reality, between the goals and philosophy and plans of 1 This ~rticle is adapted from a talk given at the annual meeting of R~gion V (Western) of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men in Honolulu, Hawaii, November 3-5, 1969. community study groups and their implementation: pro-posed causes do not always neatly bring abdut their pro-posed effects. My intention is not to rehearse what is ~already (per-haps painfully so) known to you: Houses of formation, as the Church, are in a time of change, innovaltion, and ex-perimentation; initiative, Eersonal choice, ",apostolic ex-periences, questioning, persbnal growth, widening of re-sponsibilities, psychological, counseling ard all on the upswing and have occasion,ed, along with other realiza-tions and "discoveries," chafiges and propose~d changes in religious formation and approaches to th~ life of the Spirit. ' I would like to discuss some observations'I have made ¯ in living with and working with candidates and at the same time indicate the dire'ction of my thl~nking. Father Cuyler's recent report for CARA indicdtes that my thoughts are not without companyfl but there are cer-tainly many points of view. My experience i~ with college age candidates for a men's religious fxatern~ty, but these observations seem applicable in most cases ~o women re-ligious as well. I have grotiped my remarkS¯ under these three headings: the candidates; "format"lon~ ; and spirit-ual life. The Candidates It is axiomatic that our candidates are prgducts of our times. They are articulate; they have been ra,ised on visual media; many come from un'settled home cofiditions; they I are casual in their convers~ttion concermng sexual mat-ters; they respect honesty tb a high degree;' yet they are frequently infected with the cynicism which is prevalent in our society; and like youth of every age they are strug-gling with the personal resolution of the~ discrepancy between ideals and reality.,, ' A study of statistics indicates the number ~of candidates is lower than most of us hi~ve, perhaps been accustomed Io o to. What is most difficult t~ make a determination on is whether or not the quahty is better or, worse. Optt-mists have suggested that we have fewer candidates, but they are of better "quality'(--whatever that! might mean. Optimist or not, my observations are threefold: (1) Many candidates are coming forward with far less "background" as regards their prior religious formation than before. There are fewer presuppositions we might make as regards their general religious belief and prac-tices prior to their becoming.candidates for~ the religious life. The same may be said as regards their family train- I g Cornelius M. Cuyler, S.S., The Changing Direction o] thv Semi-nary Today (Washington: CARA, 1969). .I-÷ ÷ VOLUME 2% 197'0 ]. D Keller REVIEW FOR R[ LIGIOUS ing with regard to manners, use of time, their study habits, recreation, family life style, family authority roles, and so forth. These facts are facts of experience. It is not to say, necessarily, that life in community will be more difficult; but it does say that the trend toward longer pe-riods of probation and orientation is called for. There is a great deal that has to be "got used to." And we must be very patient. As regards background, there is a certain ambivalence in many candidates from another quarter. They are af-fected by a certain "image-lag." The monastic and tradi-tional concepts of priest and religious are still frequently present to the man considering seeking admittance to the religious life. Yet, for the most part, the candidate meets not the bell and cowl, but the call to be his own man and shirtsleeves. The men quickly adjust and very soon one-up us with their call for sandals and beards, but this is a crucial point for many as one image dissolves and the search for a new and more realistic one takes place. Candidates must be taken as they are and from where they are. The need at the moment, as perhaps it was also in the days of our own formation period, is for tremen-dous amounts of firm patience. (2) A second observation on our candidates: They ap-pear to me to be no more nor no less generous than other persons of other times and other places and in other walks of life whom I have known. To oversell their generosity at the offset is to provide the seedbed for the bitterness and resentment toward our new members which is sometimes disturbingly present both among men in the houses of formation and superiors of communities. Our candidates are aspirants--aspiring toward the ideal of Christ's generosity--but they are frequently selfish, their motivation (like ours) is not always 100% pure. And so in the proposing of our programs and in the formulation of policy, we want no penal colony; we do not want to poison the well of our trust in the possibility of doing good with a Lud~eran conception of man's ne'er-do-well nature, but we must accept the fact that selfishness and ignorance do coexist with a man's desire to make a gift of his service and of himself. High ideals coupled with selfish or inconsistent behavior do form a part of the men who wish to join our fraternities. This should not cause alarm: To help resolve this is one of the reasons for their being in training. (3) Our candidates, generally, come 'with the intent of joining in with us. They do want to be a part of what is going on in the religious family. A delicate process must be going on in which the men do feel that they are mem-bers of the fraternity according to their present commit-ment. They must be exposed to the community's mere- bership; join in (in differenlt capacities) the work of the fraternity; be closely linked with the style of life and values of the community. But at the same ume their in-volvement must not be too rapid: predetermined patterns and strong identification with the status quo might cancel out the fresh and renewing insights and contnbutxons of young members; premature inclusion might, make neces-sary withdrawal from the group more difficult or the need to withdraw less apparent; full exposure to all the prob-lems and "intimacies" of the family are not appropriate for the recently arrived and ~often can be a source of dis-traction for the real person,al work at hand. The need for committingl oneself to something is real and we dare not involve ourselves, once having accepted a candidate, in stringing hi.m along indefinitely. Candi-dates should become less and less strangers in our midst and more and more our friends and brothers, or they should leave. The task of formation is also that of inte-gration. Formation" The very notion of "formation" is under attack from some quarters: formation involves being "conformed to"; there is a mold, then, and the program is the cookie punch. Formation, then, is a, threat to the person and his own unique realization of himself. Formation, therefore, is bad and one more examp~le of the dehumanization of the individual not only present in the world but here too in the religious life. That is how the argument runs, and it is buttressed with innumerable examples from the folk-lore of community and convent. If this is what formation is.thought to be, or what it has been, it deserves condemnation. But this argumentation against formation may be refined; examples brought more into line with present practice; the extension of its con-demnation reduced--in gen,~ral, made more reasonable; and it will contain a more s~rious threat to what, I feel, must be involved in the intro~duction of new men into our fraternities. Candidates are joining a pre-existing group of men. They are joining themselves to and identifying them-selves with certain expressed, values and goals. There is a conformation element in the introduction of members to the community. This is related to the discussion by Branick of task and formation in the fine article pub-lished in the RrvlEw FOR I~LIGIOUS last year) This is a fact, I feel, which should not be minimized (personalized, yes, but not minimized). On the contrary, we must at- *Vincent P. Branick, S.M., "Formation and Task," R~vmw RELIGIOUS, V. 28 (1969), pp. 12-20. ,4- 4. + Formation VOLUME 29, 1970 509 ÷ 4. ÷ I. D. Keller REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 511) tempt to give in theory, practice, and the lives of our members a clear representation of our goals, our values, our style of life, our standards--who the community .is. We have an obligation to do this: The candidate has to make a judgment, and he has to be a real sharer in or tending toward these values, goals, and so forth or we cannot hope that his life among us in the future will be a happy one. This brings up a problem which is not the subject of these remarks, but which must be faced: We must have a rather clear understanding of who we are and what we stand for as a community. This does not have to be pre-sented in verbal fashion. In fact it is most convincing when it is seen (not read or heard); but if we have no standards, if we are not clearly standing for something, perhaps we should call a moratorium on accepting candi-dates. All of us are aware of the changes taking place in our houses of formation as regards house rules and discipline. I believe most of us agree with the general thrust of these moves and changes; we accept the rationale behind them. With them as a backdrop I would like to make the fol-lowing observations: (1) Freedom of choice and personally confirmed activ-ity are essential to growth in maturity. But people do make objectively bad choices. And when, with reason, a person's choice is thought to be a bad one, he should be told so. And if a person consistently makes bad choices, his candidacy should seriously be questioned. (2) Frequently candidates' principal occupation is that of studies. It is urgent that the academic program be ex-cellent, that it be demanding of the best the student pos-sesses. The good candidate wants to work; he is being prepared to work in the vineyard; if the candidate finds himself unable to work, he and his superiors, may take this as indication that he is not called to the brotherhood. (3) The period of training is real training for. There is a need, at times, for explicit correlation of the training and the work of the apostolate. This is particularly true of men in the college years. Not only the demands of the future apostolate, but also the present need of these Chris-tians to express their Christian concern for fellowman suggests the desirability and the practice of "apostolic works" during the years of formation. It is well that this be with men of the community already in the field; in works which are allied to the present and future works of the fraternity; that it be work with supervision and encouragement; that it be work with specific goals in mind and which meets the real needs of people in the area. But the experience of many is that this work can easily become overextended, irresponsibly carried out, and serve more as steam cock for seminary pressures than re-sponse to the needs of others. This is not to minimize the value and need of apostolic works. On the contrary, it is to say that because they are important, they deserve greater attention. (4) Part of formation today must include training in the forms of religious obedience which are taking shape in our orders. If the form adopted is one which is relying on consultation with the community, a kind of collegial-ity and consensus, then men must be prepared to accept this responsibility and share in it intelligently. What must be developed, in view of failures in practice which I have witnessed in our own formed communities, is the accept-ance of the fact that regardless of the form in which deci-sions are reached (perhaps after discussion, consensus, and voting), .there is follow-through: though perhaps now seen as more "horizontal," obedience is still a virtue of religion and a normal extended expression of the will of God. (5) In general, there is a great need in formation for more leadership, not less. For the most part, students want more models, more example. They need more en-couragement to reach higher. In this regard I would rec-ommend highly John Gardner's two books Excellence and Self-Renewal.4 And so while authoritarianism will never do, there is in some parts a crippling vacuum of inspiring leadership and demanding standards. Spiritual Lile From "formation" I would like to move on to the sub-ject of the spiritual life. And as I do I would like to call attention to the principal point I wish to make, and at this moment violate. Formation and the spiritual life should not be taken as separate elements of introducing new members into our life. There are elements of discipline and training which we can separate and discuss as it they were separate. But the overriding impact upon the candidates in the house of formation must be that all is marked by the Spirit. We are brothers because we are all possessed by the same Spirit: our rules, discipline, relations between older and younger members, concern for each other, should all be formed by and judged against the Book of Life and the book of our life together. In this regard, conformity to good educational prac- ' John W. Gardner, Excellence: Can We Be Equal and Excellent Too. Renewal: The Individual and the Innovating Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1956). Formation VOLUME 2% 1970 4" 4" ÷ ~. D. Keller REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU5 tice seems imperative. Theory and practice must go side by side. And if we must err (as human it is), far better to be heavier on practice than on theory. Let the house of formation practice a real poverty, let the students realize the cost of living, the budget and the crimp of doing without--far better than theorizing. Let there be good liturgy in the house and let it be a central work and con-cern of the community--far better than a course in lit- There might be one exceptionmthe matter of prayer. Many students are inexperienced in the practice of forms of prayer encouraged in our lives. This most personal and delicate area must receive special attention. If riot, we in-troduce the. possibility of impersonal prayer and innumer-able "periods of prayer" which become education in non-prayer. All of our houses, but especially our houses of forma-tion, should show forth this authenticity: 1.ire in the Spirit finds expression in the life of the community--a kind of symbiosis where there is an unconscious flow and tele-vance of one to the other. In all the seminaries and houses of formation I have come in contact with recently, there is a noteworthy point of emphasis being given in the task of spiritual formation. This is the increased importance and use of what has tra-ditionally been called "spiritual direction." It goes by dif-ferent names and the priests and religious involved in it have varying competence, but its value as being very per-sonal and very helpful is quickly appreciated by our can-didates. Though conferences and classes remain necessary in providing a familiarity with our religious tradition, no house of formation should neglect this tremendous oppor-tunity, nor should religious superiors neglect the effort to provide easy access to the spiritual counselors our young members need. One final point with regard to the spiritual life--the much discussed question of religious chastity and celibacy. My experience in discussing the matter with college stu-dents, candidates for the diocesan priesthood and for the religious life, has been that it is far more a problem for journalists, theologians, and men who are already celi-bates than it is for these men. That is not to say that they do not have trouble with the virtue of chastity, nor diffi-culty in whether or not to make the choice for celibacy, or whether or not they are Opposed to celibacy as an obliga-. tory thing. It is to say that they can see celibacy held as both an ideal and a requirement and feel that they can make a personal, non-compelled, and religiously mean-ingful choice in favor of it. This contradicts the conclu- sions of the recent CARA study on the Seminarians ot the Sixties," but I report to you my personal experience. General Observations I would like to bring these remarks to a close with several general observations on our present situation. There are many possibilities for styles of formation. Most communities are presently in the midst of inaugu-rating revised programs. What needs to be said is that most probably many forms will "work" and different combinations of elements can overcome the deficiencies of a program. Students are willing to overlook the inade-quacies, or at least give them their understanding, as long as we show ourselves aware of them and attempt to compensate--and all the time show the interest which proves we care about them as candidates for full mem-bership and our brothers now. Houses of formation and formation programs are not, nor will they be, perfect. As our congregations and the Church herself, the house of formation will always stand in need of reformation. This fact itself can be educative for our students: houses of training will not be ideal, as life in the ministry and full membership in the commu-nity will not be ideal. This might be a source of rein-forcement for the sense of reality in the candidate needed for mature living and decision. In these moments there is a great need for leadership and encouragement in the works of formation as there is in the Church in general. For new members in particular, uncertainty and hesitancy on the part of those to whom they turn for leadership can be not only crippling but also compound the lack of sureness (despite their some-time's cocky appearances) which surrounds the young. In conclusion, may I point out the obvious and be ex-cused for underlining that which stands in bold print: In the selection of personnel for houses of formation, hap-piness in their own calI must be the primary requisite for such an appointment. And yet one more point: most of our houses have small groups of students and even where the groups are large the cadre system is frequently being employed. This means total immersion for the members of the staff and large amounts of wear and tear. Each member of the entire community does well to attempt to offer them his understanding and cooperation. This, fre-quently, is a very large contribution to the task which is vitally important to all of us, that of initiating new mem-bers into our fraternities. ~Raymond H. Potvin and Antanas Subiedelis, Seminarians ]or the Sixties: ,,1 National Survey (Washington: CARA, 1969), p. 89. + + + Formatlo. VOLUME 29, 1970 HUGH KELLY, s.J. The Heart oj Prayer ÷ Hugh Kelly, is on the staff of St. Francis Xavier's; Gardiner Street; Dublin 1, Ireland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 51,t "Lord, teach us how to pray." "When you pray say 'Our Father' " (Lk 11:1) That isa petition we must constantly address to our Lord. We must not expect to be taught how to pray once and for all so that we could exercise the art at will, as if we were masters of it. We must constantly be trying, ex-perimenting, learning. Of course if things between God and us were as they should be and as they once were, then prayer would be the most spontaneous, the most natural act of our life. It would not need to be learned. It would be as spontaneous as the smile of a child to its mother; as natural as the thrust upward of the cornstalk to the heat and light of the sun. There was something of that quality in the prayer of the Psalmist. The world about him spoke at once to him of the Creator. Everything in the universe pointed to God and invited him to pray. The sea, sky, earth, the'trees, the storm, the snow, the animals --all of these reminded him that he must praise God for them. Such a prayer was as natural, as necessary, as the act of breathing. It had not to be learned. It was a func-tion of man's activity. For reasons we need not stop to consider, that quality is no longer found in our prayer, or very seldom. Our relations with God are not so spontaneous. Man has so changed the world that it is difficult to see the hand of God in it. As a result prayer has become a complex thing, an art, that has to be learned and practiced with effort. Consider the excellent book of Cardinal Lercaro, Meth-ods of Prayer. It is a study of the different ways of prayer proposed by some of the recognized masters of the spiri-tual life. Each has his own approach and method of pro-cedure. But such methods could not be called spontane-ous or simple. They are elaborately studied. One of the masters, treated of by Lercaro is St. Ignatius. Here is how this saint introduces a prayer, the first meditation in the Spiritual Exercises: "This meditation is made with the three powers of the soul, and the subject is the first, second and third sin. It contains the preparatory prayer, two preludes, three principal points and a colloquy" (n. 46). Whatever the merits of such a form of prayer it could not be called simple or spontaneous. When we consider these different methods, which are so complex and so systematic, we may well ask if there is not somewhere in them a core or kernel of a purer prayer. If we unwrap the different layers, the steps, the tech-niques, shall we find at last something that is the heart or essence of prayer? "Is there.an essential prayer?" asks Y. Congar, O.P., "total, simple, which exceeds and em-braces all particular prayers?'; (Jesus Christ, p. 98). Is there something at the centre of each method, which is the same for all and which constitutes them true prayer? Something which, if absent, will leave them merely empty methods or systems? None of the commonly received definitions of prayer seem to give us what we seek. The definition of St. John Climacus, which is accepted by the catechism, that "prayer is an elevation of the soul to God" implies too much of a deliberate effort--that it is a matter of our own efforts and our own mmauve. It might equally apply to the study of theology, especially as it says noth-ing about love. The definition of St. Augustine comes closer to our aim: that prayer is a reaching out to God in love. Here there is indicated something spontaneous and natural; the role of love gets its recognition. But perhaps it speaks too much of our need of God and may be trans-lated too exclusively into a prayer of petition. It conveys the image the saint expressed in his phrase menclici Dei sumus--we are God's beggars; we stand before the Lord with outstretched hands. Our need of God is total; but our indigence is not our only approach to Him or our most immediate; it is not the ultimate root of our prayer. The words which kept St. Francis of Assisi in ecstasy for a whole night, "'Deus mi et omnia,'" "My God and my all," are certainly close to the heart of prayer. But they miss the essential constituent and inspiration of our prayer, that it is made to our Father. Obviously it is from our Lord alone that we must learn what is the heart of prayer. "Lord,. teach fis how to pray." It is instructive to note the promptness with which He answered that request, as if He had been waiting for it: "When you pray say 'Our Father.' " The condition of our most perfect prayer must be our assurance that we are addressing our Father, that we are addressing Him as Christ did. We are thus availing ourselves of the privilege which Christ won for us. When He said to Mary Magdalen, on the first Easter morning beside the opened empty tomb, "I ascend to My Father and to yours," He summarized His work of redemption: He ex-pressed the full dimension of His achievement. When we ÷ 4- Heart ot Prayer VOLUME 2% 1970 Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS say "Our Father" with the assurance which His Beloved Son has given us, we no longer pray merely as creatures, we are not considered by God as the beggars who stand at the door, still less as the puppies which catch the scraps falling from the table. We know we are the children of the household who have their rightful pla~e at the family board. Consider how our Lord emphasized the fatherhood of God in the Sermon on the Mount. The chief purpose of the discourse was to instruct us in our role as children: "That you may be the children of your Father, who is in heaven." Stretching out His hands to the simple folk, the fathers and mothers who sat around, He asked: "Which of you would give your child a stone, when he asks for bread? or a scorpion when he asks for a fish?" We can sense the movement of indignant rejection of such con-duct, in their faces and gestures. No, no; they would never dream of treating their little ones in that way. And then He points the lesson: "If you, evil though you are, can give good things to your children, how much more your Father in heaven will give good things to those who ask?" The little spark of love in a human father's heart which will urge him to be good to his child, what is it to the love in the heart of our Father in Heaven, from whom comes all parents' love? Nemo tam Pater, there is no father like God, St. Augustine reminds us. How much His Sonship meant to Christ, we gather from every page' of the Gospel. It is the source of His joy, confidence, exaltation. It is the support of His strength, His endurance, His resolve to carry out the mis-sion for which He was sent into the world. His life was entirely oriented to the will of His Father, was totally responsive to it. That orientation, that dependence, is His chief lesson to us. We too are sons of God and it should be the deliberate effort of our spiritual life to give our divine adoption its true place in our dealings with God, and not least in our prayer. "Our Father" might well serve us as the true heart of prayer. But there is another phrase of Christ, equally short, and perhaps even more full of suggestion, which might well give us what we are seeking. He spoke the phrase on the occasion of the return of the disciples from the short trial mission on which He had sent them to the cities of Israel to prepare the way for His own coming (Lk 10:17; Mt 11:25). Seeing their naive, childish joy in their suc-cess--" Lord, even the demons were subjected to us"--He thanked His Father for revealing to those little ones the spiritual truths He had concealed from the wise and prudent: "Yes, Father, so it was pleasing in your sight." Ira, Pater: "Yes, Father." This is His shortest prayer, and it is perhaps His most comprehensive one. It gives us His abiding attitude of mind to His Father. It reveals that His soul and spirit were always open to the Father, al-ways fully responsive to the Father's will. At first sight they indicate merely a mood of resignation and accept-ance, such as He showed especially in Gethsemane and on Calvary: "Not My will but Thine be done." But the words "Yes, Father" have a wider and deeper connota-tion. They cover all the emotions and reactions which were His as He looked on His Father's face. They ex-pressed not merely acceptance and submission; they con-vey approval, admiration, joy, praise, and most of all a loving agreement with all His Father is and does and asks. "It cannot be questioned," says Yves Congar, O.P., "that the prayer of loving, joyous adherence to the will of the Father was coextensive with the whole earthly life of Jesus" (Jesus Christ, 'p. 93). Perhaps in these words "Yes, Father" we too can find the heart and essence of our prayer and in some remote way may learn the prayer of our Lord. After all we are sons of the Son; we have within us His spirit who inspires us to say "Abba Father" --we may then without presumption make bold to say "Our Father" or "Yes, Father." These phrases indicate a prayer which is contempla-tion. They give the attitude of a soul which is facing God, looking at Him, listening to Him. "All prayer," says Y. Congar, "is communion in the will and mystery of God. This essential prayer consists in being receptive and wholly offered to God, so that He might be God not only in Himself---but also in His creatures" (Jesus Christ, p. 98). This prayer opens out the soul to catch the influ-ence of God. It looks to God expectantly to see, to learn, to receive, to respond, to admire, to accept, to praise, to approve, to thank. It mirrors in some way the riches of God. It will try to express itself sometimes in our Lord's words: "All My things are Thine and Thine are Mine" (Jn 17:10); sometimes in the words of the Psalmist: "What have I in heaven but Thee and there is nothing upon earth that I desire besides Thee" (Ps 72:26). St. Francis expressed this attitude to God in the words "Deus mi et omnia"--"My God and my all." Thomas "~ Kempis has voiced it in his great hymn of love: "A loud cry in the ears of God is that ardent affection of soul which says: My God, my love, Thou are all mine and I am all Thine; enlarge me in Thy love" (Imitation III:5). This is a rich prayer in which the constituents of all other kinds of prayers are found. It can register adoration, praise, thanks, petition, reverence, submission, offering, accept-ancemall the different moods of the soul when it feels its proximity to God. The phrase "Yes, Father" gives an at-mosphere, an attitude which "is one of total prayer, in which seeing and self-directing to what is seen, receiving ÷ ÷ ÷ Heart oy Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and self-giving, contemplation and going out from self, are all present, indistinguishably at the very core" (von Balthasar, Prayer, p. 65). This is substantially the re-sponse to the call of God. It is the response of the boy Samuel: "Here I am, for you called me" (1 Sam $:5). God made the first advance to man and spoke to him in His word: a word of love, an invitation to hear what God had planned and designed for His creatures~"Prayer," says von Balthasar again, "is communication in which God's word has the initiative and we at first are simple listeners. Consequently what we have to do is, first, listen to God's word and then through that word learn how to answer" (Prayer, p. 12). When this prayer of contemplation, of presence, reaches a certain degree of intensity, as with the mystics, it will be beyond the reach of analysis or explanation. The soul will remain passive, absorbed in God, knowing only how sweet it is to be so close to Him. But that state of intensity will not be frequent. Normally those who pray in this way are able to give some account of their meeting with God, to distinguish certain forms and fea-tures of prayer, and to realize how rich it is. We have access to the Father only through the Son. We are the sons of God because we share the sonship of Christ. Our prayer then must have the qualities of the prayer of Christ--we can speak in His words and make His prayer ours. The Father will recognize the prayers of His adopted sons as the blind Isaac recognized the voice of his younger son. There are certain notes and tones very frequent in the prayer of Christ which we must make our own. The Mass mentions these prayers explicitly: "He gave you thanks and prayers." And the Gospel testifies abundantly to them. They should be the chief features in our prayer. We should praise God just because He is God and most worthy of our praise. Our praise is the expression of the desire we have that He may be God in Himself and in His creatures. It is the theme of the first part of the Lord's prayer; it is the most frequent prayer of the Psalms. It is the highest, the most disinterested form of prayer. It is the opening note of the Magnificat, the prayer of our Lady spoken when the mystery of the Incarnation was at its newest. If prayer at its best is a loving attachment to God's will, then the prayer of praise must be the fullest attachment to God's will because it is God's will primarily that He should be God. The prayer of thanks may often be a variant of the prayer of praise. "We give Thee thanks for Thy great glory" the Church proclaims in the Gloria. We thank God for being Himself. Even if we owed nothing to Him, He would be most worthy of thanks just for being Him- self, the all powerful, the all perfect. But while fie is ill-finitely great He is infinitely good to us and therefore we must never cease to thank Him. That was the abiding mood of our Lord's soul: "Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard me. I know that Thou hearest me al-ways" (Jn 12:41). Our prayer then as sons of God must be as far as we can the the prayer of the only begotten Son, whose Sonship we share. It must express the fullest at-tachment to the will of the Father. It must be compact of adoration, submission, acceptance, all of these as expres-sions of love. We are justified in thinking that our Lady's prayer was of this kind, but in the highest degree. Her prayer was in a unique way a prayer of presence. It was fed from a double source. There was her interior union with the Holy Spirit who had come upon her and had done mighty things for her. But her interior contemplation of God and His design in the Incarnation was immensely deepened by her contact with her Son, the Word made flesh tlu'ough her. In a unique way she was in contact with the Word of God. She was more in contact with it than St. John and could give a greater testimony than his "What we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life--the life was made manifest and we saw it and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life which was with the Father and was made manifest to us" (1 Jn 1:1-2). In the visible presence of her Son she was always gazing on the Word, always listening to it. We are told explicitly of her study of Him, how she kept all His words and deeds in her heart and turned them over in con-templation. This was most truly a prayer of presence. She had but to open her eyes and ears and her mind would be flooded with light. How deeply would His words and deeds speak to one so disposed to hear, to a handmaid so responsive to the Father. When she turned over in her mind what she saw with her senses, what floods of light, what insight and consolation came to her. Who could tell of her growth in the knowledge of God in the long silent years at Nazareth? What more appro-priate prayer could she make than "Yes, Father" in which she gave a wholehearted approval to God's designs? On the eve of His passion Our Lord could give a sad repri-mand to the Apostles--"So long a time have I been with you and you have not known Me." We feel that He could not have given such a reprimand to His Mother though her insight and knowledge were gradual and ever grow-ing. Her prayer must have been an openness to God, a love of His will, a resolve to accept it and do it that could be found only in one so deeply concerned with the eternal designs of God. + 4- + Heart o] Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 519 Perhaps in such phrases as "Our Father" or "Yes, Father" we are at the heart 9f prayer and can find in them that which was the core of all the methods. Perhaps if we bypass the preludes, the techniques, the preliminaries, and enter 'at once into the presence of God and greet Him in such words, we shall experience that our prayer will become what it should be: natural and spontaneous, a genuine communication with God. Perhaps we are too eager to do the talking, to tell God "various things He knows already." We try to take the lead in the interviews --we expect God to be the patient listener. But surely this is a reversal of roles: "What do we do, when at prayer, but speak to a God who long ago revealed himself to man in a word so powerful and all-embracing that it can never be solely of the past but continues to resound through the ages?" (yon Balthasar, Prayer, p. 12). In the words, "Yes, Father" or "Our Father" we take up the true atti-tude of prayer. We stand before God, we listen to Him, we wait to know His will and His good pleasure; and these short forms of prayer will reveal our response to His word, our docility and submission, our gratitude and praise, and first and last our love. 4. 4. Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 5~0 ROBERT J. OCHS, S.J. Imagination, Wit, and Fantasy in Prayer Robert: How do you mean? voices? Joan: I hear voices telling me what to do. They come from God. Robert: They come from your imagination. Joan: Of course. That is how the messages of God come to us. riG. B. Shaw, St. Joan. This article is in the nature of a plea, even a kind of court plea, for a fcesh look at what used to be called dis-cursive prayer. Inasmuch as it is a court plea, it is a plea of "not guilty." This fresh look might exonerate dis-cursive prayer of two charges commonly leveled against it: of being dry meditation and of being the lowest rung on the prayer ladder, a step quickly taken on the way to the higher prayer of quiet. As we shall see, these two charges are not unconnected. If discursive prayer runs quickly dry, it is no wonder people look for something higher and it deserves its bottom rung. "Exonerating discursive prayer of guilt" is a metaphor. But exonerating those who practise it from their guilt complex is not. They do feel vaguely guilty before God and themselves when they are unsuccessful at it; and when successful they still feela kind of-inferiority com-plex about its lowly status, a feeling that by now they should have advanced beyond it to the prayer of quiet. They feel the only way of progress is up, and so they re-peat their occasional efforts at the prayer of quiet, with middling success. There would be scant harm in this if the prestige of the prayer of quiet did not relegate them to the role of spiritual slum dwellers, blocking their imaginations from exploring the possibilities which lie hidden under the forbidding category of "discursive prayer." This plea has two parts. One is to broaden the scope of discursive prayer to include fantasy, affective reactions (annoyance, complaining, rebellion as well as fervor; 4- 4- 4- Robert J. Ochs, S.J., is a faculty member of Bellar-mine School of Theology; North Aurora, Illinois 60542. VOLUME 29, 1970 521 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. 7. Ochs, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS desolation as well as consolation), and, not least, wit, an imaginative use of our heads. The other part is histori-cal, a look at the original narrowing of scope of dis-cursive prayer in the 16th and 17th centuries, which soon brought religious writers [ace to face with the widespread "problem of dryness" and issued in the recommendation of the prayer of simplicity as a solution. Not that it was a bad solution. The prayer of quiet is an excellent method for those who can use it. Leonard Boase's book The Prayer of Faith, recommending it again so persuasively-some years ago, came as a real release for many. But I would venture a guess that for every person who was liberated by it, two others eventually felt them-selves hampered, and dissipated their efforts to explore further in a discursive way. And Father Boase's sugges-tion that the night of sense (which includes a night of the intellect), an intense but brief period for great souls like John of the Cross, lasts a lifetime for the common lot, sounded like a sentence to an unlivable life in the twi-light. Boase conceived the work of the mind and imagina-tion as a linear, undialectical, and conflictless a.bsorption of the truths of revelation, that reaches its saturation point rather quickly. It is pretty much limited to medi-tation "in the sense of methodical, analytic study of sacred truth" (p. 47). Not surprisingly, such a simple absorption process can hardly be expected to last a life-time, and before long "the sponge is full" (~i6). Further activity of the mind can only lead to boredom, and so one had best turn to a quiet contemplative view of the whole. Reading Boase one gets the impression that the evolution of prayer is all rather tranquil and uneventful. No doubt our poor prayer seems to prove him right. And yet, one cannot help suspecting that beneath the placid surface of our not very exciting prayer a passion-ate world is seething. The itinerary Boase sketches (ad-mittedly, I am caricaturing this excellent book a bit) takes us along the periphery of this turbulent interior world instead of through it. One has only to recall the eventful cri~es which mark the milestones in any psychoanalysis to sense that something is missing. Ronald Laing has sug-gested that for all our interiority we moderns are living in another Dark Age, before the Age of Exploration of the interior world. The model for "appropriating the faith" might well be exploration and confrontation rather than simple absorption. The eminent historian of modern spirituality, Louis Cognet, has recently tried to get at the origins of this atrophy of discursive prayer. In some homey and yet polemical pages (Les probl~mes de la spiritualitd; Ch. 5; also La prikre du chrdtien, Ch. 8--both Paris: Cerf, 1967), he has attacked what he feels to be a centuries old misunderstanding. The anti-meditation bias arose out of a series of historical accidents in the 16th century and has narrowed the scope of prayer ever since. As he tells it, theology in the late Middle Ages had taken on a highly rationalistic form, becoming a domain of specialists, cut off from interior sources. Spirituality was divorced from it, and therefore divorced from any searching theological activity. Methodical prayer, using simple meditation man-uals, was introduced to provide the uncultured with something more accessible. Thus "meditation" came to be associated with this new idea of untheological prac-tical prayer. Its practice spread so that even the educated depended on these manuals for prayer. By the time so-called mental prayer had become general practice, the impression was also well established that it built on a narrow intellectual base~ The theologically educated lived split lives. However imaginatively they might use their wits otherwise, "mental" prayer engaged their minds very little. Frustration was not long in coming. Cognet is struck by the simultaneous emergence all over Europe of a new problem for the religious writers of this period~ the prob-lem of dryness and disgust. Theorists had to find a way of explaining and coping with the distaste which seemed to afflict educated people who embarked on mental prayer for any length of time. The generally accepted so-lution was to suppose that discursive prayer was just an elementary stage. Dryness was taken as a sign that this stage had served its purpose and should be left behind for more simple forms. Discourse in words and images was to give way to a contemplative look. This scheme became generally adopted during the 17th century. We find it in St. Teresa and John of the Cross whose authority has made it accepted in treatises on prayer down to our own day. It was a good solution for the problem so conceived. It served to highlight the special nature of the prayer of quiet, for which many had a real capacity. But others who could not follow this way out, whose prayer re-mained obstinately discursive for all their efforts to fol-low the "normal" trajectory toward the prayer of sim-plicity, felt condemned to the meagre means available at the elementary level of the spiritual life. Cognet claims that this inferiority complex has hampered growth in prayer ever since. A realignment is therefore called for, Cognet insists. We must especially remind ourselves that the "traditional view" is relatively modern, and ruled by a particular view of prayer conceived to answer concrete problems of the VOLUME 29, Z970 4. ÷ 4. R. I. Ochs, sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS late Middle Ages and early Modern period. It was not always so. As far as we are in a position to reconstitute the prayer, of St. Augustine, for example, we must con-clude that he remained'discursive all his life, for all the contemplative aspects of his'prayer. This discursive form did not keep him from the heights of prayer. Nor did it keep Cardinal Berulle on an elementary level. Above all, we should emphasize that these psychological forms of one's prayer.are secondary, that it is one's relation to God in prayer which is fundamental. We should encourage a freer, more pragmatic attitude toward these forms, and arrange them less into stages. The psychological mani-festations of one's relationship to God are more a matter of temperament and style, and even of periods of one's life, which follow a rhythm back and forth from dis-cursive to "contemplative, rather than a set progression from one to the other. Even St. Teresa wrote abundant narratives about her prayer; and Jeanne de Chantal, after a period when she could not start the Our Father without falling into ecstasy, used discursive forms in the same way as the rest of us. Obviously, more is at stake in correcting this mis-understanding than freeing discursively oriented people from their inferiority complexes. (It is a bit hard to imagine vast numbers of people consciously suffering from the classical division into stages, in our contempo-rary scramble for any form of prayer which makes sense.) What is at stake is breaking open the category of dis-cursive prayer, giving scope for people to explore it with more confidence of finding something. At stake is healing the rift between theology and prayer in our own religious sensibility, learning to pray with our minds as well as our hearts (and theologize with our affectivity as well as our heads). There is no mindless prayer of the heart. Human affectivity is saturated with meaning. Closing the gap between spirituality and theology means breaking down prejudices built into the Christian prayer consciousness over generations, prejudices that thinking in prayer can only be idle curiosity, speculation about bloodless truths, asking impertinent questions pi-ous minds were never meant to ask. But there is the book of Job to make it clear that our minds were meant to ask. Surely a great curiosity about divine things is not foreign to prayer. Man was meant to argue with God. The Lord even demands that His people ask an explanation from him. The prophets had questions to put to the Lord who called them. And Mary answered the angel with the question: "How shall these things be?" Besides the prejudice against asking questions in prayer, there is another against using the imagination. Imagination and fantasy could well be what is required to bring heart and mind back together in prayer. Both theology and spirituality, as they are now, suffer from not being sufficiently tooted in the imagination. Discursive prayer does employ imagination and fantasy, but in a feeble, and, one might say, witless way. What is needed is a bolder use of fantasy.in prayer, a parallel to the bold-ness recommended above in asking questions of God. The Esalen Institute, for example, has uncovered re-markable abilities to fantasize in outwardly bland people. Its use of fantasy can teach us something. In guided fan-tasies, for instance, any blocks that occur are looked on as highly revelatory. A person embarking on a fantasy trip through his own body may suddenly find his body impenetrable, or, once inside, find he has no access to his heart. The important element to note here, for method, is that the person follows his fantasy, that there are things the person can and cannot do spontaneously in fantasy, because of their meaningful affective charge. This is much more concrete than our usual attempts to imagine our-selves present in a gospel scene where we try to elicit "appropriate" feelings and, when they are not forth-coming, dismiss our inability unreflectively as just an-other bad meditation. Closer to what masters like St. Ignatius must have had in mind is one case I am familiar with, where a man who had been unable to pray for years began a retreat by imagining himself at Bethlehem but found he could not enter the cave. Feelings of un-worthiness, and of simply not being welcome, blocked his fantasy at that point. He and his director interpreted this, not as an inability to "make the contemplation," but as a sign that he was praying; and he continued to imag-ine himself barred at the entrance to the cave in his repe-titions of the contemplation. After two days of this, dur-ing which the resentments and hopes of his whole past life welled up within him, he reported that he was in-vited to go in. The fantasy, with the block and its resolu-tion, was so much the man himself that it became the carrier for a real encounter and meant the turning point of his spiritual life. These short examples of how the use of mind and imag-ination might be broadened are, of course, not cited merely as .gimmicks, but hopefully as indications of a wider dimension and as reminders of how sluggishly we have used them in the past. Limitations of space preclude elaborating them more. Numerous qualifications would also be in order---discernment to avoid equating the in-terior world with God and our feelings with his Holy Spirit. But God does speak to us in our thoughts and. imaginations, or He cannot reach us at all. + ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, As a conclusion let me cite the words Robert Bolt gives to Thomas More in A Man/or All Seasons: "God made the angels to show him splendor--as he made animals [or innocence and plants for their simplicity. But Man he made to serve him wittily, in the tangle o[ his mind." The way through a tangle is discursive and dialectical. + + + R. 1. O~h,, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH T. FORGUE, F.S.C. Religious Life and the Educational ApostOlate Apparent to many engaged in the task of reformulation of the structures of the religious life is the inadequacy of mere personalism to remedy mechanical institutionalism. What seems to be necessary is an approach at once task oriented while incorporating the wide range of personal concerns. The following--an interpretation of the docu-ment The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration-- is offered as a model of just such an approach. What are the brothers? It might be said that they are men who, with lucid faith and burning zeal, serve the poor through Christian education, by establishing them-selves as a disciplined community. To be sure, there are many persons with lucid faith and burning zeal; many who serve the poor; many committed to Christian educa-tion; and there are many disciplined communities. The Brothers of the Christian Schools, I suggest, are a unique dynamic convergence of faith and zeal expressed through Christian education on behalf of the poor, facilitated and sustained through the mechanism and mystery of dis-ciplined community life. Christian Education in Service of the Poor In the first place there is the logical and historical pri- ÷ ority that leads to understanding the brothers' coming ÷ together as task oriented. To be sure, the quality of their + corporate lives must go beyond the task; but the task-- Christian education in the service of the poor--is the ini-tial and sustaining motivation for the community. To b~ concerned with an educational task is to partici- ¯ pate in the cumulative process of building the "new age of mankind." It is to foster the development of the noosphere, that network of human cohesion based on the twin dynamism of knowledge and love. To educate is to 527 Joseph T. Forgue, F.S.C., is a faculty member of Chris-tian Brothers Col-lege; Memphis, Tennessee ~8104. VOLUME 29, 1970 ¯ J, T, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS provoke and to evoke an ever increasing growth in criti-cal self-consciousness, to elicit insightful understanding of the structural realities of the world. Education that is in the service of the poor is educa-tion which recognizes that the thrust of history pulsates primarily among the poor. Education that is Christian is education which recognizes that all structures are on be-half of persons, aiding them toward personal and com-munal growth in responsible freedom. Christian educa-tion in service of the poor responds to those who suffer from the imperfections in society and understands that to realistically participate in its task, there must be real and co-ordinated contact with all strata of society for the sake of societal change. The educational task of the brothers, then, ought to be both comprehensive: urban, rural, suburban; and far-reaching: formal and informal. Urban education seeks to minister to the persons who suffer most immediately the brunt of the radical trans-formation in the human self-image caused by the tech-nologization of society. The historic thrust of the broth-ers adds the further dimension: a preference for the. poor of the inner city. Rural education seeks to foster the em-pathy and radicalization necessary for those not touched directly by urban awareness--and this to develop a sense of responsibility for the solutions to the problems of the city. The educational task in the suburbs--similar to the rural task---seeks to promote a sense of unity with, and responsibility for, the city. The result aimed at: the shat-tering of isolationist attitudes reinforced by provincial governmental boundaries. In order to reach all the people, the comprehensive ed-ucational task must be far-reaclfing. The brothers are called to operate through the academic framework of the school (formal education) and to include as an integral dimension of their work various educational endeavors that are outside the regular academic structure (informal education). Disciplined Community Just as historically John de La Salle was confronted by the educational task that was needed and in meeting that need discovered the need for a task force, so the contem-porary need of Christian education in service of the poor requires the existence of a disciplined community. The interpersonal dimensions of men risking their lives to live together in celibate community are not to be slighted, but such dimensions are not the reason for the brothers' coming together as an institute larger than one community. If such were the reason, the need for cor-porate structure apart from or beyond the "local group" would be unnecessary. Hence in describing the Brothers of the Christian Schools such considerations are omitted. They are presupposed as necessary for any human com-munity; they do not specify the uniqu.eness of the or-ganized religious life. The Brothers of the Christian Schools are disciplined-- that is, they have structured aspects of their living to-gether to hold up to themselves the continual demands oI the educational task. Traditionally such discipline has been called poverty, chastity, and obedience. Under the rubric of poverty, the brothers deny them-selves the personal use of individual salaries based on the market value o~ their work, pooling their regular moneys to manifest that they have staked their lives upon each other. Chastity refers to their decision.to live a non-family life style, symbolizing (and making really available) openness to personal mobility to insure meeting the fluc-tuating needs of the corporate task. Subjecting the indi-vidual direction of their careers to the approval of the corporation, the brothers under the rubric of obedience have decided that their individual efforts on behalf of mankind shall be united to, and co-ordinated with, the corporate task. To the traditional disciplines are added two others: one corporate: liturgy--the other personal: meditation. In liturgy the community agrees to meet in communal wor-ship. That is, it agrees to attempt to understand its re-sponse to the world in terms of meeting the demands of the Mysterious Unconditioned. The community under-stands its mission as the mission of the Church: mediating through the dynamic presence of the Spirit, the Father as revealed in Ghrist. Besides the communal necessity to come to grips with the presence of mystery, there is the demand for each to do so in his unique "being addressed" by God. Hence the need for meditation. The disciplined community is a community: which necessitates the decision to enter into regular, serious, personal dialogue on the part of whomever the demands of the corporate task have called to be comrades. There is the concern that comes of risking one's life upon the persons who share the taskmthe concern which enables the brothers to sustain their lives of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Further, the community is composed of brothers who wholeheartedly participate in the common work required when men live together, who foster the formal and in,or-real study and thought necessary for developing corporate self-understanding of their life in Christ, and who, fi-nally, simply let their hair down together in joyful cele-bration of their comradeship. VOLUME ~9 1970 ]. T. Forgue REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 550 Faith and Zeal The members of a disciplined community who are en-gaged in the corporate task of Christian education on be-half of the poor manifest the spirit of faith and zeal. The faith of such brothers is the free response they give to the experience of being addressed at the very core of their selfhood by the Absolutely Unconditioned--me-diated in our traditions by Christ. Further, such faith is global since it understands the free response to be neces-sarily comprehensive, relating to all men everywhere--a catholic faith. The faith of these brothers is futuric since they understand that their free and global response is to the demand that they live their lives on behalf of the fu-ture of men--to build the Body of Christ. The free, global, futuric faith has yet another dimen-sion: it is grateful. Such faith rests upon the gracious cumulative presence of God in history; it is a faith me-diated in time by the Church. Finally, the brothers rec-ognize their faithful response to be ambiguous, always under scrutiny, ever in need of perfection through the systematic prophetic questioning of its authenticity--a faith on the brink of unbelief. Just as the brothers' spirit of faith has five marks, so may the power of their zeal be sustained and characterized in a fivefold manner. The zeal of the brothers is manifested by their remain-ing articulate about the multiple dimensions of their professional field--education--and the specific academic discipline of their speciality. Since effective work demands coherence and specifica-tion the zeal of the brothers is characterized by planning. They must decide to operate on the corporate and indi-vidual level in response to the researched needs of the world as reflected in the specific areas they find them-selves. Such operation must be systematically efficient and highly co-ordinated. The brothers must be guided by the spirit of Romans 5:1,5, living the reality of zeal in terms of patience and persistence. They must suffer the presence of obstacles to their goals, take heart in the struggles they meet, and develop a sense of humor that will keep them from b-solutizing any aspect of their task. The brothers, giving every calorie of energy to their task, will live in the hope which is born of worthwhile effort. Finally, the zeal which sustains a group of Christian Brothers must develop a sensitivity to the real needs of the poor in their midst: that they might burn with a zeal that is salvific for men. Unknown to them will be de-structive fanaticism or self-aggrandizing complacency. Conclusion Such is a suggested model for understanding the broth-ers and their being-together. Unless religious operate out of some such corporate understanding; unless they ac-tually do act with an impact that is at once local, regional, national, and international; then there seems to be little justification for the life style they have chosen. + + ÷ vOLUME 29, 1970 CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. Community Life: Problematic and Some Reflections Charles Schleck, C.S.C., lives at 2300 Adeline Drive; Bur-lingame, California 94010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The problem of community life in religious institutes today is beset by many different factors both those of an environmental and ideological nature. There are first of all the conflicting currents of pressure with which man is faced in our contemporary societyA There is, for example, the problem of mobility, the fact that men can and do move around much more quickly than before, from one job to another, from one profession to another, from one place of residence to another. There is the consequent "need for change" which this very fact of mobility can easily cause. And very often connected with this, and fol-lowing from it, there is the experience of solitude or loneliness, plus the consequent uneasiness which this causes, not to say anxiety and anguish. There is the pro-found need for love and acceptance, and men are willing to do almost anything in order to get this. At the same time we find the presence of fear, the fear of being ab-sorbed by the impersonalism of our society, the fear of being rejected by others, fears which account for the rather bizarre and defensive behavior of so many, and fears which also account for the profound superficiality and veneerness of the relationships which persons do have--even those relationships which are entered into as an act of protest against other interrelationships. So often our relationships today are often marked by many words, and the doing of many things together, but by very little real personal communication or communion-- of the kind which leaves us free and which leaves others free as well. Thus, many persons in our society today live in real 1See K. Jaspers, Man in the Modern Age, Doubleday, 1957; Marcel, Man against Mass Society, Gateway, Chicago, 1962. solitude, and this throughout their entire lives. This is due at least in part to the sociological uprootedness in which they are almost forced to live. Solitude is never more painful than in many of our larger cities where many complain that they can never be alone, and yet, in reality, are almost always alone, that is, without any real communication or communion of a spiritually and truly satisfying nature. There are others in our society who are psychically incapable of being alone, or of recollecting themselves, or of becoming aware of their true sitnation in the world. Life outside a crowd is for them untolerable, so untolerable that they feel a kind of a pressure or com-pulsion to do everything that everyone else is doing, especially those persons or those groups with whom they identify socially. Thus their frequentation of the same bars, or theaters, or dubs or discotheques and so forth. It is not that they really desire these things necessarily, but they simply must do them because of their need to be "with people" and their fear of being alone. Yet for all this frequentation and for all these encounters, there is little or no real profound and personally satisfying com-munication or communion, whether there be the com-munication or communion of man with man, or that of man with God3 Another reason for the problematic in community life today is the advent and current cult of the many insights into man given to us in and through the existential and personalist philosophies of our time. These teach us that there are three involvements that characterize the exist-ence of modern man who is bodily-spiritual. There is first of all the involvement of man in the world. Even man's knowledge of God comes from the world in which he is rooted by reason of his bodiliness. He cannot even be thought of in his total reality unless the world is also perceived or thought of together with him. In fact, even his redemption or salvation is connected with the world, because man is redeemed as a being-in-the-world, or a being involved in the world. In fact, it is through man that the whole of creation shares in the redemption and salvation. For sanctity or holiness which is the fulfillment of man involves not merely the offer of Christ but the response of man as well. Again there is man's involvement in community. He is quite aware that he is dialogical, that he is not simply a being-in-the-world, but a being-in-the-world-with-others, that he is a listener as well as a speaker. He does not stand alone in society; he stands always in relation to others in society. While he possesses his own personal and indi-vidual natnre, and this in a unique way, still he cannot =See Ignace Lepp, The Ways o] Friendship, Macmillan, N.Y., 1966, pp. l,gff. ÷ ÷ ommunity " Li~e VOLUME 29. 1970 ~. A~ Schteck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS develop his nature or his person alone; he can do this only in and through the human community, that is, through other human persons. He sees his environment and his becoming and development, as intimately linked up with presence, the presences and influences of other persons, or with the interactivity of many interpersonal relationships. If man has selfhood, he is given this so that he may encounter other human persons who by their presences and interactivity will contribute to his whole-ness and personal fulfillment. No man is an island; and if his personal talents and capabilities are to unfold, if he is to become himself, completely this person which at first he is only potentially, if he is to become uniquely and personally creative, then the unique powers and gifts he has must be awakened .and stimulated to growth through the presence and interaction of others. And thirdly, there is man's involvement in history. There is not one moment of his life when man can be said to possess his own existence fully. What he is now, he became as a result of his past, and it is what he is now --including this past--that leads him on toward the fu-ture, a future to which he is even now already reaching out. Thus, every human life bears the stamp of outside forces, even though it is also internally being shaped by God and by the individual himself. Man's being and person are being shaped not bnly by the apparently autonomous forces of God and himself but also by the coexistential forces of his living moment, those of the hu-man community in which the forces of history are accu-mulated. While man's decisions are free, they' are not made in any kind of vacuum. They have their roots in the soil of human society and its history. And this means both the past and the future as well as the present, since the past and the future enter into our here and now de-cisions to a great extent, greater than many of us imagine. Man lives historically or in history, and he is involved very much in the ebb and flow of history. In short we find many currents impacting on man and his situation in the world today, currents that almost force themselves on us in spite of ourselves. There is the emphasis on personalism, the search for personal fulfill-ment or happiness, the need for independent and respon-sible action, the insistence on the primacy of the person over the society--at least when this is considered in its form of institution or organization--which is considered as being at the service of the person. There is the em-phasis on fellowship, on the sacramentality of our brother, on brotherhood in the sense of togetherness, collabora-tion, teamwork, complementarity, mutual enrichment, or completion, through interpersonal relationships and ac-tivity. There is the preoccupation of modern man with the "world" and the need for religious who are trying to be fully human and Christian to enter as completely as possible into all that is human and can be consecrated to God. The world is our world and we hold a serious responsibility in reference to what it is going to become, and we hold this in communion and cooperation with each other. Therefore, we must be involved in the world and in the human community--in order to become per-sons ourselves and in order to help shape the destiny of man in history, in order to help others become persons themselves.3 Still another source of the problematic regarding com-munity life in religion is the manifold way in which the expression "community" is understood by different per-sons today. As we find in so many other areas of human relationships, our problem often becomes a linguistic problem--we use the same word and yet we do not mean the same thing. The theologian or canonist will mean one thing by the word "community" whereas the sociologist or the psychologist might mean something quite distinct; and possibly the cultural anthropologist might mean something different from all these. And then again, dif-ferent theologians or different canonists, or different so-ciologists or different p?ychologists or different cultural anthropologists might mean different things by the same word. What the theologian refers to when he uses the word "community" within the sphere of his science is a group or corporate entity that we know and regard in and by and through the light of faith, or a community or group that is established and built on a faith vision of one kind or another. What the canonist will mean by the word "community" is a group of persons that lives together following certain norms or laws established by the com-petent authority empowered to establish those rules and regulations. Yet a psychologist or a sociologist would be speaking of something entirely other, of a group of per-sons or an association of persons viewed according to the norms and principles of the behavioral science which they represent. For a good number of psychologists, the word "commu-nity" would refer to a group of persons whose quality and depth of interpersonal relationships would establish them in some kind of communion of unity, personal unity or unity and communion of persons. Thus, they would stress the sacredness of the person, his need to be ful-filled within an expansive and free community. They would stress that persons are ends in themselves, im-portant for who they are as well as and even more so 8See Otto Semmelroth, S.J., The Church and Christian Belie], Deus Books, Paulist Press, N.Y., 1966, pp. 81-3. + + + Community Life VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ RENEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~536 than for what they do. They would stress that a diversity of works and personal talents is a good thing in a group, precisely because this variety evokes the actualization of the full range of the human potential which exists within the group and because it also creates the possibility for adaptive changes within the group enriching its total view and being and action. They would also stress the fact that the insights of the person-members serve the community, that personhood is a process, a reality that is not achieved simply in virtue of existing together, but rather by personal exchanges, the kind that imply ac-ceptance of change within the persons "and also a realistic knowledge and acknowledgment of human fallibility. They would emphasize that self-revelation and accept-ance of others, far from working to the destruction of the unity of the group, enhance both the person and the group or community as well. In fact it is these very things that provide the basis for continuing growth in under-standing and love on the part of the various members of the group. The sociologist would be concerned with community within the framework of group formation and operation. He might tend to emphasize the professional and the adult relationships of the members and tend to look at the group in terms of its ability to carry out goals and ob-jectives with some kind of e~ciency. Or he would tend to emphasize or look at a community as a social group phenomenon which identified or did not identify with this or that value system. For example, among the many distinctions which sociologists have made to clarify the social reality of "community" was the introduction of the notions of "gemeinschaft" and "gesellschaft." The first term refers to a community in the sense of a communal collectivity based on diffuse emotional attachments exist-ing between the members. The second term refers to a communal collectivity that rests primarily on the con-scious choice of specific objectives on the part of the membership. This division might approximate what we often call a division of community into a community as home, and a community as service organization. The sociologist is often far more interested in the second kind of "community" than in the first, that is, in the associational community or "gesellschaft" than in the emotional community or "gemeinschaft." Affective rela-tionships are and will indeed remain important to the sociologist, but he does not see them as constituting the totality of human existence, that if they did, they would soon lead a community to becoming dysfunctional or non-functioning, reduced to a kind of love-in experience or amateur group therapy unit rather than an adult associa-tional group having specific objectives. He would see that in some circumstances the affective relationslfips and the constant search for these on the part of a group would simply tend to desu'oy effective performance on the part of the group and to render their associational objectives impossible or difficult to achieve. He would stress that there should be organic solidarity in the membership of the group, and this such that there would be more than mere juxtaposition, but rather an interdependent divi-sion of labor, the key to which would be not that diversity in which each part goes its own way, but that kind of diversity in which each part is deeply concerned with meaningful exchange and for the good of each part, but for this good in reference to the good of the whole. The sociologist is very much concerned with preserving the sovereign demands of the common good together with the dignity of the person. To employ a rather practical example: A sociologist would see that in the case of liturgical experimentation by different groups, this should be concerned with the functional or service con-tributions which this group is making to the larger whole, and not with its own personal wishes or the indi-vidual affective relationships which exist ~znong the cele-brating group. He could easily accept the principle of a pluralistic liturgy based on the notion of vocation or profession, in which each societal role and its contribu-tion to the life of the totality would permit diversity and " yet stress organic solidarity, for example, a Mass for pro-fessionals, for factory workers, and so forth. But he would also tend to consider that it is a fruitless task on the part of liturgists in their attempt to achieve togetherness in the liturgy to try to define their problem in terms of supernatural charity becoming translated into human emotion. A person need not feel affection for another in order to have charity toward this other person, nor need charity always express itself in a social relationship which is defined as affective. Christian love may impel a man to lend a helping hand to another, but this is quite an-other phenomenon than that of holding hands for the sake of holding hands. Though the temptation to unite these two forms or expressions is very great by reason of an appealing and yet rather false idealism, liturgical forms must respect the fact that this equation is fre-quently impossible. The good Samaritan did not form an I-Thou relationship with the man who fell in with thieves, at least if we accept this according to the terms of some psychologists. He bandaged his wounds, put him on his pack-animal, took him to an inn and gave the inn-keeper money to cover the expenses, and went on his way.4 'See R. Potvin, "The Liturgical Community: Sociological Ap-praisal," in Experiments in Community, Liturgical Conference, ÷ 4- Community Li]e VOLUI~IE 2% 1970 4. To further complicate the linguistic problem or the problem of and in communication, the word "apostolic" has also undergone an evolution in meaning. In the New Testament it involved two elements: (1) a kind of juridi-cal element, that is, a commissioning by Christ for some form of leadership in the Church; and (2) a kind of charismatic element, that is, a vision or experience of the risen Lord. The word "apostle" and its corresponding adjective were more or less limited or concentrated on a certain well-defined group of persons in the first genera-tion of Christian history. Gradually, however, the word took on other meanings. It referred to what could be traced back to the Apostles, for example, their writings, their doctrines, their traditions, and so forth. It was later on extended to refer to the Roman See, the Roman Pon-tiff, and finally to the Roman Catholic Church described as the "apostolic Church." Later on in the Middle Ages the word "apostolic" was used to describe a life or life style that was conformable with that instituted by the Apostles of the primitive Church. Thus the monks were Wash. D.C., 1968, pp. 90-3. "Many people use the word community to imply a group welded together by affective bonds, a love-in whereby emotional attachments are generated and maintained. Christian community and the cultic symbols which surround the eucharistic feast should not be reduced to a notion of community with affective overtones . It is unfortunate that the word com-munity and family should be abused as much as they are. The problem is not simply one of definition since the meaning of the words can and does differ in various contexts. The confusion re-sides in the arbitrary conjunction of the elements of one meaning with those of another, and in not realising that they are often mutually exclusive. The end result is frequently little else than stagnant unrealism which precludes the understanding of the social and spiritual realities which are being discussed. Thus the totality of the community of God's people is not a community in the strict sense of the word. Its unity is not the unity of affective homogeneity. It is not emotional attachment nor that of primary, deep, total relationships between people. It is not the unity which arises from the sharing of common territory--all contemporary definitions of community. These exist within the community of the faithful, but they are not that community, nor can their characteristics be at-tributed to it as such. In fact we are in the secular city of God and we have moved from a tribal unity with its kin-like bonds to the unity of the technopolis. As Harvey Cox suggests, there is another alternative to Buber's dichotomy between an I-It relationship and the I-Thou encounter. It is the I-You relationship which is at the base of the secular city. The unity which is characteristic of the contemporary world is a functional unity of diversity whereby people are of service to each other, and one which can be devoid of affecfive connotations, which at times must be devoid of such personal overtones if the common welfare and the 'interests of our fellow men' are to be achieved. Sociologists would say that such unity is based primarily on associational and not communal rela-tionships. In other words, it is not necessary that the baker know personally and like the plumber for the two to be of service to each other. It is even conceivable that if they did their mutnal service might be less efficient." thought to be living an apostolic life by reason of their practice of the common life and preaching. And they were said to be living in conformity with the first community in Jerusalem. While it is true that these elements--com-mon life and the ministry of preaching--were found in diverse ways in different groups, so long as these two ele-ments were in some way present, the group was said to be living the apostolic life. In the sixteenth century the word was again slightly modified. It began to refer to those persons or groups of persons who were sent by the Church to preach the gospel and to live or practice the virtues which the fulfillment of mission entailed. It was not so much a question of their imitating the life of the Apostles, but rather of participat-ing or sharing in their mission. Even semi-cloistered nuns spoke of themselves as having the "apostolic" spirit, cause they participated in the spirit of the apostolic mis-sion, namely, the redemption of mankind. Finally, the word "apostolic" received another altera-tion in recent times. With the advent of Catholic Action, the laity was said to have an "apostolic vocation." It would seem to be this use of the word "apostolic" that brought into being its highly "quantitative" aspect. Some persons were said to be more apostolic than others. Some works were said to be more apostolic than others. And finally some groups and' even religious institutes were said to be more or less apostolic than others depending upon the degree to which they engaged in external works. Under Plus XII an attempt was made to correct some of the inadequate implications of such a use of the word. He spoke of completely enclosed communities as leading a life that was essentially and wholly "apostolic." Thus the word "apostolic" would seem to admit of several essential elements, one ontological--a life that is con-nected with the inner life of the Church, with the life of agape or charity; and the other phenomenological--the various concrete ways or expressions in which the life of agape or charity can be expressed and mediated both in being and operation by persons, or groups, or even re-ligious communities. While we should be able to distin-guish one or other element in the word "apostolic," it would seem to be the wiser thing not to dissociate them from one anothbr, or dichotomize them in our practical attitudes. This could easily give rise to a triumphalism of one kind or another, contemplative or active, and both of these could simply establish more snob clubs in a Church where we already have enough. This linguistic problem or problem in communica-tion is not limited to the area of community. We find it existing in many other areas today. In regard to the area of family planning, for example, during the years in 4- 4- 4. Community lilt VO~UM~ ~, ;~o C. d. $chleck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~40 which the papal commission met, it was quite obvious that there were problems, and serious ones, involving the use of language and words and expressions. Words used were the same, but the ~neanings and emphases, the cate-gories and selective placement of values connected with these words, were extremely diverse.5 This linguistic problem is a real problem. And it would seem to me that because we do not spell out the exact and rather well-defined limited idea or meaning which we have in using the word "community" we come to the rather quick and open conflict concerning the idea of "community" which we experience today. An approach, for example, that would be primarily sociological would easily emphasize an aspect of community or group asso-ciation that is the object of the science of sociology, and it would tend to emphasize the tools and instruments which this behavioral science normally employs. The same would be true if a psychologist Were to approach the same problem. Yet the theological dimensions of community, and the theological presuppositions of com-munity life within a religiously motivated group of per-sons, or a group which faces community with the back-ground of a faith vision, for example, sin-redemption, the ambiguity of man in the world, the manifold dimen-sions of the evangelical counsels, and so forth, might be ignored, even perhaps purposely or intentionally; and this, not because of any hostility toward these dimensions on the part of the experts involved, but simply because these dimensions might not be the specific area of con-cern or competence of a psychologist or sociologist. Yet the practical impact of this presentation could bring about a rather different net result than would be proper or correct; it might bring about a primacy of an entirely different value system as far as "community life in a re-ligiously motivated and assembled group" than should really be the case. The fault would not lie with the sciences or the experts in question, if and when they operate within the limited and specific sphere of their competence, but in the imperialistic attempt on the part of any one of them to make itself or himself supreme where and when it or he is not supreme. The same thing would be true in the case of the Scripture scholar or theologian if they attempted to pronounce on some topic or point which was a point of these sciences and not neces-sarily that of revelation. Thus, there are many complexities within the total understanding of "community life in religion," many of which are perhaps approached much too facilely and ~ See Donald N. Barrett, "The Sociology of Religion: Science and Action" in Sociological Analysis, Winter, 1967, pp. 177-8. without much depth of insight as to the real subtleties of the problem. There are theological or revealed dimen-sions of the idea of "community" which would show that the call to community is not really something special in the sense of unique to religious, such that only they are called to express this reality. All Christians are called to express it, even though not all are called to express it within the framework of associations such as religious are called to be. Moreover, this Christian approach or re-vealed approach to community would show that the Christian ethic gives to already existing human relation-ships new dimensions and exigencies by transforming them through a new specifically Christian basis: the life of the Pneuma of Christ. Secondly, there are other dimensions besides the re-vealed one. There are the behavioral dimensions men-tioned above, sociological, psychological, cultural, and so forth. And finally, there are juridical dimensions in-volved in the notion of "community," that is, certain legal requirements or dimensions established by the agency which gives a group its status, public or civil or ecclesial. In the case of religious communities of public vows, we are told that they are by definition stable forms of life, or stable life styles providing their membership with an organized way of living the evangelical counsels. And thus it is quite reasonable to expect that there would be in their case juridical dimensions to establish and as-sure this stability. This note is referred to in the Per[ectae caritatis and in the sixth chapter of Lumen gentium as well as in Ecclesiae sanctae. By reason of the religious community's being a public and official organ of the Church-sacrament, the hierarchical element of the Church gives it something of the incarnational structure and composition which the Church itself was given by Christ. It is for this reason that the hierarchical element of the Church approves not merely the soul or the spirit dimen-sion of a religious community's life style, but also the fundamental delineations of its body expression or its bodiliness--this for reasons of distinction, and comple-mentarity, organic solidarity, and related identity. The reasonableness of this juridical dimension for publicly approved religious institutes or communities does not mean that the counsels or a life dedicated to Christian service cannot be lived outside such a framework, or within a community or association of persons having no official or public approbation. Such groups have always existed in the Church historically, either by choice of the persons themselves who did not want any such approba-tion for one or other reason; or by choice of the approv-ing agency or arm, estimating that such a group or groups 4. 4, 4- Community Lite VOLUME Zg, 1970 541 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS do not have that degree of stability which they feel war-rants public approbation, at least for the time being.B These are only some of the factors involved in the problem of community and in the problem of man in community, of man looked at in the totality of his personality and condition. It is a problem that will never see any completion or perfectly satisfactory solution. But it would seem to the present writer that many of the problems or at least some of them which religious com-munities are facing today in their desire for renewal could better be resolved by a more clear-cut understand-ing of just what the problem is, or better, just where the sources of problematic lie. Then there must be a re-assertion of certain ideas, especially those of a theological nature, which are involved in the establishment of a community that gathers its members together for religious motives or purposes, those revealed within the Scriptures. In the expression "religious community" the adjective "religious" is just as important as the adjective "rational" in the expression "rational animal." And while it is true that this adjective does not describe all the dimensions and complexities involved in those associations of persons which we call religious institutes or communities, it does point to that dimension which distinguishes these kinds of associations from other kinds not based primarily on religious motives; Consequently, in the remainder of o This does not mean that one may not question the advisability of certain decisions regarding disciplinary and other such matters, for example, the current questioning regarding the legally im-posed uniform pattern for all apostolic institutes. Seeking a greater flexibility in the new legislation for the application of the particu-lar charisms of each institute is one thing; operating as if this were already an accomplished fact, without asking the permission to ex-periment contrary to the Code where this is requested by the compe-tent authority, and thereby facing authority with a fair accompli is quite another. If modern man claims to be so mature, it would seem that the presence of courtesy should be more present today than before. At times one wonders whether this is true. ~ In one of his weekly addresses the pope referred to one of the problems of our times as the phenomenon of anthropocentric reli-gion: "Religion must be by its very nature theocentric, oriented toward God as its first beginning and its final end. And after that toward man, considered, sought after, loved in terms of his divine derivation and of the relationships and duties which spring from such a derivation . To give in religion preeminence of humani-tarian tendencies brings on the danger of transforming theology into sociology, and of forgetting the basic hierarchy of beings and values. I am the Lord your God, and Christ teaches: You shall love the Lord your God. This is the greatest and the first command-ment . It should not be forgotten that to let sociological interest prevail over the properly theological interest can generate another dangerous difficulty, that of adopting the Church's doctrine to hu-man criteria, thus putting off the intangible criteria of revelation and the official ecclesiastical magisterium" (Address of July 10, 1968, Documentary News Service, Oct. 28, 1968). this article I would like to consider some oI the following areas: the nature of community life in religion, its pur-poses, and its ability to be expressed in different ways. The Nature of Community Life in Religion The early Church looked upon its community life as the expression or actualization of the commandment of Jesus--"That they may be one as you Father in me and I in you, that they may be (one) in us." s The very nature of community life in religion demands not just a juxta-position or lining up of persons; nor does it refer merely to a group that has come together for professional serv-ices of teaching or health care or social work of one kind or another. Nor does it refer to a group of merely naturally compatible personalities, or to persons who are forced to live together by reason of some kind of juridical or legal system of incorporation. It implies, rather, a community that has for its model and image the mystery of the Most Blessed Trinity. There we find per-fect oneness and perfect relationship, and yet also, perfect distinction--all of which are essential to constitute their mystery and meaning. The theological notion of community life is aimed at far more than the establishment of a herd mentality, or a common status in reference to material goods, "or to a rule or to certain visible interpersonal relationships estab-lished on certain natural grounds, even though these are in no wise to be excluded. It implies far more than mere interest groups living together, such as teachers or nurses or social workers, even though any one or several of these aspects might be found in community living, at least to some extent. Community life in religion demands that the members of the community live with each other in religion as the Father lives in community of life with His Son and with the Holy Spirit. It asks that the mem-bets of the group show clearly that the charactoe or~sucally Christian commandment of fraternal ~hariotry agape which is the end of the New Law reflects" or corresponds with the characteristic dogma of our Cl~ristian faith, the mystery of the Most Blessed Trinity. For a religious com-munity is one that is constituted or created by agape, in agape, and for agape. And agape is God's love shared in or participated in by men, and becoming operative in reference to other men. Agape is intimacy with God and with other men as God would love them Himself. It sur-passes purely natural sympathies, and dominating or in-stinctive antipathies, making us see other men as sons of God, sharing the divine good with ns and called to share in the society of the elect with ourselves. Agape makes us "Jn 17:20-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Lile VOLUME 2% 54~ ÷ + + C. A. $chleck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS regard the next person not as a stranger but as our brother, as part of ourselves, as one who is united to us by divine life and whose good we desire as we do our own, good. The Purposes o[ Community Life in Religion Coming to the purposes of community life in religion and viewing them within the framework of revelation, we find that there are a number of objectives which it tries to realize. Not all of these are equal, nor are they all found in exactly the same way .in different religious institutes. Briefly they would seem to be reducible to the. following: liberating or ascetical, charismatic, and apos-tolic. The Liberating or Ascetical Dimension The liberating dimension of community life in religion is quite evident even after only a short experience of living with others. We are quite aware that even in spite of ourselves, it does strip us of much disordered self-love which is at the root of all sin. It provides us and almost forces us to practice the various expressions of real agape, real faith, and real hope in its daily human expressions: Love is patient, love is kind, love is eager but never boast-ful or conceited; love takes no pleasure in other people's sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to ex-cuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.9 The common life, in all its demands, acts as a marvelous means for self-giving and opening oneself more and more to and onto others. For most religious it is in practice the most constant occasion they have for personality build-ing, for self-denial, and self- and social-integration that lies at their disposal within the religious life. And this is true not merely in its domestic aspects, that is, in sharing work in the house, or recreation, of life within the frame-work of the religious residence, and common prayer in its various forms, but also in its service aspect, that is, in the common enterprise of the group.10 Community life in religion asks for collaboration with others in an operational community, such as a school or hospital or possibly a more loosely structured apostolate, such as social work. It usually involves a community in which the members have to fit together for a common work. This often means doing some things that one does not always like doing. It also involves that one be pre-pared to face the likelihood that often there may not be the exact kinds of diversions, distractions, ~'elaxations, and so forth that one would especially like. There are ~ I Cor 14:4ff. 1°See J. Coventry, S.J., in Religious Formation, Blackfriars, 1963, "Modern Individualism and Comxnunity Life," p. 37. reasons for this, other values which the community is at-tempting to give witness to: for example, eschatological values, Christological values, ascetical values, ecclesial values, those which are in keeping with the community's total mission within the Church. This ascetical or liberating aspect of community life forms part of the community's witness to the death-resur-rection mystery of the Lord. It witnesses to the fact that persons of different backgrounds, training, intellectual and social capabilities, can still live in Unity and commu-nion, in fact are called to li#e in unity and communion, and this in Christ and through Him, not primarily be-cause of mutual compatibility, but because they are called by the same agape and molded by the same agape. Con-sequently, religious are not entirely free---eVen though they freely accept this limitation of their freedom with the frustrations that this is inevitably going to mean--to reshape or arbitrarily modify their situations, seeking out the most congenial possible local community or select circle of collaborators. Such an approach to community life in religion is like matching blood types and would be just about as evangelical and gospel-motivated. Now in saying this I do not wish to give the impression that some of the attempts being made to establish smaller living groups is opposed to the gospel. It can be a good thing, especially when the motives are very much in keep-ing with the gospel values, a better image of poverty, a better spirit of personal and communal prayer, in short, if the motives are primarily for the establishment of a better religious atmosphere, and this not merely as a kind of an unfounded dream, but as a realistic probabil-ity. Moreover, such a group could provide for a better. sense of belonging. But here we must question the forma-tion of small fraternities among religious which are based primarily and almost exclusively on other values, socio-logical and psychological. The writer would still wager an educated guess that ev

Issue 29.2 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; 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 editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to -Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley;,Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis. Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and cop':'rlgi~t ~) 1970 by R~-:w~-:\v at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S,A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing ot~ces. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should b~ accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RI~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to p~rsons Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where a¢com. panied by a remittance, should be sent to R£VlI~W ~on Rtt.tetous; P, O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203, Changes of address, busine~ correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to R£vl~w R~I~o~s ; 42B East Preslon ~treet; Balfimo~, Mawland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and ~oks for review should be sen~ ~o R~v~w roa R~mvs; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ulevard Saint ~ouis, Mi~ouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address the ~u~fioas and ~we~ ~itor. MARCH 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 2 Meditative Description of the Gospel Counsels Introductory Statement" Framed* in words and concepts Iamiliar to the last third o[ the twentieth century, this meditative descrip-tion oI the vows accents the pgetic nature of religious li[e: the "more than" dimension to a faith-existence; the contemplative, "'being" aspect oI religious consecration; the "useless" character o] anything which is an art, any-thing which is beautiIul. RELIGIOUS VOWS We share the richness of the lived experience of vowed commitment, as an institute and as individual members. Because of the radical and rapid changes occurring in society, we are called upon to re-think and re-articulate the meaning and purpose of religious consecration in today's world. It is a fact that we are now living our promises differently; therefore, there is a present need to speak of them differently. Today, more than ever, we need a positive explana-tion of the vows. Renunciation and detachment will always he valid and essential elements of this radical, total commitment. However, we must presently seek greater understanding of the YES aspect--the CHOICE OF LIFE. A spotlight on religious communities should reveal real people who live fully, love deeply, give totally, and enjoy life immensely. The three vows of consecrated celibacy, poverty, and obedience manifest the centrality of commitment to Christ in community. All three vows are facets of this ¯ This-meditative essay on the counsels was written at the request of the special general chapter of the Sisters of Mercy of the Union in the United States. Four sisters o~ the Union cooperated in writing the essay: Sister M. Catherine Daly, R.S.M.; Sister Patricia Smith, R.S.M.; Sister Marjorie Bosse, R.S.M.; and Sister M. Evangeline McSloy, R.S.M. The essay is printed in the R~v~w through the kindness of the superior general o[ the Union, Sister Mary Regina Cunningham, R.S.M.; Sisters of Mercy Generalate; I0000 Kentsdale Drive; P.O. Box 34446, Bethesda Post Office; Washington, D.C. 20034. + + ÷ The Counsels VOLUME 2~ 1970 193 The Coimsei~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 194: same reality. They are means to unity---community-- with God and with one another. Our vows can open us to all reality and, at the same time, help us to transcend, to .go beyond persons--to Person. CONSECRATED CELIBACY Chri~to~entric in inspiration and in direction, con-secrated celibacy, like all Christian values, has many dimensions. It is community-oriented, gift, faith-grounded, directed to the work of Christ, sign of what creation is and is called to be. In today's function-cen-tered, production-conscious society, the "waste" of celibate living signs to the absolute worth of the human person, to the being (as distinct from the doing) of man. Practica~ly and theologically, the celibate should be the universal pilgrim--moving on, challenging, opening up .narrowness, questioning preconceptions and vested interests. The religious, supported in her celibate com-mitment through community, signs beyond herself to the possibility of community. CONSECRATED CELIBACY is a free gift, a charism to be like Jesus Christ-- motivated by love [rom and for God to give undivided attention to the things of the Lord (I Cor 7:35) and to share in realizing God's kingdom. The celibate woman is sustained in faith because of God's promise to be ever faithful (Jr 31:33, 1 Pt 2:10; and so forth), experienced and nurtured in the dying-rising of the Paschal nlystery, trusting that there is a "more than" dimension to human life, to all reality. In her being and doing, the celibate stands as a sign of , God's love and active presence. By her being, she signs a~ a pledge, promise of harvest, hope (Key 14:4-5) to the proclamation of God's primacy in creation, to the reign of God as absolute, creative, fulfilling in her life, to the "already but not yet" tension between Christ'S first and final cosmic victory, to God's power in human weakness. Her consecration of her entire person to God, over and above any functional value she may offer, signs to the absolute worth of the human person in a tech-nological, bureaucratic world as a challenge to the priorities of that world. By her doing, she moves as pilgrim dynamically resdess, challenging preconceptions of ~'normality," the defini-tion of what it is to be human, and what it is to love humanly-- stepping in faith beyond the immediate to the uni-versal, signing to the personal, non-exclusive, non-possessive, and growth-giving love of God ¯ Bound to no one small circle, as Gospel woman ~he lives the Good News of Jesus Christ calling the whole human race, challenging any idol-atry of a particular nation, culture, religion, and so forth, free (and freeing others) for servi~ce, availability, heal-ing. Her use of her body signs that woman's sexuality is to be dedicated to many things; that to be woman is to be sensitive, kind, to speak truth, to share an interpersonal love . The celibate religious woman lives in a community built not on blood ties, ~ ~ but on a mutual drawing of person to person, and persons to Person, on ties of shared faith in divine power (Lk 1:49), shared vision of all that creation, under the Lordship of Christ, can be, shared support in her commitment to celibate lovingm witnessing to the possibilit~ of unity in a cosmos where men are searching to be one. VOWED POVERTY Christian history from its earliest beginning to the present day holds poverty to be a necessary part of the ~u'isdan life. It is a living out of the Gospel message: a genuine pilgrim people, humble and serving. Today more than ever before, however, poverty needs to be un-derstood in this true Christocentered approach. The "poor of Yahweh" must be grasped before visible ways of witnessing to poverty will be found. No longer can legislative interpretations be the guide to sharing in the poverty of Christ. P, eligious are living poverty differ-ently today and need to give expression to it in a whole new style of life---in a whole new manner of being; and of giving and sharing. The following statement is a simple meditative ap-proach to poverty which may hopefully stimulate a con-temporary thrust toward a creative reality of poverty in the lives of religious women vowed to poverty. The Counsels REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 196 POVERTY is a dynamic human attitude toward life uniquely personal in expression seeking less to have than to be, and, in being to give expressing, personally and communally, a deep rever-ence for persons and things. Living in the manner of Jesus Christ, one vowed to. poverty accepts her total condition empties herself (Ph 2:1-I 1) seeks out the neighbors in need, using her gifts to serve them works in the same condition as people work today-- for a living. The woman truly poor, strives through her promise to trust fully in God as provider of all, even of life itself (Mr 6:25-34) to live without the assurance of tomorrow, in the glad-ness of today to accept humbly whatever God calls her to, to free herself of all unfreedoms, that she may share her person to offer all: voice to speak hands to touch~ heart to love openhandedly, to God's people through community In community, one vowed to poverty shares in the work of Christ: building the kingdom in an effort to affect more just distribution of wealth in personal responsibility for being collectively poor in the fruits of ordered minimalness: peace, joy in the present; hope, faith for the future In community of mercy, those vowed stand together corporately committed to simplicity of life possessing only to serve as a public sign before the world of Christ's all-sharing love stewards of the Master's goods held in trust-- feeding thepoor healing the sick teaching the uneducated visiting the needy, and so forth-- conscious that all things are theirs, that they are Christ's that Christ is God's (1 Cor 3:23) RELIGIOUS OBEDIENCE This description of obedience attempts to penetrate the meaning of an attitude much praised in Scripture: attentiveness to" God and readiness to do His will. Such an attitude is characteristic of the person who seeks out the ultimate meanings o[ things and goes beyond limita-tions: the person who lives by faith. This kind of person seems quite welcome in our contemporary world, par-adoxical though this might seem, agonized as this world might be over its own failures to promote human life, despite its marvelous successes in science and technol-ogy., athirst as it might be for those ultimates, those "beyonds" that give real meaning to life. OBEDIENCE is the power to seek out, to listen, and to hear the will of God. and the responsiveness, the readihess, to do it. Christians seek God's will in the leading of the Spirit speaking in the Christian community (Jn 1:29-51) Christ promised that the Father would send. "the Paradete, the Spirit of truth" (Jn 16:7-15) And they try to live as He did, whose very food was "to do the will of the Father" (Jn 4:80-8; 6) Religious vow to look for the Spirit,s promptings, and to do God's will with that community in which they have given them-selves, sure in faith that God will reveal His will among them, through the initiative and submission of all of them. through their personal struggles and mutual efforts to keep open to the truth in each one, accepting, appreciating, rejoicing in the different gifts among them, sure in faith, that He will make His will known ac-cording to role and need. Religious in positions of authority try to discern God's will by actively using all channels. It is a new insight on an old truth that the one governing is most in need. of the power to Obey. to listen., to hear. The call to leadership is a call to unify. Religious today realize anew, as did God's people in the Old Testament, that the Spirit speaks to the whole humart family through other signs, the "signs of the times": conditions, like afttuence and poverty, awareness of human dignity, racial tensions; events, like flights to the moon, assassinations and crime, team-work, celebrations, protests and dis-discoveries; people, like Eichmann and Ghandi, John Kennedy + + ÷ The Counsels VOLUME 2% 1970 and Martin Luther King, Jr., Dag'Hammarskjold, Dorothy Day, Jolm the XXlII, Darwin, Einstein, and Marx. PARADOXICALLY, The person who is growing in genuine obedience ~ 'becomes more and more humanly free (He who loses His life shall find it, Mt 10:39) Such a person becomes more and more attuned to the transcendent, alive to community, available for service, responding always anew ("God, here I aml I am coming to obey your will,'" Hb 10:7) + ÷ + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS GENERAL CONCLUSION The basic affirmation of Christian life: that God is our end, that all else is means, lies at the core of our under-standing of the vows. Ways of channeling our baptismal commitment, they proclaim publicly a choice of avail-ability, service. They point toward possibilities---of hu-man commitment, enduring fidelity, growth in process, becoming. They speak of and call us to live---a mystery. RELIGIOUS VOWS are means, signs of a personal choice: a commitment in faith to the God who is both among and beyond His people; a life orientation toward possibilities fo~ human actualization and for apostolic service; a radical attempt to incarnate the gospel message by living like Jesus Christ. Framed in terms of covenant, the vows intensify the God-man covenant made at baptism; acknowledge God's greatest gift--that He first loved us in Jesus Christ; express a human response to that gift; include the covenant relationship between God and the person, the person and her community. Public in nature, ecclesial in character, religious vows boldly proclaim as a "splendid and striking witness": a stance of constant presence before God, constant openness to the Holy in human life; an attitude of constant striving for more total avail-ability to God and to His people; gratitude for the mercy continually received from God through His people; communal commitment to the kingdom and to its com-ing. In a cosmos and among men viewed in terms of "proc-ess," religious vows attempt to express certain hu-man possibilities: of total self-giving, both in being and be~:oming; of fidelity amid change; of commitment not sterilely binding but creative; of growing in oneness in a fragmented so(Jety; of living mystery, in and through the Spirit, in a prob-lem- solving world. VOLUME 2% 1970 199, SISTER MARY FINN "Live--Do Not Be Overtaken by Death" ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Finn of the Home Visi-tors of Mary lives at 356 Arden Park; Detroit, Michigan 48202. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I spend my evenings in an abandoned store a few blocks from our home in Detroit. The store is in the black community and is opened as a center for teenage boys. Last Spring we placed in the window a large pic-ture of the Black Christ. Invariabl~ every young man who stops and stands before the picture and looks--even for an instant--straightens up, puts his shoulders back, and stands tall. What loftiness is stirred whenever a man is faced and inspired and called beyond himself by an-otherl Great spirit and dignity and grace rise up when-ever a man stands before life. In looking up to this beau-tiful Black Christ young men are meeting the One who says: "I come that you may have life--more abun-dantly." A word today for someone who has life is "soul." When a black teenage dropout exclaims "Jesus has soul, man," he means very reverently what the Gospel means when Matthew says: "Jesus was led by the Spirit," or "Jesus is the way, the truth, the life," or "Jesus came that we might find life." Is there anything the ghetto searches for more than life? Anything the affluent, the student, the addict is more desperate for--than life? Our entire culture is hungry for life. Death prevails and abounds all around. We are men and women enclosed in a machine-centered world; encapsulated by professionalism and technology and humanitarianism; asphyxiated by accumulation of things and manipulation for power and craving for pleasure. Where does a man turn for life? What are the alternatives? Who are the sources of life in a technolog-ical culture? Religious are a people consecrated--really consecrated --to life in the midst of death. If ever our American culture needed religious people and institutions it is now --to show the individuals and institutions of our society that there really is an alternative to death., specifi-cally death.by-power, and death-by-wealth, and death- .by-pleasure. The alternative to dea.th-by-wealth is my vowed life of poverty. The alternative to death-by-power is my vowed life of obedience. The alternative to death-by- pleasure is my vowed, life of celibacy. This is the glory of religious life--that in ~/day when man is seduced unto death there are men and women and institutions consecrated to life. The glory of religious life is to bring men and institutions to LIFE. There are people in the world with a profound sense of life and people in the world with a deprived sense of life---life lovers and death lovers; people who lift up and people who cast down. I am a strange mixture of both. There is the death lover in me and the life lover in me: Reality is almost always experienced in the form of people, things, events. The death lover in me is fasci-nated by what is lifeless. I am scared and frightened by the wonder and mystery of life; so to protect myself from living I have all sorts of ways of exploiting people. The death lover in me handles people, manipulates them, disposes of people mechanically. I crave my own suc-cess and safety and will suppress a person who threatens me.The "music teacher" in Death at an Early Age is so threatened by the life, the artistry of 6th graders that she finds multiple ways to protect herself from life--to the point of kindly:killing creativity in the chil-dren. She squeezes the life out of one child, then another, and another, and finally brings about their death and the institution's death--all for her own safety. Only when she feels successful and becomes "master" of the child and has the child "under her control"--only then can she "praise" him. She literally kills the child; she desecrates life, snuffs inner life right out of a youngster because she herself is so deathly afraid of life. The death lover can't possibly be celibate with people because death-centeredness is violent and irreverent with life and to be celibate means to revere life--to initiate, foster, sustain life in a wonderful varie, ty 0f ways. This is'how the death-lover in me relates to people. Toward things the death lover in me is possessive. I ollect,~,hoard, and secure every little creature I desire, I'm threatened by what .I'm unable to possess and up-tight and" upset when. my "things" are slightly out of order. The woman in the Old Testament, who falsely claims to be mother of the child, is typical of the pos-sessiveness of the death lover. She prefers a properly divided dead child than to allow, the true mother pos-session of her living child. The,death lover can't possibly be poor because poverty VOLUME 29, 1970 ,REVIEW FOR REL[G[OUS 20~ is freedom from domination by things and liberation from enslavement to things. The death lover in me is possessed and "run by dead things." Toward events the death lover in me is fearful and forceful. I am dominated by a compulsion to control and master; power-hungry. My supreme values are power and order and having the situation under control--so well under control there is no room for variety or growth or spontaneity. The death lover in me runs the world like a great big machine. The death lover can't possibly obey because obedience means to listen and be responsive and available to the voice of life all around me. There is also the life lover in me, and the life loving me has special attitudes toward reality. As life lover I have a profound reverence for life--for people, th!ngs, events. I experience people with great joy and have a sense and belief in their almost unbelievable and won-derful individuality. For the life lover, every person is a special presence to be encouraged and brought more and more deeply to life. The death lover in me makes the individuality and uniqueness of the other a target--to be picked at and shot down. There is a lot of the sniper in the death lover. The life lover has a profound rev-erence for the life and specialness and individuality of the other, and when the other appears as unique the life lover in me becomes even more alive by coming to the support of the other who is being born in a new way. I foster and nourish the individuality of the other to be-come even more herself--more unique and individual. The death lover in me is scared and frightened and threatened by the specialness of the other so I become insecure with my own individuality. The life lover in me admires and promotes the specialness of the other and is at home and responsible for both the extensions and limitations of my own individuality. The attitude of reverence for my own individuality and the specialness of the other person is beautifully ex-perienced and expressed and sustained by vowed celi-bacy. My celibacy is an alternative to death-by-pleasure; a fundamental reverence for people--my own self and the self of other people. To be truly celibate means to be touched by life, to be brought alive by the uniqueness of the other and to bring others alive by my own unique-ness. To be celibate means to be a lively individual. It means I pulsate with vitality and generate an abiding attitude of personal and interpersonal reverence. The celibate in me is the great lover of life--re-creating life all around by my own wholehearted presence to life. Celibacy has a great lifting power. ToXbe celibate means not only to be at home with my cwn individuality and the individuality of the other, but to be creative even in unveiling the individuality of myself and the other. It means providing the truest con-ditions for unfolding life and immediately and ulti-mately manifesting the Lord Jesus. To be celibate has a lot to do with privacy and with being alone. Celibacy means I am able to be alone and to bring Out the individuality of the other who is alone. I feel my aloneness from my friend much more deeply than my aloneness from people less near, but if I really mean it when I say I respect the individuality of the other than I am able to "leave the other alone"--not to tamper or handle or seduce the other. My sense of alone-ness is an awesome sense of life and vibrancy, but in it I have moments of feeling my tendency to "prove" or "test" the closeness of the other to me. As soon as I do this--as soon as I try and touch and overhandle the intimacy of the other or overexpose my own intimacy --then I violate and betray my celibacy, and life disinte-grates- like a bubble. Being celibate and intimate with the other is more like two open hands cradling sand than clutching sand in my closed fist. Christ went about touching people--but what a difference in His touch and mine. Christ never touched anyone for His own sake-- to prove or test anything for Himself. He touched people only for the sake of their growth and life--for the sake of the Lord God. My sense of aloneness is a supreme moment of celibacy because it places me in an awesome experience of being born and coming to life. My celibacy is both a separation from "death" and communion with new life. As a life lover I also have a rather special experience of things. A great and wonderful multitude of things appear in my daily life: the things of technology--water that refreshes, clothes that adorn, vehicles that trans-port, gadgets that facilitate, books that illuminate; and all the wonderful things of nature--the enduring of a mountain, calm of a sunset, strength of water, grace of a flower, splendor of a leaf, gentleness of a meadow, free-dom of a bird. When things become more and more ap-pealing and plentiful and available the death lover in me looks and grabs and clutches. With some things I be-come overinvolved, infatuated, indiscriminate, cluttered. With other things I am cold, passive, uncaring, reckless. The life lover in me has a profound reverence for things and relates to them as a source of life and inspiration and celebration. The attitude of reverence and gratitude and joy for the gift of things is beautifully expressed and sustained by vowed poverty. My poverty is an alternative to death-by-possessiveness. Fundamentally poverty is reverence for things. To be poor in spirit VOLUME 4. 4. 4. $ist~,~ Ma~ Finn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 is to be treed and serene and gra.ceful in the presence or absence of things. This experience of poverty redeems me from death, frees me trom domination by things, liberates me from enslavement to things. Poverty heals the break and rupture between myself and my posses-sions and restdres me and gives me a sense of wholeness and unity and harmony. The life lover in me has vision that penetrates and goes beyond the surface of things and enters into a communion with the inner meaning and life of things. Especially in a technological world this lively, delight-ful, restful relationship with things is not often found. It is fashionable to have and collect useful things, but not so fashionable to enter into the deepest meaning of things. To really commune with the heart of a. thing means I must take a kind of distance from its im-mediate usefulness. I can't rejoice when I look upon things too closely. Closeness in this sense suggests at-tachment and possessiveness. Possessiveness fills me with anxiety. Anxiety confines my spirit and ties me to the outer, superficial layer of the thing. When I stand back and am detached from the thing, then I become un-cluttered, unencumbered, and free to enter into the heart and mystery of the thing. It's when I come to the heart of the thing--to the center and the mystery of what the thing is--that I come to the moment of free and fruitful enjoyment. My poverty releases my spirit and my spirit breaks forth. I enter into and transform and bring to life whatever thing I touch. My poverty draws man toward great and abundant joy in things through detachment and reverence. Besides people and things reality is encountered in the form of events. The lover of life experiences events with a loose, playful, graceful spirit. We are confronted with all sorts of events---everyday. Events of nature: a storm, headache, double chin, expanding waisdine, gray hair. And we are confronted with the wonderful and fearful events of culture: change and growth and decay; and power and militancy and reactionary, traditional-ism; institutions and structures and systems. The death lover in me stands before events of change and growth, for example, with fear and suspicion--somewhat cold and calculating, overcautious and hesitant. When I move I move to control and enforce and restrain and master. For this I have need of power so I invoke "law and order." The death lover stands before events with a sense of fate and despondency. The life ldver is called to newer and greater and more profound life. by events of culture and nature. The profound reverence the life lover experiences for events is beautifully manifested by. vowed obedience and is a very precise alternative to death-by-power. Obedience means, fundamentally, .my reverence for events. Obedience means I am in communion with the deepest and most hidden and secret meaning of events-by listening. To obey means to quietly discover and listen to a secret. When I listen to reality I am born, raised up, and brought to life. Not drugs or inter-personal dynamics--but obedience--expands my con-sciousness, extends my horizons, uncovers my depths, brighten my vision, enables me to stand tall. When I listen to the mystery at the heart of a cultural or natural event I come into touch with myself at a new level, with the secret at the heart of the event itself, and ultimately and finally into touch and consciousness of the Lord Godmpresent and acting somewhere and somehow in the event. Each event then--when I am a lover of life--each event is a sacred event; a salvific event; redemptive. There is no event, no change or in-stitution or structure or sickness that is unholy. An event is not unholy. Unholiness is when I enter into an event in an unwhole or death centered manner. The obedient person is so much in love with life that she consecrates herself, vows to listen to the deepest voice of life all around her. She submits herself to the voice of reality in her culture and in nature in order to foster unity and reverence and serenity in the world. This listening experience of obedience is altogether different ~om the controlling experience. Listening is expecting.Controlling is handlingmtill there isn't any life left.' Neither of these attitudes toward reality comes in a pure form. In other words, the pure form of death lover or life lover is rare. The pure death .lover is insane. The pure life lover is a saint. Most of us average people are a blend. What matters is that I know and am aware and discerning of both movements within myself. Becauge of the profound need in our culture, and for the preservation and enrichment of the truest values of the society itself, and especially by the very real but simply unexplainable mystery of God calling me and touching my life in the way He does--I am one whose way is meant to be an alternative. I am consecrated to life in the midst of death, poverty in the midst of plenty, celibacy in the midst of pleasure, obedience in the midst of power. This is my call. It is a profoundly personal experience of the living God forever calling me to abundant life, forever faithful to me. I cannot ex-plain my call to another. I am able to describe some moments of it--but never explain it. It is mystery. I can only live it. The deepest moments of life are always born and unfold in mystery. But forever, somewhere in VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ RL~VIE'~ FOR RELIGIOUS 2O6 my heart, I know well I am called by One who is faith-ful. His call to me is enduring. I experience His fidcli:.y as well and as really as my own infidelity. I may repress my call, cover it up, run from it, hide--but forever it is my experience to be called to center my life prhnarily and consistently around the living God. In fai,h and quiet readiness and humble awareness I am able to do this. In a predominantly technological and function cen-tered culture my religious life, then, individually and institutionally, is a radical departure from the system and the establishment and superficial values and struc-tures. "Radical" means "deep within" not "way out." Religious life is truly radical. By centering life (in this machine and man centered world) primarily and con-sistently around the Lord I take a radical stand toward reality. A function centered culture has its special at-titude toward reality. It prizes and gives priority to pos-sessing things, pleasing people, controlling events. To live in the midst of things with an attitude of poverty, and in the midst of people with an attitude of celibacy, and in the midst of events with an attitude of listening says in a radical way to the members and institutions of my function centered culture that there is another way, that there is an alternative. The religious is the alternative. She offers love of life as an alternative to death centeredness and ultimate religious meanings as an alternative to superficial and' peripheral meanings, and releases the Spirit as an alter-native to fixation on the material: God centeredness as an alternative to the merely humanitarian. This life may actually appear a bit too radical, too threatening for a culture so permeated and centered around values of possessing things, pleasing people, and controlling situations, and consequently may draw a kind of ridicule. The culture may do to us what we find our-selves doing to whatever we can't cope with. We either don't see it or we ridicule it. When this happens it be-comes quite difficult for certain personalities to remain available and receptive to the mystery of poverty, celi-bacy, obedience. They want to "rename" the experience something else, or explain away the mystery of religious living, or so rationalize their life that they become un-able to remain faithful. I may be tempted to question my call and to shift m~t centeredness to what is super-ficial and peripheral. To go on living, however, and to become the gracious recipient of misunderstanding and ridicule bestowed by a function centered culture--to be chastened and purified and to endure the ambiguity of it all--this is the "price" as Kierkegaard says of "willing one thing." The One Thing---or the One the religious wills is Christ Jesus. I make my willingness explicit by my vowed reverence for reality, and this very reverence is a profound alternative to the death and violence that thread through a culture where values are primarily and consistently functional. Religious community is a beautiful means of fostering and sustaining, religious centered life and discovering and manifesting the most radical and religious mean-ings of life. Religious community is radically different £rom other kinds of community just as religious centered living is radically different from function centered living. Reli-gious community is "where" religious life and centered-ness are born and sustained and enriched. Religious community is where we provide a home for each other and room for each one to be a special individual, where we joyfully engage ourselves in Christ's life and call each other to life and urge each other to go through the Pass-over togethermthe ultimate experience of life. Religious community is where we transform the life and attitudes, where we "expand the consciousness" of each other, where we are purified and healed and transfigured, where we enable each other to live as uniquely and fully as possible. Religious community is where each of us is marvelously engaged in telling one another the good news, inspiring each other to uncover the living God dwelling in her own heart, calling one another to un-cover her religious heart by her own special presence, encouraging one another to be a special individual and to share with each one in a grand variety of ways one's own special religious experience. Being together in religious community is being together in Christ. Christ is the center of our religious life, so together we initiate, form, and sustain a Christ centered life. We speak to each other by our religious living together: "Keep in mind Jesus Christ." In religious community there are all sorts of room for tremendous diversity--diversity of personality, inclina-tions, cultures, races, expectations, ages. Wonderful unity is born out of this diversity. Religious community is a heartfelt experience of Christ initiating and accomplishing redemption in me. I need His touch of redemption in my doublemindedness and indecisive conformity to peripheral values. I am inclined to betray life, to shift from religious to less ul-timate and radical living. But in religious community my sisters urge me out of darkness and death and sus-tain me in light and life. This fills me with a sense of joy and enables me to speak my courageous "yes" to live life religiously, to unfold my attitudes of expectancy and enthusiasm for life, my roominess and fxiendliness, VOLUME 29, 1970 207 ÷ 4- ÷ REVIEW FOR REL;GIOUS 208 my pioneering and prophetic spirit. Religi6us commu-nity gives my spirit direction, inspires me to face God and my sister and fellow man as an individual of great peace and inner unity and decisiveness to life whole-heartedly. My sisters call me toward the Unknown. They name me "sister" and ask me to share with them--not just what is external, but the hidden treasures of my heart. I need their light to quicken my desires and their help to form my consciousness and their inspiration that I may be graced with the ability to leave life alone and not overhandle and extinguish the breath of any living spirit. Religious community is where I make a home for my sisters and communicate to them the radical and ulti-mate meaning of life and my own radical consecration and identity. Religious community is life centered but not the center of life. When the community is actually religious the Lord God is our one Center. Community is a means of initiating, forming, and sustaining our God centered life. The purpose of religious community is to speak "Father, . Son," "Spirit"--to say to each participant: "K, eep in mind Jesus Christ; keep in mind your life center." If the community "says" anythingelse it is not religious community. If the community claims to be religious but in reality says: "I am the center of life," it lies and cheats and creates confusion and becomes more dead than alive. Religious community is reaIly meant to say--very simplyPto all its members: "Pray"; "be holy"; "be alive to the call of God in Christ jesus." Members of our culture who feel the call to live more radically--artists and students and black people-- look all about them for alternatives. When they look toward the establishment they see power, greed, pleasure. What are the alternatives? Where are they? Or rather-- who are the alternatives? The celibate me is a radical alternative to a. passion centered and pleasure centered culture. The poor me is a radical alternative to a pos-session centered culture. The listening, obedient me. is a radical alternative to a power centered culture. I betray the brightest, most creative and sensitive and radical people of my culture when I betray my poverty and replace it with preoccupation and fascina-tion with budgeting, clothing, entertainment, traveling. I betray these same people when I replace my obedience and creative listening with a preoccupation and fascina-tion for management, control, manipulation, domina-tion. And I betray them when-I substitute my celibacy with preoccupation and fascination with personal corn- fort and appearance, with pleasure, popularity, and maneuvering to be "in." A second remark by way of conclusion concerns replacements for the living God. There are all sorts of replacements. We e~ich have our own preferred variety, our own little gods and golden calves and plastic idols. One of the golden calves is humanitarianism. In place of Christ at the center of my life I put myself and humanity. In place of consecration I put commitment; in place of prolonged contemplative prayer, endless drawn out dialogue and interpersonal relationships; the institution and mass identity in place of the individual's uniqueness; majority rule in place of self-determination. In place of self-surrender I put self-consciousness; in place of life, death; in place of spiritual reading, study ~ind learning and the daily paper; in place of liturgy, secular celebrations; in place of intuition, measurement; in place of asceticism, ease; in place of mystery, proof; in place of recollection and withdrawal, overinvolvement; in place of the unknown, the' known; in place of dis-cernment, public opinion; in place of faith, ration-alism; in p/ace of insight, behaviorism; in place of re-sponsibility, conformity; in place of internalizing and personal appropriation, objectification; in place of in-spiration, explanation; in place of decision, discussion; in place of celibate community, personality compatibility; in place of harmony, specialization; in place of spiri-tuality, sociology and psychology; in place of spiritual direction, group dynamics. My fascination with nature may even become a re-placement and substitute for the living God. The touch of nature, the beautiful and artistic may well dispose my heart for the Lord God--or may become a substi-tute. Theology may become a substitution or replacement for spirituality. They are quite unalike., as different as Karl Barth and Thomas Merton, as different as Tan-querey and Teresa of Avila. Another golden calf is the crowd--which becomes a major replacement or substitution for religious com-munity. The crowd is the great killer of life and prayer and wholeness; the great and gigantic intruder upon the ground of the Lord. Crowd is different from reli-gious community. Community which is religious ini-tiates, fosters, sustains religious centeredness. The crowd protects me from the most radical depths of meaning because it deprives me of that authentic aloneness and true individuality necessary to go very deep. Crowd squeezes the life out of me and becomes a divisive and shattering force against my consecration. It is especially the task of the religious in the culture ,,L~,~ ~09 to be radically set aside from the crowd, to become an alternative and to inspire the peaceful individuality of the others. The religious is the one who is able to be profoundly alone and profoundly related to others. She is able to stand, to live outside the crowd around her by uncovering the uniqueness of her own life and re-specting the life of the other. The celibate religious stands in the culture, in the midst of men, as the one so consecrated to life that she refuses to exchange her cen-teredness around the Lord for assimilation and death in the crowd. I betray my call and my religious community and the entire culture whenever I avoid or repress or replace commtinion with the Lord God with any other com-munion. Religious are meant to stir up loftiness and great spirit and dignity and grace so that those who look upon religious life, even for an instant, may straighten up, throw their shoulders back, and stand tall because they have found life abundantly. Religious are meant to say to the culture in which they live: "Receive the touch of the Lord and live. Do not be overtaken by death." ÷ ÷ ÷ ~.~ter Ma~ F~nn REYIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 210 EDOUARD POUSSET, s.J. Human Existence and the Three Vows The Gospel texts* contain a threefold call con-cerning the kingdom: chastity, poverty, and the humble service, of others in obedience to the Father. Every Christian must necessarily reach a point where he real-izes that he is personally involved in this call and that he must, within the limits of his own vocation, conform his life to it. When this call makes itself heard in a man's life it penetrates to the very heart of his existence and invites him to make what can only be described as a staggering conversion. Everything that counts for a human being is, in fact, directly involved: marriage and a family and the possessions which his work and his freedom of action obtain for him. Whoever hears this call is obliged to reorientate his life and it can happen that a man will go so far as to renounce, . through a death and resurrection which transform him, the essential values of his existence: ¯. there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can (Mt 19:12)¯ . sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come follow me (Lk 18:22). ¯. anyone who wants to become great among you must be your servant, and anyone who wants to be first among you must be slave to all (Mk 10:43--4). It was in this way that all forms of consecration to the Lord which include the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience were born in the Church. These three vows do not in any way consist in marginal practices and devotions. Chastity renews the heart out of love for God and creatures. Poverty establishes a new re-lationship between man and the riches of this world. ¯ This article was first published in French in Vie consacrde, vol-ume 41 (1989), pp. ~-94. The translation was made by William Russell, S.J.; St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts 01562. 4" Edouard Pomset, S.J., is professor philosophy at Lea Fontaines; ~O-Chan-tilly, France. VOLUME 2% 1970 4. 4. 4. Edouard Pou~set, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Obedience converts the desire for power and by so doing initiates man into true [reedom. The wows are man's very existence as it is lived out. in accordance with the death and resurrection o[ Christ.1 That is their greatness. But the renunciation which they entail has so direct, an effect" on the living sources and, the very structures of existence that today many are asking themselve.s if they do not doom those who pronounce them to live a life which is inhuman. And let us be honest about it, thi~ is a risk. What are these living sources, these fundamental structures of man's very existence? What does the gospel call to perfection entail? In what way are the vows a risk? How does someone live the vows? How can the risk involved be overcome by dying and being resur-rected jn Christ here and now in this world? Human Existence Man makes his appearance on the scene of life and advances in existence by a triple dynamism which un-folds in three essential activities. By means of these activities h~ develops a human s6ciety and thereby comes to understand what he is. First, there is the amorous desire which directs a human being towards his counterpart: man towards woman and woman towards man. It is this desire which is at the origin of the conjugal and familial society. Secondly, there is the power to transform and ap-propriate for oneself the natural universe which is the extension of one's body. By his work a man takes possession of this world and establishes' an economic society iri which the relationship between all the mem- XThis definition presents a difficulty, namely .that of being ap-plicable to every Christian life and not restricted to the religious life as such. Nonetheless, inasmuch as we are attempting to situate the religious life in its relationship to human existence in general and not to the life of Christians who are not religious this difficulty is of no consequence in this context. Those who would like a more precise treatment of this point may wish to consult Karl Rahner's article, "La thfiologie de la vie religieuse," in the collec[ive .work, Les religieux au]ourd'hui et deraain, Paris: Cerf, 1964, pp. 53-92. The fullness of Christianity--the perfection of love for God and man-can be attained without the vows. But religious life, because of the renunciation which it entails, "makes apparent in a very evi-dent manner and incarnates in an obje.ctive reality the faith in the supernatural grace of God which transcends this world." It is quite true that a Christian who marries, possesses his goods, and enjoys his independence can integrate the values of this world in a life of faith and thereby reach perfection. But because his existence (mar-riage, wealth, freedom) already has a value discernible by this world, independently of faith, "it does not make the transcendence of grace and faith evident in such an impressive way" (pp. 79 and 8~). And this is exactly what religious life accomplishes. bers strengthens the individuality of each one and each one's individuality strengthens the relationship which exists between the members. Thirdly, there is the desire to be independent, which is man's way of asserting his freedom when confronted by his counterpart, and his ability to conduct himself rationally. This desire is at the origin of the political society where interdependencies take shape which are the conditions of each one's freedom. Man is a being of nature, he is part of nature, but he is not, as is the animal, merely immersed in nature. He is consciousness, which implies that he can stand up to nature, look upon it as the object of his under-standing and his action, and so dominate it. A careful analysis of the relationship which man maintains with the world by sensible and intellectual knowledge would show that he is able to hold his own with everything that exists: the earth and sky and all they contain as well as what they cannot contain. The universe is his property, the object of his consciousness, and it is his vocation to make this universe---even though he is com-pletely exiled from it when he first appears in the world--his own. When he has emerged from nature, all of nature has at one and the same time been gathered together in him and remained entirely ex-terior to him. Both present to and absent from him, the universe is for him the object of a fundamental desire. And this sitiJation renews itself each time a human being is born. An infant is different from an animal in that the latter has particular, selective in-stincts, whereas the child reaches out for everything and puts it in his mouth. Everything is his. Because he is desire, the human being is desire to dominate and possess. But by coming in contact with others and experiencing the things of nature he is forced to adjust this desire both to the resistance he discovers in things and to the comparable desire he finds in others. The master finishes by finding his own master and .at times he even finds him,. in the servant he first sought to enslave. The oppositions and the struggles result in humanizing men by bringing them. little by little, to know themselves~ for what they are, to respect one another, and to get along with each .other. But because, he is desire, the human being, at the same time .as he is desire to dominate and to possess, is also the secret aspiration to find in another a subject simi-lar to himself who recognizes him without being forced 2 To I~ow onesell (se reconaRre): a precise phrase whose meaning is very strong. By mutual recognition each one sees and appreciates in the other what he is and even contributes to the creation of this value within him. 4. 4. the Vows VOLUME 2% 1WO 21~ + ÷ Edotmrd Pousset, S.]. REVIEW FOR REL|G[OUS ~14 to do so and who enables him to exist as subject as well. Without this aspiration no mutual and brotherly recognition would result from the play of forces and violence. It is this aspiration which, coupled more or less with the desire to dominate and to possess, sets man and woman in motion one towards the other: Man and woman are drawn by their very desire to seek in the other the subject, the 'T' which is able to affirm their own subjectivity, so that their harmonized reciprocity must converge in union . If man and woman succeed in giving themselves in a gift of mutual and equal assurance they can then embrace and merge in an act which establishes their unity? We have all known engaged couples and we know only too well to what extent the meeting between a young man and woman and the promise which they make one to another can transform them and develop in them potentialities which were hidden up to that time and cause them, as it were, to blossom. An un-questionable sign that they are, one for the other, be-coming more human. The relationship between a man and his wife results in the conjugal and familial society. By the union of the sexes the desire of the human being to possess nature and be recognized as a person by another person is fulfilled in a way that is partial and yet which takes the form of an intense communion. What con-stitutes the attraction of this relationship is not so much the pleasure, in the trivial sense of the term, but rather the intense communion with nature and with men. By his body each spouse recapitulates for the other all of nature, and this body is at the same time a free subject who gives himself to another subject whom he recognizes as being worthy of this gift. All the devia-tions and all the failures which can be blamed on the desire to dominate and to possess which is mixed in with the love drive do not erase the grandeur and the beauty of this mystery. Man and woman come to know one another and out of their union a child is born. By him they become father and mother. Paternity and maternity are not added on to their respective beings much like a particu-lar and accidental function; it is a re-creation of them-selves by themselves, and by their child. By this re-creation man and woman reach the fullness 6f their masculine and feminine beings, and no one who has seen a young mother bending over the crib of her little child or heard a father announcing the birth of his son could ever doubt this. All those who have 3 Gaston Fessard, "Le myst~re de la soci~tfi," Recherches de sciences religieuses, 1948, pp. 168-9, and again in L'actualitd historique, vol-ume I, Descl~e de Brouwer, 1960, p. 164. consecrated themselves to the Lord by the vow of chastity know these things, they think about them-- at times with nostalgia--and they would like to be no less man and woman, within their own vocation, than their married brothers and sisters. Nevertheless, we must not lose sight of the fact that the relationship between man and woman con-ceals an antinomy: that of love (the disinterested de-siring of good for the other and the hope of being recognized by him) and that of selfish desire to domi-nate and to possess for oneself. In marriage this antinomy is resolved but by a fragile balancing which is easily put into question. However successful family life may be it is the success of a particular group. Even harmonious--supposing they are so--family relation-ships retain the stamp and the limits o[ their origin: a biological generation which, of itself, produces only the particular bond of blood. But the human being requires a more universal society so as to become fully himself; this explains why the child once grown up leaves the family circle and enters a larger society, that of work, where he comes in contact with other men. This transition is brought about by a necessary movement: even before he experiences the narrow-ness of the family circle man must work to live and this work gives rise to relationships which are more universal than those of the family. To work is to confront and transform nature so as to take exclusive possession of it by adapting it so that it becomes one's own. Whether it be the first gathering together of things by the cave man or the building of a space capsule it is always man appropriat-ing nature, By his work he procures the goods which satisfy his needs (consumer goods) and which extend his individual body into the world (tools, equipment). This appropriation of the world by man is not only r~ecessary for his sustenance; the strengthening of his individuality depends on it as well. Even supposing that he has what he needs to satisfy his animal need to eat and drink, man, without his house and the objects with which he fills it, without the tools of his work, would scarcely be a man at all. He needs to possess these things so as to reinforce his existence in the world. Without them he is a poor creature indeed. Step by step he must possess the entire universe. The world, t~ansformed and organized by work and tech-niques, is man's body. To make the world and its riches one's own is a human act as spontaneous as it is necessary; it stems from a need, itself as undefined as the desire behind it. It is this need---the limitless ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ Edot~r. , d Pousset, REVIEW. ~FOR ,RELIGIOUS 21,.6 multiplicity of needs and their satisfaction--which gives birth to the economic society. By means of his work man extends his intelligence and his strength .into a produ.ct Which he fashions as he distances himself from nature. This produtt, the re-sult of his work, is at first exterior to him, but in a second time it must return to him in one way ,or an-other so that he might consume it and thereby satisfy his needs. This is the circuit which takes shape: work stemming from a need; the producing of an exterior object; the appropriation and satisfaction of a need by consumption. But as he works within this circuit man comes into contact with other men as well as with nature and these men, in turn, are also at work. Their meeting gives rise to an indefinite and indefi-nitely more complex development of this circuit: in-stead of consuming the product of his work directly he exchanges it for the product of another. Exchange is a factor of progress and by it, so long as one is also a producer, one can obtain things under the best of conditions and at the lowest costs. The more a society develops the more the rate of exchange is intensified within that society and the contrary is equally true. But the desire to dominate and possess which is at the very heart of man enters into this circuit of produc-tion and exchange and throws of[ the mechanisms thereby causing all sorts of disorders and frustrations to the detriment of one and all and even to entire classes of society. This desire is at the root of the social conflicts which periodically disrupt the life of a nation. No economic system has yet found the solution to the contradictions which arise within human activity. When a solution is introduced at a given point, as in the socialist system which deprives private property of the means of production, difficulties spring up at some other point. The economic sodety does not possess the means of resolving the problems it generates. In addition, the economic society' exists only Within another .sphere, the political society, which comes into being as a r~sult of the relationship of one man ~o another. Man, as he emerges 'from animal nature, comes in contact with another "man and a domination of one over the other is the consequence of their encounter. WithOut this dominatiori of a "master" who forces his "slave" to work, the elementary needs which the hu-man being feels would have led him only so far as to~ instinctively gather up things or to hunt and this would not have been enough to draw him out of his animal nature. If the young schoolboy was not~ obliged by his teacher .to make straight strokes beiween the lines of his notebook or to decifer the marks in his school book he would never do much more than scribble, he would never learn to read and write and he would not become intelligent. At the root of all human and humanizing activity there is a discipline, a law, either one which man's reason imposes upon himself once he has become reasonable or one imposed on him by an-other in those areas where his reason has not yet at-tained full competence or efficiency. When a man comes in contact with another, author-ity is made apparent, as is obedience. The one and the other are necessary for the development of ]reedgm which is, in the final analysis, the value with which the political society is chiefly concerned. Whether it is a question of a band of thieves or a group of disciples which a saint gathers about himself, the authority of the leader is asserted and accepted as a fact. It is then legitimized by the feel and concern for the common good of the group which is evident in the person of the leader. This will be the very basis of the obedience of the members of the group. The dialogue between leader and subordinates stems from this mo'tivation" of the common good, and it is this dialogue which defines the obligations and rights of each one. Thus the flee dom of each member keeps pace with political society as it develops, whether it be a gang, a clan, a nation, or an empire. It is in political society that the desire of each one to be free and responsible for his conduc( takes shape. This determination, as in the case of the love drive and the act of making the world one's own, comes from the very depths of man, from what I have referred to above as desire. It is inalienable and s6 powerful that it is capable of setting in motion entire peoples fighting for their independence, for. and against anything and everything. It is good in itself but it can deteriorate both in an individual and in societies into a desire for power and a sense of pride which affect political relationships more or less seriously and at times provoke the most violent of conflicts be-tween individuals or peoples. Such, summarily analysed, is this third sphere of human experience, that of the relationship of man to man as he is taken as a human being independent of the man-woman distinction. It is the political society which attempts to integrate with-out destroying and to unify without confusing the two preceding spheres: the family and the economic so- .ciety. Amorous desire, the power to appropriate the uni-verse for oneself, the determination to be independent, free, and responsible are three "drives" which can giv, e birth to three passions or sins: the inordinate desire of the flesh; the thirst for riches and for self; the desire. t ././././~. l,'otus VOLUME 29,~1970~. ~ '" . Edouagd Pousset, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS for power and pride of spirit. The gospel call is not only addressed to these three capital sins, however, but reaches us at the very heart of our existence, inviting us to live according to the paradox of death and resurrection and thereby to go beyond ourselves towards the Love which is the life of the Holy Trinity. The Gospel Call The gospel call to chastity is one addressed to all. Some live chastity by remaining single while others-- by far the greater number--live it within the ~amework of a monogamous and indissoluble marriage. On this point Christ. preaches more by His silence and His own example than by what He has to say. Yet He also speaks of it in these terms: . there is no one who has left house, wife,¯ brothers, parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God, who will not be given repayment many times over in this present time and, in the world to come, eternal life (Lk 18:29-30). These words were first addressed to a man who had heard Jesus, the messenger of the good news, and who in turn desired to be God's herald. He had to be ready to leave everything at a moment's notice for the sake of the kingdom. "Because of my name" Matthew writes. This phrase from Luke quoted above sums up what is essential: to follow Jesus for the sake of the kingdom which, for some at least, includes the two conditions of detachment and freedom of action. In another pas-sage of St. Luke we find a similar warning but in this instance it is worded in the form of a far more general requirement: "If. anyone comes to me without hating his father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, yes and his own life too, he cannot be my disciple" (Lk 14:26). And our Lord adds: "Everyone who divorces his wife and marries another is guilty of adultery and the man who marries a woman divorced by her husband commits adultery" (Lk 16:18). Finally, at the conclusion of his teaching on the prohibition of divorce which so puzzled his disciples, Our Lord sets the price even higher when he speaks of "eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who canV' (Mt 19:12). Some have supposed, perhaps rightly so, that Jesus was referring to examples familiar to His listeners, John the Baptist for instance. They ask themselves if, in this comparison, He was thinking of perpetual con-tinence. Are we reading into these texts if we find in ¯ In parallel texts neither Matthew nor Mark make mention of the wife. them what Christ taught about the freedom r.equ, i~ed,, for following Him? Or does this interpretation take the edge off the point of our Lord's statement? J.-P. A,udet, who is not one to exaggerate the meaning of texts, asks himself these very questions and finds it ,preferable "to consider that Jesus was effectively thinking of the free choice of perpetual continence." 5 In the light of the example of our Lord tradition has interpreted this declaration as a. call to religigus chas-tity kept for the sake of the kingdom. Though the call to poverty recurs in numerous tex~ts, it appears at times to be addressed to very few: "If you wish to be perfect, go and sell what you own and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow reel (Mt 19:21). And yet this call is re-echoed in a warning against riches which is addressed to all: "How hard it is for those who have riches to make their Way into the king-dom of Godl" (Lk 18:24). In their primitive context these calls and warnings are to be understood as con-ditions for greater freedom necessary for one who car-ries the good news to others. They do not imply the condemnation of riches, even if they do underline the possible obstacle riches can be for those who hope for the kingdom. These calls become, in other passages, very general requirements which have to do with every disciple: Sell your possessions and give alms. Get yourselves purses that do not wear out, treasure that will not fail you, in heaven where no thief can reach it and no moth destroy it. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Lk 12:33-4). One must be careful not to hoard: "Watch and be on your guard against avarice of any kind, for a man's life is not made secure by what he owns." (Lk 12:15). Free with regard to the goods of this world the disciple abandons himself to providence: "But you, you must not set your hearts on things to eat and things to drink . Your Father well knows you need them" (Lk 12:29-30). Poverty is not sought out for itself; it is desired for that confident abandonment which prepares us for the intimacy of the kingdom. By poverty man becomes like unto God, a child o[ the king-dom; he follows the lead of the Son who is supremely poor (and thereby rich) in His relationship to His. Father. Because of one's poverty which makes~ him a child of the kingdom the hundredfold is repaid him here and now. As regards obedience, which is not the object of a for- ~ J.-P. Audet, Mariage et cdlibat dans le service pastoral de l'Eglise, Paris: Orante, 1967, p. 58. . ¯ . 4. 4. 4. Existence the Vows VOLUME 29,,1970 . 219 mal call in the gospels, it is, as seen in the Son of Man, the very heart of His mystery: "My aim is to do not my own will, but the will of him who sent me" (Jn 5:30). But the will of the one who sent Him was that the Son give His life for many: "For the Son of Man himself did not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mk 10:45). He calls to a service which He Himself has fulfilled in obedience to the Father: to become the slave of all as He did whose "state was divine, yet., he emptied himself to assume the conditions of a slave., even to accepting death, death on a cross" (Ph 2:6-8): You know that among the pagans their so-called rulers lord it over them and their great men make their authority felt. This is not to happen among you. No, anyone who wants to be-come great among you must be your servant, and anyone who wants to be first among you must be slave to al'. (Mk 10:42-4). This is how a man enters into life: "I have come so that they may have life, and have it to the fulF' (Jn 10:10). By religious profession this threefold call becomes the institutional norm of those who are called to this vocation.6 But confronted with what man is ac-cording to the dynamism of his nature, namely desire, the power to dominate and to possess the earth, and the determination to be independent, this gospel call institutionalized by the vows raises a problem felt very keenly in our times. Is it human to renounce the carnal expression of love, to renounce all goods, and to submit one's will to the power of another? Does the renunciation called for by the Gospels succeed in opening man up or does it accomplish just the opposite by imposing frustrations, on him? The Risk Involved in the Vows If the renunciation spoken of in the Gospels leads to a resurrection in this world it will be seen that it e Even if life in a religious institute is not the vocation of all, the renunciation called for in the Gospels does concern everyone in that all are called to perfection, to the kingdom of God, and to love, Man and wife, as they enter into a fruitful union and thereby collaborate by marriage in the creative work of God have to make their way as Christians towards the resurrection. They must be attentive to the grace which will perhaps predispose them and permit them to un-fold by choice, here and now, into the life of the Kingdom "where men and women do not marry" (Mk 12:25). Even those whose voca-tion is to make the earth bear fruit and to organize existence in this world are invited to become poor with Christ who was poor. Finally, in accordance with the diversity of states of life all Christians have to share the mystery of the Son who "'emptied himself., even to accepting death" (Ph 2:7-8) by living in such a manner as to make it apparent to all that they are disciples of the Master who "did not come to be served but to serve" (Mk 10:45). re-creates man and that it will not work against him except insofar as it enables him to be fulfilled over and above what he might have otherwise attained. But does this renunciation spoken of in the Gospels actually lead to a resurrection here in this world? Isn't it, for many who have embraced it, merely putting up with a num-ber of frustrations? Isn't it rather a question of slipping into and getting bogged down in mediocrity? Faced with this question one can first point out that the human being becomes human only to the extent that he exercises a certain interior asceticism over his spontaneous drives and converts their instinctive vio- ¯ lence into reasonable behavior. Without this the love drive, the power to make the universe one's own, and the desire to be independent are neither human nor hu-manizing. Yet it is quite true that the renunciation of the Gospels goes beyond this interior asceticism. Not only does it discipline nature, in a sense it contradicts it: to die so as to be reborn, yes, but to die, and in a very radical sense. If this is lived out in an awkward fashion it can give rise to harmful repressions and frustrations. This is the risk involved in the vows; this is why they are sometimes said to be "inhuman." But this does not tell the whole story behind the vows and the renunciation requested in the Gospels. If such were the case we would be left with the as-surance that they are both bad and harmful. Nor is this, generally speaking, the initial experience of those who embrace the religious life.7 But it is one aspect of the truth; it is a moments in Christian growth and development as the experience of religious life shows us when the daily ordinariness is felt over a period of 7 Most young people who respond to a call to a religious or priestly vocation experience their consecration as a fulfillment rather than as a profound contradiction or frustration of their being. Generally speaking di~culties arise later on in their religious life. s,,Moment,, implies a "stage" or "point" within a development. What is characteristic of a "moment" is that it contains all the re-ality which a development will eventually produce but without as yet making it apparent in an adequate way. Reality at this stage is seen under one or several of its aspects but not as yet in its totality. Therefore at a given moment when the renunciation spoken of in the Gospels and the vows themselves are felt to be "inhuman" we have an example of a partial truth overshadowing a more complete one: that the vows do not contradict man's fundamental dynamism except insofar as they enable him to outdistance this very dynamism and so fulfill him in a higher order of reality. To the extent that the religious will enter into this higher order of reality the more clearly will he recognize that the vows, far from being inhuman, are actually eminently humanizing. In certain periods of crisis or de-pression this more total truth can be entirely obscured. At such a time the partial but very real aspect of the truth--that the vows contradict human nature and can in a sense be said to be "inhuman" --is sometimes felt very acutely. the Vows VOLUME 29, 1970 221 Edouar d : Pousse t, REVIEW. F.O.R RELIGIOUS 222 -:years, when one finds it difficult to accept events, situa- ~tions, others, and even oneself, when disappointments .and deceptions begin to weigh on us. But this reality is. no scandal. For. those 'who have experienced the ups and. downs of their religious existence it is, in a sense, liberating. One can actually profit from such an ~experience by carefully evaluating it and seeing it as it ~eally is: limited, partial, and always there in the background. . This "inhuman" side o[ renunciation and the vows is especially noticeable when one confronts the celibate religious with the essential dynamism which draws man and woman one to the other and which finds its ¯ growth in the unity of a fruitful love. In the marriage .state ,perfectly happy lives are, without doubt, less numerous than those would have us imagine who are :sooyery alert to the failures or half-failures of religious life and who place, the cause of these " failures squarely on celibacy. It is nonetheless true that when we ~consider the physiological and psychic make-up of man .and woman, human love and its carnal expression .oppear as both the means and the goal of their ful-fillment ¯ here on earth. Human beings develop through :relationships;. and the richest, the most fruitful, the most humanizing of relationships seems to be that of a .man and woman united in a love which generates free-dom and responsibility. In marriage even those who are not destined to enjoy "the tomorrows that sing" experi-enc_ e,, at least in the beginnings, the joy of loving and ~being loved, the unfolding of an immense hope and .fll. e certitude of having found it. When their sexual attraction, diffused up to that time, is centered on a chosen being, man and woman, by the exercise of their freedom, reach maturity and enter concretely into a di~alogue which creates an even greater freedom. Their love~ in its carnal expression, because it is pledged ac- .cording to the concrete conditions of this freedom where each one is, for the other, a permanent appeal for a gratuitous love, must of necessity rule out whatever is ambiguous and whatever causes the possessive and domi-nating instinct to weigh heavily upon it. This may or may: not be the case; love can renew itself each day or it can slip into the trite and the ordinary; freedom can either grow or, on the contrary, become an alienato i~i~': force. The precise conditions of this creation and gr.o.wth 'are, however, given' to us: a man and a woman who choose one another accept whatever a life lived t6gether .entails, the grandeur as well as the risks of a frutiful union. /OppOsed to this is the notion that one who remains celibate or who chooses celibacy deprives himself of the very means of reaching maturity. He will, in any case, probably be longer in reaching that maturity. And doesn't the universal availability of the celibate conse-crated to God, an availability which does not link him to any one person in particular, mask an escape? Doesn't it place him outside the real conditions of af-fective life?° Finally, doesn't the ,sexual drive, contra-dicted in celibacy, run the risk of being kept under control by being repressed inasmuch as it does not find, it would seem, an expression which channels it, disciplines it, and makes it fruitful in directing it to the service of a creative love? These questions are by no means merely theoretical. Religious poverty gives rise to problems which are probably not so delicate as those raised by chastity. Poverty has to do with things and reaches the human being less directly. What would create a problem today is not so much religious poverty as the lack of it. We question ourselves more about the way of living poverty than about the means of remedying eventual inconveniences. Among possible inconveniences we should perhaps mention infantilism or the failure to fully realize what is involved in money matters or at least a superficial attitude which produces and sustains ir-responsibility in matters of purchasing and budgeting. He who has vowed poverty expects and in fact receives everything from his community without for the most part having to experience the price of things directly. These are serious lacunae. They indicate that we have neglected to face up to this objective and fundamental problem: that of work and remuneration or, to put it another way, that of the exchange of specified services. A child can expect everything from his parents; but an adult, if he is to avoid falling into infantilism, cannot expect unlimited services without asking himself the question of reciprocity and remuneration, the question of ,paying back. Money, in this sense, is not seen in a sinister light. It is a precise and very respectable in-strument of adult behavior. A poverty which would keep the religious on the outside of financial problems would be quite vain and perhaps even ambiguous, especially if it were based on a contempt for money. Poverty at times gives rise to another inconvenience. It consists in asking one's superior or his or her delegate ~A psychoanalyst asks this question: "How can we speak about the affectivity of someone who has put himself in a position where he will not be affected by anything or anybody?" Even though his question does not correspond exactly to the reality of the situation it does serve to focus our attention on still another aspect, that of the celibate consecrated to God who is not dependent upon a loved one--husband or wife--who might eventually betray him. .4, E~istence and the Vows Edouard pou'sset, . Sd. REVIEW ~FOR REI.IGIO~J~ :224 .fbr; everything and a bond of dependence is thereby created: poverty of dependence. If this dependence is strict and experienced down to every detail and for things insignificant in themselves it can result in a minuteness and a niggardliness entirely opposed to gpiritual freedom. To be able to pay for what one finds pleasing or what answers .a need favors a certain autonomy of the person which is in line with the human order of things. Close dependence on this point with regards to another can conceal a repressed and petty enviousness completely lacking in dignity.1° As regards the vow of obedience it too, as in the case of chastity, reaches the person at the heart of his human 'existence. Some, dreaming of a fraternal society with-out a "father," do not understand that a human being cannot become himself and assert himself without a relationship of authority. Such people look upon the vow of obedience as one of the most inhuman of aber-rations. But even when One admits the necessity of authority and of interior asceticism for converting instinctive drives, the vow of obedience, inasmuch as it pushea this asceticism to the very renunciation of one's own will, will seem to go too far and fall,, by excess, into something inhuman. Such a person will be unable to see that the sacrifice of one's will makes us die so ag 'to be reborn to the will of God, to the will to at-tain the kingdom of love where each one is truly him-self, above and beyond that which he might want very much. But if the secret of this death and resurrection is not clearly seen it is because it is something difficult to live. Because of their deficiencies religious are fre-quently the cause of the objections formulated against 'their way of life. It is so difficult to live freely accord-in~ g to the spirit of the kingdom of God in complete renunciation of one's own willl It is so very difficult to 'die to self so as to be rebornl Quite a few of those whb have made the vow adopt a middle-of-the-road solution~ which lacks both human and religious truth-fulness. Some, in fact, take their obedience lightly and .SO put themselves in a false situation. Others enter ¯ materially into the behavior required by obedience or tolerate a type of guardianship and even at times con-. form themselves to the will of superiors but without being able to renounce in depth their own will and judgment. This is not what is meant by dying so as to rise again. Rather ~hey live in a state of subjection which only frustrates them. It happens that the per-sonality is more or less stifled--only a moulage is left-- 1°This is perhaps more evident in communities of religious women. ~nd if at times iio bitt~tlless is felt ~of6 often thatt not the religious harbors secret resentments. Are the vows for or against mah? On the factual level the reply to this question is not all that evident. And this very situation favors the opinion of those who consider it hazardous or prejudicial to go against the fundamental dynamisms of human existence so completely. Living the Vows As impressive as the obj.ections are which one can raise against the vows, the strength and clarity of the gospel' call do not allow us to put into question the consecration to God by chastity, poverty, and obedience. In addition, the experience of those who are living the vows does not in any way lead them to think-- except perhaps in a moment of crisis or prolonged de-pression- that they are on a dead-end street even if in terms of human or spiritual success they still have much ground to cover. They see only too well the difficulties and even the risks involved in the religious life but they do not experience them as dangers ~rom which there is no escape or as barriers thrown up along their path. Many, by far the majority, are convinced that they were not deceived by the youthful eagerness of their early years in religion and the spontaneous joy of their first gift to God. But let us consider those religious men and women who have not yet attained the heights of perfection and who have not yet penetrated into the mystery of the death and resurrection of Christ. These religious know and feel that their vows have made them men and women with hearts full of love and wills that are free. They are frank and honest in their way of thinking as they go about converting all the relation-ships which constitute their human existence in society. What type of life do they lead? In our communities many attain a fundamental ad-hesion to the will of God, one which frees them from whatever tends to imprison their human intelligence and will. They owe this freedom to their obedience. In their superior they find a presence which helps them to see clearly. On their part they reflect and explain their reasons to him and his agreement confirms them in truth. If it is "no"--and they are ready to hear and accept this "no" without bitterness---they see themselves as being caught up in the search for a truth which is, for the time being, still beyond them, one free of self, of self-affirmation, self-seeking, self-interest. They know that they are no better than anyone else; to some degree their desire for power is still a factor to be reckoned ÷ ÷ ÷ Ethx~i sote Vnocwe s~and .'. " VOLUME 29, 1970. :.:., Edot~rd Pmuwt, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS with and their zeal, as generous as it is, still runs the risk of being warped by an instinct to possess and to take pleasure in things for themselves. This instinct is, in their eyes, a devouring weed even if it does not spread into everything they do. They do not dramatize their situation though they know that the most contra-dictory conceptions of the world and the most ruinous enterprises take root in this very desire for power and in this appetite for enjoyment. By allowing themselves to be converted by obedience they further the canse of peace and unity among men before God. For them to obey is to enter into the action of the all.powerful Master who renounced His power to the point of be-coming a slave and once a slave He did not attach Him-self to existence, as is ordinary in the case of a servile being, but rather accepted death through obedi-ence. This two-fold action is reciprocal as well: the God who becomes human uproots all desire for power of the "master" in us who wants to impose himself, and the man who is God frees the slave (ourselves) from his subservient attachment to life and enjoy-ment. Whether it is a question of moderating their tendency to dominate a discussion and so fall in line with the superior's will or not treating themselves to a cool drink on a hot day these religious are allowing them-selves to be transformed by this double and reciprocal action of God made man which is, in act, the salvation of the world. This is hard and mortifying on certain days, though their sacrifices are not without their hu-morous side, and as they are thereby reborn they are also called to die a little. Christ said that "my food is to do the will of the one who sent me" (Jn 4:34). It is a joy which nourishes us with the feeling that we are participating in a day to day way in the very mystery of the Son of God and in His lifel At times we protest against this obedience of judg-ment and yet it is this very obedience which com-pletely converts the relationship of force and inequality which, in all authority, exists between the leader and his companions. By this obedience they share the joy of serving the same Lord together, in a friendship which draws them close to each other and makes them equal. But as long as the judgments of the superior and his brother religious have not become as one--the su-perior accepting an attentive exchange with the religious and the latter in turn making known his reasons only so that he might better enter into a plan which may not, at the outset, be his own--a relationship of domination and submission persists. The decision reached under these conditions will be one in which the religious who obeys will be changed by the will of the ~superior. but his own judgment will remain outside their re: lationship. If, on the contrary, he is able to share the. judgment of his superior, all trace of submission ,dis-appears, leaving place for the communion of the two in truth as they both see it: a communion in joy and friendship. Obedience does not always lead to this, friendship and joy which are the ultimate truth of all authority, but there are those who experience it in their communities or in their .small apostolic groups. Others are still looking for .and hoping to attain this "friendship which draws close . " It is quite, true that those in authority who are narrow and .who do. not. possess all the necessary qualities continue to create. situations which we would hope never to see agkin in, religious life; but the sufferings of those who put up with these situations in no way cancel out this joy and hope for even there where no solution is apparent the mystery of the Master become a slave who ac-~ cepted death carries on its work of life. To die so as to be reborn: that is the mystery of. obedience. It is also the mystery of poverty. The poverty of the Gospels is a prophetic call inasmuch as it is set down as an absolute requirement for .entrance into the kingdom of God. The statements concerning it are uncompromising, categoric; they, too, are but a part of an incarnation which liberates. At first glance this call does not appear to take into consideration. the building up of this world by man who must con-tinue the work of creation. Immediate, material poverty, the literal conformity to the call of the Gospels: "Go and sell what you own and give the money to the poor., then come, follow me" (Mt 19:21) will quickly knock the supports out from under those who hold to some archaic fantasy or to a form of parasitism in this regard. When he vows poverty man does not thereby escape from the conditions of a creature who has needs. If he did he would become the parasite of those who possess because they work in lucrative enterprises. Perhaps he, too, would work, but in a gratuitous way by devoting himself to an activity which would not assure the satisfaction of his vital needs. Even if the work he is doing is being done out of his concern for the kingdom of God, the. fact remains that he would not be earning his livelihood; he would have to have some-one richer near at hand so as to be able. to live in his poverty. There are those among us today who have eXperi-enced the scandal of rich religious institutes or at least of institutes whose poverty is not meaningful for our times. These religious have heard the call of the Gospels 4, Existence'. Und ,.~ VOLUME !29,, 1970 :,.;~ ' 227 REVIEW POR RELIGIOUS aga~ln but they want neither fantasy nor parasitism. They feel that there is a disinterestedness with regards to the problem of money which can be a misunder-standing of precise human obligations. They have con-formed to "Go and sell what you own" but they are also clearly aware of the content of ". then come, follow me." For them to follow Jesus in poverty is to set out on a road of patience along which one takes into consideration the conditions to which he is sub-jected by his nature as a being who has needs. If they are to follow Jesus they must first submit with dis-cernment to the economic laws of their own historical context, .a context which can and does change. By their personal renunciation--"go and sell what you own"--they are in a way prophets as was the Messiah who had no place to lay His head. By humbly accepting to bear with the machinery of an economic system they are being faithful to Jesus who lived among men. And if this system should oblige them, if not to be owners at least to enjoy social rights and to receive benefits due them because of these rights, they accept--not re-luctantly, as if it were a crack in their wall of poverty, but willingly, recognizing in this the concrete form of their condition as men. Inserted in social structures which do not allow them to be, to the letter, "the beggars of Jesus Christ"--and, in point of fact, the parasites of others--they live poverty according to their own times by submitting to a precise system of economic exchanges where rights and benefits have as their coun-terpart services to be rendered and services actually rendered, all carefully defined. And yet they still feel free to serve over and above what is required of them, gratuitously, without counting the cost. Gratuitouslyl And it is at this point that they feel they are in a way prophets of their times because eco-nomic activity and its apparent and unrelenting law of "nothing for nothing" needs gratuitousness: The practice of gratuitousness is an everyday happening. In order to extend industrial production it is essential that dis-interested activities create a flow of applicable inventions and innovations and that the market be surrounded by a network of hopes and expectations (Father Perroux). Poverty is not a technique for resolving the contra-dictions of the economic society so as to assure its good functioning. Nevertheless, the poor religious does not feel himself to be unimportant in this society. His poverty, which contradicts the spirit of profit-at-all-cost and outdistances the rigidity of "nothing for noth-ing" is, in fact, in step with the society in which he is moving. Finally, the religious discovers that it is society which allows him to have access to the kingdom of God and in addition enables him to make the world his own. Because he does not possess things as does someone who owns an original oil painting by a famous artist and valued at a considerable amount of money his poverty frees him to see, hear, touch, taste, feel, in a word "make his own" the universe of things and beings just as a free and cultured man makes his own the work of art he goes to contemplate as connoisseur in a museum where it is for everyone. Poverty creates a new rela-tionship with things. The detachment it entails creates an availability for disposing of the world according to what it is, according to its beauty rather than its mere immediate utility. In this way the poor man pos-sesses the earthl Obedience and poverty liberate man but it is chastity which allows him to taste supreme freedom. Whoever has converted desire within himself loves God for God. This love satisfies within him the need which every creature feels because of the very way he is consti-tuted, but from this moment on what was carnal desire is now ardent adoration. He loves others as he loves God and this is why his choice can be shared among many without being, divided. The vow of chastity is the vow of friendship and love. There are many men and women among us who are not yet Francis of Assisis or St. Clares who know this to be true. They have known the joy of their initial eagerness and of their first gift. There was someone sleeping deep within them whom the Lord awoke. Springtime of lovel Then they entered religious life and discovered the weight of institutions and the ordinariness of daily life. It was no longer spring, but the love they had for Jesus Christ, rehewed each day, strengthened the delicate fragility of their youth. They grew strong and re-mained young. For them--for each one of us--the first step on the road of love was the break with the world. The love of God does not admit of a sharing and so they began by giving up many things. Some will perhaps speak of frustrated affections and sexual difficulties which can re-sult but these are but mishaps along the road. Men and women anxious to give themselves entirely to God do not look upon them as irremediable. To give up a human love for the Lord implies that one accepts to be momentarily "off balance" but this is part of human nature. They accepted this; this was their first authentic gift of faith. A second step followed this which was the Lord's doing. They were chiefly responsible for the first step ÷ ÷ + VOLUME 2% 1970 229 ÷ ÷ Ed6uard Pousset, " $.1. REVIEW!FOR.RELIGIOUS when they answered His call and actively committed themselves. In this second step it was the Lord who worked ~leep within them and detached them so as to attach them to Himself. They may have met others and discovered human love along the way. This is their secret. At. the point they had reached there was a great danger that the seduction of this human love might win out over their attachment to the Lord which was not yet fully rooted in their being. They alone can appreciate the sacrifice they had to make but one thing is certain: they grew because of it. At this same stage in their ,lives they also knew what fraternal life could offer: emulation in things spiritual, intellectual, and apostolic built strong friendships among them. which the passing years have not wiped away. They still have much to discover, much progress remains to be made, btit these friendships have enabled them to understand that there are not two loves, the love of God and the love of creatures, but only one. No one who has heard a simple word spoken by a friend which opened his heart and brought him in contact with God's love will ever be able to doubt again that this is so. There are not two loves. Love and freedom--that is the resurrection whose price is the renunciation spoken of in the Gospels and as it is practiced by the vows. But many reading these lines will ask themselves: where do I figure in this? Am I the one just described? Yes, you are there along with the others, but in religious life as in life in general there are stages and they are lived one after the other once one has a strong hold on what is essential. It is difficult, certainly, inasmuch as today community life which is the fruit of what is essential as well as the means of living it is something we are still attempt-ing to pin down. But the fact that we are still seeking cannot leave us in doubt as to the essential: to die and to be resurrected. The following experience invites us in a very simple way to self-forgetfulness: Community life is so "up-in-the-air" at this time that one doesn't really know what to say about it. From my own experi-ence I feel that the real benefit of living a vowed life in com-munity has been a difficult but rewarding school of self-forget-fulness. ,When this seed is planted and when it finds the soil healthy and productive (that is, a living, fraternal community) the vows enable us to develop and unfold with no danger of repression. Don't many of the problems we face today stem from the fact that we forget' the essential "virtues" common to any life in society, to any life lived in common? We neglect them because other things said to be more important have been given priority: dialogue, responsibility, "adult" religious life. . And so we set.aside the small favor done with a smile, the concern of making conversation at table interesting for the one next to us, in a word, a good disposition, and an ease, nothing more, which we all need. I may be tklking too down-to-earth here but it does seem to me that we can fool ourselves so easily. The vows are like a delicate flower which will not give forth it.s full bloom unless the sap runs into the stem and the stem is rooted in good soil. From the very first step we take in religious life until such time as we reach the summits it is always a ques-tion of this unique mystery: to die and to be resurrected. But the more we advance the more the question be-comes more precise and insistent: how do we die and how are we resurrected? I will attempt to tie to-gether the ends of everything said so far so as to focus on this one question. What I have to say doubtlessly presulSposes that a certain amount of ground has been covered. Nevertheless the question and the reply can be understood by each one according to the point he has reached. In the spiritual life there isn't a time for "more practical virtues" and a time for "more radical experiences"; those making their way through the former need, at times, the enlightenment provided by the latter--even if they are not exactly their own experi-ences-- and the latter still need the former as well. To Die and to Be Resurrected Religious life, as in the case of marriage though in a different way, enables us to discover litde by little that we must die. Chastity is mortifying as are poverty and obedience. When with the experience gained over the years the religious comes to feel to what extent his state in life dooms him to die the real danger, the only one for him, is not to know how to die or not to be able to die sufficiently. The resurrection comes only through death and no one is resurrected until and un-less he dies. Even though the religious committed him-self freely to this way of renunciation the death he must undergo does not depend on his good will. This impossibility for a man of good will to die to himself in Jesus Christ is at one and the same rime the problem and the key to that problem. It is the problem in that the price of the resurrection is death and if this death is impossible for him he is not resur-rected and his vows place him in the dangers men-cloned above. It is also the key to the problem in that the impossibility experienced in dying to self, namely to change and convert oneself so as to live the perfec-tion of the gospel message, is the basic condition for decisive progress along the road which leads to death and resurrection in Jesus Christ. Christ said this very clearly to His Disciples who, disturbed and confused by His teaching on poverty, asked Him: "In that case. who can be saved?" And he replied: "For men it is + + + fMaence and th~ Edouard Pousset, REVIEW FO, R.R~L~GIOUS impossible., but not for God, because everything is possible to God" (Mk 10:27). The question, then, is not to know if the vows are practicable or not. In all their strictness they are not. Nor is it whether there might not be a risk of "dehumanizing" man. The vows do, in fact, 'admit of this risk. The only question is to know if once one has reached the realization that he is unable .to live the perfection of the gospel message the Christian consecrated to God by vows is going to allow himself to be taken by his Lord, to die in Him so as to be resurrected with Him. Or better still, the question is to know how this can be accomplished. First of all, to reach this realization that "for men it is impossible" indicates that one has follov~ed Ghrist for a long time and sought to imitate Him with all the zeal and generosity which said "yes" without reserva-tion to His call. It is here that the importance of a certain inner asceticism is evident even if this asceticism is not, in itself, decisive. Many do not enter seriously ¯ into the paths of union with the God who is responsi-ble for their death and resurrection because they have not been energetic enough with themselves. This asceticism will mortify the desire to dominate and to possess which troubles the living sources of our nature. But there is more to it than this. Because of the religious state itself, these living sources are contradicted by the very fact that the vows impose a renunciation on vital poir~ts. But by itself this asceticism will not result in ~forgetfulness of self or humility; by itself thi~ renuncia-tion .will, not assure us of a peaceful balance nor will .it bring about the joy of being resurrected with Christ in this world. What the religious seeks actively by asceticism and renunciation can only be received as a gratuitozts gift. For of themselves neither asceticism nor renunciation through the practice of the vows make us die sufficiently. What we can learn from them and .what is their most authentic contribution is the ad- .mission that the perfection of the gospel message is im-possible. But before this precious fruit of the spiritual life has .matured by long experience the religious is exposed to certain serious errors along the road on which he so generously set out. If he remains negligent, not meas-uring sufficiently the importance of asceticism and what his vows require or, more correctly, what the Lord requires of him, it is evident that he will never die to self. Nor will he do so if he goes ahead courageously along a road of voluntary self-denial. At least it will .not be because of his courage. In the first instance he runs the risk of practising an abnegation which is on a merely human level and in addition there is the danger of falling into a voluntariness which is always in-operative when it is a question of killing our own will, our ego, that desire so essential to us of loving and be-ing loved,ix An abnegation which stems too unilaterally from man's good will and courage runs the risk of end-ing up in a violent forcing of the will by a suppression of desire. In addition to all these reasons find to many others weakness or, on the contrary, poorly guided energy can slip quickly into all the complications which accompany a mishandled psyche: The years pass and it happens that a kind of spiritual heaviness settles in and the beginnings which were so full of promise empty out in insignificance. Little by little the feeling of a half-failure or an incurable mediocrity spread through one who so generously gave himself to God. Then he reaches the critical hour of possible discouragement or of "wisdom" which, from then on, will keep him on a "good middle course." Most fatal of temptationsl But it can also be the hour of setting out anew, the hour of a "second conversion," for it is then that he fully realizes from personal experience that he is unable to convert himself, he is unable to die so as to be resurrected. This, then, is the hour of gracel The need to die remains but now we understand that the only way we can die is by God's hand. We must die on the cross and it is .Jesus Christ who carries the cross and who dies upon it. It is in Him and by the same death that we must die. Strictly speaking this is not the result of asceticism or voluntary abnegation. When it is a ques-tion of asceticism and self-imposed abnegation, our capacities are limited; they offer no solution other than the personal determination of going against our-selves. They are necessary, certainly, but we know how difficult it is for us to practice them with faith and good sense without a giving in on the part of some or a voluntariness on the part of others. The death out of which we are reborn implies the passivity of the creature under God's hand, and this is very different from an ascetical effort and quite the opposite of psychological depressions. God takes it upon Himself to have us live this passivity by means of the trials of existence but there are a thousand and ¯ one way~ of taking the trials of hfe poorly~ and there is very little chance that one look upon them and ac-cept them with peace of soul. If one has not [so disposed himself well in advance it is very difficult io keep the n It is important not to forget that in killing our own will and desire we do so for a very precise purpose: so as to be r~surrected and not so as to destroy them. Existence and the Vows VOLUME 29, 1970 $4. REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS kingdom and this death which leads to resurrection always in mind. What disposes to this passivity in faith is the realization we experience that the perfection of the gospel message is impossible for men. Coupled with this awareness is prayer.12 The cross which brings about our death is not within the reach of our initiative; prayer is. Prayer is both to take and not to take the initiative. Experience, as painful as it is beneficial, of our radical incapacity to imitate Christ in His chastity, His poverty and His obedience bears fruit in patience and simplicity, In this climate prayer leads us to union with Jesus Christ carrying His cross; it establishes us in Him and makes us die His death. He who prays in the peaceful admission of his weak-heSS is no longer he who lives, it is Christ who lives, dies, and is resurrected in him. First, it is Jesus Christ who lives in him--not yet in the fullness of transforming union which is the full par-ticipation in His resurrection but by a loving adhesion of the creature to his Creator and Lord by whom he is encouraged and sustained as he progresses. This loving adhesion reproduces in each one the experience of those who, in the history of Israel and later those who gathered around Jesus, attached themselves with all their force to the Lord. It is not yet the resurrec-tion; it is the life shared with the Lord made man along a road leading to the cross. At the price of this shared life the disciple, by a direct experience, enters into the mystery of his relationship of creature to Creator. Plung-ing himself in prayer and patience he hears the word of God as if it were being spoken to him: "In these words the Lord spoke to Jacob whom he created and to the Israel whom he himself fashioned: Do not be afraid; I have paid for you, I have called you by your name, you belong to me" (Is 42:1). Prayer not only enables us to realize that we are creatures, it also brings us in contact with the Lord as Beloved. There are those who know the Lord through the intermediary of people or books and there are those who have met him in another way, having been found by Him. They allowed themselves to be taken and from then on they belong to Him. The love of Jesus Christ penetrates into all the zones of personal-ity, intelligence, will, affectivity; and one day or an-other they understand that this love has become the X~Not just any form of prayer but certainly not discursive medi-tation which is still much too "active"; rather a very simple, loving prayer such as I have described elsewhere ("Pri~re perdue, pri~re retrouv~e," Vie consacrde, 1968, pp. 148-64). This form of prayer is possible only to someone who has at least begun to realize that the life of the Gospels is impossible for man. ver,y substance of their .being. They feel sure that the objections raised against their vow of chastity have little by little lost all their force as far as they are cdncerned. This universal availability which some will claim does not bind them to anyone in particular is, in f~ct, a. passionate adhesion to Someone. There is, they realize, no risk of being deceived or betrayed by this Someone and yet in spite of the certainty of their relationship with Him they .do not feel "settled in." The love of God is to .be created every dayl God is someone who has his views and his ways of doing things ~nd this sbmetimes adds a note of the unexpected to life. Those, then, who allowed themselves to be taken by Him do not have the feeling of "having been put i.n a position where nothing and no one will affect them." Having grown used to God a day comes when, in a silence which fulfills them, they sense the first signs of transforming union. This feeling of Presence which is not so much felt as it is experienced as something beyond all doubt is the beginning of this death and resurrection as they are lived conjointly, one within the other. For they know--and 'they live it in very precise encounters--that life with the Lord leads them to His' cross and on to the joy of rising with Him as well. This death of Jesus Christ in which baptism plunged them sadramentally now becomes their very existence. It is at this moment that they die to their immediate desire to love and be loved, to .their fleed to possess, and to their own will. What neither voluntary abnegation' nor interior asceticism--ivhich they prac-tice continually--could do, loving prayer accomplishes within them. They are in the morld, dead to the world, to themselves, and to others, and yet in direct propor-tion to this death they "are renewed, resurrected by an intense presence to the world through service, friendship, and love: I shall give you a new heart, and put a new spirit in you; I shall remove the heart of stond from your bodies and give you a heart of flesh instead. I shall put my spirit in you, and make you keep my laws and,. sincerely respect my observances (Ez 36: 26-7). Resurrection The vocation of those who have embraced chastity, poverty, and Obedience is to anticipate the resurrection here in this world. It is likewise the destiny personally pro-posed to all. Let those accept it who canl Dead and resurrected, the religious--and every Chris-tian as well "to whom it is granted" (Mt 19:11) by God-- receives the outpouring oi universal charity. The Lord first .became for him the Beloved who introduces him ÷ + ÷ Existence and VOLUME Zg, 1970 by faith into the secret of an intimacy which is his joy. He has heard the word of the Psalm: "Listen, daughter, pay careful attention; forget your nation and your an-cestral home" (Ps 45:11). He listened and the Lord spoke to his heart: "I have loved you with an everlasting love and so I am constant in my affection for you. I build you once more; you shall be rebuilt, virgin of Israel" (Jr His joy is not his joy, it is God's joy; and he can in-crease it merely by allowing himself to be loved and filled. From that moment on the promise of God is no longer a promise: "I shall be their God and they shall be my people"; x3 it is a present reality: "I am my Be-loved's and my Beloved is mine" (Sg 6:3). The others, according to the diversities of divine grace, become his beloved as well.x4 The religious loves them dearly. The friendship which he vows them is no longer something in addition to his love for God; it tends, at least, towards total unification with this love. These others are not enveloped as it were in a universal charity which would deny them any particular atten-tion. He loves them all and he loves each one for what he is. He does not love Peter and John in the same way. And it is only fitting that God placed this preference for one or another in our hearts. Because of this exceptional grace he reaches almost without effort the end he hoped for and worked so hard to attain. In one and the same act he loves his unique Savior and the creature who truly becomes for him the sacrament of the presence of God. He was obliged to live his consecration to God in renouncing human affections because, in fact, his heart was divided. From now on he lives only one love and it seems to him that he understands the friendship of Ignatius for Xavier, of Francis of Assisi for Clare, of Bernard for William. He does not need someone to tell him this marvelous story; it has become the story of his own life. He is poor and yet he possesses the earth. He no longer has his own will and yet God Himself does what-ever he requests: "If you ask for anything in my name, + + + Edot~ard Pousset, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ This phrase is found throughout the Old Testament. u Friendships and human affections can and do exist in those who are consecrated to God by the vows but have not as yet reached that intimate knowledge of Love. Ordinarily these commitments are not very profound and this is for the better for as long as the heart is, in fact, divided between God and creatures. There are other friendships and human affections which are, however, quite differ-ent from those just described. I am speaking of those which have God Himself as their initiative: those where He has made Himself the principle, the bond, and the end. These presuppose the intimate knowledge of Love and they take possession of the whole heart so that there is no division whatsoever between God and creatures. ][ will do it" (Jn 14:14). He seeks only the kingdom of God and yet everything else is given to him over and above this. At this stage joy and the cross are lived as one. He does not talk about it because he knows that he can hardly explain it to himself. Some will see only his suffering; others will not see beyond his surprising free-dom. But his hope knows no limits; he does not see that what he has been given gratuitously should not be given to all. He reveals his secret without telling it: it is to have believed. I do have faith, Lord. Help the little faith I havel 4. 4. 4. £~ten~e and VOLUME 29, 1970 237 cYRIL VOLLERT, S.J. The Interplay of Prayer and Action in Teilhard de Chardin ÷ ÷ ÷ Cyril Vollert, S.J., is a professor of theolob, y at Mar-quette University; Milwaukee,. Wis-consin 53233. REVIEW,FOR RELIGIOUS The theme underlying Teilhard de Chardin's ideas concerning the interplay between prayer and action is well stated in his essay, "The Heart of the Problem." a He wonders why Christianity, with its tremendous power to attract, is not more successful in the modern world. Not only have energetic missionary efforts in Asia, Africa, and elsewhere produced meager results, but the great masses of workers over the earth, as well as most scientists, have found little to interest them in the Church. Teilhard believes that he knows the answer. Any at-tempt at solution must take into account the changes that have marked men's thinking for over a hundred years. We now know that the universe is not static; our cosmos is a cosmogenesis. And man himself is involved in the evolutionary process; mankind is an anthropogenesis. Man is still being shaped, and the human race is heading toward social unification. In the past, religion has sought to perfect man by directing him upward, toward God, and has been little concerned with purely human prog-ress. But men of our time are convinced that they can complete themselves by moving forward. So the vital question is this: is the salvation of man to be achieved by looking above or by looking ahead---or by both to-gether? Failure to face this question squarely results in religious apathy. Teilhard proposes to face it. Why should anyone wish to choose between the Up-ward and the Forward? Teilhard contends that we must not make any such choice. We must combine the two 1 In The Future o] Man (New York: Harper and Row, 1964), pp. 260-69. movements. If Christianity were to ignore the new aspira-tions of mankind, it could not hold its own adherents, much less win over the unconverted. Without human faith and love, Christianity is cold and unattractive to contemporary man. The Christian faith must be intensely interested in the values of the world and of matter, for the simple reason that it is rooted in the Incarnation. In pre-evolutionary ages, Christianity perhaps assigned too subordinate a function to man and the earth. But just as the Incar-nation did not take place until our planet was socially, politically, and psychologically ready for Christ, so now, in the evolutionary perspectives opening up before us, we can see that the kingdom of God will not come until mankind in its anthropogenesis has reached collective maturity. The supernaturalizing Christian Upward must be incorporated into the human Forward. In this way faith in God will recover all its power to attract and convert, for we can believe wholly in God and in the world. We can do this because Christ, Savior and Re-deemer, is carrying evolution both forward and upward to its final goal. Teilhard thoroughly believed in his own program and, while stir a young man, consecrated himself to it: As far as I can, because I am a priest, I would henceforth be the first to become aware of what the world loves, pursues, suffers. I would be the first to seek, to sympathize, to toil; the first in self-fulfilment, the first in self-denial. For the sake of the world I would be more widely human in my sympathies and more nobly terrestrial in my ambitions than any of the world's servants. That is why I have clothed my vows and my priesthood (and it is this that gives me my strength and my happiness) in a determination to accept and to divinize the powers of the earth? Christians have different but complementary voca-tions; they devote themselves in varying degrees of in-tensity to action or to prayer or to both together. God's call, which Teilhard likens to the star of the Magi, "leads each man differently, by a different path, in accord with his vocation. But all the paths which it indicates have this in common: that they lead always upward." a The world, too, has its vocation; it is destined to attain its perfection in the fullness of the incarnate Word, in the cosmic Christ. Teilhard's own vocation was manifested in two truths which God had let him see: the universality of God's magnetism and the intrinsic value of man's undertakings. He was eager to spread far and wide a knowledge of these two truths. And so, on the day after ~Hymn o] the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), p. 128. 8 The Divine Milieu (New York: Harper, 1960), p. 120. + Prayer and Action VOLUME 29, 1970. 239 ÷ ÷ ÷ Cydl Voll~t, $.]: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2,4O his final religious profession, in a meditation on his priesthood, he offered his life to God: "And I, Lord God for my (very lowly) part, would wish to be the apostle --and, if I dare say so, the evangelist---of your Christ in the universe." ~ This he regarded as his "special vocation," and he was faithful to it to the day he died. Such a vocation is carried out in action. Teilhard in-sists that all Christians have the duty of building the earth. Even the increase of leisure, fostered by technical. progress, ought to be consecrated to research. Teilhard tried to show that human efforts to promote intellectual, technical, and social advances must bring about the nat-ural conditions of maturity necessary for establishing the kingdom of God. But the urge to action must be directed and sustained by prayer. The Christian must work; but he must Christianize his work. The supernatural con-summation of the world cannot be accomplished by merely natural powers; the world must be sanctified and supernaturalized.5 Therefore a life of prayer and con-templation has a high efficacy, indeed, a "creative power': for the world. Seeing the mystic immobile, crucified or rapt in prayer, some may perhaps think that his activity is in abeyance or has left this earth: they are mistaken. Nothing in the world is more intensely alive and active than purity and prayer, which hang like an unmoving light between the universe and God. Through their serene transparency flow the waves of creadve power, charged with natural virtue and with grace.° The health and integrity of the Church depend on the care exercised by its members in carrying out their functions, which range from worldly occupations to vocations that call for penance or the most sublime contemplation: "All those different roles are necessary." 7 Christians .who devote themselves to prayer have been singled out for the task of carrying the world above its concern for pleasure and enjoyment toward higher goals. They are like miners laboring in the depths of matter; or, to change the figure, they supply the air which their brothers need to breathe. Along with the sick and the suffering, they become "the most active agents in the very process that seems to sacrifice and crush them." s Purity (here understood as the rectitude brought into our lives by the love of God), faith, fidelity, charity, and hope must accompany the most earthly of our actions. But these virtues flower in contemplation ~ Hymn of the Universe, p. 151. s H. de Lubac, S.J., Teilhard de Chardin: The Man and His Mean-~ ing (New York: Hawthorn, 1965), pp. 123 f. O Hymn of the Universe, p. 154. ~ The Divine Milieu, p. 75. ~ L'energie humaine (Paris: Seuil, 1962), p. 64. which, in spite of its apparent immobility, is the highest and most intense form of life.9 In response to God's grace, which is "always on the alert to excite our first look and our first prayer," we are led "to posit intense and continual prayer at the origin of our invasion by the divine milieu, the prayer which begs for the fundamental gift: Lord, that I may see." On saying this, Teilhard at once utters his petition: Lord, we know and feel that You are everywhere around us; but it seems that there is a veil before our eyes. Let the light of Your countenance shine upon us in its universality. May Your deep brilliance light up the innermost parts of the massive obscurities in which we move. And, to that end, send us Your Spirit, whose flaming action alone can operate the birth and achievement of the great metamorphosis which sums up all inward perfection and towards which Your creation yearns: Send forth Your Spirit and they will be created, and You will renew the face of the earth?° Teilhard is quite cognizant of the prayer that is in-herent in the duties of a person's state of life. Such duties, faithfully and well performed, put us in contact with God: Let us ponder over this basic truth till we are steeped in it . God, at his most Vitally active and most incarnate, is not remote from us, wholly apart from the sphere of the tangible; on the contrary, at every moment he awaits us in the activity, the work to be done, which every moment brings. He is, in a sense, at the point of my pen, my pick, my paint-brush, my needle--and my heart and my thought. It is by carrying to its natural completion the stroke, the line, the stitch I am working on that I shall lay hold on that ultimate end towards which my will at its deepest levels tends.'~ However, in addition to the prayer that may be in-volved in our work, explicit prayer is indispensable if our action is to be effective for constructing the kingdom of God. Teilhard is very insistent on this truth. He pgints out that unless we maintain direct contact with God by prayer and the sacraments, "the tide of the di-vine omnipresence, and our perception of it, would weaken until all that was best in our human endeavor, without being entirely lost to the world, would be for us ~niptied of God." But if we safeguard our relation to .God who is encountered in prayer, "there is no need to [ear that the most banal, absorbing, or attractive of oc-cupations should force us to depart from Him." Be-cause of the creation of the universe by God, and par-ticularly in view of the Incarnation, "nothing here below is profane for those who know how to see." Teilhard strongly exhorts us: "Try, with God's help, to perceive ~ H. de Lubac, La pensde religieuse de Pdre Teilhard de Chardin (Paris: Aubier, 1962), p. 318. Io The Divine Milieu, pp. 111 [. v. Hymn oI the Universe, p. 83 f. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLOME 29; 19~0 241 4- 4- 4- REVIEW, FOR ,RELI~IOU$ the connection-~even physical and natural--which binds your labor with the building of the Kingdom of Heaven." We should never do anything without realizing its constructive value in Christ, and pursuing it with all our might.12 In line with his perception of the harmony between faith and science, Teilhard endeavored to integrate his own prayer and his work. He became increasingly aware that he had to develop in himself and impart to others "the sort of mysticism that makes one seek passionately for God in the heart of every substance and every ac-tion." He saw dearly that "God alone, and no personal effort, can open our eyes to this light and preserve this vision in us." He well understood that the "science of divinizing life calls for the diligent co-operation of every form of activity . It needs the sacraments, and prayer, and the apostolate, and study." 18 If we wish the divine milieu to grow around us, we must steadfastly "guard and nourish all the forces of union, of desire, and of prayer that grace offers us." 1~ Success cannot crown so great an enterprise unless prayer issues in work: "I know that the divine will will only be revealed to me at each moment if I exert my-self to the utmost." 1, The Christian must preserve his union with God by prayer; but he must also respond to all the demands of grace: "To win for himself a little more of the creative energy, he tirelessly develops his thought, dil

Issue 29.6 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, 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 editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to Rxvmw Fog R~LmtOUS; 6x2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. .Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1970 by REVIEW SOR REI, mtOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvmw sort RELmmUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REvmw sog RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW sort RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box l 110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW sog RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 6 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, s.J. Spiritual Counseling and Pra er. Fostering an ever deepening relationship with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit constitutes a major objective of the religious life. Traditionally the road to such a relationship has been a formal schedule of prayer. The daily horarium of spiritual exercises has been an essential part of almost every congregation's rule or con-stitutions. During the past decade styles of religious life and prayer have undergone change, especially among younger religious. Emphasis on the relationship with God remains, but the way of achieving this relationship and what it means differ. The new religious is more aware of what he is before God and before others. He is more aware of the Spirit working in the secular world; he recognizes God in himself, in the persons and events of his daily life. He encounters Christ in his contacts with others. Formal prayer, such as meditation, recitation of the Office and rosary, seem less impor.tant to him. In some instances, they have been abandoned in favor of a fre-quently renewed commitment. Flexibility. in Prayer In response to changing attitudes, many congregations have started to experiment with more flexible approaches to prayer. Freedom, previously unheard of, has been ÷ granted. Set periods of obligatory prayer have given way ÷ to approaches geared to unique personalities and temper- ÷ aments and to the dem~inds of a particular apostolate. This change has let a breath of fresh air into many communities, but at the same time it has created a vac-uum. Formal scheduled prayer, while it can and has helped individuals to grow in the likeness of Christ, is subject to the danger of routinism. It is relatively easy for a religious to deceive himself into believing that he is growing in the spiritual life because he spends the time at prayer required by rule, whereas little true prayer is ac- 803 Richard Vaughan, S.J.; P.O. BOX 519; Los Gatos, California 95030; is Provincial for Edu-cation of the Cali-fornia Jesuits . VOLUME 29, 1970 .÷ R. P. Va~ghan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 804 tually taking place. Some religious have been content to spend the assigned time at daily meditation, Office, or rosary, even though little recognizable benefit resulted, simply because the rule prescribed it. Young religious have come to question such a view. The focus of their religious life is more on the frequently renewed dedica-tion. However, just as the traditional emphasis has its limitations, so too does the recent approach. A spiritual life placing heavy emphasis on seeing God in the world of people and events can gradually give way to a human-ism in which one is no longer actively aware of God and centers rather on the purely human with a subsequent loss of the original commitment. Value of Spiritual Counseling Regular spiritual counseling can counteract this dan-ger, inasmuch as it requires the counselee to face honestly and openly his continuing commitment to the service of God and neighbor and, it might be added, to see the need for some form of regular prayer if an active awareness of God's presence is to continue. The process of spiritual counseling differs radically from psychological counseling and psychotherapy. The latter two are concerned with changes in personality and the reversal of symptoms resulting from the application of psychological techniques, whereas spiritual counseling focuses on the person's life with God. The spiritual coun-selor attempts to help the individual become more aware of his religious experiences. Basically he is trying to assist the counselee in discerning the workings of the spirit, so that he can determine what is the will of God for him in concrete situations. It is true that emotional disorders and faulty attitudes injure this discernment, but chang-ing these personality characteristics is not the spiritual counselor's proper function. Recognizing them, however, and the part they play in blocking discernment is. When personality characteristics are such as to handicap seri-ously any true discernment, then it is the responsibility of the spiritual counselor to direct the religious to a compe-tent professional so that these limitations can be reme-died. Spii'itual counseling serves a number of important functions. First of all, it allows us to have a better under-standing of the nature and quality of our relationship ,with God. It makes us actively aware of our daily reli-gious experiences. In our routine-ridden world, it is very easy to put aside a certain amount of time for prayer but seldom reflect on the efficacy and effectiveness of this prayer. We are apt to gloss over the question: Is my prayer truly prayer? Moreover, spiritual counseling makes us clarify and sharpen our thoughts and feelings about religious experiences in a way we would never do if we settled for a few minutes of self-reflection. When I must explain these experiences to another, I am forced to scrutinize them and then describe them in clear, accurate terms intelligible to my listener, As I talk about such things as the place of Christ in my life, God as a loving Father, prayer, the manifestation of grace, the working of the Holy Spirit, or God's will, I gradually sort out the genuine from the false, and the important from the un-important. I become aware of my openness or.my lack of openness to God. I become aware of the many ways that God is operating in my life--either directly or indirectly. I experience a deeper appreciation for God-'s manifesta- .tions. On the other hand I may well see that a wall seems to exist between God and myself. I may come to the conclusion that I have closed myself off from or denied many of God's manifestations. I may see that I have rejected important graces and c6ncerned myself exces-sively with my own world. If left to myself, it is less likely that I would come to realize my own selfishness and. lack of concern for God and neighbor. Listening Spiritual counseling involves three phases: listening, dialogue, and decision. Listening is an activity .of both the counselee and the .counselor. Even though the coun-selee may never reflect upon the fact, he listens to himself and to the promptings of divine grace within himself. As he talks he becomes aware of God working in and through him. Moreover, it is assumed that previous to the coun-seling session he has listened to God speaking, especially at times of.prayer. These promptings of grace become the subject of discussion. It should be noted that God speaks in many ways: directly through His Spirit, through reve-lation, through others, and through the events 6f everyday life. One 6f the goals of counseling is to determine when God speaks as opposed to the promptings of our sinful nature. Listening is also the work of an effective counselor. It is sometimes falsely considered "lending an ear." If one is present and aware of what is being said, he is thought to be listening. The truth of the matter is that listening is a very active process requiring much concentration and ex-penditure of energy. It demands that the counselor try to be aware of what is taking place within the counselee at each moment he is with him. It also demands that the counselor recognize the various levels of functioning, such as the spiritual, the cognitive, the conative, and the affective, as well as the relationship and integration, or lack of integration, of all of these functions. For instance, the good listener is one who is perceptive enough to see ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 805 ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW "FOR RELIGIOUS 806 when emotions have taken over to the detriment of the Spirit or when habitual attitudes block thoughtful reflec-tion. The good listener hears not only the words but the way the words are expressed. He notes the tone of voice as well as the mode of expression; from these he is able to estimate the emotional involvement. The spiritual coun-selor as listener concentrates on any indication of the Spirit working within the counselee. He notes blocks or hindrances to the promptings of grace. At times, he sees that the counselee has a need to unlSurden himself before he can become aware of God's presence in his life. The counselor listens with empathetic concern. He attempts to discover what God means to the connselee, his reli-gious experiences, the depths of his faith, and his atti-tudes. Frequently all of these can be learned by active and attentive listening with little need for probing or questioning. Before the counselor enters the second phase, namely, the dialogue, he makes sure that he has at least an adequate estimate of the counselee's spiritual state. Dialogue The second phase, the dialogue, presupposes a rapport which allows the counselee to talk freely about his reli-gious experiences. Concerned listening often brings this about, inasmuch as it produces a feeling of acceptance, which permits the counselee to express freely his views without [ear of rejection. A dialogue is a conversation in which two persons reason on a topic, exchanging ideas and opinions. They examine the evidence for and against an action or a position. The initial stance is one of open-ness to all possibilities. When the term is used in relation to spiritual counseling, it implies that the counselor and the counselee examine the latter's spiritual condition, re-flecting upon its state. I[ all is well, they evaluate the signs indicating that the individual is following God's will. If there is a problem, they weigh together possible solutions, considering arguments for and against each. During the first phase the counselee describes his spirit-ual condition, which then becomes the topic of discussion during the second phase. The counselor helps the counse-lee enumerate arguments favorable to and opposed to a particular stance; he helps him evaluate the relative mer-its of each. He assists him to see when and how the Spirit is working in concrete situations. He also helps him to-ward a greater awareness of God's presence. Counseling is a learning situation. It is a time when an individual learns more about himself. Often this is accomplished without giving advice or direction. As the counselee talks about his relationship with God and neighbor, he be-comes more aware of divine intervention in the world of grace. He begins to see on his own what changes should be made and what he should do to bring about improve-ment. However, there is still a place for direction and guidance, especially in counseling younger members of a community. For instance, if a religious has never learned to pray properly, the counseling session c,'in afford an opportunity to teach the fundamentals, followed b3) a period of testing and reassessment. It can also be the occasion for presenting the traditions of a community, a time when the religious can consider whether he is fol-lowing these traditions or whether he really wishes to do so. Whether one makes use of advice and. guidance de-pends upon the needs of the individual counselee. It is the task of the counselor to determine these needs and then proceed accordingly. Decision-making At times, decision-making is part of the counseling process. Frequently, however, the purpose of counseling is simply to help an individual come to a greater aware-ness of God's manifestations and to a better understand-ing how he is or is not following God's will. When there is a need to make a decision, it is hoped that the counsel-ing will result in the counselee arriving at a decision on his own. The function of the counselor is to see that the counselee confronts all the options and weighs their rela-tive merits. Rarely should the counselor force a final deci-sion based on his own evaluation of the situation. If the counseling is truly counseling, most counselees can arrive at a decision without undue influence on the part of the counselor. An inability to do so may signify some kind of a psychological problem. dttributes of the Counselor Who can counsel? What should be the characteristics and abilities of the spiritual counselor? First and fore-most, he or she should be a person of faith, aware of the world of grace and the divine manifestations; one who has personally experienced the presence of God in his own life. He should be a person who can and does love both himself and others. He should be perceptive, with the ability to see below the surface and recognize the depths of personality and spiritual growth. He should also be able to communicate well his thoughts and im-pressions. To be effective, he or she will need adequate training in the theology of the spiritual life and, hope-fully, will have previously sought out a spiritual counse-lor for himself or herself. Psychological training can be helpful inasmuch as it offers some procedures directly or indirectly applicable to spiritual counseling. It should be noted, however, that it Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 807 can also be a handicap if the counselor, as a result of his training, centers most of his attention on personal prob-lems to the neglect of the spiritual. If young religious are to develop a full spiritual li~e, and if older members are to realize the renewal urged by Vatican II, there is a need for an abundance of spiritual counselors--at least one or two for every large commun-ity, It is quite evident there are too few priests with available time. The most logical solution is for congrega-tions to train the members of their own communities as spiritual counselors. They could select those best suited by previous training, experience, and personality, and assign them to this important task. Many orders or con-gregations of men have already inaugurated such a pol-icy, but they find it impossible to supply priests who can devote themselves fully to the counseling of religious women. Conclusion A perusal of the early history of the religious life re-veals a minimum of structure with a great emphasis on regular spiritual direction. Due to the constant effort of a spiritual counselor each monk grew at his own rate in the likeness of Christ. As members increased individual coun-seling became more difficult and was gradually replaced by the ordered daily horarium of spiritual exercises, the goal of both being the deepening of the monk's relation-ship with God. If contemporary religious congregations are to realize the inner renewal sought by Vatican II, they would do well to consider a return to a style of religious life grounded in regularspiritual counseling. ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR R~LIGIOU$ SISTER KRISTIN SHRADER, R.S.M. Prayer Is Listening Several years, ago, Karl Rahner began speaking of the "Church of the Diaspora," the Church which had come of age, which had forsaken the trappings of bourgeois collectivism, which had become the standard, of a commit-ted few. If the diaspora has characterized Chrigtianity, it seems even more so to be characterizing contempoi:ary religious" life. The wane of numerical strength has made it clear that convents and seminaries are in the throes of a crisis of vocation and a crisis of belie[. It is within the context of religiotis life in the Church of the diaspora that I would like to discuss the question of contemplative prayer. Our age, engulfed in a deluge of media and messages, has been characterized as one which "has lost the apti-tude for prayer.'.' 1 If prayer is listening not only to the Spirit as He works in our hearts but as He works in the world around us, then perhaps our age has also lost the aptitude' for listening. Perhaps we are deaf to'entire re-gions of ourselves and our world. I shall try to describe these hidden domains, and, in the process, try to l~rovoke us to hear what we have not heard before. Perhaps we are deaf to that part of ourselves and our world which is beyond that which merely performs "actions. This is the self and the world which do not act, but which are the mirrors in which God acts so as to let Himself be known. This is not the self-made self and not the man-made world, but is that which is passive, which is fashioned and illuminated by God. How are we in the last third of the twentieth century to find a new way to pray, a new way to listen? I suggest that we look at our unhearing selves in terms of two new images: that of pilgrim and that of prophet, instead of in terms of the image of professional or of achiever. This means that to listen, to pray, we must not do, achieve, or accomplish anything as the world accomplishes things, but rather that we must learn to listen by holding our- I Wino~ de Broucher, S.J., "Mortification in Prayer," Cross and Crown, March 1963, p. 13. 4- Sister Kristin writes from Lewis Hall (Box 219); University o[ Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 29, 1970 809 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Kristir~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 selves in readiness for something, or rather for someone. This patient readiness is what I think Karl Rahner was describing when he spoke of prayer as "this awful waiting." 2 It is what Augustine meant when he said that the continual desire for God is prayer. I can neither explain nor understand prayer. Perhaps no one can: "There are thresholds which thought alone, left to itself, can never permit us to cross. An experience is required--an experience of poverty and sickness" 3 or, perhaps, of love or of sacrifice. By attempting to describe something, prayer, which I cannot explain, perhaps I can, though, suggest how we "listen." Merton suggests the form that such a preparation for prayer might take: (1) detachment and (2) finding ideas about God in all we do.4 His second suggestion corresponds to what I will describe as living as a prophet, as one who sees the signs of God in all things. His first suggestion, detachment, corresponds to what I have called living as pilgrim, as one who can look inside himself to see that he desires God and God alone, and that this world is b/at one stage of his Godward development. Amid the dissonance of the desires of this world, the pilgrim alone truly knows how to listen. He knows that this world is not his home, that he is journeying to God, and that this very journey is what we call prayer. As Merton says: "The secret of prayer is a hunger for God and for the vision of God, a hunger that lies far deeper than the level of language or affection." ~ Much this same point, that prayer is a desire for God, a consciousness of our being pilgrims, of our listening to what is in, but not of, the world, is made not only by Merton, but also by Teresa of Avila, by Aquinas, by Paul, by Guardini, by John of the Cross, and by Karl Rahner. When John of the Cross wrote that the man of prayer "will desire with all desire to come to that which in this life cannot be known," 6 he was making much the same point as Paul whose prayer was his desire for God: I think that what we suffer in this life can never be compared to the glory, as yet unrevealed, which is waiting for us. The whole creation is eagerly awaiting for God to reveal his sons . Creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning until now the entire 2 Encounters With S!lence (Westminster: Newman, 1965), p. 25. a Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen and the Birds o] Appetite (New York: New Directions, 1968), p. 56. ~Seeds o[ Contemplation (Norfolk, Connecticut: New Directions, 1968), p. 133. ~ Ibid., p. 140. ~ The Complete Works of John of the Cross (Westminster: New-man, 1949), v. 1, p. 76. creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bodies to be set free. For we must be content to hope that we shall be saved--our salvation is not in sight., it is something we must wait for with patience. The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows perfectly well what he means.' These are the words of Paul who longed ~o be deliv-ered from this body of death and to be with God, Paul who wrote to his Philippians: "I want to be gone and be with Christ." s Thus, for a man who really desires God, prayer is no longer problematic, because we pray as we live. As Merton puts it: "As a man is, so he prays." 9 Thus the man who listens is he who is able to hear his own deep desire for God. He, the pilgrim, is able to say: "I want God and I want him more than anything else, and I will wait for him." This is what Teresa of Avila meant when she uttered her Deus solus sul~cit. It is this realization which is the substance of prayer. Following along these same lines, Karl Rahner says that the ulti-mate meaning of daily prayer is the awful waiting for the God we desire: "The prayer that You require of me," writes Rahner to God, "must be, ultimately, just a pa-tient waiting for You, a silent standing by until You, who are ever present in the inmost center of my being, open the gate to me from within." 10 For Rahner, being a listener, a pilgrim, was based on the realization that nothing on earth is worth abandon-ing oneself to it. Thus all life is one prayer, one long aspiring for God, like the lives of the wise virgins of the Gospel, si~ch that our eternal possession by God is the answer to our lifelong prayer, a prayer which basically is like that of John of the Cross: I live, yet no true life I know, And living thus expectantly, I die because I do not die Within myself no life I know And without God, I cannot live.n Out of our Augustinian restlessness-~our restless until they rest in thee--and out of our wholeness and for finality is born contemplati Thi~_ pr_~esupposes, of course, that we can hear~ ' Rorn 8:18-27. s Phil 1:23. ~No Man Is an Island (New York: Harcourt, Brace 1955), p. 42. 10 Rahner, Encounters, p. 24. ~ Works of John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 450. hearts are ~unger for ve prayer. he cries of and World, 4- 4- + Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 81I Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 812 our hearts for wholeness. The penalty for failing to artic-ulate our inner longings for God, for failing to risk the often painful encounter with the unseen God within Us, is being doomed to live a boring, supercilious, superficial life. But none of us wants to live a superficial life, just as none of us wants to live a life devoid of prayer. The crucial question, then, is: How do we learn to listen, to live as pilgrims? How do we begin to utter the "I want God" which is the essence of contemplative prayer? Pascal says that we would not seek God unless He had ¯ already found us.12 This suggests that we cannot learn to desire God, because He must find us first. This suggests that John of the Cross was correct when he said thatthe soul that has union with God no longer has any methods of prayer, that within the limits of the supernatural there are no prescribed ways.13 Pascal's remark also suggests that we do not really learn to look for God; rather, we realize He is already within us. Seeking Him should be for us, as it wa~ for Paul, a continual realization that He has already found us, that He dwells within us. "Know you not," Paul virtually shouts out, that "you are the temples of the Spirit?" 14 Paul knew that God had found him, had loved him.15 As John said: "Christ first loved us." i~ Perhaps we do not have a tremendous desire for God because we have not been stripped of all else. That is why we cannot live as listeners, as pilgrims. 1 referred earlier to the necessity of detachment if we were to listen to the cries of our heart for God--lf we were to llve ~'s pilgrims. This emptiness means, I think, that we realize that just as love demands sacrifice, so prayer dhmands discipline, that we cannot live by our feelings and then call it fulfillment, that we cannot live by rationalizing and then call it hearing the Spirit. I think this ~mptiness means, too, that we must bear patiently even our inabil-ity to desire God. Only When we learn to suffer with our own inability to find Christ, only when we discover our own spiritual poverty and our own hunger for God, only when we learn to agonize over the whys of existence and God and self---only then will we have prepared the ground out of which the solitude of contemplation will grow, because on.ly then will we have learned to listen. It is~hard to learn to listen, hard to say "I want God" when we know that the very conditions of our finding God demand sacrifice: the sacrifice of regular, disciplined ~ Quoted by Louis Evely, That Man Is You (Westminster: New-man, 1964), p. 15. ,1, Works o] John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 76. it Rom 8:9-11; I Cor 3:16. ~ Rom 5:8. 101 Jn 4:19. prayer, the saca-ifice of not trying to rely on an of prayer but only on faith, the sacrifice of "a ihg," as Rahner calls it,17 the sacrifice of reno that we possess, as Luke says,18 the sackifice of o dung what we used to call gain, as Paul says.19 All these forms of sacrifice are" what Cassian "purity of heart," what Christ meant when no man can serve two masters, what Merton using Zen to still the birds of appetite, wh~ Eckhart meant when he said: "To be a proper God and fit for God to act in, a man should a] from all things and actions, both inwardly wardly.20 In saying that detachment and mortification condition for the contemplative prayer ofa li: being a pilgrim, we enunciate the dictum of Jc Cross: Solitude is o;eated by an unsatisfie~ John of the Cross compares wrong desires tc which obstruct the sight of the soul,2~ and says hess that is uncreated cannot enter the soul, not first cast out that other created hunger whk to the desire of the soul; for . two contrari dwell in one person . " Yet, in spite of our knowledge that we will ne union with God in prayer without first emp hearts of other desires, this knowledge does cause us to desire God. On the contrary, it is dous grace, I think, for a person living in th~ lose interest in the things that absorb the discover in his own soul an appetite for po y methods ~vful wait-ancing all )unting as meant by said that meant by it Meister abode for so be fi:ee and out-is the pre- ;tener, for hn of the hunger. cataracts that "ful-l there be h belongs es cannot vet attain Lying our lOt alone a tremen-world to orld and 'erty and. solitude. How can we prepare ourselves to r~ zeive this gift of grace? I think we can begin, as Merton'says, by not trying to understand, explain, or produce a ~lesire for God or for contemplative prayer. Rather, we on ght to .try tq see, to listen . and this seeing and hearin experience, not rationality, out of which pray! How else can we learn to hear the pure ~ which is the threshold for prayer? Paul sugges~ learn to really listen to the Spirit when in th~ chapters of the first epistle to the Corinthians, guishes two types of wisdom. The first is a ~ words; it is rational and didlectical. The secon~ dom of the cross; it is experiential and para6 was the second sort of knowledge that Paul kne about Christ. The word of the cross is self-empt Rahner, Encounters, p. 2~. Lk 14:33. Phil 3:7-9. Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen, p. 9. Works oI John oI the Cross, v. 1, pp. 42-3. Ibid., p. 36. is pure is born. Cperience how we first two .ae distin-isdom of is a wis- ~xical. It w told us ying, and ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 813~ 4, 4. Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 814 only it enables us to know in the Biblical sense of know-ing as possessing in the act of love. Those who love have a new logic of knowledge and from this new type of wisdom comes the experience which is prayer. But prayer, listening to the reality of all that happens, is not merely being aware of our desire for God and our condition of being pilgrims. Prayer is not only to love God above all things, but it is also to see him everywhere in all things. This was what Teilhard called "purity of heart." 2a That is, prayer also is a type of listening which looks outward and sees the world as filled with signs of God. It is tlfis type of prayer whose exercise demands that we al! be prophets, revealing the hidden things of God out of tangible happenings. This type of prayer is not problematic if one's world is shot through with God. But how do we listen such that our world is seen and heard as permeated with God? One way, I think, is to build on the crucial experiences of life, since prayer operates by means of issues which are ulti-mate in our lives. That is, prayer operates according to our systems of values. Prayer, or the lack of it, affirms what is, or what is not, important to us: That is, the happenings which drive us to the ground ques-tions about human existence and which elicit our deepest self commitments are., good preparations for deep prayer. We find in the profound experiences of love and creativity an in-tensification of our spiritual self-possession, accompanied by a lucid awareness of the contingency of our world, which is already an encounter with God. From such peak experiences we can slowly learn to feel how God is always present to our human action?~ Perhaps we cannot learn to pray because we cannot really see or hear. Perhaps we are too much a part of an age which is activistic rather than prayerful, pragmatic rather than spiritual, anthropocentric rather than theocentric, compromising rather than disciplined. Thomas Merton once wrote that if we were really look-ing for God,. every moment and every event would sow seeds of contemplation in our hearts.2~ That is, if our hearts were ready, we would see that "the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls" as Simon and Garfunkel say. All life would be a sign if we knew how to listen to God. How do we become prophets, so that we can listen to the signs of God that are heard in life? Perhaps one way of listening is conscience. Perhaps another is being aware of a seeking that is unsatisfied by material things. As we =Hymn of the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), p. 124. -"~ John Carmody, S.J., "Contemporary Faith and Prayer," Sisters Today, November 1967, p. 105. "~ Merton, Seeds, p. 18. passively search, or listen, we become aware of God's work in us and in the world around us and we respond. This response, is prayer, and it was brought about, as Scriptures say, by sleeping with our hearts awake.2~ And our heart is kept awake by love and discipline, by faith- [ulness to the insights of prayer, by watchful attention. This continual search is the 'condition of continued growth, and faith is the condition of continual search.27 For us to be prayerful, then, requires that we learn to see the world as prophets, as full of signs of God, and this requires faith. But what is the object of our faith and how is it attained? Jesus told us to seek and we would find, and yet He did not tell us what we would find. In fact He said there were no close directives for discovering His kingdom. It would come unawares; it was within . His coming would be like a lJlghtning flash.-~s If this is so, then perhaps all we can do is to be like watchful virgins, ready for the hour when His light and His prayer comes. Another way of being "ready" is, I think, to eliminate the defensivensss and self-protectiveness of our words, by opening ourselves to understand, by giving up the secu-rity of set words or positions. If we know how to listen, then a person who confronts us with angxy words is really saying he is afraid to love us. A person who says God does not exist is really saying no one ever made God meaning-ful to him. Listening this way means hearing God. And after all, (lid not God know how to listen? He loved us first, as John says.29 He became a slave so that we could be saved, as Paul says, and He loved us while we were yet sinners.~0 Why is it that we cannot see signs of God, that we do not know how to listen and to pray? Perhaps it is because Christ is not real enough for us . but how is he made real? One way, I think is by the way in which He gives shape to our lives by the vocation that we, with the Spirit, choose. This is because, for the Christian, love is the only absolute, and' our vocational dhoice and our prayer are both concrete ways of expressing this love. When Jesus prayed, it was always in response to His vocation; He prayed before choosing His Apostles, and before His passion and death. To pray in this way, as Christ prayed, demands that we listen to the signs of God in our vocational call. We pray for much ~he same rea-sons that we want to be religious: we want to preach God and to praise Him and to help bring forth His kingdom. ~ Canticle of Canticles 5:2. ~ See Rosemary Haughton, On Trying to Be Human (Springfield, Illinois: Templegate, 1966), p. 42. = Lk 17:24. .o0 1 Jn 4:19. ~o Phil 2:7; Rom 5:9. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 815 Si~ter Kristin REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 816 We want to find Him. For these reasons we pray. For these reasons we are celibates living in community. Thus the surrender to God's will which characterizes listening prayer seems, identical with a resolve to go ahead vocationally with what we know we must do. And what we must do is necessitating precisely because it is a faithful expression of who we are. Prayer and vocation both say who we are; they constitute our identity, and they are both linked together. If we are faithful to who we a~e, then we listen. Then we do not have to run around trying to fill up people with. God, because we know He is already there, that we have already been redeemed. Then we are abl~ to make visible, in daily events, the fact that behind the anxious sincerity and idealism and capacity to love of most people is the face of Christ who loved us so much that He came to liye among us, that behind the dirty curtain of Viet-nam, and racial hatred, and all the ways in which we are insensitive to those with whom we live, is the face of the crucified Christ. This is the raw material of prayer, and knowing how to listen refines it into prayer. If we know how to listen, then we do not have to look at the world as if it were built in two stories: the first floor, the natural level, the second floor, the supernatural level. If we know how to listen, we do not have to try to depend upon laws or habits or practices or veils to speak, of God. Our love will do it for us. Instead, we can take the world as it is, lavished by God's love and our poor attempts to love, and see it as holy. I do not think the person of prayer, as prophet, is pietistic.or aloof or unapproachable; I think he or she is One who is able to recognize in all men the face of the Messiah, the one who, as prophet, is able to make visible what is hidden and hopeful the one who was without hope. Such a person is compassionate and merciful; he realizes that nothing human is alien, that something looks profane only because his eye is not sacred. Out of this human compassion, the heart of a true prophet is opened not only to his sisters and brothers, but to God. In listening to them, he can listen to the man of Galilee who called illiterate fishermen, who talked with learned Pharisees, who wept over Jerusalem, and who, finally,. had nowhere to lay His head. Jesu.s redeemed us, and if we listen, we know that. When we listen, we will become aware of all that is beautiful, that is one, that is in pain and anguish, of all that is holy, in the Body of Christ. With this awareness-- and we have to be aware--we go to the Father in the Spirit, and we praise Him and reverence Him and lift up to Him the suffering members of His Body. It is this awareness which is the door to deep personal prayer. In fact, contemplative prayer is a witness to a special type of awareness: that of faith. Here:, God is present to the self and the contemplative listener is called to live in a more intimate communication with that mystery. Just as de-tachment was the precondition for the prayer which was desire for God, so faith is the precondition for the prayer which sees God in all things. When we can live these two types of prayer, when we are both pilgrim and prophet, we can listen, and we hear precisely because we have stilled our own murmurings and hear Christ in others. When we are all this, we have, as John of the Cross says, both entered upon the road and left the road at the same time.al At this point we will have given God, not our feelings, not even our thoughts, but ourselves. And when we have done this, we can say with Rahner: "Your commission has become my very life. It ruthlessly claims all my energies for itself; it lives from my own life." az We can say with Paul: I am not my own any longer,as At this point, our prayer will be the utterly simple prayer of listening because we will be living and moving and having being in God. Prayer will happen because we pray as we live, and we must live as pilgrims and proph-ets. In the end, all I have said comes down to our living with the unshakable conviction, of those who wait, that now we see a dim reflection in a mirror, but that one day, one day, as Paul says?4 we will see face to face. Works ol John oI the Gross, v. 2, p. 70. Rahner, Encounters, p. 72. Philem I:10; Phil 3:12. 1 Cor 15:12. Prayer. VOLUME 29, 1970 817 JOHN O. MEANY AND SISTER MARJORIE CAREY, B.V.M. Psychology and "The Prayer of the Heart" J. O. Meany is as-sociate professor of. education and Sis-ter Marjorie teaches Russian at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 48556; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Incredible as it may seem, there is an ancient Christian tradition of prayer which seems to be almost unknown to Christians in the West. How many Western Christians, for example, have heard of "The Prayer of the Heart"? This Eastern tradition of prayer, sometimes called "Hesy-chasm," may play an increasingly important role in the personal and interior "reformation" which is, hopefully, now taking place in the Roman Catholic Church in the West. There are changes emerging in the Western ap-proaches to prayer and to spiritual formation: a return to a more interior life of prayer and a personalistic and psychologically-conscious spirituality. In order to return to what is more basic and funda-mental in the psychology of prayer, it is essential that we distinguish between those particular aspects of Western Christianity which have been determined by our own unique culture(s) and traditions and, on the other hand, those aspects of prayer and spirituality which are, in an anthropological sense, relatively "culture-free," or more universal and fundamental. It may be difficult to com-pare. our own familiar forms of prayer and spirituality with those which are relatively more independent of our own experience and traditions, but only in this way can we obtain a new view of the primary sources of the basic Christian spirit. There are, of course, as many approaches to G6d as there are (from the human point of view) facets of His Being; and there are as many paths to Him as there are individuals whom He guides along these paths. For God is not limited by our limitations. He draws each individ-ual to Him in a unique way. Yet it seems that, however unique the way, God usually draws a person to Him by using that person's cultural and socio-economic back-ground. Eastern and Western traditions and personality characteristics differ; thus the mode of prayer of an East-ern Christian may seem to be radically different in ap-pearance, if not in reality, from that of a Western Chris-tian. In recent years, however, many young Westerners have turned to the East for new approaches to spirituality; they have found in some forms of Eastern spirituality-- particularly in Zen Buddhism and Yoga--new insights into themselves. Similarly, we, too, may come to see more clearly our own sources of spirituality, through an at-tempt to understand a different Christian tradition. In-deed, one seldom understands his own country until he has left it to travel abroad. | Historically, the Prayer of the Heart d~tes back to the fourth-century desert fathers of Egypt wh~ insisted on the ideal of continual prayer. The Prayer of/he Heart, often called the Jesus Prayer today, began to e~nerge in recog-nizable form during the fifth century; and the full text of the prayer can be found in the life of tl~e sixth-century Egyptian hermit, Abba Philemon. A coln~non~ expression of the Jesus Prayer, rhythmically said froth the heart, has bee,n,: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. This form of prayer can be descr!,b~d as: "Standing before God with the mind in the heart. | The roots of the Jesus Prayer are to belfound in Scrip-ture itself. The Jews of the Old Testarpent so revered Yahweh that His name was considered to [be an extension of His Person, a revelation of His Being.I This reverence for the name of God continues throughout the New Tes-tament: "At the na,m,,e of Jesus every kne~ should bow, in heaven and on earth (Phil 2:10). Indeed, lthe entire Jesus Prayer is existentially, as well as Biblically, oriented. Its similarity to two other Scriptural prayers is apparent: the prayer of the blind man, "Jesus, Son ~f David, have mercy on me" (Lk 18:38); and that of the [publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner" (Lk 18:13). In t!me, a body ,o,f traditio,n, al teachin~ c,a, lled "Hesy-chasm;' meaning quietness' or "reppse, grew up around the Jesus Prayer; and at least 'since the sixth century the tradition of the Jesus Prayer has influenced the spirituality of Eastern Christians. During three peri-ods of history the Jesus Prayer has been particularly in-fluential in the East: during the Golden Age of Hesy-chasm in fourteenth-century Byzantium .under the great theologian,. St. Gregory Palamas; during the Hesychast renaissance in Greece in the eighteenth century when the great anthology of Eastern spirituality, the Philokalia (love of the beautiful), was written; and during nine-teenth century Russia under Theophan the Recluse. To understand better how the Hesychast approach could contribute to the West, one might examine how it ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer o] the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 819 4. 4. 4. I. O. Meany and St. Marjmle REVJEW FOR REL]GIO0$ 82O has already contributed to the East; for example, how it has contributed to Russian spirituality, as that spirit has grown out of the environment and "national" character of the Russian people. The Russians are predominantly a silent people; this is evident in an old Russian custom: traditionally, whenever a member of an old Orthodox Russian family leaves on a journey, the entire family gathers in silence to pray. The family remains silent for several minutes; then the father rises to bless the family and each member of the family silently traces the Sign of the Cross on his forehead while facing the. family icon. Afte~ this paternal blessing, mutual blessings are ex-changed. This love of silence may also have led many Russian Christians to a contemplative life. There is also in the soul of the Russian people a primitive, almost naive simplicity; yet in this simplicity profound depths may be fathomed. Russian spirituality has been imbued with this simplicity which is so characteristic of the spirit of the Gospel. Their prayer life, too, has always been simple, without a complicated rational (or discursive) for-mula. Still another characteristic of the Russian peasant is his love of the rhythmic beauty of life--the" rhythm found in the cycles of nature and family life. This is especially apparent in the works of Tolstoy, who so com-pellingly depicted these cycles in his great epics, War and Peace and Anna Karenina. This love of rhythm, found also in Russian music, is clearly reflected in the rhythmic breathing of the "Jesus Prayer." One of the most obvious characteristics of the Russian peasant is his yearning for open and unlimited stretches of land. The geography of the land, therefore, influences the national character ofthe people, which in turn, af-fects the forms of their spirituality. The vast open areas of Siberia, the immense forests of the country, seems to have evoked a response to the Infinite which is reflected in personal religious experience. Because of this yearning for space, the Russian peasant has also been somewhat of a pilgrim. This, of c6urse, is true of many cultures and personalities; indeed, the whole history of man can be seen as a journey. Yet as Nicolas. Berdyaev points out, this spirit of the wanderer seems particularly characteristic of the Russian people. Through the centuries Russian pil-grims have traveled from afar in search of peace and spiritual renewal, visiting the famous cathedrals of Kiev, Novgorod, and other places of pilgrimage. They have traveled especially to those places where a "staretz," a man of God, prayer, and discernment, was still to be found. Thus, the innate yearning of the Russians for vast unlimited space has made them a nomadic people. This spirit of the wanderer, in search of truth, is .underscored in The VCay of a Pilgrim, a story of a Russian pilgrim who journeys forth, continually repeating the Jesus Prayer. This unknown Russian pilgrim has made the Eastern mode of prayer more available to Westerners through his personal religious experiences which are de-scribed in The Way o[ a Pilgrim and The Pilgrim ,Con-tinues His Way. The Jesus Prayer is a prayer that comes from the heart. It differs from the current Western and, perhaps, more cognitive approach to prayer; yet as St. Teresa of Avila points out, the important thing is not to have m~ny thoughts, but to have great love. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved the idea of the whole man: body and heart as well as mind and soul. This more total approach to "spirituality" seems to be meaningful for modern Westerners, as can be seen in the new orientation of such books as Harvey Cox's The Feast o[ Fools, Dechanet's Christian Yoga, Dom Aelred Graham's Zen Catholicism and Norman Brown's Love's Body. The difference in modes of prayer, then, between the East and the West is based not only on cultural and personality characteristics, but also on the different atti-. tudes toward man which are prevalent in the East and in the West. For centuries. Europeans and Americans have tended to emphasize man's rational nature; and since the Counter-Reformation, this emphasis has found expression not only in Western scientific methodology but also in various discursive "methods" of prayer, such as the Igna-tian, Sulpician, Salesian, and Ligourian. Descartes' dualism, or Western rationalism, has failed, however, to create in the (non-Westernized) East the head/heart dichotomy that it has fostered in the West. The traditional Russian peasant seems never to have lost his sense of wholeness. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved that broad perspective of "the whole man," an integrated body-heart-mind-soul. Perhaps the Zen scholar Daisetz T. Suzuki was right in contending that Western thought has erected barriers be-tween man and reality; barriers of concepts, imagery, cas-uistry, and reasoning. Consequently, instead of bringing us closer to reality, language has frequently separated us from it. For example, if a person rigidly decides not'to think about sex, he often finds himself unconscio~usly in-volved in it. There is a story of a Western theologian who decided to marry just after writing an elaborate treatise on celibacy; the theologian admitted that all his former theories had been "mental constructs." In terms of depth psychology, this type of theological "construct" might be seen as an intellectual defense, a defense which .broke down under the pressure of previously-denied (emotional and sense) experience. Repression fosters "acting out.:' Similarly, current Western existential "philosophy" can the Heart ,. VOLUME' 29,. 1970 :~" 82L ~. O. Meany and Sr. Mar]orie REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 822 be seen as an attempt to break through (defensive) logical constructs in order to come closer to the "living reality." The East, however, is in a sense, already "existential" and has been throughout its long history. Though recent Western theology has tended to be Cartesian or dualistic, the Russian has always been more at home with an existential or phenomenological ap-proach to God and prayer. The writings of Dostoevsky were influenced by Orthodox spirituality; this approach is often viewed as both intriguing and somewhat threat-ening to a Westerner, whose spiritual formation has o.ften been unconsciously conditioned by abstract ideals and logical categories. However, existeritialism and phenom-enology are beginning to have an impact in the West, through such Christian authors as Dietrich von Hilder-brand, Hubert Dom, Adrian Van Kaam, Gabriel Marcel, and Simone Weil. The existential and direct approach to God, although it is found in the prayers of the liturgies of the West, has always been a more living part of the consciousness of the Russian. The best aspects of tradi-tional Russian spirituality would not be interested in a rationalism or nominalism which would tend to separate love from human physical experience. But the worst in Russian Marxism might attempt to separate love from the physical world. Even as the human body can be seen as the outward expression of the inner soul, so also can icons, images, and incense be seen as an expression of the Church's inner spirituality. Thus the Russian prays with a pro-found sense of reverence; he seems to have a deep sense of ritual. In the Orthodox religion there is no Western-like sepa-ration between the liturgy and private prayer; no such Cartesian-like distinctions are made. This ancient Eastern tradition is similar to a relatively new trend in the West-ern liturgical movement which stresses the use of public liturgical prayers for private prayer. The scholarly jour-nal, Worship, has long stressed the value of liturgical meditations. We are not always conscious of the fact that much of our Western liturgy is an existential prayer, existential because it addresses God in the "here-and-now." For. Orthodox Christians there are no logical dis-tinctions between private and public prayer, just as for them there are no class or caste distinctions between monks and laymen. Husbands and wives, monks and nuns, all follow the same traditional and existential way of prayer. Love, not rules, is the focal point. Orthodox Christians do not feel that reading the Bible reflectively is a prayer, though they do not deny its value. Reflective reading often is predominantly a cognitive process unless the words are related to the feelings, fanta-sies, and senses of the "heart." Orthodox Christians re-gard their prayer as more of a total personal relationship to God, by praying "with the mind in the heart." At the risk of imposing Western categories on Ortho-dox spirituality, one might distinguish three forms of Orthodox prayer. First, bodily prayer which uses the pos-ture and the senses of the body. For example, one might bend his head so that his eyes can look at the place of the heart; he may try to become aware of his breathing in order to use its natural rhythm as an aid to concentration as he prays to God. Secondly, mental prayer in which the mind holds the "Word" in inward prayer, so that con-sciousness is expanded; thus one tries to center one's whole being on the "Word of God." And thirdly, there is the Prayer of the Heart. This last form of prayer is for Eastern Christians the highest form of prayer because in this way of praying the mind descends to the heart as it stands before God. The Orthodox feel that it is essential that the mind descend into the feelings and images of the heart during prayer although they realize that the heart, without the attention of the intellect, is blind. As St. Makarios of Egypt (4th century) said: "Descend into thy heart and there do battle with Satan." Thus the mind of the person descends into his heart to view his feelings, fantasies, and sensual experiences in order to choose those which are truly good and oppose those which are not. This process is different from that advocated by some western writers like Tanquerey. This process also pre-supposes a deep psychological openness to oneself, a non-defensive consciousness. Unlike many Westerners, the Eastern Christian does not try to use his intellectual constructs to keep the mind from the heart. Rather, he worships God with his heart and feelings which are, hope-fully, known by his mind. Thus the body and the inter-nal senses play a positive role in prayer, as it can in higher forms of Yoga. The conscious use of the body, as in dancing, could play a more important role in prayer and in the liturgy of the West. The purpose of the Jesus Prayer is to fill one's whole consciousness with the name of Jesus, just as St. Francis of Assisi spent a whole night in prayer rqpeating ever more deeply the Lord's name. Ideally, the head and the heart are thus united; conscious unity in the person is the goal of some modern psychologists and theologians. For example, the psychologist Carl Rogers describes the ide-ally "fully functioning person" as one who knows, exis-tentially, what his "heart" (or organism) is saying, and he can talk about his inner experience if he chooses to do so. The theologian, John S. Dunne, in his A Search [or God Prayer of the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 823 ~. O. Mean~ and St. Mar]orie~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in Tim.~ and Memory also stresses the value of a unity of thought, feeling a.nd action in the person, " ' .~ Through the centuries physical~ "exercise~ ~ind disci-plines such as fasting have been used to affect one's sciousness. In prayer, exercises and inner discipli.nes can" be used. to concentrate, one's being on the n.ame of. Jesus. But. one great danger in "prayer" is that words, or thoughts can be compulsively repeated, being motivated by unconscibus inner conflicts;, thus "prayer" could, be used defensively to avoid an inner growth of. conscious-ness and love. As in some forms of Yoga, the Jesus Prayer can be associated with the natural rhythm of breathing. Thus, this Hesychast"method of prayer uses the natural, not [orced rhythm of breathing or the .heartbeat to aid total intellectual and emotional conceritration on the name of Jesus; just.as a Westerner might use the beads of'a rosary ti~ c0ncefitrate on a mystery. By using his breathing to concentrate on the name of Jesus, the person may thus bring prayer more deeply into his ~hole being. Sponta-neous and relaxed breathing is used to bring one's atten-tion repeatedly back to the name of Jesus, which is then psychologically associated with the breath (and life) of the person. It is important to realize that these physical exercises are regarded as an aid to, not~ an obligation of, prhy'er. The Orthodox know well that there can be no physical or mechanical means of acquiring grace. No bod' ily nor physical techniques can be an automatic method of obtaining grace. Furthermore, they do not recommend the use of this form of prayer without proper guidance, or Spiritual direction, because it can cause sexual arousal, or it could possibly damage the lungs or body, if forced o~ used incorrectly. Associating one's prayers with the natural easy flow of one's breathing, however, is'a way of aiding the mind to descend into the body and the heart,' in an attempt to offer lovingly to God one's whole being (emotions, will, and attention) in the name of Jesus. Some practical applications of processes similar to this way of prayer are described in J. M. Dechanet's Christian Yoga. This book is one example of a modern application of "ancient wisdom to prayer. He includes a discussion of practical techniques for the "Prayer of the Heart." "On the Three Methods of Attention and Prayer"'is a treatise often attributed to St. Simon the New Theolo-gian. It makes clear that .there are three ways of prayer. The first way of prayer, used by an emotional person, would stress primarily the feeling approach to God with-out much stress on reason. A second ,,~ay of,prayer would stress the intellectual approach with thoughts-fighting-. thoughts because that person is relatively unaware of his emotions. The third and preferable way is an integration which would have the mind consciously descend into the heart so that the person takes a conscious position toward his own internal emotions and fantasies in order to love God with his whole mind, his whole heart, and his whole soul In recent years many young Americans--like Franny in Salinger's Franny and Zooey---have come to know some-thing of the Jesus Prayer, although it may easily be mis-interpreted as a mechanical spirituality. Its appeal for modern people may be due to several factors: its Christo-centric theme, its Scriptural base, its simplicity. Many may find in this way of prayer a human expression of their adoration and love of God. Others may find in its rhythmic breathing a meaningful way of "physically ex-pressing" their spirit. So, like Yoga, Zen, and other modes of Eastern spirituality, Orthodoxy may offer to the West another approach to prayer, perhaps another way of help-ing us to find our way back to the Christian Spirit. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY AND SOURCES Arseniev, Nicolas. Russian Piety. London: Faith Press, 1964. Balthasar, Hans Urs von. Prayer. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961. Berdiaev, Nicolas. The Russian Idea. New York: Macmillan, 1948. Chariton of Valamo, Igumen. The Art of Prayer. London: Faber and Faber, 1966. Dechanet, Jean Marie. Christian Yoga. New York: Harper and Row, 1960. Delmage, L. Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius. New York: Wagner, 1968. Diahonia, a journal edited by George Maloney, S.J. New York: Fordham University. Dunne, John S. A Search for God in Time and Memory. Toronto: Macmillan, 1969. Fedotov, George P. A Treasury of Russian Spirituality. London: Sheed and Ward, 1952. Hausherr, Iren~e. "La m~thode d'oraison h~sychaste," Orien-talia christiana, 1927. Loyola, Ignatius de. The Autobiography of St. Ignatius. New York: Benziger, 1900. Johnston, S.J., William. "Dialogue with Zen," Concilium, November 1969. Jung, Carl G. The Collected Worhs of Carl Jung, volumes 5 and 9. Princeton: Princeton University, 1968. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Early Fathers from the Philokalia. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart. London: Faber and Faber, 1951. Mason, R.ussell E. Internal Perceptions and Bodily Function-ing. New York: International Universities Press, 1961. Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain. Unseen Warfare. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Philips, Dewi Z. The Concept of Prayer. New York: Schocken, 1966. Prayer " o] the Heart VOLUME 2% 1970 825 Richardson, A. Mental Imagery. New York: Springer, 1969. Sofrony, Archimandrite. The Undistorted Image. London: Faith Press, 1958. Stolz, Karl R. The Psychology of Prayer. New York: Abingdon, 1923. Ware, Timothy. The Orthodox Church. Baltimore: Pelican, 1964. .~. O. Meany and St. Mar]orle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JONATHAN FOSTER, O.F.M. Some Notes on Hostility and Fidelity: The Religious Presence One of the most masterful and insightful commentaries on human aggression dates from the years immediately following World War I--Edna St. Vincent Millay's poign-ant little play, Aria da Capo. In the work's "play within a play," two friendly and unsophisticated shepherds under the direction of a stern stage manager set out to play a game in which they innocently build a wall between them and say "that over there belongs to me and over here to you." The game soon becomes deadly serious, however, and their friendship quickly deteriorates into suspicion and mistrust. At one point in the game, Thyrsis has a moment of sanity and beseeches Corydon.: "It is an ugly game. I hated it from the first. How did it start?" To which Corydon replies: "I do not know . I do not know. I think I am afraid of you! You are a strangerl I never set eyes on you before." Their fearful insight into the tragedy of their situation does not hinder them, how-ever, from plunging head-long into the "game" which ends in their mutual killing of each other for what the other has. The essence of the tragedy of human existence there-fore, as seen by Miss Millay, is the deterioration of trust. When man do not deliberately break trust with each other, society can be sweet and peaceful, as the shepherds in the play experienced it. For in the beginning, before the "game," they agreed in simple joy to "make a song about a lamb that thought himself a shepherd." But when .the wall goes up--and in the play it is only a streamer of tissue paper that Corydon cannot even find when he staggers toward his dead friend in his death agony--ignorance and misunderstanding build large, + + 4. Jonathan Foster is a member of St. Joseph's Franciscan Seminary; P.O. Box 449; Oak Brook; Il-linois 60521. VOLUME 29, 1970 827. ]. Foster,~ O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 828 tricksome images that cast dark and suspicious shadows over the land. And it is when we encounter these suspi-cious shadows that:we begin to experience hostility, and too frequeritly this hostility bristles into violence. I would like to suggest here that the situation dramati-cally Conceived in Aria da Capo is .r~pidly coming to characterize the whole of American society and that the current easy attitude toward vows in religious life is con-tributing to this situation. ¯ There is an unease in the land, an .unease that increas-ingly expresses itself in polarized movements, bristles with hostility for its counterparts, and, with a regularity t.ha.t is ~c~asing to. ast.onish; b.reaks out into violence. The reason for this is hardly a simple onE;°but one of the most important factors, I believe, is the demise of trust under-lined by Miss Millay. It has long been known that violence, especially as carried out by children, is the mindless response to a betrayal of trust by those who should above all have been trustworthy--parents, brothers, sisters, friends. Most psy-chotic violence among grown-ups too is explainable in terms of betrayal and subsequent alienation. It is.not too much to suggest that the unease drifting through our country, the. increasing prickle of hostility, the growing threat of mass violence is largely a projection on a na-tional scale of this same betrayal o~ trust. There certainly has been such a betrayal in our public institutions. Our government and political leaders have been. found to be insincere so often and so damagingly that they, have generated powerful counter-political movements based on an-idealism that seeks to actually do that which government and presen( politics only profess tostand for. Business and labor time and.time again have been found out to be playing dirty games behind the bright chintz of public relations, advertising; and noble sentiments. The curtains have been jerked back a few times too often on all levels of education, to reveal admin-istrators and teachers .with their thumbs stuck in a few unsuspected pies. Even the hallowed judicial system has been seen to be as petty and partial as ward-heeling poli-ticians. Bishops and religious leaders with almost monot-onous regularity put on masks in the same dressing rooms with government,, and more and more of their subjects are sbe, ing under the make-up. ¯ Perhaps all this insincerity is not as new as it seems. But what is certainly new is the great number of people who know: about it. Mass journalism and historical schol-arship have had much to do with this public breast-bar-ing, "telling, it like it is," debunking and stripping down even ou~ heroes. And so, I suggest, the great question that expresses the malaise of. our society is: "Who ;can you trhst?" Th~ cynical crack is mor~ and more the language of the land. More and more like-minded'groups, search-ing for trust, turn within and band together. The result is fraCtionalization, polarization, hostility, violence. "I do not know you" becomes "I do not trust you." But this is hardly the whole story. As if it were not engugh that the public institutions of our, society are found not to wash under their public robes, we are facing now the deterioration of trust in the private institutions of our society. Personal rel~itionships 'of all kinds ,have B~en affected by the erosion of trust. The vows of mar-riage, "till death do us part,"'ard taken with increasingly l~gs seriousness. In the steady-dating relationship, too, boys and girls enter into quasi-matrimonial and even Sex-ual relationships, the basis of which is not ~rust, but usefulness ~ind convenience. But where this relationship is easi!y deceived into thinking itself meaningful, the no-torious "Playboy" relationship cynically strips away all pretense and encourages partners to enter the most trust-oriented of all relationships with the most callow mo-tives. And the infamous generation gap is not created just by misttnderstanding. It is created as much by the parents using this deepest and most responsibility-bearing rela-tionship as a means for their own advancement. Finally, there are religious vows. In the past history of religious life, the value of the vow for. society was preemi-nent. Today what is becoming of supreme value is the relevance of the vo;v for the individual religious. And if the taking of the vow, or the keeping of it even for a specified time much less for life, is similarly restricting, then it is not taken, or it is broken in view of some other commitment. The priority of the individual in the reli-gious taking of vows has become paramount in our day. What we are failing to understand at this point in the pendulum swing of religious commitment is that reli-gious life is perhaps the last social institution in which fidelity and trust are basic and honored, and that this perhaps says something about the witness of religious life in contemporary society. The absolute centrality of promises to the preservat~ion of the quality of human existence has been strongly stressed b);' various authors, bi~t none has made the case more' strongly than the philosopher, Hannah Arendt; In her book, The Human Condition, Miss Arendt pinpoints two factors essential to the preservation of~ life from chaos. The first is forgiveness, or the undoing of mistakes of the past. The second is the faculty to make and keep promises. The first obviously deals with the past. The second concerns the future. The ability to make promises and keep them builds on the reality.of forgiveness, and Mi~s Arendt always keeps the two together. But for our VOLUME 29; "1970 ' "" 829 ]. Foster, O.F.~I. ~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 830 purposes here, we must look especially close at what she says about promise. The making of promises is an expression of one of the most ancient needs of man. In fact the two great institu-tions of western society were built on promises. The Jew-ish- Christian religion grew out of the covenants of Abra-ham with God. And the Roman empire built a legal system on the inviolability of agreements and treaties. This is not surprising. For man's experience of himself in history has revealed a twofold "darkness." The first is his inability to rely on or have complete faith in himself: The second is the unpredictability of human events. And so man, both to insure his own survival and to make his society an increasingly hospitable one, from the very be-ginning has gone out to his fellowman in promise and covenant. He has come to rely on and count on his fel-lows. Promise is what holds society together and staves off barbarity, barbarity both in the forms of totalitarian domination and in the unstructured freedom of anarchy. Although Miss Arendt's primary purpose in treating the faculty of promise is to show that it lies at the very foundation of society, she does not ignore its value for the growth of the individual, which she sees in the con-text of the preservation of one's integrity: Without being bound in the fulfilment of promises, we would never be able to keep our identities; we would be con-demned to wander helplessly and without direction in the darkness of each man's lonely heart, caught in its contradic-tions and equivocalities--a darkness which only the light shed over the public realm through the presence of others, who con-firm the identity between the one who promises and the one who. fulfils can dispel" (The Human Condition, Doubleday Anchor Books, p. 21B). Promise combines with forgiveness, as Miss Arendt sees it, to form the basis of morality. For "these moral pre-cepts [forgiveness and promise] arise . directly out of the will to live together with others., and thus they are like control mechanisms built into the very faculty to start new and unending processes" (p. 221). It is here also that she stresses the creative and life-sustaining force of forgiveness and promise. For if we could not forgive mis-takes and if we could not re-establish firm bonds through promise, then society would be trapped by the "law of mortality" and would steadily wind itself down to death. Forgiveness and promise together make newness con-stantly possible. And as such they are the foundations for the Christian view of life--faith and hope: faith that is fidelity to the convenant, and hope that is created both in this fidelity and in forgiveness. What is important, I think, about Miss Arendt's com-ments is that they place the taking and keeping of vows not in the context of what it can do for the individual but rather of how the taking of vows enters into the very bloodstream of human society. She speaks eloquently of promise as confronting the "darkness" of human exist-ence, of staving off "ruin and destruction," of the "mira-cle that saves the world." She also cites Nietzsche's com-ment that promise is the very distinction which marks off human from animal life. It is precisely to this larger context therefore that we must shift some of our discus-sion of religious vows. Far from being an anachronistic kind of slavery exercised by religious orders to maintain their survival, religious vows must be seen, in Miss Arendt's perspective, as an expression of man's striving not only for survival, but for dignity as well. To further emphasize this perspective, we must focus very precisely on the kind of promises religious make. It is not a promise to complete the transaction of a deal, to run a hospital, to cook forever, or just to do anything. It is a promise to be, and as such a deep commitment and trust. We can forgive someone who does not keep a prom-ise to do something, and we can perhaps survive in a society in which this failure to deliver is relatively fre-quent. But how much can we tolerate of a society that ¯ does not keep its promises to be? When people make great commitments of personal loyalty and then opt out in large numbers, what effect, we must ask, does this have on society at large? And when they go a step further, frequently in justification, and refuse promise at all, or make expressions of loyalty that are weak, decidedly ter-minal and often vague and open-ended, what, we must fnrther ask, effect does this have on society? Does it weaken the ties between men? Is this abandonment of covenant intensifying in a' way that has not occurred to us at all the increasing lack of trust and rising hostility in our society? Does it raise again on a new front, and per-haps the last one, the question: "~¥ho can you connt on?" I suggest that religious have a serious responsibility to raise these issues. They are perhaps the last people in the world in which the free offering of total loyalty has been taken for granted as a matter of policy. Because of this professed commitment, they have been witnessing some-thing to the world, namely, that it is possible to be loyal and trustworthy on a grand scale. They have advanced the ideals of mankind a great milestone. And now sud-denly they have reversed this witness, first in practice, now in theory. The anger and resentment, shock and frustration of many people over the vast exodus from vows, now settling into a flat cynicism, comes as no sur-prise. Religious cannot simply dismiss this anger and cy-nicism with the comment: "They'll get used to it." This may very well be the tragedy we can least afford~that men should get used to it. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 831 ¯ Perhaps then if there is any validity tO these questions another dimension must be added to the mission of reli-gious today. If, as Miss Arendt suggests, the power of making and keeping promises is our bulwark against chaos or repression, if, as Nietszche asserts, fidelity is what distinguishes us from animals, then the question of vows is not merel.y a question of the internal life of a particu-lar community or of individual religious. It is joined to the very issue of human survival. My suggestion, then, is that as religious weigh' the relevance of taking of not taking vows, of their leaving or dissolution, to the per-sonal fulfilment of the individual religious, they also seri-ously discuss again the impact this same taking or aban-doning of vows has for society at large. The problems of the individual religious in an institute that he or she feels is inhibiting or irrelevant or itself unfaithful to its own profession are real eno.ugh to us. They have preoccupied religious for the past several years. But what about this same religious in relationship to a world in which indi-viduals and groups are drifting further and further apart 'because of the decay of trust and faithfulness? Do not religious perhaps have a mission here too? Today most religious orders, in their renewal, are concerned about "going out to the ~orld," trying to be relevant. It would be most ironic, not to say tragic, if what the world most needs, trust and loyalty, were precisely what religious are s'o busily unpacking and heaving overboard. ]. Foster,~O~F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 832 KATHRYN LINDEMANN, O.P. Toward a Definition of "Communi " The problem. During the past few years there has been much debate among American religious concerning "community." "What is community?" and "What do you mean by community?" are two frequently heard ques-tions. This article does not attempt to totally resolve these questions since any further "total solutions" would only add to the present confusion. This paper does attempt to disentangle the discussion and to introduce clarifications which, will make resolu-tion possibl~. To this end it begins with a consideration of the present state of the issue. Then there is a non-po-lemic exposition of the meaning of "community" as found in current literature. Finally there is an indication of some still unanswered questions concerning "commun-ity" which seem important for continued progress toward a clear definition of "community." ¯ .4 first inquiry and a prol~ered solution. The fact that American religious are asking about "community" seems to indicate that they are aware of confusion and are seek-ing to remedy it. Confronted by this confusion, a normal query is: Why such a difficulty concerning "community"? One proffered solution has been to postulate something about the word itself~some attribute which defies defini-tion. "Community," like patriotism, becomes a Wittgen-steinian "slogan word" which is too ambiguous for defini-tion. Such a proposal is both logically unsound and a breeder of irrationality. If one analyzes it, one finds: 1. It accepts the generalization: "If x is a slogan word, then x precludes definition." 2. The postulation is then argued: since the definition of 'community' engenders much confusion, "com-munity" must be a slogan word. Since slogan words are indefinable, then "community" must be indefin-able. This is viciously circular. It assumes what it claims to ÷ Kathryn Linde-mann, O.P., lives at Mr. St. Mary Col-lege' in .,Newburgh, N.Y. 12550. VOLUME',29, '1970 . ~ ÷ ÷ Kathryn Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 834 prove. The statement of the generalization only acts as camouflage. If one wants to conclude that a slogan word is not definable, one cannot assume it is a slogan word because it is indefinable. In the practical order, the proposal leads to subjectiv: ism and a canonization of irrationality. If "community" is indefinable, then there is no procedure for discussing: what it is; what engenders it; what destroys it. Two indi-viduals have no way of ascertaining if they use the term with the same meaning. They are condemned to unknow-ing or subjectivism. Since rationality depends on com-monness, no rational procedures of discussion or decision are possible. Thus all those groups of American religious now committed to the conscious renewal of community can have no use for rationality in their endeavors. At best, community renewal needs to be relegated to some irrational force. A second proposal. The above is not the only possible explanation for the confusion concerning "community." There is also an explanatory avenue opened by the no-tion of the theory laden texture of terms. In Patterns of Discovery, Norman l~ussell Hanson explores the relation between theory and particular observations, facts, and terms. He contends that scientific observation, fact, and meaning are only possible within the context of a theory. Further, he holds that each of these three are theory determined. Thus, two men experiencing the same sense data of orange color patch moving upward through an orange tinted visual field at 6:50 a.m. Eastern Standard Time in Newburgh, New York, might observe two dif-ferent things. One operating in a Ptolemaic framework observes the sun rising. The other operating in a Coper-nican framework observes the earth turning. If each spoke of the "morning event," "morning event" would have, in a certain sense, a different meaning for each.1 Hanson often cites such theory determination of termi-nological meaning: If, in the blank pages of a next year's diary, we find the word 'fire' in the place reserved for St. Valentine's day, no action would suggest itself. Consider another man shouting 'Fire'; but now he is in uniform, hovering over a busy gun crew. Were we members of that crew, our response would be automatic . In other contexts 'fire' might herald a worker's dismissal, or the entrance of a Wagnerian soprano amid pyro-technics. It can signal a phase in the making of pottery, de-scribe how an actress reads her part, or designate some primi-tive rite . 'Fire' has, in each situation, a propositional force; it is shorthand for complex statements whose nature is clear from the contexts of utterance. We are not born able to recog-nize such contexts., for that we need education.2 X Norman Russell Hanson, Patterns o] Discovery (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1965), pp. 7-8. 2 Ibid., p. 63. And again: When the youngster says 'lightning and thunder' he prob-ably means 'flash and rumble.' Again, a lot may follow, but what follows for him is different from what follows for the meteorologist--for whom 'lightning and thunder' probably means 'electrical discharge and aerial disturbance.' 8 ~lpplication to the question of community. In order to see the relation of this theory laden texture of terms to the present confusion among American religious, one needs to know something of the recent intellectual his-tory of religious groups. Since 1949 there has been what Thomas Kuhn would call a "paradigm shift" in religious life.4 Any comparative study of congregational constitu-tions of 1949 and 1969, of the 1949 and 1969 issues of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, or of books dealing with the theory of religious life from that span of years, gives multitudinous evidence of this paradigm change. In this paradigm shift, the term "community" is one which has been strongly affected. It has moved from a peripheral to a central position and has acquired a new extension. This change in "community" cannot be considered in isolation from the total theory of religious life. The change in meaning actually occurred as a result of changes in other areas of the theoretic system. A change of perception concerning certain areas made for new ways of seeing many other areas. And as the whole theory changed, each specific term was affected. Having noted the theory-laden-texture of terms and the fact of paradigm change in religious life, one can now locate reasons for the present confusion concerning "com-munity." These reasons are embedded in two specific fea-tures of the theoretical change among American religious. First, the change has not been a single-stroke event. Sec-ond, the "new theory~' has not yet reached stasis. First, the change in the religious life paradigm has not been a single stroke event. It is a process event whose history can be mapped. See Figure I. Given Theory A (the paradigm at n) and the innovations (I . I5), one finds a transformation in theory during stages n+l. n+5. The first outlines of Theory B become evident at stage n+5. Most often, one thinks of the theory only at stage n (theory A) or stage n+5 (theory B) since at these stages the theory is in stasis. These two stages represent "para-digms" as Kuhn refers to them and the change from paradigm A to parad@n B is a "revolution" in the Kuhnian sense. It is a fact, however, and one at which ~ Ibid., p. 61. 'Thomas Kuhn, The Structure o] Scientific Revolutions (Chi-cago: University of Chicago, 1962), pp. 43ff. ÷ ÷ + "Community" VOLUME 29, :970 835 Theory elements oO OoOo oo\o o\ o o -o n n-'l-1 n÷2 n+3 n÷4 n-~-5 Figure ] 4. 4. 4- Kathryn Linde. mann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Kuhn hints several times, that the intermediary stages exist.5 Now, as is normal in the innovation and diffusion o[ ideas, all members o[ religious congregations do not ac-cept theoretic innovation or revision at the same rate.e Since the acceptance of theoretical innovations is not simultaneous and universal, different individuals within the total population o[ religious may be in different ~tages of theory revision at any given time (n+l. n+5). Since terms are theory determined, such members, being at different theoretic stages, mean different things by " com~munity." Since the dynamics of any change are seldom pondered at the same time as the change is occurring, given reli-gious are usually unaware of the specific theoretic stage they are in. Further, they may not realize that theirs is one stage in a process continuing toward a new paradigm and stasis.7 Thus, one has the situation in which individ-uals will notice that there .are apparent differences in meaning concerning "community" (or a number of other ~ Ibid., pp. 84-7, 89, 128-9. e Everett M. Rogers, Diffusion of Innovations (New York: Free Press, 1968). ~Note, for example, the many expressions of conviction among religious that there will never again be a stasis in religious life or theory. terms such as prayer, apostolate, or common life) but will be at a loss to either: articulate the differences with any precision, or to explain the differences through an enun-ciation of the theory which determines their meanings. This is a major source of the confitsion concerning "com-munity" at the present time. . Second, it is not until a theory approaches stasis that all the relations among particular elements are enunci-ated with any precision. To the extent that this precision is absent, there is an inescapable vagueness about any term endemic to the theory. Most congregations have enunciated the major outlines of the new paradigm in their constitutions. Yet all refer to their constitutional documents as interim or experi-mental, and all expect to produce a more finished prod-uct in a few years. Congregations have built in a time span for working out the practical and theoretic interre-lations among various elements,s The new paradigm is not yet articulated with full precision, and so a certain vagueness concerning a key term such as "community" is inescapable. Until this full precision is reached, a certain confusion will remain in the meaning and use of "com-munity." Summary. The theory laden texture of terms proposal succeeds in answering the first query concerning the why of the present confusion about "community," whereas the indefinability proposal did not. This theory laden texture notion indicates a double source of confusion: the simul-taneous operation of multiple versions of theories within the groups and the lack of precision in the newest theory because it has not yet reached stasis. Having dealt with the first query, the study needs to move on to the next: "How is 'community' defined in the new paradigm among religious?" ~ What Is "Community"? Method. To avoid arguing some of the philosophical issues attendant upon "meaning," "definition," or "expli-cation" this paper will approach the problem a poste-riori. There will be an examination of the literature for religious to see what meaning is already established in relation to "community." From this information, there will be an attempt at precise definition or explication. The two paradigms. The general accounts of "com- S As established in Ecclesiae sanctae, au apostolic letter issued on August 6, 1966, by Pope Paul VI (reprinted iu REVIEW FOR REL~CIoUS, V. 25 (1966), pp. 939--70. ~The meaning of "community" in the old paradigm has re-ceived adequate treatment by sociologists, historians, and theo-logians. The elements of the new paradigm, however, have seldo~n been subject to collection and analysis. ÷ ÷ ÷ "Community" VOLUME 29, 1970 - 837 + ÷ ÷ Kath~ Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS munity" diverge gr~eatly between the old (1949) and the new (1969) paradigms of religious life. Since a contrast often helps specify a complicated term, a general account of "community" as it appears in each of these basic theo-ries is presented first. When one studies old constitutions, those in effect in the forties and fifties, one finds: 1. The term "community" is rarely used. 2. When it is used it is capitalized as a proper noun-- denoting a particular (person, place or thing). 3. It seems to have a non-personal, "thing-like" quality common to collective nouns used in the "otherness" of the third person. 4. Sometimes the word designates a local group, while at other times it refers to an entire group. In the lat-ter instances, one mentally substitutes the word, "Congregation" or "Institute," both of which occur far more frequently in these early documents. Point four seems to strike the terminological core, for the meaning of "community" is primarily that of a hier-archical organization. Almost every sentence utilizing the Word "community" would retain its meaning if "organi-zation" were substituted. Further, the literary structure of these constitutions of the forties and fifties seems domi-nated by the organizational model. They set out goals; they cite organizational procedures for attaining the goals; and they define each person in terms of her role in the organization. They state the duties of the role (posi-tion in the organization), the prerequisites for possessing this role (be it that of an ordinary member or an officer), and the privileges of the role. The documents join a second model to that of hierar-chical organization. There is an interpersonal ideal of a familial society which is most compatible with that of a hierarcical organizational model. Officers are compared to parent figures. As such they ought to give and receive love and concern in a way which officers of an organiza-tion usually do not. Thus, in a unified model of hierar-chical- organization-family one provides an ideal for the lived situation of religious life. Newer constitutions, those of the sixties, present dif-ferent features: 1. "Community" is a common word; it appears time after time. 2. In most documents there is a definite distinction between community-as-organization and communi-ty- as-people. 3. Most, at least implicitly, deny "community" of the hierarchical organization model. "Community" de-notes, a primary group with strong interpersonal ties. This interpersonal notion is often extended to the congregation-as-community or the larger, civic, community. Although texts vary, the following is typical: Religious life is a loving community of free consecrated persons, sharing their lives, their worship, their service and their celibacy. A distinctive mark of the religious life is to be found in the fact that this living of Christ's life, this witnessing to His values, is lived corporately?° The function of a religious community is twofold. The first is to provide the climate for its members to grow to full stature as free persons in an ever deepening union with Christ, and for the sake of His Kingdom to be available to serve individually and corporately the needs of men. The second is to present a threefold witness in the eyes of the persons it serves: a living witness to Christ and His values, a sacrament of Christ's continued presence among men, and a sign of hope that community, which is the only mode of existence proper to men, can be a reality?1 When one looks for a model to explain this use of "community," one tends toward the community of scholars or St. Paul's my.stical body model. Religious community is the union of equals through interpersonal relationships. Each individual gives some service to the group: the serv-ice of authority, of information, of support, and so forth. Further the community itself is situated in relation to other communities. Religious community is always seen as a microcosm of the larger community of the Church and as such the religious community has an intimate re-lation to the People of God (Church) and the world com-munity.~ 2 Distinction. in terminology. Hence forward this paper will speak of the general account of community as found in the 1949 paradigm as "community1" and that in the 1969 paradigm as "community2". At present few religious make such an explicit distinc-tion. A single term, "community," is used for both mean-ings, although some religious are beginning to say that although both are called "community" only the 1969 paradigm expresses real community. Toward a Definition of "Community2" The term. In analyzing the common use of "community,;', one finds a distinction clearly made be-tween "having community2" and "being a community,". The latter is a wider term which necessarily includes the former. 10Sisters of the Third Order of St. Dominic of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, Religious Lile: Lived Reality (Grand Rapids, Michigan: 1969), p. 4. n Ibid., p. 10. ~ Yves M. J. Congar, o.P., "The Theology of Religious Women," REv~w for RELIGIOUS, V. 19 (1960), p. 26. ÷ ÷ ÷ " ommunity" VOLUME 29, 1970 859 ÷ + + Kathryn Linde. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Having community,". The instances in which the term "having community2" is clearly applied reveal three nec-essary elements: a group of persons, united in sharing "goods," and either a resulting witness to Christian values or personal growth of some members. First, intuitions may indicate the last (witness or growth) as non-necessary, but when one discusses specific examples with members of religious congregations, one finds a hesitancy to apply "community2" to anything lack-ing a result in witness or personal growth. Confronted by an example exhibiting the first two characteristics of (1) a group and (2) sharing goods, which lacks, however, the third characteristic of witness or growth, members tend to say: "Maybe the witness or growth was really there but you didn't notice it"; or: "If there was no witness or growth you only thought you had community, but you really didn't." Hence this third characteristic is included as a necessary element for "having community2",is In pressing for precision, one finds that each of these characteristics is a term with its own range or extension: I. group of persons--extends to all persons united in groups, ranging from the smallest group of three to the largdst number so designatable. 2. sharing goods--extends to all goods, both internal and external, which can be shared by humans. In the context of "having community2" at least one internal good must be present, but any number of additional internal or external goods may be present also. 3. witness or personal growth extends to (1) all witness to Christian values and (2) all growth in personal maturity. "Having community2" is the term applied to the event which occurs when all three of these characteristics inter-sect. More formally. One may say that "x has community," if and only if: x is a group of persons; and there exists at least one y such that y is an internal good and x shares y; and either x gives witness to Christian values, or there is at least one z such that z is a member of the group's union in sharing and z grows in maturity as a result of this mem-bership. "Being a community2". When one examines the use of "being a community2" by religious, several crucial cases reveal themselves: 1. If a group "has community.o" frequently for several 18One is struck by the difficulty of making empirical observa-tions of personal growth or witness to othe,~. Yet this is how the term is used by religious. This study proposes to describe, to cite extension of terms, not to evaluate them as "true to reality," "false to reality," and so forth. weeks but then illness or work prohibits this "hav-ing community2" for awhile, no one denies the .group still is a community. All consider the non-hav-ang of community as a temporary condition which does not destroy the being-a-communi.ty of the group. On the othei: hand, all agree that an absence of "having community2" continued for a long enough period, would negate the gr9up's being a community. 2. If a group lives together for some time but shares little more than their domicile, no one designates them as "being a community2". 3. Groups experiencing two or three instances of in-tense "having-community2" are assigned a status of "being a community2" equivalent to other groups which have eight or nine experiences of community on a much lower level of intensity. To preserve these designations of being a community, this researcher proposes a function, C: frequency of having community X intensity of having communityt4 the total duration (or proposed duration) of the group All items having a C result of at least 0.3 are described as "being a community2". They fall in the extension of the tenn. Thus one can replace the externally vague term "being a community2" with the clearly defined one of "any x, where x is an item having a C function of at least 0.3." Some criticisms o[ the above analysis. There is much lacking in this whole analysis. This lack extends both to the theological and to the empirical dimensions of the discussion. First, theological aspects, for example, the cen-trality of Christ in community, are not explored in this rather philosophical approach. Yet these aspects are most important parts of the notion of community. Second, em-pirical aspects are incomplete. The method of finding the intensity of community noted in footnote 14 is inade-quate. Also, there have been no empirical studies to jus-tify, for example, the choice of 0.3 as the limit for "being a community2". Indeed, there is a lack of precise data for much of this discussion. The Task Remaining ÷+ American religious need to continue to explore this + notion of "community." They need to listen carefully to 1, The intensity of community is a function obtained by assign-ing positive integers to the elements contained in the range of each characteristic necessary for "having community.". The product of these integers indicates the level of intensity of "having com-munity.'. VOLUME 29, 1970 841 what others are saying about community and to note exactly where their statements agree and where they dif-fer. And when they find that they differ, religious need to be willing to continue the discussion. They need to find the reason for the differences. Sometimes it will be a false difference caused by incomplete communication of mean-ing. in other cases there may be a real difference. When religious reach the point of finding the exact differences, they are then keady to begin the honest dialogue common to every discipline which is alive and healthy. Out of such dialogue can come a truer understanding of '~com-munity" and perhaps a revitalization of their communal living. Perhaps, too, such dialogue will result in the reali-zation that although "community1" and "community2" have appeared as opposing theories, they are not antitheti-cal notions. They describe two different aspects of the same phenomenon. The above is an ambitious plan for religious. It is also difficult. Yet real analysis, the foe of polemic, is not only difficult it is very necessary. Emotivity makes poor theo-retic justification, and no theory can claim reasoned alle-giance if its advocates are not willing to utilize the pro-cessses of reason. Kathryn Lind¢- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS RICHARD M. McKEON, S.J. Retirement Policy for Religious With an increasing number of people enjoying a longer span of life many religious should be alert to the fact that they too will hit the retiring age before they realize it. Yes, retirement for older religious is finally being recognized formally. To many retirement will come as a shock. They will think that they have reached tlae end of the line and that they will drift rapidly into the hereafter. It is time that all religious orders wake up to this new problem. They must have programs to acquaint their older members with all facets of what retirement means. In this respect a great deal can be learned from the world of industry where programs have been in effect for many years. Later we shall discuss some of these and try to apply their wisdom to our older religious. Superiors who are formulating programs must face this issue squarely. Why should the accumulated experience and developed talent be lost to apostolic endeavors merely because a certain age for retirement is at hand? Here is capital which should be yielding dividends. If older religious are forced to coast along waiting for Ga-briel's horn to summon them to give an account of their stewardship, that accounting will be harder to make. Time has value. Time lost is never regained: "Some secrets of the well-rounded retired life are these: make the most of what you have; wherever you are, go with your whole heart; keep your eye on what's coming up, not on what's slipping by; play your role with comeliness; do not let the minutes rust away" (Bank of Canada Monthly Letter, December 1967). It is presumed after long years in religion one has a true sense of values. Before retirement each one should assess his own possibilities and plan to achieve new goals. Many opportunities will arise to afford an active life within one's mental and physical condition. What do older religious in good health want? They Richard McKeon, S.J., teaches at Le Moyne College; Syr-acuse, N.Y. 13214. VOLUME 29, 1970 8~5 ÷ R. M. McKeon; Sd. REVIEW FOR REI~?IOU~S want to remain active and to do good as long as possible; to utilize their special talents; to receive the same respect they commanded in middle age. Rightfully they expect the functional policies and the traditions of religious life to be practiced in their regard. The older religious must be convinced of being heart-edly in earnest in what he can still do. Discouragement and difficulties will be challenges. He must have a firm resolve to carry on. If he has a reputation for special gifts, rightly may he expect others to approach him. To quote the Talmud: "If you see a man of understanding, get you betimes to him, and let your foot wear out the steps of his door." At least once a year, usually during retreat, he should make an honest appraisal of himself: "How is my health? Have I checked with a doctor? Have I reviewed my work of the past year to see what I have done well? What mistakes .have been made? What are my plans for the coming year? Have I determined to keep my mind alert, to keep feeding my mind by study so as to contribute to my up-to-dateness and the germination of ideas?" Richard Butler, O.P., warns: "Those approaching old age should prepare themselves for the trial ahead by strengthening their faith, patching up the holes in their characters, stiffening their self-reliance, developing new and sustaining interests, discovering orientations of ac-tivity that will endure and will provide some amount of satisfaction for them" (America, November 19, 1966). Good ideas can be picked up from ordinary literature on retirement. For men and women who have been highly educated and employed in apostolic work it would be better to study what is going on in the field of indus-try and business. Special research studies on retirement have been made at the California Institute of Technology, the University of Michigan, and the University of Chicago. The Caltech report suggests "a model program and a variety of ways in which it can be adapted to different company situa-tions." These studies are recommended to religious orders which are preparing programs. A digest of the program at Esso will afford some help-ful suggestions. First, changes in life expectancy are ex-plained. Then it tells how millions in the over 65 age group are non-productive but still consumers. In a word, when a worker retires, he is no longer productive to the country, profitable to the company, and useful to himself. Compulsory retirement is explained together with the benefits offered through social security and pensions. But more accent is placed on the sociological problem--how the retiree can be active, fruitful, and constructive. Esso offers help and counsel to each worker to think through his new situation. The company "feels that retirement is something earned by faithful service, a form of 'graduation' into a new phase of life rather than a 'casting out' process. Re-tirement should be the opportunity for the employee to enjoy the fruits of his labors in freedom, leisure and relaxation as well as an opportunity to serve himself, his family and his community in ways not open to him dur-ing his working career." A year before the set date group discussions are held covering topics such as health, planning for the future, what has been done, and so on. Plenty of appropriate literature is available. Each prospective retiree is pre-sented with a copy of How to Retire and Enjoy It by Ray Giles (McGraw-Hill). The Wall Street Journal frequently publishes articles on how retired executives keep busy, Their prime motiva-tion is not to make money for themselves, but to help others in trouble. Although some go into real estate and others start small businesses, many of the best become consultants as a challenging occupation. They form com-panies to give their specialized skills to small firms which need professional advice. The Mohawk Development Service of Schenectady, New York, has an excellent record of over twenty-five years. It is composed of former General Electric Company executives who have pooled their talent and experience. At Wilmington, Delaware, a similar group of Du Pont managers is engaged in a variety of projects. Charles H. Kellstadt retired as chairman of Sears, Roe-buck in 1962. At 72 in 1970 he is chairman and president of the General Development Corporation, one of Flori-da's largest land companies. He took over when things were in very bad shape. Today the corporation is most prosperous. His goal is to do a $250-million business a year. Religious orders should become a, cquainted with the International Executive Service Corps. Here is a magnifi-cent contribution which American executives are making in helping developing nations to help themselves. Its work should inspire qualified older religious to do some-thing similar to aid the foreign missions. The ISEC is a non-profit organization with headquar-ters in New York. It sends seasoned executives to counsel companies in the poorer lands. There is no salary but travel and living expenses are assured. Within the past five years a total of 1244 projects have been successfully completed in 45 countries. Optimism and the challenge of difficult problems have ÷ ÷ ÷ R. M. McKeon, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 846 given these men a new interest in life. They work with the native managers, not over them. Their know-how is eagerly sought. Using tact and patience they guide local managers to realize their own great potential Helping others to help themselves, who in turn will help thou-sands more, is certainly a high type of social action. Sylvia Porter in her column for December 16, 1969 paid tribute to the IESC and then put the question which might be put to older religious: "Why couldn't the con-cept be brought back home so that men and women in this age bracket work as volunteers in the ghetto and rural poverty areas of our own land?'" Our religious could make a great contribution here. "Life is only exciting when you are contributing in the mainstream." Keeping in mind what retired executives have done, let us make application to religious. First of all, those who have been superiors for a long time are still human. With a fair record of successful management, there is danger that many will regard themselves as indispensable. Every undertaker will contradict this statement. They have bur-ied too many. But to former superiors retirement does come as a shock. In industry it is maintained that compulsory retire-ment is the only way to clear out executive deadwood. Many of us know that it is a very touchy to mention possible retirement to an old superior: "Top manage-ment generally considers the subject as unmentionable as bereavement." Older religious might take a hint from the remark of a wise judge: "Retirement implies at least part of the motive power must originate in the person whose status is to be changed. Children are put to bed---adults retire." They should also remember that once the tension of their past job is over, arteriosclerosis might hit them with a stroke. Older religious should find comfort of mind if they have done their work faithfully in the past. As the time for retirement approaches, there should be no real repug-nance in letting quaIified younger people take over. If those in authority had signaled out men with executive ability and given them opportunity for training, there would be less trouble. Let us be blunt. Formerly, older people were respected, their advice was sought for, younger folk delighted to learn of their experiences. No longer in positions of au-thority, they soon find they are being ignored. Take a retiree who is removed from apostolic action which domi-nated his past life. Now assign him to a house for retirees as has been suggested. His health is still good. His mind is alert. But there is nothing to challenge it. He begins to feel unwanted, morose, and he gradually loses interest in things with which he was formerly associated. In such a state of mind death is bound to come more rapidly. In many universities and colleges religious teachers must retire when they reach the same age as set for lay teachers. Without a proper program they may be placed in isolation, as just noted, with no demand for their services. Edward F. Heenan, S.J., has written that many religious groups "have been increasingly enticed to adopt the bureaucratic business model in an effort to more effectively operationalize their goals." Retirement need not mean the end of the road. It should be accepted as a challenge. It means an awareness of the personal ability of the religious to perform, to continue .productively, and to make older life worth the living for one's self and others. Longfellow has put this Challenge attractively: For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And, as the evening twilight fades away, The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. In the past a religious, like any other active person, got recognition and identity for the work he was doing. He could possess a just pride in his accomplishments. By the same token, when he does special work as a retiree, he should receive due praise. Many religious are truly hum-ble. Nevertheless all men appreciate recognition for any job well done. It does boost morale. On the other hand, there is the problem of rejection. To feel rejected, especially by those with whom one was closely associated, often causes a heavy strain on the nerves. It can easily make an older religious irritable and upset his health. We maintain it is a fatal mistake to put a healthy, older religious in a home for retirees. It will depress him. With nothing to challenge a once busy person he will rapidly decline in health, mental and physical. For example, if a religious has been at a college for the past ten or more years before retirement age, then we hold there is really a moral obligation to keep him as a member of the community as long as his health holds up. Why? Because to separate him from the familiar atmos-phere where he knows his fellow religious and they know him, from his friends on the faculty and from people in the local community would be dreadful in its conse-quences. It is here that he can continue to do more good than elsewhere: "Familiar things and places are priceless as we grow older--make no mistake about that." Dr. Edmund V. Cowdry, Washington University, St. Louis, an authority on gerontology, states: "More impor-tant than any other single factor is the old person's need Retirement VOLUME 29, 1970 for a community of interests. Nature seems to have or-dained that those who abdicate from life socially will soon abdicate from life physically." Where should there be a better community of interests than in the house where the religious has been living for years? Father Heenan remarks: "The closer the community approaches the communal idea of integrating and providing for the needs of every member, the more successful the aging process." A bureaucracy might be more efficient but it would tend to depersonalize and estrange the members. A mature religious should know that leisure for pleas-ure's sake alone will not bring happiness. But there is that approved pleasure which comes from doing good to others, especially the less fortunate. Instead of the deceits of idleness there can be a modified form of asceticism. There can be early rising with sincere attention to reli-gious duties. Planning for and being prudently busy with the needs of others will improve health. Two qualities will help the retirees: "They do enthusiastically .what-ever they are doing, and they get deepdown joy out of very simple things." Accordingly it is very foolish to think that retirement means the cessation of activities and merely a vegetating process. Retirement should be dynamic. One must beware of tyrannical trifles which can enslave. Too much televi-sion with its many insipid programs can mark a mental decline. In the 1955 Governor's Conference on the Aging in New York it was held that "religion is the key to a happy old age because man is essentially a spiritual and social bbing. The aged turn to religion even if they have been lax in their youth." What, then, Of men and women dedicated to God, who now have the time and conveni-ence to make up for past neglect because of distraction in the workingday world? There can be a renewal of spirit-ual life and a practice of reparation to gain grace to face bravely the reality of their new status. Since Vatican Council II changes in training have been made to meet the needs of younger religious. They have been very frank about what they need to be effective in a challenging new world. By the same token, older reli-gious should be outspoken in presenting their needs and claims. That is why at the young age of seventy-three I am writing this defense. R. M. McKeon, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELI{;IOUS 848 SISTER DOROTHY COONS, B.V.M. Life Style Study: Convent Li g This study of the pattern of religious living as it is carried out in the various convents of the Sisters of Char-ity of the Blessed Virgin Mary was undertaken as a part of a series of such studies of modern religious living that have been made in the past five years (see l~vmw for I~LIG~OUS, March 1970). The instrument used was constructed by Sister Cather-ine Leonard with the help of the other members of the Commission on Experimentation and Research, espe-cially Sister Helen Thompson and Sister Mary Kenneth Keller. The latter was responsible for processing the data on the computer. Questions Examined Four major questions gave direction to this study: To what extent do the sisters living in the traditional con-vent life style feel that this is providing them with necessary support in community living? What are the topics of concern in these convents? ¯ To what extent is there satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the life style, and what changes would be desirable in the cases where there is dissatisfaction? What are some of the general characteristics of the local communities in the areas of common liturgical experiences, in living arrangements, and in financial arrangements? Group Studied The questionnaires were sent to approximately 1800 sisters living in 153 convents. Those living in apartments and the patients in Marian Hall were not included. A total of almost 1300 sisters from 151 convents responded. According to the number of years in the congregation, the respondents fell into the following categories: ÷ Sister Dorothy Coom, BN.M., is chairman of [BVM] Commission on Ex-perimentation and Research at Clarke College; Dubuque, Iowa 52001. VOLUME 29, 1970' 849 Years in the Congregstion Number Percent 0-4 23 1.7 6.6 10-19 953 19.6 20-29 231 17.9 30-39 273 21.2 Over 40 415 32.1 $i~t~r D~rothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 850 This distribution is similar to that of the entire congre-gation with the exception of the oldest group who num-ber approximately 42% of the total. To a lesser degree the groups in the 5-10+ years differ from the general distri-bution because it is in these age groups that most of those living in apartments fall. In 49 of the 151 houses 100% of the sisters living there responded; 136 houses sent responses from more than half of the sisters; 15 houses were represented by less than half; and two did not return any of the questionnaires. Support in Community Provided by Convent Life Style Certain items on the questionnaire were included to bring out the general characteristics of "community," es-pecially those which provide mutual support for those living together. These questions and the results for both the congregation as a whole and when subdivided accord-ing to years in the congregation are given in Table I. While there are differences in the percentage responses to the positive questions, on the whole they are clearly above the 50% levels, ranging from 91.3% agreement with "Sisters seem concerned for one another" to 73.9% agreement with "Sisters like to be together" and "Com-munication among the sisters in our house is good." There is a similar picture shown by the disagreement with such negative items as "Money is a source of ten-sion" and "Communi.ty life suffers because the sisters are out doing other things." There is a surprising degree of agreement on the items that reflect a supportive atmos-phere among the various age groups. Figure 1, for exam-ple, shows that there is a high degree of agreement among all age categories on the item, "Communication is good," and that the disagreement is slightly higher among those in the 5-9 and 10-19 year group. There is also a slightly higher rate of disagreement on the part of the sisters in the 5-9 years in the congregation on the item: "Sisters plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," as shown in Figure 2. On the other hand, one of the most significant items, "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," shows fairly uniform agree-ment and disagreement in all age groups. See Figure 3. On a somewhat similar item: "Sisters like to be together," the pattern of responses is different. See Figure 4. + + + % 100 75 50 25 0 [] Agree [] Disagree O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 1. Communication is Eood. % 100 75 5O 25 O, 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 2. Sisters plan to-gether. % lOO 75 50 25 o 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 3. Sisters seem con-cerned for one another. % lOOI 75 5O 25 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 4. Sisters like to be together. + + + Sister Dorothy REVIEW.FOR RELIGIOUS 852 The two items that would ideally be answered by disa-greement, "Money is a source of tension," and "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other.things," showed unexpected results. The similarity of the results for both agreement and disagreement as shown in Figure 5 suggests that, at least among those responding to the questionnaire, money is not the prob-lem that it is generally thought to be. Figure 6 shows a higher percentage of agreement on the item, "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other things," among the older age groups. While this might have been expected, the actual difference is not as great as could have been predicted. Topics of Concern It was hoped that areas of concern could be identified by the items that are frequently topics of discussion. These were found to cover the whole range of those sug-gested, with the following results according to frequency: % 100 75 5O 25 0 % 1 O0I 75' O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Years in the Community Figure 5. Money is a source of tension. Figure 6. Community life suffers because sisters are out so often doing other things. religious life (72%), world news (68%), house problems (68%), the Church (67%), problems of the larger BVM congregation (67%), students and their families (57%), peace and war (56%), and U.S. political issues (53%). Others were indicated as being topics of discussion by fewer than half of the respondents, with hair and clothes being in lower positions than the items of general con-cern in the world, in the country, and in the congrega-tion. Satisfaction and Dissatisfaction The question, "Given your preference, and the absence of any practical consideration that would require other-wise, would you continue to live next year under the same life style," was answered "Yes" by 947 sisters (73%) and "No" by 259 or 20%. Those who answered "No" were asked to check the form of living that they would prefer and the item most often checked was "More regu-lar daily schedule of prayer and house activity." This preference was indicated by. 138 or 10.7% of those an-swering, while the second highest condition checked was "With persons who are more congenial." The results of this section of the questionnaire were broken down in a comparison with the items that were thought to reflect "community" and the results seemed somewhat indefinite. In general, those who would prefer to remain in the same life style had higher "Agree" scores on the positive items and lower "Disagree" scores on those that were negative, and the opposite was true of those who wished to change life styles. For example, on the question, "Communication among the sisters is good," of those who would remain in the same life style, 77% agreed to the statement and 12% disagreed, while among those who would change to another life style 36% -I. + + VOLUME 29, 1970 853 ÷ .÷ ÷ Sister Dorothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 854 agreed to the statement and 54% disagreed. There were similar combinations of "agreement" and "disagreement" in the breakdowns of this item with "The sisters often plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," and "Sisters in the house seem ~o like to be together." It is not clear to what extent these differences provide explanations for the desire to change life styles. There may be other explanations not touched upon by tl~is study. Characteristics of Local Communities Part I of the instrument was completed by the Com-munity Representative in each of the convents. No pat-tern of common prayer and liturgical experiences emerged. This might be due to the large number of un-answered items and to uncertainty in interpreting them. The most frequently checked item was "Celebration of the Eucharist" but the range of responses suggests that there were different interpretations to the question; for example, 25 Community Representatives checked "Sel-dom or never." This seems to indicate that there was uncertainty about whether it meant convent chapel or parish church, fora response of 100% daily celebration the Eucharist might have been expected. The rosary is still recited daily in 48 houses with an indication in 24 of them that most of the sisters attend. Vespers is said daily in 43 houses with 23 reporting that most attend. The changing pattern of prayer in the congregation is shown in Table II. Responses on the items concerning financial arrange-ments show the greatest possible variation in meeting most of the ordinary expenses. The sources include com-mon funds, personal stipend, parish, and school, and there were few items that did not fall into each of these. See Table III for items that are included, for the most part, in the three most general categories. Discussion--Interpretative Summary The study of the foregoing material and other details that were not included in the present report seem to provide a message of encouragement. It is evident that those who answered this questionnaire are, in large meas-ure, content in the convent living life style and that they feel their living situation provides them with the condi-tions for personal support that are necessary for Christian community living. A further reason for encouragement lies in the fact that, with few exceptions in the 5-19 year groups, there is no marked disagreement among the var-ious age groups in the congregation. Examination of the results of individual convents TABLE II Frequency and Attendance of Rosary and of Communal Prayer as Reported by Comraunity Representatives k,- Occ~-[Se)do=/ ~ost ~ ] Pew "__._~_~" ~ '_____~_~ s ionMl~y N eve_~_r A tten~ A tten~ 2tte2d Communal Prayerl~l~l~[~l~l~[- ~ TABLE III Methods of Meeting Ordinary Expenses as Shown by Responses of Community Representatives Common Fund Personal Stipend Both Common Fund and Personal Stipend Board/room Per capita Cook Mass stipends Gifts Insurance Spiritual reading books Household expenses Education Medical and dental Clothing Personal travel Entertainment Toll/long dis-tance telephone calls Non-prescription drugs Home visits Memberships/dues Refreshments other than meals Books other than spir-itual Carfare Use of car Professional travel showed great variation in tendencies toward general posi-tive and negative impressions. At this time, no definite score for rati

Issue 27.2 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; 193 208 223 243. 281 289 THE DEATH oF°.ATHEISM- . Rene H. Chabot,~ M.S. FUNCTIONAL APPROACH TO SILE_NCE: .°- Sister Joann Ottenstmer.i P ~ V.M "° ~ INDWELLING: TRANSFIGURING CONSUMMATION~" Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. ~. CLOISTER AND TH'E APOSTOLATE OF R~ELIGIOUS. WOMEN James R. Cain. ~ ~ CELEBRATION~OF THE PASCHAL~MYSTERY: THE:EUCHARIST Christopher Kiesling. O~P. ~. DIFFERENCES BETWEEN PONTIFICAL:-AND DIO.CESAN CON: GREGATIONS Joseph F. Gallen; S.J. -~ 308 MORE ON PRAYER Waltero~l. Paulits. F.S.C. 316 OUR LADY, CAUSEWAY Albert J. Hebert. S.M. 317 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS 321 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS 329 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. 344 BOOK REVIEWS EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWEKS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIaIOUS; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Galien, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial otfices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 559 North Grand Boulevard ; Saint Louts, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1968 by REVIEW FOR RELmlOUS at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. 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Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. MARCH I968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 2 RENE H. CHABOT, M.S. The Death- of Atheism THE WOUNDED HERO--MAN It is a diffichlt--perhaps even impossible--task to clearly understand the total human situation of man if one abstracts from God's saving and healing redemp-tion. The reason for this lies in the fact that man--the wounded hero--has never been left to himself, not even for one moment, without God's redeeming love reach-ing him, though at times in a most hidden manner. There was never a single moment in the history of fallen man when he was not in the hands and care of the Healer of all wounds. However, just as a sick person, convalescing from his illness with the help of medicine and doctors, precisely because he is in the process of re-covering and, therefore, not yet in possession of his former health, continues to manifest the nature of his illness thereby making it possible for his doctor to con-jecture what his situation might have been without the medical help he is now receiving, so too, man, because he is not yet fully redeemed and is still in the process of recovering, enables one to discover, or at least surmise, the depth and seriousness of his original illness. Though our fallen hero has never been without the soothing effect of God's healing love, his wounds are clearly visi-ble and one can conjecture what his situation (without any help from the outside)might have been. Such a ~onjecture of man's situation after the fall, abstracting from God's healing grace, will be expounded in the words that follow. An explanation will also be offered why, given such a situation, man finds it diffi-cult to believe in the existence of God, and, at times,' even rejects the possibility. Understanding the situation of our wounded hero will enable one to see better why he rejects, pure love and will also give one a greater comprehension of Christ's mission and, therefore, the mission of the Church--to make God credible to [allen humanity. + Father Rene H. Chabot, M.S., is a member of the La Salette Fathers; La Salette Shrine; At-fleboro,~ Massachu-setts 02703. VOLUME 27, 1968 , REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Wound Although possessing an "exalted dignity, since he stands above all things," as was so strongly emphasized in the Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, man has been severely bruised and deeply wounded. Fallen man is indeed a very sick man. This sickness can best be described as a deep-seated self-centeredness. Fallen man is profoundly inclined to selfishness. True love--the love for an other for himself, or, as other-- does not come to him naturally. When he loves, he easily makes himself the object of his love; thus the other is loved for what the one loving can obtain and is, there-fore, not loved but "used." Such easy-coming self-centered-hess is, undoubtedly, the most basic and lasting effect of man's original mistake--a mistake which was de-. cidedly a refusal to turn toward the Other and others as such in preference for a total turning to self. "Man set himself against God and sought to attain his goal apart from God. Although they knew God, they did not glor-ify Him as God, but their senseless minds were darkened and they served the creature rather than the Creator" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 12). The whole of mankind suffered a traumatic experience from this original turning to self. Even with Christ's healing power at work from the very first moment of need, the wound of fallen man is still easily recognizable. True love does not come naturally to man. Few people have learned to love totally and without reserve. Such a love is indeed the rarest and the most difficult of human achievements. Those who have achieved this love are very much aware of the constant and at times crucifying purification which necessarily preceded it. They are also aware that they could not have achieved this love by themselves without the help from someone else. Because of his wound, fallen man finds it natural to turn inward to-wards self and away from the other. Our wounded hero, alongside with his basic greatness and dignity, is "nat-urally" selfish. "Indeed, man finds that by himself he is incapable of battling the assaults of evil successfully, so that everyone feels as though he is bound by chains ¯. Sin has diminished man, blocking his path to fulfill-ment" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 13). Attitudes Which Result from Man's Wound Certain attitudes emerge from this basic and congeni-tal self-centeredness of man which, if left alone and un-controlled, may ultimately lead him to reject the real God and/or create his own. These attitudes are indeed very deeply etched in man's psyche. God's redeeming love has to some extent, and, in some rare cases, al- most totally, corrected them. However, in those instances where they are the rule rather than the exception, these attitudes clearly show how far they could lead man with-out the redeeming love of Christ. These attitudes are intimately linked with and the direct result of man's basic wound of selfishness and self-centeredness. They, in turn, as previously stated, tend to have man reject the one person who could heal him completely, thereby creating a kind of vicious circle. It is of extreme importance that one understand the situa-tion of fallen man in order to grasp why and how these attitudes stem from his own basic selfishness and, as a consequence, tend to have him reject the one true God. Such an understanding will place one in a more favor-able position to recognize the many forms of atheism in the modern world and why it exists in the first place. It will also give one a clearer vision--a deeper insight-~of Christ's mission as the physician of fallen man (see the Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 5). The Council fathers have recognized the seriousness of atheism in the modern world: "Many of our contemporaries have never recog-nized this intimate and vital link with God, or have ex-plicitly rejected it. Thus atheism must be accounted among the most serious problems of this age, and is de-serving of closer examination" (The Church in the Mod-ern World, n. 19). In order to prescribe the proper medi-cine capable of. healing a particular illness one must recognize the symptoms. Why is it that fallen man tends to reject God? How can we who are the prolongation of Christ the physician continue His mission of making God credible to the modern world i£ we do not first understand why and how He is rejected by man? A knowledge of the natural consequences of man's selfish-ness is of primary importance if one is to extend in his own life the healing influence which Christ personally brought to the world and which He now wants to bring to this world through His Church of today. Suspicious of True Love in t.he Other Normally, there are many subjective aspects in our evaluations--the way we think and feel does undoubt-edly condition and influence our decisions and judg-ments. (This, of course, does not mean that one cannot be objective in his judgment. After all, subjective and objective are not to be considered as either-or opposites.) However, personal attitudes and feelings should be, as far as is possible, in accord with the objective truth; otherwise, there will arise a great disparity between sub-jective and objective. If, for example, due to his narrow and biased up-bringing, a Person does not feel attracted to negroes, Death of Atheism VOLUME 27, 1968 19.~ M.~. REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS ]96 perhaps even harboring antipathy towards them, he will, most likely, disassociate himself with them. His subjective attitude, in this case, will have completely overshadowed the objective truth. Fallen man, observing that others live in somewhat similar situations as he, has a tendency to identify the evaluations and judgments of others with his own. If, for example, he is not at-tracted to the negro, he will, more often than not, be-lieve that other white people in his particular town, city, or country feel the same with reference to the negro. If reality shows him that there are some people who, although they are of the same color and live in the same vicinity as he, are in fact willing to associate with the negro, he will then question the genuineness of this as-sociation. He Will immediately look for ulterior motives, knowing that these motives would be the primary tea- ¯ son for his own association with the negro. Let us apply the above to the .situation of our wounded hero: Due to his deep wound caused by his original Fall, man very easily and "natur.ally" experiences himself as selfish and self-centered. In other words, man experi-ences his own sickness even if, most of the time, he does not consciously consider it as a wound which should not be thei~e. As a result, he projects to others the same kind of basic selfishness which he finds in himself. His thoughts of the other are most likely--"He must be as selfish as I he's out to get what he can from people--I don't trust him, he undoubtedly wants to use me." Fallen man arrives at this conclusion about the other even before meeting him. The other will have been judged as basically selfish and, therefore, not truly capa-ble of loving, for the simple reason that he has been judged according to the experience of the one judging. Add to this man's actual experience of meeting the other. His original projection is substantiated; the other is indeed selfish---he, too, is a wounded hero seeking in all things and in all people his own perfection and self-aggrandizement. Encounter for him is also a meeting of self and not of other~ Such experiences will naturally strengthen man in his conviction that true lovemthe love that seeks only the other for his own sake expecting nothing in return-- cannot possibly exist. This conviction is the result of his own life experiences and not based on any kind of abstract' or speculative 'thinking on his part. Fallen man :does not easily believe in goodness because he has not and does not experience it. It is hard for him to accept as real that. which, he does ,,not personally experience either in himself or in others whom he meets. ~Even with Christ's healing love at work, this unbeliev-ing~ attitude is still ,very" evident. People are so easily suspicious of the kindness of others. Their first reaction to this kindness, interiorly at least, could very well be: "Now what does he want--what's he up to?" If these questions are left unanswered, unbelief continues to sur-vive because they conclude that the ulterior motives prompting the act of kindness are of the type which are not immediately visible. Because he has been seriously wounded and has not yet been fully redeemed, man has difficulty in accepting the reality of true love. Though the doctor has come and has to some extent ar-rested the sickness, man continues to experience the ef-fect of his original wound because he has not completely recovered, Fearful of Being Loved There is yet another consequential attitude which the wounded hero develops from his experience of self-cen-teredness and that is the fear, at times even a deadly fear, of being loved.~To fallen man, self-sufficiency is identified with being, being free. This is but another aspect of his self-centeredness. Consequently, his search for fullness of being is identified with his search for self and total sufficiency. Identifying fullness of being with independence, he automatically rejects that which would call for dependence, that is, pure love. He is so fearful of love that at times even prior to his experiencing it, through a process of rationalization, he will go so far as to deny its possibility, and, therefore, its existence. One can easily refuse to acknowledge that which threatens his very existence. The sorrowful side of this situation is that fallen man, left alone without the healing love of God, cannot change his false identification of being and freedom with self-sufficiency. There is so little true love around him that he cannot experience the healthy kind of dependence which comes from being loved by another. Only the experience of true love is capable of erasing these erroneous attitudes from his mind and replacing them with a healthy outlook towards God and man alike. As his former attitude towards love is a result of a per-sonal experience, so also his new attitude will come only as a result of experienci,hg a new and different love, a love which, while creating [a certain dependence, is ca-pable of and necessary for bringing him to his greatest freedom and fulfillment. Without this new attitude, man rejects love because of his fear of it, fearing it because he identifies it with losing his freedom and being. As mentioned previously, this false identification is rooted in his experience of himself as a self-seeking individual. Even with the presence of God's healing grace, evi-dence of this fear of being loved is constantly present. We are afraid to be loved. If, for example, someone Death of A tlt~sm VOLUME 27, 1968 197 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 loves us and chooses to express his love with a gift, do we not often feel obliged to return this favor by another favor? A sincere "thank you" appears to be too little, but "another favor" would at least reach the level of "equal." To simply say "thank you" is in fact admitting and accepting to be dependent on someone else: it is accepting the dependence of love. By returning the favor we seem to become free again--we are no longer obliged. Such a manner of behaving clearly demon-strates that our sickness is a lingering one and we are still on the rugged road of recovery. The symptoms of the illness are still very visible. Naturally, one should love the one who loves him but should not feel obliged to return his gift with another. If he returns the favor only to relieve the feeling of obligation, he is not truly loving the one who first loved him, but loving himself in that he is actually seeking his own inde-pendence and welfare--seeking it in a way, however, which will not give it to him, but, on the contrary, will make him a slave of his own desires. The Rejection of God From what has already been said, it seems rather evident that our wounded hero's attitudes and feelings toward God have been profoundly conditioned and in-fluenced by the traumatic experience of his original act of selbcenteredness, the effects of which experience live on in each of us. Fallen man normally tends to reject the reality of an all-loving God who seeks nothing for Himself in loving man but loves man for his own sake. This rejection stems from the fact that he does not experience in and around himself the reality of goodness or of true love. His unbelief is further nurtured by the failure of the world in which he lives to make God credible to him in an existential way--notwith-standing, of course, the intellectual and more abstract capacities to prove the existence of God. The existence of such a God is not easily accepted by man because pure love seems to be in direct opposition to his daily personal experiences. He will often accept and believe in a god or in God, but not primarily in a God who is known and accepted first and foremost as a loving God. Man will accept more readily ~i just God, a jealous God, a vengeful God, but not so readily a loving God. Our fallen hero simply cannot naturally accept the reality of such a God. Existentially speaking, then, such a God is not credible to fallen mankind. Due to his innate fear of being loved, the wounded hero shies away from such a God, for to encounter Him and accept to be loved by Him is tantamount to a complete giving up of one's life--remembering al- ways that life to him is synonymous with independence. To accept to be loved by God is to accept also total dependence. Fallen man cannot naturally accept such dependence without at the same time--in his way of feeling and thinking--losing his own freedom and ful-fillment. The true image of God thereby becomes a threat to fallen man. To offset this threat, man will either reject Him completely in militant atheism, simply ignore Him, or diminish the threat by emphasizing the justice of God and so forth, and not His total and absolutely pure love. If man were to accept consciously and without fear the total dependency on God's pure love, he would no longer be a wounded man but a fully recovered patient. However, our thoughts are presently concerned with the wounded man who, as a result of his condition, will readily deny the existence of a pure all-loving God, or, if he does accept the existence of God, will feel obliged to do something in return. He will offer sacrifices to God to "make up" for all that God has done. This can be a very subde form of rejecting dependency on an all-loving God. Love for God should not be motivated by a sort 0f favor-for-favor kind of attitude. Such an attitude transmits one's hidden de-sire to remain free of God, to remain independent of Him. It is an indirect rejection of the reality of an all-loving God. Fallen man--self-centered as a result of his wound-- is perfectly conditioned to reject a priori the reality of a loving God. His wound is so penetrating that it clouds his vision and prevents him from seeing at an existential level the God of love. Yet, if he is to be healed, if he is to regain that health which was his at the beginning, man must believe in such a God and center his whole life on Him. The situation of fallen man does seem to be an impossible one---one from which he must be extracted if he is to ever recover. He must have help to accomplish that which he cannot be alone and that help can only .come from the God whom he so easily denies. Only He who is pure love fully realizes man's predicament and undertakes to make Himself credible to His unbelieving creature--to this man who is seemingly so perfectly conditioned never to believe in Him. Thus we enter into the realm of Christ's salvific mission. THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE OF GOD THROUGH CHRIST Christ is the sacrament of God, or, as St. Augustine wrote: "There is no other mystery of God than Jesus Christ." Here, the word "mystery" is equivalent to'sac-rament or sign. Therefore, Christ's mission is basically .!- + VOLUME 27, 1968 ]99 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20O that o[ being a witness. But what is a witness? W~nat are the exigencies proper to being a witness? Two things immediately come to mind: (1) That which is to be witnessed or signified It is not enough simply to be a witness. One could be a witness o[ stupidity or of selfishness--the world is not in need of such wit-nesses. Because Christ isa sacrament, His whole life was meant to be a sign, but a sign of what? True, He was a sign of God, but most particularly under what aspect? One must be aware of what Christ exactly in-tended to witness. (2) For whom is the signification meant?--The very word "witness" implies that someone is present to observe the sign given. One is a witness to someone, therefore, to people who live in very par-ticular situations and circumstances. For one to be a true witness, he must be understood by the people to whom he is a witness. He must know them and so arrange his sign that they are capable of "reading" him. He must do this in such a fashion that, even i£ they do not immediately "read" him, they will at least stop, listen, and ultimately either accept or reject that which he is witnessing. If Christ is the sacrament, it is important that one consider the persons to whom He is a witness. Christ, the Sacrament of Love Christ's mission was to reveal to the world the reality of love. Here, "to reveal" means more than making God's love known by a purely intellectual didactic teach-ing of His love. Christ gave to the whole world, but first and foremost to those around Him, to those with whom He lived, to those who could see Him, touch Him--in a word---to tho~e who could experience Him, a personal encounter with love, an encounter with some-one who loves totally---one who is comple~61y selfless and in no way whatever seeks anything for himself. Christ's role was to make the God of love credible to those people who were able to directly experience Him. We have seen how fallen man was naturally suspicious of the mere possibility of true love and fearful at the same time of being loved. It is only by experiencing pure love, that is, by meeting, on an existential level, true love, that one can rediscover his belief in a God of love. Certain attitudes and fears can only be over-come by personally experiencing the contrary of these attitudes and fears. Christ gave those around Him the opportunity to meet pure and total love. The sacra-ment of love came precisely to make God credible to all who met Him by living a life o[ total and dedicated selfless love. Christ the Sacrament for the Wounded Hero Christ's mission was not only to witness love, but to witness it in such a way that fallen humanity could understand and read Him. The human situation of man, as mentioned before, is quite unique. Our wounded hero is not neutral in reference to the possibility of love--he is not open as far as believing in the existence of love. The scars of his wound have left him piejudiced to the contrary. If one wishes totruly grasp Christ's witnessing of true ,love, it is .necessary that he first understand the situation of fallen humanity. Christ did not witness the love of His Father as in a vacuum, but to people living in a very particular situation--He witnessed to fallen humanity. In another situation~ne where man had not experienced the deadly wound of selfishness--he undoubtedly Would have been more open to the reality of God, and, consequently, would have more easily recognized true love. That which might have been a clear sign of love in another situation was not in fact a clear sign of selflessness to the existential and historical man. Christ's witnessing of His Father's love, therefore, must be understood in the context of the historical [allen man. The sacramental value of Christ's life was for man as he existedmnot for man as he might have existed, as he existed before the fall, or for man as he will exist after the completion of the redemption. Too often we disassociate Christ's sacra-mental life from the existential reality of fallen man-kind. This often happens at the level of the Church and religious life. It is not enough to speak of the Church and of religious life as signs. The sacramental value of both must be related to the reality of the world of the here ~nd now. Is the Church and religious life a sign to this world, a sign that this world can read? What might have been a valid and true sign in the past might no longer be understood today. If such is the case, both the Church and religious must learn more about the world in which they live in order that they may be a more living witness to the world of today. Of what value are they as witness if the world, because of its attitudes, cannot read them? God, in sending His only Son to witness to the world the reality of His love, took into account the existential reality of man. His sacrament (Christ) was commensurate with man as he is, not as he was, will be, or might have been. The Signs of Selfless Love To a world which leans towards attributing ulterior motives to every act of kindness, which experiences selfishness in loving or in being loved, there could be ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 20! ÷ Rene H. Chabo~ M.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS no greater testimony of real love than the love which seeks only to give--receiving nothing and expecting nothing in the very act of loving. Such a witnessing of love by Christ necessarily had to take on some very particular modalities due to the special circumstances in which fallen man found himself. Christ, therefore, chose to love and actually receive nothing in return. Such a .love shocks the unbeliever, but he cannot deny the personal experience he has in meeting such a love. As much as he might try, he cannot see any possible ulterior motives in such a love. This explains "why Christ,' in loving the world, chose to receive nothing in return, thereby giving the world the experience of a selfless love. It was the actual self-emptying of Christ in the act of loving which gave the experience of love to those who knew and met Him. A love which had not been expressed by such a self-emptying could not have carried this world to God. A world which was so deeply egocentric could not have been led to a God of pure love without the visible witnessing of a self-emptying love. Christ was that wit-ness. Christ gave to those who experienced Him loving "to the end" a personal encounter with a selfless God, an encounter with the God of love. It is only in the context of a self-emptying love--which love was neces-sitated by the actual situation of fallen man--that one can appreciate those aspects of His life which are given particular emphasis: (1) His extraordinary preoccupa-tion for the poor; (2) His martyrdom; and (3) His virginity. Christ and the Poor "Blessed are the poor." Christ, of course, loved all men, rich and poor alike; He died for all men, the haves and the have-nots. But first and foremost he wanted to be identified with the Poo~. Why did He choose to be so identified? In order that the purity of His love--God's love--might be more visible to fallen man. The poor could not give Him anything in return, they could not visibly recompense Him for His care and solicitude. In other words, through His identifica-tion with the Poor He could more easily witness to the poor and rich alike that He had not come to love only those who could receive Him well, who could discuss intellectual issues and world problems with Him, or who could entertain Him. His mission as witness was to show the world that pure love is a reality--that God is a reality and that He had not come for what the world could give Him. He came only to give---only to love. His identification with the needy, both the physical and spiritual, was indeed a most beautiful emptying o~ self. It is significant to note that such a preoccupation for the poor was a sign to both the rich and the poor. Christ thereby witnessed to the rich that He loved them in themselves, purely, that is, and not for what they could give Him. If Christ had identified Himself first and foremost with the rich, the powerful, the influential, He would not have been able to give the fallen world, with its selfish attitude and suspicion of the mere possibility of true love, a clear testimony of divine love. The existential circumstances of those to whom one desires to witness must always be considei:ed; other-wise, the witness stands alone and that which he is a sign of remains forever hidden. The Death o[ Christ Christ's witnessing of His Father's lov~ was necessarily conditioned by the historical situation of fallen hu-manity. A true sign or witness is the one which can be understood by a particular person living in par-ticular circumstances. Fallen man is basically suspicious of the reality of love; thus, to him, the ultimate proof of love is to visibly see one who not only receives nothing in the act of love, but actually loses what is his by birth--his life. There is no greater expression of love to a man who, because of his deep attitudes and experiences, doubts that love is possible. Christ's death was precisely that unique testimony of love; it was indeed the greatest manifestation of God. Those who personally experienced Christ and His giving of His life for others experienced true love, thereby experienc-ing also the God who is pure love. By making love credible to man, Christ made God credible. This was the total self-emptying of the Son of Man. It is no wonder., that "the Church then considers martyrdom as an exceptional gift and as the fullest proof of love." Christ's death, therefore, was the fullest and strongest rebuttal to fallen man's suspicious attitude about God. It was that which could, more than any other proof offered, counteract his natural (natural, be-cause of his sin) tendency to universalize selfishness to the extent of denying the very existence of God. In His death, Christ became the clearest proof of the existence of God. Christ, the Virgin It is in the same context of witnessing true love to fallen humanity that one can understand and appreciate the meaning of Christ's virginity. As already empha-sized, the greatest proof of tota! and unselfish love is that one be not only willing but does in fact give his life (in the sense of losing it) in the very act of loving 4- 4. .4" Death oy Atheism VOLUME 27, 196S 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Rene H. Chabot, M.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the other. This is even great~er than receiving nothing in return. After one's own life, the next greatest emptying of self---the next greates.t sign of lovemis to love and not receive the highest good after self--the "other self," namely, a spouse and children. The greatest sign of . love after martyrdom, then, is that of virginity. Christ's virginity was to fallen man an .added proof of God. As in the case of martyrdom, Christ's virginity was a sign of true love only because He valued the goods of marriage very highly. A so-called martyr who does not value his own life is not a true witness of love. So, too, the virgin who does not highly value the goods which he has sacrificed is not a true witness of. God and not a true virgin for the kingdom of heaven. THE EXl'E~ENCE OF GOD IN AND THROUGH THE CHURCH The whole of Christ's life--but especially His martyr-dom, virginity, and poverty--was, to a world steeped in its own self-centeredness, a living proof of the reality of love. Christ's life was to those who knew Him personally--the first Christian communityma reality which they personally experienced. Such an experience counteracted their natural suspicion of the reality of goodness and thereby made the God of pure love credi-ble to them. But what about all the future generations ~those who would come after Christ? Are they to only know of Christ? Are they simply to be told of Christ's great witnessing of love at a given moment in history? Is it sufficient for one who himself is wounded simply to know that someone in the past has truly loved? Is Christ's witnessing of love to be a genuine experience for some and just a memory for others? Is His witnessing limited to the historical Christ? All of mankind has been deeply influenced by the original fall and, as a consequence, all are marked with the scar of unbelief---unbelief especially in a God of love. To remedy this situation, it is not sufficient that one know of goodness, but that one actually experience goodness, that one meet goodness in an existential way. This means that i[ Christ's witnessing of true love was in-tended for the whole world--and it was--it is necessary that somehow the whole world be given the advantage of experiencing Christ in a way which goes beyond knowing of Him. One must experience true love as the first Christians did. In the world of the here and now, the historical Christ cannot a~hieve this. That which the historical Christ did for those who could experience Him, the risen Christ must now continue in time and place that all may have the privilege of per-sonally experiendng true love and come thereby to believe in the reality of a God of love. This is the mission of the Church. The Church Thanks to the renewal of ecclesiology in recent years, and, more specifically, thanks to the great work of Vatican II, the Church has become more clearly aware of herself and of her mission, which mission is one and the same as the mission of Christ. The Church must preach the Gospel. To spread the "good news," how-ever, it is not su~cient to preach of Christ--to remind the People of the "historical" Christ. To be sure, they must be keenly aware of the great event of Christ, but the Church must do more than remind the world of Christ. Such a knowlege is not an experiential knowl-edge and cannot counteract the world's experience of selfishness. The Church must, like Christ, give this mod-ern world the experience which Christ gave to those who met Him in Palestine--the Church must give to all who know her and meet her the experience of true selfless love, of a love that seeks only to give. This world, like all men of all times, is a wounded world and in dire need of personally experiencing true and genuine selfless goodness. Without such an experience, this world will not easily believe in God. The Church must make God credible by her total self-giving. Considering the actual situation of fallen man, she will not convince him that love is a reality without an actual self-empty-ing in the very act of love. What has been said of Christ as witness applies also to the Church. Indeed, through the Church, it is the risen Christ who continues His witnessing of love. It is Christ Himself who con-tinues to live on in His Church; it is Christ, therefore, who continues through the Church to make God credi-ble to the world at an existential level. The Church can hide the face .of GOd by not willingly accepting its tremendbus mission of total self-emptying for others. It must be emphasized that all Christians are caught up in this mission of making God credible by witnessing love and selfessness to a world suspicious of love. Every Christian must be willing to love the other,, receiving nothing in return, and, if necessary, losing what he has in order to more clearly demonstrate to this world the reality of love. No doubt there are, within the Church, different' charismatic vocations concerning thi~ witness-ing of God's love. All, however, are committed to .wit-ness .love wherever they are and in whate~;er activity they are involved. ,' ' ' . VOLUME 27° 1968 " 205 Rene H. Chabot, MS. REVIEW FeR RELIGIOUS Religious It is only within this context of the Church as a wit-ness of the selfless love of God that one can truly appreciate and understand the meaning and richness of religious life. The religious must be a witness of love--an outstanding witness. To be an outstanding witness to a fallen world, the religious must love with a selbemptying love, that is, he must actually not re-ceive and even lose what he has in the very act of loving. This explains why a religious must live a truly self-emptying way of life. As seen in the historical ob-servation of Christ's life, next to martyrdom, the greatest self-emptying and, therefore, the clearest witness of pure love, is the life of virginity. All three vows are meant to help the religious witness love in a most beautiful way to the fallen world, but, above all, the vow of chastity does so. In order, therefore, for a religious to understand his particular way of life, and more es-pecially his life of virginity and identification with the poor, he must at all costs understand that he is first of all for others and must witness to them in an "outstand-ing" way the reality of God's love. This presup-poses, then, that he has understood the existential sit-uation of modern man, of fallen humanity. His wit-nessing cannot be in the abstract, but, rather, to man as he exists. Man as he exists is self-centered. He must experience true love by meeting people who love in such a way that they receive nothing in return, and, if love so demands, lose what is theirs by right in the act of loving. The religious is one who is called to witness this self-emptying love in a unique manner-- especially and more clearly through a life of chastity. To the extent that the Church and religious are faith-ful to their vocation and mission, to that same extent will God be made credible. The opposite is also true, for to the extent that they fail to live out their voca-tion, to that same extent also will they "have more than a little to do with the birth of atheism., and conceal the authentic face of God and religion" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 19). .Only when unbelief encounters love will the death of atheism take plac.e, only then will its ugly head be crushed, never again to cryu"Th~re is no God." This meeting will some day take place, for man, in whom unbelief exists, was created by and for the One who is love. It is inevitable that their paths should cross. The "heirs of the kingdom" must do all in their power to insure that this meeting takes place here below. Christ is their power, and through them the sign which He came to give must shine forth for all to see. They must be persevering in their efforts, for encounter might even be delayed until the "eleventh hour." Atheism ~,ill not die without a battle. Its greatest opponent will be the living proof, given by the historical Christ and continued in the risen and mystical Christ, that love without any strings attached, a love that is willing even to cut off the last thread of life to prove its sincerity, has existed in the past and continues to exist here and now. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 2O7 SISTER JOANN OTTENSTROER, P.B.V.M. A Position Paper on a Functional Approach to Silence One of the common elements to be found in the rules of the various religious orders in the Church down through history is silence. Today when each aspect of religious life is being rethought in the light of the modern milieu it seems right that silence should also be reexamined. In many areas of religious living modern needs and changing circumstances demand a different emphasis or viewpoint than have been used in the past. It has been suggested by Donald L. Gelpi, S.J., that this new approach should be a functional one, that is, one which has a practical purpose in mind. It is possible to apply this idea of functionalism to silence. In exploring this possibility the most fundamental starting point is Scripture. A scriptural view of silence reveals the most basic rea-son for silence, that of providing an atmosphere con-ducive to a deep personal relationship with God. In the 01d Testament silence of itself does not stand out as a theme. It is always related to prayer or awe of the Almighty. Instead of being commanded to keep silence the Israelites are often commanded to speak: "Take to + heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill + them into your children. Speak of them at home and ÷ abroad, whether you are busy or at rest" (Dt 6:67). Sister Joann O~- Silence in the life of Christ is also related to His tenstroerisaf~u.'ul~ periods of prayer: "And when he had dismissed the rnernb~ of Sacred crowd, he went up the mountain by himself to pray" Heart School; Aber-deen, South Dakota (Mr 14:23). "Now it came to pass in those days, that he 57401. '. , " ¯ went out to the mountain to pray and continued all REVlW¢ r0R~EL*e.n1i0gUhSt iwnh penra Cyherri stto f eGlto tdh"e (nLeekd 6 f:o1r 2s)il.e Intc cea Hne b wei tnhodtriecwed f rtohmat 208 those around Him. He did not impose His need for silence upon others but rather showed them by His example that a man needs frequent periods of time alone with his God if he is to learn to know and love Him in a deep, personal way. The few times when it is specifically recorded that Christ kept silence in the presence of others He was using it as a rebuke or a seeming rebuke. This can be seen in His refusal to answer Pilate and Herod: "But Jesus gave him no answer" (Jn 19:9). Now he put many questions to him, but he made him no answer" (Lk 23:9). The Canaanite woman certainly felt this rebuke as Christ tested her faith: "He answered her not a word" (Mr 15:23). So also did the men who had accused the adulteress while forgetting their own guilt. The appli-cation of this use of ~silence to the life of a Christian would of necessity be rare since the all-pervading spirit of a Christian, as it is of Christ, is love and joy, not rebuke. When Christ speaks of the use of the tongue it is mainly an encouragement of the correct use of speech, to praise God, to greet all not just friends (Mt 5:47), to preach the good news; or it is a warning against the misuse of speech. Thus He warns: "But I tell you, that of every idle word men speak, they shall give account on the day of judgment. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be cbndemned (Mt 12:36-7). It would not be correct to conclude from this warning that Christ expected His followers to abandon the use of their tongue in order to avoid idle words. A more logical conclusion would be that He expected His followers to use their speech to communicate the spirit of brotherhood which He had given them. As Sister Rose Alice, s.s.J., has said: "Perhaps we need to be reminded that nothing is idle which conduces to charity." 1 Like their Master the writers of the Epistles encourage the proper use of speech and warn against its misuse: "Let no ill speech proceed from your mouth, but what-ever is good for supplying what fits the current necessity, that it may give grace to the hearers" (Eph 5:29). "Let the word of Christ dwell in you abundantly: in all wisdom teach and admonish one another by psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing in your hearts to God by his grace" (Col 3:16). "Out of the same mouth proceed blessing and cursing. These things, my brothers ought not to be so" (Jas 3:2). James fully recognizes the. difficulties which a Christian encounters as he tries to live out this positive use of his speech to bring joy rather than pain to others. However, 1Sister Rose Alice, s.s.J., "On the Art of Small Talk," REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 23 (1964), p. 766. + + + Alflrroach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 SistePr~ ]Boa.Vnn~I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS it do~s not seem that he wants his fellow Christians to de.spair of ever suc.ceeding in this task and to lapse into negative silence. The attitude toward silence which reveals itself in the Scriptures is ~a positive one o[. using silence as a more direct and conscious awareness of one's relati6nship with God. It does not mean a cutting~6ff of the positive use of speech to share this. awareness and its consequent joy with others. Scriptural silence callg for a control of one's tongue whenever speech will wound another person or betray the spirit of ~Jnity and love which Christ wills His followers to share with those they meet as they live their daily lives. Thus from the Scriptures it can be seen that silence and speech complement each'othe~ 'silence pro-viding an atmosphere~ f6r personal contact with God and speech providing a sharing of the results of this contact when the' Christian is again in the presence of other persons. This positive attitude to'ward silence which is found in the Scriptures can also be found in the history of the rules of ~silence and the place of ~ilence in religious o~ders as they developed in the life of thd Church. At times it may seem that ~t more negative, approach, of silence for its own sake,'had darkened this'httitude in the early religious communities' but /~ more Chreful study shows that basically the idea of silence as a functional means to union with'God was never lost. The first religious had as their main purpose a per-sonal union with God acquired by. withdraw!rig from the World of sin in a physical, and mental way, Thomas Merton points oht how° these monks differ frdm other religious: "The monk is distinguished, even from other religious vocations by the fact that he is essentially and conclusivel~ dedicated to seeking God, rather than seek-ing souls for God." 2 Since St. Beiaedict's Rule has .bedn one of the greatest influences on later religious orders, it ma~y be used to show how silence was viewed at the beginning of monas-ticism and on through history. In the rule of St. Benedict these quotations about silence may be found: Chapter 6 of Silence. Let us act in .conformity with that say-ing of the Prophet: 'I have set a guard.to my mouth; I was dumb and Was humbled and kept silence from good things.' Here the prophet shows that if we ought at times for the sake of silence to refrain even from good'words, much more ought we to abstain from words on account of the punishment due to sin. Therefore, on account of the importance of silence, let permission to speak be rarely given even to the perfect disciples, even thougli their" words be good' and holy and conducive to edification because it is written: 'In the multitude s Thomas Merton, The Silent L~fe (New York: Farrar, Cudahy and Strauss, 1957), p. viii. of words there shall not want sin,' and elsewhere: 'Death and life are in the power of the tongue.' 'For to speak and to teach are the province of the master, whereas that of the disciple is to be silent and ligten. Therefore; if anything is to be asked of the superior, let' it be done with all humility and subjection of reverence lest one seem to speak more than is expedient. Buffoonery, however, or idle words or such as move to laughter we utterly condemn in every place, and forbid the disciple to open his mouth to any such discourse? That No One May Speak After Compline. Monks ought to have a zeal for silence, at all times, but especially during the hours of the night and this should hold at all times, whether on days of fasting or othbi" days., and on ,coming out from Compline no one shall bb allowed thereafter to speak to any-one. But if one be found"~o have violated this rule' of silence, let him be subjected to severe punishment--unless the presence of guests make it necessary, or perhaps the Abbot should give one a command. But even.this must be done becomingly and with all gravity and mo.d~rfition.' The most profound silence shall be kept at table so that the whispering or voice of no one save that of the reader ~lone be heard. The brethren will so help'each other, to what is neces-sary as regards food and drink that no one may have need to ask for anything. Should however something be required, let it be asked for by means of Some sign rather thanby words. Let no one ask any question there ConCerning What is being read or anything else, lest occasion be given to ~e Evil One, unless perhaps the superior should wish to say something briefly for the edification of the brethren? The idea of silence which emerges from these quota-tions is one of absolute; complete silence within :the monastery. How did' silence~ come ' to be h~ld as" such an important, discipline 1~3;' St. Benedict? First '6f all, it must be understood that Benedict presupposed that the ob-servance of external silence would bring the desired union with God. If he were questioned m6re about it, iv is likely ~that he would answer as Thomas Merton has: Monastic solitude, poverty, obedience, silence and p~a~er dispose the soul for this mysterious destiny in "God. Asceticism itself does not produce divine union as its direct result. It only disposes the soul for union. When ascetic practices are misused, they serve only to fill the monk with himself and to harden his heart in resistance to grace? Secondly, it must°be kept "in mind that the withdrawal from the world of men was basic to the life of a monk. This cannot be said of modern, active rell~ious. As one looks back to what the early Church fathers hav~ said about silence it may seem that the~ too praise silence for its'own sake as if it alone could produce a true spiritual life. "Where the severity of silence is strictly observed, religion thrives most commendably The Holy Rule o/ Our Most Holy Father Saint Benedict (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1937), p. 25-6. Ibid, p. 68-9. Ibid, p. 64. Merton, The Silent Li~e, pp. 3--4. Approach Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 211 ÷ Sister ]oann, P .B. V .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and fully" (John Gerson, chancellor of Paris).¢ How-ever, here again these men presupposed a purposeful use of silence. This is shown in many other examples of thoughts on silence from men of the early Church. "For it is in vain that the tongue remains silent unless the spirit addresses itself to God" (Cardinal John Bona, Cistercian).s "Silence is an excellent thing, in fact, it is nothing other than the mother of the wisest thought" (St. Diadochus).O "Speak, if you have something to say that is better and more excellent than silence. But when it is more advisable to be still rather than to speak, embrace silence" (St. Gregory of Nazianzus).1° "For it is written: 'A wise man is silent till the right time comes' (Sir 20:6), that is to say, when he sees it opportune to speak what is fitting, he sets aside the rigorous observance of silence and directs his effort to be of assistance" (St. Gregory the Great).11 As time went on, the living out of the Rule of Benedict began to change. The primitive observance of labor, obscurity, and solitude came into contact with the urban monasticism of the cities. These monks or canons of the city existed only to furnish choirs for the great Roman basilicas. From these two groups one emerged in which the liturgy was their whole life. "The offices 'became longer, liturgical, ceremonies were added, work was curtailed or ceased to exist, and the monk became in-tensely conscious of his function as one deputed to carry out with solemnity the public worship of the Church." 12 Shortly after the death of St. Benedict his monks be-came missionaries. However, even as they became more active they cl'ung to the original purpose of the primitive order, that of withdrawing from men to approach God dire~ctly. "The monks had been chosen for the work of spreading the Christian faith and preserving what could be preserved of Roman order and culture. But their vocation was to remain, as it had always been, essen-tially contemplative, sedentary and silent." 13 It is not until later in history when such people as Vincent de Paul, Angela Merici, and Nano Nagle ap-pear, that one finds religious orders whose purpose has changed from that of the primitive monks. Of course they still seek a personal union with God but now it is through other people, not by withdrawal from them. Each of these founders saw that the rules of the earlier 7Maurus Walter, O.S.B., The Principles of Monasticism (St. Louis: Herder, 1962), p. 71. s Ibid, p. 70. s Ibid, p. 67. 10 Ibid, p. 63. 11 Ibid, p. 72. m Thomas Merton, The Silent Life, p. fig. la Ibid, p. 70. monastic orders would not fit his group. Each struggled to keep his community free from the observances which would cut it off from the People of God with whom they wished to work. Yet these rules had become so rigid that in order to survive at all, the founders were forced to accept what they so desperately opposed. Only centuries later, when secular institutes appeared, did anyone succeed in establishing a religious group without taking on all the rules of early monasticism. If this desire to escape monastic rules were applied to silence, it would no doubt be seen that, while silence would certainly be necessary for prayer and personal re-evaluation in any apostolic religious group, so also would the correct use of speech be necessary. Such extremes as condemning what causes laughter or using sign language would not be considered proper for a group working directly with other people. As history continues to unfold, perhaps the most not-able change in mankind is the rate of this change. Devel-opments which once took centuries now happen in a few years. The multitude of new facts, ideas, and situa-tions is fabulous and ever growing. To handle these changes and integrate them in a meaningful way man has seen the need for better communication. Both mass media and small group discussions have been brought to bear on this problem of rapid change. Vatican II has considered communication important enough to issue a decree on it. This is one aspect of the world in which modern religious groups find themselves. Thus, for religious use also, communication becomes ever more important. If their purpose is union with God through God's people living today, then they too must know how to communicate and integrate the vast number of new ideas and situations which confront them. They must look at silence and find its essence. They cannot tolerate accidentals which belong to another age and serve an-other purpose. Since it can safely be said that "silence is not classified as a virtue, but it is the atmosphere in which virtues develop," 14 it follows that it is possible for this atmos-phere to fail to produce the desired virtue. There are other elements in any given situation which can make silence destructive instead of productive. This is recog-nized even by authors who have devoted an entire chapter or article to the praise of silence. There is usually included a warning against the misuse of silence: "Care must be taken not to use obligatory silence as a cloak for a silence willingly practiced to spurn a neigh-bor for real or imagined injury. There is not only no 1~ Luis M. Martinez, Only Jesus (New York: Herder and Herder, 1962), p. 36. ÷ ÷ + Approach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ + Sister $oann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS merit in this type of silence, but it can actually be sin-ful." 1~ "The manner in which religious silence is some-. times practiced causes one to Wonder whether the whole matter is at all feasible. At one time silence in a con-vent or monastery or seminary appears to be a cold indifferent rudefiess. At another it seems to offer a nega-tion as answer to real human needs: the need to share with a special friend or the need to unburden oneself to another. Surely, if religious silence meant this kind of thing it would be incompatible with the second greatest precept, a warm sympathetic understanding love of our brother or sister." le Perhaps the most obvious danger of silence is the tendency to use it as a cloak to diguise selfishness. It is very easy to become so involved in one's own work and concerns that other people do not matter. Silence be-comes a convenient way to avoid getting involved with others. In many cases the effort required to say something encouraging or cheerful to a sister one meets is much greater than simply not speaking to the sister. Often this silence is simply an ignoring of even the thought that this sister might' be in need of a friendly word from someone. Getting involved in the problems of another will demand time. It is much more simple to just keep silence. God will help the sister if she needs help. But the fact which is forgotten is that God will use the lips, heart, and mind of another person to bring the aid of which the sister is in need. One author has made this attitude clear by using this example: Those who have enjoyed the gift of ill-health will remember vividly their return, after a long absence, to their religious house. More than the uncarpeted floors, and perhaps the hard bed, the thing that impresses most as different is the observance of silence. After the first greeting, people settle down to passing you in the corridor without the flickering of the eyelid; they look for no sign of recognition and give none. Rather they look through you . They will sit mute beside you at meals, mouths active only in the intake of calories. During the previous weeks it would have been considered ill mannered to ignore a nurse or doctor or patient, and might have caused comment on the aloofness or snobbery of religious. In a lay community of any kind, even if your intention were to save people from boredom or embarrassment or waste of time, they would interpret your behavior as unfriendly and resent it . Now, ina religious house we develop a flair for ignoring each other. We have chosen to absolve each other from the necessity of speaking whenever we meet; indeed we oblige ourselves not to speak for long periods of the day.1~ 1~ Rev. Charles Hugo Doyle, Little Steps to Great Holiness (West-minster: Newman,. 1956), p. 256; ~OThomas Dubay, S:M., "Silence and Renewal," REw~w FOR RELX~;~OUS, V. 15 (1956), p. 93. l~Michael Sweetman, S.J., "Silence," R~vmw Fog RELm~ous, v. 22 (1963), p. 450. A second danger of too much silence is a retarding of interpersonal relationships which are necessary for each person if he is to become more fully human. In religious life one important task is the building of a real com-munity. To do this each sister must get to know the other sisters with whom she lives to a more than superficial depth: This union demands that religious discover and love each other in their individuality, that they be aware of the needs of others, that they seek the interests of others and appreciate those with whom they live. Only in so doing do the members discover and become themselves. There is required a spirit of openness and honesty among the members in order to effect this personal contact as opposed to the individual being wrapped up in self as an isolated unit in an aggregate.~ Just as in a family, unity in religious" life breaks down when the members do not communicate with each other: Building family trust is a big, big job. And the toughest ~aart is learning to talk things out. Without talking, few milies can get along well. The members can't really under-stand family hopes and problems unless they have been dis-cussed.~ If this is true of families which are united by blood and common background, it certainly would be more true in a group with varying backgrounds which wishes to form a common uniting bond of understanding and love. This type of deep relationship cannot be acquired with-out much time given to real communication between the persons involved. The opportunity for such com-munication has not been provided for religious in the past: The personal relationship that has been characteristic of the religious' relationship to Almighty God has almost fenced her off from communicating with her fellow religious. Outside of stylized and formalized recreation, certainly among religious women, there is very little opportunity to sit down and talk things over.= Some of the attitudes religious now have toward talk-ing in order to establish a personal relationship with another sister must be changed if this misuse of silence is to be overcome. A deeper level of communication is often reached through small talk: "It has been a common experience among college teachers that small talk with their stud- ~sWilliam F. Hogan, C~S.C., "Community Life, an Event," Sisters Today (1966), p. 356-7. :tJim Carroll, "Let's Start Talking," Witness, v. 3 (April 23, 1967), p. 8. =John J. Evoy and Van F. Christoph, Maturity in the Religious Li/e, New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965, p. 230. ÷ ÷ ÷ A~oo~h to Silence VOLUME 27, 4. 4. 4. Sister Joann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 216 ents often paves the way for some very serious talk." 21 "Yet it [small talk] will always be other-oriented, not naive prattle, but the practical expression of that socia-bility which can be described as 'patient, kind, seeking not its own, not puffed up.' " 22 An appreciation and respect for the kind of communication which builds real personal relationship and thus a community of united persons must be developed in order to make silence purposeful rather than a destructive force. Another situation in which maintaining silence would be damaging is in failing to give a concrete expression to one's ideas and opinions. A person's thoughts on any given subject are tested and either strengthened or modified by exposing them to the criticism of others: Those in charge of religious, particularly at the beginning of their training, should reflect that the religious who finds that she is isolated constantly and must do practically all her thinking alone, and does not have a chance really to com-municate with others, is going to be deprived of a richness which is there, if only permitted and encouraged.= Now it is true that each of them presumably thinks re-peatedly about many important things in her meditation and other prayers. But her significant thinking must also in large ~reaqrut ebnet wopipthoirntu an istoiecsi atol ccoomntmexutn. iAca tree.l~igious should be given Training in communicating ideas would be needed for all religious, but especially for those who came from families in which there was little discussion or sharing of ideas. These people would need to be led to see the value of such sharing as well as how to carry it out: But it may be objected, is it so necessary that everyone ex-press himself at the group, meetin. .g? Surely the Sister who says nothing during an entire d~scuss~on does not seem to be par-ticipating to the full, but she may help very much by her presence and encouraging demeanor. True her presence may do much for the atmosphere, but effort is needed if she is to express herself, to voice her agreement, or the lack of it--all these call for the inter-functioning of body, intellect, will, and emotions: for integrated self-activity. The result of such effort is an enhancement of the self--and benefit to her and all those who hear her. The chance to give an opinion, be it ever so brief, to express her views, places her in a condition of openness and dialogue with others, while silent consent can never reproduce such a state. The prudence, kindliness, discre-tion, and frankness which such expression of opinion will elicit from her will develop her personality and give her inmost thoughts in concrete form. Moreover, she has the some-times new experience of having her opinion taken seriously, received with respect, and given consideration by her peers. Again, this is enrichment; community is being fashioned. In the warmth of give and take her ideas are multiplied, Sister Rose Alice, "On the Art of Small Talk," p. 766. Ibid. Thomas Dubay, "Silence and Renewal," p. 231. Thomas Dubay, "Silence and Renewal," p. 2~0. broadened, and deepened. Ramifications she never dreamt of are now added to her stock of ideas and impressions on the subject. She begins to "experience community" through the gift of her speech-attempts, through the gift of herself to the gro.up; and the group's acceptance of her continues the ex-perience in their lives as well.~ Since sisters today are expected to be able to think for themselves and form their own opinions, it is absolutely necessary that they be given frequent opportunities to clarify their ideas by sharing them with others. Only then will their opinions be strong but still flexible enough to meet other opinions and produce worthwhile results. It is obvious that something which has been valued as highly as silence has been for so many centuries must have many valuable uses which counteract the dangers involved. The first use of silence, which has already been mentioned in the scriptural and historical development of silence, is that of prayer: "The positive reason for silence is, of course, to give ourselves a chance to find God and live in his presence/' 26 If prayer is considered as a conversation with God, needed to develop a deep personal relationship, then it can be seen that much time must be spent in this conversation just as much time is needed to develop deep human relationships. Just as in human love, after the relationship has been developed silence itself can communicate: "When love has reached a high degree words are not necessary. Silence becomes a form of communication." 27 By the very fact that prayer is an expression of a per-sonal relationship with God it will vary greatly with each person in the kind, the amount, and the place of this expression. It would be supposed that the union needs daily strengthening if it is to continue todevelop. Each religious should be free to take the periods of silence she needs to engage in prayer. It should not be necessary to set up strict legislation on this matter. When a sister withdraws from the company of others to the chapel, her own room, or a quiet place outdoors a mutual charity among the rest of the community should allow her the silence she needs. However, she should not expect to impose on the other sisters her need for silence at any given time. A mutual understanding and reasonable-ness on each side is needed. It seems logical to expect that each sister who has professed a desire for an intimate union with God would feel the need for a reasonable portion of each day to be spent in loving conversation with Him. Another activity which needs frequent periods of ~nSister Gertrude Joseph Donnelly, C.S.J.O., The Sister Apostle, (Notre Dame: Fides, 1964), p. 42. ~ Michael Sweetman, "Silence," p. 431. ~ Luis M. Martinez, Only Jesus, p. 36. ÷ ÷ ÷ Approach to Silence ~/OLUME 27, 1968 4. SistePr~ ].oVa~nnI., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS silence is reading. Related to this is serious study of new views and ideas as they appear on the world scene: "It [silenCe] provides the only possible atmosphere for serious study." 2s .As the profusion of worthwhile books and magazines continues to grow, each sister should feel a corresponding growth in the need to take more and more time to read. This demands periods of silence. A sister who lacks the self-discipline to provide increased time for reading and study or who does not realize the need for such study cannot expect to be able to have an intelligent understanding of the world around her. Nor will she be able to appreciate the renewal taking place within the Church and her religious community. This use of silence for intellectual growth is becoming in-creasingly important to religious life today. A use of silence which has a great effect on the moral and spiritual development of the person is the re-evalua-tion of himself. This might be thought of as examina-tion of congcience but actually it should be much broader. Included in the evaluation should be the goals to be reached, the means used to reach the goal, as well as neglects or failings in using the means. This type of evaluation would not need lengthy, daily times of silence but rather a few minutes a day with longer periods on days of recollection and retreats. The person who fails to reevaluate himself periodically is very likely to become too rigid in his attitudes and ways of doing things. He runs the risk of becoming irrelevant since the circum-stances in which he must strive for his goals are con-stantly changing, thus requiring him to change his re-sponse also. Silence is a~so needed for the carrying out of most creative activities. One who is fortunate enough to have the ability to see the things around him in a uniquely perceptive way needs times of silence in order to produce an expression of his experiences through which they can be shared with others. If he is not allowed these times of leisure and quiet the community to which his works would have been presented is impoverished by this loss. Whether the creative person expresses himself through poetry, prose, painting, music, or in other ways matters little. What is of importance is the greater insight into rea~lity which those who share in his creations come to possess. Religious who are expected to be aware of the sl~iritual aspect oLlife should value highly these expres-sions of the spirit of things. Religious communities should provide opportunities for these creations to hap-pen. This requires that each sister show respect for the need of the creative sister for periods of silence not needed by other sisters. Michael Sweetman, "Silence," p. 432. Somewhat related to creative activity is the aesthetic appreciation of art and culture in its various forms. This also frequently requires a type of silence. Serious music cannot be fully experienced if other noises interfere. WatChing serious or cultural television programs loses much of its value if it is frequently interrupted by talk-ing or other noises. It often happens that the insight gained by exposure to a particular art expression or a fascinating idea produces an inability to express the new insight until it has been integrated into the person receiving it. Respect for this period of inarticulation should be shown by those who may not, for a. variety of reasons, have felt this experience. Again since sisters are expected to be cultured, they should automatically perceive situations in which silence is called for in order to provide the spirit with the quiet needed for apprecia-tion. This would be true even if the sister herself had a low level of appreciation since consideration for others present should be shown. Possibly the lower level of cultural appreciation could be. raised by more frequent exposure to cultural events. Another very important type of silence is the receptive silence needed for listening. From all sides the cry for the need to listen is heard. Certainly this is also a need in religious communities where persons are striving for unity with each other to provide an example for the rest of mankind. There can be no real community with-out real listening. The religious who is able to listen to the real message her sisters are communicating to her and who is able to respond to their needs in an in-dividual way without passing judgment is invaluable to her community. It can be seen that the functional uses of silence are many. If a religious intends to satisfy the various needs which call for some type of silence she must look at her personal life and decide when, where, and how much silence she should have. Since each individual in a community does not need the same amount or kind of silence, what kind of legisla-tion should there be in the rules of religious orders con-cerning silence? It may be helpful to consider the article on silence as it now appears in the Constitutions of the Presentation Sisters to see if it promotes functional silence. Article 121 of the Modified Articles of the Con-stitution calls for silence after evening recreation, "dur-ing the time when not actively engaged in assigned duties or at recreation," 29 and at meals. Each of these will be discussed separately. / ~ ModiIied Articles of the Constitutions oI the Congregation ol the Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin MaT, May 1, 1966, p. 5. VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ Sister ~oann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~o The value of silence at meals is being questioned more and more: "We have to re-evaluate the pattern of so much silence connected with eating in religious com-munities. Eating is a social activity." a0 The social aspect of a meal is hard to miss. Usually it is one of the few times the religious community is together. It is an opportunity to begin the personal relationships which later can be deepened by more intimate and serious conversation. The value of the reading done at table can also be questioned. As Fathers Evoy and Christoph have, said, the reading is often merely tolerated or if someone is trying to listen he is distracted by the clatter of dishes, a poor reader, or the eating itself. Their comment on silence at lunch can also be applied to meals: If I have to stand up and just eat in silence, it breeds this attitude: "You are in the world, and I am in the world. Don't interrupt me. Don't disturb me. I am communicating with God." But I am not. I am just dying to say somethingmsome-thing worthwhile.= Possibly the effort required to develop good table con-versation would require much more self-discipline and unselfishness than keeping silence. Many sisters need practice in the art of general conversation. Table discus-sions could provide for this practice. The practice of night silence is an example of a regu-lation which belongs to another age: Again, it is a matter of suiting the need of the times. Sisters, there was a time in this country and in Europe when after evening recreation the whole day was over, and the great silence started. This was sensible because the Superior did not want the Sisters just chatting away all evening, and they really h~d little else to do. Ours is another age.a-" The milieu of today is very much orientated toward evening activities. Most culture events and many meet-ings take place in the evening. The stress and tension of the day's work just begin to lessen in the evening. The increased demands of modern life as compared to medie-val life must be considered: These create tensions which require more than just occa-sional breaks from the common order, or we are going to go berserk . I think we should take another look at some of the strictures that are made on our so-called "breaking of silence." = With the ever increasing need for discussion of new ideas and re-evaluation of the old, as well as an increased need for communication in order to develop deeper rela- =John 'J. Evoy and Van F. Christoph, Maturity in the Religious ¯ LiIe, p. 279. = Ibid, p. 278. m Ibid, p. 303. m Ibid, p. 303. tionships among religious, more time must be found in which to satisfy these needs: Your leisure should be able to provide you with opportunity, at least, for a "gab session." You should be able to com-municate, because there are many areas in which you cannot think richly and productively unless you are communicating with other persons.~' When we get together,it is in recreation or in silence or in prayers. The recreation is too formalized at times even to be recreating so we need that freedom to talk. to fellow religious as long as we are not gossiping.~ The only opportunity for this kind of talking often comes after nine o'clock. Instead of legislating a time for night silence, a silence of discretion and of charity should be kept. This would mean a consideration for those who have already retired as well as those doing work needing silence. In order to provide a reorientation of the complete person directly to God at the close of the day, Compline and preparation for morning meditation could be made privately by each sister before she goes to bed. The counsel to observe silence at all times when not active in assigned duties or recreation seems to be the antithesis of functional silence. It does not take into ac-count the freedom of speech which is necessary for the mature growth of the sister into a person able to express herself in a charitable, intellectual, and cultural way. Instead it seems to oblige silence for the sake of silence and presupposes that absolute silence is needed for rec-ollection. As religious communities mature and individual reli-gious are made more and more responsible for their own actions there should be less need for legislation on silence. It should be possible to educate the sisters in the value and functional use of silence rather than to legislate the times and places of silence. If a group feels the need for definite regulations these should be decided on a local level. In speaking of her ideal community Judith Tare says: "But there are no set periods for prescribing silence in this ideal community. Loving awareness of the needs of others, particularly at night, provides the guidelines for that kind of quiet." 36 There will always be those who will be too immature or negligent to take the responsibility for silence themselves. However, the regulations set up for the whole community should not be made just to protect these people. If this is done the community as a whole will fail to reach the higher level of maturity of which the majority of the members are capable. 3~ Ibid, p. 277-8. an Ibid, p. 231. ~Judith Tate, O.S.B., Sisters [or the World (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966), p. 127. + Approach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 22] As stated in the title of this paper, an attempt has been made to present one position or view on silence. It seems to be a position which has. basis .in Scripture and history as well as one suited to modem life. If there are some who hold another view of silence it is hoped that they will be willing to present their ideas, keeping in mind what the Council fathers have said about lawful div~er.siiy: "Hence, let there be unity in what is necessary, freedom in what is unsettled, and charity in any case." aT If this can be done then each sister no matter what her views may be, will be able to follow the recommendation of St. Paul: "Whatever you do in word or in work, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him" (Col 3:17). ~ Walter Abbott, s.J., The Documents "o1 Fatica~ H New York: Guild Press, 1966, p. 306~ ÷ ÷ ÷ SistePr.B ]o.Fan.Mn,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 222 THOMAS DHBAY, S.M. Indwelling Transfiguring Consummation Any* living being is best appreciated in its final com-pletion. The rose plant does. not. fully enchant the eye as it grows through its six-inch stage but only as it blooms with scarlet exuberance. The dignity of the hu-man person is not entirely apparent at the age of two months but only when a fullness of days has brought wisdom and virtue. ,The indwelling mystery in the newly baptized infant is a subject worthy of reflection, but it is far more impressive when considered in the contemplative mystic. This we have already studied: But even the contemplation ot earth, unspeakable as it is, is but a dim prelude of the final issue of the divine inhabitation when the abiding Guests shall be seen face to face. St. Paul's description of supernatural wisdom as surpassing man's wildest imagination is especially relevant to the indwelling of the beatific vision: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 1 Indwelling Vision In a definition both simple find majestic Benedict XII declared that the souls of the blessed "see the divine essence by an intuhive and'even facial vision without the intermed~ation of any creature acting as a seen principle. Rather they see the divine nature showing it-self unveiled, clearly, openly. By this vision they enjoy the divine essence, and from this vision and fruition ¯ Previous articles in this series were published in REWEW FOE RELIC~OUS, v. 26 (1967), pp. 203--30 ("Indwelling God: Old Testament Preparation'); pp. 441-60 ("Interindwelling: New Testament Com-pletion'); pp.632-50 ("Indwelling Dynamism'); pp. 910-38 ("Eu-charist, Indwelling, Mystical Body'); pp. 1001-23 ("Indwelling Sum-mit'); and v, 27 (1968), pp. 21-45 ("Virginal Temples'). 1 1 Cot 2:9. Thomas Dubay, S.M., is a faculty member of Mary-crest College; Dav-enport, Iowa; ad-dress: Box 782; Bettendorf, Iowa 52722. VOLUME 27, 1968 223 4. 4. Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS their souls are truly happy." 2 The Council of Florence taught .that the souls of the blessed see the very inner life of the Trinity as such: "They gaze .clearly upon God, three and one, just as He is." 3 This clear, direct, open sight of the divine nature obviously implies the supreme perfection of the indwell-ing presence, for how could man gaze upon the Trinity with the mediation of no creature unless the divine es-sence were immediately present to his intellect? So true is this that Leo XIII said that the divine indwelling of earth differs from that of heaven "only in condition or state." 4 They are ~ubstantially the same mystery differ-ing as incomplete to complete, obscure knowledge to clear vision, interrupted love to continual love, imper-fect enjoyment to perfect enjoyment, bud to bloom. The Scriptural Account Before we explore the implications of these magiste-rial statements, we must first look into the biblical de-posit and note how all "the doctrinal essentials are al-ready contained in the divine self-revelation. Although many Scripture scholars hold (or did hold)5 that in the old dispensa.tion God did not as a matter of fact reveal the ultimate destiny of man, we are not doing violence to the ancient revelation in seeing old texts in the light of the new. If the Old Testament does not contain a revelation of the beatific vision, it at least contains a number of statements that are most fully realized only in our indwelling mystery of the patria.n The Book of Wisdom simply and gracefully describes the final blessedness of those who have suffered well on earth: The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was judged an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; chastised a littl.e, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. The Lord shall be their king forever. The faithful shall abide with him in love.7 ~ DB 530. 8 DB 693. *"Haec autem mira coniunctio, quae suo nomine inhabitatio dicitur, conditione tantum seu statu ab ea discrepans qua caelites Deus beando complectitur." Divinum illud munus, Acta Sanctae Sedis, v. 29 (1896-1897), p. 653. ~ Recent discoveries at Urgarit strongly suggest that the beatific vision was as a matter of fact revealed to the Hebrews; see Dahood's discussion of the Psalms in the "Anchor Bible." 6Ps 15:11; 16:15; 35:9-10; 48:16. 7 Wis 3:1-9. The New Testament is brief and clear in its revela-tion of the indwelling presence of vision. We shall rise in our bodies because of the Spirit lodged within. "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you," declares St. Paul, "then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." s We are destined to be forever in the presence of the Trinity and to enjoy the very inner trinitarian life: "In my Fa-ther's house there are many mansions. Were it not so, I should have told you, because I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I am coming again, and I will take you to myself; that where I am, there you also may be. Father, I will that where I am, they also whom thou hast given me may be with me; in order that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me. Well done, good and faithful servant; because thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many; enter into the joy of thy master." 9 This presence and this joy imply a gazing upon the very face of God, knowing the divine essence face-to-face, clearly, just as it is: "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God. Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God, and him whom thou hast sent, Jesus Christ. We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known. Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is. And I heard a loud voice fro~ the throne say, 'Behold the dwelling of God with men, and he will dwell with them. And they will be his people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. And death shall be no more; neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.' " 10 All this shall be so splendid that we have nothing in this life with which to compare it: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 11 Think, suggests Paul, of the most brilliant sunset you have ever seen--it is not like the wisdom of God. Re-call the most soothing melody you have ever heard--it 8 Rom 8:11. aJn 14:2-3; 17:24; Mt 25:21. ~ Mt 5:8; Jn 17:3; 1 Cor 13:12; 1 Jn 3:2; Apoc 22:3-5. u 1 Cot 2:9. The beatific vision is the culmination of all wisdom in the Christ economy. What is true o1~ obscurely seen wisdom on earth is all the more true of facial vision. ÷ ÷ ÷ Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 225 Thomas Dubay $.M. REV~EWFOR REHG~OUS is nothing compared to the divine harmony. Imagine the most charming, innocent, pure maiden's face that has ever rejoiced your eye it is dullness next :to the splen-dor of what lies ahead. Yes, "eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." Indwelling Presence We commonly say of a person who has just died that he has gone to God. Literally and in a bodily sense he has gone nowhere. We mean that his soul, released as it is from its union with the body, is no longer in time but in eternity. It has "gone" to its particular judgment "before God." This going before God is an appearing,: a manner of speaking, a metaphor. We are expressing a change in state by what is so familiar to us, a change in place. Except for the case of the risen body--for a body is in a place,---our expression, "going to heaven," means the possession of .the intuitive vision of the Trinity. If a man dies without the need of purgatory's cleansing, his . "going to heaven" is simply a dropping of the veil, a transformation from the state of the indwelling Trinity not seen to the state of the indwelling Trinity seen. The one presence continues from time into eternity, ~rom faith into clear knowledge, ta'om inchoate love and joy to consummate love and joy. The beatific vision is nothing other than the indwelling mystery in its final completion: an indwelling, but no longer a dark mystery. "God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and Gbd in him. When he appears, we shall be like ~o him, for we shall see him just as he'is," la that is, the triune God abiding in our s6uls. . A moment's reflection immediately shows why the beatific vision must involve an indwelling presence. As a matter of fact, the knowledge of the divine object in this facial vision must be closer to man than any other object he has ever known. Any knowledge requires the immaterial presence of the known within the knower. My knowledge of a tree demands an intentional, mental, representational presence of the tree in my mind. Other-wise I could not possibly know it. However, the tree is not present in "its material being. It remains itself in its own place, but at the same time it does take up an ideal presence in my imagination, and intellect. Knowledge demands a presence of the known object within the knower. In the beatific vision this knowledge.-demanding-pres-ence principle attains its perfect fulfillment, for God is ~ l'Jn 4:16; 3:2. immediately present in His own being without the aid of a representational idea to express Him. I know the tree through the aid of an idea expressing the tree, but no created idea can express God as He is in.'Himself. Any created idea, because created, must be more unlike God than like Him. He is infinite, never exhaustible; the idea is always finite, easily exhaustible. If the Trinity is known as it is, it must be by an idealess, immediate union with the human_ intellect. Because there can be no created idea between the human intellect and "the di-vine reality, the latter is more intimately present to man in .the beatific vision than anything man has ever known. It was St. Thomas' judgment that "no creature can come more close to God than in seeing His substance." la The beatific vision, therefore, is the indwelling pres-ence at its ultimate pinnacle. It is a presence singular, unique, ineffable. It is the maturation of the whole su-pernatural economy. We must, therefore, examine more closely this con-summation of our mystery. Essential Glory.: Vision , By what precisely does the soul possess the° Trinity in the facial presence of eternal life? All theologians agree that total essential glory consists in seeing, loving, and enjoying Father, Son, and Spirit, but they do not agree as to which of these three operation.s is the crucial one. St. Thomas held that the intellectual vision is flae es-sential act of glory because it is by knowing that man possesses God, and this knowing is the root reason he can also love and enjoy. Scotus held that the essential act is love because love is :the .most perfect of man's operations and unites him really and not merely inten-tionally with the beloved. Knowing in this view is merely a condition of love and joy. Aureolus placed the core of beatitude in delight because it is only by delight that man is completely satiated. Suarez plied a middle course in proposing that essential glory is a combina-tion of vision and the love of friendship. His reason was that both knowledge and love are needed for a perfect possession. And further, delight supposes both of them. We believe that the view of the Angelic, Doctor is the preferable, and that for several reasons. It seems to us that the dominant scriptural evidences point to vision as the root of our final glorification: "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see. God. Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God. We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I-know ih part, but Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.62, n.lO. 4" ÷ ÷ VOLUME'27, 1968 227 ÷ ÷ Thomas Duba~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS then I shall know even as I have been known. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see 'him just as he is." a4 The .basic theological reason behind this position points to knowledge as that by which the blessed possess God. Love and joy suppose the presence of the Trinity and it is by the intellectual act that this special pres-ence is effected. While we do not deny that love and delight are necessary to perfect happiness, we submit that their root must be vision, since one cannot love and enjoy what he does not know. Hence, the first root o~ essential glory itself must be the intuitive sight o[ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Suarez' attempt at conciliation is commendable but inadequate. If intellect and will bear diverse relations to essential glory, they can hardly both be the root of it. Garrigou-Lagrange pointed to the weakness of the Suarezian view: Intelligence and will are two faculties, specifically distinct, and therefore unequal. The will is subordinated to the in-telligence which directs it. The will is carried on to a true real good, but only on condition that it follows the right judgment of the intellect, a judgment conformable to reality. We desire only what we know, and we do not rejoice except in a good which we possess. Joy does not constitute the possession, but presupposes the possession. Hence, intelligence and will are not equal in the possession of God. They arise in order, one after the other. By vision the soul possesses God. By love it enjoys Him, rests in Him, prefers Him to itself.1" Our faith on earth is so orientated to eventual vision that one who believes may be said already to possess final glory in its seed: "He who believes in the Son has everlasting file." 16 Just as faith is the first step in the divine encounter on earth, so is vision .the first root o[ its final completion in heaven. Light o[ Glory The sight of God in His intimate triune nature is so staggering an activity that no creature, no most lofty angel, no Mary even can by native power attain it. So truly does this God dwell in a light inaccessible that no wildest hope of man could grasp even a flickering spark of it. For He is "the blessed and only sovereign, the king of kings and lord of lords, who alone has immortality and dwells in light inaccessible, whom no man has seen or can see.17 If, then, man is to attain one day to the indwelling :*Mt 5:8; Jn 17:3; I Cor 13:12; I Jn 3:2. LiIe Everlasting, p. 221. X°Jn 3:36; see also Jn 5:24 and 6:47 for the same idea. Tim 6:15-6. consummation of direct sight, his intellect must neces-sarily be elevated above its utter native incapacity in order to be able to make the leap into infinite beauty. The gap between creature and Creator is limitless. Only God can bridge it. Only He can do something to the created intellect to make the intuitive vision possible. Only Light can cause light. What He does to the intel-lect theologians call the light of glory. And it is the light of glory that transforms the divine inhabitation from the realm of faith to that of vision. Sacred Scripture furnishes a basis for our theological speculations. Although we cannot confidently hold that the ancient Hebrew knew much about the beatific vi-sion, we can assert that he said many things that fit this vision as a glove fits a hand. Among his remarks we may single out as singularly appropriate here the words of Psalm 35:9-10: "From your delightful stream you give them to drink. For with you is the fountain of life, and in your light we see light." It is eminently true that man drinks of the best gifts of the Trinity's delightful stream when finally he drinks from the intuitive vision of .the divine essence. This is the fountain of life, everlasting life. And it is precisely in the divine light that we see light. It is the Word who enlightens the intellect of all men both on eart'hxs and in heaven that they may believe by faith and see in vision. The eternal city needs no creaturely light for this same incarnate Word is its light and the blessed live by the light He gives: "The city has no need of the sun or the moon to shine upon it. For the glory of God lights it up, and the Lamb is the lamp thereof. And night shall be no more, and they shall have no need of light of lamp, or light of sun, for the Lord God will shed light upon them; and they shall reign forever and ever." 19 What is this light of glory that so transfigures the human intellect that man beholds his divine Guests just as they are? It is called light, surely, not because it is a refined sort of energized quanta, but because by analogy with natural light which makes colors and bodies visi-ble it renders the divine essence "seeable" by the created intellect. This lumen gloriae is not uncreated Light, pure intelligibility, subsistent truth, God. Rather it is a created participation in uncreated Light. It is drawn from our supernature, sanctifying grace, and it perfects and elevates the intellect intrinsically, thus rendering it apt for the intuitive vision. The knowing strength of the created intellect is completely unable of itself to reach out and bridge the infinite gap between it and subsist- ~Jn 1:9. 1~ Apoc 21:23-4; 22:5. ÷ ÷ ÷ Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 4. Thomm $.~. REVIEW FOR' RELIGIOUS ~0 ent light and so the latter must bend down and raise the Creaturely intellect to the level of the beatific vision and render, it capable of "attaining the divine essence. We may say, too, that the light of glory disposes.the in-tellect for union with the divine essence as the im-pressed species disposes the same. intellect for the act of natural knowledge. Because of this disposition the splen-dor of the divine essence will not dazzle or wound the intellect (as the sun wounds sight .if directly gazed upon), for the intellect is not a sense and it has been elevated. So marvelous is this elevation that it makes man godlike and hence a very member of the divine family: "Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is." 20 In the act of vision, however, there is no impressed species that determines the intellect, no created simili-tude that takes the place of. or represents God, for noth-ing created can represent Him as He is. Even the most perfect created likeness of God must be more unlike than like Him. Rather the divine essence itself takes the place of the species of similitude, but it does not inform the intellect as an accident. Moreover, the divine essence also takes the place of the expressed species, that is, the concept or idea produced by the intellect and in which the intellect knows a created object. In the beatific vision there is no created word or concept, because if there were, knowledge of earth and knowledge of heaven would differ only in degree, not in kind. And further, the presence of a created idea between the intellect and the Trinity would weaken if not destroy the immediacy and directness Sacred Scripture demands in the terms it uses. to de-scribe essential glory: "face to face.as I have been known., just as he is." Clear Intuition The knowledge of faith is essentially dark, obscure, in a mirror--and a very imperfect mirror at that. The knowledge of vision is essentially bright, clear, direct. The New Testament itself insists on this contrast: "We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known.Always full of courage, ~then, and knowing that while .we are in the body we are exiled from the Lord--for we walk by faith and notby sight." 21 , " 1 Jn $:2. zt I Cor 13:12; 2 Cor 5:6-7. What does this clarity mean? Severa! things. We have already remarked that in the beatific vision the blessed do not see God as represented in some bril-liant idea they form of Him. No matter how brilliant a created idea may be, it shall always be more unlike God than like Him. Hence, dear intuition means that noth-ing will stand between the intellect and the divine es-sence. After the hypostatic union there is no physical intimacy with the divine .so dose as the indwelling of vision. Clarity means likewise that the knowledge of the blessed will not be through effects produced by God in creation or in the soul. Knowledge through effects is highly imperfect and obscure. If one saw footsteps on a beach leading to a discarded suit of clothes, a pair of gloves, a watch, and if he had no knowledge at all of the human creature as we know him, he might with some accuracy conclude to the passage of a moving two-footed animal approximately o six feet tall and endowed with intelligence. But his. insight into this strange fellow would be quite imperfect, obscure. Knowledge through effects-is anything but clear. In our example it would be opposed to sitting down with this newly discovered human being, touching him, gazing at him and espe-cially speaking with him and learning what he had ~to say of himself. Vision knowledge is dear. It is face to face, a seeing just.as the object is. Such is the blessed's grasp of the Trinity. Earthbound darkness and obscurity and reasoning are gone. Just clear, intuitive, direct experience. The blessed see the threeness of persons in the unity of nature and they understand that to be God, God must be a trinity: three in person, one in nature. They see the Father in His eternal now begetting His Son in a perfectly intellectual and virginal generation. They see Father and Son breathing forth in mutual love their Gift, the Spirit. They see the Son in the bosom of His Father and His Spirit, the Father in Son and Spirit, and the Spirit in Father and Son. They see this God "just as He is," and lodged in the deepest center of their subjectivity. Non-comprehensiveness We are not God. And only God can sound the depths o[ God. When we say that the blessed see the divine Trinity just as it is, we do not mean that the created elevated intellect can exhaust the inexhaustible. The term, comprehensor, can have two meanings: (1) one who possesses an object by vision; (2) one who sees into an object as far as it is seeable. In the first sense one comprehends when he grasps some truth, say, the simple structure of an atom. In the second sense he compre- 4- VOLUME 27, Z968 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS hends everything knowable about the atom. Some men comprehend the atom in the first sense; no man com-prehends it in the second. The elevated intellect of the blessed grasps the Trinity in the first sense but not in the second. Even the soul of Christ does not comprehend the divine essence exhaustively32 The finite cannot en-compass the infinite3~ Yet this raises a problem. How can we reconcile this nonexhaustiveness of essential glory with the simplicity of God? It would seem that if one sees an utterly part-less, simple being at all, he would have to see Him comprehensively. Theologians would ask, how can God be known "totus sed non totaliter--whole but not wholly?" The usual answer is that the infinite simplicity of God demands that He be known totus, whole, for other-wise He would not be seen "just as He is." But consider-ing the principle of the vision, the created intellect raised by the light of glory, the act cannot drink all of the divine intelligibility, non totaliter, not wholly: "Every being is knowable to the extent that it is a being in act. God, therefore, whose to be is infinite is infinitely knowable. Now no created intellect can know God infinitely." ~4 Degrees in Glory An immediate consequence of the inexhaustibility of the divine Trinity is the possibility of created intellects and wills knowing, loving, and enjoying Him in vary-ing degrees. If a fountain were endlessly deep, diversely shaped buckets could draw varying amounts of water. So with the Fountain. But tempting as this explanation may be, the reason the blessed drink diversely is not that their intellects are differently "shaped," that is, of un-equal natural capacities, for essential glory is no natural matter. Nor does the diversity arise from the object seen, for it is one and .the same Trinity. Nor is our problem explained by supposing more or less perfect similitudes of God---there are none in the beatific vision. The ex-planation must be related to merit and grace, for these are the roots of glory. St. Thomas offers several reasons for the diversity among the elect. Since the light of glory is a principle of the vision, and since the measure of this light is the measure of the vision, and since there are degrees in the perfection of this light, one soul is more completely m The Council of Basle condemned a proposition affirming this idea. ~ This non-comprehensiveness of the beatific vision is indicated too by the inequality in the perfection of the vision among the elect. --4 I, q.12, a.7. enlightened than another even though both see the same Trinity:25 "Therefore, the intellect participating more in the light of glory will see God more perfectly. But he will participate more in the light of glory who has the greater love, because where love is greater, desire is also the greater and desire in some fashion makes the desirer apt and fit for receiving the sought object. Hence, he who has more love will see God more perfectly and be more happy." 26 Approaching the problem from another point of view, Thomas points out that in any type of reality in which one thing causes another like it (for example, fire and heat) that which is closest to the supreme source of the perfection shares most in it. Because God most perfectly sees Himself, the soul closest to Him Will participate most in His light. From still another vantage point the Angelic Doctor notes that since the end is proportioned to the means, those who are better prepared by the means (in this case, the virtues) will share more in the end, in this case the intellectual vision, love and delight in the divine substance.2Z Eternal Novelty The intuitive vision of the Trinity dwelling in the bosom of the elect is never dull. Even more, it cannot be dull. Created joys can become commonplace, stale, flat, wearying, but never this one. The weariness and even disgust that arise in extended sense pleasures are due to an overstimulation of an expendable (because material) faculty. Such overstimulation, however, is im-possible in any purely intellectual activity because there is nothing material in it, and especially is it impossible in the purely intellectual activity of the beatific vision, for the divine substance, far from weakening the in-tellect, marvelously perfects it. In this vision there is never a lessening of delight and joy.2s This same conclusion can be reached from a consider-ation of the inexhaustible beauty of the Trinity. "Noth-ing," remarks St. Thomas, "that is gazed upon with won-der can be distasteful, because as long as wonder remains, desire does also. The divine substance is always seen with wonder by any created intellect because no created intellect comprehends it. Therefore it is impos-sible that an intellectual substance would find that vi-sion become dull." 29 On an infinitely lower level we can Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.58. I, q.12, a.6. Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.58. Ibid., c.62, n.7. Ibid., n.8. 4. 4. 4- Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 233 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS see this reasoning in'the differences in hhman personali-ties. A dull person' soon tires us with his conversation and presence~ while one deeply rich in talent, knowledge, and goodness charms us for hours on end. Because He is infinitely rich God charms the blessed for an infinite eternity. St. Bonax;enture encourages the wayfarer with the prospect of this radiance unadorned: Then shall your delight overflow in that unspeakable vision of the divine brilliance; then will you marvel at the joyous realization of your own splendor; then will you be magnified in the perfect knowledge of all creatures. 0 stupendous and wonderful contemplationl O delightful and charming vis, ion! O joyful and unutterable sight.~ Love Fulfillment The psychological experience of men indicates that the knowledge of a good and beautiful person is nor-mally followed by the disposition to love. But no matter how good or beautiful the creature may be we always remain free to choose the act of love or not. Love for a created person does not necessarily follow on the knowl-edge of him. In the beatific vision, however, the elect are so enthralled by their experience that they neces-sarily embrace the three indwelling Guests in the act of beatific love. Loves on earth are free because they al-ways follow on the perception of an imperfect good (which as such cannot necessitate the will) or i~t least a good that is viewed as mixed with some hardship or dis-advantage. But the love that flows out of the intuition of unmixed, perfect goodness is necessary It is also continual---one eternal, uninterrupted act. The.beatific love of Father, Soia, and Holy Spirit is not interfered with by other acts and affections of the blessed because the divine essence clearly seen is the mo-tive for all these other activities. The love-clasp with the indwelling Trinity is, therefore, the perfect fulfillment of man's desire to love and be loved. It is es~pecially here that St. Paul's observation is .true, "he who clea-~es to the Lord is one spirit with him." al The blessed clings to his triune God abiding in his soul through one eternal love rooted in the divine loveableness sought both for itself and for the blessed. This love is likewise total. Man is absorbed in ,the Trinity as a sponge is saturated in an ocean. When St. Thomas discusses the totality of beatific love he makes three distinctions because there are three elements ifi the act of love: the lov~r, the beloved, and the love. If the totality of beatific love refers to the last named, that is, ~ Soliloquium, c.2, n.25. ~ I Cor 6:17. to the act of love, the elect do not love God totally, be-cause the measure of the act of love is taken in a com-parison between the lover's capacity and the beloved's goodness. Obviously the divine goodness infinitely sur-passes the creature's capacity to love it. In this sense only God can love Himself totally. But if totality refers to the 'beloved, the elect do love the Trinity totally, because there is nothing in the divine essence that they do not see and love. Beatific love clasps the whole that is God. So also if totality is understood of the lover, the blessed do love totally, since, they withhold nothing of their capacity to embrace Father, Son, and Spirit.as They pour out their whole being in this perduringly final consummation of the great commandment, for now in-deed do they love the Lord their God with their whole heart and with their whole soul and with their whole strength and with their whole mind. Continuous Actuality More needs to be said of the uninterrupted actuality of the interpersonal relations of eternity. The beatific vision is poles apart from the Buddhist nirvana. In the latter concept there is a loss of personal consciousness as one is absorbed into the divine. Christian essential glory cannot be oblivion; it cannot even be a passive state. It tingles with actuality. Any being is perfect insofar as it is actual, since a mere potentiality is imperfection. But by definition es-sential glory or beatitude is man's last and consummate perfection. Now the last and ultimate perfection of any agent is to operate'---so much so that a thing exists for the sake of its operation. Therefore, since man is very much an agent and especially so through his intellect and will, his ultimate destiny cannot be a mere inert-ness, nor even a mere habit. It must be an intense but calm act. Our destiny is dynamic. The perfection of this calm intensity requires that it be unique and continuous. Our happiness on earth is neither unique nor continuous nor everlasting, for we are engaged in one round of a hundred different activi-ties ~rom one end of the day to the other. Because hap-piness is the more perfect as it is more one and con-tinuous, "there is (even on earth) less happiness in the active life, whida is concerned about many things, than in the contemplative, which deals with one, that is the contemplation of truth." 3~ In this unin.terrupted actuality of vision man finally 3 Sent., dist.27, q.3, a.2. 1-2, q.3, a.2, ad 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 27, 1968 4. + Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS reaches an entire fulfillment of the crucial command-ment of the Christian dispensation, the love of God with one's whole soul, mind, heart, and strength. It is in this essential glory that the rational creature will love God with his whole heart, when his entire purpose is directed to God in all that he thinks, loves, or does; with his whole mind, when his mind always and actually is borne toward God in seeing Him continually and judging all things in Him according to the divine truth; with his whole soul, when all his affection is directed to loving God continuously and all other things are loved for His sake; with all his strength and powers, when the reason for all his ex-terior acts will be the love of God.u The elect's communion with his inabiding God is, there-fore, a consummate perfection of continuous actuality. Eternal Nozo When Sacred Scripture refers to our final victory it uses a variety of words to indicate its unfailing charac-ter: everlasting, imperishable, eternal, unfading: "These will go into everlasting punishment, but the just into everlasting life. And everyone in a contest abstains from all things--and they indeed to receive a perishable ~rown, but we an imperishable.Our present light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measures; while we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal . When the Prince of the shepherds appears, you will receive .the unlading crown of glory." 35 Our indwelling delight that awaits us, therefore, is not merely future. It is a limitless, unending, non-successive joy in perfect good. It is a drinking of beauty, a seeing of light that known no termination. Beatitude would not be man's last end, his entire ful-fillment, if it were not perpetual. We necessarily desire to live and love and delight forever. If we were to sus-pect that the beatific love might cease even after a bil-lion ages, a clond would be cast over the experience. Furthermore, a cessation in any vision must be due either (a) to a failure in the human faculty, or (b) to the will of the one seeing not to see, or (c) to a removal of the object seen. But none of these is possible in the elect who gaze upon the Trinity lodged in their souls. Their intellect as a spiritual faculty is incapable of cor-ruption and failure and so is the light of glory which elevates it. The elect cannot will not to contemplate the loveliness of their inabiding Lord any more than they Thomas Aquinas, De perlectione vitae spiritualis, c.4. Mt 25:46; 1 Cor 9:25; 2 Cor 4:17-8; 1 Pt 5:4. could wish to be unhappy. They are clinging to limitless beauty and cannot let go. Nor can the object of their contemplation be removed, for God cannot change and He will not withdraw what He has given as long as we do not first withdraw from Him.3~ And, as we have just noted, the elect cannot withdraw from their cling-ing to the Trinity. The Angelic Doctor delved even more deeply into this mystery of man's participation in the eternity of the eternal when he pointed out that the elects' immobile enjoyment of the Trinity derives from the intimacy of their union with immobility itself: The more anything is close to God, who is utterly immutable, the less is it mutable and the more is it persevering. But no creature can draw more closely to God than in seeing His sub-stance. Therefore, the intellectual creature who sees the sub-stance of God attains a supreme immobility and consequently cannot ever fall away from that vision.~7 We may describe the eternity of beatific joy by styling it a new moment that is always new. It is a simultaneous entirety always freshly crisp. It is forever novel in the best sense of the term. The tangible pleasures of earth are exactly the opposite. They soon wilt and grow old. They are always successive and therefore partial in their very nature~ They soon lose their freshness and novelty; eventually they bore. "Everyone in a contest abstains from all things--and they indeed to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable. We look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal." 3~ Harmony of Impeccabilit7 Implicit in all that we have just said is the calm pro-portion, tranquil integrity, smooth harmony flowing into the elect's being from the sight of Father, Son, and Spirit. The blessed cannot see God and leave Him. They cannot sin. On earth we can know God by reason and faith and still offend Him. We can even reject Him. But this is due to the fact that our knowledge is obscure, partial, as in an imperfect mirror. We do not now see beauty just as He is. In the intuitive vision of eternity, however, the elect see the very essence of goodness with no admixture of disadvantage or difficulty. It is a clear, complete en-counter with goodness itself. The will is filled. It cannot say no. It cannot sin. Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.62, n.5. Ibid., n.10. I Cot 9:25; 2 Cor 4:18. + + VOLUME 27, 1908 4. 4. 4. Thomas Dubay $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Completing De, light The consummating perfection of indwelling glory is delight. The blessed cling to the Trinity with their in-tellects and love their Guests with their wills, Crowning this essential glory is the consequent joy, a sharing in the very joy of the Lord: "Enter into the joy of thy~ master," He will tell us.89 It is an unimaginable good: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what~.things God has prepared for those who love him." 40 This delight is not the essence of beatitude but a con-comitant of it. Delight is joined to beatitude as conse-quent upon it, as a consummation of it.41 It completes Vision and love as beauty Completes youth and vigor. Though we on earth can never reach an adequate appreciation of this crowning delight, we can deepen our understanding by contrasting it with what a merely natural last end for the human race would have been. Had there been no elevation to the supernatural grace-glory economy, our knowledge of God would have been the inferred, partial, obscure reflection of the divine in creation. Our love would have been natural, too, based on this effects-to-cause understanding. Our joy could not have transcended the same plane. Our actual destiny, however, unimaginably surpasses all this. The knowledge of the elect is not partial, ob-scure, effect-to-cause, but a'direct seeing of the Cause in Himself just as He is. Their love corresponds to this vastly superior knowing and is itself necessarily more in-tense, more lofty, more supremely delightful. It is a very entrance into the joy Of the Master, a godly thing, a thrust into the very bosom Qf joy. It is an experience that defies all description, fo~: man cannot imagine what things God has prepared for those who love Him. He has prepared Himselfl Risen 'Body , Though the beatific vision is essential glory, it is not all'of our indwelling mystery of eternity. The temple of the. Trinity is itself to be transfigured body and soul, that it might become at last a worthy habitation for the divine purity within. It is a transfiguration modeled after the very pattern of the risen body of the Word, who "will refashion the body of our lowliness, conform-ing it to the body of his glory." 42 It is a glorification like. that of Jesus who "was transfigured before them. Mt 25:21. 1 Cot 2:9. 1-2, q.3, a.4, c. Phil 3:21. And his face shone as the sun, and his garments b~- came white as snow." 43 It is a state described by St. Paul when he said that "thEre is one glory~bf the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another of the stars; for star differs from star in glory. So also with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown in corruption rises in incorruption; .what is sown in dishonor rises in glory; what is sown in weakness rises in power; what is sown a natural body rises a spiritual body." 44 Our risen temples shall be incorruptible, impassible, brilliant, agile, spiritualized--and all because of the Spirit within them: "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." 48 The qualities of the risen body shall stem ~rom the perfection of its subjection to the soul. The original body-soul harmony found in the innocent Adam will be restored together with gifts even he never had. And all of this will be caused by the indwelling Spirit. The soul is transfigured by the facial sight of the indwelling Trinity and the transformed soul in turn transfigures the body. The transfiguration is passed.from one to the other in a manner analogous to that in which a glowing red coal receives fire from a cause and then transmits its glow to a second coal. St. Paul closely ties the transfiguring spiritualization of the risen body to 'the indwelling mysteky: it is the Spirit within Who spiritualizes man's flesh even on earth. and causes his eventual resurrection in heaven: "You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. But if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Ghrist from the dead will also bririg to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit Who dwells in you." 40 By some mysterious power the abiding Spirit shall so transfigure our mortal temples that they will shed the imperfections of their earthly state. What qualities shall the indwelling Spirit leave in His risen temple? Theology follows St. Paul and distin-ghishes four. The gift of subtility is a more complete subjection of the body to the spirit so that the risen body no longer impedes the activities of the Spirit. For St. Thomas sub-tility does not include the power of the risen body to be in the same place with another body, since this gift does not remove dimensions from the body and it is ~s Mt 17:2. u 1 Cor 15:41-4. ~s Rom 8:11. ~e Rom 8:9,11. VOLUME 27, 1968 239 4, 4, 4, Thomas Duba~ S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS due to dimensive quantity that bodies must occupy diverse sites. Hence, the power of the risen body to penetrate another material being arises from a special divine intervention. Other theologians, however, see compenetration as a consequence of the gift of subtil-ity. Though the risen body continues to resist other bodies (Christ could be touched after the Resurrection), at the same time it can Penterate them (He rose through the tomb and entered the cenacle through closed doors). Thus it remains a body and is palpable, but becomes like a spirit and can coexist together with other bodies. The gift of agility, the rapid motion of the body at the wish of the soul, stems from our principle that the risen body is perfectly subject to the Spirit-glorified soul that has transformed it. The explanation given by the An-gelic Doctor relates the two gifts of subtility and agility to this one fact. "The soul is united to the body," says Thomas, "not only as its form but also as its mover, and in both ways the glorified b6dy must be supremely subject to the glorified soul. Therefore, just as by the gift of subtility it is .totally subject to the soul insofar as the latter is the form of the body giving it its specific essence, so also by the gift of agility the body is subject to the soul as to its moving principle, namely, that the body be free and fit to obey the spirit in all its move-ments and actions."47 In this manner the risen body of Christ enjoyed the gift of agility, for it was perfe~ctly subject to His soul as we learn through His various ap-pearances and disappearances in different places and through His ascension into heaven. In the elect, therefore, agility means that the risen body will be freed by the indwelling Trinity from the burden by which it is now prevented from readily mov-ing whither the soul desires. As St. Augustine puts it: "we shall abide in such bodies that wherever we will to be and whenever we will to be, there shall we be." 4s This is the power of which St. Paul speaks when he says that the body which is sown in weaknessrises in power. Incorruptibility or impassibility is a gift whereby, the glorified body is likened to a spirit in the double inca-pacity to suffer or to die. By nature the human soul cannot disintegrate, be ill, or die. By privilege and by incorporation into the risen Christ the elect shall never taste illness, corruption, or death, in their bodies: "What is sown in corruption rises in incorruption." By the gift of brilliance the blessed shall shine as the sun with a splendor that overflows from the joy o[ the '~ Suppl., q.87, a.1, c. ~sSermon 242, c. 3, n. 5; P.L. 38:1140. St. Thomas held (contrary to Suarez' opinion) that this movement is very rapid but not instan-taneous; see Suppl., q.87, a.3. soul in gazing upon the divine beauty and splendor. This brilliance will be like that of Jesus Himself in the Transfig

Issue 25.2 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Sanctification through Obedience by Charles A. Scldeck, C.S.C. 161 Decree on the Eastern Catholic Church~ by Vatican Council II 235 The Church's Holiness and Religious Life by Gustave Martelet, ~q.J. 246 Division of a Province by Albert A, Reed, C.PP.S. 269 The Young Religious and His Poverty by William M. Barbieri, S.J. 288 Religious Rule and Psychological Development by John W. Stafford, G.S.V. 294 Obedience and Subsidiarity by Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P. 305 Religious Censorship of Private Communications by James Gaffney, S.J. 314 Survey of Roman Documents 320 Views, News, Previews 324 Questions and Answers 330 o Book Reviews 335 CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. Sanctification through bedi en ce In the mind of the early Christians the practice of obedience was always considered as somehow or other essential, as necessarily included in their response to God's prevenient redeeming love. A study of the New Testament would reveal that obedience was seen as col-lective; it was an obedience that centered around the submission of the Ghurch to Christ. The members' of the Church, the earthly body of the glorified Christ, were on a voyage during which they were called upon to obey their guide, Christ speaking to them especially through the authorities he had established in the Church.x They considered themselves to be under the authority of the new commandment of charity, such that the accomplish-ment of this commandment included the accomplish-ment of all the others.~ They saw the primary exemplar of their life of Christian obedience in the person of Christ Himself. Every work of His life, all His life, is an ¯ act of obedience to the will of His Father.8 Since they considered that all authority came from God4 they were to obey not merely out of fear but from conscience or for the Lord,~ unless this authority attempted to abuse the power that had been given it. Slaves were to obey their masters,~ wives their husbands,7 children their parentsS; yet all were to love Christ even more. In short, according to the New Testament, any life that was truly Christian had to be filled and impreg-nated with obedience of one sort or another, obedience to God, to Christ, to the Church, to the state, to parents, 1 Heb 13:7. ~ Gal 5:14. SLk 22:42; Jn 17:4; Phil 2:8; Rom 5:19; Mt 9:13; 26:52. '.Mr 22:15 ft.; Rom 13:5. Sl Pt 2:13 ft. e Eph 6:5; Col 8:22. ~ 1 Cot 11:3 ft. SEph 6:1; Col 3:20. Father Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C., is a faculty member of Holy Cross Col-lege; 4001 Hare-wood Road N.E.; Washington,. D.C. 10017. VOLUME 25, 1966 161 + + + c. A. $chleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to a husband, and so forth. Its characteristic mark was that it be shown to any.of these as to the Lord. It was this which g.ave concrete expressions of obedience their unity. From this it would seem that the entire Christian life in its ensemble was considered to be obedience. For everything in it was thought of as an implicit or formal accomplishment of the divine authoritative will speak-ing through the various organs capable of its revela-tion. The application of obedience for the early Chris-tians, if we are to judge from New Testament writings, was as vast as was the field of charity. In fact any and all obedience was considered as being the fulfillment o? charity in its diverse forms. Once an action was seen as necessary for the life of charity and recognized as such by the moral conscience, it became an obligation in virtue of the obligatory character of the precept of charity.9 It was seen not merely in the light of what we would call the virtue of justice but rather in the light of charity, and as such entered into the theologal life o( the Christian. It was a vital human activity of which God Himself was the object and the motive, and in the perfecting of which God was coactive. It was the life of grace in faith, hope, and love, and as such brought about a personal relationship with God.1° On the other side of the coin, those who were called to exercise authority in the Church were to do so as a service to the community, and this in imitation of the Lord who came not to be served but rather to serve,xl The disciples were chosen by Christ and sent to the children of Israel first and then to all the nations12 so that as sharers in His power they might make all peoples His members by sanctifying them and governing themAz They were given the task of ministering to it always under the guidance of the Lord and of guiding it or di-recting it all days even to the consummation of the world.~4 They were called upon to take up the service of the community, presiding in place of God over the community as shepherds of the flock of Christ; whoever listened to them listened to Christ; and whoever re-jected them, rejected Christ and Him who sent Christ, the FatherJ5 The ministry which these men were to exercise was threefold: the ministry of teaching sound 9See K. Truhlar, s.J., "L'ob6issance des la'ics," in La[cs et vie chrdtienne parfaite (Rome: Herder, 1963), p. 245. tOE. Schillebeeckx, O.P., Christ the Sacrament of the Encounter with God (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 16, nQte 14. u Mk 10:45; see also Y. Congar, O.P, Power and Poverty in the Church (Baltimore: Helicon, 1964), pp. 98-9. tO Rom 1:16. tO Mt 28:16-20; Mk 16:15; Lk 24:45-8; Jn 20:21-3. 1~ Mt 28:20. ~Lk 10:16. doctrinele; the ministry o[ sancti[ying17; and the ministry of. governing.~8 It is clear from this that authority is not used correctly whenever it turns into despotism or domi-nation, ae It is meant to be a service of love and in love (agap6) to the community, or a prelacy in the sense of supervision and surveillance for the unification of the community,s0 When we shift our gaze to the "first religious," the fathers of the desert (I think that we can trace the com-munal practice of obedience to this era), we see that for them obedience was one piece in a multitude of things which the ascetic had to be ready to assume in "leaving the world" to test his courage and strength against the temptations of the desert. The reason why this was de-manded was that the heart of an individual was so con-taminated by concupiscences of various kinds that he wo.uld be considered rash if in attempting to reach the perfection of the following of Christ he did not rely on or seek the direction of others in a spirit of humility. Obedience was considered as merely a kind of corollary of a frank soul testifying to its confidence in a spiritual master from whom advice was sought. It was an element of interior perfection and could almost have been re-duced to the practice of humility as a means of putting to death whatever was inordinate in the self-will of an individual. This desire to "follow Christ radically" was not what we often imz'gine it to be--a purely personal and inti-mate relationship with Christ. In the spirituality of the father of the monks, Antony, the "following of Christ" embraced a form that we would find extremely inter-esting today, Despite the apparent paradox, the imitation of Christ by the first hermits was essentially social. The first goal of those who gave themselves to this way of life was fraternal charity. And they were always pre-pared to see to its observance whenever khis was neces-sary. z~ Those who quickly gathered around Antony did so in an attempt to find the life of the primitive Church, a perfect fraternity, totally subject to the will of the as 2 Tim 4: I ft. 1~ Mt 28:19; 2 Cor 3:8--9. as I Pt 5:2 ft.; Acts 20:28. as Mk 10:42; Lk 22:25. ~o For all his insistence on the role of authority as ministry or service, Paul also referred to it as having power to make decisions; it is not simply a tool of the governed; see, for example, 1 Cor 7:10, 12,17; 2 Cor 10:8; 2 Th 3:9; Phm 8. The hierarchy has been es-tablished for service which includes teaching, ministry, and govern-ment. This service is in view of the community, in view of building up the Church to the glory of the Father. See P. Anciaux, L'dpiscopat darts l'Eglise (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1963), pp. 56-7. a Antony returned to Alexandria to serve the Christians perse-cuted for their faith and serving in the mines. 4. + + Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 163: ÷ ÷ C. A. Sehleek, C.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 164 Lord, moving in perfect unity and harmony towards the second coming. This trend was merely more fully in-tensified the more cenobitical these groups became. In the beginning when men came together to live in common, and to follow the teaching of a master and to incorporate themselves more completely into a com-munity of worship and love, the practice of obedience was not regulated by any positive or organic legislation 'as it is today. In fact from the juridical and moral view-point it is difficult to sa~ whether or not the first cenobites were even considered to have vowed obedience to a spiritual father. From all the documentary evidence we have at our disposal it would seem as though the prac-tice of vowed obedience came in with the advent of St. Benedict upon the monastic scene. Yet the practice of obedience for all, hermits and cenobites, appears to have always remained fundamentally the same in its ends or goals. It was always regarded as an instrument for achieving Christian perfection (1) by imitating the ex-ample of the Divine Redeemer and His sacrifice, and (2) by bringing all into unity to constitute a community of worship and love.22 These basic eler~en~s and motives which marked the obedience of the first "religious" should also mark the contemporary practice in religious communities of to-day. The love of Christ, the following of His obedience to the Father, the practice of faith and humility, the desire for ecclesial unity, all of these form the very heart and core of all religious obedience regardless of epoch, place or form, or embodiment. There is, however, one difference that seems to stand out rather clearly in comparing the practice of obedience of modern com-munities with that of their earlier counterparts. And tfiat is~ the functional character of the obedience of the former in contrast with the domestic character of the latter.2n There should be no astonishment at this difference once we consider the environment in which the Bene-dictine life was established. It was set up within the framework of the notion of the Roman paterfamilias who had a rather complete control over those subject to himself, not only the slaves and workers but even over the members of his own immediate family, his wife and his children. For Benedict there was first of all in the monastic ideal, obedience; in fact, we might say there was nothing but obedience. As the Prologu~ of' m R. Carpentier, S.J., "Vers une th~ologie de la vie religieuse," in La vie religieuse darts l'Eglise du Christ (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1964), pp. 65-71. m For these expressions, domestic and ]unctional, see J. Leclercq, The Religious Vocation (New York: Kenedy, 1955), pp. 134-5. the Rule states: "Hearken O my son, to the precept of your master, and incline the ear of your heart; willingly receive and faithfully fulfill the admonition of your loving Father, that you may return by the labor of obedience to Him from whom you had departed through the sloth of disobedience., so that renouncing your own will you will take Up the strong and bright weapons of obedience."~4 And again in Chapter 5 the Rule states: "Those who are impelled by the ardent desire of ascending to eternal life for that reason take the nar-row .way.n6t living by their own will or obeying their own desires and pleasures, they walk in accordance with the judgment and command of another; living in communities they desire to be ruled by an abbot." ~5 From the very beginning the Rule of St. Benedict speaks of the abbot who stands in the place of God. And after this it speaks of obedience, the first among the virtues, and of humility which begets obedience. Yet for all this emphasis on obedience, the Rule also indicates quite clearly its norm: the Rule itself. A very definite limitation was placed on the powers of the abbot, which is often forgotten. There was a sense in which the abbot had all the power, and there was another sense in which he had only that power given to him by the Rule. His mission was to make sure that the Rule was observed. But hd had no power to oblige any service not in accordance with the Rule. Moreover, Benedictine obedience was lived within the framework of the monastery. It was a kind of do-mestic obedience, to use an expression. It was obedience within the life of the family and was given to a superior who was always present. It was a hearkening to the voice of him who gave orders. It was an obedience that left what one was doing unfinished as soon as the voice made itself heard. Because it was domestic, Benedictine obedience was very profoundly human. In the monastery the relationship was that of person to person with the flexibility that is to be found in human relations. It did not have the more or less abstract character and regimentary appearance which it took on in later times due to its change in operation. This same interpersonal dimension of monastic or domestic obedience can be seen throughout Benedict's legislation as is evident from the following excerpts: Whenever any weighty matters are to be transacted in the monastery, let the abbot call together the whole community and make known the matter which is to be considered. Hav-ing heard the brethren's views let him weigh the matter with himself and do what he thinks best. It is for this reason that Prologue, Rule oI St. Benedict, § 1. Rule o] St. Benedict, Chapter 5. - 4. 4. ObedienCe VOLUME 25, 1966 165 REV1EWFOR RELigIOUS 166" we said that all should be called for counsel, because the Lord often reveals to the younger what is best. Let the brethren, however, give their advice with humble submission and let them not presume stubbornly to defend what seems right to them, for it must depend rather on the abbot's will so that all obey him in what he considers best. Bu~ as it becomes disciples to obey their master, so also it becomes the master' to dispose all things with prudence and justice. Therefore let all follow the Rule as their guide in everything, and let no one rashly depart from it . Let no one in the monastery follow the bent of his own heart, and let no one dare to dispute insolently with his abbot, either inside or outside the monastery. If any one dare do so, let" him be placed under the correction of the Rule . Let the abbot himself, however, do everything in the fear of the Lord, and out of reverence for the .Rule, knowing that beyond doubt he will have to give an account to God the most just Judge for all his rulings. If however, matters of'less importance having to do with the welfare of the monastery are to be treated of, let him use the counsel of the seniors only, as it is written: Do ~ill things with counsel, and thou shalt not. repent when thou hast done.~ From the moment when congregations or groups of men and women began to exercise apostolates and chari-table works that took them away from the immediacy of the monastery and the contemplative life, obedience began to. assume a different appearance. It became what we might call more functional in operation than do-mestic.: It began to center more and more around the beginnin~ of an action or task than around the actual manner in which it 'was to be carried out. We can say that it came into action when the course or activity was undertaken, leaving to the subject the manner in which it was to be carried out. The superior was free to fix the limits of the task but once the work was started, the religious was left free, at least to some extent, to follow his own initiative. Yet for all this personal initiative on the part of the subject, the entire work and not merely the task assigned was said to come under obedi-ence. I suppose that we find this practice of obedience rather clearly crystallized in the Jesuit approach to this element of religious life. Wishing to form men for service to the Church in all and every circumstance of its life and needs, Ignatius abandoned many forms and observances which were characteristic up to that time. In regard to obedience he attempted to give his fol-lowers a personal formation that would enable them to preserve their religious character and ideals without many of the external supports that were found in the monastic version of the religious life. His religious were to have such a strong character formation that they would be able to manage without any support, would undertake any responsibility, and would remain faithful ~ Rule of St. Benedict, Chapte~ 5 and 3. to their vocation under any and all circumstances by reason of the depth of their interior life. Yet they would be so trained in obedience that they could be en-trusted with or relieved of any function or activity at any given moment or sent to the ends of the earth with-out previous warning or explanation. As we can see, such obedience might seem to be less human to a certain extent, less interpersonal than that of the monastic version.2~ Yet it is not less radically detached. In fact, it is even more detached than that of the monastic type. For a Jesuit, ideally, can have no other attachment .than to the will of God and to His glory which is represented by an obedience the object of which is frequently that of undertaking rather serious responsibilities. He must be ready for every responsibility and yet at the same time be ready to give up without delay or discussion work to which he may have devoted, himself unreservedly for years. And quite recently Pope Pius XII asked them to continue to form their men in this same spirit of obedi-ence. 2s This form of functional obedience has been the state-ment of this practice of the religious life for most reli-gious communities since the arrival of the Jesuits. The only other development that has come on the scene in recent years is its statement or expression within the framework of secular institutes. Here a more free type of obedience is exercised, but basically it would seem to be merely an extension of the functional obedience which we have just described, From this it should be clear that evangelical obedience or religious obedience as well can be and has been em-bodied in different expressions or statements. These are or have been brought on by the demands of the Church peculiar to different epochs. Yet as we shall see later on in ~ Ignatius was quite understanding of his religious. When Father Nadal entered the Society at about the age of thirty-five Ignatius gave him a particularly pleasant room, had him dine with himself frequently, took him out walking, and chatted with him quite fre-quently. When. asked why, he answered that a temperament like Nadal's had to be treated with a soft touchl It is also recorded of him that he said on one occasion: "I have a great desire for a general indifference in all; and so presupposing obedience and ab-negation on the part o[ the subject, I find it very good to ]ollow his inclinations." When he wished to send one out to study or to a distant assignment or give him some rather heavy task he examined the person to find out what he was most inclined to; and then, if he found an obedient man, accommodated himself to his inclina-tions. See E. Polit, S.J., Per[ect Obedience (Westminster: Newman, 1947), p. 160. ~ Address to the General Congregation, 1957: "The form of gov-ernment in the Society is monarchical and is embodied in the de-cisions of a single superior" (The States oI PerIection, ed. G. Courtois [Westminster: Newman, 1962], p. 300). ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 167 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the article, for all these different expressions, in essence. and in its fundamental .outlines the practice of obedi-ence in all institutes of perfection remains the same. Its theology has in no wise changed.29 For all the cornerstone force, for all the excellence ~which the practice of. obedience has in the long tradition of the life of the counsels, there is no problem which present~ so many and so varied difficulties in our con-temporary religious life. I believe that if we were .to analyze the problem, trying to get at its roots or sources whence these difficulties come, we would find them to be several: the spirit of our times; certain trends in spiritu-ality, certain embodiments of authority and obedience,. and a misunderstanding of the theology of obedience. Each of these demands something of an explanation. Firstof all there is the "spirit of our times," or the civilization and historical epoch in which we live. This is characterized by an ever growing democratization of men and institutions. In such an environment the ideal that seems to be uppermost for many is that of "team. Work" or fraternal collaboration or a "democratic obedi-ence," in which if there is any authority whatsoever, this authority comes from the group in such a way that the leader more or less merely interpre~ or reflects the consensus or the mind of the group 'and acts as their spokesman .and is responsible before them. In fact, the idea that there can be an authority that comes from God rather than from the g~oup, an authority which-is superior to a group even though serving it and ordered to the common good, an authority that is not merely a servile instrument but the sign of ruling that is the power of the kingdom of God, an authority that is a service responsible primarily to God, all this is rather difficult for the youth coming to us today to under-stand. So Moreover, the spirituality of our day with its marvel-ous possession of a deeper psychological understanding of the workings of men and women, its recognition of ~Much of the current agitation regarding obedience and au-thority--- often generating more heat than light in our era of "stress writing"--is really an attempt to recover various aspects of this institution already found in previous embodiments; for exam, ple, (1) the dialogue" and communication ideal of Benedictine monasticism; (2) the functional ideal of the Society of Jesus; (3) the authority-service ideal of the New Testament. Bu( when any ~f these aspects is stressed (and the same is true of abnegation) so that it is seen outside of the total context of obedience-authority, it can cause a myopia which is disastrous to the overall picture. It is this exaggerated preoccupation with one or other element of obedience-authority out of due proportion that-is causing many of our problems today. .~Paul'VI, Address to the General Audience, July 14, 1965, NCWC Documentary News Service. man's intelligence, its cult of the dignity of the human person, its insistence on man's initiative and free re-sponse to God ir; facing the tasks of life, all this has set of[ without intending to, of course, a reaction against obedience and authority, at least for the moment, rather than a perfecting and balancing of it as originally in-tended. Again, a study of history shows quite clearly that down through the centuries there have been dit~erent .embodiments or statements of authority even within the Church. And this same study will show that some of the images of authority in history are not always faithful to its God-intended purpose and, therefore, not very felici-tous and certainly not to be clung to or defended,sl As a result of thes~facts and trends, the charge has been resounding for over ten years that obedience, espe-cially religious obedience, imperils the human dignity of the person, that it hampers or even goes counter to the development of human personality, that it stands be-tween him and God or interferes with his immediate and direct~relationship with God, that it creates weak and passive spirits not capable of meeting the chal-lenges of our times, that it affords a haven where persons afraid to face the world or assume responsibility can come to anchor. It is also argued that corpse-like obedi-ence is not even human, let alone religious. For human obedience should place all the capacities of man at the service of obedience. Consequently, it must be active and intelligent. While passive obedience (the kind so often reflected in the older ascetical writings usually intended for novices and contemplative religious) might be fitting for a very young child (although even this is questioned) since it is not yet capable of using its reason fully, the case of the adult is quite different. The latter's obedience must be mature, therefore, active and intelligent; otherwise it goes counter to the very nature of the human person. And so the plea has been raised again and again: more independence, initiative, and responsibility must be given to subjects. Efficiency can be achieved only when as much discretion and liberty as possible is left to sub-ordinate members. Professionals within the Church will do their best work in a situation where they have as much freedom and self-respect as possible. Thus, au-thority today must be exercised in a much more "fra- ~ Ibid.: "Experience and history offer us a unique picture of the images of authority which are not always faithful and not always happy ones. It is necessary to deepen the idea of the authority of the Church, to purify it of forms which are not essential to it (even if in given circumstances they we're legitimate, for example, temporal power) and to return to its original and Christian prin-ciple." Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 169 + 4. 4. C. A. Schleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 170 ternal,' sort of way, that is, in a way that is characterized by stable and purposeful involvement at.each level.32 It is because this has not been true enough in past years that we face a "crisis," not so much in regard to obedi-ence as rather in regard to authority today.3~ This is obviously only a very brief amalgam of the various ideas being circulated today. And what lends color and force to them is the fact that some of these things can and do happen and certainly have happened both in the Church and in religious communities even though they perhaps have happened elsewhere and are happening elsewhere in greater proportion. "Experience and history offer us images of authority which are not always faithful and are not always happy ones." a4 These gources of difficulty have given rise to still another, one more basic and fundamental and more crucial---the theological principles involved in the prac-tice of obedience. These are sometimes rather poorly misunderstood or distorted, not willingly or intentionally to be sure, but simply by over-preoccupation or concen-tration on some elements to the neglect of others. And one thing is certain--we are not allowed to exaggerate one element of a rather complex reality out of due proportion. If we do, we simply shift our error to an-other side. To avoid tilting at windmills we would do well to go back to the basic principles involved in the practice of obedience. This is necessary for both su-periors and subjects. On the one hand, religious obedi- =A. Greeley, "Fraternal Authority in the Church," Homiletic and Poztoral Review, v. 64 (1963-4), pp. 563-5. Some would go so far as to suggest a liberation from every form of juridical prescrip-tion by substituting the simple law of charity and reducing rules to an indispensable minimum. The problem is a minimum for what vocation and function in the Church? =As Father Gambari remarked: "Some think religious are less inclined to obey today. I do not think that this can be said without any qualification. There is a great generosity and spirit of sacrifice among them, and a deep desire to work for the good of their neighbor. But they do wish to obey with greater liberty, spon-taneity and intelligence. They are anxious to base their obedience on reason, not in the sense that they will obey only if the motives and scope of the command are reasonable but rather in the sense that the problem of obedience is seen in a little different light. In the past obedience was presented and practised with insistence on the negative aspect of self-renunciation or death to one's own will. Today we speak of obedience as perfecting the religious. Thus youth wish to seek in obedience the means of becoming associated to the action of God . Again it is true that religious wish Su-periors who do not only hold authority from God, but who know how to use it as God Himself does. It is this which lies at the basis of so much discussion of the following topics: obedience and formalism; obedience and liberty; authority and liberty; obedience and peisonality development; obedience and personal initiative and responsibility" (Proceedings o] 1958 Sisters" Institute o] Spirituality [Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1959], pp. 137, 150-1). ~ Paul VI, Address to the General Audience, July 14, 1965. ence will be retarded in its spiritual effects to the degree that its theology is not known or is neglected. A superior cannot govern properly unless she understands why obedience confirmed by v6w enjoys the place it always has had in religious life. On the other~ hand, a religious subject will obey .constantly with spiritual profit to herself, the commufiity, and the Church and in an adult manner to the extent that she is convince~n all levels of her personality, intellectual, emotional, social and spiritualZ-of the reasons for the existence, practice, and importance of obedience in her state of life. The real question will then be seen to be not whether there is to be authority and obedience, but whether the cur-rent ways of exercising it are suited to the present condi-tion of the Church. As Pope Paul mentioned: "It is necessary to deepen the idea of authority in the Church, to purify it of forms which are not essential to it (even if in given circumstances they were legitimate, such as, for example temporal power) and to return it to its original and Christian principles." 35 ~ The danger in periods like our own where there is much questioning even to the point of a liberating disobedience is that the very foundations of an institu-tion will be weakened. Yet 'I believe that if we know how to read the designs of providence correctly, we can ~?egard this questioning as an invitation to advance and to grasp more firmly the foundations which might seem to be threatened and to use the very difficulties them-selves as an occasion to commit ourselves all the more profoundly to our own religious dedication. In this way both superiors and subjects will come out of these diffi-culties more deeply rooted and more fully developed. To live in the light it is usually necessary to pass through dark nights136 The treatment that I will follow in ,. approaching this problem or topic will be quite similar to that which was followed in regard to poverty and virginity: (1) obedi-ence in general; (2) what religious obedience adds to the practice of obedience in general; (3) the aims of religious obedience; (4) the qualities of religious obedience; (5) the fruits of religious obedience; and (6) some practical suggestions. The Virtue of Obedience in General The nature of obedience as a virtue might well be defined as follows: a natural or supernatural (dependi-ng upon its source and objective) disposition or bent or ~ Ibid, ~See J. Laplace, S.J., "Education to Obedience," in Religious Obedience ,and the Exercise o! Authority, "Donum Dei," v. 3 (Ottawa, Canada: Canadian Religious Conference, 1961), p. 68. (Hereafter this work will be cited as "Donum Dei" 3.) Obedience VOLUME'25, 1966 . 171. C. A. Schleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS inclination or, better still, per[ectant of the faculty of the will which disposes a person to habitually submit himseff or herself to another's decision in reference to ¯ those things or areas in which this other has authority or decision-making power over one.~7 For example, in civil or domestic matters, a mayor or a governor or a president or a father or a mother has authority and ~The idea of virtue occupies a central position in moral and spiritual theology. A virtue is a dynamism or perfectant which does not create some automatic reflex type of reaction in situations. This would diminish the moral tonality of the action. No, a virtue is a good perfectant or dynamism that is operalive. It gives" the capacity for a power of action to accomplish the maximum of what it can accomplish. It is an active quality or perfectant that disposes one to produce the maximum of what he can on the moral and spiritual level. A natural virtue is acquired by the repetition of interior acts of the intellect and the will and therefore demands human effort. It is marked by the following qualities: (1) It is a constant disposi-tion of person. The repetition of victory over the passional dynam-ism or the other faculties, the will for example, on the part of the intelligence and reason engenders in the person a certain mastery which nothing can destroy save a change in the will of the individ-ual. (2) It gives promptitude and facility in action. This is the effect of the perfect ordination and unification of the interior principles of action of man where each elemeut enjoys its proper role. The reason and the will command and direct, and the sensibility obeys their impulse making its own contribution. It does away with the internal dissension that could so"easily destroy its function. (3) It gives joy in action, a triumphant joy that issues from the creation of a personal perfection. (4) It is acquired by education, respecting the personality of the persoia concerned. (5) It very often requires thee help o[ another and of discipline. We must insist more on the necessity of education to natural virtue, for it is only the intense presence o~: these ~perfectants and dynamisms in our human per-sonality that will make possible and facilitate the exercise of the so-called infused virtues given with grace. Today there is an excess of personal[sin rather current. Under the pretext of respecting the personality o17 another one does not dare intervene in his moral formation, for to do so would be to impose constraints on him; there is rejected any and all discipline which would impose itself on him, this being prompted by the apparently liberal project of leaving free play to the spontaneity of the individual, of placing entire confidence in the personality of each one. What happens is that'one often abandons others, especially the young, to themselves and their inexperience. One leaves them to the winds of moral mal-formation, to a spiritual life that is rather superficial, subjected to incessant agitation and changes of sentiments that are without much real depth. So many of those advocating this type ol: new formation were just a few years back the most rigid of personalities. This in itself should make us a little cautiotis in regard to any wholesale adoption of this thinking. Education to virtue is a difficult task and a complex one. It exacts the employment of authority and a pro-found respect for those one is educating, much understanding and finesse, and a firm will. One must beware of abusing authority and ofa liberalism which neglects its use: Only intelligent and prudent love for the one being educated will permit the discovery of this formula. See S. Pinckaers, O.P., "La vertu est tout autre chose qu'uhe habitude," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 82 (1960), pp. 387- 403. decision-making power over those under him or her in relation to certain actions. Obedience, therefore, is a natural or supernatural perfectant of the will which makes a person prompt in fulfilling the decisions of the one entrusted with this duty and service. By its very ¯ nature, negatively speaking, it involves a surrender of one's will, in a sense, in a given area of action. It means submission to another and implies a risk. For it means the channeling of efforts and energies in the direction marked out by the one charged with the de-cision- making, and this could go contrary to one's per-sonal tastes.and inclinations. As a result the practice of obedience requires submission to the command of another, inability to exercise, independent choice con-trary to the command given; therefore, it implies an evident restriction of freedom in action. If we concentrate only on these negative implications (and necessary ones to be sure)of obedience, it would be easy for us to conclude that some of the objections mentioned above are correct. Obedience could be seen merely as an obstacle to .self-fulfillment, to personal de-velopment; it could be viewed as a violation of personal dignity, even perhaps a kind of profanation of the charismatic spirit which is in each one to lead him to his or her perfection. For this reason, it is all the more necessary to see the positive side of the virtue of obedi-ence, and that is that it is a free and voluntary giving or snrrender or submission of one's person (will) to the decision-making duty and service (command) of a.: su-perior or one charged with the common good. As such, it is an action very much in conformity with our human dignity and self-mastery and quite capable of leading to our self-fulfillment, especially when it is motivated cor-rectly by the spirit of love. The basis of obedience is the very structure of society which requires authority at the service of the com-munity or the common good. This is God-willed and God-intended. There exists no authority except from God.as As John Chrysostom explains this: "Does this mean that every ruler is appointed by God? I do not say that, for I am not dealing now with individual rulers but with authority itself. What I say is that it is the divine wisdom and not mere chance that has or-dained that there should be government, that some should command and others obey." 29 God has willed that in the plan of leading men back ,to Himself ulti-mately, some should be subject to others, not because of any superiority of talent necessarily, whether this be intellectual or spiritual or social or administrative, but ~ Rom 13:1. ~In Epist. ad Rom., c. 13, hom. 23, P.G., v. 60, col. 615. Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 . A. SchlCec.$k.,~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS merely because God has given one person authority or decision-making power over others, even though He may .have done 'this using very human means and per-sons and even political maneuvering to designate this person. Authority is not to be thought a~ lacking all control. Since it is the power to decide or command according to right reason, it must derive its obligatory force from the moral order which has God for its firgt source and final end. If it can oblige men in conscience it is only because it is intrinsically related with the authority of God and shares in it. By this principle the dignity of men is protected. "As men they are equal (and as Christians also, if they are such), but as superior and inferior they are not equal, they are not on the same plane. To one God has given the service of commanding in the realization of His will and to others He has given the service of obeying. When in fact men obey their lawfully constituted rulers when "they rightfully exercise their authority, it is not at all men they obey. "It is God," as Pope John pointed out, "the provident Creator of all things whom they rever-ence. through their obedience, since He has decreed that men's dealings with one another should be regu-lated, by an order which He Himsdf has established. And in showing this due reverence to God, we do not debase ourselves, but rather perfect and ennoble our-selves. For to serve God is to rule." 40 Since the right to command is required by the moral order and has its source in God, it follows that if au-thority (eVen civil) legislates for or allows anything that is contrar)~ to that order and therefore contrary to th~ will of God, neither the laws made nor the authoriza-tions granted can be binding on the consciences of the citizens, since we must obey God 'rather than men. If this were not so, then autho~:ity would break down com-pletely and would result in or be open to shameful abuse. The net result of this would be the degradation of the human person.41 Obedience, then, does not regard so much the persoh in authority as rather the authority of the person in charge. For obedience is given not so much to a per-son as rather to a norm or set of societal laws or rules or norms or constitutions which this authority is called upon to safeguard. Yet to a certain extent obedience is given also to a person, that is, to God who incarnates Himself in this' set, of expressions when they fulfill the definition of law: an ordinance of reason established for ~o Pacem in terris, America Press edition, § 50, p. 18; also, §§ 46-9, pp. 17-8. ~a Ibid., § 51, p. 18. the common good, promulgated by one who has rightful authority.42 From what we have seen, it. should be evident that the purpose of authority is the common good; in fact, this comes from the very etymology of the word. It is derived from the Latin word "augere" which means to increase or foster or enlarge. It is. of the very nature of anyone in authority to make decisions and move people about or command their wills but only in the interest of the common good. Thus, the motivating force behind one in authority cannot be merely the good of the individual member but rather the overall common good of the group or society over which he or she has charge. This end, of course, does not exclude the good of the individual either. Rather it includes it, since the indi-vidual pertains to the group as a part pertains to the whole. Authority exists for the sake of those over whom it is set. It is a service to God and to th~ community and to the individual member of this community. As Pope John mentioned: Indeed since the whole reason for the existence of civil authorities is the realization of the common good, it is clearly necessary that in pursuing this objective, they should respect its essential elements, and at the same time conform their laws to the needs of a given historical situation . For the common good is intimately bound up with human nature. It can never exist fully and completely unless its intimate nature and realization being what they are, the human person is taken into account.~ Authority is established to develop and lead to per-fection and fulfillment the self-respect of the group and of each individual member of the group, to impress upon the group as well as each individual member the per-sonality which is proper to it and to them, a personality which is determined by the end or purpose for which the society exists. It is not set up to be an opportunity to exercise a lordship or dominion, or to receive respect or reverence or service. It is a ministry unto unity, even while it fosters diversity. It can readily be seen that excessive severity or ri-gidity on the part of authority originates from a false idea. It comes most often from an over-estimation of oneself on the part of the one in authority, or from pedagogical incompetence, or from the inability to han-dle individual persons, or perhaps even from some sense of inferiority in the face of the subordinates one has ' to command. It is for one or more of these reasons that ~ This point would seem to have some relevance for women since modern psychology reveals that often they find it somewhat more difficult to abstract from the concrete person involved in superior-subject relationships. ~ Pacem in terris, §§ 54-5, pp. 19-20. ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 175 ÷ ÷ ÷ C. A. SchCle.Sc.kC,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS authority often ends up?by having to work at a distance from its subjects rather than in close collaboration with them and leadership of them; and in so doing it fails to accomplish the full perfection df the task that is assigned to it--the bringing out in the society and the individual members¯ of it the personality or the personalities that are proper to it.44 While ,the initial success of obedience rests on the wise and efficient Use of authority---on government ac-cording to reason rather than merely by will--still it can also be said that the ultimate success of this institu-tion and the realization of the common good rests upon the harmonious cooperation and collaboration of those who are subject to this authority. Individuals and inter-mediate groups are obliged to make their specific contri-butions to the common welfare. Thus, one of the chief consequences of this is that these individuals or groups must bring their own interests into harmony with the needs o] the community, and they must dispose of their goods and of their services as the legitimate authorities prescribe in.accord with the norms of justice and within the limits or, their competence.4~ It is on!y in that society or community in which each member consents to do his part, and all his part, and nothing but his part (that is, not interfering with others) that everything will be correctly done. Such is true of the workings of the human body, and.~such, is true of the' working of an orchestra. For only when each one executes faithfully what is on the sheet of music before him will the entire piece be a perfect success. If one of the members of the orchestra departs from the score, not harmony but cacophony and discord will result. While it is true that not all the parts o(the orchestra have equally exciting or exhilarating functions to play, .still each of them has to be performed correctly it the end ot the orchestra is going to be achieved. There are some per-sons who play a.ll the time, and there are 'others who play only an occasional note here and there throughout the entire piece. Yet it this occasional note, small as it is in comparison with the whole, is not played exactly when and where it is to be played, the overall beauty of the music would be marred. Granted it is not very enticing or alluring to have to count out measure after meas6re without doing anything active, still each mere-a By "personality" I mean the'harmonious development of all the human and supernatural qualities of a person in subordination to the common good, to God, the lesser good being subordinated to the greater good. So understood, there is no conflict between the personality and obedience. There will at times be need for re-nunciation by an individual or small group, but this will be asked for the common good. See "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 194-5. ~ Pacem in teriis, § 53, p. 19. ber of the orchestra knows that this inconvenience must be endured, since the concert is not merely for th~ players but for the audience listening to it. A similar thing is true in the case of any society. F6r the good of the society is attained only when those under authority perfectly fulfill the tasks and offices and duties to which they are assigned--and as human beings---and when authority learns to utilize the experience and training and talents of those it commands in reference to the community endeavor. Thus, the power of au-thority can be defined as a power of cooi:dination guaranteeing the unity of a communitary plurality;, but. only in proportion to the consciousness with which each member of the community lives his function will the unity actually be achieved.46 From this it should be clear that a true concept of obedience and its correlative authority is far from the limited distortion so often emphasized in "stress writ-ing" today. It is a positive force for the fulfillment of men and women, of persons, but within the sphere of community as well as within the sphere of their, private world. A community in which the members have the proper respect for those in authority and willingly and intelligently carry out their specific functions and roles must necessarily be one in which tranquility reigns.4~ Authentic obedience liberates a person once and for all from his personal instability, sentimentality, and blind passions. It is a free and voluntary option which leaves the spirit open and receptive to many values which pre-sent themselves. The person who never makes such a choice and who never commits himself is less open, less broad-minded than one who has anchored his life to an obedience, seeing his life in and through it as a building directed by God. Yet for all this, such a relationship~ obedience-authority---does involve a struggle, one that includes very painful aspects because it disturbs very deep desires in men who are not as yet totally harmonized and humanized by the power of Christ's redeeming grace. Religious Obedience: What It Adds to Obedience in General Today it is most important that we show that obedi-ence is universal in character and belongs to the very life of the Church. It is, therefore, not entirely correct to call it the virtue of the monk "or of the religious. For obedience in a sense is just as absolute and obligatory for the layman as for the monk or religious even though ~A. Paoli, "Obedience," Cross Currents, v. 15 (1965), pp. 284-5. ~J. Aumann, "Current Trends," Cross and Crown, v. 17 (1965), pp. 347-8. Obedience " VOLUME 25, '1966 177 4. C. A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 178 there¯ are differences. This absoluteness of obedience even for the layman stems from the universal vocation of all who are baptized to holiness of life.48 Yet for all this we do find differences, in fact differences which serve to establish one in a different way of life within the Church. As Pope Paul mentioned in a recent allocution: It has seemed good to Us to recall here the priceless im-portance and necessary function of religious life; for this state of life which receives its distinctive character from profession of the evangelical counsels is a perfect way of life according to the example and teaching of Jesus Christ, especially since it is a state of life which keeps in view the constant growth of charity leading to final perfection. In other ways of life the specific ends, advantages, and functions, though legitimate in them- ¯ selves, are of a temporal character . Hence it follows that the profession of the evangelical vows is an augmentation of that consecration which is proper to baptism. It is a kind of special consecration which perfects the former one inasmuch as by it the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone.'~ When we come to determine these differences more precisely we would find them to be especially three: (1) it extends the practice of obedience; (2) it changes the end or, perhaps better, affects the end for which one obeys; and (3) it places us in a more direct contact with the will of God, than does life outside religion (this has to be understood cautiously). First, religious obedience extends the control of Church authority over the person who freely and voluntarily enters a religious society. For by entering, a woman freely, and let us hope joyfully, gives to the persons of her superiors and their decision-making power even that legitimate freedom of action and movement with regard to time and exterior lif~ which she enjoyed in the world. Consequently, the obligation or the moral imperative of the virtue of obedience is extended also ,s Paul VII Magno gaudio affecti, May 23, 1964; English trans-lation, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 23 (1964), p. 699. But especially see the Constitution on the Church of Vatican Council II, Chapter 5 (English translation, REVIEW FO~ RELIGIOUS, V. 24 [1965], pp. 707-- ~ Paul VI, Magno gaudio affecti, as cited in the preceding foot-note. This difference is also indicated in the Constitution on the Church: "Since it is necessary thfft His followers should always imi-tate and give testimony to this charity and humility of Christ, the Church rejoices that there are to be found within her many men and women who closely follow and clearly show forth the self-emptying of the Savior, doing this by assuming poverty in the spirit of the freedom of the children of God and by renouncing their own wills. For the sake o[ God and with respect to what pertains to per-fection they make themselves subject to a man, going beyond the measure o[ what is commanded in order to be more lully con]ormed to the obedient Christ" (Chapter 5; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. v. 24 [1965], pp. 712-3). to meet these new acts which religious authority can now command according to the norms of the particular society or community involved. For as we mentioned above, a religious vows or promises obedience primarily to God within the framework of a society and its particu-lar or peculiar norm of life rather than to a person, even though the two ~ire in a sense identified whenever the person in authority commands according to the norm. In fact, it is this very extension of obedience which makes religious commitment today the difficult thing that it is for so many young girls. As Pius XII remarked in an address to the International Congress for the States of Perfection in 1950: If the number of candidates wishing to enter the enclosed gardens of the religious life is diminishing, especially among young women, the reason very frequently is that they find it difficult to divest themselves of their own judgment and sur-render their [reedom o[ action, as the very nature of the vow of obedience demands. Indeed some praise as the real peak of moral perfection, not the surrender of liberty for the sake of the love of Christ, but the curbing of such surrender. The norm to be preferred in the formation of a just and holy person would seem to be this: restrict liberty only where necessary; otherwise, give liberty free rein as far as possible. We by-pass the question whether this new foundation on which some are trying to build the edifice of sanctity will be as effective and as solid in supporting and augmenting the apostolic work of the Church as was the one which through fifteen hundred years has been provided by that ancient rule of obedience undertaken for the love of Christ. What is now of supreme importance is to examine this proposal thoroughly to disclose what lies concealed beneath the surface. This opinion, if care-fully considered not only fails to appreciate the nature of the evangelical counsel but it somehow twists it to a meaning in accord with its theory. No one is obliged to choose for himself the counsel of perfect obedience, which essentially is a rule of life whereby one surrenders the control of his own will. No one, we repeat, be it an individual or a group. They can if they wish conform to this new rule. But words must be under-stood and accepted according to .their obvious meaning, and if this norm is compared with the vow of obedience it surely does not possess the same supreme value, nor is it an adequate expression of the wonderful example recorded in Holy Scrip-ture: "He humbled Himself becoming obedient unto death." ~0 He therefore is himself deceived and deceives others who forgetting the propensities of the soul and the inspiration of divine grace, offers as a guide to one seeking advice about en-tering the religious state only that new norm. Hence if it is clear that the voice of God is calling someone to the heights of evangelical perfection without any hesitation he should be invited for the attainment of this lofty purpose to offer freely the sacrifice of his liberty as the vow of obedience demands, that vow, We proclaim, which the Church has through so many centuries weighed, has put to the test, has properly delineated and has approved. Let no one against his will be compelled to Phil 2:8. ÷ ÷ ÷ ObedienCe VOLUME 25, 1966 1'/9 ÷ ÷ C. A. $chleck, C.$.C. REVIEW,FOR REL]G|OU$ 180 this self-consecration; but if he does will it, let no one counsel him against it; above all let no one hold him bacL= Moreover, the end to Which the superiors of a re-ligious community are to lead the one presenting her-self to it is not merely a natural end, such as is true at least proximately of a natural society. The first or pri-mary role and duty of religious superiors is to lead their members or subordinates to intimate communion and union wiih God through the perfection of love or charity by way o~ personal assimilation and expression. No human society has this as its direct and primary end, whereas a religious society does not exist and can-not exist except ~or this purpose.~2 Thus the primary end of religious communities is to lead their members to "seek God solely and before anything else," 53 and this by the profession of the vows, especially that of obedience which is the most important and which in a sense in-cludes the others since we vow obedience to the consti-tutions which include the practice of the other two vows. And finally, religious obedience puts a subject into more direct and immediate contact with the will of God than any other framework of life. This was certainly the thought of Benedictine monasticism which regarded the abbot as the one who took the place of God ~or the monk so long as the abbot commanded according to the norms of the monastic community. And it also seems to be the normally accepted thinking of the magister-ium. In speaking to major superiors in 1958, Plus XII pointed out the place which religious superiors have in regard to the government of the Church: Beloved sons who by the suave designs of God's providence have been placed in .command of your members engaged in the quest of perfection, gathered as you are in Our presence, it is with uncommon joy that We salute you in the name of the Lord, as men chosen to be associated with Us--and in no mean capacity--in Our apostolic office. For as We said a few years ago in speaking to your members at the first General Congress of the States of Perfection, the religious state "has its existence and strength from its intimate connection with the end of the Church herself, which is to lead men to the attainment of holiness." And the Church, the Spouse of Christ, would not fully correspond to His will, nor would the eyes of men be raised to her in hope as to a "standard set up unto the nations" if there were not found in her some who, more by example than by word, are especially resplendent with the beauty of the Gospel. In this department of Our work, therefore, beloved Sons, We have taken you as associates of Our supreme o~ce, either directly by delegating to you through the Code of Canon ~ Canon Law Digest for Religious, v. 1 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 91-2. ~ See footnote 49. The specific end of marriage is not.perfection or charity, at least so it would seem from this statement. ~ See Vatican Council II, Decree on Adaptation and Renewal of the Religious Lile, nos. 5--6; NCWC Documentary Service. Law some share of Our supreme jurisdiction, or by laying the foundations of your so-called "dominative power" by Our ap-proval of your rules and Constitutions. And so We have it very much at heart that you should exercise this authority of yours according to Our mind and that of the Church. It is with clear vision and turning neither to right nor to the left that Superiors should lead their subjects securely to eternal life by the safe way of truth, with firm leadership and if necessary with a strong hand. To quote the patriarch of those who, in the Western world, str~ve for evangehcal perfectmn: The A hot should neither teach nor establish nor command anything that is outside the teaching of the Lord.''~ It is because religious superiors in some way share in ecclesiastical authority that when they command in keeping with the norms of this authority they place us in contact with the will of God. This is why Pius had also a year previously rejected the argument against re-ligious obedience drawn from the alleged fact that the dependence of a religious upon his superior was con-trary to the supreme and direct dominion of God over conscience: To insist that a man depend on another even as to his personal life and activity--is not this to confer on the superior prerogatives which belong onl)~ to God? The Church has never defended nor approved such a contention. She regards obedi-ence as a means of leading man to God. Since the motive which inspires it is union with God and since the final aim of obedi-ence is growth in charity, the superior is by no means an obstacle standing between God and the subject and arrogating to himself the homage which is directed only to God. The superior can command only in the name of God and in virtue of the powers entrusted to him, and the subject is bound to obey only for the love of Christ, not for any motives of human advantage or convenience--and much less by mere constraint. Thus he will preserve even in the most complete submission the eager joy of renewing each day concretely his total consecration to the one supreme Master . Let us first recall the words of our Savior: "Come to me all you who labor and are burdened, and I will refresh you . Learn of me because I am meek and humble of heart, and you shall find rest for your souls." ~ If our Lord thus invites men to take up His yoke, it is to teach them that beyond mere legal observance, which easily be-comes burdensome and hard to bear, they are to discover the meaning of true submission and Christian humility. Far [rom offending the dignity of one who submits, this will give him in-terior liberty and show him how to accept his state of subjec-tion, not as a constraint from without, but as a surrender of himself into the hands of God, whose will is expressed through the visible authority of those whose mission it is to command. The Superior for his part will use his powers in the same evangelical spirit: "He that is the greater among you, let him become the younger; and he that is leader as he that serves." ~ From this it should be clear that the superior has as ~ Allocution to Major Superiors, February 11, 1958; Canon Law Digest ]or Religious, v. 1, pp. 194-5. ~ Mt 11:28-9. ~Lk 22:26. See also the Address to the States o] Per]ection, December 9, 1957; Canon Law Digest for Religious, v. 1, pp. 132, 130. 4" 4" 4" Obedience VOLUME 25, 1"966' ' 181 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS her function the apostolic duty of mediating God's will to human minds. It is because she is the instrument whom God uses to make known His will to the sub-ject that she has the duty to listen to God herself, to seek the will of God and the directives of the Spirit in regard to the subject, even using the subject's communi-cation to her in seeking this out. If the subject is ex-pected to see Christ in her superior, then the superior also is expected to see Christ in the subject, for she is a member of the Body of Christ. As Christians they are equal, and it is possible for the subject to receive cer-tain lights and directives from the Holy Spirit.5~ Yet even these are subject to the final decision of those in authority when authority acts within its powers. Con-sequently, it is the duty of the subject to accept the fact that when authority has issued a command, it has also been listening to God's word and is not merely issuing a command for the exercise of power. With all this in mind it should be quite easy to grasp the statement that in a way the problem of obedience is simpler for the subject than for the superior. As far as the subject is concerned, obedience enjoys a kind of infallibility, such that the subject is never wrong in obeying when the superior operates within the limits of her powers. This, of course, has to be understood cor-rectly. A distinction must be made between the proxi-mate end and the remote end of a law. It is quite possible that in reference to the proximate end, the de-cision of the superior is not always the best. Yet with regard to the remote or ultimate end, this decision trans-mits infalliblY the will of God and the subject cannot make any mistake in obeying it. In giving a command or making a decision it is the general policy of superiors to be pursuing a proximate end or an immediate and definite purpose. A superior for example may give a, sub-ject a directive aimed at helping the subject improve in some area of her teaching or nursing. In such matters it is quite possible for the superior to make a mistake. ¯ She can tell the subject to take a certain kind of exercise and the subject incapacitates herself from doing ttiis. In regard to this, then, the immediate or proximate end, the superior can be quite fallible. But we can also con-sider the superior's decision in relation to its remote li:'l; end: to reveal to the subject the will of God in her re-gard, And this particular will of God is merely a part o[ the total plan of divine providence and government of mankind. ~We have a rather darkened and limited intellect and our range of vision is quite small. Thus we could very mVatican Council II, Constitution on the Church, Chapter 2, n. 12; R~vmw FOR RELmIOUS, V. 24 (1965), pp. 677-8. easily be mistaken when we pass judgment on some event or other. We can look at it as a failure when in reality it has many further nuances. We must remember that the total plan of God is a supremely harmonious one in which every detail is wisely provided for, willed or permitted by God. We see only a part of the overall plan and may easily think that talents and so on are quite wasted. Yet from God's viewpoint everything is quite clear and well ordered, and every detail is ac-cording to His plan. Thus an action decided on by a superior may very well result in failure on the human plane. In relation to its ultimate end, however,, it is willed or permitted, by God. Thus what seems a failure to our human shortsightedness is really a part of the great harmonious plan of God. And in this long-range view the apparent failure which contributes to the har-mony of the overall design is really a success. Thus the subject, failing according to our human approach and view through her obedience, is always fulfilling the authentic will of God. She contributes to the realization of the total divine plan and therefore cannot make a mistake. Her union with the divine will is infallible, in this sense. This does not mean that the superior cannot make a mistake in commanding or deciding. Far from it. It is possible in commanding or deciding that the stiperior gives evidence of incompetence, or ignorance, or pre-cipitation, or anger, even of malice. And we cannot pos-sibly consider any of these virtuous actions. It can be from the superior's point of view a mistake and even a sin, even a grave sin. But unless the superior commands a sinful action, the duty of the subject is to obey.as Thus the principle that we have been attempting to show still holds. The subject enjoys a kind of infallibility in the practice of obedience, which the superior does not necessarily enjoy. It is the great St. Teresa who was so convinced of this that she wrote: "Suppose the confes-sor makes a mistake, the safest way for a religious is to follow his direction exactly, even .though an angel of the Lord may have spoken to her (indicating a different direction). For our Lord will either enlighten his min, ister or arrange matters in such a way that this soul will not fail in obeying." 59 It is precisely the role of the vow of obedience to permit us to conform our will to God's in our least actions and at every moment of our ~sI shall clarify this at greater length when speaking .of the qualities of obedience. ~ Book o] Foundations in The Complete Works of St. Teresa of Avila, ed. E. Allison: Peers, vo 3 (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1951), p. 42. For a more complete treatment of this note of infallibility in obedience, see R. Morency, S.J., "The Ex~rcise of Authority in the Light of Present-Day Problems," "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 172-4. ÷ + ÷ VOLUME 25,. 1956 ]83 4. 4. + REV[EW FOR REL]G]OU5 life. In obeying, in fulfilling what is demanded by rule and constitutions and by superiors, the religious has the certainty (in faith, of course, as we shall see) of dbing exactly what God wants her to do at each moment of her life. By obedience she conforms her will to God's. What we have been discussing is based on the fol-lowing considerations. Christian thought has always recognized in ecclesiastical leaders the representatives of Christ. Yet we are not to .feel that the decisions of those in authority on any particular point are identical with the direct revelation of God's designs. Nor are we to conclude that the dedisions of those in authority are identical with those which Christ Himself. would make in simil~tr circumstances. (This would be to push the "mystique" of obedience beyond its limits.) The mem-bers of communities who are in authority are secondary causes and remain so.'Zhey act with such intelligence and competence and skill as God has given them or as they may have acquired with His talents and grace. He does not transform their imperfections and weaknesses into ggod qualities. It is true of course that He does compensate~ for them, but this is different. Yet it is in spite of these insufficiencies whether hidden or obvious that Christ continues to govern His Church through such agents. It is through them that He works out His plan of redemption. The true concept of obedience does not consist in believing that every decision imposed by those in au-thority is the only possible one in the circumstances, or the best in the absolute sense. The Church's infallibility is involved only in the order of the magisterium and not at all in the purely jurisdictional order. No doubt, of course, the Holy Spirit assists those in authority to pre-ser~, e them from making blunders in the exercise of their power. But the Holy Spirit has never promised to guaran-tee them against every blunder in the sphere of govern-ment. The possibility of erroneous decisions will always be with the Church (like certain of its other marksl). But one thing remains certain; nothing can shake it, not even the possibility of error: God wants us to obey His delegates when they give legitimate orders. The Son of God made the Church His Body; and He decreed that the obedience which began in the Head should con-tinue in the Body, such that obedience is integrated with the Church's very existence. It is a vital law in the Body of Christ. Yet for all-this our Lord did not prom-ise His ministers, governing or teaching, all the human talents that might be necessary for a task which is ut-terly beyond, them. He sought the leaders and' teachers of His early Church on the Lake of Gennesaret not in the schools or in the council chambers of kings. And the same is true today. Not all the popes are the most wise and clever or learned, or even saints. Thus the real is-sue in religious obedience will always be in the spiritual order. The point at issue is simply this, that we must re-member in our own lives the words of the Lord: He who hears you hears me. And when He uttered these words, He knew what sort of men His own disciples were; he knew the level of their training and of their intelligence; even the limits of their generosity. Yet He still said:~ "He who hears you hears me and Him who sent me,. my Father," s0 From all this it follows that until the subject comes to.see in her superior the authority of the Master, there can be no real living religious obedience that is truly supernatural. 'For the subject is asked to see the presence of Christ and His directive providence whenever the su-perior commands her to fulfill the constitutions or rules or the laws which she has voluntarily and freely taken upon herself. We can go so far as to say that if Christ Himself. were to appear at the moment a. religious su-perior is giving us a command, He Himself would either give this same command or permit it to be given for some greater good He has in mind. By entering a reli-gious community one voluntarily enters upon a training program by which she is enabled to tend to the perfec-tion of cha~:ity. She enters what Benedict called the school of the Lord's service. And like a,ny0ne in any school, she has to be taught and instructed and exer-cised to attain the end for which she entered. And that demands being placed under a master or leader, at le'ast as far as those things which pertain to the religious life. are concerned. And while this process of learning may one day be terminated, such fhat the le~ider can no longer teach the religious who may be older and moie experienced than she in religion, still the exercising of one in obedience will always be necessary so that the habitual inclination to obey will not become rusty for want of practice and exercise. The ,dims of "Religious Obedience Proceeding to the aims of religious obedience we find them to be four: (1) it cuts away solicitude; (2) it di-rects us to the fullness of charity; (3) it enables us" to ful~ fill a sacramental mission in the Church; and (4) it effects a community of service for the Body of Christ. The first aim of religious obedience is somewhat .nega-tive in tone. You are all familiar with it. It attempts to cut away the constant solicitude as to .what we should do, where we should live, and how we should direct our ® See A. de Bovis, S.J., The Church:" Christ's Mystery and Sa~ra. rnent (New York: Hawthorn, 1961), pp. 123-4. Obed~,nce VOLUME 25, 1966 + + + C. A. SchCle.Sc.kC,. REVIEW:FOR RELIGIOUS 186 lives. This we do by placing our lives in the hands of another or others who represent for us God. The ab-negation of self which is involved in 0bedi~nce is quite well defined in such a practice. As the recent decree on adaptation and renewal in the religious life has it: In professing obedience religious offer the full surrender of their own will as a sacrifice of themselves to God and so are united permanently and securely to God's salvific will. After the example of Jesus Cliristwho came to do the will of the Father, an d "assumi-ng the nature of a slave" learned obedience in the school of suffering, religious under the motion of the Holy Spirit subject themselves in faith to their superiors who hold the place of God.°1 While abnegation is involved in all obedience, in reli-gious obedience it becomes a constant and permanent dynamic and not something that is exercised only from time to time.Indeed, from a negative viewpoint, it is this constant and complete renunciation of our own will in preference to that of another wherein we find. our sanctity and wherein we find a holocaustal offering of our wills to God rather than a mere sacrificial offering of them to Him. That is why Christ in laying down the injunction for tile highest sanctity and perfection very frankly and openly said "He who would be my disciple must deny himself." 62 Without this personal abnega-tion there can be no sanctity which patterns itself after that of our Lord, that is, there is no sanctity which can call itself fully Christian. If we are to derive from reli- . gious obedience all of its fruit in the way of renuncia-tion of our own .wills, then we must subject them to the concrete will or wills of those superiors who are placed over us to mediate to us the will of God in our regard. From this it should be clear that religious obedience is established on the obedience of Christ, the following of Christ, which attained its full measure in the sacrifice of the Cross. If the religious consecration is derived from the consecration of Christ to the work of redemption, the vow of obedience has its source in the redemptive obedience of Christ. Therefore it is entirely insufficient to justify the vow of obedience by making exclusive ap-peal to the need for one authority for the organization of a life in community or for the carrying out of an ~postolate. This would be to make the mistake of con-side. ring religious obedience as merely a vehicle for apostolic activity. This notion of obedience as ordering us for community action is indeed a necessary part of religious obedience, especially in an active community, but the vow does not have for its exclusive object or Vatican II, Decree on Adaptation. Lk 9:23. end the development of obedience under the title of a purely social virtue such as is true of Marxist com-munism. It has for one of its properly religious values the task and aim of assimilating the life of the religious to that of Christ, to make pass into the person the fundamental attitude of the Redeemer. And as such it is meant to lead to the personal sanctification of the one who enters upon this way of life.°8 A second aim of religious obedience and one much more positive than the preceding is its close connection with the religious' growth in charity. We mentioned above that the practice of religious obedience differs from that of obedience practiced in a civil or natural society in that it puts us into more immediate contact with the will of God than does the latter. It is meant to bring about the perfect "unum velle" and the perfect "unum nolle" of our wills with that of Christ. For to love God is not merely to surrender or give up some-thing of our own will. It is to adhere positively and firmly to the will of the one we love~ It is to transform the willing of ourselves into that of the person we love. The more constant and actual this union of wills be-comes~: the more actual and constant does our love for this person become. And to love God means to do what He desires; it is to obey. The gospel makes this quite clear.64 That is why obedience in a religious commu-nity, which reaches to every action of a person's life, contributes so efficaciously to bring about the perfect union of wills which is the goal of the Christian life and in which Christian perfection consists. This is, as we know, Christian perfection, a union of Jove or charity or agapd, or a union in love, charity, and agapd. It is quite important that your religious understand this connection. As we have seen above, often in the order transmitted to us by superiors there'is an apparent lack of logic which at times might even seem to contradict a profound personal obedience (it goes against my con-science!). This difficulty can only be solved with love, a love that transmits and a love that accepts. The problem of obedience cannot ever be resolved in exact terms; it is more an intuition than the result of a logical proc-ess. We must frequently offer ourselves without seeing the result of our actions. This we can do only if we discover the relationship of love in obedience. It is love which provides the special intuition which makes it pos-sible [or both the one who obeys and the one who com-mands to arrive at the conclusion: I know that I can ~ See J. Galot, S.J., "R~demption et vie religieuse," in La vie re-ligieuse dans l'Eglise du Christ, p. 109. ~ Paoli, "Obedience," p. 278; Mt 22:37--40; Rom 13:I0; Gal 5:14; Jn 14:21; 15:10; 1 Jn 2:5; 3:24; 5:3. + + + Obedience VOLUME'25, 1~66 187 ÷ ÷ C. A. SchCle.Sc.kC,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 188 trust myself to her or, more exactly, to Him, We will abandon ourselves entirely to a person and to his will once we feel that his will needs no justification because we love the person. We do what he wishes because it pleases him, and all that pleases him gives us joy because we love him.65 If this is ever true, it is certainly true when the other person involved is God. Obedience when understood in this light is the supreme instrument o[ charity; and once this is truly accepted by a religious, then her obedience is not going to be merely something that pertains to one of the virtues connected with jus-tice, or'a rendering of what she owes to someone or to a community because of her having surrendered herself to it. No, her obedience will go and was meant to go beyond this. It was intended to allow her to submit her-self to the direction of another, God, not merely because she considers Him to be the commander of her life but because He is one whom she has chosen as her Spouse,. because He is one whom she loves, because He is one With whom she has entered into a marital relationship of the spirit. Thus obedience, especially in the case of the religious sister should become an occasion for her pure love for Christ her Spouse and, as such, should realize the most perfect submission possible to another, one that ends in the ecstasy of one will in that of an-other, or of the person loving in the person of the be-loved." It is only when and where a religious sister has made this her idea and ideal of obedience that it be-comes not just a means of arriving at the perfection of charity but also a concrete way in which she can show or express, sacramentalize the love of charity or agapd which, she has toward Christ. Obedience becomes a sign of charity, an act by which she adheres to the will of one whom she loves, as a bride adheres to the will and the desires and good pleasure of her husband. Unless this love enters into her practice of obediehce it can easily remain sterile or, if having sprung up, die or wither. And the grain of wheat which fell into the ground at the time of profession never really does die, as Christ uses this figure. Rather, it remains alone and never does produce the fruit which it should and which it was meant to produce by the sower who placed the seed of vocation in her heart rather than in that of someone else. Still a third aim of religious obedience is that it be sacramental, that is, that it propose to us in visible form some extremely important truth of salvation. This was true in the case of Christ who is the sacrament of God's encounter with man and man's encounter with Paoli, "Obedience," pp. 287-8. k God. In Christ not only were God and His love for man revealed, but God also showed us in Him what it is for man to commit himself unconditionally to God the invisible Father. It was only upon His rising from the dead, because of the love and obedience of His life, that the Father established Him in power, or absolutely as Christ, the sender of the Spirit. In the Church also, the extension of Christ on earth, or the earthly body of Christ, it is in the word of obedience that God's will becomes manifest to us. This is why to a certain extent in the case of religious obedience, the word of.obedience is sacramental. It is not so much a word about some-thing as rather the sign under which God's saving will in Christ makes itself present for us here and now within our history. It is in and through obedience, through the word of authority that God's saving reality can address itself to spiritual persons, calling on them for the free obedience of faith and trusting surrender of love. Sal-vation becomes present to religious in the word of obedi-ence, a word which calls for a free personal assent. 'Christ's going out from the Father into the world, a world at enmity with God because of its sins, receives a commission to bear witness to mankind's dependence and need for even more dependence upon God. Only when He had lived His Sonship through to the very end in total obedience to the Father even to the death of the Cross was His divine Sonship fully revealed. Thus it was through His human life that the abiding expression of the Son's obedience to the Father became visibly ex-pressed, and it was His death itself that was the supreme expression or epiphany of His religious surrender to the Father. This self-giving in the way of obedience through self-dispossession is the very essence of the religious com-mitment in the service of God.6~ Thus the practice of obedience as a community affair and as a personal affair is intended to be a constant and visible reminder to all who see religious that all men, all creatures will have true joy only by remaining in a continuous and permanent state of complete and entire dependence on God, a state in which the love of a creature is constantly responding to the love of the Creator, or in the case of religious women a state of de-pendence in which the love of a bride is constantly re-sponding to the love and entreaties of her husband. Man has need of this image since the relationship of man-kind with God is feminine as Scripture so often points out. This sacramentalism of obedience has been very clearly shown by St. Paul in referring to Christian mar-riage: "You married women must subordinate your- ~ Schillebeeckx, Christ the Sacrament, pp. 18--9, 28. ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 189 4. 4. C,. A. $chleck, ~.$.C. REVIEW,'FOR RELIGIOUS 190 selves to your husbands as to the Lord. For a husband is the head of his wife just as Christ is the head of :the Church which :is his Body and is saved by Him. Just as the Church is in subjection to Christ, so married women must be in everything subject to their hus-bands." a~ As we mentioned when speaking of virginity, the marriage of the virgin.with Christ is the prototype or the model or exemplar of that existing between husband and wife. Thus the submission and obedience of the virgin of Christ to her Lord is to be the model or sacra-ment for all Christian men and women and also for the whole body of redeemed and unredeemed mankind, since this is called to relationship with Christ as His body-person, as His immaculate spouse, wedded to Him 'forever in undying love and submission or surrender, as He is to His Father, Thus there is a sacramental reality attached to the religious obedience of the woman that is not present in the case of the man. And it is this very ¯ modification which can make the practice of obedience something powerful and attractive. And it is this sacra-mental purpose of obedience that meets the need of the Church today. For it is more important than ever to show that obedience is universal in character ~and be-longs to the very, life of the Church. Religious life is not just an "extra, with regard to the Christian life; it is its mOSt~ striking .visible manifestation. Obedience brings to it the completion of our baptismal faith or perfects the consecration proper-to baptism,as If religious life and particularly obedience are to be truly a manifestation of the Christian. life in its perfection, then they must be truly radiant, .truly perfect. Only then~ will they serve their purpose for .existence in the Church; only then wil! they be 'truly alive and dynamic in the Church.a9 It is because of this sacramental aspect of obedience in ~ Eph 5:22 ft. ~ "Thus the profession of the evangelical counsels is a super-addition to that consecration which is proper to baptism. It is in-deed a special consecration which perfects the former oue,.iuasmuch as by it the follower ~f Christ totally commits himself and dedi-cates himself to God; thereby making his entire life a service to God alone" (Paul VI, Magno gaudio a~ecti; REVIEW VOR RI~LXGIOUS, V. 25 [1964], pp. 699-700). See also the Constitution on the Church, Chap-ter 6, n. 44; REVIEW VOR R~LIclous, v. 24 (1965), pp. 714-5; and J. Laplace, ':Education to Obedience," pp. 68-9. ~.This note of "sacramentality" should be seriously considered in all changes and adaptations. It is said that regularity weighs much less on young religious today than ever before. Remarks about re-ligious exercises are rather disparaging. They are considered quite out-of-date or naive~most probably because the values of these things have not been clearly presented. As one author remarks: "It is quite evident that we are suffering from a very evident lack of clear principles presenting valueJ behind certain religious exercises and regularity." We know that when values are not seen neither are the exercises. See M. Belanger, O.M.L, "Donum Dei" 3, pp: 106-7. religion that those who obey should obey as though they were obeying Christ or as the New Testament has it, "as to the Lord." 70 Those who are obeyed shot~ld find the pattern of their conduct in the love and care of Christ, and they must also remember that they in tLirn owe obedience to Christ also. It is in this way that subordination will be met by love and concern. To un-derstand the aims of obedience thus far discussed in this light would seem tocorrectly place obedience in our striving after the perfection of charity. It would give to both superiors and to subjects their respective roles and attitudes and mentalities towards this practice: It points out that the first and chief concern of all superiors, es-pecially major, is the. leading of their subjects to inti-mate union with God. Their primary duty is not the un-raveling of the material and °temporal and financial difficulties of their office nor the successful carrying out of the external apostolates and activities entrusted to the congregation or order. It is to "lead their subjects to God. It is only to the extent that they fulfill this duty that they are making their greatest contribution and gift to God, to the Church, and to their own religious family. To destroy or forget this role of the superior in a religious community is to destroy the [amily atmos-phere that God intended to characterize every religious society. For a superior can too easily become a purely juridical figure or image, one who gives out permis-sions of one kind or another or one who is merely an ad-ministrator, one who organizes the community's work and policies. And then she very quickly loses her primary role, that of being a mother to those of her daughters whom God's providence has placed under her direction so that they might be helped to the perfection of char-ity by reason of her having been in labor until Ghrist was formed in them. It is only when authority is sus-tained by love that it becomes authority in the real and true sense of the word. For only then can it look to God and to the love of God as its real foundation. For His authority is always ultimately a loving authority,~ even when it punishes or corrects.71 It is true that you can say that your religious when taking vows knew that a great sacrifice would be expected of them, the re-nunciation of their wills, their families, the happiness of marriage, and the intimacy of a family and horiae. But all this is a sacrifice, and your own religious because they are usually among the most high-souled and gen-erous women in the Church feel it most keenly. It is most impo.rtant that this element of love be inserted into Eph 5:22. The States o] Per[ection, p. 324. + + + Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 ]91 th~ exercise of authority in your-case; for as Pius XII re-marked once in speaking to superiors of religious com-munities of~women: It is no doubt true as psychology affirms that the woman in-vested with authority does not succeed as easily as a man in finding the exact formula for combining strictness with kindness and establishing the balance between them. That is an added reason for cultivating your .motherly sentiments.7' Where this spirit is present, you can be assured that the overall characteristic note of religious discipline and" obedience will be found both in the individual houses as well as in the community at large filial confidence and family warmth. It is this :spirit which includes com-plete embracing of rules and customs that lessens your own burdens and is so, conducive both to your own most ardent desires as well as those of your ~eligious the personal and corporate sanctification of all the members. You will always find that where there is mu-tu~ il conviction of'good will, a true family spirit in which.the authority of those in charge is respected and the needs and the different temperaments of those working with those in charge are taken into considera-tion is always present. And it is only this presence that can make of an individual house or an entire com-munity what it was meant to be in the sight of the en-tire Church and world: a training ground and a proving C. A. Schleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ra Address to Mothers General, 1952; The States of Perfection, p. 217. When I speak of a mother-daughter relationship, I am not advocating a type of relationship that begets or retains an emo-tional infantilism. This has been defined as "a persistence of re-sponses in an adult that indicates a manner of coping with needs and reacting in a way that corresponds to the psychological attitude or modality of childhood" (M. Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety [New York: Macmillan, 1963], p. 133). There is an exaggerated dependence with fear of responsibility and an unreasonable need of affection and approval. It is often this last need for affection and approval ~hat has given rise to much criticism from subjects who feel mature and yet are the most insecure members of the communityl This in-fantilism comes most often from inadequate home training. And how is religion to cope. with this? It can be done, but it is not easy. God did not allow religious institutes to come into being for the specific purpose of training emotional infants. The family is th~ unit established for thisI As Pius says: "A religious house differs ~rom the family home; it is not the same and does not try to be, because within its walls zeal for dedication and self-denial for the love ~of Christ, and the austere penitential practices [I think he would say possible todayl] involve some measure of discomfort and pain, N~vertheless, as far as possible the religious house shall en-deavor to become a loved family home for each one of the com-munity. And undoubtedly this will be' achieved more easily if all alike respect the foundation structure of the natural virtues which ~requently are the proof of abundant supernatural vigor and splendor" (Address to Discalced Carmelites, 1951; The States oI Perfection, p. 204). ground for sanctity, a kind of an ante-chamber to the beatific vision. Still a fourth aim of religious obedience is the effec-tive building of a community of service for the needs of the Body of Christ. While we cannot and must not make the efficiency of the external .apostolate or the creation of a well-ordered community the exclusive end of the prac-tice of religious obedience, it is nonetheless an end and an important one. This results from what we saw above of the very nature and purpose of authority-itself---the creation of the common good or the good of the com-munity. The Church exists as a mystery of communion, of the many in the one Body of Christ. In the building up of Christ's Body the different members have different functions to fulfill, functions which are meant to build up and unify the whole human race which is called to be part of the catholic unity of the People of God. It is especially through the practice of obedience that reli-gious are brought into community both to be a sigh'of the perfect community of love, the community of the earthly Church and that of the pa.rousia, and also to be at the service of the Church. All the energies and tal-ents and training of the various members are ordered and dovetailed tO be put at the service of Christ and His Church. In fact it is quite true to say that the theol-ogy of obedience and authority is in a special way a theology of unity~and communion. Such a spirit is so welcome in an age when we.are trying to correct some of the deviations which may have unintentionally crept into religious obedience b~ a heavy concentration on its legal aspects. While it is and will always remain very necessary for both superiors and subjects to know exactly and precisely what is involved in the canonical prescriptions of obedience or that amount of obedience without which the community or society could not possibly hope to achieve its objectives, it still remains the function of superiors to urge and of subjects to strive to attain the perIection of obedience or the spirit of obedience. Whereas canonical obedience prescribes and .correcdy sets very ~definite limits to the minimum practice required of the members of a reli-gious society, perfect obedience ,inclines one to look upon everything contained in the religious life as an op-portunity by means of which the members can bring their 'wills and their persons, their whole persons, into perfect accord with the will and the heart of Christ and His Church. It will tend to make them attain the ulti-mate end for which they enter religion--to suppress all selfishness of their special points of view and rejoice to be hsed for the one great work of the redemption of the human race. While it is true that in the last analysis + 4. + Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 + + ÷ C. A. SchCle.Sc.kC,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 194 it is the individual religious who will ultimately choose which of the two extensions of obedience she 4s going to take as her rule or norm--minimal obedience or per-fect-- authority does have much to do in shaping or forming a religious to one or other point of view. If authority continues to build up during the years of formation and also afterwards a greater awareness of the aims which we have just presented, it is much more likely that each religious would realize more and more as the years of her life pass by the promise of our Lord Himself to those who consent to follow Him closely: "My ~oke is sweet and my burden is ligh_ t." 7s How simply has all this been stated in the decrees of the Vatican Council: ¯. in order that he might derive greater fruit from his bap-tismal grace, he decides to free himself by his profession in the Church of the evangelical counsels from the impediments which might keep him from the fervor of charity and from giving God a perfect worship . Since the evangelical counsels by reason of the charity to which they lead, unite those who take them to the Church and her mystery in a special way, the spiritual life of those taking them should be consecrated also to the good of the entire Church. in accord with their capacities and the nature of their vocation . " In professing obedience, religious offer the full surrender of their own will as a sacrifice of themselves to God and so are united permanently and securely to God's salvific will. After the example of Jesus Christ who came to do the will of the Father and "assuming the nature of a slave" learned obedience in the school of suffering, religious under the motion of the Holy Spirit, subject themselve~in faith to their superiors who hold the place of God. Under their guidance, they are led to serve all their brothers in Christ, just as Christ Himself in obedience to the Father served His brethren and laid down His life as a ransom for many. So they are closely bound to the service of the Church and strive to attain the measure of the full manhood of Christ. Religious, therefore, in the spirit of faith and love for the divine will should humbly obey their superiors according to their rules and constitutions. Realizing that they are con-tributing to building up the Body of Christ according to God's plan, they should use both the forces of their intellect and will and the gifts of nature and grace to execute the commands and fulfill the duties entrusted to them. In this way religious obedi-ence, far from lessening the dignity of the human person, by ex-tending the freedom of the sons of God leads it to maturity. Superiors, as those who are to givaen ~ account of the souls entrusted to them, should fulfill their office in a way responsive to God's will. They should exercise their authority out of a spirit of service to the brethren, expressing in this way the love with which God loves their subjects. They should govern these as sons of God, respecting their human dignity. In this way they make it easier for them to subordinate their wills,~ r~Mt 11:30. Vatican II, Constitution on the Church, Chapter 6, n. 44; R~- wrw roa Rr_meious, v. 24 (1965), p. 714. Vatican II, Decree on Adaptation. The Qualities oI Religious Obedience Under this partic~ular heading many various consider-ations could be taken up. It seems best, however, to limit ourselves to a few by reason of their special con-temporaneity or timeliness: supernaturalness, interior-ness, and activeness. The Supernatural Quality o[ Obedience Perhaps no other quality of religious obedience seems to be suffering more today than that of its supernatural-hess. So many questions about and so many defections from the religious life, especially among older reli-gious, would seem to hinge on the motive because of which they live the religious life. This must be, funda-mentally at least, supernatural. And if religious obedi-ence is to be supernatural, then subjects must learn to obey, to carry out the tasks to which they are assigned and the rules and constitutions because these things represent for them the will of God, at least permissive, here and now. The pleasure or 'lack of pleasure that such an action gives or might give should not be the con-trolling motive; nor should the agreeableness or disagree-ableness of the person giving the command or making the decision; nor should the hope of some reward or advancement or fear of reprisal or anything such. The controlling motive in religious obedience should be: God has asked me to do this. The decisive reason for which we owe obedience to religious superiors is the authority invested in them by God. This authority is a supernatural qual!ty and is distinct from all qualities that may adorn a superior in the natural order. In.a sense it belongs t6 the order of charisms and is conferred by God through proper channels for the good of the religious commu-nity. It belongs to the order of faith both for the superior who needs more than the light of reason to recognize it and for the subject who comes to see God in the supe-rior by calling on his faith and who can come to tr6at the superior as God's representative only with the help of filial piety that is entirely supernatural.TM It belongs also to the order of love. For religious are urged to constantly strive to look beyond their superiors, direct-ing their obedience to the source of all authority, God, and to do so out of love and for love. As we have seen, the purpose or aim of obedience is to promote the growth of love; and love, in turn, is intended to enliven obedience and make it more fruitful. As our love grows deeper, so will our obedience to the great benefit of our own interior lives and to the incalculable profit of those who come under our personal influence. The true liberty ~6 Belanger, "Donum Dei" $, pp. 122-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 195~ 4. 4. 4. C. .4. $chleck, C.S,C. REV1EWFOR RELIGIOUS 196 of a religious consists not in initiative and responsibil-ity nor in terms of independence, at least primarily; it consists in perfect dependence on God, a dependence that is voluntary and cultivated as actively as possi-ble. For who is less a slave than a will that is truly mas-ter of the lower appetites and that has once and for all given itself entirely to the supreme good. It is Charles de Foucauld who once remarked that Christ took the lowest place in such a way that no one can ever take it from Him. This desire to be forgotten and unknown in loving imitation of the rejected Christ still represents the highest reach of Christian asceticism. There is no question, of course, of shrinking from great apostolic works or wasting one's talents. We are speaking of an attitude, a willingness to be content with the task as-signed, and of preference for the lower or less esteemed, when God's glory would permit such a choice.77 This is the ideal motivation to be looked for in regard to religious obedience. Yet if we are to believe reports and experience, it is much more difficult to achieve today than before.7s We seem to be faced with an acceptance of submission that is based on or conceived of in terms of sensitive interpersonal relationships, of liberties and rights to be safeguarded, of discussions with superiors, of private initiatives to be exercised, and, in the, case of some at least, of necessary resistance" to legitimately ex-ercised authority--a kind of religious sit-in. Again we find that there is a good deal of insecurity in the present generation of young people coming to us, even though this may be masked by an apparent confidence and poise, even forwardness. This insecurity, plus the brain-washing they receive through the various media of com-munication, tends to impel them to seek status. This is not always, perhaps not even usually, merely a selfish want. It is a genuine need for a position of security that will assure them of the esteem and support 0f others. Young religious, especially in communities in which counseling or nursing or teaching or other professional work is generally done, manifest considerable anxiety about possible prospects of being assigned to advanced study and also notable frustration and depression if they are passed over. Despite the democratic myth, status positions are a very prominent feature of our society. The only difference between now and before was that yesterday status was rigid; it was that into which you were born; today it is mobile, it is what you make it. Yet it is there as a frenetic push up and down some ladder reflecting insecurity and acting as a feedback to increase 7~ L. Bondy, C.S.B., "Donum Dei" 3, p. 153. ~ G. George, S.J., "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 82 ft. it.TM In the novitiate it may be piety--provided it is not too eccentric--whereas in the juniorate and later on it may be professional excellence even to the point of this becoming a kind of neurotic ambition. The real author-ity figures are the professors or teachers who replace the novice mistress or even juniorate mistress. And the area of competition and prestige shifts from spiritual competence and excellence to excellence in studies,s0 Again, we also find that after some years of profes-sional service in one or other of the apostolates of the community, the supernatural motivation has either not grown at all or has even notably regressed. And then obedience has become for such members only a trial, only a series of fetters and frustrations, so that psy-chologically they become convinced that the community and the religious life is more of a hindrance than a help not only professionally, but also spiritually, that is, in their striving after the perfection of love of God and neighbor. And we all know that there is nothing more painful than to see certain religious lose even the pri-mordial meaning and motivation of their vocation and forget the why of their presence in religious life and fall more and more into a state of regret for having entered and of irritation,sl In fact we can say that the really crucial moment of religious life comes some ten or fif-teen years after entrance, and it usually revolves on the question of obedience. The dream of perfect surrender if it was present earlier appears for what it really is, a daily cross even for the most holy. A less painful solu-tion than sanctity or defection is always at hand---the path of comfortable mediocrity. The problem is solved by simply lowering the ideal, often seeing it primarily or exclusively in terms of sociological and psychological terms and structures and solutions. The motives learned in the early years of formation lose their cogency, and they become an encumbrance rather than a help.s2 As a result of these problems brought about by the societal structure of today there is a growing tendency to feel that reasons must always be given a subject every-time she is asked to do something or given an assign-ment. And this is supported by the argument that only ~See V. Packard, The Status Seekers (New York: McKay, 1959), p. 253. so If this is not handled carefully by those in charge through constant education, formal and informal, intense inner conflict and confusion can result. The tensions in some community juniorates and scholasticates would bear out this idea of "value conflict." s~ Much of this is brought on by changes in outlook and by cer-tain crises considered in our treatment of virginity and to be men-tioned further on in this article. s~ Later on in the part on practical suggestions we shall see what can be done to forestall this occurrence. Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 197 4. c. ~. S~hled~, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS that authority is really strong which obtains consent and participation rather than mere compliance. To give orders is easy but to obtain commitment and intellec-tual and intelligent participation is a major challenge. It is an inescapable responsibility of authority and one which can easily be overlooked. If this principle is used within limits (and I think that it has been oftenS3), it is true and can be followed with-out harming the supernatural motivation of religious obedience. But to make this principle apply at all times and in all circumstances, and especially within the con-text of strict parliamentary procedure and democracy, would exceed its applicability and would indeed destroy the very nature of religious obedience. Every attempt to reduce the relationship between superior and subject to one of mere dialogue between the two, a dialogue in which the subject would not be really obliged to follow the decision, or one in which the subject would be always allowed--by the v.ery nature of the contract--to make his own choice, would destroy the whole notion of obedience and render the relationship between superior and subject within a religious context meaningless. As Plus XII mentioned in an address to a general congre-gation of the Society of Jesus in 1957: And those persons are straying far from the truth who consider that the teaching of the Letter (St. Ignatius' Letter on Obedience) is to be abandoned, and that in place of hierarchical and religious obedience there should be substituted a certain "democratic" equality which would permit the subject to discuss with his superior until agreement between them is reached.~' It is true that where one carries out a command or obeys a constitution or rule which he thoroughly under-stands and with which he is heartily in agreement, there is no question of disobedience. But neither is there necessarily an act of the virtue of obedience. It is quite possible that the subject does what she is given to do from motives that are simply natural or human. And this particularly if training along the lines~.of supernat-ural obedience has never been insisted on. The habit of always giving the reasons for obedience or of point-ing out the reasonableness of the command or assignment given could easily cause a psychological stance that would make the reasonableness of the command and the fact that we both agree on this a condition for obey-ing. Then the virtue has been dethroned, and the per-son could be placed in a precarious vocational situation ~This is used well by A. Greeley, "Fraternal Authority," pp. 562-5. ~ The States of Per]ection, p. 295. This is "selective obedience" at its worst. See C. Davis, "A Catholic Obedience," America, Novem-ber 7, 1964. as far as perseverance is concerned. For there are and there will always undoubtedly be situations in religion when a person will come under a superior who does not wish to or who cannot always give reasons or point out the reasonableness of something which has to be done. For sometimes, to point out the reasons would mean the violation of a secret (the reputation of another member of the community) entrusted to a superior only in virtue of her office, and perhaps after much prayer and reflec-tion, on the part of a subject. I am not saying that reasons should not be given and even frequently, perhaps. For supernatural obedience to really take effect, the formation of the natural on all levels (and not just will-power formation) must also be present. Candidates of 17-18-19-20 are in full adoles-cent development. They are products of today and the societal structures of today; and there is nothing to be gained by closing our eyes to what they are or what they come from, all that I have-mentioned above, demo-cratic environment, a milieu of status-striving, an at-mosphere of constant questioning, and striving for inde-pendence. In fact, we can even ask ourselves seriously whether or not the cultural determinants in the United States today do not make it much more difficult for the majority of young religious to ever arrive at real ex-cellence in the supernatural practice of obedience. At least it is more difficult to arrive there. And superiors and those in training programs must accept this fact.s5 Thus it is very useful and necessary to give specific rea-sons for which things are done to facilitate obedience in the subject (to enlighten their minds before they act), to increase maturity, and even to prevent criticism. Thus the natural good and the spiritual good of the subjects dspecially in the very early training years would dictate that such a policy could and should be followed. But as the theology and meaning of religious obedience is ex-plained to them, occasions, not artificial or contrived but natural and arising out of circumstances, should be given to subjects when they will not be given the rea-sons why they are asked to do this or that. These of course should be given according to the capacity of each subject. This grad~4al training will most likely be much slower today. What we regard as alarming and perhaps a symptom of decline in regard to religious motivation and the nature of the young girl is a retarded appearance of a rather normal adolescence crisis centering around the struggle for independence from authority. Likewise in the case of older religious passing through an obedience crisis (usually around the mid-thirties), you s~ G. George, S.J., "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 82-$; L. Bondy, ibid., pp. 151-2. 4- 4- 4- Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 ]99 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS will find pressures making it extremely difficult for them to'respond in an ideal way. She must be helped through this to a deeper and more mature self-gift in and through obedience without sacrificing the essentials of the super-natural quality of obedience merely to keep peace in the family or keep a restless section of the community pacified. Thus the real danger in regard to the supernatural quality of obedience today lies not in the acceptance of the subjects as they are at various stages of personal and cultural development (for this is necessary), but in superiors not willing or a[raid to make the effort to lead them higher and [urther, to a more per[ect supernat-ural obedience as described above. Religious obedience like everything else that pertains to the order of grace is very ofte6 mysterious and demands a deep spirit of faith. Faith, however, is of things that are not seen, of things that lie beyond the grasp and comprehension of mere human reason. They pertaiia to another order of things, the supernatural order, the order of eternity or God in time, and consequently must remain mysterious. Not to train a religious gradually and in keeping with her capac.ity to live in this order would be to destroy the supernatural spi.rit that must lie at the very root of reli-gious obedience.8~ The In~erior Quality o[ Obedience A second quality that must characterize religious obedience and that stands in need of clarification today is its inter.iorness, For obedience to be truly interior, one that touches the very heart of man and not merely a mechanical exterior compliance with directives, it must touch both the will and the intellect. In fact, exterior obedience should be the crowning action of religious obedience embodying and giving visibility to the interior obedience of the will and the intellect. So often obedience of the will is badly misunderstood. It is taken as dying to self-will or as annihilating one's will. This is true if we speak of the specifically selfish in the will, its ill-regulated aspect, But in another and perhaps far more accurate sense obedience per[ects the will instead of suppressing it. It is not a passive virtue consisting in not-wanting. It is positive and active and is meant to consist in wanting as intensely as possible ~The greatest thinkers, often those who have personally suf-fered much from authority, have generally been its staunchest de-fenders and the most supernaturally obedient of men. Teilhard de Chardin i:ould write: "In spite of Rome's having its own r~asons for judging that in the present form my concept of Christianity may be premature or incomplete, I am resolved to remain a child of obedience." what God wants. And in this it finds its highest perfec-tion ~nd fulfillment. The will attains its perfection when it is in possession Of its object, which is the good; and the greater the good, the more is the will perfected. Since the divine will is the object of the human will in religious obedience, the human will is perfected in a supreme degree. In a sense, then, obedience of the will is meant to touch and fashion the whole heart so that a religious ever more fully obeys as life progresses, not through constraint but rather through a connatural in-clination or through that inclination which comes through the gradual growth of the virtue. Just as the eyes are instinctively attracted by beauty of sight and the ears by beauty or harmony of sound, so too the will of a re-ligious should as the years pass by become more and more connaturally attracted by the good which it finds in obedience to God. A religious obeys or should obey because she recognizes the right of another to'command her and because she wishes this other person to have this right and because she loves the order that has been given. Only the supernatural virtue of obedience can bring about this love of authority and command in the life of a religious, and this is not an easy task. It is a constant struggle, but it is something that she should be aiming at from the moment that she embraces this life. And it will certainly grow in the religious who co-operates with all the graces given her in this regard. Obedience so understood does not consist in con-straint, It is rather a free act which alone has full value before God. And it is a kind of sacramental embodiment of the stance of our Lord: ,I lay down my life; no one can rob me of it; for I lay it down of my own accord." 87 In fact we might note that it is to facilitate this obedi-ence in freedom that in nearly all communities the rules and constitutions do not of themselves oblige under pain of sin. It is with this object in view, to draw' out,of subjects a free and voluntary obedience, that most supe-riors today prefer to request rather than to issue strict commands.88 When we come to the other side of interior obedience, obedience o[ the intellect, we touch on a problem that can easily present extreme difficulties both for subjects and for superiors. We have often heard it said that for obedience to be perfect it demands the submission of one's judgment as well as of one's will. This has to be understood carefully, however, Often it is understood to mean that the religious is forced to abdicate her judg-ment and the normal exercise of her intellect. Yet when + + 4- Obedience 8*Jn 10:17-8. ss R. Morency, S.J., "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 16~-5. VOLUME 25, 1966 4. C. A. $chleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS correctly understood, religious obedience, just as it re-spects the normal orientation of the will, also respects the normal orientation of the intellect. What religious obedience demands is that we submit to others, the rules and constitutions and legitimate authority, our prac-tical judgment at all times, save where an obviously sinful action is prescribed. It also requires that we sub-mit our speculative judgment when this is possible. I say "when this is possible" because what is sacrificed by religious obedience is our speculative judgment. But if there happens to be an instance in which the judgment to be made is not ours to make but is dictated by norms or laws or principles extrinsic to us (and well-qualified norms), then we cannot sacrifice our judgment nor do we have the right to sacrifice it because the judgment in this case is really not ours to give. Such would be the case in the following rather obvious examples: two plus two equals five, or square pegs are best put into round holes. Our speculative judgment could not pos-sibly make us accept these judgments simply because they are not ours to give. They are dictated by norms extrinsic and objective to ourselves which we cannot change and have no right to change. Thus obedience of the judgment does not consist in our bowing before every decision of superiors without judgment of any kind. Quite the opposite. Obedience of the judgment requires the exercise and the use of one's judgment. Nor does obedience of the judgment de-mand that we think the same as our superior thinks or that we judge to be most perfect in itself all that the superior commands, speculatively speaking. The supe-rior is not infallible and can make mistakes. She can at times act imprudently and even unjustly,s° This difficulty, while perhaps rarer in the past because often superiors were far better educated than their sub-jects, is one that is frequent in religious life today. Many subjects have as good, if not better, training in their fields of work than their superiors. We may have a superior of a community engaged in hospital work who ¯ has never been trained in the field. It is quite likely that the problems of the religious engaged in that work will not always be understood by her or handled in the wis-est and most prudent manner. Or we have a superior of a house of philosophy or theology who has spent his en-tire priestly life in parish work or in the field of mis-sionary endeavor. It is quite possible for such a person to make decisions which the subjects, let us say the fac-ulty members, know by their own experience of years of teaching not to be the most prudent or wise. To such Ibid., pp. 177, 162. judgments and decisions no subject can yield his or her speculative judgment simply because he or she does not possess the right or the ability to yield or to make this judgment conform to that of the one in charge. Obedience of judgment, then, does not demand that we canonize all the actions of superiors nor obey be-cause and to the extent that the command is reason-able as this is usually understood. It demands that she recognize this principle: "It does not belong to me to make the decision; it belongs to the superior." Thus a religious cannot regulate her own will or what she does by her own judgment but by the judgment of the su-perior since it is this judgment that she has taken as her rule of action in the practical here and.now situation. She sees in it the designs of God Himself directing her to the end which He has set up foi- her from all eternity. By obedience she vows to give up acting on and accord-ing to her own judgment independently of superiors, which is not the same as giving up the right to make a judgment or to form one. To give up this right would destroy the liberty and freedom and the voluntariness which is so essential in making religious obedience the holocaustal offering of one's will to God. For obedience is not simply a mechanical action on the part of a hu-man person. It is a most personal action and therefore should be freely accomplished. It is an action in which the subject [reely adjusts her will to that of the superior. TO obey without having' moral certitude that such an act is licit is immoral simply because a person is respon-sible for all that she accomplishes, even of that which she does out of obedience. Here, of course, we must be cautious. To establish that an order is legitimate does not take long reflection. In fact, if there is long reflec-tion about the legitimacy of a command, it is usually a sign that the person is psychologically disturbed or hy-percritical and is not an appropriate instrument to de-termine if in the concrete an order is or is not legiti-mate. However, wherever there is question of mere opinion, then obedience will incline us to follow the opinion of the superior to the extent that this is possible. Often-times the position of the superior on something or other is somewhat doubtful, some reasons in favor of it, others opposed. In this case obedience of judgment asks that we consider rather the favorable reasons and be not too strongly attached to the possible objections, that is, if we are to assure a more perfect agreement of will and of judgment. This case often happens in regard to the more practical cases of action, assignments, and so forth, where the superior has a much wider acquaintance with all the factors involved in the decision, ,factors which 4- 4- 4- Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 2O3 ÷ C. A. $chleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS subjects cannot see because of their limited vision, fac-tors which affect individuals of the same or different houses or even persons outside the commfinity. Very of-ten a superior is faced with the alternative of the lesser of two evils. We should note that a truly obedient reli-gious wishes that the superior should be right and is always ready to renounce her own will and opinion with ease insofar as it is simply her own. This as we realize demands intense virtue, but it is a goal which every religious should be working to reach. As for "blind" obedience it must not be thought to consist in seeing nothing; rather it consists in submitting one's practical judgment to that of the superior even when the action commanded or the decision indicated to be followed is truly unreasonable from the merely human point of view. For the religious then obeys not becau

Issue 24.2 of the Review for Religious, 1965. ; The Major Superior an~ Her Subjects' Vocation by Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C. 161 Approach to Mental Prayer by Thomas Dubay, S.M. 188 To Be Samaritans All by Michael M. Dorcy, S.J. 201 The Insecure Junior Sister by Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. 209 The Prayer of Christ by Yves M.-J. Congar, O.P, 221 Weep--There Is No Other Way by George A. Maloney, S.J. 239 Nun in the World by Mother M. Claudia, I.H.M. 244 Conte.mplation by Ladislas M. Ors'j, S.J. 248 The Superior as Community Counselor by Sister Angelina Marie, C.D.P. 265 For Teresa, Dying of Cancer by T. J. Steele, S.J. 273 Survey of Roman Documents 274 Views, News, Preview~ 280 Questions and Answers 286 Book Reviews 293 VOLUV_~ 24 NUMBER 2 March 1965 ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. William J. Weiler, S.J" DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Woodstock College Woodstock, Mar~l~md o~ i63 Book Reviews ~ormtm Weyand, S.J. Bellarmine School of Theology of Loyola University o30 South Lincoln Way North Aurora, Illinois 6o543 ÷ ÷ Edited with ecclesiastical approval by the faculty of St. Mary's College, the Divinity School of St. Louis University. Published bi-monthly and copyright, 1965, by Review for Religious at 428 East Preston St., Baltimore, Md. 21202. Printed in USA. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: 60 cents. Subscription USA and Canada: $3.00 a year, $5.75 for two years; other countries: $3.35 a year. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order. Checks and money orders should be made payable to Review for Religious in U. S. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to repre-sent Review for Religious. Change of address requesta should include former address. Renewals, new subscriptions, changes of ad-dress and business corres~ondence should be sent to: Review for Religious, 428 E. Preston Strut, Baltimore, Maryland 21902. Manu-scripts and editorial correspondence should be sent to: Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, St. Mary's, Kausa~ 66536. Quesdous and books for review should be sent to the respective departmental editors. MARCH I 965 VOLUME o4 NUMBER ~ CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. The Major Superior and the Meaning of Her Subjects' Vocation If* one were to investigate the various pontifical docu-ments having special reference to religious communities, he would find them often referring to these as "fami-lies." This seemingly simple expression contains within itself a whole host of suggestions, and in the end would seem to be the nucleus for the spirit (and this would include even the government) and spirituality of every religious community. For these, as we know, have their existence and strength from their communion and inti-mate connection with the end of the Church itself--to lead men to the acquisition of holiness. And how im-portant they are for the life of the Church has been clearly stated by Pope Pius XII in rather striking and forceful terms: The Church would not fully correspond to the will of our Lord, nor would the eyes of the majority of men be raised to her in hope and joy as a standard set up unto the nations or as a sign standing in the heavens, unless there were found in her some who more by example than by word, were especially re-splendent with the beauty of the Gospel? This role of the religious community is not at all foreign to the economy of salvation established by God. All communication between God and man has tended to adopt a sacramental medium--language, representa- ¯ In the summer of 1962 Father Schleck gave a series of six lectures to the Conference of Major Superiors of the United States. The pres-ent article is a revised version of the first of these conferences. The other five conferences will be published in revised form in later issues of the REVI£W. 1Address to Superiors General, February 11, 1958, in The States o] PerIection, ed. Gaston Courtois (Westminster: Newman, 1962), pp. 317-8. Fr. Charles A. Schleck, C.8.C., teaches theology at Holy Cross College; 4001 Harewood Road, N.E.; Wash-ington, D.C. 20017. VOLUME 24, 161 ÷ ÷ ÷ Cha~es A. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16~ tion, the written or the spoken word, events, customs, even garb and dress. It is in this work, that is, in bring-ing before men the visible mark of holiness characteriz-ing and setting off the true Church of Christ, that religious superiors, especially major superiors, are as-sociated with the Church and her bishops and sovereign pontiff, either by receiving jurisdiction as is true of ~nale exempt orders, or by receiving dominative power by reason oF the approbation of the rules and constitu-tions peculiar to a religious institute.2 Thus, while it is the work of the Holy Spirit to begin, and to nourish and foster, and to bring to consummation the work of grace or of God's special love for those called to the religious life, still He associates with Himself in this work and service, so-called secondary causes or auxiliary instruments in whom He wishes to incarnate His own power and love and through whom He wishes this to be communicated to others. It is for this reason that the Apostle Peter writes: Whatever the endowment God has given you, use it in service to one another like good dispensers of God's mercy; if one does some service, let him do it with the strength which God sup-plies, so that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ? In you, however, this governing role was meant to take definite shape and form. This is evident from the very nature of a religious community which we have called, just above, a family. For a family is a group of persons ruled or governed by those who have been established over it by God--a father and a mother. And this is most important for our present considerations. For the characteristic virtue of family life is not legal justice, or human activity on a quid pro quo basis, but rather piet)~, a potential part of the virtue of justice, adding to it the modification which is brought about by the intimacies and warmth of family life. It is the virtue of justice, we might say, with a heart. For all of you the manner of governing that is to be looked for and expected by all, both those inside the religious life and those outside, even those who view your communi-ties from a distance, must always be that of a woman, a mother. Indeed the title which all or most of you bear quite clearly indicates this wish and ardent hope of the Church and the entire family oF God. This title is at one and the same time the measure and indicator oF your function and task and also the measure oF the crowning glory which God intends for each of you in assigning you your particular role in the Church. For if it is He who elects you or appoints you to your task as He did Ibid. 1 Pt 4:10-1. the Mother of the Lord, He at the same time, as He did for her, makes available for you all the graces both ac-cording to their extension and intensity that are de-manded in the work entrusted to you.4 God made every woman by nature generous, merciful, and compassion-ate; and He gave her the desire to offer herself for others. He implanted in her as her essential spirit and movement the spirit of giving, of molding, of forming, of clothing whatever she touches, of mothering it, and of loving it. And the most noble aspect of this mother-hood is the lifting up of those persons she calls her children to God. That is why the motherhood officially given to you by the Church is the most sublime that could possibly be given to any woman. In a religious community of sisters the governing power is given into the hands of women that they as mothers might lead those under them to the common goal of the entire Christian community--the eternal participation of the body-person of Christ in the mar-riage feast of the Lamb. The role of anyone entrusted with shepherding others has very well been pointed out by Isaiah: It is thine to restore those bound in darkness to freedom and light; it is thine to pasture the flock of God and provide feeding grounds for them as they make their way through barren up-lands. Under your care they will neither hunger nor thirst, nor will the heat of the noon-day sun overpower them. For you will be to them a merciful shepherd that will lead them to welling fountains and give them to drink of life-giving water? In you this shepherding assumes a rather well-defined mode of expression. It is to be accomplished in accord-ance with the precise externalization which human nature takes in its being found in women rather than in men. It is precisely by using the qualities and gifts peculiar to women that you make your service contribu-tion to the glory of God and to the welfare of His Church and of your own communities. And this service contribution which you make to these ends is most im-portant today. For the Church was meant to be a mighty organization, hierarchical, structured, full of honor and dignity, having its laws and penalties and the power to enforce them. But the Church was also meant to be a Mother, patient, kind, gentle, tender, full of understanding and compassion. Both you and your subjects are always at hand to remind the Church of this maternal aspect of her mission. It is more than evident from the many writings that have appeared on the subject in recent years that a woman called to the religious life is not at all deprived See Summa theologiae, 3, q.27, a.4. h 49:44. ÷ ÷ ÷ Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 ]63 ÷ 4. ÷ Charles A. SchCle.c~k.C, . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 164 of motherhood. Rather she is called to exercise this function of her being in a much more intensive and ex-tensive manner than is possible in marriage. It is a motherhood that nourishes and molds and centers its whole activity on the life of Christ. By the grace of her vocation she receives in a single fulfillment the two deepest longings of a woman's heart--her woman's desire for motherhood, and her virgin's desire to be wholly God's, wholly surrendered to Him. All this is quite clear in the case of the ordinary religious sister. But I wonder how often those called to exercise supreme authority in service within religious communities of women realize that they are not at all dispensed from this work of woman but rather are called to exercise a more noble and more universal expression of this same function. They are called by God's providence to exer-cise this same activity in reference to the "more illustri-ous portion of the flock of Christ," those who by God's special predilection and love have been called to the vocation of virginity, which is the marriage of a human person with the Lord. Like the work of the Mother of God in redemption, yours is that of associate, con-tributing under the Spirit and with the Spirit to the work of your subjects' sanctification as Mary did in reference to the Church--as a partner, as a woman, and as a mother. In Christ we are given to see that all is priestly. In Mary we are given to see that all is womanly, all is motherly. Her role in the sanctification of the human race was different from that of Christ. Her "merit," her sacrificial oblation, her ransom, all were those of a woman, a mother. She worked along with Christ her Son, but not as an equal, not as one engaged in the same order of operation. Her office was addi-tional, complementary. It is true that oftentimes this work is most difficult, much more diffficult than the motherhood exercised by your subjects. But the greater the motherhood to which one is called, the more suffering and the more participa-tion in the cross-mystery must she expect to fall to her lot. Nor is this so strange. It will always be true that a mother's greatest suffering is interior, that which cen-ters around the emotions, that which involves anxiety, worry, and concern. And usually it comes only at the end of her function when she finds herself no longer in complete control of the minds and hearts of the persons under her, when she must deal with them no longer as children but as mature adults destined to their own proper creativity and life. Since this is always the situa-tion in which major superiors are called to exercise their office of ministry and service, they know with their election or appointment the rather difficult phase of motherhood to which the5, are called. It was because of this difficulty that the late sovereign pontiff Pius XII attemped to recall the image which the major superior must attempt to cultivate in the eyes of her religious: It is no doubt true, as psychology affirms, that the woman in-vested with authority does not succeed as easily as a man in finding the exact formula for combining strictness with kind-ness, and establishing the balance between them. This is an added reason for cultivating your motherly sentiments. You can say that the vows have exacted from your Sisters as from your-selves a great sacrifice. They have renounced their family, the happiness of marriage and the intimacy of the home. It is a sacrifice of great value, of decisive importance for the apostolate of the Church, but it is still a sacrifice. Those of your Sisters who are the most high-souled and refined, are the ones who feel this detachment most keenly. The words of Christ "no one put-ting his hand to the plough and looking back is fit for the king-dom of God" finds its application to the full, and nowadays, too, without reserve. But the religious order must take the place of the family as far as possible, and it is you, the superiors general, who are expected in the first instance to breathe the warmth of family affection into the community life of the Sisters. You must, therefore, yourselves be motherly in your exterior behavior, in your words and your writings, even if sometimes this calls for the exercise of self-restraint; but above all, be motherly in your innermost thoughts, your judgments, and as far as possible, your sympathetic feeling. Pray every day to Mary the Mother of Jesus and our mother, to teach you how to be motherly." It is quite evident that your motherhood is to reflect and in a sense continue to image that of Mary. And Mary's motherhood is one that is pure, stainless, free from every trace of contamination of the shadow, of the terrible aspect of the mother-image, of the destructive wiles of the "anima," of the desire to possess or be un-scrupulous in protecting and reducing to childishness the creative powers of those under her, of refusing to give them up to their destiny which is for them also, each in her turn and each according to her own way, to give fruit to the life of the Church of God. Thus your motherhood centers around women, not girls; and it must never become maternalistic or harmful or destruc-tive to their legitimate growth as distinct persons, to their adjustments to society and adult life. It is the proper task of a real mother to foster her daughter's competence and well-defined independence, rather than their opposites. To accomplish this task many things ought to be found in you. First, there should be a workable knowl-edge of the principles of spiritual theology, of the ~ Address to Superiors General, September 15, 1952, in The States o[ Per/ection, p. 217. 4. 4. Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 166 history and forms of the religious life in history, an experiential knowledge and almost the founder's or foundress' love for your own religious community, its constitutions, its customs, the authors of its spirituality, and its activities or apostolates. To this there shouId also be added a practical knowledge of the canon law governing religious communities of women, a practical knowledge of feminine psychology, and some principles of guidance. Second, there should also be present a discretion or prudence that is like wisdom, reaching from end to end. This would include tact, winning manners, knowledge of the human heart at its various levels of development--the young, the mature, the mid-die- aged, and the old. This discretion and prudence for our present consideration will also include a motherly vigilance, a dispassionate firmness that is without weak-ness, the ability to foresee and anticipate the needs of soul and body, an unfailing patience, and a zeal that is tem-perate, that knows how to wait and to seek out or receive those who come to you moved by God's grace. A third element or ingredient that you should possess is experi. ence, of the various apostolates, actually exercised if pos-sible or at least vicarious, of the problems and the diffi-culties they normally cause to religious; also an experience and awareness of human failings, not the least of which are your own failings and half-acknowledged shortcom-ings, a grasp of your assets and liabilities which would give you a proper and ordered self-love, with the desire to employ the former and guard against and make up for the latter, through the normal channels of the Christian life, not the least of which is consultation and personal direction. Finally, genuine holiness ol lile is required. For you ought to be not so much a teacher or one who hands out practical rules of life, of doing, and of making, nor just an interpreter of your community's spirit, but first and foremost a master of its life. For it is your privilege and obligation to see to it that the young life which God entrusts to you is begun correctly, or brought to birth in the novitiate, and then formed and made viable in your juniorates, and matured and intensified and deepened throughout the entire course of its existence in your religious family. For the motherhood with which you are entrusted by the Church does not end until you are relieved of your responsibility or until one or other of your subjects closes her eyes in death in order to greet her Lord in life. The perpetuity and continuation of a fervent community (and the life and vitality of the Church depends more upon this than upon numbers) rests with the major superiors' capacity to maintain and deepen in their subjects the spirit of the Church and of the founder or foundress whose exemplary causes they are meant to be.7 In treating of this quality or ingredient of holiness last, it is not my intention to consider it as the least important of all. Second to prudence it occupies the most important place perhaps. Knowledge in itself is not fruitful. It must be united with love. And how else can religious be taught the ways o[ God, schooled in the Lord's service if their own superiors do not possess these? You must remember that your subjects have entered religion in order to seek sanctity according to this way of life. And this is to be learned from those who are set over them in the intinaacy of their community life. It is along this line that much more stress could be laid today. The quality of the teaching of any master of the Christian life--and this is the primary role of superiors: to lead her subjects to sanctity--will be that of her own life. A young and generous soul will find no better way to learn renuncia-tion or surrender through charity than by following in the path of one who herself is practicing these same things. A secret strength goes out from her and is in some way imparted to those who come in contact with her. The ability to love the religious life and to instill this love into others is most important today when it is so easy not only for those outside the religious life, but even for those inside, to be or to become confused in their "vision of the special function and immutable im-portance of the religious state within the Church." s The primary work of a superior is to teach her subjects how to love God, how to make the gift of oneself the surrender of one's personal mystery to God and the service of the Church, a living reality. Since the religious life is essentially a theologal life, a life of faith, hope, and love, and a sacramental repre-sentation of the transcendent goal of the Christian community--the paschal mystery--it is important that these be lived by those in charge. No long dissertation or reasoning or logic will affect others on these points. The superior must live these, for it is only by being a living exemplar of them that she can really hope to exert her teaching on others. As St. Gregory the Great writes: Like Moses, a superior ought to be seen frequently going in and out of the tabernacle and while there caught up in con-templation such that when she comes out she may give hersel[ over to the needs of her subjects and tasks. She must be known as one who truly serves God and His Church.' T See The Gilts o[ the Holy spirit (Notre Dame: St. Mary's College, 1961), pp. 1 ft. 8Address to All Religious, May 23, 1964; N.C.W.C. ed., pp. 6-7. 8Pastoral Care, II, 5 ("Ancient Christian Writers," v. 11 [West-minster: Newman, 1950], pp. 56-8 passim. 4. Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 167 + + Charles A. $chleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 168 Such a life would be appreciated by almost all who saw it. It would be like the light shining on the moun-tain or the city built thereon. And this is as it should be. For while a superior should not seek the praise of others in conducting herself, this does not mean that she should not seek to be loved; but she should seek this in order that this love might prove to be a path leading to the Lord. It is most ditIicult for one who is not loved by her subjects, however well she might preach, or exhort, and provide logic for the life o[ holiness, to find a sym-pathetic hearing from those who make up her audience. "!'his exhortation to holiness is always most timely for anyone in at~thority. Often it happens that when a person undertakes the cares o[ government her heart becomes distracted by the many things demanding her attention. And then she may find that she neglects that which is most important. For when one in authority implicates herself more than is needful with what is external, it is as though she were so occupied with the actual journey that she forgets the destination. The net result is that she becomes a stranger to self-examination and is no longer aware of her own faults and the great harm that is perhaps being given to others. The care of the inner life cannot be relaxed for the sake of pre-occupying herself with external matters. On the other hand respect for the inner life should not bring about any neglect of the external either, for this is also an essential means of her sanctification and her service of Christ and His Church.a° This balance should be main-tained above all by the major superiors of religious communities. Otherwise, it is most likely that the life of her subjects will grow languid because even though they may wish to make spiritual progress, they are con-fronted with a stumbling block in the example of those over them. When the head languishes, it is rather diffi-cult for the members to retain their vigor. It is in vain that an army seeking victory over the enemy follows its leader if she has lost her way. While the office to which you have been chosen by divine providence lays upon you many duties and func-tions- administrator, organizer, pioneer, missionary, counselor, psychologist, financier (a kind of jack-of-all-trades)-- the one which overshadows all and which sub- 10 This need of the major superior, indeed of every superior, is one more reason why superiors should employ the rule of subsidiarity-- the tendency to delegate and subdelegate, especially in large institu-tions. St. Gregory again provides us with the pertinent text: "Subjects are to transmit inferior matters, so that superiors are left to fre-quently attend to the higher things, so that the eye which is set above for guiding the steps of the body may not be annoyed by dust. For all superiors are the heads of their subjects and should look forward that the feet may not go astray" Pastoral Care, pp. 68, ft. sumes them and colors them or affects them is that of being a woman and mother at the service of the com-munity. Only to the degree that this spirit permeates these functions will they be conducive to your own holi-ness, to that of your community, and to that of the Church.lz Of all these various services, however, the one which is most immediately connected with mother-hood by reason of the very nature of the society which you govern and direct is that of seeing to the spiritual development of your religious. In the series of confer-ences that we are engaged upon here, it is this aspect of your special "vocation" within a vocation that has fallen to me. By reason of the limitation of time and the vast-ness of the pertinent matter on this subject, only a few basic considerations along these lines can be taken up. They are meant to serve as directives and approaches which each of you might follow up through reading and prayer and consultation in regard to the same and other topics falling within the scope of this task. It was sug-gested by one of the members of the executive com-mittee that the areas of the vows, especially the positive aspects, and that of the apostolate might be treated. As a result the following general topics have been chosen, each, of course, with its necessary further delineations: (1) the major superior and the vocation of her subjects; (2) religious poverty and sanctification; (3) virginity and sanctification; (4) religious obedience and sanctification; (5) common life and sanctification; and (6) the apostolate and sanctification. In following out these considerations it will be my intention wherever possible to treat them both from the point of view of theory and practice, at least along general lines, such that the practice may be seen to flow out of and be governed by the theory of the topic dis-cussed. It is true that most of the problems which you encounter in the course of your ministry are of a practi-cal nature, demanding practical and concrete or down-to- earth decisions. Still it seems to me that unless you are acquainted with the directive principles which pru-nA similar idea was indicated by Pius XII in reference to the spirit which should underlie the use of canon law: "Canon law like everything else in the Church is wholly directed to the care of souls, so that by the aid and guidance of laws, too, men may secure the pos-session of the truth and grace of Christ, and may live, grow, and die in holiness, piety, and fidelity to faith. Whether in the administration of ecclesiastical affairs, or in the exercise of judicial functions, or in giving the benefit of his advice to the sacred ministers, or the faithful, the canonist should constantly recall to mind that he must render an account for the welfare of souls to whom he can render great services, but to whom he can also do great harm" (Address on the Fourth Cen-tenary of the Gregorian University, October 17, 1953, in The Catholic Priesthood, ed. Pierre Veuillot [Westminster: Newman, 1957], bk. 2, pp. 270-1). ÷ ÷ ÷ Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 169 4, + + Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 170 dential judgment has to follow in coming to a decision affecting an existential here-and-now situation, it is very easy to be or to become confused (especially by reason of the complicated circumstances of today's religious life) and so arrive at a decision which would not be the best. Such a decision could easily inflict a sometimes serious harm, if not immediately at least in the future, to the lives of not only individuals but also that of your entire community and to the very life of the Church itself. It could also harm the image and therefore the effectiveness of the religious sister who occupies a more respected place here in our own country than perhaps in any other place in the world. The Major Superior and the Meaning of the Vocation of Her Subjects It is axiomatic that the whole order of grace has been ordered by God and is communicated to man in accord-ance with the nature he possesses. Thus the subject or person receiving divine communication will incarnate it and make it visible, will show its effects in a way that is patterned after the very nature of the subject. The very nature of God and His love-relationship to man were meant to be reflected not only in Christ but in all of those who would be incorporated into His body-person, the Church. For the Church is the sacramental continuation of Christ who is the perfect self-expression o~ the Father. She is His body, flesh of His flesh and bone of His bone, as we find foreshadowed already in Genesisa2 and stated by St. Paul in his letter to the Ephesians.~3 While human nature is essentially or fun-damentally the same in both man and woman, we find it existing in each of them with profound differences and modes of expression. And this foundation and the deepest significance of this sexual polarity originates not just in nature alone or from God as the author of nature, but in the supernatural sphere or from God as the author of man's supernatural existence. According to the Bible, it is in the polarity of man and woman where we find the image and likeness of God, in fact so much so that only in man and woman taken together do we find and discover what one author has called "the blessed icon of God." In fact it would seem that we must conclude that the physical and biological differences which we find exist-ing between man and woman indicate or point to some-thing much more profound, and that is the difference of soul or human spark, the difference of personality, which exists on all and every level of their being-- ~ Gn 2:23. ~8 Eph 5:22 ft. intellectual, volitional, and emotional, as well as physi-cal and biological. Consequently, when God's grace-communication incarnates itself in woman it takes on a shape and form different from that found in man, and it expresses itself along very well-defined lines. Thus, to understand and to be able to guide or direct or form or shape or mold the life and dynamism of the woman in the order of grace, demands that one know what she is in the order of nature.14 If we were to analyze or look into the overall makeup of woman on all the levels mentioned above, we would see first of all that she is much more alTective or love-directed than man in her approach to reality. It is for this reason that she tends towards the personal and the living. To cherish, to keep, and to protect what is per-sonal and living--this is her natural, her authentically feminine propensity.15 She was created by God to be the complement of man, subject to him in domestic or family life. She was to be the heart and soul of man, of the human race, its vital force, like the human heart that moves the hnman body to action. She has received and she possesses human nature in such a way that its loving force, its receiving capacity, its conserving capacity, its pondering capacity, and its formative, molding capacity are rather strikingly manifest. Indeed it is because she possesses these capacities that she by reason of her entire personality, her body, her soul, her powers of under-standing, her capacity for love, her almost inexhaustible devotion, is made to mother the human race in one capacity or another. She is made to know it as only a mother can know it, in all of its depths, its sublime potentialities, and also in its most embarrassing and material and temporal needs. It is for this reason that God has endowed woman with a family instinct, a maternal instinct, which can be used to build a human family or something far more extensive, the family of man or the family of God. A woman is potentially mother not only in reference to individual beings, but in reference to nature as a whole, to the whole world. And this is rather important for us to recall. For once stress is laid upon this view of woman, her need and power to create in cooperation with man, it can be seen that this need and power is something that can quite easily go beyond the limited confines of the husband-wife couple and encompass all the relations existing between men and women in reference to the human family. This direct and intimate relationship with persons rather x'See F. X. Arnold, Man and Woman (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963). The entire work is excellent on this point. ~ The Writings o] Edith Stein, ed. Hilda Graef (London: Peter Own, 1956), p. 161. ÷ ÷ ÷ Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24~ "1965 '4" 4. Charles A. Schleck, C.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than with things tends to make her world compact, which is not to be understood in the sense of narrow, but rather as a concentration on what is near at hand. And this is usually true even in her professional world if she lives in such, where she might happen to be an educator, a doctor, a social worker, or a nurse. She brings to this compact world where she functions warmth and a new atmosphere. From all this it should be clear that it is not right for woman to dodge or side-step this mission, to isolate her interests, to make her life too self-centered. She exists for humanity such that every talent she has received must be put at the dis-posal of the hnman family. This analysis of woman would also show that she is in.tuitive, that she has received human nature in such a way that its intuitive ability would be rather clearly set out. She was made to understand the deep sense of the inner values of things, of their spiritual content as well as or even more than their material or temporal con-tent. Thus in the sphere of her intelligence we find a profound difference between her and man. She usually has a finer perception, a better taste, a greater potenti-ality for sensibility and tact. She possesses a greater ability for visual perception, for the visual understand-ing of the world. Her senses are more open to external attractions. In fact it is this very power of observation that is a necessary complement of her intuition, since her judgment (good or bad) is formed by a rapid, almost simultaneous, look into and through the elements of a situation. It is because she is more intuitive that she was made to reveal the deep and the more profound levels of our being which she knows not so much by cold reason-ing or by speculation or by theoretical analysis, as by intuition, by instinct, by connaturality, by an identifica-tion, by a deep and warm knowledge that understands humanity much more intimately than does man. It is her mission to understand humanity, its weaknesses and infirmities, even its sins. It is her mission even to sympa-thize with these without ever, however, consenting to them. It is her mission to encourage, to prevent, to direct, not so much by governing or dominating--for in dominating she destroys both others and herself---as by being, by example, and by living. Thus the role of woman because she is intuitive is to suggest and inspire, not to be an activist principally, but rather a contempla-tive. She is expected to be intelligent but not opinion-ated, submissive but able to lead especially by urging to activity, unassertive but capable, intuitive but clear thinking, not over-active yet quietly efficient. It is in these ways that she is meant to redeem every situation by coming forward with her immense power to heal humanity by being its seer and its poet, and by so act-ing to achieve her place and fulfill herself. An analysis of woman would also indicate that she is more emotional than man; that the emotional side of her life is an essential part of it; that it is an integral part of her so-called "passivity"; that it is the goal, whether conscious or otherwise, of much of her en-deavor and striving. She is frequently preoccupied with surface agitation because of her need to give emotional satisfaction to others and to receive it in turn from them. It is this very deep need for receiving emotional satis-faction that also brings to the fore woman's need for another. She is dependent on others because she hopes to gain from them the security which satisfied emotional needs and wants effect in her. Unless a woman has found this other source of emotional satisfaction, or unless she has sublimated it in relation to a higher person and his interests, she becomes restless, unsatisfied, and frus-trated. She is made to love and to be loved, and she cannot find her sufficiency in herself. That is why a woman who is selfish and self-centered is an anomaly that is more distressing to encounter than a selfish man. For she has denied her nature, as it were, when she ceases to exist for others; and in doing this she has dried up at its source the possibility of those emotional experiences so vital to her person. This need for emotional satisfaction would also seem to account for the woman's impulse of self-surrender, her capacity to yield or to open herself to one who advances towards her with love. Deep down in her being woman knows that her role is one of submission, that only by renunciation can she become her true self. That is why an essential part of her person and her emotional need moves her to submit since this is fulfilled by such a re-sponse. And unless a woman can find one to whom she can submit in love, she will find that her love will not flower and that her emotional need will not be satisfied. This ingredient of self-surrender so evident in the woman's makeup must not be confused with pure pas-sivity as some often think. Woman is actively passive. Her activity is directed more towards the emanation of her personality, in her protection of and care for what she has received and conceived. Thus her person im-plies an active yielding and acceptance of what comes to her in love. It is this very quality which makes woman a unifying force in God's plan. For she is meant to act as an icon or image of humanity's attitude toward God. It is for this reason that we have running through the whole of salvation history the image of the woman pointing out again and again that humanity must be-come feminine before God, open to His advance, ready 4- + Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24 1965 4, 4, 4, Chades A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]?4 to be receptive, ready to yield to His every word and request. Thus it is the woman and not the man who is the archetype of humanity's relationship with God. She is symbolic of the only power which man has in reger-ence to God's love. Thus the childlike quality that we often find among women saints is not to be confused with a weak and playful infantilism. It is rather the longing for and the expression of that security which we can recognize as a rather profound condition of the finest women in history. Its essence is innocent confi-dence, based on that childlikeness which the Lord de-mands for the kingdom of heaven. It is the magnani-mous surrender of oneself, the total sacrifice of self, and unlimited confidence in God's power and fatherly goodness. Thus woman is a sign of faith taken in its biblical sense, faith which expects nothing from man, but relies wholly on God. When these ingredients of woman are found per-fectly in an individual, they would seem to present us with a picture of the divine idea of a human nature that is perfect and truly complete at least in reference to God. And they are found in one person, one woman, the Mother of God. Our Lady provides us not merely with a prototype or archetype of woman redeemed, but of mankind, humanity redeemed. This is the meaning of the Immaculate Conception. It is merely the revela-tion to us of the human being when still unfallen, of the undesecrated countenance of the creature man, of the perfect image of God in man as it existed when the "'fiat" of God's creative activity rested upon him in the dawn of his creation. Indeed what would seem to come from prolonged meditation on the purpose and image of Mary, what seems to sum up her entire personality is her simplicity, which is not so much a virtue as rather the culmination of her perfect and balanced harmonious activity. It is the expression of a real inward unity and purpose. It is opposed to multiplicity and diversity of aims and in-tentions. It is a life entirely directed to God. And sim-plicity is a mark of divinity or of the divine. Mary had a nature that was incapable of pretense, of going too far, or of stopping too short of the mark. She never added anything to what had to be said or done, nor did she ever subtract anything. That is why what we find most attractive in Mary is her complete self-possession in spite of the plethora of grace and divine favor that was given to her as the Mother of God and as the archetype of humanity. She always and everywhere preserved what was natural to her feminine makeup.16 That one person, one woman should be able to l~Ibid., p. 125. transcend the differentiation of the sexes before God is not an entirely unusual phenomenon. It has been said that many important personages such as geniuses and saints have been able to stand above this differentiation in sex, that they have been able to unite in themselves the qualities of both man and woman in a creative harmony. And we may well ask ourselves whether this transcending of natural barriers is not perhaps the highest effect of the workings of grace. If we were to study the treatise on God the Trinity, we would soon discover that the image of woman reflects rather closely that of the Third Person in the Godhead, the Holy Spirit. He is called Love, Breath or Kiss, Gift, and His operation in the economy of salvation is that of a mother-principle. He is called Love, the Person of Love in the Trinity because He proceeds by way of volitional activity in God. To fall into the realm of metaphysics for a moment, we might say that the pro-cession of love or rather that which proceeds through the activity of love proceeds as spirit; spirit, however, signifies or expresses a certain vital or life-giving move-ment and impulse. The activity of love produces an inclination or an out-going or a giving, and this is no less true in the case of the activity of love in God. Thus the Holy Spirit is movement, secret mysterious activity in His very Being, just as is love as found among crea-tures. That is why, perhaps, when He is described in Sacred Scripture it is always in terms and ideas and ex-pressions implying motion or movement--spiritus, that is, wind, breath, or breeze; or He is compared to a river or fountain that flows from the throne of the Lamb.17 It is for this reason that the fathers of the Church are fond of referring to the Holy Spirit as the breath or kiss of the Father and the Son, the most secret but sweet kiss. And this is quite correct. For a kiss is an expression of unity and a means to it. And if anywhere there is not only oneness of love, but also oneness of life be-tween persons, if anywhere lovers are of one spirit and are one spirit, surely this is true within the mystery of the Godhead. Between the Father and the Son there are not merely two lives that melt into one; there is only one life and one heart, one love-producing activity. Thus the breath or the kiss of the Father and the Son cannot be merely a vehicle or medium to procure unity of life in God; it is rather its expression. Hence the Father and the Son do not pour out their breath of life into each other by their kiss, but from the interior of their common heart they pour it into a third Person, one in whom the oneness of their love and their life is ~'See Jn 3:8; 7:38-9; 20:22-3; Ap 22:1 ff. Superior anal Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 175 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles A. C.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 176 manifested and made visible or expressed.IS It is pre-cisely because He proceeds by way of love and is Love that the Holy Spirit is the most mysterious of the Per-sons in God. Love is much more ineffable than the activity of the mind. For while the latter produces a definite term, a word or an idea, the former, love, pro-duces no term but only a movement toward, an out-going. This is the reason why as soon as we try to de-scribe love we must have recourse to metaphors and similes as we find in the Canticle of Canticles or in the Sequence for the feast of Pentecost. Yet for all this note of movement which is attached to the Person of the Holy Spirit, He is never to be considered as restless or feverish in His quest for any object. Like the other two Persons of the Godhead He possesses all objects, being eternally within them. And like them He is "semper agens et semper quietus" to use a phrase of St. Augustine, always active and yet always at rest. Again, the Holy Spirit is called Gift, One who is to be possessed by the one to whom He is given. This implies that He Himself possesses an aptitude and readiness to be given or the ability and desire to give Himself. A gift, however, implies a free and gratuitous and unreturnable donation the motivating force of which is love. Thus the first thing that we give to another whom we truly and genuinely love is that love by which we wish what is most conducive to his personal well-being. Personal love, therefore, is the first gift that we give to another; and it is the root of all the other gifts that we might impart to this other, for example, the use of one's body in mar-riage. Thus in the life of grace, the first thing that God gives us is Himself, as Personal Love, as Gift, that can be possessed and enjoyed and freely so. From this it should be clear that in speaking of the Holy Spirit as the Gift, we do not intend to deny that in a sense the Word of God also can be said to be God's gift to man in the incarnation and again in the mystery of the divine indwelling. Yet the title would not be as properly the Word's as it is that of the Holy Spirit. Gift is that which proceeds by way o{ love activity, which notion as we have seen is proper to the Holy Spirit. Finally, when the Holy Spirit is sent on mission we see that it is always as sign and mother-principle. He is a sign of the divine renewal that takes place within us as a result of God's love--purity and charity; and He is also the forming principle uniting those who have been created according to the image and likeness of God with their Creator and Father. He is the Sanctifier or the bond linking up man with God. Thus His prerogatives ~s M. J. Scheeben, The Mysteries of Christianity (St. Louis: Herder, 19t7), pp, 183-4, 188, of Love and Gift are most strikingly evident in the work of man's sanctification. It is for this reason that one of the scholastic theologians mentions that when the hu-man person embraces God or surrenders himself to Him in grace, He receives the kiss of God's mouth and the breath of His Spirit. The powers of the person are made perfect and they are elevated to a higher plane of activity. And when this conversion or this turning to God or surrender to Him is intense, then this kiss is so completely efficacious that the individual drinking in God's Spirit becomes totally transformed by Him. And it is then with sobriety and modesty that this individual allows its love and giving to overflow on others according to their worth and necessity, not giving itself wholly over to them nor seeking them for itself but only for God. This we see in the case of the Church. For she was begun by the kiss of the divine mouth, the Holy Spirit proceeding from the mouth of God and embracing in His kiss the Father and Son. And she in turn exists only for one purpose--to communicate the kiss of the divine mouth to others.1~ From this it would seem logical to conclude that there is a very definite affinity or similarity, not perfect in every or all respects to be sure but at least in many, between the woman and the Holy Spirit, such that her mission when actually and really lived even in the natural order would partially imply her being a reflec-tion of God as Personal Love and Gift or Subsistent Breath. The ideas of love and gift and breath imply movement, an outgoing or communicating activity. And the woman is known for her ability to love and to give herself, to sacrifice herself for the benefit of others, to surrender herself in total donation. And she is also known for her ability to urge on gently, irresistibly, and persuasively, like a soft ocean breeze bellying a ship's sails and moving it to port. Certainly this is the work of the Holy Spirit through His gifts and His own presence in man; and this would also seem to be the role of woman--to be a strong yet gentle impulse urging the whole of humanity on to its last goal, communion with the beloved. And finally the woman is mother-principle, or the one to whose lot it falls to communicate flesh and blood or to be at the service of life; and what she gives, life, she is meant to give in a permanent and unreturn-able sort of way. Consequently, we can say that partially at least the woman's vocation and mission is to imitate and con-tinue through space and time as a sign or symbol and cause the mission of the Holy Spirit--to lead humanity 4- 4- 4- Superior and Vocation ~John of St. Thomas, The Gifts of the Holy Ghost (New York:VOLUME 24, 1965 Sheed and Ward, 1954), pp. 37-8. 177 Charles A. SchCl.eSc.Ck., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 178 back to God by showing it that God is a God of love and of gift; by showing it that its duty is to find God, to go back to Him, to love Him by an unreturnable gift of self in the darkness and mysteriousness of a deep faith and trust. And I believe we might say that the woman would represent and personify the Holy Spirit not partially, but wholly, not merely in her origin, but also in her nature, if, without being wife and mother, she could be the center of love between father and son in a family as a virgin. When we come to the consideration of the religious sister we should not expect her vocation to be contrary to her fundamental vocation of woman. Rather we would expect it to lie along the same lines. And yet because of the increased perfection of her vocation in the order of grace we would expect it to lie much further along the road, such that it would enable her to realize and achieve or fulfill her vocation of woman much more profoundly. And I believe that even a rather brief analysis of the sister's role or place in the Church would bear this out. She is given to the Church as a sign, a visible sign of not one but rather of several realities. And because she is a sign, because she acts as a visible and public witness in the Church, she is given to the Church and to the humanity intended to belong to the Church as a visible parable, or a graphic picture, or model or icon or type, for all to see, of the intimate rela-tionship which the whole of humanity is meant to have with God. We mentioned above that all communication between God and man has tended to adopt a sacra-mental or sign-medium--either that of language or events or representations or personifications (for exam-ple, Judith, Moses, the Virgin Mary). And this is no less true of the sister's vocation. Because her role with rela-tion to man is sacramental, everything about her should indicate what she stands for---her dress or garb, the houses where she lives, the entire rhythm and disposition of her life. She is meant to indicate publicly that man belongs entirely to God, that one day he will have to live only for Him and only with Him. She is meant to indi-cate publicly that man belongs entirely to God, that one day it will have to live only for Him and only with Him. She is meant to indicate perpetually not in herself alone, but in the institution which she gives life to during the course of her earthly life, that man is called to experience God's personal love, that he is intended to receive His special attention, that he is called to enter into a relation-ship with God that can best be signified by the bridal rela-tionship, by the union existing between man and wife. Thus the sister is meant to be revelatory in the fullest sense of this word. There is a tradition which runs through revelation, as we mentioned, placing the woman firmly on this side of heaven and identified with God's chosen people, His Ecclesia. It is the feminine image or archetype, which stands for the whole of humanity, for God's chosen and elect. In this role she is not meant to be wife to husband in the sense of being merely an object for masculine projections. She is meant to indicate that the whole of mankind especially in the order of grace is the object of God's special predilection, that it receives all that it has, especially in this order, uniquely from God, as a woman, the body-person of her husband, receives her glory and her name from her husband. This would seem to be at least something of the theological mystery or the reli-gious significance of the woman consecrated to God within the framework of a religious community. And it is for this reason no doubt that her ever further unveil-ing so often means the breakdown of her public mission and of her mystery or sacrament before the People of God and before all called to belong to this People. Per-haps we might identify this unveiling today with the contemporary trend that attempts to prove or demon-strate that woman can make her best contribution to human progress by being not merely equal to man, but identical with him, instead of by being herself. There is a common desire and a legitimate curiosity within the human race to see the goal to which it is divinely destined, to catch while still here on earth a glimpse of itself in glory. And this is given to it in the vocation of the religious sister. This is part of the mean-ing of the reception of the habit assigning her a public mission in the Church and before humanity--to be a sign of humanity's belonging to God as His bride. It is in this way I think that the Sister is meant to be a sign permanently and visibly present in the world of the sublime privilege and compulsory destiny of the whole of humanity--to be open and docile and obedient to the plan of salvation, as a bride is open to her husband.2° How important this is for the vocation of your sub-jects can be seen from the fact that woman insofar as she is directed toward man and toward the love of man re-tains her bridal character throughout her entire exist-ence. Thus a wife in her attitude toward the husband she loves remains a bride throughout her entire life. For the bridal quality of the woman is merely a repre-sentation of her love in its undying and unending re-newal. If this is true of the ordinary woman, it should be even more true of the virgin who is consecrated to Christ. For she by special commission of the Church ~ ¥ictor White, O. P., Soul and Psyche (New York: Harper, 1960), pp. 12 ft. ÷ ÷ ÷ Superior Vocation VOLUME 24, Z965 ]79 + 4. 4. Charles A. SchCle.Sck.C,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]80 pronouncing on her call from Christ is set aside to be a permanent and symbolic or sacramental renewal in sign of the Church's and of each person's bridal rela-tionship to the Lord. In a much more visible way by her virgin's vocation and by her habit is her bridal quality renewed and her wedding day continuously and daily represented and repeated before humanity. And how perfectly this function and mission or public assignment corresponds with the ingredients of her natural vocation. Surrender to another in personal en-counter is the deepest longing of a woman's heart. When a woman makes this surrender to another creature she is underestimating her worth; and she is, perhaps with-out knowing it, making demands which no creature can possibly fulfill. Only God can receive us in such a way that He fills the quasi-infinite and inexhaustible demands of the human heart to love and to be loved. That is why the aim of the religious life--complete surrender to God--is also the one adequate fulfillment of woman's longing. From this we can see why the "fiat" of the Mother of God at the Annunciation, and its continuation throughout her entire life, and the profession of the religious sister is a visible symbol of humanity's essential religious quality, surrender to God, openness to Him. In a very special way then tlfis atti-tude is truly the special charisma, the ecclesial function of the sister in the Church. And she should not forget that the idea of charisma means not the working out of one's own career designs, but rather the obliterating of one's own person to the point of its becoming an instru-ment of service to the ecclesial community and to hu-manity as a whole. In addition to the religious sister's being a sign of the relationship of humanity with God, she is also meant to be a sign of God's relationship to the world of man. And this is one of love and concern. Thus she is meant to assume the interests and concerns of Eternal Love, or she is meant to reflect and place before the whole of humanity the personal and intense and warm love which God has for it. And she reflects these concerns and interests, even anxiety, in a light that is peculiarly her own; that is, in a maternal light. Thus the religious woman's love dynamism is not only not annihilated in her being called to assume her ecclesial function; it is rather given new life and becomes far more extensive that that of "she who hath husband." 21 It is meant to assume the status and the proportions of the God-man Himself. Thus God by calling her to the religious life communicates to the woman together with the grace of her vocation something that was not there before. This is .o~ Is 5-t: I. a divine dynamism or vitality which makes her every ac-tivity, her every response to God a form of fruitfulness and motherhood. Even though her apostolic work may be rather quiet and performed in relative hiddenness and obscurity, it is still a dynamic power or force that transforms and gives life to all that it touches. That is why her woman's natural desire is not at all annihilated. Rather, it is made to expand as she assumes more and more fully the perspectives of a daughter of the Church. The woman who is called sister is a mother in the high-est sense of the word. This was very strongly asserted by the late sovereign pontiff, Pope Pius XII, in an ad-dress given in May of 1956: The Catholic Church, depository of the divine designs, teaches the higher fruitfulness of lives entirely consecrated to God and to neighbor. Here the complete renunciation of the family should make possible the completely disinterested spiritual ac-tion which proceeds not from any fear of life and its responsi-bilities, but from the perception of the true destinies of man, created to the image and likeness of God and in search of uni-versal love, which no fleshly attachment can limit. That is the most sublime fecundity and the most desirable which man can seek, the fecundity which transcends the biological order and reaches straight into that of the spirit.~ This truth is more important for us to recall than ever before. There is no such thing as a woman's right to a child. There is only the right of the child to a mother. For a woman to be a physician, a guardian, a teacher, or a nurse is not a profession in the masculine sense of the word. It is the form which her spiritual motherhood is to take in God's designs. Thus a profes-sion is not just a substitute for the unmarried woman's lack of physical motherhood. Rather it is the working out of the never failing motherliness that is in every genuine woman. And this is the more true, the more her motherhood turns around those things which are regarded as the timeless possessions of humanity, the cultural and religious values of the human race. Thus in the Church by reason of her religious mission and her apostolate as mother, the sister has her place beside the bearer of religious fatherhood, beside the priesthood of the man. And in this respect she is like the Church who in her character as mother is a cooper-ating principle with the one working within her, Christ Himself. Perhaps it is in this vision of her vocation where we discover the fundamental reason why it was fitting that the priesthood was never entrusted to the woman. The priesthood could not be confided to a woman because then the very meaning and significance which she communicates to man would be annihilated. ~ Address to Doctors on Fertility and Sterility, May 19, 1956; see The States o] Perfection, p. 288, n. 624b. 4. 4. 4. Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 ]8] REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS She is excluded from the hierarchy not becanse she is unequal to man but because she is not identical to him. This exclusion is a recognition of the distinctiveness and individuality of the woman. It is a witness to the fact that there are distinctly feminine tasks in the Church which demand the presence of women. Thus this exclusion far from being motivated from any dis-dain for woman springs from a reverence and respect for the true nature of woman, for the peculiar talents and gifts which God has given humanity in her. In fact in her not being capable of the priesthood she renders the priesthood its most outstanding service. For she teaches it by that very fact that the priesthood institnted by Christ is a service rather than a lordship and that it is a service of joy. Its object is agap~ or charity, brotherhood and the bond of love. And charity is above all not a matter of organization, but one of interior disposition of faith that is active in love. Here we find the special domain of the woman's devotion and gener-osity and youthful unselfishness.~3 It is these same thoughts which prompted Plus XII to write in 1957: We do not have to reaffirm Our certainty that Religious women are indispensable in many fields of the Catholic aposto-late, particularly in the field of education and scholastic activity, no less than in the field of charity. The Church's missionary work would for a long time now have been unthinkable without the participation of the Sisters; and in many fields, where the sacred hierarchy is in charge, the labors of the Sisters are indispensable for the well-organized care of souls. Without their help, the Church would have been compelled to relinquish many op-portunities for progress, and many positions, already painfully won, would probably have had to be abandoned. With the aso sistance of your maternal hands, beloved daughters, the Church is able to support the aged in their declining years; with your warmth of heart the Church is able to warm the hearts of tiny orphans; with your fervor of self-dedication, the Church is able to minister to the sick." The Limitations and Weaknesses of Woman In all this analysis of the woman's vocation and mis-sion in nature and in religion, we are not to forget that in the present fallen order of the human race, these ideal qualities and expressions of her image are always the goal or end after which she is constantly striving, a goal that has been ideally reached only by one indi-vidual, the Virgin Mother of God, and this only through a most special and singular grace. The reason for this need for constant effort stems from the fact that the fall withdrew a unifying force which would have kept in Arnold, Man and Woman, passim. Address to Nursing Sisters, April 25, 1957, in The States o] Per- Jection, pp. 286--7. harmony and balance and unity the various ingredients mentioned above. Thus your subjects must be made aware of these different limitations during the course of their formation and also afterwards, since they mani-fest themselves at different age-levels of our human existence. This education should be geared in such a way as to make them aware of the particular spiritual opportunities which are offered to religious women through the presence of these limiting factors and to make them aware of the various protections available against the spiritual decline to which they are then exposed. Without attempting in any way to present an exhaus-tive list of these limitations and weaknesses, the follow-ing thoughts in reference to them might prove to be helpful at least by way of area analysis. We mentioned above that the woman tends toward the personal and the living, toward the whole of things; that she tends to cherish, to keep and protect; that she tends not so much toward the abstract but rather to the concrete. This tendency toward the personal and living and con-crete can, however, become unwholesomely exaggerated. On the one hand she is inclined to be at times extrava-gantly concerned with her own person and problems and to expect the same interest from others, in the case of sisters, their superiors and fellow sisters. This brings about the tendency to anxiety, to depression, the desire to be recognized, to be given attention, to be loved. This situation can be increased when there is question of slight or serious emotional instability, or even by simple glandular disturbance, or by the rhythm of the woman's body activity. It is from this lack of and yet desire for security and acceptance that there can come diffidence, shyness, timidity, even hostility. On the other hand, this over-concentration on the personal can lead to an unmeasured interest in others, which mani-fests itself by way of curiosity, gossip, indiscreet longing to penetrate into the more intimate part of the lives of others, fellow sisters, pupils, and so forth. Again the tendency which she has toward wholeness can lead to an "explosive" use of her energy, to a superficial nib-bling in all directions without any real unifying end or goal. The tendency which she has to cherish, to keep, and to protect can lead to a possessiveness that far exceeds anything required by her work or associations with others. And finally her tendency to the concrete in preference to the abstract can easily cut off from her vision those things which lie outside her immediate environment, or from the broader view which she ought to be taking of things. Added to these there are other weaknesses which can 4. + + Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 183 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]84 find their way into the life of woman, such as her tend-ency to an anthropomorphic idea of God which could lead to an over-familiarity with Him or to a sentimen-talized relationship with Him such that she would lack the true reverence for Him which she ought to have. Again, we find that she has an inclination to seIf-de-lusion and to suggestibility; that she is easily persuaded and influenced by appearances rather than by reason and logic. In fact it was this tendency that made Shake-speare have one of his female characters remark: "I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so because I think him so." Likewise because of her strong emo-tional needs we find that at times when these are not satisfied, she can be capricious, moody, unstable, extrav-agant, unpredictable, and rather weak of will. And lastly, but certainly not the least important weakness which can be found in woman is the peculiar expression which her conflicts with authority assume. Generally speaking a thorough analysis of such conflicts would usually indicate that they are not so much with the concept or notion of authority as rather with persons in authority. This would seem to follow from the woman's being occupied more with persons than with abstract ideas.~5 While all these things might seem to pertain more to the realm of mere human psychology and to be espe-cially due to the irresolution of the normal crises of human life--those of vocation, identity, intimacy, par-enthood, integrity, and prayer and action,~6 you should attempt to make your religious see that they provide them with the normal channels through which God Himself works out their salvation. They should be seen as the ordinary "dark nights" through which most religious must pass to come closer to God. Just as He makes use of human instruments to effect our holiness, so too does He make use of the ordinary happenings and situations of human life--physical, biological, emo-tional, moral, and intellectual crises--to lead us closer to Himself. Such an attitude, of course, cannot be achieved unless your subjects are educated to and constantly re-minded of the fact that they must regard the circum-stances of life--at all levels--as given and provided for by God. It is through these very ordinary events of life that grace is made visible and available for them in these rather human "sacramental" forms. It is in this way that you can hope to impress upon your religious ~nW. Demal, O.S.B., Pastoral Psychology in Practice (New York: Kenedy, 1955), pp. 54 ft. ~ For an excellent treatment of these crises, see Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace, and Religious Development (Westminster: New-man, 1964), pp. 1-128. the fact that they are women and that they possess some or all of the weaknesses of women in our fallen economy; that this is something they should not only accept, but in a sense respect and even reverence, seeing in them the peculiar destiny and glory which God Him-self has singled out for them. It is only in this way that the whole of life can become one continuous sacra-mental encounter with God who continues to reveal Himself through the things that are made and through the things that happen. It is only in proportion as they learn to see these things in this light that they can hope to receive in exchange for their surrender to them the life and deepening faith which He promises in return.27 Conclusion While it is impossible for major superiors to person-ally form all their subjects in reference to what has preceded, still it would seem that they would contribute greatly to the spiritual improvement of their communi-ties if they saw to it that these notions of the woman's vocation and mission in the plan of God were system-atically communicated to their religious throughout the years of their formation. It is only in this way that they can expect their religious (1) to make their precise and proper contribution to God's plan, to the work of the Church, to the apostolates o~ the community, and to their own sanctification; (2) to protect themselves against their weaknesses and the harm these could cause to the realization of the various ends and goals of their ecclesial mission; and (3) to make them aware of and able to use for encounter with God the rich gifts and humbling limi-tations of their own personalities. It is only in this way that they like Mary and the Church whom they continue to embody can provide humanity with a concrete theology of mankind or humanity redeemed. It is for this reason that I would suggest that in your visitations and personal interviews with your subjects, these ideas be frequently presented and recalled. By yourselves knowing and appreciating and loving the woman's and the sister's vocation, public function, and problems, and by making this quite evident to your communities, you will show your maternal interest in them as a family and as persons. And once this becomes evident in you, there is greater hope that the family image which ought to characterize the religious life will become an actual reality. There is greater hope that each and all of your subjects will combine all the voca-tions open to woman and reflect the virtues that are proper to them. For as virgins they must continue to ~ Adrien Yon Speyer, Meditations on the Gospel o[ St. John (Lon-don: Collins, 1959), p. 43. + + + Superior and Vocation VOLUME 24, 1965 185 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles ,4. $chCle.cSk.C, . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 186 reflect Mary's humility, her simplicity, her naturalness, her silence, her thoughtfulness, her reflectiveness, her caution or reserve, her complete dependence on grace, and her profound faith both in the world of the present and in that of the future. As spouses of Christ, they must practice a perfect personal fidelity to the one they have chosen; for this is the essential relationship existing between bride and bridegroom reflected so strikingly in Mary, the image or archetype of the Church standing at the foot of the Cross. To maintain this fidelity in-violate will at times demand heroic fortitude in the face of the difficulties that come not only from without but most often from within. And finally as mother, they are to practice or cultivate a sense of and use of the social virtues, of the deep interest and consideration and concern for the needs of others. For motherhood implies an encompassing care and attention, the giving of nourishment and shelter, an activity that is marked by its tenderness and gentleness yet firmness, for the weak and fragile things that are being brought forth in Christ. It demands the exact opposite of selfishness and undue self-interest, of worry and anxiety about oneself and one's personal needs, it is rather characterized by self-sacrifice, by resourcefulness, by the ability and desire to give of one's time and energy to and for others, and by laying at the disposal of the race whatever gifts and qualities God may have given her. Your task today is of gigantic proportions. For how evident is our need for a new Pentecost, for the reign of the Spirit and of His influence and His gentle rule; for love of God and obedience, submission, reverence and a sense of the sacred; for purity, warmth, and fresh-ness; for spontaneity, poetry, and the Godward force-- all of which are presented to us in the picture of the woman redeemed. In a sense we can truthfully say that the greatest need in the modern world is for the truly feminine. For to be wise, to learn wisdom, demands that one be feminine to reality, to let reality flood in, to be molded by reality and so achieve a certain fullness from our absorption of it; to rest in reality, and so achieve a certain peace. In the Consolation of Boethius it is a woman who leads him to Wisdom. Her mission is to tell him, a prisoner in the dungeon, that if he had not cast away the weapons she had given him, he would have been invincible against the attacks of evil fortune. And then she attempts to lead him gently back to the realization that not in gaining possession of anything, but only in obedience and love to and for God, will we find eternal happiness and peace. And the world has need of this collaboration. It has a profound need for women who know how to say to God "fiat," to keep all things in their hearts; it has need for women who can bring the world back to a sense of unity, of religion, and of peace. It must return to the simple things, the human things, to the mystery of life and death, of birth and redemption. And it will find these in the woman who reflects in her very body the constant rhythm of nature itself, who holds the secret of life and who knows instinctively that esse is better than agere, being is so much more than doing. That is why she is a sign of the eternal. Again, we can say that woman has need of women who are genuinely themselves. For she has been and is still attempting to find her role too much in the world of man. The world without women is more the world of adolescents than the world of men. It is a world that easily shakes off its transcendental ties. The all-too-masculine activity of self-reliance and self-redemption has dimmed man's vision of the transcendent. Before this will be rectified, mankind must once more become feminine; that is, receptive of the "Word" which con-stantly seeks entrance into its womb. The profound consolation that woman can bring and give to mankind is her faith in the immeasurable ac-tivity and efficacy of forces that are hidden and invis-ible. For the divine creative force can break forth from God to renew the face of the earth only on condition that the earth lifts up its face with its single contribu-tion: "Be it done to me according to thy word." This is the feminine power which Mary shares with all her sex who will follow her in her love and renunciation. Every woman is made for mercy, love, understanding, and mediation. But it is only when all these are ele-vated by grace that they give her a mission and a mean-ing no longer merely human and terrestrial, but divine and infinite. That is why mankind will find its way to paradise only when it meets the loving woman whose eyes rest in and on God. From all this, one thing stands out quite clearly: To be a woman is a vocation with peculiar and profound responsibilities not only to oneself but to the whole of humanity. Woman is still and let us hope she will re-main the eternal mystery. We would not want to find the solution to her in the discovery of scientific facts alone. For it is from the mystery which she is and which she has received from and in God that human-ity's ideals and inspirations arise and that the super-natural civilization which is the work of the Spirit will finally be achieved. This is your supreme task--to see to it that this is brought about in the women under your charge. And the fact that in God's plan the highest human person is a woman should only serve to spur you on in the accomplishment of your special ecclesial mission. ÷ 4, ÷ Superior and Focation VOLUME 24, 1965 18'/ THOMAS DUBAY,S.M. Psychological Considerations in Our Approach to Mental Prayer ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M., is spiritual director at Notre Dame Seminary; 2001 South Carroll-ton Avenue; New Orleans, Louisiana 70118. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 188 If we wish to get a man to visit and speak with a friend of ours, we talk not about the theory of conversation but about our friend. Rudimentary psychology suggests that men and women alike are inclined to communicate not by understanding abstract theories of communication but by being drawn to attractive personalities. Yet in teaching mental prayer to our young religious in postulancies, novitiates, juniorates, and seminaries we often introduce them into a supremely interpersonal familiarity through impersonal conceptual analyses and pointed outlines. We are not wholly unlike a man who in order to get Jim to date Joan explains what dating is about rather than what Joan is like. We propose in this essay to advance the thesis that a psychologically natural and humanly appealing approach to instruction in and the practice of mental prayer is through a scripturally and theologically orientated appre-ciation of the mystery of the Trinity indwelling in the souls of the just through charity. We feel that once a young novice or seminarian (or veteran, for that matter) grasps the astonishing God-and-man intimacy implied in the in-dwelling mystery as Sacred Scripture presents it, the whole concept of mental prayer will not only appear to be a nor-mal, expected next step but also an appealingly attractive occupation. And surely it is a chief function of any teacher to make his subject appealing, interesting, challenging. If, however, the divine inhabitation is presented to in-telligent young people for the purpose of moving them to a living of it, we feel that the teacher should avoid isolated approaches: merely speculative on the one hand or merely pietistic on the other. Few are moved by the former alone and no one is much enlightened by the latter alone. Hence, we prefer to begin by a study of Sacred Scripture, first the Old Testament and then the New. The Ancient Intimacy A careful research into the scriptural deposit dealing with God and man relationships will convince one that the theme underlying the whole divine message is an al-most incredibly beautiful desire on the part of God to be familiar with man. A demonstration of this fact is too vast a project to present exhaustively here, but if one studies Deuteronomy, the prophets, and the wisdom literature thoughtfully, he cannot fail to be impressed with the re-markable expressions Yahweh uses to indicate His desire to love and cherish and even fondle His people. Though we cannot attempt a complete exposition of this truth within the confines of our present discussion, we do wish to suggest a few illustrations of what we mean by the divine desire for interpersonal intimacy with man. These illustrations will serve to exemplify our intent in speaking of a scripturally orientated appreciation of men-tal prayer. Somewhat as the fully bloomed flower is contained in the tightly enclosed bud, so is the interindwelling mys-tery (the New Testament does not speak merely of an in-dwelling) of divine intimacy in the new dispensation con-tained in the many themed God-and-man familiarity of the old. Yahweh prepared the human family for the super-natural divine inhabitation by the gradual unfolding of His desire for a tender and mutual love between Himself and His intellectual creatures. In the Old Testament God uses several concrete images to make clear to the Hebrews how deep is His love and concern for them. He declares that His love is like a mar-ried love: He who has become your husband is your Maker. For a brief moment I abandoned you, but with great tenderness I will take you back . With enduring love I take pity on you, says the Lord your redeemer (Is 54:5,7-8). Then He says that His affection is like parental affection: + It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, who took them into my arms; I drew them with human cords, with bands of love; I ÷ fostered them like one raises an infant to his cheeks. Yet, though + I stooped to feed my child, they did not know that I was their Approach toMental healer . How could I give you up, O Ephraim?. My heart is Prayer overwhehned, my pity is stirred (Hos 11:3-4,8). It would be difficult in any language to express a more concerned, a more touching, an even fondling intimacy. VOLUME 24, 1965 189 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 19~ Further, the divine love must be returned, a privilege that is also an obligation, an obligation enunciated with unusual solemnity and insistence on its being taught and remembered: Hear, O Israeli The Lord is our God, the Lord alone! There-fore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength. Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates (Dt 6:4-9). Tender concern has its root in love. A mother is anx-iously solicitous for her sick child precisely because she loves. Yahweh is at pains to convince Israel of His touch-ing concern because He loves with an inconceivably greater love. He uses the image of a father's strong care for his son: You saw how the Lord, your God, carried you, as a man carries his child, all along your journey until you arrived at this place (Dr l:~l). The divine eye is set even on the steps of a man and on each of his bones: His eyes are upon the ways of man, and he beholds all his steps (Jb 34:21) . He watches over all his bones; not one of them shall be broken (Ps 33:21). He cannot forget His human children: Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you (Is 49:15). It can come as no wonder, then, that the pious Hebrew responds with an utter and intimate trust toward this loving-kindness of his God. He piles image upon image to express it: I love you, O Lord, my strength, O Lord, my rock, my for-tress, my deliverer. My God, my rock of refuge, my shield, the horn of my salvation, my strongholdl Praised be the Lord, I exclaim, and I am safe from my enemies (Ps 17:2-4). His trust is implicit: I believe that I shall see the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord with courage; be stouthearted, and wait for the Lord (Ps 26:13-4). His confidence is optimistic: Come, let us sing joyfully to the Lord; let us acclaim the rock of our salvation. Let us greet him with thanksgiving; let us joyfully sing psahns to him (Ps 94:1-2). This loving trust brings a man very close indeed to his God, willing to pray to Him, eager to find fulfillment in Him: One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveli-ness of the Lord (Ps 26:4). Even in the old dispensation we may note how strikingly these interpersonal relations brought man near to God. No less than six or seven times in one short prayer does the Psalmist declare his proximity to his Maker: With you I shall always be; you have hold o[ my right hand; with your counsel you guide me, and in the end you will re-ceive me in glory. Whom else have I in heaven? And when I am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the rock of my heart and my portion forever. For indeed, they who withdraw [rom you perish; you destroy everyone who is unfaithful to you. But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge (Ps 72:23-8). One must agree that this is a far from an indirect prep-aration for the indwelling mystery. Finally, we may not omit the yearning for God and the solid joy in the Lord themes so characteristic of any con-templative soul. If we can instill into our novices and seminarians a never to be lost sense of the Hebrew ve-hemence in pursuing God in prayer, whatever else we may do toward their proper formation, we have succeeded in planting their steps firmly and probably perpetually in a prayerful approach to the religious life. To us one of the most remarkable traits of Psalter spir-ituality is this vehemence of the Psalmist's longing for God. By any standard of judgment it is extraordinary. It betrays a lofty sanctity, a deep sense of the divine reality, a vibrant awareness that only Yahweh is the health of the soul. And this too is exactly what our young religious need to learn first in their initial meeting with mental prayer. One likes to imagine what kind of pray-ers we would turn out of our novitiates if we could merely begin to instill the following sentiments into their young hearts: As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, 0 God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?. 0 God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water . As with the riches of a banquet shall my. soul be satisfied, and with exultant lips my mouth shall praise you. I will remember you upon nay couch, and through the night-watches I will meditate on you: that you are my help, and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy. My soul clings fast to you . I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like parched land . I gasp with open mouth in my yearning for your commands. How lovely is your dwelling place, 0 Lord of hostsl My soul yearns and pines for the courts of the Lord. My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God . I had rather one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere . You will show me the 4, 4, 4, A tfl~roach to M~ntal Prayer VOLUME 24, 1965 191 + ÷ + Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 192 path to life, fullness of joys in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever . Only in God be at rest, my soul (Ps 41:2-3; 62:2-3,6-9; 142:6; 118:131; 83:2-3,11; 15:11; 61:6). If we religious sincerely possess these sentiments, not much more is required. It seems to us that this magnificent Old Testament invi-tation to intimacy with God (developed, of course, at greater length) is the psychologically sound introduction to mental prayer. Nothing is so appealing as Sacred Scrip-ture and nothing so compels a man to want to converse with another as the realization that this other loves him and is actually yearning for a conversation. And such is precisely the Old Testament story. It needs to be mastered by our formation personnel and presented to our young candidates. The New Interinclwelling Intimacy The new revelation uttered by the Word expands the old dispensation familiarity into the divine inhabitation in the souls of the just. If one examines the Gospels and Epistles without presuppositions stemming from diverse schools of theology, he will conclude, we submit, that however one looks upon the indwelling mystery as the New Testament presents it, he must characterize it as closely bound up with interpersonal relationships between the Trinity and the soul. The matter is not primarily spatial or local. God is naturally present everywhere, and the Jews who listened to Jesus knew that fact well from the clear statements of it in their sacred books. A new, supernatural presence seems to leave out of direct con-sideration-- but by no means denies--the natural immen-sity of God, His omnipresent power and His all-pene-trating knowledge. Hence, a priori we might expect that if God is present in the rational creature in some new manner, the newness may be an interpersonal affair, not a mere stark, physical location. Such it is. The indwelling of the Trinity in the souls of the just according to the new revelation is a super-natural, personal familiarity revolving around a mutual knowing and loving, an intimacy tailor-made for initiat-ing and fostering a life of mental prayer and recollected converse. Some Illustrations We may with profit examine a few instances of what we mean in saying that the indwelling presence revolves about the interpersonal relationships of mutual love and knowl-edge (and, consequently, delight). 1. The mutual love relationship. Of all interpersonal relations the most intimate and satisfying is a two-way love. Now it is surely no accident that according to the New Testament love is both a condition and a conse-quence of the Trinity's new supernatural presence in cer-tain men. I[ you love me, keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate to dwell with you forever . He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him . I~ anyone love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our abode with him . The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us . God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him (Jn 14:15-6,21,23; Rom 5:5; 1 Jn 4:16). Whatever the indwelling mystery means, it surely in-cludes some marvelous mutual love relationship between God and man. And what better preparation for grasping the concept and raison d'etre of mental prayer could one ask than a vivid realization of this fact? 2. The new knowledge relationship. Love presupposes knowledge. A carrot cannot love even on a sensitive level because it cannot know. We would expect, therefore, that if the new supernatural God and man intimacy demands a new love, it would imply a new knowledge. And so it does. In indwelling contexts we find in the New Testa-ment more than one reference to God somehow manifest-ing Himself to those who love Him. We learn that the indwelling Spirit somehow instructs His temple, that a man who does not love cannot really come to know God. You shall know him [the Spirit of truth], because he will dwell with you, and be in you . He who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him . You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you . The Spirit himself gives testimony to our spirit that we are sons of God . In this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit whom he has given us . Everyone who loves is born of God, and knows God. He who does not love does not know God; for God is love (Jn 14:17, 21; Rom 8:9,16; 1 Jn 3:24; 4:7-8). Again, how could we better prepare a young religious for a life of contemplating divine Truth than to help him understand this facet of the divine inhabitation, namely, that the Spirit of truth Himself is pouring out the light by which the soul progressively grows in an appreciation of divine reality? The more the young sister, brother, and seminarian realize this communal aspect of mental prayer the less they are inclined to take the dim view that their meditation is an individualistc, isolated, futile experience. 3. The interpersonal relations implied in "abiding, dwelling, temple." There is a vast difference between a stark, naked, merely material presence of one thing to an-other and a warm, personal, mutual knowledge-love-joy presence. If I take a bus trip with a total stranger at my + ÷ ÷ A ~rt oach to Mental Prayer VOLUME 2,~, 1965 193 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 194 side (who will not communicate with me), I am alone even though the bus be jammed with fifty passengers. If, how-ever, I journey with a dear friend, the situation is totally changed even though the rest of the bus be empty. For in-tellectual beings spatial presence is only a condition for full presence; and full presence is effected by mutual know-ing, loving, enjoying. It is significant that when the New Testament speaks of the divine inhabitation the words used usually imply much more than what we have called a stark, naked, material presence--as water is present in a jug. They imply a local inbeing, of course, but, much more, they imply the knowl-edge- love-delight presence of persons. In revelation Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are said to abide, dwell, to be given to us, to be in a temple, to be a joy, to be tasted. He will give you another Advocate to dwell with you for-ever, the Spirit of truth . We will come to him and make our abode with him . Abide in me and I in you . He who abides in me, and I in him, he bears much fruit .Abide in my love . These things I have spoken to you that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full . The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us . Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?. Do you not know that your members are the temple of the Holy Spirit? ¯. Crave as newborn babes, pure spiritual milk, dlat by it you may grow to salvation; if, indeed, you have tasted that the Lord is sweet. Draw near to him . He who abides in love abides in God, and God in him (Jn 14:16,23; 15:4,5,9,11; Rom 5:5; 1 Cot 3:16; 6:19; 1 Pt 2:2-4; 1 Jn 4:16). Why are these words significant? Furniture is in a house, but it does not abide there; it does not dwell; it is not given to the house; nor is it a joy to the house. Persons, however, do abide and dwell in the house. They possess the building that may be given to them and they are a joy to one another. God is in an atom, a tree, a star. But they are not His temple, nor does He abide and dwell in them. And they in turn cannot enjoy and taste Him since they cannot know. God is also in the sinner and the pagan. But they are not his temple either, nor does He dwell in them. While both can know intellectually and the sinner may even pos-sess faith, neither possesses the unifying force of love. Nei-ther can taste and see how good the Lord is. Now all this, too, is immensely significant [or teaching and appreciating mental prayer. If this God Who is sought in prayer is so close that He can be tasted, so interested that He indwells, so good that He is given, He becomes a very easy to talk to God, a very easy to love God. And this is precisely what we are trying to get our young religious to do: to converse familiarly, to love ardently. At this point one may ask where he may find reference material on these interpersonal and indwelling relations in the Old and New Testaments. We are not aware of any work on the indwelling mystery that does what we here envision. We have ourselves for some considerable time been working on the interpersonal relations between God and man in the old dispensation and the indwelling mys-tery in the new. This much at least is now apparent, that if one does justice to the data available--and we mean scriptural and theological data--he will have a suitable introduction to an appreciation of mental prayer. We see no reason why novice mistresses and seminary professors cannot with patient study construct adequate courses on their own. 4. Activity of the Trinity within. Most of us conceive mental prayer chiefly as man's activity. God is principally an object reached by our reflections and affections, a lis-tener to what we have to say. It is we who reflect and seek and say. There is a partial truth here, namely, that man does think and will and attain his God. But it is only partial because all of his thinking, willing, attaining originate from the Fountain of all that is and operates. The children of men, we are told, have their fill of the prime gifts of your house; from your de-lightful stream you give them to drink. For with you is the fountain of life, and in your light we see light (Ps 35:9-10). This Fountain pours out life and light from within the soul. He is not a far away God acting at a distance. He is so close He is within; He is dynamically present giving every act in mental prayer, every act of any virtue: The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your mind whatever I have said to you . He who abides in me, and I in him, he bears much fruit: for without me you can do nothing . The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us . Whoever are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God . In like manner the Spirit helps our weakness (Jn 14:26; 15:5; Rom 5:5; 8:14,26). Both the young novice and the seasoned contemplative should realize that their prayer is anything but a solo flight to God. Their very seeking to pray is a gift given by ÷ their indwelling Guests. All the more are their acts of ÷ faith, hope, charity, adoration so many outpourings of the ÷ Fountain within, Approacl~ to MenUg Prayer for we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself pleads for us with unutterable groanings. And he who searches the hearts knows what the Spirit desires, that he pleads for the saints according to God (Rom 8:26-7). VOLUME 24, 1965 Thoroughness in Instruction Introductory instruction for our religious in the inter-personal relationships implied in the indwelling mystery cannot, in our opinion, be adequately given in a twenty-or thirty-minute explanation--not even in two or three half-hour conferences. We feel that our brief discussion in this article is not sufficiently developed for instructional purposes except insofar as it points out a general direction. To leave a deep impact not easily forgotten, the novice master or mistress should develop the indwelling mystery scripturally and theologically for perhaps eight or ten conferences. The novices will then be intellectually and psychologically prepared to see clearly that mental prayer is nothing other than a knowing-loving-delighting inter-personal familiarity with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit dwelling within their very beings. They are much less likely to get lost or entangled in the intricacies of points and methods, and much less subject to imagining that mental prayer is a refined sort of intellectual study period in matters spiritual. Thoma~ Dubay, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 196 Methods and the Indwelling All this suggests a further question. If mental prayer is essentially an interpersonal converse on deeply intimate terms, what becomes of "points for meditation," intellec-tual considerations, truths thought out in a discursive manner? And especially if higher mental prayer is a sim-ple loving attention to the three divine Guests, why should the beginner be encouraged to engage in reflections? It is not our intention to add to the perhaps too volu-minous literature on meditation methods, but we do wish to offer several observations regarding them in the light of what we have thus far said. Once we grant that mental prayer is an interpersonal familiarity with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, then over-board immediately goes the notion that discursive medita-tion is a kind of study period in the spiritual life or, even less, that it implies a time for an elaborate examination of conscience. No doubt the beginner does learn about God and himself through meditation. And this is good. No doubt either that he does occasionally examine his con-duct in view of his reflections and aspirations. Good also~ provided this is kept within bounds. But, and this is im-portant, mental prayer is not primarily aimed at learning or at examining. It is primarily directed to yearning after, desiring, praising, loving God. The Psalms are inspired prayers. How much specula-tion do we find in them? How much examination? Very little. But we do find a large number of variegated expressions of praise, admiration, petition, gratitude, trust, love, long-ing--- expressions that disclose a sublime degree of sanctity in their authors. To illustrate our point we may remind ourselves of the Psalmist's ardent pining after God so im-portant to anyone who is to progress rapidly. We ask the reader to recall the strong words and the brilliant imagery the Hebrew spontaneously used to express his need for Yahweh. If before the intimacy of the indwelling presence was known men could be so vehement in their longing for God, we are hardly expecting too much when we look for the same vehemence after the revelation of the mys-tery. Beginners and the Intellectual Element These observations that mental prayer is neither mere speculation nor self-examination would seem to suggest that our instruction of novices should play down the cog-nitive elements in meditation and emphasize the affective. And this would seem especially to be the case with young sisters whose feminine nature is less inclined to specu-lation. This inference is only partially valid. For the typical be-ginner, masculine or feminine, we may not rule out dis-cursive reflection. Neither our comments nor feminine nature require that we treat human nature, even feminine human nature, as though it were not human. It remains true in prayer and it remains true for women that nothing is willed unless it is first known. This point we shall dis-cuss from the point of view of the young sister, for what we say of her applies a fortiori to the brother or seminar-ian. To say that the vast majority of young sisters do not or should not use their imaginations and reasoning power (discursive procedure) in meditation seems to us to sup-pose that the feminine psychology of cognition-appetition is not a fully human psychology. This position seems to suggest that by some sort of angelic, non-discursive intui-tion the young sister knows her prayer relations to God, while the young seminarian or brother must laboriously reason about and conclude to them. We readily grant that some young religious women even as novices are not inclined to discursive procedures at prayer but rather tend to an affective and at times highly simple prayer. But to us this does not prove that young sisters in general can dispense with imagining Christ in His human nature and with reasoning to proper motiva-tion in practicing the theological and moral virtues in meditation. All this proves is that God leads some souls more rapidly than others or, in other cases, that the young woman already understands through instruction and spir-itual reading the motives for seeking Christ and practicing ÷ ÷ ÷ A l~t~roavh to Mental Prayer VOLUME 24, 196.5 ]97 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]98 the virtues. In either case the religious feels no need for discursive reasoning. We doubt, however, that these cases are typical. Being human, women cannot be essentially different in their mental processes from men. And if we urged most young women in our novitiates to dispense with discursive re-flection and get on to affections immediately, most of them would be operating in a vacuum. Without solid intellec-tual basis their prayer could easily degenerate into mere emotionalism. St. Francis de Sales and St. Teresa of Avila (both of whom understood feminine psychology to no small degree) supposed that the ordinary young woman imagined and recalled and reasoned in her early attempts at meditation. The former in his Introduction to a Devout Life (a work originally composed for women) tells Philothea how to make considerations at her mental prayer (Part 2, Chap-ter 5) and in the meditations he actually offers Francis presents many truths for reflection. St. Teresa, a genius both in feminine psychology and in mental prayer, told her sisters that it was good for them to meditate on God's works if they could, and this, she sup-posed by the advice she gave, was the usual case. When she speaks of beginners in prayer, more than once she refers to meditation on the life of Christ. We may note, for example, Chapter 11 in her Life and Chapter 2 of the First Mansions of the Interior Castle. A novice mistress, there-fore, needs a good deal of tact to know when to allow ex-ceptions to the rule, when to permit a young sister to omit imagination and reasoning and when to urge them. A psychological approach to instructing in mental prayer through the indwelling mystery does not require that we abandon the cognitive elements in discursive med-itation; but it does require that we see them in a proper perspective: not mere speculation nor self-examination but as a human requirement for the interpersonal relations of knowing-loving-enjoying the Trinity within. The young religious reflects on reasons for yearning after God not merely for the sake of understanding the divine goodness but for the sake of actual yearning. And the same is true of praising, sorrowing, thanking, wondering, loving, and all the rest. For the beginner discourse in meditation is a means to the end. It is not the end. Advantages of the Indwelling Approach There are several reasons why formation personnel should begin instruction in mental prayer with the divine familiarity-indwelling themes rather than with concep-tual analyses and methodologies. First of all, what we have proposed is realistic and there is nothing so effective as measuring up to reality. Prayer is converse. Not study. Not examination. And God is near, so near He is within. We do not speak with the Father, His Son, and their Holy Spirit by a supernatural telephone line. To teach mental prayer merely as methodology or examination is to teach either artificiality or particular examen. Secondly, when the young novice or postulant first hears about meditation set in this framework, it appears as nor-mal, warm, human. It is appealing, what one would ex-pect. l'Vho is not attracted to conversing with a charming person--and especially when this charming person is like-wise longing to converse? One of the obstacles facing some young men and women just leaving the world is the feel-ing that God is distant, uninterested, or, more likely, dis-pleased with them. Sometimes these youngsters have a vivid recollection of their past unfaithfulness; and they consequently experience difficulty in looking upon God as close, concerned, caring about them. This approach to prayer life through the divine Word itself can do much to break down distrust and fear. Thirdly, our proposed instruction should get the nov-ices immediately into the heart and purpose of mental prayer: the exercise of the theological virtues and the virtue of religion. If it is true that meditation is not pri-marily aimed at learning what the spiritual life is about (classes, conferences, and spritual reading take care o[ that), a method of mental prayer is commendable insofar as it leads one to acts of faith, hope, charity, and the praise of God. To begin instruction by the various methods and points seems to be saying to young novices: "I am going to show you how you can learn more about God and about yourself, so that you may apply this knowledge to your daily life by uprooting your faults and practicing the vir-tues in action." This is good, to be sure, but misdirected all the same. Genuine mental prayer does aid mightily in uprooting faults and practicing virtues, but this result comes preponderantly through growth in love. Here we may add a parenthesis that is by no means ir-relevant. Why do so many priests later give up any serious practice of mental prayer and why do veteran brothers and sisters sometimes find this exercise almost meaningless? Although the chief reason is a neglect of grace somewhere along the line, yet we suspect that a partial culprit is in-struction that presented meditation as virtues to be ac-quired rather than a lovable God to be pursued. One can get tired of reflecting on and even practicing obedience, humility, purity for abstract reasons, but he cannot get tired of pursuing someone he loves. Even in deep aridity the faithful soul who has been pursuing God finds an ir-resistible charm in intensifying the pursuit: O God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines Approach to Mental Prayer VOLUME 24, 1965 ]99 ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water . For your kindness is a greater good than life; my lips shall glorify you . I will remember you upon my couch, and through the night-watches I will meditate on you. My soul clings fast to you (Ps 62:2,4,7,9). Our fourth reason for suggesting this supernatural in-timacy- indwelling approach to mental prayer is that the moral virtues automatically develop once a man or woman is rightly ordered to God. Experiencing through prayer the patience and gentleness of the divine goodness to man is a powerful spur for a man to be patient and gentle with his fellows. And contemplatives know from experience that the indwelling Spirit gives more humility through infused love than they could acquire in months of medita-tion on their own lowliness. A soul which is on intimate terms with God is a soul rapidly shedding its faults. Our approach to mental prayer is aimed precisely at developing this intimacy. The final reason is the most basic and ultimate of all. The indwelling approach being utterly real is a beginning of the end. It is an intrusion of time into eternity. Man's final, inexpressible destiny is a knowing-loving-enjoying absorption in the Trinity: This is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God, and him whom thou hast sent, Jesus Christ . We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face . Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is . Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him (Jn 17:3; 1 Cot 13:12; 1 Jn 3:2; 1 Cor 2:9). Pope Leo XIII has observed that there is no substantial difference between the indwelling of earth and that of heaven. The diversity is one of state or condition: now we believe, then we see; now we love and enjoy imperfectly, interruptedly, then we love and enjoy perfectly, without interruption. Man's occupation with God on earth, there-fore, should resemble that of heaven insofar as his condi-tion permits. Living the indwelling mystery in the young religious' prayer Iife should be the beginning of an eternal intimacy: "Mary has chosen the best part, and it will not be taken away from her" (Lk 10:42). REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 900 MICHAEL M. DORCY, S.J. To Be Samaritans All We are all occasionally stopped by the embarrassing question put by others or by our deeper selves: "What is this thing called Christianity all about?" One begins pawing through the prolific--perhaps too prolific-- thematic variations to discover the underlying theme. Incorporated, often encrusted, as it is in its so many varying articulations, the essential Christian message becomes a forbidding complexity. But at its core the Christian message is disarmingly simple, although the living-out of it may be far from a simple matter. For the early Christians the Christian message was the good news, the best news yet. Paul called for a simple acceptance of Christ dead and resurrected. His epistolary explanation of the Christian vocation addressed to the saints at Ephesus has its beauty in the straightforward way in which Paul says: In those days there was no Christ for you . You were strangers to the covenant, with no promise to hope for, with the world about you and no God. But now you are in Jesus Christ; now through the blood of Christ, you have been brought close, you who were once far away. (Eph 2:12-13). The Christian today who remains attuned to his call stands out against his non-believing fellows as one who believes that life is neither absurd nor its own explana-tion, an end in itself. For the Christian, temporal existence has a meaning and a value of its own; but he is at the same time aware that life has another side to it, a side that opens out onto eternity. And he realizes that the temporal ultimately derives its value from the presence of the Eternal within time itself. For the Christian, his-tory is the concrete unfolding of the wisdom and love of God. He believes in a God who is basically a family, who authored life out of love and who labors now in time, trying to end the rift between Himself and man for which man is, and feels himself, responsible. This God, revealing Himself as a God who cares, has in the pivotal event of human history finally, physically entered time in the flesh-taking activity of the Second Person of the divine family, whose life, death, and resurrection evi- Michael M. Dorcy, s.J., is a fac-ulty member of Marquette Univer-sity High School; 3401 West Wiscon-sin Avenue; Mil-waukee, Wisconsin 53208. VOLUME 241 1965 201 Michael Dotty, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 202 dence and effect a plan whereby all men are joined to Him and would live as adopted sons within the family of God. In short, the Christian's God has said: "I have loved you, man! I love you now. This only do I ask in return: Love me." And man fumbles for a response: "God, You tell us to love You. But how do we love You?" God an-swers simply: "If you have seen, really seen, your brother, you have seen God. If you love your brother, you love Me." The Christian confronted with God's tale of love tries to answer by carving his own love story in time. But love is not an easy notion either to understand or to live by. In the New Testament which is the text for the school of love one finds passages which are more helpful than others for discerning what is precisely Christian about Christian love. One such place is the parable of the Good Samaritan where one finds in a compactness perhaps nowhere else equalled in all of Sacred Scripture the es-sentials of the love that was Christ's. Here we have the type of the Christian, of the man whose life completely revolves around authentic love. In the person of the Samaritan, Christ draws a portrait of Himself. Significantly, once when accused by some of the Jews of "being a Samaritan and possessed," Christ an-swered: "I am not possessed" (Jn 8:48-9). The Samaritan of the parable is described in terms which elsewhere throughout the Gospels the evangelists have reserved for Christ. The Samaritan is moved to compassion (literally, stirred in his inwards) as was Christ when He saw the multitudes and took pity on them, or when He melted away under the tears of the widow at Naim (Lk 7:12-3). The story itself is simple, but forever new and rich in meaning: A man was once traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. Bandits attacked him. They stripped and beat him and left him to die. A priest chanced by, going along the same road. He saw the victim but went to the other side and continued on his way. Then a levite came by. He too saw him but went on. A Samaritan was also journeying by. Drawing near, he saw him. And he was touched to the heart at the sight. He went up to him, bandaged his wounds, and applied oil and wine to them. Then he put him on his own mount and brought him to an inn where he cared for him. The next day he gave two silver pieces to the innkeeper. "Take care of him," he said, "and whatever it costs I'll pay when I return." "Which o[ the three, in your opinion, acted as a neighbor to the man who had fallen into the hands of the bandits?" He answered: "The one who showed him mercy." "Go," Jesus told him, "and do the same." The Cast of Characters: The Man Without Qualities One can derive much from looking in turn at the characters who make up the story. We know next to nothing (and everything) about the man who was done in by the robbers. He is Oudeis No-Name, the man without qualities (or rather, a man deprived of all but the most insignificant of qualities, that of situs: he was "journeying from Jerusalem to Jericho"). Without name, or race, or nationality, or status in society, quali-tatively denuded of all, he is left physically naked, al-most lifeless by the wayside. He is man in the raw, any one of us, a pilgrim, homo viator, man-on-the-make, man-on-the-move, a fellow traveller on the road of life. To give him any qualities, to endow him with some de-terminations, as we instinctively try to do, is to limit the extensiveness and inclusiveness of the notion of love that is being presented. The Priest and the Levite: The Fatality of Conscious- Hess The priest and the levite are the type of those who fail in the school of love. Representative, first of all, of the twofold division of the tribe of Levi, they are the em-bodiment of the hierarchy of the old dispensation, a dispensation devoid of real freedom. They are actually men enslaved, clutching their alien gods which go by a thousand different names. They are enslaved to the various tyrannies of categorical and legalistic thinking, to idealisms which overlook the here-and-now individual in the name of futurity or collectivity. Here are the Pharisees who rejected Christ because He eluded those preconceived, static, and depersonalized archetypes which they had of the Messiah. Here, too, is the misguided spectator-priest of today who passes by life in the names of celibacy, intellectual pursuits, prayer, and a host of other things. Here is the religious man who has offered himself to God, so wrapped up and tightly closed that God Himself, as Claudel says somewhere, would break His fingernails trying to pry him open. Here is the re-ligious who has detached himself from everything except his detachment. Here is that devastating brood, the im-personal apostles of personalism, and those in love with "love" and nothing more. Here are those who are caught in what Pope John called "the fallacy of overlooking the little good at our disposal in the name of the unrealiza-ble 'better'." Here are men dedicated to "tomorrow" and who use and abuse today for their own ends; men who labor tirelessly for a vague, amorphous, impersonal "Society" and who step all over the people who live next door. Here are the men who will be charitable when things are set, conditions right--men who will dictate their own circumstances, name their own times. Here are men whose effectiveness is dissolved into nothingness because in the name of religion they flee the "world," Samaritans All VOLUME 24, 1965 203 Miclmel Dotty, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 forgetting that the spiritual exists for the world and that the function of the Church is to embrace the world much as a lifeguard does a drowning man or much as the Samaritan did the wounded wayfarer. These are men, in short, who have never really learned to say "we." They are those who would leap from the temporal, blind to the fact that God works immanently under their very noses, in the very next face that they meet. It is significant that the priest and the levite are repre-sentative of a class which today we would label "intel-lectuals." Here is the type of man minutely portrayed by such contemporary thinkers and writers as Thomas Mann and Andrd Malraux. These are men who are un-able to bridge through action that gulf of detachment which necessarily follows upon consciousness. In a sense it is man's fate, but paramountly it is the intellectual's scourge. For unlike the animals whose response is quick and instinctual, man with his withinness can, even in the thick of the most violent physical activity, reflect and debate and prolong to eternity that increment be-tween impulse and act. The man who is unable to bridge the gap, who becomes isolated on his "magic mountain," ultimately becomes a man who is untrue, since he neg-lects the truth of his convictions and commitments which can come only in the completion afforded by the act itself. The Samaritan: Spontaneity and Commitment The actions of the Samaritan have much to tell us about true love. The love that was his, that was Christ's, and that Christ would have our own, is a love marked by compassion, spontaneity, personal and lasting commit-ment. The Samaritan was a man who traditionally had in-herited and experienced apartheid---of locale, of creed, of social and political relationships. It should be remem-bered what sentiments the mention of a Samaritan would have evoked on the part of a first-century Jew. The Samaritan was the archetype of the alien, the Stranger, the heretic, the lost-one: in just the preceding chapter (9:52) Luke relates how the Sons of Thunder wanted to call down fire upon a Samaritan village; Christ's dealings with the woman at the well (Jn 4:5) were viewed askance by the disciples. But the appearance in the Gospels of the Samaritans as real individuals en-countered by Christ defies any categorical imposition of traits. A Samaritan was the only one of the ten lepers who returned to thank our Lord (Lk 17:17). He was a man committed, and a man who remained lastingly committed as did the Samaritan of the parable. The Samaritan woman at the well On 4:5) was a woman immediately attractive to us because of her honesty, simplicity, openness, and spontaneity. She wanted to share the goodness that had come her way. She brought others to Christ, and "they heard and believed for themselves." The Samaritan of the parable is a man marked by the spontaneity of his reaction. Both his emotional re-sponse and its resultant action are quick and full. Un-like the priest or the levite who stand for intellectual detachment, the Samaritan is instinctive, but in a thoroughly human way. He is a man who has cultivated receptivity. He is attuned to his entire surroundings. He does not channel or restrict the arena of his purview or of his action. He is open to all. He takes in all he passes by, ready and alert to act. He realizes that his first re-sponsibility is always to that which is at hand. He is completely arrested by the sight of affliction in another human being. "He took pity on him": the Greek word (esplagthtdso-mai) suggests a very human, a very physical emotion. Literally, he was stirred in his bowels (splfigthnos). It is a strong emotion, a pure emotion. And it is a loadstone to action. At times it must override the strict logic of justice or the dictatorship of a false prudence. Another name it has is mercy. What we see is a physical, particular, defi-nitely directed reaction to a particular and concrete in-stance of human affliction. The result of this spontaneous compassion is a spon-taneous recourse to action. The action is immediate and adjusted to the circumstances; it is the "little good at one's immediate disposal." Perhaps the Samaritan was later moved to take positive action towards effecting legislation for better and safer road travel. But this vi-sion of the "better," of the long-range good, did not obliterate the definite and immediate need of the robber victim. And primarily interested in conveying the dis-tinctive, primary, and essential note of Christian charity, Christ did not think it important to incorporate the long-range notion within the parable at all. That is not where the difficulty lies. The visionary can, as the priest and the levite had, blind himself to the live-a-day world in terms of which he is summoned to live out his vocation. The larger view, the looking-toward-tomorrow, are noble and necessary operations. Yet, they are never to be assumed as surro-gates for the immediate needs of today. The prompt and immediate action of the Samaritan protects him from the self-deceit endemic to the vision-ary. A man can easily deceive himself as regards his re-lationship to God, but he cannot as easily do so about his treatment of his neighbor. The truth of love lies in ÷ + + Samaritans All rot.urgE 24, 1,~,5 205 Michael Doroj, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 206 its "deed" (1 Jn 3:18). And St. John further warns us about self-deceit in this matter: "If any man boasts of loving God while he hates his own brother, he is a liar. He has seen his brother and has no love for him; what love can he have for the God he has never seen?" (1 Jn 4:20). These are harsh words in all but the ears ot~ the Samaritan. The Samaritan is remarkable for the sense of commit-ment he shows as he accepts the challenge and responsi-bility which the priest and

Issue 22.5 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Personal Integrity and Intellectual Obedience If only through what we may term'a nebulous feeling of supernatural discomfort, no thoughtful religious long escapes the knotty problems implied in his reasoned re-actions to his superior's directives. Sooner or later he wonders how the perfection of obedience could possibly and honorably require that he judge to be wise and prudent what he may on occasion strongly feel to be un-wise and imprudent. Some of the implications of this complex question we have explored in two previous articles.1 The interest shown in these questions together with the oral and epistolary discussions consequent on them have prompted us to propose several additional problems and to seek suitable solutions to them. The Problems Religious superiors, like the rest of humankind, usu-ally do not know what we may call the content of the divine will. As I type this sentence I cannot be certain that objectively speaking this is what God prefers me to be doing at this moment. When a major superior as-signs a religious to teach the tenth grade, he cannot be sure that such is precisely the divine preference for this particular religious. In both of these cases all we can know is that our action, and our intentions are good. At times we may be reasonably assured that the action we contemplate is in its concrete circumstances better than some other, but even then we do not see how God judges the situation. Does not our inability to know the content of God's will render pointless the whole concept of intellectual obedience? Is the subject supposed to conform his judg- 1"Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience," R~w~w FOR RrLtO~OOS, v. 19 (1960), pp. 67-76, and "The Superior's Precept and God's Will," REVIEW FOR RELmXOOS, v. 20 (1961), pp. 435--41. 4, 4" Thomas Dubay, S.M., is the spiritua director at Notr. Dame Seminary' 2901 South Carroll ton Avenue; Ne~ Orleans 18~ Louisi aria. VOLUME 22, 196~ 49~ ÷ + ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4:9,1 ment to the superior's judgment because the latter is somehow expressing the thought of God when he com-mands? And if the superior is not expressing the divine mind, why should one try to think as he thinks? Meaning of Intellectual Obedience Before we wrestle with these questions, we should per. haps review the fundamental principles involved. And among them we may recall first of all that intellectual obedience implies the attempt of a subject to see the wisdom of his superior's decision. While it does not re-quire a man to call black white when his superior is manifestly wrong, yet it is more than an assent to the mere proposition that God wills the non-sinful act of compliance. This latter assent plainly is not a conformity to the thought of the superior (as the classical concept of intellectual obedience would have it) or even an at-tempt at conformity (with which the classical concept would be content when more is not possible). Agreeing that God wills execution of a given command is nothing more than an assent to a universally received principle of Catholic theology: God wills obedience to legitimately constituted authority. Intellectual obedience according to the formulation of St. Ignatius .Loyola in his well known letter (from which Pius XII said we may not depart) requires that the subject "think the same, submitting his own judg-ment to the Superior's, so far as a devout will can incline the understanding." And hence in the many matters in which evidence is not coercive, "every obedient man should bring his thought into conformity with the thought of the Superior" (America Press edition, ;~ 9). This doctrine presents no problem when the subject possesses a founded certitude that his superior is either right or wrong. In the first case his judgment is con-formed by the very seein~ that the direction is correct, and in the second there is no need to try to conform to what is obviously false. The problem arises in debatable matters, matters in which an honest and objective man will agree that there may be something to be said for each of two or more opposing views. Since the evidence in these cases.is not coercive, a religious practices in-tellectual obedience when he makes a serious attempt to see reasons ~or the superior's view as well as for his own. We spont.aneously conjure up reasons for our own opinions, and so intellectual honesty hardly requires much effort regarding this half of the situation. But we do not spontaneously think up reasons for an opposing opinion, and so effort is requisite if we are to be co~n-pletely open. While this effort should be made in our disagreements with any man, it is especially needful in the relationship of the subject to his superior. Because of the position the latter holds as a representative of divine authority and because we may presume that this representafive re-ceives divine help in the exercise of his office (not, how-ever, a help that makes him infallible), the ftillriess of religious obedience bespeaks an especial effort to agree with his thought insofar as honesty permits and a devout will can bring it about. When a good religious, therefore, receives an unpalatable directive, this third and highest degree of obedience suggests that he make an earnest at-tempt to see his superior's point of view whenever the matter is important enough to consider motives at all. Man's Knowledge of the Divine Will From the point of view of the divine will, we may re-call to what extent a conformity is possible and in what sense a superior may be said to manifest that will. A man's will is materially conformed to God's when he wills precisely what God wills. If God were to give him a pri-vate revelation indicating exactly what He wished done at a given time and if the recipient of the revelation carried out the command, there would be a material con-formity. In this case the person's activity would corre-spond exactly with what we have called the content of the divine will. On a moment's reflection one can easily see that a material conformity known to be such is usu-ally impossible. A man simply does not know as a ,rule precisely what God knows to be the preferable course of action together with the circumstances that should sur-round the action. A religious superior is no exception to this limitation on our knowledge of the divine intellect and will. Frequently the superior cannot know that this directive or that is exactly what God would like done at this time and in these circumstances. And if the superior cannot know, neither can the subject. Formal conformity, however, is another matter. It re-fers to the motives one has in doing whatever he does. A man conforms his will to God's when he refers what he does to the divine good. Such is the conformity that St. Paul taught when he enunciated the command that we do all for the motive of God's glory: "Whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor 10:31). While we often cannot know the content of the divine good pleasure and therefore cannot be sure whether or not we possess a material conformity to it, we can always know the motive with which we are to act, and thus we can be sure that we possess a formal con-formity. Hence, even thongh I cannot be sure that my proposal to give ten dollars to this particular poor man is the best thing I could do with the money (God may 4- 4- 4- Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 196.,1 495 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 well know some other better way in which I could use it) and even though as a consequence I do not know whether my will is materially conformed to His, yet if a~ a matter of fact I do give the gift out of love for God I am sure that my will is formally harmonized with His. And this is all that I am commanded to do in the situa-tion. I am bound to have the right motive for whatever good act I perform. When all this, then, is applied to religious obedience, it means that a superior usually does not know the con-tent of the divine will and consequently may or may not be commanding-, in material accord with it. From the point of view of the subject obeying, this does not matter. God does will that he carry out the precept as long as there is no evil in it. (We must notice that in this prac-tical execution of the command material conformity is always possible and commendable, that is, conformity to that content of the divine will which has revealed that it wants men to obey their superiors.) Furthermore, the subject should possess the formal element, the proper motive for obeying, which proximately is the authority of the superior and ultimately the ordering of his obedi-ence to the divine goodness by charity: Suggested Solutions We are now prepared for the first of our problems. Why should a religious try to make his judgment regard-ing some precept conform to his superior's judgment when he is not even sure that the latter's represents the content of the divine will? How can the constitutions of some religious congregations admonish members that they should make their superior's judgements their own, that they should "obey" even the superior's thought inso-far as such is possible? In answering these questions several principles must be borne in mind. First of all, any man is bound by mere natural honesty to conform his mind to the truth insofar as he is able. No one has a right to entertain error. He may have a right to immunity from attack because he is in error, but this is not to say that he has a right to cling to the error. There can be no right to what is unreal. Secondly, in a'genuine difference of opinion between two persons in which difference the truth is not definitely established with 'an objective certitude, honesty demands that any man make a sincere effort to see the reasons for the other's view. Any man is bound to weigh the other man's reasons as well as his own. Any other procedure is mere prejudice. Hence, the demand of intellectual obedi-ence that a subject try to see that his superior's directive is wise is no intrusion on his human dignity or intel-lectual integrity. On the contrary, this perfection of obedience is protective both of intellectual humility and of integrity since it aids a man in divorcing himself from his often inordinate attachment to his own opinion. It opens his mind to other views and other opinions. Hence, this fundamental honesty by which we give a sympathetic consideration to the intellectual position of another is common both to the subject-superior relationship and to the ordinary man-to-man relationship. Yet there is a difference. There must be a difference. Otherwise, we could hardly speak of the attempt a re-ligious makes to conform his judgment to that of his superior as a distinct degree of obedience. But what is the difference? What is the difference between Brother X and Sister Y trying to look sympathetically upon their superiors' decisions and these same two persons attempt-ing to discuss a question of politics or philosophy in an unprejudiced manner? In both situations there is a pursuance of truth, an effort to maintain intellectual in-tegrity. The solution to this problem is difficult, admittedly difficult. And we frankly confess that we are not at all sure that our solution is adequate. We think that it is correct as far as it goes, but we are not sure that it says all that needs to be said. We believe that there are two reasons why a religious' attempt to see his superior's decision as feasible and cor-rect is something over and above this same religious' ef-fort to see a differing view in an ordinary discussion. The first "something over and above" is the supernatural posi-tion of the superior. While he remains a weak, imperfect, and entirely fallible human being, an ecclesiastical su-perior does occupy in the supernatural society which is the Church a position which is ultimately derived from God Himself. As Pope Pius XII rightly observed, the authority by which religious superiors rule is a participa-tion in the divinely received authority possessed by the Roman Pontiff. Therefore, while the religious superior does remain fallible, and sometimes sadly fallible, yet his dispositions and directions enjoy an ontological rank that other dispositions and directions do not enjoy. This basis and rank are the foundation for a new reason over and above intellectual humility and integrity why a sub-ject should seek to view his superior's disposition sym-pathetically and seek, if possible, to conform his judg-ment to it. A second reason is based on the relationship between the first and second degrees of obedience with the third, that is, the relationship between execution of the com-mand (first degree) and conformity of will (second de-gree) with the submission of intellect (third degree). A mere reflection on the psychology of obedience indicates ÷ + Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 498 that the perfection with which a man executes a directive and with which he conforms his intention to that of his superior will ordinarily be dependent on his intellecttial agreement or disagreement with the judgment implied in the directive. Our point is not that the typical religious will not execute a command unless he sees its wisdom but that he often will not execute it as per[ectly when he believes it to be unwise or foolish. Our point is also that he will find conformity of the will, that is, really wanting to carry out this command, much more difficult when the precept appears to him unfeasible. A religious priest whose superior directs him to teach a course which he judges to be of flimsy value hardly throws himself ir, to the task of doing an excellent job with it. He teaches the course, yes. But unless he is a man of rare virtue, he cuts at least some minor corners with it. A sister who is asked to organize a testing program that seems to her ineffectual is an unusual person if she does not experi-ence difficulty in wanting to organize it. Because there is a lack of intellectual harmony between these religious and their superiors, harm is done to the first and second degrees of their obedience. This fact affords us another reason over and above mere open-mindedness why a subject should seek to see the wisdom of his superior's decisions and to conform his judgment to them. If our analysis is correct, it seems to follow that intel-lectual obedience is rooted in the will. The conformity on this third level is, of course, found in the intellect; but the force moving the intellect toward it is the will. This observation is not surprising when we consider that the "moving-moved" relationship is the case even with the execution of a command. The actual operation of teach-ing or sweeping is executed by the other faculties, while the moving role is that of the will. We may speak, there-fore, of obedience of the intellect because it is the in-tellect in the third degree of obedience that is harmo-nized with the intellect of the superior, even though it is the will that moves it to the harmony. There remains another facet to this problem, or, if one prefers, another problem. Granted that we have in-dicated two reasons over and above mere intellectual honesty why a subject should attempt to see his superior's view, we must yet discover what guarantee of truth can be offered that will justify the subject's conformity. After all, is not evidence the fundamental criterion of truth; and if we are going to ask a religious to hold a precept as prudent or feasible, do we not have to assure him of its validity on the basis of objective evidence? And if a religious superior has no divine guarantee that his di-rections conform to the objective truth of things, how can one rightly ask another to harmonize his intellect with them? This is no easy problem. In answer to it ~ve must first, remark that no one is asking a subject to extend the value of his intellectual assent beyond available evidence. We do not suggest that a religious ought to make a certain judgment that his superior is correct ~vhen there simply is no irrefragable evidence that he is correct, nor do we feel that the sub-ject should entertain a judgment of higher value than his superior entertains. If the superior only thinks that this course of action is feasible, surely the subject is not re-quired by intellectual obedience to be sure that it is such. As a matter of fact, the latter would be a difformity, not a conformity. We may observe, likewise, that in many of the disposi-tions made in a religious community neither the superior nor the subject can be prudently sure that a particular course of action is the most feasible. An autocratic su-perior may act as though he is certain that his decisions are the only reasonable ones; but this does not, of course, mean that they are. How often can one know with complete certitude that a given sister should teach the third grade rather than the fifth or that a brother should specialize in history rather than in political sci-ence or that a priest should serve on the mission band rather than on a parish staff? Many of us may entertain strong opinions in such matters, but few could offer in most cases objective evidence that one decision alone is reasonable or even the best possible. It would seem, then, that intellectual obedience frequently does not require a certain assent. But we think that it often requires an opinionative assent, that is, an assent that holds a proposition to be probably true because based on one or more solid mo-tives. Two reasons suggest this statement. First, when an intelligent man or woman (we refer to the superior) decides on a course of action, one may usually presume that there is at least one solid motive behind it that would found at least an opinionative judg-ment that the decision is a prudent one. Secondly, the superior himself usually judges his directive as at least probably correct; and so il~ he can find some good reason for it, the subject of good will should frequently be able to find it also. The first reason bears on extrinsic evidence (authority), the second on intrinsic. Is a guarantee required for the objective truth or wis-dom of the command? Must the superior in looking for intellectnal obedience in his subjects offer them some guarantee that he is at least probably if not certainly right in his dispositions? Although the two questions ÷ ÷ ÷ Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 499 4. 4. + Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 500 may look equivalent, we would answer yes to the first and no to the second. No man can rightly give an intellectual assent to a proposition unless he has some motive pro-portioned to the quality of his assent. I do not proceed in an orderly fashion when I judge to be certain an as-sertion for which I have only probable evidence or when I hold an opinion with not even probable evidence. Hence, a religious need not judge his superior to be surely correct when he can see only probable reasons in favor of the command. When the subject can see no intrinsic reason in favor of the precept's feasibility (and such is rare, indeed), he should either refrain from judg-ing it altogether or base his opinionative judgment that it is feasible on the mere fact that his superior thinks, it so. In this second case he rests on extrinsic authority or evidence. His intellectual honesty is preserved in that he has not made a certain assent, and his obedience is per-fect in that he has made every reasonable effort to bring his judgment into accord with that of his superior. A superior is not ordinarily bound to offer the guar-antee for the assent his subject is to give to his disposi-tions. It would be unreasonable to expect one in author-ity to explain his reasons every time he decides upon some course of action. And it happens occasionally that natural secrecy prevents him from disclosing why he acts as he does. Yet at the same time we feel that often, if not usually, a superior should spontaneously offer reasons for his directives when they are out of the ordinary or when they are especially susceptible to misunderstanding. would even say that unless secrecy forbids it, a superior ordinarily does well to let the reasons for his commands be known whenever an intelligent subject could not l easily conclude to them and when the matter is impor-tant enough to go into them at all. Otherwise, it is dif-ficult to see how the subject could give an intelligentl assent or bring his judgment into line with that of hisJ superior except perhaps by a sheer act of will. As we have just hinted in the preceding paragraph,, all of our above attempts to give a reasonable account the roots of intellectual obedience as it bears on the ob-jective order of things are directed toward cases in whichl an agreement with the superior's mind is called for. There are many cases in the ordinary living of the re ligious life in which the directions given are not impor tant enough even to concern oneself about a conformity~ of judgment. In these it is rather blind obediertce thai is indicated: the willed execution without any thoughi as to why the command is given. We hardly think tha, a sister who has been asked by her superior to serve a.~ companion for another on a trip to town should bothei about trying to discover the rightness of the request o~ why it was made. Such scrutiny too easily lends itself to pettiness. Our above discussion rather envisions more important matters in which a religious should know his superior's mind that he may all the better carry it out. How, then, may we answer the questions with which we began? Does our inability to know the content of the divine will render meaningless the whole concept of in-tellectual obedience? It the superior is perhaps not ex-pressing the divine mind when he commands, is there any point in the subject trying to conform his judgment to that of his superior? Man's inability to know the divine mind in many of the practical details of human lille does not render mean-ingless the widely received principles of intellectual obe-dience. The religious is not assenting to his superior's direction as though it were an infallible oracle, nor is he judging that it is the only possibly reasonable disposition of the matter. Precisely because we reject the notion that a superior is revealing the content of the divine mind do we dissolve at the same stroke that other mistaken notion that in intellectual obedience the subject is assenting to a certain proposition known as such by God. Rather is the subject merely trying to put his whole being, intellect as well as will and body, into a harmony with his su-perior, a man who takes the place of God for him. And this attempt at harmonization implies no violence to in-tellectual integrity for the simple reason that it rests on evidence, either intrinsic or extrinsic. We may conclude, then, that the religious who prac-tices perfectly all three degrees of obedience integrates rather than disintegrates his personality. He executes di-rectives promptly and wholly, and thus establishes a new contact with God who has parceled out some of His supreme authority to men. He wants to carry out the precept because he sees the divine authority in a human instrument, and thus he places himself in the genuine stream of what is. He attempts to set his intellect in ac-cord with his superior's, and thus he simultaneously maintains intellectual integrity and submits his supreme faculty to the divine order. And all this is done through supernatural charity. This is sanctity because it is reality. ÷ ÷ ÷ In~ellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 501 PAUL HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P., is the chaplain at Rosaryville; Pon-chatoula, Louisiana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~02 We are all very conscious that charity inspires us .to give help to others, but have we ever realized that char-ity also inspires us to ask for help? St. Thomas Aquinas was well aware of this. He writes, for example, to a prince: "Your charity has asked me to reply in writing to your question. It is not proper that the requests which charity faithfully offers be refused by a friend.'u Thomas realized so well that charity seeks help as well as gives it, because he knew from experience what unity in lively charity can be. Living in the golden age of the Order of Preachers, when community life was fully synonymous with life in charity, when mutual charity penetrated everything, Thomas daily experienced char- ~ty at its best. Charity was a mutual give and take in per-fect spontaneity. Those early friars knew well the spirit behind St. Augustine's command in their rule: "Call nothing your own, but let all things be held in common among you." In the thinking of Augustine, this statement applied not only to material goods but to whatever the Christian has, whether material or spiritual, whether gifts of grace or talents of nature. Augustine was remarkably conscious of the unity of all Christians in Christ, of how all live one same life together in Him. For example, constrasting his own intensely active life as a bishop with the leisurely contemplation of a monk to whom he is wri(ing, Augustine says: "We are one body under one head, so that you are busy in me, and I am at leisure in you" (PL 33:187). Because I am one with Christ, what Christ is doing in you He is doing for me. And because you are one with Christ, what Christ is do-ing in me He is doing for you. We are one body with many functions of one life. We are one mystical person in Christ. Elsewhere Augustine writes: "Whatever my brother has, is mine, if I do not envy and if I love. I do not have it in myself, but I have it in him. It would not be mine, if we were not in one body under one Head." x Martin Orabmann, The Interior Lile o] St. Thomas Aquinas (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1951), p. 9. In this unity of life in Christ, this one life in love, the mutual sharing of spiritual and material goods is love in action. Love receives as well as gives, love asks as well as grants. If the bond of love makes us consider that our brother's needs are our own and inspires us to supply him with what he needs, that same bond of love does not hesitate in appealing to our brother's love for help. Our appeal is based upon our love for him and his love for us. It is only right that what we expect him to grant in char-itY should be requested in that same charity so that both the asking and the giving are an exercise and a strength-ening of the bond of love. Our blessed Savior sets a beautiful example of these things in dealing with the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well. In His love for the woman, He desires to do her a service; but good psychologist that He is, He knows that her pride will resent His offer of help. And not merely because in her particular case pride will resent the un-veiling of her sin but because human beings in general like to be independent and do not care to admit that they need others. Their pride instinctively resents anyone who tries to help them. We have all experienced at one time or another the pain of having our charity rebuffed. And therefore when Jesus wishes to do this woman a service, instead of immediately offering help to her, He begins by requesting help from her. He knows how valu-able a request for help can be in establishing good rela-tions among people. Rather than give her pride an op-portunity to resent His help, He appeals to what is best in her human nature. Human nature was made for love. But love's proper act is to give. To win the woman's good will and love, Jesus gives her the opportunity to give to Him. He asks her to do Him a service: "Give me to drink" (Jn 4:10). His humble request and His need immediately wins her sympathy and benevolence. Upon the initial good will which she thus manifests, Jesus proceeds to build an eternal friendship. By humbly accepting the service of her love, He leads her humbly to accept His love in re-turn, His love with its gift of "living water" springing up into a divine love, binding her to Him in an everlast-ing friendship. This is the apostolic technique which Jesus teaches to His apostles. Christian charity has to be mutual, love has to be a response to love. From the prospective convert the apostle must draw forth some sort of love, even if it is only an act of natural benevolence towards him. Grace, seizing upon this, can transform it into some-thing divine. Since man was made for love and love's proper act is to give, if we would set up a bond of love between our-÷ ÷ Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 selves and our fellow we must give him the opportunity to give to us. We must win his benevolence and sym-pathy by humbling ourselves before him in need. Love knows how to receive as well as give. Is not the recogn:i-tion of another's need a natural incentive to sympathy and love? Is not then the humble recognition of our mu-tual need of one another the best soil for mutual low:? For charity is mutual giving. Almighty God has deliber-ately created us mutually dependent upon one another that we may have an opportunity to love by giving ar, d to love by receiving, that thus the bond of love may 'be perfect. Therefore our blessed Lord instructed His apostles to receive even while they gave: they were to accept the hospitality of those to whom they wished to preach, they were to eat what was placed before them, they were to sleep on what was prepared for them (Lk 10:7-9). They were to be humbly dependent for material things upon the people upon whom they wished to shower super-natural gifts. Thus there would be established a balance and the mutual interchange which is charity in action. St. Paul's words describe the situation well: "There is a just bal-ancing- your abundance at the present time supplying their need, that their abundance may in turn supply your need, thus making for an equality" (2 Cor 8:14). Christ used this same technique with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Though it was getting towards evening and the day was far spent, He acted as though He were going on, giving them the opportunity to urge their hospitality upon Him, so that by their love in giv-ing to Him their hearts would be prepared to receive His greater gifts (Lk 24:28 f.). Christ our Lord sent forth His disciples two by two so that they could mutually give and receive as they trav-elled to their missions, upholding one another in love. For in Christianity there is no room for the proud inde-pendent spirit which rejects others as though he does not need them, spurning their help as though he can get along without them, refusing to accept from others lest a debt of gratitude make him dependent upon them, carefully hoarding his own resources in fear that giving to others will impoverish him and make him dependent. How tremendously more fruitful all of our labors would be if all of us would work together in this humble charity which recognizes our need of one another! True charity is ever humbly aware of our mutual dependence upon one another in Christ and of our solidarity in Him; and therefore it is willing not only to give help but humbly to accept it and to give again in grateful return. For Christians must never give to others with an air of condescending superiority but must always humble them-selves to the level of the needy, in genuine compassion. "Be minded as was Christ Jesus," says st. Paul. "Though he was divine by nature, he did not consider his being on an equality with God a thing to be grasped, bi~t on the contrary he emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave, and was made like to men" (Phil 2:5-6). For the gifts of God, whether spiritual or material, are never given to us in order to exalt us above our fellowmen but rather to give us the means of serving Him in humble love. "Freely ~have you received, freely give" (Mr 10:8). If St. Thomas Aquinas always looked upon requests for his help as proceeding from humble charity, in humility he considered himself the servant of all in that same charity. For example, a young Dominican lecturer of Venice once wrote to him a list of thirty-six questions and asked for the answers within four days! Though this may seem to be an inconsiderate abuse of the generosity of an extremely busy man like Thomas, especially since the questions were vaguely phrased, nevertheless in sending back all the answers Thomas gently replied: "Although I h~ave been very busy, I have put aside for a time the things that I should do, and have decided to answer in-dividually the qusetions which you proposed, so as not to be lacking to the request of your charity." We must beware, then, of setting self-sufficient bound-aries about ourselves, saying, as it were, "This is my sphere of influence in the community, this is the work I will do. I can do this and no more, and I will accept no help in doing it, for I am self-sufficient within these lim-its. I want no help, because I wish to be independent of the need of helping another in return. So let us all de-marcate our spheres of influence, let us carefully portion out the common resources of our community life. This portion shall be mine, that portion shall be yours, and let us not trespass upon one anotherl You may not borrow my help or my equipment or my resources even in time of need, for at all costs we must avoid trespassing the 'rights' of one another. In short, let us kill all the spon-taneity of community life in charity." Religious who by vow have renounced everything, even their own wilI, are the last people in the world who should be insisting upon their rights. Is not charity a higher law than rights, does not charity break down the wails of proprietorship? Does not charity concede to others that to which they have no strict right? For whenever we have something and our neighbor is in true need of it, then it is no longer our own but his. It is not his in justice, but in charity. He cannot demand it of us--unless he is in dire necessity--but he can humbly ask it in love, and we grant it in love. We owe it to him + + + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22, 1963 505 Paul Hinn~bu~ch, O.P. REVIEW FOR REL|G~OU$ in the charity which makes all of us one body under one Head. And yet, there is order in charity. For though what I~ have is given me by God not just for myself but for the service of others in Christ, yet I must use and distribute what I have in an orderly way, using it for the appointed purposes in community life. If I am called upon to de-vote some of my time or my resources in giving emer-geny help to another so that my appointed tasks may seem thereby to suffer, rather than stifle charity's eager-hess to help I entrust my own affairs to divine providence while I attend to the immediate needs of my neighbor. On the other hand, the common ownership of all things in community life, in this one body under one Head in charity, does not justify any one member or group of members o[ the religious community in appro-priating an unjust share of the common resources, taking more than should be alloted when distribution is made to each according to his need. If resources are unjustly appropriated in this way, even the charity of those who are unjustly deprived cannot approve of the injustice, though they may have to endure it in patience. Even charity cannot approve of the injustice, for charity is obliged to love the common good and cannot permit this harmful swelling of one member at the expense of an-other. We cannot appeal, then, to the fact that we are one body under one Head to justify any highhanded appro-priating of the common resources. What my neighbor has is mine, what the community has is mine, but only in the friendship of charity. I have only love's rights to these things. And therefore only in humble charity may !1. re-quest more than is already allotted to me. Only mutual charity makes what is his mine and what is mine his. Charity never demands, charity humbly asks. And when she has received, in due course she makes a grateful re-turn. Everyone who is generous in fulfilling the law of char-ity and is ever eager to be at the service of others sooner or later runs into those who abuse his generosity by mak-ing, in the name of charity, requests which charity has no right to make. There will be those who will use the main point of this article as an excuse for imposing upon others, saying, "I request this in charity, so in charity you may not refuse me." Are there situations when we may refuse requests for help without violating charity? At first sight it would seem not, for our Lord says, "Give to everyone who asks of you" (Lk 6:30). However, our Lord never asks the im-possible. There are times when one is so laden with other duties of justice and charity that he cannot possibly ful-fill a request for help. But in a case like this, charity must know how to say "No." "There is always a way of refus-ing so graciously," says the Little Flower, "that the re-fusal affords as much pleasure as the gift itself would have." Lest we abuse charity's rigl~t to ask help, we must al-ways be very considerate of those of whom we ask help. We should not ask a generous person for his help when we could do the things ourselves easily enough. For if the one we ask is really charitable and generous, then we can be sure he already has more than enough to do, for every-one is asking his help. We must take care never to ask un-necessarily or selfishly. If we really do not need help and the person we ask sees that this is so, then he is not uncharitable in refusing us. In this case a work of charity is not called for, since by definition a work of mercy is aid given to one who has true need. Furthermore, a busy religious has to be dis-criminating in the works of charity he undertakes. Since it is impossible for him to do everything, he does not violate charity if he makes a prudent choice about whom he is to help or about the type of aid he is to give; for as we have said, there is an order of charity. No one is obliged to sacrifice the greater works of charity and jus-tice to aid someone who would abuse his charity. Even in refusing a request which charity has no right to make, we must be charitable in our manner of refus-ing. One must patiently bear with the fault of the one who seeks to impose upon him. Likewise, we must be careful in judging whether or not a person really is abus-ing charity's rights to ask. Ordinarily we ought to pre-sume that the bond of charity lies at the basis of all re-quests for our help. If we may refuse help to those who are uncharitably inconsiderate in the requests they make of us, on the other hand we should anticipate the needs of those whose charity is so considerate of us that they hesitate to ask our help lest they unduly burden us. If, when necessary, charity knows how to refuse help in a gracious way, true charity is also always gracious in its manner of giving help. If our consent to help another is grudging and ungracious, we deal him an uncharitable blow even as we help him, for we humiliate him by our attitude. My son, to your charity add no reproach, nor spoil any gift by harsh words! Like clew that abates a burning so does a word improve a gift. ÷ ÷ + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22~ 1965 5O7 Sometimes the word means more than the gift; both are offered by a kindly man. Only a fool upbraids before giving: a grudging gift wears out the expectant eyes (Sir 18:14-17). "The word means more than the gift" because the gen-uine charity behind the asking and the giving, the giving and the receiving, is the one thing precious above all else. 4- 4- 4- Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ANTONIO ROSMINI Three Q estions on the Spiritual Life [Antonio Rosmini, 1797-1855, was one of the great figures of the Church in the nineteenth century. Besides founding the Rosminian Fathers (the Institute of Charity), he also founded the Sisters of Providence (the Rosminian Sisters). As the founder of the sisters, he was naturally solicitous for their spiritual progress and advancement. The Review is happy to present here a translation of a letter :from Father Rosmini to the members of the Sisters of Providence in England on three important matters of the spiritual life. The translation has been made by the Reverend Denis Cleary, I.C.; Saint Mary's; Derrys Wood; Wonersh; Guildford, Surrey; England.] Stresa~ September 24, 1850 Dear Daughters in Christ, I would not wish you to judge my charity towards you by the number of letters which you receive from me. The Lord knows that I have you in my heart and that I offer you to Him every day on the altar. If I write infrequently, attribute this to my weakness and to the fact that I know you have a superior who is full of zeal for your growth in Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, now that this superior of yours, and my dear brother in Christ, is returning to you after his journey to Italy, I cannot but send with him a letter which will serve to thank you for the gifts which you have sent me in your charity as a sign of your devo-tion and in which I shall answer those three important questions which you sent to me. I answer these questions because, although I know that you could have the same answers from your immediate superior who is full of wisdom and the spirit of God, I think that hearing the same things from me, as you desire and ask, will give you consolation and strength in doing good because of that affection and obedience which you grant me in Christ Jesus. It is for this reason that I write, not necessarily for your greater instruction. The first question which you ask me is this: "How can one use a spirit of intelligence without falling away from simple and blind obedience?" ÷ Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 + 4. ÷ ¯ 4ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This question and the other two which follow show your spiritual discernment becau.se they manifest your de-sire for instruction in the most perfect things. Perfec-tion demands that we know how to join and harmonize in our daily actions those virtues which, at first sight., seem opposed and even, perhaps, to exclude one another reciprocally. In fact, although no virtue can ever truly be opposed to another, just as no truth can be opposed to another truth, there is an art in uniting harmoniously those virtues which belong to faculties and passions which have contrary tendencies. When possessed by a per-fect man these faculties and passions come together in an orderly way. Knowing how to bring them together, there-fore, belongs to the study of that perfection to which we are consecrated. The person who seeks for perfection is rather like a composer who knows how to blend the voices of contralto, baritone, and bass. Coming now to your que.,stion, I say that simple and blind obedience can be joined with a spirit of intelli-gence and that this can be done in various ways. The First Way. It must be realised that the higher and the more universal the reason which governs our actions, the greater the use we make of a spirit of intelligence. Acting with a spirit of intelligence only means acting ~c-cording to reason without allowing ourselves to be moved or disturbed by any passion whatsoever. Now the highest and most universal of all reasons for acting is that of doing in everything the will of God (I expect you have seen what I have written on this matter and have also read it). But he who obeys with simplicity and purity is certain of doing the will of God who has said concerning ecclesiastical superiors: "He who hears you hears me." This is a simple but efficacious and sublime reason for acting. It contains so much good in itself that, when it is present, it renders every other reason superfluous. So you see that although obedience is called blind this is not because it is without light but because it has so much light that it does not need to take it from elsewhere. It is as though a man is said to be without light because he does not light candles when the sun shines. The Second Way. Besides this, he who obeys blindly and simply can use his spirit of intelligence in the way in which he carries out what he has been commanded. Two persons carry out a command of their superior: one of them does it without reflection, without attention, without putting his heart into the work, without think-ing of what he has been told, without endeavoring to understand what has been commanded; the other does the same work trying to know, first of all, what his supe-riot's intention was, then endeavoring to carry out that intention in the best way possible as if it were his very own. The former, you see, acts without conviction and almost in spite of himself. The other performs his duty willingly; he desires to succeed; he finds his happiness in this work since he is certain of pleasing God. The latter obeys both with simplicity and with a spirit of intelli-gence, like a living and intelligent person, not like a machine. It is obviously impossible for the superior, when he commands, to mention in detail all those things which concern the way in which the order, is to be carried out. He gives the command and then leaves the subject to carry it out. The subject who has the greater spirit of intelligence can be known immediately through observa-tion of the manner in which he carries out his duty. The Third Way. It often happens that the command is more or less general and that many things are left to the common sense of the one who receives it. In this case, the subject must be careful to note the sphere of action de-termined for him by the command of his stiperior. Within that sphere he is obliged by obedience itself to work in a personal manner, not capriciously, 9[ course, but according to sound judgment, that is to say, with a spirit of intelligence. If you consider the different members of a religious congregation, you will see that they all act through obe-dience, even the general of the order because he is subject to the pope at least. Nevertheless, obedience leaves a more or less free field to the details of their obedience. .Superiors have greater scope in this respect than subjects. According to his position, each one can .and must make use of his spirit of intelligence. In your own house, you begin from the central superior and you go down through all the other offices, each of which is subordinate to the one above and so directed by obedience. Nevertheless, all the work has to be carried out with a spirit of intelli-gence. Everyone has to use this spirit in so far as obedi-ence leaves the matter to her discretion. Take another example, a teacher or a nurse, for in-stance. Obedience imposes this work, and so the merit of obedience is present. But what a great deal of intelligent application is needed to carry it out perfectlyl And if you consider even particular commands, you will find that the greater part of them leaves some liberty where one's own intelligence can be used. For instance, you have to write a letter and have even been told in general what to write. Is it not still necessary to think carefully about the way in which the matter is to be expressed? Obedience, therefore, never determines all the actions which a person does--that would be impossible. Many commands give scope, and great scope, to the exercise of personal initia-tive. + + + Three Questions VOLUME 22~ 196~ ~ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Fourth Way. This concerns the observations which we make respectfully to our superiors about the commands they give us. These observations are perfectly lawful, but in order to make them with a true spirit of intelligence three conditions are required: first, that these observations spring simply from zeal for good and t.he glory of God, not from any self-interest; second, that they are not made lightly--in a word, that we do not say the first thing that comes into our head without having re-flected upon the matter; third, that they are made in spirit of submission so that if the superior insists upon his command the subject does not sulk but does what he is told with alacrity and joy. If the matter has great importance for the glory of God and it seems that what is commanded by the superior is not the right course, one can have recourse to a higher superior. This is not contrary to the simplicity of obedi-ence provided that the three conditions mentioned are put Jr;to practice. Superiors like to hear the observations of their subjects provided that these are offered in a spirit of charity and humility. If after all this it happens that what has to be done and what is done for obedience leads to some harmful effect (provided, of course, one is not treating of sin), the one who obeys has lost nothing. On the contrary, he gains because his act of obedience con-tains a mortification which is most pleasing to God. The man who mortifies himself in order to obey has taken great step forward on the road to sanctity both because he has denied his own will and because he has sacrificed his selblove and submitted his reason to a greater reason, God's very own, from which the command comes. That is suflacient for the first question. The second question is this: "How can one unite prac-tically the spirit of contemplation to an active life en-gaged in works of charity?" Since the union of holy contemplation with the exer-cise of works of charity is the aim of our congregation, follows that we must not be satisfied until we have ob-tained from God the light to join these two things in our-selves. I say that we must obtain from God the power of uniting contemplation and action in our life because the' only master who can teach us such a sublime science is, Jesus Christ Himself who gave us a most perfect example' of it. You see, this science consists in nothing else but' union, and the closest possible union, with Jesus Christ. In His mercy He has already prepared in His Church the' means necessary for this union. Even before we were born or knew how to desire them, these means were made' ready for us. What are these means, then, which enablel us to obtain this intimate and continually actuated union~ with Jesus Christ, this union which does not distract us from works of external charity but, on the contrary, im-pels us towards them and helps us to implement them? The first among them is the pure and simple intention of seeking Jesus Christ alone in all our thoughts, works, and actions. This uprightness of intention is harmed to a greater or less degree by any other affection which influ-ences our actions. It follows that our intention of seeking in everything Jesus Christ alone is not perfect if we have not given up self-love and sensuality entirely. I said, how-ever, that that intention which seeks Jesus Christ alone in everything is hurt by every affection which influences our internal or external actions because an affection or sensation which has no influence on our voluntary thoughts or words or actions (in which case the affection or sensation is entirely opposed by our will) in no way diminishes the purity of our intention. On the contrary, it gives it scope and increases it according to those words of God to St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in tribula-tion." The second means, which serves to help the first, con-sists in carrying out all our exercises of piety, and espe-cially our reception of the sacraments and our assistance at Mass, with the greatest possible fervor, tenderness, gratitude, sincerity, and intelligence. It is especially in these two acts of devotion that there is loving union be-tween Jesus Christ and the devout soul. The third means is that of endeavoring continually to keep alive the love of Jesus Christ in our hearts by hold-ing Him present, painted, as it were, before the eyes of the soul. We have to hear His words as they are recorded in the Gospel; we have to consider the actions which He performed during His mortal life and at the moment of His precious death (all these actions should be familiar to a spiritual person); we must apply His words and His example to ourselves and to all that we have to do; we must ask how He would act in our case and how He wishes us to act; when we are in doubt we should take advice, desiring sincerely to know and to do what is most perfect and is most pleasing to Him; we must listen to His voice with reverence and love when He speaks within US. The fourth means is that of beholding Jesus Christ in our neighbor. Whenever we have contact with our neigh-bor, we must endeavor to be of use to him in Jesus Christ and receive from him edification for ourselves. If we have a great zeal for the salvation of souls, we shall do every-thing in our power to win them and to bringlthem close to Jesus Christ. At the same time, we will wage war on useless and idle words and upon superfluous conversa-tioHnso awnedv vear,i nin c uorridoesrit yto. direct our every wo|rd/and work + 4. 4. Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 Antonio Rosrnini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to the betterment of others and of ourselves, and so to bring forth fruits of eternal life, two things are necessary: primarily and principally, charity should always be ou.r guiding star; secondly, we must ask from Jesus Christ the light of His prudence which multiplies the fruits of charity. A soul that always proposes to itself the good of souls in everything that it says or does will always be recollected even in the midst of many external works be-cause its spirit is always intent on charity; and he who thinks always of the charity of Jesus Christ and has noth-ing else in his heart is always recollected in Jesus Christ and in God because the Scripture says: "God is charity." To acquire the habit which enables these four means to fructify in a constant recollection of spirit even in the midst of external occupations, it is necessary to make great efforts in the beginning and mortify oneself reso-lutely with regard to everything that distracts the mind and is opposed" to this state of recollection and of the presence of God. We must ask this grace of Jesus Christ with great constancy. Only by persevering in intense prayer can the soul be established in that permanent con-dition of quiet in God which is never lost through any' external action provided the will does not give itself to evil. Here you must realise that the power which communi-cates with God and is joined to God is different from those other powers with which we work externally. When, therefore, man has come to a certain state of con-templation and union, he works with those powers which regard external actions without placing any obstacle to that supreme power which gives him quiet and rest in God. So it is that we read of certain holy persons who, while they seemed completely taken up externally, were speaking internally with their God and Creator. And this conversation of theirs, instead of impeding them, helped them to do their external works better, just as outward actions did not turn them away from their interior~ union with God. Such a desirable state is usually obtained by those faithful and constant souls who, at the beginning, suffer much and mortify themselves greatly and pray with in-tensity and wholeheartedness. This is the state which the Sisters of Providence must strive to obtain during the time of the novitiate when they have every opportunity, if only they will use it, of binding themselves indissolubly to God, the spouse of their souls. The union begt, n then must last for the whole of their life. Those sisters who have not obtained it completely during their novitiate must strive to gain it as soon as possible, But let us pass to the third question. The third question was, then: "How can one unite per- fect zeal and an ardent desire for the perfection of charity with perfect detachment from the esteem~ of others and a sincere desire for contempt and ill use." This question is no less difficult to dea,1 with than the preceding two--to answer in practice, ,I mean, not in words. But what is difficult to Jesus Christ and to those who hope in Him and pray to Him . ?~t In order to reply to this last question~of yours, I say that it is necessary to suppose in a person h foundation of solid humility. This consists in not attributing to oneself that which belongs to God alone or to other men. Humil-ity, in fact, is only justice. It is just that m~{n should think himself nothing (because he really is such) and that he should think God everything; it is just tl~at man should recognise that glory does not appertain to !nothing but to that which is everything. Therefore he should wish for no glory for himself but the greatest possible ~glory for God. When a man knows these things, it is just ~hat he should feel a certain uneasiness when he is praised by men be-cause he who is nothing cannot desire to b~ praised with-out usurping what is not proper to him. IOn the other hand, he should be joyful when he sees that men glorify God. Man however is not only nothing. He is something worse: he is a sinner (not only because of the sins which he has committed but also because of th~se which he could have committed and would commit con. tinually if God did not have compassion on him). It lis just there-fore that he should desire to be despised[and that he should rejoice when he is ill treated by mefl. Sentiments of this nature must be unshakeable and deeply implanted in the soul of a religious person. Nevertheless, this per-son must realise also that although man is a, lnothing and moreover subject to every sin, Jesus Christ lias redeemed him through His mercy freely given; He h~s saved him and clothed him with Himself in such a maqner that the Christian bears the adornments of Jesus Christ. These are more or less rich and precious according io the abun-dance of virtues, of merits, and of grace poss,essed by the Christian. A man who finds himself adorned in this man-ner is indeed mad if this causes pride in him. On the other hand, if he realises that all these treasures are given to him freely and through no merit of his own, he will humble himself and attribute to God alone dhe glory of them without usurping for himself even the sdaallest part of that glory. Yet, just as God has given to man theset'reasures of v~rtue and of grace through a wholly gratmtous love, so also He makes h~m a paruc~pator of H~s own glory. Once more, though, man must not consider this glo',ry which is g~ven to him as his own but as belonging to Jisus Christ 4, Three Questions VOLUMF 22~ 1963 4. 4. ÷ Antonio Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS who, through His mercy, has wished to pour it out upon those who believe in Him, and to allow them a share it. With all this well understood, we can formulate certain rules which enable us to unite a desire of perfecting onr works of charity with detachment from self-esteem and, moreover, with a sincere desire of contempt (a most pre-cious thing). The rules are the following. First Rule. Generally speaking we must not give any occasion for contempt, at least through our own fault. When, despite this, we are belittled~ we must receive our humiliation with joy as something precious; we must thank God for it without fearing that it will damage our works of charity because, even if some damage does re-sult from it, this is desired by the Lord for His own ends. We ought not to turn away from it but trust in Provi-dence which will know how to obtain greater good h'om the immediate evil. Second Rule. We must never do anything whatever to gain praise from men. To do so is a most despicable act. When praise doescome of its own accord, we must at-tribute it to Jesus Christ to whom alone it belongs; we must, for our part, fear it as a danger and take precau-tions against it by internal acts of humility and contempt of ourselves; we must protest that we do not want to re-ceive it as a part of our reward. After this, if we find that praise is useful towards the perfection of our works of charity, we can take pleasure in it provided that this pleasure concerns the perfection of charity. We must not refer it simply to ourselves and we must be careful that no feeling of vanity or pride arise from it. On the con-trary, after we have received praise we should prepare ourselves for greater humiliation, persuaded that praise has made us no better than we were before. Third Rule. When we realise that the praise has been exaggerated, we should be displeased because this is con-trary to truth and justice. We should attribute it to the large heart of the one who gives it. Fourth Rule. In order to know whether we are really detached ourselves, we must see if we are glad when others are praised. You especially must ask yourselves whether you rejoice when praise is given to your sisters. Even the very smallest dislike or jealousy on this account would be a very great defect. You must be generous with others but especially with your sisters; you must consider their virtues far more than their vices; and you must try to maintain, by just means always, the esteem which others give them. Everyone must be ready to turn praise away from herself and see that it goes instead to her sis-ters. Each one must wish to be first with the work in hand and the last to be praised. This is not a dit~icult thing when a person considers his own defects and the virtues of others; when he no longer judges or condemns the defects of others; when he leaves ~ll judgment to God to whom alone it belongs; when he puts into prac-tice the lesson which Jes.us Christ tau :ht with these words: "Do not judge and you will not be judged. In fact, exposing oneself to the danger of j, " " one's brethern is the same as doing tlztdging wrongly ¯Therefore, in order not to be in danger o~ em an injury. lnj"us ¯uce against them, one must abstain [croom mevitetrinyg d aen-finitive judgment which may harm them. tions as the answers occurred to me. I hope that, if you meditate and do all this, you ever more dear to God and assure for your mortal crown. Your most affectionate fat~ Filth Rule. We must never speak of th ings for which we can be praised-~even the world considers this wrong. Moreover, although we ought not to bl'ame ourselves without good motives, nevertheless we ought to strive to cover up our virtues as far as we can andI to speak con-temptuously of ourselves sometimes provided so with sincerity This i . ¯ ~ .we can do you are speaking with yo~u rp rsaislsteewrso orrm wy iethspl et~cmerlsloyn ws h"en wh.om you are friendly, provided, once mo~, that itwl~tahs a s~ncere foundation. My dear sisters in Christ, I have replied t.o your ques- ,n our Lord will become seives an lin-er in Christ, A.R. ÷ Three Questions VOLU~ ~:,, SISTER JEAN DE MILAN, S.G.C. Toward Greater Maturity ÷ ÷ Sister Jean de Mi-lan, S.G.C., teaches psychology at Rivier College; Nashua, New Hampshire. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 518 The compatibility of neurosis and religion has re-ceived considerable attention in the psychological litera-ture of the last. thirty years. It is argued that sanctity re-quires a certain integrity in the psychic order,1 that man's struggle for perfection is directly proportionate to his mental equilibrium.2 There is no doubt, then, as to the importance of mental health in religious life where men and women consecrate themselves to God by vows to practice the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Religious commit themselves to community living and they depend mostly on one another for the works of the community and for companionship. It takes only elemental charity to prompt one to look into the dynamics of a neurosis in search of the elements incom-patible with a religious life. It is now an accepted fact that without being diagnosed psychoneurotics everyone exhibits neurotic symptoms at irregular intervals. It will be the purpose of this paper to identify these neurotic traits and to suggest measures within the framework of a religious life which can help to attenuate if not to eradicate the troublesome symptoms. The paper will be developed along twelve characteris-tics listed by Schneiders as typical of neurotic person-alities: immaturity and sensitivity, self-centeredness, un-realistic ego ideal, rigidity and anxiety, isolation, ag-gression against self, mental conflict, lack of control, sug-gestibility, irresponsibility, lack of sense of humor, and emotional instability,s These traits can be found in many people including religious; it is only when they become x Jordan Aumann, "Can Neurotics Be Saints?" Cross and Crown, v. 5 (1953), pp. 458-59. s Robert Meskunas, "Sanity and Sanctity: An Inquiry into the Compatibility of Neurosis and Sanctity," Bulletin o] the Guild o] Catholic Psychiatrists, v. 7 (October, 1960), p. 248. s Alexander A. Schneiders, Personal Adjustment and Mental Health (New York: Rinehart, 1955), pp. 390-95. a consistent and persistent pattern that/one speaks of a neurotic personality. As a type of adjustment, it is in-adequate and it represents an meffioent and unwhole-some effort to meet the demands and rdsponsibilities of daily living. / 1. Immaturity,and Sensitivity The neurotics immaturity makes allI problems and frustrations loom large and menacing, IThis tendency, often paired with regression, connotes not only loss mature habits of behavior but a consequ~ent progressive inadequacy of response. The neurotic be.comes decreas-ingly able to meet the ordinary demands for social living and begins to withdraw from acuve part~opauon, m group acuwty. He does not master hfe ~ut expects life to look after him. He is unusually sensitive to comments concerning himself and cannot tolerate/any form criticism. His sensitivity makes the stresses~ and threats of reality almost unbearable¯ Religious life favors the cultivation of a/Christianper-sonality through the development of a perfect life---~ne exquisitely balanced, of noble service to ohe's neighbor, a life most happily modeled on Christ Hi~aself. In lead-ing to spiritual maturity, religious life de~aands of one constant and close personal contacts in theI common life which comprises factors capable of actualizing the po-tentialities of the individual. To be a constructive and mature power, the individual personality ]nust exercise itself through activity upon others. Religious who can be characterized by "immaturity and sensitivity" are likely to be living in a sElf-contained world. They have refused to walk through the doors swinging outward where the self can be ektended and actualized. 2. Self-Centeredness Neuroticism is characterized by a life which is, in some respects, self-centered. It is ~mmatunty s firs.t ally. The neurotic makes his ego the center of the universe; good is what is good for the ego, bad only what unpleasant to it. Menninger, a renowned psychiatrist, b~lieves that Christ Himself laid down one of the pnnople~s of mental health that is now recognized as of paramo,unt impor-tance. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all quoted Christ when they said: "For whosoever will save his life s~all lose it, but whosoever will lose his life for my sake will save it." What better can condense the attributes of a mature per-sonality? "Some men can love others enough~ to derive ¯ more satisfaction from that than from being lo~ved them-selves. It is still a magnificent precept. If you can follow VOLUME 22, 1963 ,519 it, you will never have to make a date with a psychia-trist." 4 Religious life, because of its theocentric plan, teaches a person to surmount his egocentricity. It also provides a basis for satisfactory interpersonal relations and cha:r-ity toward fellow men in the fatherhood of God instead of in changing human sentiments.5 The spirit of self-abnegation and self-denial is fundamental to the re-ligious life. Religious are called to share one mind, one heart, one life, one love in Christ. Their social service is motivated by the love of God in the neighbor. Self-love, then, tends to decrease as a function of one's love. for others. The paradox of a self-centered religious be-comes a serious indictment. + + + Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3. Unrealistic Ego Ideal The neurotic harbors an almost pathological ego ideal which prevents him from achieving a realistic attitude toward the issues and problems of daily life. His goal is a purely idealized and often artificial one. The ego ideal, the self one wants to become, may take the form of an ideal of personal conduct or it may be identified with certain desired accomplishments. The purpose of the ideal is to bring about identification with it in view of self-actualization. It emphasizes the forward movement or activity that is characteristic of living or-ganisms. The personal pattern of tendencies is projected into the future. This orientation toward future goals is commonly accepted by psychologists as a mark of matu-rity. Obviously, it reaches its highest perfection in re-ligion where man is oriented toward his ultimate goal.e Religion aims primarily at bringing persons closer to God, and by doing so it may secondarily promote their mental health. When a person believes that God assists him in a very personal way, life's perplexities and emo-tional crises become relatively unimportant. With such a clear-eyed notion of God, of His claims on the indi-vidual and His plans for him, the religious has a reliable and stable framework upon which to build a plan of life. Religion is the supreme moral virtue dominating his interior life and his relations to other human beings, and the religious view of life becomes the philosophy which dominates both thought and conduct.7 Such a man is strengthened by the sense of his own personal dignity. ' Schneiders, Personal Adjustment, p. 160. ~ James H. VanderVeldt and Robert P. Odenwald, Psychiatry and Catholicism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1952), p. 185. e James E. Royce, Personality and Mental Health (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1955), p. 277. ~ Thomas Verner Moore, Personal Mental Hygiene (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1944), p. 236. A religious has only to gauge his serentty to evaluate himself on this trait. 4. Rigidity and Anxiety The neurotic's rigidity and anxiety d, not allow ~him to adapt to changing situations. Flexibility, suppleness, and malleability are the signs of life. I Rigidity, rigor mortis, is the sign of death. Such is the sta'te of the person who lacks malleability, whose personali~,y is excessively rigid'S Fear and anxiety, the very core of neurosis, are emo-tions which generally assume a rather egoistic character. It is well known and readily accepted thatldiffuasnexiety is reduced in the neurotic by the development of somatic symptomatology, exther phys~ogentc or psychogemc ~n nature. The physical symptoms then bdcome ways of structuring the anxiety¯ Anxiety may result from dejection flowing from one's inabilityto realize his ambitions; it maylbe due to in-jured vanity. There are surprisingly few neurotics' among people who are genuinely humble. Real Ihumil!ty is a prophylaxis against the anxieties one encounters ~n every day human interaction, for the truly huml~le person not only recognizes his own weaknesses and limperfections but he remains peaceful when his deficiencies are recog-nized by others also.9 One who has consecrated himself to God by religious vows is officially the spouse of Christ. Bu~ one can be officially the bride of Christ without having made in reality a complete sacrifice of himself in which his will is identified with and absorbed in the will of God, or without having attained to that psychologtcal state that St. John of the Cross designates as "spiritual ,matrimony." This state results in a cessation of all anxiety and a men-tal state of peace and delightA0 It is quitd remarkable how religious experiences tend to the moral perfectton of the one who has them. They give him a be~ter mode of adjustment in his relations to other humanl beings and a spiritualized conception of the nature of t~ials. 5. Isolation There is a certain amount of hostility in .he neurotic make-up coupled wtth tnabthty to get along w~th others. The psychoneurotm ts essenually a maladjusted personal- 8 Charles J. D. Corcoran, "Types Suited or Unsuited for Religious Vocation," Proceedings o] the Eighth Annual Convocation o[ the Vocation Institute (Notre Dame: Notre Dame Press, 1955), p. 33. 0 Raphael C. McCarthy, Sa]eguarding Mental Health! (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1937), p. 253. lOThomas Verner Moore, The Driving Forces o[ H~man Nature (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1948), pp. 421-22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 521 4. Sister lean de Milan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity and the victim of a bad system of mental habits. isolation results from a group of defense reactions, in-cluding primarily the fundamental biological reactions of defense and avoidance. The neurotic withdraws from his social group and becomes a nuisance even unto him-self. Man is a social being whose ultimate destiny is bound up with his observance of the great commandment dual charity. His perfection as a person is analogous to that of a seed which, to bear fruit, must grow outside of of itself. Religious growth in perfection can be measured in terms of one's serviceability to and influence on others. A life in the service of God and man, a wholehearted de-votion to the ideal of religious life, appears as the realiza-tion of our friendship with God. The profound feeling of loneliness and sense of isolation one experiences oc-casionally can be cured by a sincere trust in God, our friend. 6. Aggression Against Sell Neurotics are characterized by a great deal of petulance, annoyance with others, sensitivity to their at-titudes and behavior, readiness to quarrel and to find fault, and so on. Self-hatred as well as hatred of reality underlies both the spiritual and emotional disturbance. Aggression against self flows from conceited pride which has a twofold weakening effect: one of walling up its victim from reality and the other of making him super-sensitive to anything that might be construed to indicate a belittling attitude on the part of others,ix Running through all these neurotic ups and downs is a thread of chronic dissatisfaction and hopelessness which pre:;ents the eternal problem of "to be or not to be." The neurotic tries to evade the problem but no evasion is possible. He goes on unhappy and feeling offended and disregarded while it is within his power to modify, change, develop, and perfect his attitudes of mind, his emotional reac-tions, and the habits that fall under the competence of the will. It may call for the adoption of a new plan of life. Religious life, by having one strive towards the per-fection of a Christian personality, calls for a conscious development along the lines of private and social con-duct. Weekly confession is productive of a healthy ac-ceptance of one's shortcomings without introspective brooding. One is helped to come to a realistic acknowl-edgement of one's place, one's assets and liabilities, and one's dignity and dependence on God. Meditation is also a great promoter of insight. n James A. Magner, Personality and $uccessIul Living (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1945), p. 44. Mental Conflict Since it is the nature of conflict to pull the organism in different directions at the same time, deep-seated neurotic conflict is bound to disrupt the organization of personality. In the concept of. conflictI the conscience principle is of supreme importance; for it often happens that there is no real conflict between desire and its mere physical fulfillment, or between desire a~d one's sense of expediency, but that it is mainly and al~ove all between desire and the sense of duty. When impulse and fear are in conflict, the neurotic tries to resolve the conflict not by cont.trolling the im-pulse but instead by evasion and decep, uon. The fear results in behavior which seeks grauficauon while trying to keep punishment from occurring; thits strategy com-monly involves secrecy and falsehood. Th~ neurotic seeks to avoid social disapproval, but his conscle, nce hurts him. Attempts at repression may be unsuccessful and the in-dividual may resort to neurotic symptoms. Rehg~on, by reason of its experiences, behefs, and prac-uces, ~s eminently stated to the reducuon of damagxng conflict, feelings, and frustrations. It constantly reminds one of the intrinsic value and dignity of man, and of the fact that he is created to the image and likeness of God; there is no better way to offset the traumatic effects of in-feriority and the feeling of personal worthl~essness. There can be no more solid anchor than trust in! divine provi-dence and in the belief of His personal interest in each of His creatures. Conformity to the will of th~ all-wise God makes life's sorrows and fears bearable. Whlen a religious weakens under the burden of mental conflitcts, it will be wise for him to work out the debits and credits of his conduct in terms of self-will and will of G~d. 8. Lack of Control When the emotions are chronically ou~[ of control, some degree of neurosis exists. There is no neurosis with-out some evidence of failure in control an~t integrative functions. Integration presupposes wisdom ~in the intel-lect and character in the will--a scale of lvalues, self-knowledge, and habits of self-control. Most o,[ the neurot-ics are recruited among those whose will power is undeveloped. Stability amid the ups and downs of emotional moods is essential to both physical and mental heal~.h. Here the virtues of fortitude and temperance play their part. Re-ligion gives moral principles with a bac,king which makes them easier to hold onto when the going is hard. Meditation, a daily spiritual exercise for all religious, Moore, Mental Hygiene, p. 306. 4. Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ $i~tet lean d~ Milan, $.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 524 readjusts their thinking to a proper sense of values. Be-sides, one is not allowed to elude the dynamics of grace for any considerable time when one truly lives his re. ligious life. 9. Suggestibility Suggestibility is closely linked with emotional im-maturity and harmful dependency. The suggestible neu-rotic is controlled by an idea or by someone else rather than by himself. His want of self-confidence makes him dependent upon others so that he leans on their judg-ments and readily yields to suggestion. He is vacillating in his purposes, uncertain in his opinions, fearful of re-sponsibility, and reluctant to assume the initiative in any activity. Such feelings batter at a person's mental in-tegrity until it is weakened or destroyed.13 Suggestibility resembles "lack of control" inasmuch as it implies lack of integration. The greater one's erno-tional vulnerability, the greater will be the predisposition to neurotic reactions. No doubt the neurotic is happier with his neurosis than he would be without it in view of all the circumstances external and internal as he per-ceives them; however, he lacks the happiness of an inte-grated personality. What VanderVeldt said of religion can be said of re-ligious life: "The condition for the mental health value of religion is that people truly live their religion.TM Perhaps not all people who are supposed to be religious and become neurotic have made their religious convic-tions an integral part of their lives. 10. Irresponsibility Sense of responsibility is the realization that one has certain duties and obligations to fulfill and the deter-mination to fulfill them to the best of one's abilities. Sense of responsibility and the willingness to accept obli-gations are dependent to a great extent on maturity. The comparison is often made of a neurosis being a closed door that bars dyn~imic development for the neu-rotic. If the doors of the neurotic hell are locked from the inside, the psychotherapist can only help the patient find the key. This is not an easy task as the neurotic pa-tient clings to his symptoms even though he is disturbed by them and seeks psychiatric help. The neurosis is a way of life that is pleasant to the neurotic, especially when he is able to manipulate the environment to meet his selfish needs. The ability to assume responsibility is in large part a McCarthy, SaIeguarding Mental Health, p. 266. VanderVeldt and Odenwald. Psychiatry and Catholicism, p. 193. matter of moral courage¯ One who has honest religious convicuons feels obhged to do something worthwhile for God and for man. He turns aside from the unwholesome pursuit of selfish pleasures. Religious Iprinciples direct his mind to the purpose of life, and in/so doing they do not deprive him of pleasure but' give it i~ abundance and permanence as he attains the great purp, ose of life in the service of God and man. If he has adopted the religious ideal with enthusiasm, then it become~ a powerful in-hibitory force against the development of unwholesome mental conditions.15 11. Lack ol Sense of Humor A good sense of humor is one of the c iteria of mental health and adjustment. It is not found in the neurotic whose life is humorless, a drab affair d~ minated by ill-ness, conflict, frustration, dissatisfaction, ~and discourage-ment. Humor is based on the perception of incongruities; it is a feeling of surprise, the joyous shock Iof discovery in our appreciation of life's incongruities. To find these con-trasts we must be self-detached,.account ourselves of little ¯ importance, look outwards and not rewards, feel drawn to people and to th~ngs ~n thanksgxwng; for humor ~s the reward o1: a wxll-to-commumty. "Wlll-to-cornmumty ~s not to be understood as a fixed determ~nauon to hve with the community but rather the will td live in a com-munity as a grateful member of a crowd,°r group. Hu-mor should be the natural endowment oflall thowsheo seek to live in religion. The test of a true sense of humor is the capacity to laugh with others at one's self; but that i~ not all. One must discover the reason for such laughter. One must learn to discover in the laughter of others s~omething like a comphment. True humor ~s akin to brotlierly love and sympathy; ~t brads us closer together and relaxes all un- ! due tensions. There is nothing so effecuve in checking the ingrowing pains of pride as a sense of h~umor. People who take themselves too seriously need the ~antidote of a good laugh to reduce values to their true llevel and to declare a permanent moratorium on manyI of their pet grievances and frustrated ambitions.17 A sense of humor combats anxiety, which is a blight on the ~ehg~ous life, by exercising the mind in a way which develops a living, vibrant suppleness. Cheerfulness is the siga which ac-companies sacrifices made out of true love, the love of God. Gloom and sadness are the signs of s~lcrifice made ~ Moore, Mental Hygiene, pp. 244-45. xo Ferdinand Valentine, The Apostolate o[ Chastity (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 15. x7 Magner, Personality and Success]ul Living, p. 48. ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22~ 1963 out of self-love, out of vainglory. A" sense of humor enables one to behd without breaking under the weight: of the cross, to see the proportion between the suffering,; of this life and the glory of the next, and to see oneself in the humble relationship of creature to Creator. 12. Emotional Instability Emotional instability is a dominant feature of the neurotic personality and a primary determinant of the neurotic's difficulties. Along with his emotional change-ability and high general emotionality, he exhibits be-havior that is characteristic of a spoiled child. There is an intimate connection between mental and moral health. Wholesome effective living and mental stability require an adequate scale of values, or philos-ophy of life, and a set of worthwhile attitudes and habits. These qualities can be provided more efficaciously and more abundantly by religion than anything else in one's life. Only moral virtue can give a healthy, integrated personality. The virtues moderate one's emotions and temperament, bringing them into balance. A virtuous life will result in unity and integration of personality. Summary and Conclusion Religious are not immune to neurotic behavior; at one time or another, a religious is likely to exhibit neu-rotic traits. But by its very nature, the religious life can help one counteract the possible neurotic tendencies. A brief discussion of the positive contributions of religious life to mental health was introduced with the discussion of each neurotic trait. The religious man or woman of humble faith in God, of daily prayer and consultation with God, of devotion to his or her religious duties as God has given light to see them has the assurance of a full perspective on life, health of mind, peace of soul, and a view of time in the light of eternity,is ~s James A. Magner, Mental Health in a Mad World (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 298. 4. Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 526 ROBERT j. KRUSE, C.S.C. Au in Religio 'From a supernatural point of view, th, exercise of re-ligious authority and the practice of ehg~ous obedience are meaningful only when conceived as~ participations in the authority and in the obedience of Christ our Lord. eAd::a°~n:r~ ~Vreo~tern~p. t to understand authority and obedi- . ~ a ~nrist-centered way of ~ife, we become gud~ of gloss misunderstanding In such }a situ . - gardless ot the reasonableness "a n d t h et ingenudittlyO oIlf~ oreu-r solutions to the problems which religiouslauthority and religious obedience pose, such solutions remain void of genuine supernatural worth. In discussing authority and obedience, therefore, our first and constant care must be to associate them with our life in Christ. ~therwise our discussion will remain purely human and natural and a ~. consequence sterile Attempts ,~ ~-~ - ~-,. ¯ s. hfe~as ~,s Christian a"nd relig~io tu~s x lcifaett~ ~m Uu~lvt lbnee wanaal~zffd in divine terms. To confront supernatural reality with purely natural reflections betokens a wand of reverence ~r~he g~dly way of life with which we ~re ~a . ~st our Lord. ~ ceu ~n In this article we will speak of authority in the r - ligious life. In a subsequent article we will ~er some r~ flections on religious obedience. Of the t~o topics the latter is the more all,cult. Both are intimately connected. Afith~rity and obedience are relative terms so that what-ever ,s said o~ the one necessarily contains implications for the other. In our discussion of authority ~e ~ill group our considerations about three focal poiqts: first, re-ligious authority and the mystery o[ the ~ncarnation; second, religious authority and the imitation of Christ our Lord; and third, religious authority and] the mystery o~ the Redemption. Divine life flows to the souI through many channels. Ultimately, however, all of those channels drink at a sole spring and that spring is Christ. It is He who gives ÷ ÷ Robert J. Kruse, C.S.C;, is a faculty member ot? Holy Cross Fathers Semi-nary; North Easton, Massachusetts. VOLUME 22, 1965 Robert CK,~.Ce., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 528 to the soul living water, "a fountain of water, springing up unto life everlasting" (Jn 4:14). What is it that the Christian and that the religious seeks? He seeks a share in the life of God. For without a share in the life of the eternal God, man is deprived of all eternal significance. Unless a man looks outside of himself to a higher order, to the transcendent order, to God, in search of an ex-planation for his own existence, unless a man looks be-yond self to Another for the fulfillment of his own noblest hopes, he remains imprisoned without hope in the finite, in the created, in the temporal order--with no more persona/significance than that of any other transi-tory phenomenon. Ultimately, all religious questions re-duce themselves to this sole question: the nature of man's relationship to God, the possibility of man's sharing in the life of God. For apart from such a possibility man becomes merely a moment in time. And self is incapable, totally incompetent to satisfy its own profoundest aspira-tions. So that man seeks a way out of the maze of human, created, and limited reality, finite love, imperfect good-ness and truth, a way which will lead him to the enjoy-ment eternally of unlimited reality, infinite love, perfect truth. That way is Christ. Christ is the sole way. There is no other way. Among all communications of divine life, none re-motely approaches that enjoyed by the holy humanity of Christ our Lord. For in all truth the human intellect, the human will, and the human body of our Savior are the intellect, will, and body of a divine person. No created being save the holy humanity of Christ, that hu-manity f.ull of grace and of truth, enjoys this personal union with God. Truly in the womb of the Virgin Mary are celebrated the nuptials of God and of man. In the mystery of the Incarnation, we witness the wedding of the divine and the human in the person of the Word made flesh. And in virtue of His holy humanity, the Son may be said to render perfect obedience to His Father and our Father. "Therefore in coming into the world, he says., a body thou hast fitted to me .B.ehold, I come., to do thy will, O God" (Heb 10:5-7). It is indeed significant that because of His obedience our Savior is glorified and exalted. "Appearing in the form of man, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even to death on a cross. Therefore God also has exalted him" (Phil 2:7-9). It is equally significant that because of His obedience our Savior lays claim to His Mystical Body, the Church, and wins authority over that Body. "Christ is head of the Church, being himself savior of the body," so that, "the Church is subject to Christ" (Eph 5:23-24). God has made all things "subject under hwihsi cfhe eint,d eaendd i sh hiims b hodey ""a (vEepn hea a2so: 2 'o2-v--e2 r-~ ,a) . r/t t,h, e_ C h u r c h., indeed would onlyY g uruhdrigsitn. gOlyn athssee ontth teor lhthaen dw, imll aon y." sup.eriors. The obvious explanatiofi is a~t hand: ~h:uir. Perxor" ,s not Chtr. iIsn d e e d , t h e s u p e./rior ma n be conspicuously Christlike T~;o ~.2, .y ot. even. course, irrelevant. For the. s.u. p,~er-i~olras naauttlhoonr iat s", .ot authority of Christ even if tbo . ¯ ,~ - y as the --- ~uperaor § conauct is far t~oro gmr ~asnpr itshtlei kper.o Tfohuen rdo osti gonf itfhicea pnrcoeb olefm.~/tihiees I innc aa rfnaailtuioren. God has willed to use human channels fo~" the communi-cation of divine life. First and foremost, t~e holy human-ity of the Word Incarnate. That humani,ty is, of course, "tried as we are in all things except sin" ~Heb 4:15). But in His Mystical Body the Incarnation ~1of the eternal Word is extended through all the centuries of man's pilgrimage in exile. And to His Body C~rist has com-municated His authority. In the Church~.~which is the prolongation through history of the mystery of th c,.,arn.auo.n--davme life is communicated ;,,! ,.~" .~__ t, oa. lhe Church can do this only becaus~ Christ is her Head; and in Christ human nature has lald claim on the divine, on the life of God. So that in th~ Church, the Body of Christ, the perfection and humanity receives truly divine gifts, fduilflfneess of Chri.~t's There is, of course, this crucial our Savior's fence between is --' r-. ,., r~.er ~s holy, perfectly sinl,~ss; the latter str~lYesP:~t~ut~iYn "fer~n'wnghi21.y. In the lmeantime it ~vL~.rot~uide of the holiness of its Hena ~dt. sBeuetk ws rite.~h:daelm Cphtriiosnt oin r - h.as c,o,.mmumcate.d to His Mystical B.bdy a arti~i- ~m,~e, ~sni.n ~f.un ltnaless osw on[ a tuhttaato Mrit"ys, tai c~aa]r-t i_cri, ~.,.;.~ i ~soay cann~o, ~t msucbnv eevretn. t~r,~a, ~,~,,.e~ m_t_ynstee.rry l nofta t}hlie. bIlnec naronra itmm.np ercecmabalien si m~ plliivciirt~lyg aty today and everyday. Such religious are ~unwilling to admit that divine life can be communicated to them through human channels---channels ¯ frailties which the very term "humans"u ibmjepclite tso. Talhlu tsh ien our treatment of authority, perhaps our basic need is to emphasize more the "humanness" of it~that it is the ex- ÷ tension and continuation of the mystery of ~he Incarna-tion, the m)stery of God's making His own a human ÷ nature in order thereby to redeem human nature. y our Loro resid " ~mperfect and sinful human bein¢~. . I , ~ an --~, we mUSt also alIlrm ~ut~i~y VOLUME 22t 1963 5,?,9 4" 4" Robert Kru~e, C£.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 53O that it is a duty incumbent upon those in authority to become increasingly perfect and sinless. In this effort those in authority have a sure guide: our Lord's exercise of authority. We have here a question not of what author-ity might be but of what authority must be. That is to say, there is an obligation for those in authority to ad-minister their trust in a Christlike manner. It is not, therefore, a question of some vague, elusive ideal but rather a question of serious moral obligation. Of cour:;e, as in every creaturely .undertaking, perfection is never totally realized. That does not, however, render its quest any less imperative. What, in more concrete .terms, does the Christlike exercise of authority involve? Fundamental, it seems to us, is the sense of service. "But Jesus called them (the apostles) to him and said, 'You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. Not so is it .among you. On the contrary, whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant; and whoever wishes to be first among you, shall be your slave; even as the Son of Man has not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many' " (Mt 20:25-28). In the last analysis it is the functidn of those in authority in the religious life to contribute by their direction to "building up the Body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the deep knowledge of the Son of God, to perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12--13). Religious authority, then, stands in service of Christ's Mystical Body. The superior must never forget that his commands are addressed to a subject in whom the Spirit of Christ dwells. Let those commands never grieve that Spirit. Authority's commands must come from Christ: and be directed to Christ. That is, the superior must speak words which are sensitive to the Spirit of Christ within himself--words which the Spirit of Christ within the subject recognizes as springing from a kindred Spirit. It is the same Christ who both commands and obeys. Con-siderations of a purely human kind, attitudes which re-flect a purely natural assessment of the nature of author-ity-- these are entirely out of place and constitute a degradation of religious authority. Fundamentally, the superior's role is to act as an instrument for the more per-fect rule of the Spirit of Christ over the hearts and over the conduct of those vowed to religious obedience. In the fulfillment of this role, external trappings de-signed to enhance authority's position are of dubious value. One of the most gifted theoIogians in the Church today writes in connection with this point: In the life of the cloister there are still to be found age-old rituals governing the etiquette of superiors, involving demands of respect from subjects, secretiveness, ma ifestations of su-periority, appeals of superiors to a hi her wi ¯ 5°.? escens,o etc. All hould m' ,hs?lay . or w.Juter away. ~UDerlors s .,~a o ~ ~ permitted to me worm aroudd ,~.~ cast a long ~nd quiet lance at fluential, who re~e~'L~ff?c, . w~o ~re truly ]powerfu~ and in- ¯ ~ a ~reat ~ea/ ot unquestioning obedience pompous front. Superiors should oyu, inetflly i andsmeciut trhitayt ibne cheirntadi na Circumstances their subjecu know ~ore than ' matter at hand? ~ey do about displays of condescension "ro~w st o:- these ourel x , . y e 3ernal competence of the superi8or m proDort~on to ¯ . The truly l~r--- the ~n recognizes spontaneously the 7 ~ cat superior speaking, of all these trappings.i nInsi gthniisf ircea~nacred, ist pisir situuraelllyy salutary to read and meditate upon our Eord's r " . sh~p w~th H~s apostles. Nowhere in the ,ospelse~a~'°~e find our Lord making a fuss over SUch trivia, "You me Master and Lord, and you say well, fqr so call therefore, I the Lord and Master have wasOed yIo aumr f~e eIft,, you also ought to wash the feet of one a,nother. ~i~ ~u ]~ ~x~le, that as I hav~ done t~J ~ ~ ~noum oo (in 13:13-15). Regarding the matter of superiors' see~I i'ng coun~s e' l, some reflections are in order. Today, perha~ps more than at any time in the past, given 'the comolekit o tieth-cent . t Y f twen- . ury apostohc activity, it ~s'urgent ~hat superiors tsheeek i nadspviicrae.t iHonolsy o Mf oththee Hr tohle. ,C ch~ur:c_h:, .e v e ~ .s-e ~ns .i t~"ve to necessity in th~ ~-:-~'o- u s y r ~uVle-s- tw~,h picrohw sohees dd oto~tr tohvise ~ve ~rv 5nao-tt -t.hueg amd- vo¯rice es eorniol ubsu -ot uestions t-h.~ ~,k,u .~. .~ o tfLter n r~e" ulres y the consent of councId.ors asq well. Superiors should gladly reco~ize the Chu ~ch's w" -~d-~ta_g ~ersd taoi nojne gg aai~nde dw firlolimng sleye akvina~il ctohue-m~s :e1l~v,e_s7 o.~'-t~sff~ any reason w ,, the., .k_. ,. ,o . ,,o~,. l~or is there sistance and ehn~l i,g~hyt e~n-mouelnat ctoo nthnonsee t /o~eciria sl~l,a arpcpho fionrt eads-for this task. To put the matter very frankl ~: the Holy Spirit is perfectly capable of inspiring eact and every religious in a community with both a supern ttural view-point and useful practical suggestions re. arding the apostolic work entrusted to the communit, blu.n gtin the s " ' . , Far from + we!gh carefullyu tbhjee cstusp mernmaatut~ravl em, ethrieto s u- e~-'m--r sh,ou!d courage the religious to appropriate ~aoc otit oa n~ wtophoesnal ,p eon-s-sible, and in every case welcome the subject's interest and enthusiasm. It is false to suppose that ;vorthwhile l0 t0 K9~ar0l )R, aph,n 3e~r,4 S. .J . , " R e f l e c t i o n s o n O b c, dience," Crc Currents v. Authority VOLUM~ 22, 1963 Robert K~,r~u.~se,., REVIEW FOR REL)GIOUS ideas can emanate exclusively from those in authority. Such an attitude is an affront to the Holy Spirit. Related to the matter of seeking counsel is the matter of openness. Some superiors, regrettably, are excessively secretive even regarding insignificant daily directives. Many of their undertakings are shrouded with an aura.of mystery. The real mystery is what advantage they think derives from such a procedure. It is small wonder that subjects fail to display much enthusiasm for the su-perior's proposals when they are rarely invited to share in the superior's confidence. We would recommend to such superiors prayerful reflection on the words of our Lord spoken in the intimacy of the Last Supper. "No longer do I call you servants, because the servant does not know what his master does. But I have called you friends, because all things that I have heard from my Father I have made.known to you" On 15:15). What a contrast between the conduct of our Lord towards iHis apostles and the conduct of some superiors towards their religious. In this connection it is most helpful for supe-riors to cultivate within their communities a family spirit and that holy familiarity which the term "family" suggests. Nothing is to be gained by remaining aloof and distant. How can one who is aloof and distant touch and quicken the hearts of his subjects with the Spirit.of Christ? We might consider many other practical questions re-garding the Christlike exercise of authority. More im-portant, though, than coming to grips with parti(:ular problems is grasping the ideal which will serve as a guide for the resolution of every problem. That ideal is at once easy to understand and difficult to practice. What would our Lord do if He were in my place? How would He handle this problem? How would He win to Himself this person? To be a good superior demands intimate knowl-edge of our Lord and constant docility to the inspirations of His Spirit. Finally, some comments regarding authority and the mystery of the Redemption. The religious life, as all Christian life, is at the same time both incarnational and eschatological in character. It looks beyond the temporal order to the creation of new hea,~ens and a new earth. Indeed, the mystery of the Incarnation is itself the prin-ciple of this transformation. God makes Himself a sharer in our humanity only that we in turn might: share in His divinity. And ultimately our divinization will be accomplished solely by our personal sharing in the mys-tery of the Redemption. We must make our own the mys-tery of Christ's passover from death to life. With Christ, the great wayfarer, we journey each day through ter-restrial exile and affliction to our celestial dwelling and resurrection. "Wherefore we do not los! heart. On the contrary, even though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by d~y. For our pres-ent light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measure (2 Cor 4:16-17). Every Christian in the fulfillment of h, is vocation en-counters the cross of Christ. Justly does Saint Paul declare that we are ' always beanng about ~n our Ibody the dying of Jesus, so that the life also of Jesus maylbe made mani-fest in our bodily frame" (2 Cor 4:10). Certainly the re-hg~ ous superior ~s no exception to th~s rule. The exercise of authority is a cross. The superior shoul~l willingly em-brace that cross recognizing that only by Isharing in the mystery of the cross is self-love subject to passion and to death and the love of God to renewal and ~o resurrection. "This saying is true: If we have died withI him, we shall also live with him; if we endure, we shall rilso reign with him" (2 Tim 2:11-12). To exercise authority with anxious care is the supe-riot's cross. It requires no small self-sacnfic,e. On the con-trary, thanks to the constant demands of all kinds made ¯ upon his time, his energies, and his interest, the superior is truly "poured out in sacrifice" (2 Tim 4:8). A continu-ing death to self-love attends the wgflant superior s com-mitment to his holy trust. In this context welmust address ourselves to one problem in particular--a problem which occasions the deepest suffering for the conscientious su-perior. Stated in the broadest possible term~s, that prob-lem is one simply of remaining faithful t~o the super-natural order m the face of the pressures wli~ch a purely natural wewpo~nt bnngs to bear on rehgmus hfe and the apostolate. How many superiors are d~str, essed by the disintegration of spiritual values with which they are periodically confronted? How are they to res~pond to this challenge? Doubtless, the question is a vexifi~.g one. In such cases what is clear is that the super!or must re-main faithful to supernatural values. Spec~ous as the temptation to compromise may be, such compromise un-dermines. the very structure of religious life. S~metimes it may appear that only by making concessions to man's innate self-indulgence can harmony be maintained. Are not such concessions a mistake? Has not our ILord Him-self declared: "Do not think that I have come to send peace upon the earth; I have come to bring alsword, not peace., and a man's enemies will be those of his own household" (Mr 10:34-36). Obviously we are not sug-gesung that the superior pounce upon every trifling de-parture from regular &sc~phne. Shortcomings of this kind are usually nothing more than manifestations of our common frailty in persons of genuine goo~,d will. To ÷ ÷ ÷ Authority VOLUME 22, 1963 533 ÷ Robert Krt~e, .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 534 tax the subject's good will over every peccadillo is hardly a Christlike manner of exercising authority. The situ;t-tion we envisage is far different. We have in mind the case of the religious who deliberately and systematically by his actions and attitudes exhibits practical contempt for the religious life. Cost what it may the superior mtlst courageously resist such a betrayal of religious values. To permit flagrant disregard for the supernatural order to go unchecked is intolerable. It proves demoralizing for those religious honestly striving to fulfill their vows and scan-dalizing for the faithful who almost inevitably become acquainted with such a state of affairs. Certainly in all such cases those in authority must dis-play arl exquisite kindness and sympathy, tempering the rmness of their decisions with tangible benevolence, t,ut I firm tliey must be--for the sake of the religious life it-self. Let St. Paul's exercise of authority be their model: "For though we walk in the flesh, we do not make war according to the flesh; for the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but powerful before God to the demolishing of strongholds, the destroying of reasonings--yes, of every lofty thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every mind into captivity to the .obedience of Christ" (2 Cor 10:3-6). Surely no cross burdens the zeal-ous superior with more anguish than the recalcitrant subject. It taxes both his prudence and his courage to the utmost. Only let him recognize in tiffs cross an instrument for his personal sanctification. For the realization of God's will let him sacrifice his own popularity. To act with firmness and decision seems temperamentally almost impossible for many superiors. Nevertheless, their voca-tion demands just such firmness. In their weakness let them surrender to the Spirit of Christ their Lord, the Spirit of fortitude, who has been poured forth in their hearts. By so doing they will purify their own souls and will contribute significantly to the sanctification of their subjects. For their course of action is self-crucifying and so redeeming. Regarding positive steps to be taken in such situations, it is extremely difficult to generalize. Two suggestions come to mind which may prove of some utility. First, when dealing with such cases it would seem particularly desirable for the superior to work in close harmony with his councilors. Such collaboration contributes signifi-cantly to an objective evaluation of the problem at hand, minimizing the danger of the superior's being prompted by merely human considerations in his analysis of the situation. In addition, one or another councilor may be in a much more advantageous position to cope with the problem than the superior himself. Second, it would seem a duty incumbent upon the superior to neutralize and even to turn to the spiritual advantage of the corn .any d!sedification or scandal ar;~;n~ t_AJ_ ,mun"l.ty ject's behavior Cann~, -~-- .o,,:~ ~,ul~ an unruly sun- ,,L L.c superior exploit this oppor- ~t~rn2~aYn~n~?Cf~lrC~etaer:nnce~hn:ne~ elli:k,gelo,u as s~ ;wttiteuldle sa osf tuon- encourage prayer and sacrifice 'both for dheir delino confrere and for their own . : ¯ v,--o~vc,ance ~n noeiity. This ~uh~ULnb7 odn°noe;~of_ co,urse: ,m. a spirit of h~mility. Passinl~ tiit-~rS snoulo. I~e SCFU U ' " violatioofn - - . e rChh ri.s.t.h. kpe sIpoiruit swlhyi cahv ~ohoiduled dan aimsa ate ! the entire community. Rather, a sense of cornorate re-sponsibility and an awareness of man's Inborn weakness should be developed. In some such anner as this can the superior offset the harm done y th problem reli-b ! gtous in his community. In this article we have attempted to relate the exercise of religious authorit,, to the fun-'- our faith¯ the Incar~nation a--~ -u~a-m- e,~n t-a tt m. ysteries ot ¯ .tt ttte l~eclemDtlon A from such a vision of .~-^-: . t : 2 part dn~,.~.~u ,.~.,. ,~.~. . -,,~:,~,tLty mere e, XlStS tlae real ,at purely natural attitudes will invade our minds and shape our thinking along lihes devoid supernatural dimensio¯ns Such in~r,,o:~-- l_ . - of dured. That is why, practically "s -n~e,a~k,-isn c,~an .nt.o_t _o e, en- ,- ~,,I t,e sole tr .bmee Cashurrt.set s0 ,of wthne eCxherirsctiisaen oe¯xf eirtc ~ioo^,~-- u^-t', -a.".u.[ni o, r¯ltv can onu.e devoted some attention to ¯ xoi tHIS reason we also ¯ authori"ty and ~th e ~¯m~¯ tation of Christ. In closing, we would recommend to all who seek more knowled,,e on the su~-:- - -- ,~ d- ivine Lord¯ For l~ove of Him iosj cbcotr nm oatf t~,~kenyo wstuleadyg oeu orf Him,. and out of love shall grow likeness. And ultimate that ~s all Christian authority needs: to be ~hristlike. ly + + ÷ Authority VOLUME 22~ 196~ BROTHER PHILIP HARRIS, O.S.F. The Parent's Role in Guidance 4. Brother Philip Harris, O.S.F., is the vice president of development of St. Francis College; Brooklyn, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS One area of formal guidance1 in the schools today which has been most neglected but which holds the great-est promise for the future is parent guidance. Although extensive training is now provided for a profession or an occupation, little assistance is offered to the newly-mar-ried couple facing one of the most challenging human responsibilities--the rearing and education of children. The average parents want to do a good job of raising their offspring as useful citizens. But they need the~ as-sistance of educators who are willing to share the fruit of their own special knowledge and experience. Such a partnership with parents can be a.great aid to the over-burdened and under-staffed guidance department as it seeks to help a maximum number of youth in adjusting to a confusing and complex twentieth-century world. By right, and in fact, the parent is the child's principal counselor. Jusot as parents have the primary duty to edu-cate their children, so they have the basic obligation of providing sound guidance to them. Any guidance en-deavors of the school should be based on this premise, for educators only supplement the counsel given to students by their parents. The influence of parents on a child's life decisions is formidable. It is the task of the school also to aid the parent so that the young person makes the correct decisions and attains optimum personal development. It is understandable that in this age of rapid techno-logical changes, vocational opportunity, and personal challenge parents would look to the guidance specialist to help them discover, develop, and direct all of the God-given potentialities of the child. The theme of this con-ference is "The Adjustment of Young People to a World in Accelerated Technical and Economic Evolution." Par-ents possess the opportunity to assist today's youth to be- 1 This is the text of a paper delivered to the International Con-ference on School and Vocational Guidance, Paris, July 16-22, 1962. come tomorrow's successful adults. Ho!ever, the faculty in general and the guidance worker in[particular must help parents to understand the child of tl~ television and the space age, to project themselves into the future so as to determine educational and vocational possibilities for their children in the decades ahead, to appreciate the school and the guidance department's objectives and practices, to utilize good principles of met tal hygiene and right living in their families. Such a plan for cooperative and compiementary child formation by parents and educators must be~in with the pre-school youngster and continue throul~h ~aigher stud-ies. How to accomplish this will be the Isubject of this paper. Before examining the methods for peiping parents to fulfill their natural role as guides, it is ~seful to realize the advantages of such emphasis through t ae student per. sonnel services of the school. Values o[ Parent Guidance A parental guidance program strengthms a schooI's guidance efforts in the following ways: l) Teachers are limited in the amoun~ of time and energy they can devote to helping pupils so~ve their prob-lems and meet life's challenges. Trained counselors, even on the high school level, are few in nurhber and can guide only a fraction of the student bod~. Any sound guidance practices, therefore, that parents can utilize with their offspring will lessen the educator's load and permit school counselors to do more effectiv~ worL 2) Prevention of more serious problems ~hould be the aim of .any. paren.tal gu¯idance effort. If p~rents can be alerted to signs ot emotional disturbances, .to the effects of broken homes or rejection, to their children,s needs especially psychological), to the acceptance Iof their chil- ~tgi~srd.less ,of speci.a.1 talent or limitation~, then many 3) Througinh stchheoiro cl ownitlalc bt ew riethd upcaerden otsr ,a evdouicdaetdo.rs may gain insight into the family background ofttheir pupils and are better able to understand each child! 4) Parents gain a greater appreciation of]the school's program and the teacher's efforts. As a resuh, they may give increased support to school activities, fcr they truly appreciate every endeavor made for their chil ~l's improve-ment. Some of the means for translating these calues into realities through the school's guidance effor follow: Parent Clubs Teachers are familiar with various home-sc/~ ol groups, such as the Parent Teacher Association and Fathers' or Mothers' Guild approach. Such or~anization~. o ]. however, ÷ ÷ ~Pmarde Gntusidance VOLUME 22, 1963 4" 4" 4" Phili~ HaOr.Sr.iFs,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should have a two-way effect. The parents may raise funds for special school projects and assist in other ways; the school should provide, in turn, programs that help the members do a better job in their role as parents. Par-ents with exceptional training and skills may be willilxg to aid pupils and other parents with special knowledge and experience. For example, speakers for a career day can be recruited from a parents' guild; or parents who are doctors, nurses, or psychologists, can be called upon to address the parent group. Volunteer workers of all types from among the pupils' parents may offer free service to the school. A well-functioning parent club can be a deterrent to juvenile delinquency and offer good leisure time activ-ities for both parents and children. It not only will bring the school and home into closer cooperation but also may promote greater harmony and understanding between parent and child. Parent Forums Any aspect of child development or improvement serves as a good topic for a parent forum. It is best ithat parents be invited together who represent children of distinct grade or age levels, such as the upper, middle, or primary grades, or the pre-adolescent or adolescent pe-riod. Thus, there will be some common meeting ground for discussion. The student's intellectual, vocational, so-cial, or moral development can serve as the basis for a number of group conferences. This type of affair can be conducted in various ways. One is to have a guest or faculty speaker whose address is followed by questions from the floor. Another procedure brings in a specialist whose talk is discussed by a panel of parents with a faculty member as moderator. Parents of the graduating or senior class often profit from an educational forum to which representatives of high schools (or colleges) which the graduates will likely attend are invited for individual questioning or group discussion. These general meetings of parents are most effective when they do not take more than two hours for the total program. They may be preceded by some type of audio-visual aid while the assembly hall is slowly filling up. Sometimes films on adolescence or family mental hygiene may be projected and then followed by a discussion led by one of the faculty. Usually parent forums are held in the evening, but a week end or holiday afternoon may prove appropriate. Refreshments served after such events help teachers to meet the parents in a relaxed, social atmosphere. Parent Group Conferences These conferences are small group me~etings of parents and a teacher. If a guidance counselor or~ school l~sychol-ogist is available, these conferences may be arranged with him. These group interviews run'from ~fteen to twenty ~tin.utes and ,gi.ve the parents an. opport,~nity to present ae~r parental ~mpressions and experiences and to hear the educator's evaluation of their child. ~uch interviews have great potential for "preventive" ~ ¯ cational, vocational, or social areas. Tclo{uen tseechhn~n iinq ueed uis, most effecti.ve when these conferences a~e arranged parents a common problem, rot ex!mple, ents of students failing the sam~ two school subjects or the parents of pupils who are truant or.l.the parents of students who are withdrawn and antisocial or the parents of "exceptional" children--such natural groupings will permit the process of multiple counselin~ to take place. The teache~-counselor must prepare for ~he conferences by studying the family background anbdeI t¯horoughly fwahmosilei apra rwenitths mthaek ec uump tuhlea tgirvoeu pre. cords of the studbnts ,u. oSno motm tet~ i.sn p.terorecsetidnugr ree sbeya rPcrho hfaess sboeresn Sreapwo r~tnedd Mona ah vlearr iaa-t Chico State College in the United States. Their gr0ut~ counseling approach included botfi parents and student~. It centered a~0und underachieving pupils and involved a series of eight sessions where freedom of e~xpression was uppermost. First, students were asked to sit in a circle of six with a counselor, while the parents Isat off to the side as observers. Then, after personal introductions stu-dents were asked to express their feelings a~s to why ,they were ,u.nderach.ieving. The sessions were structured aproos.tut~.moan sK weye rteo ps,w cist cohre qdu, ewstiitohn tsh. eA pfaterre nthtsir itn3 ~th mei ncuirtcesle the and the youth as observers. Prior to such meetings~, it is helpful if both parents and students fill out an inventory of their attitudes toward each other and sc[ ool. Gradually, parent and offspring will gain insight into their own personal relationships and uriders~ anding as to why the child is not obtaining better grade.,. A plan for improvement can be developed, and a gap of time be-tween the fifth and the last two sessions will )ermit them to try out these ideas in practice. Then, th~ final guid-ance periods can be devoted to reports of success or fail-ure as well as a realistic review with implications for the future. The initial results of this technique i adicate that such family counseling can become a useful part of the school guidance program. Parents and Guidance + + ÷ Philip Harris, O .S.F. REVIEW FOR REL]G|OUS 540 Individual Parent Guidance Teachers and administrators have long met with par-ents on an individual basis to discuss their mutual con.- cern--the student. Frequently, such meetings were con-cerned with an analysis of the pupil's problems, abilitiet~, potential, and plans. However, this old technique can be made more effective by the use of some modern ap-proaches. For example, with the student's permission, his autobiography, anecdotal records, test results and ventories may be interpreted and discussed with parents. Another useful procedure is role-playing--the teacher switching to the role of the parent or the child and pos-sibly the parent switching to the role of the student. Or, the youth may be invited to attend the session to explain his feelings or position, or to "role-play" his parents. Parent Bulletins and Reports In addition to the written reports commonly given to parents by schools, bulletins which interpret standard-ized test results may be prepared to help parents gain greater insight into their child's abilities, aptitudes, and interests. A newsletter can be issued by the guidance de-partment, principal, or parent organization on: com-munity guidance and psychological resources; suggested means of helping a child with specific physical, psycho-logical, or social problems; a bibliography of free or in-expensive publications useful in the guidance of youth, of use to parents; scholarship or student aid opportuni-ties; entrance requirements of local institutions of higher education; projects for family group recreation; adoles-cent needs and conflicts; and principles of good human relations in the home. In working with modern parents, it is wise to consider the changes that have taken place in parental attitudes toward education and their goals as parents. The Chang-ing American Parent by Daniel R. Miller and Guy E. Swanson (New York: Wiley, 1959) is but one example of published reports that provide much light on the sub-ject. Many guidance books for teachers contain a chapter or two on working with parents. A recent volume, for example, Guidance in the Elementary Classroom by Gerald and Norma Kowitz (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1959) devotes the last chapter to "Counseling with Par-ents." Another recommended work is Adlerian Family Counseling edited by Dreikurs-Corsini-Lowe-Sonstegard (University of Oregon Press). The school's attempt to aid the parents to fulfill their God-given responsibilities as guides to their own children will undoubtedly prove fruitful in the good accomplished attaining the objectives of the school guidance service, in saving on teacher time and energy, and in the, good public relations thus promoted. SISTER TERESA MARY, C.S.CI Religious 0 ce and Critical Thinking It is often said that we are living in a critical t.he people of the present tim . L . a.ge,. T, hat mose of the ,~, o,~L- _, ~- ,~-,: naor,e critical t~aa consc.musne~s s. .o.f. t~h,e,, ~co, mat pteIeaxstl tmy opfa rtth, efr uon~i tvheerisre g. eMateenr recognize that they must constantly adapt [their thinking to manifold new discoveries being made.~ While it is not necessary to doubt the existence of absolutes as some of I our contemporaries do, the need. to recq~ze relative aspects of man's being and knowledge o~ the world is much more apparent today than ever b~fore A new manifestation of the evolutionary ~rocess in th ha,s . ~coe ab?y~ largely because ot t~he ~e~t ro e world ~twy esncthioetlhar cs einnt uthreiesse Mpeoriroedosv eisr, bethe ~ i"nng o cw o¯~m ~em,~ u g -ne i c a a a.te c~ea~ath m content and method to large masses of or " ~eople. The spread of scientifi- -~ . ,-- , dreary the development of the crit~ic ~a-lu supginrti tn eacmespsnargil ym menea. nIss this critical spirit a good or an evil for them? than e a s g ~re Although the wordc .n.t~.osm,, often e a to break down some existing structurec ownintohtoeus ta desire apprec~atmn of facts~ ~t need not have th:~ 1 . ~rop~r meamng As a genuine intellectual effort, ~,t~s ure-sfuolrttsu nmaatye more often be presupposed as good and ~onstructive. Criticism is usually offered out o~ a sincere ~ntent'on to better the existing structure, not to destroy i~, and~is the m~ural product o~ a creative mind. Without seein~ the ~ ly as the values which he holds have been critically examined, Sister Teresa ra~"mnally acceet~d,.an~ then u~e Mary, 5 as general guides to behavior is in-ra~ her than as ng~d mvmlable principles can the perso~ be character- structor in theolo~ ~zed ~ liberally educated." Paul L. Dressel, "'The Role of Critical at St. Mary's Col-Thinking in Acquiring Enduring Attitudes and lege; Notre Dame, w~th Revolutionary Chan~es ~ . Know'ledge to Deal Indiana. National Con er~ . ~. ?~.u, a paper presente~ to a. 19 .~ f . u n~gner Education in Ch'cz£. ~ ~' v0~v~ ~, ÷ + ÷ Sister Teresa Mary, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS deficiencies in the current state of our existence, individ-ually and within a group, we cannot even maintain our present good, much less acquire all the good that is po:~- sible for us.2 The tendency of the modern age to be critical can, if rightly exercised, open up wider oppo:r-tunities for full human existence. Having recognized the value of the critical process in human activity, we come to the problem of this article, to consider the relationship of criticism to the virtue o[ obedience in the religious life. While attachment to per-sonal judgment has always been the crucial issue in the question of obedience, this matter takes on added dimen-sions in an age which emphasizes the value of a good, free, critical personal judgment. When a subject has been educated to think for himself, there is bound to be a se-vere adjustment for his personality if he is obliged to give this up in the interest of religious obedience. Part of our problem will be to determine whether the subject of obe-dience is obliged to give up personal judgment in any way and, if not, how he is to coordinate a conflicting judgment with the will of the superior. The following examples from current articles should suffice to show that there are a variety of answers to the problem of obedience. These answers have seldom been compared so that some sharp differences among them could be properly noted. It will be well to look at them first before trying to answer whether religious obedience and critical thinking are compatible. All authors, of course, agree on two points: the supe-rior's will is to be obeyed in all commands which are not sinful, and this obedience must be more than a mere external execution of the command; as a genuine human act it must flow from self-determination to the goodness of the act of obedience. The religious subject recognizes in the light of faith that the superior has been invested with authority in a congregation estab

Issue 18.2 of the Review for Religious, 1959. ; Review for Religious MARCH. 15, 1959 Allocution to Contemplative Nuns By Pius XII Practice of the Holy See By Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Less Me "By Conan McCreary, O.F.M.Cap. Saint Joseph and the Interior Life By Sister Emily Joseph, C.S.J. Survey of Roman Documents Views, News, and Previews Questions and Answers Book Reviews and Notices 65 77 86 90 100 ~106 108 116 VOLUME 18 NUMBER 2 Volume 18 March 15", 1959 Number 2 OUR CONTRIBUTORS FRANK C. BRENNAN is stationed at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. JOSEPH F. GALLEN, the editor of our Question and Answer Department, is professor of Canon Law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. CONAN McCREARY is a student of theology at Capuchin College, 4121 Harewood Road, N. E., Wash-ingto 17, D.C. SISTER EMILY JOSEPH is stationed at the College of St. Rose, Albany, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1959. Vol. 18, No. 2. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Bpulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Copyright, 1959, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. with ecclesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Missouri. Copyright, 1959, by The Queen's ,Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Editor: R. F. Smith, S.J. Associate Editors: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Assistant Editors: John E. Becker, S.J.; Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Departmental Editors: Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Earl A. Weis, S.J. Please send all renewals, new subscriptions, and business correspondence to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Please send all manuscripts and editorial correspondence to: Review for Religious, St. Mary's College~ St. Marys, Kansas. Plus Xll's AIIocution to Cloistered Contemplatives Translat:ed by Frank C. Brennan, S.J. [The first part of this allocution was published in the January issue of the REV1EW FOR RELIGIOUS; the last part will be published in the May issue. The successive parts of ':he allocution were broadcast by Plus XII on July 19, July 26, and August 2, 1958. The offical text is to be found "in Acta Apostoficae Sedis (AAS), v. 50 (1958), pp. 562-86. A~I divisions and sub-titles in the translation are also found in the official text.] PART II: KNOW THE,CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE SINCE WE SUMMARIZED the fpi,ar, srtt of Our allocu-tion by saying:'"Know what you are,' We might give this second part the title: "Love what you are." This love will lead you, beloved daughters, along your own proper way to the God who addresses to you a personal appeal. We will here successively examine the principal motives for lov-ing the contemplative life, the attitude with which you ought to regard it, and the particular traits which should charac-terize your attachment to it. Motives and Sources of Love for the Contemplative Life Love is strong on!y if its object is lovable in the fullest sense, only, that is, if it is good in itself and capable of com-municating that goodness. But is not God the supreme good, both in Himself and in His works--in the work of creation and especially in the redemptive work which reveals th'e Father's love for mankind? "By this hath the love of God appeared towards us," writes St. John, "because God hath sent His only begotten Son into the world that we may live by Him.''~ How can man respond to this astonishing proof of the divine love save by accepting it humbly and totally? "We have known the love which God hath for us," continues St. Joh'n, "and we have believed in it. God is love; whoever abideth in love, abideth in God, and God in him.": Such is the essence of the contempla- ~I Jn 4:9. ¯ 2 Ihid., 4:16. 65 P~us XlI Review for Religious tive life: to live in God by charity so that God may live in you. Indeed, your daily efforts have no other purpose but that of putting your mind and heart always more intimately in contact with the Lord who reveals Himself to you and who invites you to take part in His work of redemption, in His cross, and in the spreading of His Church. This holds for all Christians, but more particularly for those who are engaged in a state of perfection. Here again the ways of God will vary. Your religious profession, together with the contemplative life which you have chosen, consecrates you more exclusiveiy to this search after divine union according to the particular spirit of your order and according to the personal graces which the Lord gives you. Let your love then go out to the contempla-tive life with all its distinctive claims, since it leads you to the perfection of charity and holds you in its radiance. Other motives, although not so important, can neverthe-less help to confirm and strengthen your interior conviction. These can be found in the Scriptures, in the attitude of the Church towards the contemplative life, and "in the fruits which this life has yielded. Without doubt, the scriptural passages and the truths which We will point out have an import which goes quite beyond the domain of the contemplative life; but they do apply to it in a way that is unique, and they will certainly go far toward purifying and confirming the love which you have for your vocation. The Scriptures contain many passages concerning the consecration of man to God and to Christ. These texts, so full of significance, will reveal their hidden meanings only to those who explore them °diligentl~ and meditate on them prayerfully. The same Holy Spirit who inspired their compo-sition continues through them to manifest the intensity of the contemplative vocation and the riches which it contains. "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God. . This is the greatest and the first commandment.''s 3 Mt 22:37-38. 66 March, 1959 CLOISTERED CONTEMPLATIVES "The unmarried woman and the viygin think about the things of the Lord.''4 "These follow the Lamb wherever He goes.''5 "Now this is everlasting life, that they may know Thee, the only true" God, and Him whom Thou has sent, Jesus Christ.'''~ Elsewhere the Scriptures speak of the treasures hidden in Jesus. Christ, our Lord and our God--treasures which come from His boundless love for us and which persevering con-templation little by little unveils. "The Word was God . The Word was made flesh. . . . And we saw His glory.''v "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.''s "My Lord and my God.'''~ The contemplative nun is well acquainted with the cruci-fied Lord and with the cross which she takes each day into her hands. She often recalls the words of Saint Paul: "I am crucified with Christ . Christ lives in me . Christ who loved me and gave Himself up for me.''~° "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? . . . I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.''~1 The works of penance and of mortification which form part of the contemplative life fulfill the words of Saint Paui: "What is lacking in the sufferings of Christ, I fill up in my flesh for His body, which is the Church.''1: Such scriptural texts will fill the contemplative soul who meditates on them with a profound joy and will bind that I Cot 7:34. Apoc 14:4. Jn 17:3. Jn 1:1.14. Mt 16:17. Jn 20:28. Gal 2:19-20. Rom 8:35, 38-39. Col 1 : 24. 67 P~us XII Review for Religious soul more intimately to God and to Christ. They invite the soul to embrace and lovingly to practice a vocation which leads unwaveringly to the love of God and of His incarnate Son. Since~the, Church speaks of the contemplative life as emi-nently worthy of esteem; since she approves it with all her authority and confers numerous privileges on it; since she dignifies its inauguration with a solemn liturgical ceremony and surrounds it with abundant protective measures; one can cer-tainly see in all this a clear proof of her esteem for this life and thereby gain a weighty motive for being devoted to it. Among countless ecclesiastical documents concerned with the contemplative life, We will mention only three: the apostolic constitution Sponsa Christi, the blessing and consecration of virgins in the Roman Pontifical (whose ancient arid solemn formulas are reserved to contemplative nuns by Article III, paragraph 3 of the constitution Sponsa Christi), and the en-cyclical Sacra virginitas of March 25, 1954.13 The apostolic constitution Sponsa Christi shows in its historical part the high esteem in which the Church holds the state of virginity and of cloistered contemplation. The docu-ment recalls "the sentiments of esteem and of love which the Church has always nourished for virgins consecrated to God," from the very beginning of her existence. As we have pointed out, the constitution insists on the importance of contempla-tion to which all other monastic observances are subordinate. From the consecration of virgins let us note the words which the bishop addresses to the candidates when presenting them with the habit and the insignia of their estate: "I unite you as a spouse to Jesus Christ, Son of the Almighty Father, that He may preserve you without fault! Receive then the ring of fidelity, the seal of the Holy Spirit, that you may be called the spouse of God, and after serving Him faithfully, be crowned for all eternity.''~4 ~:IAAS, 46 (1954), 161-91. 14 Pontificale Romanum, De benedictione et consecratione virginum. 68 "March, 1959 CLOISTERED CONTEMPLATIVES In the first section of .the encyclical Sacra Virginitas the excellence of virginity is treated. The encyclical proves this excellence first of all by referring to the Gospels and, in fact, to the very words of Christ Himself; and secondly, by recall-ing Saint Paul's doctrine on virginity chosen out of love for God. The encyclical likewise cites Saint Cyprian and Saint Augustine, who point up the powerful effects of such vir-ginity; and it stresses the importance of the vow which gives this virginity the strength of a virtue. The superiority of vir-ginity over marriage, the many divine blessings which it merits, and the wonderful fruits which it produces are all discussed in the same encyclical. These fruits of the contemplative life, which are also treated in the apostolic constitution Sponsa Christi, merit special consideration because their realization will awaken in you a yet deeper and more resolute devotion to your contemplative vocation. We might expatiate in great detail on the lives of the great contemplative saints, Saint Teresa of Avila, for example, or Saint Therese of the Child Jesus, both Carmelites. But We prefer to concern Ourselves with your personal experience and with 'your community life. The contemplative nun who is devoted wholeheartedly and sincerely to her life does not fail to perceive andrelish in herself the fruits of her efforts. While outwardly her life unfolds in a pattern fixed "by the order of the day and by the exercises of the rule, inwardly she matures and deepens her life by passing through successive periods of consolation and trial, of enlightenment and obscurity, which leave intact her intimate union with God. Thus in spite .of obstacles from within and from without, in spite of failures and weaknesses, she goes forward, confident of God's help, until there comes that hour--often unexpectedly--when she hears the words: "Behold the Bridegroom is coming, go forth and meet Him.''1~ We urge each of you individually to apply yourselves with all your strength to the duties of your state in life as contempla- 69 Ptus XII Review for Religious tiCes. Thus will you experience its effects more and find in that experience a further motive for being more faithful and devoted. We would have you guard yourselves against dis-couragement and meanness of soul. Undoubtedly you must give full cooperation to grace in warring, against your faults and in practicing virtue; but leave to God all care for your growth and increase. It is He who, at the right moment, "will perfect, strengthen, and establish you.''1~ With these dis-positions you can go forward, supported .by divine power and filled with abundant joy at having been chosen for this life. Your personal experiences will be enriched by observa-tions which you can make in your own community. If, in-stead" of dwelling on the inevitable faults and weakness of htlm~ln nature, you rather consider the sincere efforts of others t~° fulfill their religious ideal, you will easily come to realize tKe radiance of their interior life and of their union wi~h God. /~ikewise, in the small details of. community life you will admire their fraternal charity which flows directly from their love of Christ Whom they see in the members of His Mystical Body. The splendor of this charity, ~o often hidden during life, is o revealed sometimes brilliantly and suddenly--once death has affixed its mark; it is then that you will be able to sing with the Psalmist: "Surely, the just receives his reward.''17 Attitude Toward the Contemplative Life Now that We have considered the motive~ which impel you to love the contemplative life, We shall speak to you of the attitude which fidelity to this loves demands. Already in .the first part of this discourse, We have emphasized the im-portance of "interior contemplation" and the precedence which it takes Over other elements which are necessary as means to it:_the cloister; ex~ercises of piety, prayer, and mortification; and work. We will consider here how the contemplative nun should meet this ensemble of obligations. Jo I Pet 5:10. 17 Ps 57:12. 70 March, 1959 CLOISTERED CONTEMPLATIVES It is clear, in the first place, that a sincere devotion to the religious life excludes all legalism, that is, the temptation to be bound by the letter of the law without fully accepting its spirit, Such an attitude would be unworthy of those who bear the title of spouse of Christ and who wish to serve Him with a disinterested love. Scarcely more acceptable would be a type of eclecticism, an entirely subjectiv.e selection of certain obligations to which one submits while ignoring others. No right-thinking order would receive a candidate who would try to observe only a part of the rules a~d constitutions. The contemplative life is austere. Human sensibility does not submit to it without resistance, but the desire of giving oneself wholly to God willingly embraces works of Penance and cor~tinual self-renunciation. The contemplative nun, in-flamed with zeal for her vocation, can apply to herself t~ words which the Apostle of the Gentiles addressed .to _th.e Christian community: "For I betrothed you to one spouse, that I might present you a chaste virgin to Christ''is and--We~'can ~dd--"to Christ crucified." The nun who is faithful to he~ vocation will always take as the rule of her interior life Saint Paul's words: "What is lacking of the sufferings of Christ I fill up in my flesh for His body, which is the Church."0~ such is the law of true love and to it the famous remark of Saint Augustine gives testimony: "There is no suffering for one who loves; but for the one who does not love, every bit of suffer-ing is unbearable.''2~ ~. Work forms part of the contemplative life. The anciei'it monastic I£W, "pray and work," has not ceased to be Wise and necessary. Some work is required of human nature. Man has many spiritual and physical powers which he must use ~) provide, for his subsistence, to improve his living conditions, ~sII Cor 11:2. ~ Col 1:24. 2o In Ioannis evangelium tractatus, 48, 10, 1; Migne, PL, v. 35, col. 1741. 71 P~us XII Review for Religious and to increase his knowledge and skills. For thirty years our Lord led at Nazareth a life of labor; during His apostolic ministry He was likewise subject to .much physical fatigue. Saint Paul writes very incisively about this to the Thessalonians: "If any man will not work, neither let him eat. For we have heard that some among you are doing no work.''~ He adds that he himself works with his hands in order to make a living and to avoid.being a burden to his fellow Christians.22 This duty of contemplative nuns to work for their living is stressed several times by the apostolic constitution Sponsa Christi. From this it follows that whoever gives herself without reserve to the contemplative life, will also fully submit to this law of labor. Positive prescriptions of ecclesiastical law with regard to the canonical contemplative life are numerous. Even though some of them are of minor importance, all of them should be observed. Our Lord has clearly said that "whoever does away with one of these least commandments, and so teaches men, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever carries them out and teaches them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.'''-''~ "I have not come to destroy the law, but to fulfill it.'''-'4 Whoever loves the contemplative life will consider this delicacy of conscience and this fidelity to the least detail a most precious duty. On the other hand, one must avoid narrowness of both mind and heart. The liberty of the interior man is positively willed by God: "For you have been called to liberty; only do not use liberty as an occasion for sensuality.'''2~ "Therefore we remain free in virtue of the freedom wherewith Christ has made us free.'''6 The liberty of Christ, which the Apostle here extols, gives us power to accomplish works of the spirit as opposed to. works of the flesh. Such works, are charity, '-'~ II Thess 3:10-11. ¯ .'2 See Acts 20:34; 18:3. '2'~ Mt 5:19. 2-'4 Ibid., 5:17. '-'~ Gal 5:13. 26 Ibid., 5:1. 72 March, 1959 CLOISTERED CONTEMPLATIVES joy, peace, long life, the spirit of service~ generosity, faith in others, kindness, self-control--"Against such things there is no law.'''v Even before the time of Saint Paul, Christ had spoken of the meaning of Christian liberty in a still more emphatic way: "The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath.''-°8 Since our Lord did not hesitate to speak in this way, one can say in general that the law is for man, and not man for the law. This does not suppress one's obligation to observe the law, but it safeguards the freedom and the peace of the interior man. The extent of every law should be exactly understood, according as to whether it is divine or human, essential or accidental. To place the law above man as an absolute and not as a means whereby he attains his end is an error. Jesus had said of the Pharisees: "They bind together heavy and oppressive burdens and lay them on men's shoulders.'':9 We are convinced that a nun sincerely devoted to the contemplative life will "have no diffi-culty reconciling this delicacy of conscience in the observance of her rule and the performance of her duties with that peace which results from the tranquillity of liberty of the interior being. You will submit to the rules by observing them, but you will rise above them by living united to the Spirit of God and to His love. Characteristics of This Attitude We should like to add a word concerning the character-istics which ought to distinguish your interior attitude. "In a nun one expects to find first of all simplicity and humility; love f~r the contemplative life should exclude every desire of bein~ noticed, admired, or esteemed. In His Sermon on the Mount, our Lord severely reprimanded the Pharisees for their desire to be noticed by others.~° If you remain hidden, you will avoid psychological difficulties which are more "-'7 Ibid., 5:23. '-'s ME 2:28. '~-o': ~M Mt 6t :2 3:4. 1-6, 16-18. 73 PIUS XII Review for Religious frequent among women and more readily take hold of the feminine temperament. We have treated the contemplative life as an ascent to God in which you offer to Him your mind and your heart. This self-giving, inspired by supernatural motives, will l~e nourished by the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity, which alone support an authentic love of contemplation. These virtues will give your contemplation a genuinely Christian character so that it will not seem just a psychological phenom-enon which comparative religious history finds among the most diverse peoples and in every age. In order to confirm the purity and sincerity of your char-ity, it will suffice to remind you of the celebrated description which Saint Paul gives of this virtue in the thirteenth chapter ~ of his First Epistle to the Corinthians--a passage on which you have already meditated often. Would that your daily lives might always progressively approach more closely" the ideal set down in that justly famous chapter. Gendrous de~,otion can not accommodate itself to constant tension, to a continual battle against almost insupportable obli-gations which one would reject if possible. It is indeed possible for God to permit a trial of this sort for some time in order to purifythe soul. But it can also happen that such a state of .mind results in a serious fall, in internal or external catastrophe. We will not consider the cases involving nervous or psy- ~chotic factors. Here We are thinking of normal persons, of nuns to whom this has already happened or is likely to happen. There can be no question of entering into a study of diagnosis or of therapy or of prognosis for such case~. But We have just indicated a psy.chic factor, a characteristic trait of the fervent practice of perfection which is. capable of preventing such mishaps. It is the conscious and joyful acceptance~by a nun of the life of each day. It is the optimism, not at all frenzied, but tranquil and solid, of our Lord who said: "I am 74 March, 1959 CLOISTERED CONTEMPLATIVES not alone, but My Father is with Me.''31 It is the indestructible confidence of the contemplative in Him who said: "Come to Me all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will refresh you.''3'-' These considerations and these sentiments determine the interior attitude of the contemplative. She knows by experience what she ought to do; and she wishes to order her life according to the Words of the "Apostle who said: "God loves the joyful giver.''33 What "Saint Paul wrote to the Corinthians concerning the material goods de~tined for the poor of Jerusalem she understands in the much l~r~ger sense of the gift of all one's being and one's every exterior action. Joy and happiness are the traits characteristic of-a sincere gift of oneself. We are conscious of this in reading the First Epistle of Saint Peter. He presupposes and observes this joy and happiness among the Christians to whom he writes and who are already turned toward Christ: "Him, though you have not seen, you love. In Him, though you do not see Him, yet believing, you exult with a joy unspeakable and tri-umphant; receiving as the final issue of your faith, the salva-tion of your souls.''34 To each of you We say: Let the faith, hope, and charity of Christ give you something of that joy which Peter obserged among the Christians to whom he wrote. At the end~of his epistle he returns to the same theme, exhorting the Christians to think of earthly sadness as inseparable from life in this world and as a means of rea~ching eternal glory: "Cast all your anxiety upon Him; when you have suffered a little while, He will perfect, strength.en, and establish you.'''~'~ It is the very idea which Saint Augustine expresses toward the end of his City of God. This earthly life with all its bitterness will pass away; we will then go to God, and our joy in possessing Him ~ See Jn 16:32. 3'-' Mt 11:28. a~II Cor 9:7. ~"~I IPbeidt ,1, 5:8:7--91.0. ~5 P~us XII will not pass away. "Ibi vacabimus, et videbimus; videbimus et amabimus; amabimus et laudabimus. Ecce quod erit in fine sine fine''s° ["There we shall rest and we shall look; we shall look and we shall love; we shall love and we shall praise; behold what there shall be in the end and without end"]. Such should be the thoughts which sustain your life and give you the strength to live it with courage until the end without growing tired or discouraged, and thus to offer up to God a clean and perfect oblation. so De civitate Dei, 22, 30, 5; Migne, PL, ~ 41, col. 804. 76 Prac!:ice ot: :he I-Ioly See Joseph F. Gallea, S.J. CANON 509, § 1, obliges all superiors to inform their sub-jects of all decrees of the Holy S.ee concerning religious and to enforce such decrees. The activity and mind and will of the Holy See are also revealed, and sometimes in a more practical manner, by approved constitutions and com-munications addressed to individual religious institutes. An article drawn from these sources was published in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in 1953.1 This article is based on the same sources concerning lay institutes from January 1, 1954. The order of material followed in the article is the usual order of the chapters of constitutions of lay institutes. This is the first part of a series of three. 1. Nature, purpose, and spirit. (a) Petitioning pontifical status. It has been declared and explained many times in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS that it is the sense of canon law and the mind and will of the Holy See that a diocesan con-gregation should become pontifical; that a diocesan congrega-tion is onIy in an initial, temporary, and probationary state; and that the petitioning of pontifical approval should not be unduly delayed." The intrinsic reasons for seeking pontifical approval were also given,3 as also the necessary conditions and formali-ties. a In 1957 twenty-four congregations received the decree of praise from the Holy See, of which six were from the United States. Eighteen congregations were definitively ap-proved, but only two were from the United States.~ It was not a poor year, and we can hope that the accurate idea of pontifical approval is finally being grasped. The difficult birth of this idea is evident from a mere glance at some of the 1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 12-1953-252-72; 285-90. -'Ibid., 9-1950-57-68; 10.1951.22; 11-1952-13-14; 12-1953-253-54; 15-1956-326. ~ Ibld., 9-1950-68. albid., 11-1952-14; 12-1953-253-54. ¯~ L'Acdvit~ della Santa Sede nel 1957, 124-25. 77 JOSEPH f. GALLEN Review for Religious institutes approved in 1957. Without any research, I know that one of these came into existence only in 1929, another is over a century old, and a third is just under a century. A hun-dred years is a long time to be on probation, especially when it is completely voluntary. (b) The union of religious insti: tutes: In any part of the world, and also in the United States, it is possible to find religious institutes, especially of sisters, that have been in serious difficulties for many years, for exam-ple, they are small, receive few applications from candidates, are in financial difficulties, and lack a personnel sufficient in" number and competence to carry out properly the works of the institute. Not all of these reasons are found in every case, and they vary in degree; sometimes there are other reasons also. The well-being and at times the salvation of such an institute is to unite with another similar but flourishing institute. Such unions are occurring. A rescript effecting a union 6f this type gives the following information: Recourse mu~t be made to the Holy See .for a union, since it implies the extinc-tion of one religious institute (c. 493). The consent of both institutes is necessary, and the opinion of the interested local ordinaries is requested. The union effects the extinction of the first institute; and its members, houses, and property apper-tain to the second institute. Evidently these persons are hence-forth to be governed and the property administered according to the constitutions of the second institute. The intention of the donor in any property given or bequeathed to the first institute is respected, and the canons concerning the dowries must be observed. The members of the.'first institute pass to the second in the same class, if there are various classes, and with the same rights of profession that they had in their former institute. Each of these is to sign freely a document in which he declares that he wishes to be a member of the second institute. Any religious who refuses to become a mem-ber of the second institute is to request an indult of seculariza-tion or a transfer to another institute, according to the i~orms of canon law. All unions evidently demand a sufficiently pro- 78 March, 1959 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE longed period of careful and prudent preparation.° Unions are also occurring among flourishing institutes, for example, those that have the same origin, spirit, and constitutions. The Holy See has on several occasions manifested its desire of such a union to particular institutes.7 (c) Federation of nuns. A huge proportion of the monasteries of nuns in the world have been federated or are in the process of federation. There are two such federations in the United States. Authoritative sta-tistics, including 1957, list no other federations in the United States nor any in the state of preparation,s Their absence is very conspicuous. The preliminary approaches to a federation have been made in some cases, and one federation appears to be near completion. "It has been emphasized in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS that the Holy See favors federations.~ (d) Aux-iliaries. A .congregation of sisters, whose mother house is in Italy, has affiliated to itself a new and distinctive type of auxili-aries. These are secular women who are sincerely desirous of a state of perfection in thee spirit of this congregation but, for various reasons, are prevented from living its constitutions com-pletely and fulfilling all its obligations, especially those of com-mon life. The purpose of these auxiliaries is their own sanctifica-tion and collaboration with the sisters in the apostolate, especially in education, catechetics, and in works that the religious can-not personally acdomplish because of their state and life of withdrawal from the world. The auxiliaries are of two classes. 1° Auxiliary Oblates. These constitute a secular institute, and ¯ therefore they profess and consecrate themselves to complete Christian perfection in a determined regime of life. 2° Aggre. gated Auxiliaries. These form only a pio. us union or associa-tion, with more limited spiritual and apostolic duties and a less strict bond of union with the religious institute. All the aux-iliaries share in the prayers and good works of the congregation 0 Cf. A. Bocquet, L'Ann~ Canomque, 4-1956-9-20. S Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 38-1957-371-73; ct:. J. Fohl, L'Ann~e Canon-ique, 4-1956- I85-86. ~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS," 12-1953-288; 15-1956-326-27. 79 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Revie~v .for Religi~.~ of sisters. Neither class has a distinctive dress, but they simply adhere to the traditional norms of gravity and Christian mod-esty. 2. Members and .precedence. At least seven congrega-tions of sisters abolished the class of lay sister. The Sacred Congregation of Religious readily grants an indult permitting all the lay sisters of a congregation to pass into the one class of sisters prescribed by the revised constitutions, without the need of a new noviceship or pr',fession and with all rights, as if they had been admitted to this one cla~s from the beginning. This. change demands the correction of all articles of the con-stitutions that specify or imply a distinction of classes. Requests to the Holy See for slappression of the class of lay sisters from monasteries and orders of nuns receive varying replies accord-ing to the tradition of the order. One monastery of nuns began to take extern sisters. Two sets of constitutions recently approved contain the statement that all the sisters are to assist in the common household duties. 3. The religious habit. A few congregations of sisters simplified their religious habit. This is praiseworthy, but al-most none of the changes were as complete.as they evidently should have been, and no change is in any danger of being termed radical. One set of constitutions states that, when the white habit is worn in hot countries, a cloth cincture may be substituted for the usual black leather cincture. Complaints have been m~lde about the use of a leather cincture dlaring the summer. In any thorough study of adaptation and simplifica~ tion, the color of the habit "should not be ignored. Is a black habit adapted to the' summer heat of the United States? It is amusing to reflect that a white habit is common in Oriental countries, yet both Orientals and Americans who have been in the Orient attest that our summer heat is more oppressive. Another set of constitutions declares that white shoes may be worn with the white habit. This right follows as a complement of the white habit, unless it is expressly forbidden by the con- 8O PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE stituiions. Some authors on renovation and adaptation have emphasized that excessive external distinctions should be re-moved from the class of lay brothers and lay sisters. One of these seems to be the white veil that is worn by professed lay sisters in at least very many monasteries of nuns. One purely contemplative monastery received permission to change this white veil to a black veil. A few superioresses of nuns are anything but hostile to reasonable adaptation. Several constitutions continue to specify a choir mantle of serge. Why this purely ceremonial garb should be of heavy material is incomprehensible to me. Formerly constitutions commonly forbade any change in the habit without the permission of the Holy See. In some later constitutions, this p.ermission was confined to a change in the form or color.'" Two sets of constitutions recently ap-proved state: "No general or permanent change in the form or color of the habit may be made without the permission of the Holy See." "No permanent, substantial, or general changes may be made in the habit without the permission of the Holy See." I believe we may hold that the permission of the Holy See is required only for a substantial change in the external appearance of the habit. Any change that does not modify this external appearance at all, as is true at least most frequently in a mere change of material, or that only accidentally modifies the external appearance may be made by the superior general with at least the advice of his council. 4. The dowry. One congregation received permission to borrow $100,000 from the dowry fund. As is true of any other debt, this amount is to be repaid within a reasonable time (c. 536, § 5). Canon 549 forbids any institute whatever, without a dispensation from the Holy See, to spend the capi-tal of even part of one dowry for any purpose whatsoever, even for the erection of a building, or the payment of a debt, before the death of the religious. Reasons such as those just cited Ibid., 12-1953-257. 81 JOSEPH Fi GALLEN. Review .for Religiow~ jtistify.,:g~ petition to .the Holy See to' use the 'capital sum of the dowries, This ~capital sum must be restored to any religious #ho definitively leaves her institute (c. 551, ~ 1).~ The practice of~ the Holy See has been to impose the obligation of restoring the amount expended; but one institute informs me that it has been granted a wider indult, that is, to use dowry funds throughout the institute for building purposes provided the provinces have sufficient funds at their disposal to return the dowries of. religious who might leave. 5. "The postulancy. The duration of the postulancy has assumed greater moment in recent years because of the educa- " tional pr.ogram for the young religious. The general desire ¯ in the United" State~is for a postulancy that will not preclude a full scholastic year. Provision has been made for this in two sets of constitutions recently approved by the Holy See: "Can-didates "before being admitted to the noviceship shall make a postulancy of not less than six complete months and not more than a year." "The time prescribed for the postulancy is one full year. The aspirant is admitted by the provincial sui~erior who may, for a just reason, prolong the prescribed time, but not beyond six months. For a grave reason, the superior gen-eral ma~), with the consefit of her" council, abbreviate the pre-~ Scribe'd time of postulancy, but nok beyond six months." Canon 539," § '1 c'o'ifimands a postulancy of .at least six months; and I see no reason why an abbreviation of a postulancy of a year requires a greater reason than its prolongation beyond a year. I~ prefer the latter article but believe that it should have read ~is follows: The time prescribed for the postulancy is a £ull. year. For a just reason, the superior general (or the higher superior), with the advice of his council, may abbrevi-ate or prolong this time, but not beyond~six months in either case. " ¯ 6. The noviceship. (a) Canonical impediments. Dispen-sations were granted to two married women to enter a mon- Ibid., 16-1957,164. 82 March, 1959 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE astery of nuns,. Both were converts and both had been di-vorced. I have a typed copy of the rescript of only one of these cases. This prescribes a longer postulancy, that is, of a year and with the usual right of prolonging it for another .six months. (b) Manner of beginning. In the former practice, of the Holy See, the constitutions were usually ~worded: "The canonical year begins with the reception of the habit." The word-ing was later changed-to: "The canonical year ordinarily begins with the reception of the habit." Constitutions-~ipproved within the last few years are. more commonly phrased: ,"The canonical year begins with the reception of the habit or in.any other manner determined by the superior general,, pro;tided in the latter :case that its inception is recorded in writing.'~ I see, no reason whW the different determination could not have been granted also to other higher superi6rs, for example, provincials. The superior general may certainly habitually delegate the faculty of making a different determination to these other higher superiors or even to other religious, for example, to the local superior of the novitiate house. The" new wording simply gives a superior greater facili,ty in permitting the be-ginning of a one-year noviceship on the day before the cere. mony of the. reception of the habit and also, irrespective of the duration of the noviceship, in permitting the beginning of the noviceship on the same day as the other members of a group to a postulant .who cannot attend the ceremony, for example, because of sickness. This entire matter was explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 15-1956-222-24. (c) Duration. At least one congregation of sisters changed its noviceship of one year to two years. Of greater interest is the'fact that a purely contemplative monastery of nuns and a proposed .f.ederation of nuns have dbne the same thing. The historical reason for the longer noviceship of two years is that religious who have an active end were believed to require a longer and more solid spiritual formation. However, it can be maintained that a contemplative vocation is more difficult to discern; and it" can certainly be doubted that it requires a less prolonged or less ,83 JOSEPH ~. GALLEN Review for Religious skilled formation. (d) Dispensations from the second year. Rescripts from the Sacred Congregation of Religious dispens-ing from any part of the "second year contain the following conditions: "That the novices make a written request for the abbreviation of their noviceship, that these written requests 'and the rescript be .preserved in the files, and that mention 0f the requests, and of the rescript be made in the register of professions." (e) Separation of novices from the professed. Canon 564, § 1 commands that the novices are as far as possible to dwell in a part of the house distinct from the quarters of the professed. The same canon enacts that there is to be no communication between the professed and the-novices without a special reason and the permission of either the local or higher superior or the master of novices. This strict prohibition is to be observed also when there are but very few novices. It is to be remembered that those who have taken temporary vows are professed, not novices. They must therefore be separated from the novices in place and in communication. This applies "also to the monasteries of nuns. This canon is inserted in the constitutions of nuns by the Holy See, and khe quinquennial report (q. 87) for independent monasteries explic-itly asks whether the separation both in place and commun~- cation' is observed."-' One pu_rely contemplative monastery of nuns received an indult in 1955 permitting the professed oi: temporary vows to remain in the novitiate for further training under the mistress of novices. A proposed federation of nuns has included the same prescription in its constitutions. (f) Physical exercise. The constitutions of a congregation of sisters approved in 1954 contain the prudent provision that the nov-ices ought also to take physical exercise so that the recreation will benefit both body and mind. (g) Profession in danger of death. Admission to this profession has been reserved in the past to higher superiors, the superior of the novitiate house, and their delegates. Two sets of constitutions, approved in 12ibid., 11-1952-157-58. 84 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE 1955 and 1956, introduce a welcome change by assigning the admission to, "the mistress of novices, any other superior, and their delegates." Since the mistress of novices is not a superior in the proper sense of the word, it would have been better to have phrased the article, any superior, the mistress of novices, and their delegates. The master or mistress of novices is the one most likely to b~ present in such circumstances, and a second-year novice may be outside the novitiate hou.se. If the constitutions contain the former wording, higher superiors may and should delegate their faculty habitually to all other superiors and to the master or mistress of novices. (h) Vacation outside the novitiate house. Two congregations received indults per-mitting the novices to spend about fifteen days a year in a country house of the congregation under the direction of the master of novices. (The rest of this article will appear in the May and July issues.) 85 Less Me Conan McCreary, O.l=.M.Cap. WeE ARE almost'always talking to somebody. Often dur-ing the day we speak to our neighbors, and in prayer we talk to God. However, most frequently we are conversing with ourselves. Our ideas come to our conscious-ness through words formed in our minds, and these words make up a more or less constant interior conversation with ourselves. This interior monologue is quite natural, and it serves many good purposes. It helps us to think more clearly and con-cretely. It helps us also to provide for the next moment. "Let's see, what shall I do next?" we ask ourselves. Then we await our own reply, "I think that I'll clean off my desk." There is more to this interior conversation than at first appears. It can be an indication of our spiritual worth. When most of our monologue is spent on our own interests, we tend to become self-centered. When it is turned more to God and Christ and His interests, we tend to become theocentric or Christocentric. One great secret of the interior life is to turn our interior conversation away from ourselves and to turn it to God. "How can we pray to Him Unless we are with Him? How can we be with Him unless we are often thinking of Him?" Brother Lawrence of tl~e Resurrection, o.C.D., asks so log-ically. 1 St. John the Baptist's words, "He must increase, but I must decrease" (Jn 3:30), can hardly be. more aptly applied than to our interior conversation. How many times do not our rules or constitutions or by-laws exhort us to recollection. Yet, how often do we not have reason for embarrassment in the face of our feeble interior prayer. While urged to "direct every thought to God alone 1Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, The Practice o! the Presence of God (London: Burns, Oates and Washbourne, Ltd., 1926), p. 38. 86 with every possible yearning of love,'"-' we find ourselves not just a little short of the ideal. The saints and the proficient in the spiritual life find their interior conversation with God one of their greatest joys. For them, ordinarily, no system is necessary. Recollection is simply the response to the presence of their beloved. Thomas of Celano wrote of St. Francis: " . . . he would often speak with his Lord in words. There [in solitary places] he would make' answer to his Judge, there entreat his Father, there rejoice with the Bridegroom, And in order that he might make the whole marrow of his being a whole-burnt offering in manifold w~Lys, he would set before his eyes in. manifold ways Him who is supremely simple. Often with lips unmoved he would ruminate within, and, drawing outward things inward, would uplift his spirit on high. And so the whole man, no( so much praying, as having become a living prayer, concentrated his whole atten-tion and affection on the one thing which he was seeking from the Lord.''3 For ~he less proficient in the spiritual life, recollection, though an undeniable joy, is often a burden. Not as spontaneous . as the saints, we find ourselves at a loss for words before God, not from awe, but from lack of something to say that is worth-while and attractive. If the saints run in the path of prayer, perhaps we can describe our way of interior prayer as a limping. We try to get aiong; we try to speak more with Godl but how far we are from being the athletes of the spiritual life that St. Paul would haste us be! If we have not yet been healed of our spiritual lameness by the name of Jesus (Acts 3:6), then it would not be out of place for us to use a cane to help us walk interiorly with God. Using a cane is much better than sitting still. Of course, a "-' Constitutions o/ the Capucbitt Friars Minor o/ Saint FrancD (Detroit: 1945J, art. 90. 3 Brother Thomas of Celano, The Li',,,'s of S. Fram'i.r o/ .4ssisi London: Methuen and Co., 1908), pp. 233-234. 87 CONAN MCCREARY Review for Religious cane is only a 'substitute for a better thing. When the better thing comes (that is, the spontaneous conversation with God in love) it is time to lay aside the substitute. Taking our cue from the Precursor, wh~ wanted Christ to grow greater and himself to become less, we might use the mnemonic line LESS ME as a cane, a means of giving us something to say to God in recollection. Each letter stands for~ a topic of conversation. The topics are merely suggested in the scope of this article. Not much imagination is required to expand each point according to personal tastes or needs. L stands for Lady, our Blessed Mother. It is always fitting to begin our recollection with her; we can either speak to her personally, or we can speak to our Lord about her. E stands for Eucharist. This may remind us of our reception of Holy Communion in the morning, and we can renew our affections; or, we may use it as an occasion of making a spiritual communion. S stands for Spirit, the Holy Spirit who dwells as guest in the center of our hearts: the very love of the Father and Son! S stands for secret. This can mean our little secret of reaching out to God often during the day, our favorite ejaculation as, "All for You, Jesus!" It can also mean our nosegay for this day. M stands for meditation; we have here an opportunity to renew the affections and resolutions of our morning meditation. E stands for examen, that is, the subject of our par-ticular examen with all its difficulties, which we can talk over with our divine model. This system, while it embraces many of the major s[tb-jects that spiritual writers recommend for recollection, is cer-tainly not everything. But it is something. It is a definite step 88 March, 1959 LESS ME toward turning our interior conversation to God. It is a help for us to make our exteriorly silent moments interiorly joyful and fruitful. The objective of a system of recollection is to dispose ourselves for two of God's most precious gifts: the consciousness of His presence and the spirit of prayer. When St. Paul exhorted the Ephesians to be interior men, he gave them a promise of great things: He told them that they would come "to know Christ's love which° surpasses knowledge" and that they would be filled with the fullness of God (Eph 3:19). As Christ continues to increas~ in us and in our interior con-versation, we will come to know more and more what St. Paul meant. SOME BOOKS RECEIVED [Only books sent directly to the Book Review Editor, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] The Graces of Christmas. By Bernard Wuellner, S.J. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. $3.00. What Is a Saint? By" Jacques Douillet. Translated by Donald Attwater. Hawthorn Books, 70 Fifth Avenue, New York 11, New York. $2.95. Who Is the Devil? By Nicholas Corte. Translated by D. K. Pryce. Hawthorne Books, 70 Fifth Avenue, New York 11, New York. $2.95. Anne de Xainctonge: Her Life and Spirituality. By Sister Mary Thomas Breslin, U.T.S.V. The Society of St. Ursula of the Blessed Virgin, ~Marygrove, Kingston, New York. The Eucharist and Christian Life. Second Series. By Aloysius J. Willinger, C.SS.R., D.D. Academy Library Guild, P.O. Box 549, Fresno, California. $2.00 (paper cover). 89 ,Joseph !:he In :erior Life Sister Emily Joseph, C.S.J. TO ACHIEVE the perfection of his being, a man must cultivate the interior life with an attentiveness which not only equals but surpasses, that spent on his external activi-ties. One of the major causes of the restless, disturbed, frus-trated personalities in society today is the neglect of this interior life. At times we are tempted to look upon this as an ill peculiar to our present age; but a glance at the Old Testament shows that the same indifference to the life of the spirit pre-vailed long ago. "With desolation is all the land made desolate," laments Jeremias, "because there is none that considereth in the heart" (Jer. 12:11). And in figurative language he refers to these depthless creatures as "broken cisterns, that can hold no water" (Jet. 2:13). Throughout Holy Scripture the secret of the spiritual life is enunciated again, and again: "The kingdom of God is within you" (Luke 17:21); "All the glory of the king's daughter is within" (Ps. 44:14); and it is finally spelled out by the elo-quent St. Paul, who poses a question that contains the great soul-shaking reality of life: "Know you not that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?" (I Cor. 3:16). Awareness of the presence of this divine Guest within the soul constitutes a sine Cilia non for the development of the interior life. Anyone who has read the Gospels, or even lis-tened to the reading of them at Sunday Mass, has heard the fact as St. John presents it in Christ's own word~. "If anyone love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and will make our abode with him" (John 14:23). perhaps it is the profound mystery concealed behind these simple words which overwhelms the ordinary intelligence, with the result that an impact of grace almost as 90 ST. JOSEPH forceful as that which swept Saul from his horse on the road to Damascus is required before one comes to grips with the fact of the indwelling of the Trinity in the soul which is in the state of grace. Granted this impact of grace and the resulting awareness, three aspects of the cultivation of the interior spirit present themselves: (1) Who is this divine Guest? (2) What inter-feres with my attention to Him? (3) What contributes to my intimacy with Him? We read in the Divine Comedy that Dante, embarking upon his unfamiliar journey, felt the need of an experienced guide and selected for this purpose one whom h~ was proud to call his master--the poet, Vergil. Following his example, we would be wise to search out an experienced master of the interior. life and learn froin him the answers to the three questions mentioned above. The names of many may come to mind, but surely there is one saint whose unique prerogatives stamp him as being pre-eminently suited to instruct and guide others in the way of interior growth. This is St. Joseph who, as Leo XIII said, is next in dignity to the Mother of God. (ParentheticaJly', it might be asked why" St. Joseph would be chosen in preference to our Blessed Lady as a guide in the development of the interior life. The answer to that question will be given later in this. paper.) The three Persons of the adorable Trinity dwell within every sou! living in grace. To each of these Persons the soul bears a special relationship which is indicated by the names which man has been inspired to confer upon Them. Man is the child of God, so he calls God ~Father." Through the mystery of the Incarnation and l~edemption, man can claim as his elder brother God the Son. And as man depends for his physical existence upon the breath of life, so he lives his super-natural life by the power of the Holy Spirit. The interior life of St. Joseph rested upon his unique relationship with each of the three Persons of the Blessed 91 SISTER EMILY JOSEPH Review for Religiot~s Trinity. In Father Faber's phrase, he was the "shadow of the Eternal Father." He was in men's eyes the legal father of Mary's child, Christ the Son of God. And he was the divinely selected spouse of the virgin who had conceived by the over-shadowing of the Holy Spirit. St. Joseph was too humble to be overwhelmed by the dignity thus conferred upon him. Like Mary, he pondered these mysteries deep in his heart. Small wonder that no recorded word of his has come down to us! How could the feeble tongue of man give utterance to the thoughts, too deep for words, which God's mysterious choice of him evoked? Here ii the first lesson St. Joseph would teach us, namely, not to make public the spiritual favors which God deigns to confer upon the soul, but rather, as the Imitation of Christ says, "to keep secret the grace of devotion." Each soul is uniquely loved by the Holy Trinity. For each soul God has a specially designed pattern of sanctity which will necessitate His conferring unique graces which can be neither shared nor understood by others. "The kingdom of God is within you." To the extent that one concentrates upon this interior kingdom, the external' world diminishes in importance. One gains spiritua{ perspective, the material becomes subject to the spiritual, and peace, the tranquility of order, ensues. In his first Epistle, St. John utters the uncompromising advice: "Love not the world, nor the things which are in the world . For all that is in the world is the concupiscence of the flesh, and the concupiscence of the eyes, and the pride of life" (I John 2:15-16). Herein lies the answer to the second question regarding the divine Guest of our souls, namely, What interferes with my attention to Him? Only mortal sin will drive away the indwelling Trinity and destroy the supernatural life. But the interior spirit can be reduced to what might be called a comatose state if its strength is sapped by the distractions of the world. One who embraces the religious life enjoys a comparative security against the allurements of the threefold 92 March, 1959 ST. JOSEPH concupiscence St. John mentions. Against distractions, how-ever, no one has yet found air-tight protection. And distiac-tions are the bane of the interior spirit. In general, distractions can be reduced to five categories. First, there are those which arise from the responsibilities and occupations of one's state in life. They may range from the problems faced by the community laundress or cook to thos~ of the college president or superior general of a large congregation. They concern matters Which the faithful ~s~rvant of his Lord must handle prudently and efficiently for the'good of souls and the harmonious functioning of community life. They may involve irritating, even exasperating, negotiations with unreason-able associates, either within or outside the "framework of religious life. "Here," one might be tempted to say, "St. Joseph has had no experience!" Such is far from the case. St. Joseph was' in business. He" had to earn a living and.support a family. Into his carpenter shop came customers of every type: those who challenged the price he set for a piece of furniture that had required expensive materials; those who came on one day with.one set .of directions for their new barn and the next day appeared with an entirely different plan. . Nazareth had its share of complainers, of inconsiderate and selfish add annoying townspeople. The .incidents which crowded into St. Joseph's day might be paralleled in the daily routine of many a religious. Amid them all he remained unperturbed. In each of his customers he saw a child of the 'Eternal Father, a brother of his foster Son, an actual or potential temple of the Holy Spirit: Thus he warded off the distracting irritations which cropped up like weeds in the course of his .business Iife. Many in religious iife are spared the anxiety of financial ~problems, but to many others they are a rich source of plaguing distractions. Those who are faced with responsibilities of this kind usually hold a position as head of a community. They should, then, turn confidently to St. Joseph, head of the Holy 93 SISTE~ EI~IILY JOSEPH Review for Religious Family, for advice as to how they can prevent this kind of distraction from interfering with the interior, spirit. "Discuss the problem with the Holy Trinity, as I always discussed such problems with my foster Son," St. Joseph says. "These prob-lems cannot~ be ignored; but they must not be allowed to assume an exaggerated importance. Keep first things first. Increase you~r love of the spirit of poverty, so dear to the divine Child who chose the chill cave of Bethlehem for His birth-place and a stranger's tomb for His burial. You must develop, too, unlimited trust in God's bounty and providence. Remem-ber the incident of the Kings' arrival in Bethlehem? ,The valuable treasures which they presented were entirely unex-pecte. d and provided for the traveling expenses for us dur!ng those days of flight into Egypt when I had no source of in-come, In all times of distress" learn to say: 'God can pro-vide; God did provide; 'God will provide!' " A third,, and fertile, source of distractions is what men in the world call ."politics." Within community life one is less often distracted by the political problems, of the world. The religious seem-to apply spiritual principles to this depart-ment of life with considerable facility. It is the question, "To whom will God.grant authority in this house where I must live n,e.xt year and how will he exercise that authority?" that yields a rich crop of distractions. Idle speculation upon the superiors to be appointed within the community, needless com-mentary (often uncharitable) about the policies and directives of superiors, resentful acceptance oi: the superior's decision --all this has the soporific effect of a powerful drug upon the interior life. The gospel presents an inspiring example oi: how St. Joseph would direct us to act in the face of an unwelcome, not to say unreasonable, order given by an unattractive superior.~ Picture the scene on a street corner in Nazareth when the proclamation of the proud Roman ruler, Caesar Augustus, was posted. The decree stipulated that every Jewi.sh citizen must go to 94 March, 1959 ST. JOSEPH the city. of his fathers and there be enrolled. Fiery resentment ran through the crowd as they read the. unexpected order. Impatient, critical remarks and sneers passed from one a.ngry Jew to the other. One in the.crowd, however,, re.ad the decree sil.ently, humbly.- ~For Joseph, it was an expression of God's will, made known to him through His legitimate representative. Granted, it would entail inconvenience and hardship for him-self and especi.ally for Maiy. Still, it was God's will and .with-out question, he set about complying with the order. From long practice, phrase ~after phrase from a .familiar psalm sprang to. his !ips: ".Behold I have longed after thy precepts; quicken me in justice . I am ready, and am not troubled: that I may l~eep thy commandments . Thy word is a lamp to my. feet, and a light to my paths. ~ I will rejoice at, thy.wqrd.s, as one that hath found great spoil" (Ps. 118: 40, 60, 105, 162). Could one seek a more excellent .guide for overcoming the obstacles to growth of the irlterior,spirit? The.distracti°ns just mentioned may well be avoided by the truly fervent, religious who ha~ gained ~a ~d.egree of mastery of th~ spirit of[ humble obedience. Yet he ~ay be less facile in avoiding distractions which arise from the lot common to the fallen sons of Adam, namely, sickness, trials, misfortunes, whether personal or pertaining to his dear one~: To love is to wish for the well-being of the beloved. How can one be otherwise than distracted when confronted with a serious situa-tion, say within one's family, which portends unhappiness, physical suffering, or spiritual danger from one bound by the closest of human ties? The answer is given by the very word "distraction" which comes from a Latin word that means "to draw in a different direction."" One who is intent upon the development of the interior life directs all his thoughts, all his desires, all his concerns ~and anxieties to the attention of the divine Guest dwelling within his s0ul. "My thbughts are not your tho[lghts, nor your way my ways," says the Lord (Isa. 55:8). The truly interior man strives ever more and 95 SISTER EMILY JOSEPIt Review .fo~" Religious more earnestly to think with the mind of Christ, to see God's hand in afflictions as well as in blessings, to recognize in the cross the sign of God's ineffable love. St. Paul makes explicit ¯ reference to this when he writes to the Corinthians: "In all things we suffer tribulation, but are not distressed: we are .strakened, but are not destitute; we suffer, persecution, but are "n.ot fc~rsaken;., though our outward man is corrupted, yet .the inward man is renewed day by day.~.~., . Winlie" we logk not ~at the things which are sden, but,:::a°~:."the¯ thir~gs ~vhich. ard not" seen. For.the things which are.%e~n, are temporai(¯:bfii~ the tl~ing~ which are not seen, are "etet~nal." ([I Cot. 4~'8ii1.'8) From the many trials which St:7!.-j:~seph experienced, may be selected, and studied with a"--.'~.k;ii~:w to seeing how a man . of truly interior spirit reacts to aglfi:~i0ns. Consider the loss of the .bo~, Christ on the trip to~::~erusalem. Imagine the parents' and anxiety when the' : ; ! covered absence. The anguish of St. Joseph may even"~.~Pe surpassed that of our LAdy since as head o~ the famii~.(~'~!:was regl~onsible for ~heChild." We do not read of.:hh~::~:b'fiiplaining, self-reproach, ¯or,a~omztng expressmns of ~rmf-:~'J'n~:almost every scerfe where .~. ¯ We meet him in the gospel;, St.' ~h~i3h shows himself a man -"~ " "bf a&ion. As soon as the Bo~,'s absence was diSco~;ered, he .~ ' '.bdgaff a vigorous search for Him. "Thy Father ~hd I," Mary ' . as to te!l her Son when¯ He was found, ~'have .sought thee ¯ ¯ .sorrowing (Luke 2:48). Within those distressing days and nights of searching, St. Joseph experienced all the desolation, : .the 'fearsome pain of loss endured b~ souls deprived of God's ":'.:.~ensible presence. Here was the crucial test of :his spirit of .,.7 ?:"iinterior prayer. May it not be, since .experience proves that ".:::.-;[:prayer is almost utterly":impossible in such affliction, that one i'].:~:.::.::[ i:.:!tingle phrase from a Messianic psalm constituted his three-'.,:prayer? ."My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (Ps. 21:2): .just asno one is immune from trials and thd distractions they beget, so~ no one c/in live in this world without sociM con- 96 March, 1959 ST. JOSEPH tacts. Man is constituted by nature a social being. Grace perfects nature. One must attain sanctity as a member of the Mystical Body. This is the whole tenor of the teaching of Christ, the import of His sacramental system, the design He instituted for His Church. Yet, paradoxically, social contacts are a prolific source of distractions for one who strives to live an interior life. In fact, all four categories 9~f distractions men-tioned above could be telescoped into this one. Every joy, every sorrow, every dFsire, every undertaking of the day elicits reactions from or is directed toward someone with whom we are associated. Holy can we possibly devote ourselves to the interests of. the other members of the Mystical Body and yet prevent them from inaking intrusions upon our interior.,iife? St. Joseph.directs us again, and his direction is that ofl 'a devoted Hebre~i~'ivho had penetrated deeply into the manner of serving God."." From the first pages of the book' of Genesis, man had worshipedGod by sacrifice. According to the pre-cepts of the Jewish law, Joseph offered the regularly prescribed ~ sacrifices. But more than that: upon the altar of his own :~ heart he offered constantly the joys, disappointments, toils, ¯ fears, and vexations that resulted from his social contacts. Joseph did not live in silent isolation. He lived close to Jesus and Mary; close, also,-to the townsmen of Nazareth, the strangers of Egypt; and too close, for comfort, to Herod! The man of interior spirit comes to the hour of sacrifice we~iring a "coat of many colors," woven of the threads of his daily social contacts. This garment clings to him closely, seems, in fact, to be part of him, and is part of the sacrifice of his entire self which the loving servant of God makes to his Lord and King. But, because in God's mercy he lives in the New Dispensation, he may unite his daily~ hourly sacrifice to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass which is offered "from the riging of the sun to the going down" (Mal. 1:11). And even as, by the myst~ery o. transubstantiation, the bread and wine are changed int6 the Body and Blood of Christ, so the insignificant offering 97 SISTER EMILY JOSEPH Review for Religious of a tear, a smile, a headache or a heartache will be transformed and absorbed into the "clean oblation" so acceptable to the Lord. To grow in the interior life is to increase one's intimacy with the indwelling Trinity. There are certain positive meas-ures one can take, as is evident from the life of S~. Joseph, in order to secure this increased intimacy. Although they must bE mentioned successiv.ely, it is difficult to assign them an order bf importance. First there comes to mind, naturally, the silence of St. Joseph--not the silence of a taciturn man, but the reverent silence that accompanies worship. Noise, bustle, feverish confusion create an atmosphere inimical to the interior spirit. The mere absence of these elements, however, may denote nothing more stimulating than the stillness of a corpse. The silence, conducive to interior' growth must be. a vital, dy-namic force such as the silence which accompanies the falling of the dew, the germination of seeds, :the ripening of. ~vheat. "I will lead her into the wilderness: and I. will speak to her heart" (Osee 2:14). In hushed tones the divine Guest speaks of His love. In cool, tranquil silence He will be heard. Closely allied to this need for silence is the need for detachment. A poet of our own day, T. S. Eliot, has phrased it for us: Teach me to care and not to care; Teach me to sit still. This seems to have been St. Joseph's motto. For instance, w. hen the angel instructed him to return home from Egypt; the directions were vague, incomplete. Joseph pondered: Should he return to Bethlehem or Nazareth? His heart was unattached, he did not care; yet he did care: Would Bethlehem, now under the rule of Archelaus, be as safe for the divine Child and His Mother as was Nazareth? Prudence rather than the attractions of the place determined Joseph's choice of Nazareth. Again, ¯ when he first learned that Mary was to bear a child and the angel had not yet revealed to him the mystery of the Incarna- 98 March, 1959 ~ST. JOSEPH tion of the Word, Joseph showed that not even his beloved spouse was so dear to him that he would compromise his conscience. Only to God and to His law did he cling with resolute attachment. Several times in speaking of St. Joseph's conduct it has been intimated that there freqfiently welled up within his heart a phrase or passage from the familiar psalms of his royal ancestor, David. Like every other devout Jew, Joseph had learned these psalms as a young boy and recited them often at the prescribed hours of prayer. It is not surprising, then, that in times of trial, amid frivolous or .irritating ~ompany in his shop, or in the quiet, reposeful evenings at the little home in Nazareth the inspired words would be in his heart and on his lips as he turned his thoughts to the God he loved and with whom he wished to converse. For the interior man no prac-tice could yield richer rewards than the cultivation of similar familiarity with the virile, expressive prayers which the Church has wisely and artistically incorporated into the Divine Liturgy. The practice of ejaculatory prayer is close to this; but why settle for something less than the best? The psalms bear the infallible stamp of approval of Holy Mother Church who declares .them divinely inspired ~by the Holy Spirit. And now it is time to answer the question posed earlier in this paper. Why should St. Joseph be chosen in prefer-ence to our Blessed Lady as a guide in the development of the interior life? Simply because St. Joseph had something that our Lady never had and he can therefore teach it to us, namely, devotion to her! St. Joseph learned ~o love God more by watching Mary love Him. He learned to spe~k to God more effectively by joining his voice with hers. He offered a nobler service to God through serving her. Mary is more than a guide along the way to sanctity. She is the mediatrix of all graces. Joseph is an experienced, inval-uable guide, a master par excellence of the spiritual life; but one can achieve intimacy with the Holy Trinity without his 99 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious guidance. But Mary is indispensable since in the divine econ-omy (as most theologians hold) all graces flow to us through her. Hence, devotion to our Lady, Temple of the Blessed Trinity, holds a prominent place in the life of one who would grow in the interior spirit; and none can be found to surpass St. Joseph in de~otion to his beloved spouse, Mary the Mother of God. Survey Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S.J. THE FOLLOWING ARTICLE will survey the contents of Acta Apostlicae Sedis during the months of .October and November, 1958. Throughout the article all page references will be to the 1958 AAS (v. 50). Pius XII In the first two issues of AAS which appeared after the election and coronation of Pope John XXIII, the text of the speeches and addresses given by Plus XII in the last weeks of his life were published. On September 28, 1958 (AAS, pp. 745-48), Pius XII broadcast a message to the people of Ecuador on the occasion of the third National Eucharistic Congress of that country. He told the Ecuadorians that Christian life is innocence and openness in children; purity and moraliW in adolescents; integrity and fidelity in matrimony; unity and mutual help in the family; brotherliness and mutual respect among all human persons; justice, charity, and peace in social 'relations. But all of this, he pointed out, is impossible. without the strength that comes only from the Eucharist. In another radio message on September 17, 1958 (AAS, pp. 741-45), Pius XII spoke to the International Marian Congress held at Lourdes. He told the members of the Congress that in this critical hour Mary wishes to teach her children the true sense of human life by showing its relation to that other life which alone will give men true and perfect happiness. At Lourdes, he concluded, a window has been opened on heaven; and he begged his listeners 100 March, 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS to pray earnestly that hatred and discord may end, that the insolent voices of lust and pride may be stilled, and that the peace of Christ which surpasses all understanding may dawn upon the world. On August 29, 1958 (AAS, pp. 674-79), Pius XII delivered an allocution to the International Congress of the Third Order of St. Dominic, telling the tertiaries that they should be marked by the possession of St. Dominic's characteristic ardor for the defense of the Catholic faith; for the Church expects from them a collabora-tion as efficacious as was that of the saint at the time of the Catharist and Waldensian heresies. He exhorted them to a life of prayer, noting that though they could not give long hours to contemplation, still they could cultivate a permanent attention to the things of God by a devout study of Scripture, the liturgy, and patristic writings. Likewise he urged on them the necessity of an unceasing battle against everything that could be an obstacle to their full growth in the life of Christ within them. Finally, he encouraged them to participate in Catholic Action, pointing out the especial need for lay workers in Asia, Africa, and Latin America. The Pope con-cluded his allocution by suggesting to his listeners to keep before their minds the example of their patroness, St. Catherine of Siena. On September 14, 1958 (AAS, pp. 696-700), Pius XII addressed members of the International Office of Catholic Education. He warned them that for a school to be Christian it is not sufficient that it provide a course in religion or that it impose certain prac-tices of piety; in additon it is necessary that truly Christian' teachers communicate to their students the riches of a profoundly spiritual life. Hence, he added, the exterior organization of the school, its discipline and its program, must be adapted to the school's essential function of communicating an authentic spiritual sense. The students, he continued, should be" taught to unite them-selves to the life of the Church by participating in the liturgy and the sacraments; they should be initiated into works of the apostolate; and the horizons of the Church's missionary work should be opened to them. Moreover, they should be taught never to conceive their future careers .merely as social functions with no relation to their status as baptized Christians. Rather they should be trained to regard their future work as an exercise of their responsibility in the work of the salvation of the world, convinced that by seriously engaging themselves as Christians on the temporal level, they at 101 R. F. SMITH Review for Religion,s the same time realize their highest spiritual destiny. After express-ing his regret that Catholic schools do not always receive due support from public authority, the Vicar of Christ concluded by saying that the work of every Christian teacher is to announce the Savior to those who are ignorant of Him and to perfect those who already know Him. On September 9, 1958 (AAS, pp. 687-96), Plus XII addressed the members oi~ the International College of Psychopharmacology. In the principal part of his address the Holy Father considered the morality of using such drugs as chloropromazine and reserpine. Morality, he said, demaads first of all that there be the deepest respect and consideration for the human person, since a human being is the noblest of all visible creatures, made to the image of God by ci:eation and through redemption inserted into the Mystical Body of Christ. Even when afflicted by the severest of mental maladies, he added, the human person remains superior to all brute animals, for he continues to be a being destined one day to enjoy the immediate possession of God. The Pope then went on to summarize for his audience the moral teaching he had given in the allocutions of February 24, 1957 (see the summary given in gEVXF.w FOR RELIGIOUS, 16 [July, 1957], 228-33), and on April 10, 1958 (see gEV~F~W FOR RELIGIOUS, 17 [Sept., 19581, 293-96). A~ter expressing his regret that in some regions tranquilizing drugs are abused because they are at the free disposition of.the general publi.c, the Pontiff concluded his address by urging his hearers to continue their researches for the relief of human suffering. On September 5, 1958 (AAS, pp. 726-32), Plus XII addressed the International Society for Blood Transfusion, telling them that it is necessary to inform the general public about the laws of heredity, especially as they refer to the transmission of blood deficiencies and defects. Accordingly, he said, it would be good to organize bureaus of information and consultation like the Dight Institute in the United States where young people planning marriage could be informed about these matters. The Vicar oi: Christ concluded by noting that the Dight Institute does not aim to repress fecundity nor does it give information on the method to be used in "planning" families. A week later, September 12, 1958 (AAS, pp. 732-40), Plus XII spoke to the International Society of Hematology on the means of preventing the transmission of defective hereditary traits. The solu-tion to this pr6blem, he said, can not be found in artificial insemination, 102 March, 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS which is forbidden not only to the unmarried, but also to the married. Neither is voluntary adultery permissible, since no married person may put his conjugal rights at the disposition of a third party. Like-wise direct sterilization may not be utilized; for such sterilization, whether temporary or permanent, whether of the man or woman, is illicit by reason of the natural law. The Pope added, however, that in given cases indirect sterilization may be permitted. Thus if all the conditions of the principle of. double effect are present, a woman may at the direction of her physi.i:ian take certain types of pills to cure a malady of the uterus, even though the pills may cause temporary sterility. After expressing his alarm about the favorable reaction of some moral theologiang to recently discovered drugs that can be used to induce sterility, the Pope went on to condemn artificial birth control. He pointed out, however, that the Ogino-Knaus method is morally justified if it is used for proportionately serious reasons, adding that eugenic considerations may be such. He praised the practice of adoption, .remarking, however, that it is necessary that children of Catholics be given to adoptive parents who are also Catholics. In the latter part of' his allocution the Pope pointed out that while one might advise against marriage between persons with a hereditary blood defect, still one could not forbid such a marriage, since the right to marry is one of the fundamental rights of the human person; moreover, in this whole area it must always be re-membered that men are not generated primarily for earth but for heaven. The Vicar of Christ also said that if a married couple discovered after their marriage that they possessed the blood defect characteristic of Mediterranean regions, this discovery would not in-validate their marriage, unless the absence of every hereditary defect had been made a condition of the marriage contract. Similarly, the "Rh situation" can not be regarded as a reason for the nullity of a marriage, even when this situation results in ~he death of the children from the first pregnancy; for the object of the matrimonial contract is not the infant, but the right to the accomplishment of the natural marriage act. On August 17, 1958 (AAS, pp. 701-05!, Pius XII broadcast a message for the conclusion of the traditional Catholic Week held in Berlin. He t61d his German listeners that the city in which they were meeting was a symbol of a divided people; nevertheless, as he reminded them, the days they had just spent together should show 103 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious how communion in a common faith can unite them in spite of all material barriers and frontiers. He urged the Catholics of West Germany to increase their generosity to the refugees from the East and exhorted Catholics living in the Communist zone of Germany to do everything in their power to attenuate the effects on their children of schools that are without God and against God. Finally he pleaded with his listeners not to separate religion from life. It is always difficult, he said, to make a man a Christian; and this is doubly so today since the age of technique we live in can easily make men lose sight of spiritual and supernatural values. Christians today, he added, are much like Christians of the primitive Church--almost suffocated in a milieu of paganism. Catholics, therefore, of today need heroism to so live that they may be the s~It of the earth. On September 7, 1958 {AAS, pp. 679-83), Plus XII addressed the International Congress of Classical Archaeology, remarking on the constant interest of the Papacy in archaeology and pointing out that much in the pre-Christian era was a preparation for the coming of the Gospel message. On September 8, 1958 {AAS, pp. 683-87), the Pontiff addressed the International Congress of Judiciai~y Officials, advising them to be diligent, precise, and impartial in their work and urging them to be deeply aware of the inalienable rights of God over men and human affairs. The last document to be noted from AAS of this period as coming from the authority of Plus XII is a decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, approving under the date of May 24, 1958 {AAS, pp. 711-12), the reassumption of the cause of Blessed Joseph Mary Tommasi (1649-1713), confessor, Theatine, and Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church. John XXIII The remaining pages of the issues of AAS during the period under survey were concerned with the details of the death of Plus XII (AAS, pp. 761-836) and the election and coronation of John XXIII (AAS, pp. 837-908}. During the course of the latter events, the new Pope had occasion to make four addresses which should be noticed here. Immediately after his election on October 28, 1958 (AAS, pp. 878-79), the newly elected Pope addressed the Cardinals of tl'ie conclave, giving them the reason why he had chosen the name of John. It was, he said, the name of his own father; the church of his baptism had borne the same name, as do innumerable churches throughout the world including the Lateran Basilica. Moreover, the ¯ name John was the one most used by Popes in the long history of 104 March, 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS the Papacy. Besides, he added, St. Mark, patron of Venice, also bore the name of John. But above all, he concluded, he had chosen the name because it was the name carried by the two men closest to Christ: John the Baptist and John th~ beloved disciple. The second address of John XXIII was given on October 29, 1958 (AAS, pp. 838-41), when the Pontiff broadcast a message to the entire Catholic world. After addressing all members of the Church, especially .those suffering persecution, the Holy Father gave striking evidence of his desire to work for peace. He called on the leaders of the world to work for peace rather than war, pointing out to them, however, that external peace can never be had unless men first enjoy peace within themselves. During the Mass of his coronation on November 4, 1958 (AAS, pp. 884-88), the Vicar of Christ delivered a homily in which he said that in his coming pontificate he would strive to achieve one thing more than anything else: to be a good pastor and shepherd for the entire flock of Christ. A d.ay later (AAS, pp. 900-902}, John XXIII spoke to the representatives sent by various countries to his coronation, reiterating to them his desir~ to work for peace. Three other documents concernifig John XXIII should be noted here; the first two (AAS, p. 904) give the text of telegrams sent by him to Cardinal Mindszenty and to Cardinal Stepinac, who were unable to attend the conclave; the third document, issued under the date of November 17, 1958 (AAS, pp. 905-06), is a letter to Monsignor (later Cardinal) Tardini, appointing him Secretary of State. This survey may be fittingly concluded by listing here the im-portant dates in the life of the new Pope as given in AAS, p. 902: Birth at Sotto il Monte, Italy--November 25, 1881 Priesthood--August I0, 1904 Domestic Prelate--May 7, 1921 Titular Archbishop of Areopolis--March 3, 1925. Consecration as archbishop--March 19, 1925 Apostolic Visitor--March 19, .1925 Apostolic Delegate--October 16, 1931 Titular Archbishop of Mesembria--November 30, 1934 Apostolic Nuncio--December 23, 1944 Cardinal--January 12, 1953 Patriarch of Venice--January 15, 1953 Election as Pope--October 28, 1958 Coronation--NovemBer 4, 1958. 105 Views, News, and Previews ~'~EVIEW,,FOR RELIGIOUS hopes to make "Views, News; and I'~Previews a standard part of each of its issues. In it will be published brief items concerning matters of interest to religious, such as anniversary celebrations of the founding of religious orders and congregations, educational and hospital matters, letters to the editor, and so forth. Readers of the R~.\,~Ew are encouraged to send such items to the editor. No such items can be returned to the sender nor can the l~Ev18w guarantee publication of any particular item. In 1956 the National Institute of Mental Health awarded Loyola University, Chicago, a five-year grant for developing mental health curricular materials for Catholic seminarians. After almost three, years of research and development, the Loyola Project, is now prepared to make public its preliminary work. The materials prepared by the Project on Religion and Mental Health are intended for eventual use in training men for the priesthood. The overall purpose in preparing the materials is to bring the facts and accepted conclusions of the behavioral sciences'to bear on the training and work of the con-temporary priest. When the materials have been completed and tested, they will be offered for use in Catholic seminaries throughout the country. The Loyola Project is under the direction of the Reverend Vincent V. Herr, s.J., and the Reverend William J. Devlin, S.J. Further details about the project may be obtained from either Father Herr or Father Devlin, at Loyola University, 6525 Sheridan Avenue, Chicago 26, Illinois. Father Joseph Lamontagne, S.S.S., is interested 'in obtaining a list of books that would help spiritual directors to prepare a can-didate for entrance into religious life. Father Lamontagne is interested in the matter because he is convinced "that a number of candidates fail to make the grade because of lack of sufficient preparation." Readers of the REw~.w who know of such books should write to Father Lamontagne at 184 76th Street, New York 21, New York. Registration for the summer session at Dominican College, San Rafael, California, will take place on the afternoon of June 27; classes 106 VIEWS, NEWS, AND PREVIEWS will begin on June 29 and extend until August 8. Besides'offering a complete program of undergraduate work, M.A. programs will be offered in biochemistry, education, English, history, and religion. The College also offers a five-year summer program' in theology and Scrip-ture; the program leads to either an M.A. degree in religion or a certif-icate in theology and is under the direction of the Dominican Fathers. The College will also offer for the sixth consecutive summer the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine Leadership course. Campus resi-dence is available for sisters and lay women; for priests and brothers there is the possibility of residence with the Marist. Fathers. For further information write to: Sister M. Richard, O.P., Director ot~ Summer Sessions, Dominican College, San Rafael, California. The forty-fourth annual convention of the Catholic Hospital Association will be held May 30 through June 4, 1959, in St. Louis, Missouri. The theme, of this year's convention will be "Management --A Sacred Trust." Some of the topics to be discussed at the con-vention are: management's effect on patient care: the management function of the department head or supervisors; personnel selection, placement, and motivation; management of materials, machines, and money; management of hospital markets; the importance of the in-dividual in intra-departmenfal and external hospital public relations; a program on management from the viewpoint of the mother house; a review of social changes that will be affecting the hospitals of the future; and ways of making the Catholic hospital more Catholic. Blessed Joseph Mary Tommasi, whose cause for canonization is noted in this issue's "Survey of Roman Documents," was born at Licata in Sicily on September 12, 1649. He was the eldest son of Duke Julius Tommasi of Palma; at fifteen he renounced his primo-geniture rights and entered the Theatine order at Palermo where .he was professoed on March 25, 1666. He was ordained priest in, 1673; and from that year until his-death he lived at Rome, principally at San Silvestro al Quirinale. He was one of the most learned men of his time, specializing in .scripture studies, ecclesiastical history, patristics, and especially Roman liturgy; in the last named branch of studies he is still an important authority. On May 18, 1712, he was created a cardinal. After a life of great austerity and charity, he died on Jan-uary 1, 1713. He was beatified by Pius VII in 1803 and is com-memorated on March 24. 107 QUESTIONS AND ANSW~.RS Review for Religious Saint Xavier College, Chicago, announces its twelfth summer-session Theological Institute, June 22-July 31. Two programs are offered: 1) A five-summer program leading to the Master of Arts Degree conferred by the Dominican College of St. Thomas Aquinas of River Forest, Illinois. 2) A three-summer program leading to a certificate in theology, Sacred Scripture, and canon law. Priests, brothers, and seminarians, as well as sisters, are admitted to both programs. The Reverend Reginald Masterson, O.P., Professor of Theology at St. Rose Priory, Dubuque, Iowa, Director of the Institute, and twelve Dominican Fathers comprise the teaching staff. For further information address: The Director of the Summer Session, Saint Xavier College, Chicago 43, Illinois. Question,s Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph ~. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] m5-- Why do we have so many outstanding novices and so many mediocre religious? This is certainly a large question. Some religious fortunately rise above their formation; but ordinarily the mature, cap'able, pro-gressive, and spiritual religious is had only by a suitable, competent, and sufficiently prolonged formation. It is obvious that all aspects of such a formation have been lacking in many institutes. Novice masters can so readily mistake external regularity for an interior life. Perhaps no principle of the movement of renovation and adaptation is of greater value than the insistence on individual formation and the necessity of a spirituality founded on personal conviction. The latter, ordinarily speaking, is the measure of the permanence of the novice's "spirituality. "The same thing happens in many of our young men that we encounter in so many Christiins of our day. They were born, grew up, and lived in an atmosphere that was Christian more by tradition than by conviction. There are so few Christians of conviction and of life; they so readily fall before difficulty and sacrifice. Many of our youth when assigned outside the house of formation, placed in contact 108 March, 1959 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS with the life and spirit of the world, and deprived of the aid of living in a house of studies gradually descend to making a pact with a mediocre life. Others, and they are not so few, collapse after scarcely one conflict of soul. Others, and not always the more nu-merous, retain their fervor." Reverend A. Cecchin, O.S.M., Acta et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfectionis, III, 155-56. "To form the moral judgment the mistress will devote herself to making" her subjects understand the justification for the regula-tions and customs to which they are subjected. While leading them to obey supernaturally, even without understanding, she will try as far as possible to do away with the automatism which leads religious to fulfil the tasks assigned to them without caring about their pu.r-pose or their value. In order to form the conscience permanently, it is essential that she should not be satisfied with forming habits devoid of all convictiofi which disappear in a changed environment as soon as the surroundings of the novitiate have been left. Without tolerating the spirit of destructive criticism it is necessary to develop moral convictions which prevent routine from depriving one's cuso tomary actions of their spiritual value and their attractiveness." Rev-erend Reginald Omez, O.P., Religious Sisters, 235-36. ¯6- Our constitutions state: 'tin affairs of minor importanc% it is always advisable for the mother general to ask the opinion of her councilors but she is not obliged to follow it." Isn't this article too restrictive of the authority of the mother general? Any superior is evidently obliged to seek the consent or advice of his council when this is commanded by canon law or the con-stitutions. The practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions places great emphasis on the office of councilor, and the constitu-tions usually recommend that any superior should seek the advice of his council in 'other important matters. This recommendation should be followed even when it is not contained in the constitutions. The only matters that remain are those of lesser importance and of no real importance. It is evidently restrictive of the authority of a superior even to recommend that he seek .the advice of his council ¯ in such matters. He would then be deprived of almost any power of acting without the advice of his council. Therefore, the article quoted above must refer only to matters of relatively greater im-portance. 109¯ QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious --7-- Is there any law of the Chur~:h on the color of the glass of the sanctuary lamp? The Code of Canon Law (c. 1271) does not legislate on the color of the glass of the lamp that is to burn constantly ~before the tabernacle in which the Blessed Sacrament is reserved. Therefore, car~onists and moralists do not discuss this topi'c at a~ny length and very frequently do not even mention it. On June 2, 1883, the Sacred Congregation of Rites replied in the affirmative to the.follow-ing question: "May the usage be tolerated of using lamps of glass that is not transparent or translucent but colored, for example, green or red?" (SRC, 3576, 5). It is certain from this reply that colored glass, and in particular green or red, is tolerated. Some canonists, moralists, and rubricists affirm that such colored glass is permitted. The reply does not prescribe but evidently presupposes as preferable transparent or translucent (clear) glass. Therefore, the literal sense of the one law of the Church on this matter is that clear glas.s, is p.referable but colored glass, and in particular green or red, is tolerated. Another argument for the clear glass is that white is the liturgical color of the Blessed Sacrament, and this is undoubtedly the reason why clear glass is preferred in the reply of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. Because of thisofficial reply and the color of the Blessed Sacrament, liturgists and specialists in church building and furnishings are more apt to emphasizd the ~lear glass. O'Connell- Fortescue, The Ceremonies of the Roman Rite Described, 6. note 5: "The glass of the lamp should be white but colored glass is toler-ated.': O'Connell, Church Building and Furnishing, 235: "The glass of the lamp that burns before the tabernacle should be white (the color of the Blessed Sacrament), but colored glass is tolerated." Directions for the Use of Altar Societies and Architects, 35: however, the glass vessel is visible, it should be of white (clear) glass, which is the liturgical color of the Blessed Sacrament, though the use of colored glass is tolerate~d.'' Anson, Churches Their Plan and Furnishing, 112: "Most liturgical authorities recommend that the glass vessel . . . should be white, this being the color associated with the Blessed Sacrament, according to Roman usage. The Sacred Congregation of Rites has tolerated lamps of colored glass, e. g., red, blue, green.". O'Shea, The Worship of the Church, 195: "White or clear glass is to be prel%rred to colored, although that is 110 Marc]~,1959 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS tolerated." Reinhold, The American Parish and the Roma~r Liturgy, 25-26: "Sermons have described how the iittle red light gives the Catholic churches an animated character, their climate of divine presence, and how visiting Catholics feel at home and called to prayer wherever the 'little red light' shows that the church is 'in-habited' by God. Actually, however, the sanctuary lamp should not be red but colorless . Thus, this is not only a law but also an observance against our own modern custom, and this for the very important reason that separate colors have a symbolical meaning. Colored lights are never to be used for the Holy Eucharist in any form whatsoever because the Body and Blood of the Lord, the ful-heSS and source of all sanctity, is to be symbolized by an unbroken or full light which more properly signifies the divine presence. The components o~ white or the partial colors Imade visible through a prism or in a rainbow) are fit to represent only partial sanctity or holiness by participation. If we use externals to point to spiritual realities at all, we ought to use the correct ones." I do not see why white, the color of the Blessed Sacrament, is not verified by a white as well as a clear glass. The former can appear to give an even whiter light. For the same reason, it can be held that a white glass is in accord with the preference of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. As is evident also from the quota-tions given above, not all the authors who place greater insistence on a white glasg understand this term exclusively in the sense of a clea'r glass. My conclusion therefore is that, because of the official reply and' the color of the Blessed Sacrament, either white or clear glass is preferred; any other color is only tolerated. At the Venl sanctlficator of the Offertory and at the Last Bless-ing in Mass, does a priest begin the gestt, re of extending-elevating-joining the hands from the table of the altar or from his breast? From his breast. The rubrics state clearly for both of these occasions that the priest is to stand erect before he begins the gesture. (Ordo et Ritus Servandus in Celebratione Missae, VII, 5; XII, 1) It would be a highly peculiar gesture if the priest, while standing erect, were to begin the extension ~of the hands from the table of the altar. {Cf. Van der Stappen-Croegaert, Caeremoniale, II, De Ce!ebrante, 16; De Herdt, Praxis Liturgica, I n. 140; De Carpo-Moretti. Caeremoniale, n. 325) 111 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religion, s 9 May the head be bowed in making a simple genuflection?" Neither the body nor the head is to be bowed in any simple genuflection (on one knee), not even when the holy name is said while genuflecting nor in the genuflections at the Consecration (Cf. J. O'Connell, The Celebration of Mass, 260, and note 88). 10 Our constitutions .state: "It is the duty of the tellers to take care that the ballots are cast by each elector secretly, carefully, individually and in the order of precedence (Can. 171, ~ 2)." What is the meaning of "carefully"? The sense of "carefully" or "diligently" is obscure, and this term is therefore often omitted from constitutions. The several meanings given by authors are that the tellers should perform their duties carefully, so that there may be no reason for complaint; without loss of time and "with a careful handling of the ballots; that they should be vigilant lest any voter cast more than one vote or extract any vote already cast; and that they should carefully examine and record each vote. Our reception of the habit, first profession of temporary vows, renewals of temporary vows, p~rpetual profession, and public devo-tional renewals of temporary and perpetual vows a!l occur at Mass. On such occasions, is the priest obliged to say the Leonine Prayers after a low Mass? It is at least safely probable that he may omit the prayers after Mass on all these occasions because of the extrinsic solemnity added to the celebration (Cf. J. O'Connell, The Celebration of Mass, 179; Mueller-Ellis, Handbook of Ceremonies, 100; Wuest-Mullaney-Barry, Matters Liturgical, 442; Van der Stappen-Croegaert, Caeremoniale, II, De Celebrante, 130; Callewaert, Caeremoniale, 120, 14; De Amicis, Caeremoniale Parochorum, 157, note 81). I read the following article in the constitutions of a congregation of brothers: "The management of the temporal affairs of the house, tb~t is, the acquisition of the necessary provisions and clothing and tb~ repairs of the building may be entrusted to his supervision [the l-,'al brother assistant]. He shall therefore see to all these things 112 l~larch, 1959 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS according to the instructions given to him by the local superior." Wouldn't it be advisable for congregations of sisters to adopt such a delegation of authority? Yes, at least in the larger convents. All are urging a more maternal and spiritual government, but few are giving any attention to the overburdened local superior. She is usually also the bursar; principal of the school; has the care of the material condition and all material necessities of the convent, scl~ool, and members of the community; and is burdened also by the swarming minutiae of lesser permissions and minor disciplinary matters. This practice is harmful to maternal and spiritual government and to the general efficacy and dignity of the office. The burden could be sensibly lightened by delegating such matters as the maintenance and ordinary repairs of the convent and school, the usual material necessities of members of the community, lesser permissions, and minor infractions of re-ligious discipline to the local assistant. 13¸ Why do we stand for the /lngelus at noon on Saturdays during Lent? The Regit~r~ ~'~eli, which replaces the ~lngclt~s during Paschaltide, is always said standing. The ,'lngelt~s is said kneeling except from Saturday evening until Sunday evening inclusive. The reason for standing during Pa~chaltide is aptly explained by Jungmann, Public Worship, 202: "As early as the second century people regarded not merely the first week after Easter but the entire seven weeks which followed Easter as a festal time. They called it Pentecost; the name referred not just to its concluding day ('the fiftieth') but to the whole period. During this time no one was to fast; nor should one pray kneeling, but only standing, because we are all risen with Christ. In consequence the l"le~'tr~mus ge~ua was never used at this time. And that is why to this day we still pray at least the antiphon of our Lady (Re~/i~t~ cac/~) only while standing up. The same law applies also, and for the same reason to the Sunday and the Sunday ,4~tgclns." The same law applies because Sunday is the memorial day of the Resurrection (ibiJ. 10). CabroI, Liturgical Prayer, 81-82, expresses himself in similar fashion: "St. Irenaeus, in the second century, well explains this: 'We kneel on six days of the week in token of our frequent fails into sin; but on Sundays we remain,standing as if to show that Christ has raised .us again and 113 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious that by His grace He has delivered us from sin and death.' " The liturgical day is computed from Vespers to Vespers. Since during Lent Vespers in choir are said before noon, the /Ingelus is said standing at noon also on Saturdays during Lent. The same norm 6f standing and kneeling applies to the final antiphon of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Office. A genuflection at the words, "And the Word was made flesh," is neither prescribed nor forbidden. The form of the gngelus and the indulgences for its recitation~ may be found in the Raccolta, n. 331. --14- Is the indulgence lost by any change whatever made in an indulgenced prayer? Canon 934, § 2 reads: ". but the indulgences cease entirely if there has been any addition, omission, or interpolation [in the prayer]." However, on November 26, 1934, the Sacred Penitentiary replied that these words of canon 934, § 2 were not to be under-stood rigorously as applying to any additions, omissions, or changes whatsoever but only to such as changed the substance of the prayers. (Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, II, 236) ~ 'hat is the law of the code on discussions by religious capitulars concerning those competent for elective offices? A private or public discussion among the "capitulars on the merits and demerits of particular persons for the 'offices to which the elections are to be made is not mentoned in the code and consequently is neither commanded nor forbidden by canon law. The constitutions of lay institutes often contain a statement to the effect that prudent consultation regarding the qualifications of ~hose eligible is pe.rmitted within the bounds of justice and charity. Such consultations are at least very frequently necessary, for example, the religious of the United States will rarely know the religious of England, France, or Germany who have the qualifications necessary for a superior general. This is almost equally true of any large institute or province. In a small institute or province such consultations will not be generally necessary, but even in these some individual electors will often find it necessary to consult and seek information ~on those qualified. It is also true that even in a smaller institute those of one age level, locality, or field of work are often 114 March, 1959 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ignorant olc the abilities and accomplishments oF rhose olc osher levels, localities, and fields of labor. It is rarely expedient to hold such discussions publicly in an assembly of the capitulars. They should consist of private discussions among a few or of individual consultation. These consultations are to be limited to a sincere seeking and giving of information on the abilities and defects of particular persons insofar as these are necessary or useful for forming a judgment on the suitability° of the person for the office in question. They should be Free oi~ any persuasion or even of counselling a capitular to vote for or against anyone. The common and greater good of the institute should be the motive. All motives oF mere personal Friendship or aversion, oF pushing a religious because he is from one's own province oi" country, as also and especially the formation of blocs or parties are dearly out of place. --16-- Our constitutions state that there are to be two councilors in every formal house and a bursar in every house. Must there be a bursar also in non-formal houses? Yes, and this is an obligation of the Cod~ of Canon Law. A formalI house is a religious house in which at least six professed religious reside, of whom, if it is a clerical institute, at least four must be priests (can. 488, 5°). Canon 516, § 1 commands that at least formal houses are to ha(,e councilors and recommends that smaller houses also have councilors. Non-formal houses of lay institutes more frequently follow this recommendation by having one councilor in these houses. Canon 516, ~ 2 states absolutely, without any distinction of formal and non-formal houses, that there is to be a local bursar i:or every house. Therefore, there is to be a local bursar also in non-formal houses. Canon 516, § 3 enjoins that ordinarily the office of local' superior is to be separated from that of local bursar but permits the combining of the two offices in the one person when this is demanded by necessity. Even if the~ particular constitutions affirm that these offices are absolutely in-compatible, they may be combined in a case of necessity. (Cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 10-1929-36, note 713) Vari-ous terms are used for the bursar in different constitutions, for example, treasurer, procurator, procuratrix, stewardess, econome, economa, administrator, administratrix, and so forth. 115 Book Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] PROCEEDINGS OF THE 1957 SISTERS' INSTITUTE OF SPIR-ITUALITY. Edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 1958, Pp. 387. $4.00. The 1957 Institute of Spirituality for Sister Superiors and Novice Mistresses, sixth of these summer programs, has its proceedings collected into this handy volume. Those not able to attend may thus participate in some of its benefits. Moreover, those who were there may refresh their memories from this volume and in it study the ideas put forth in their objective reality, free from the coloring of local personalities and enthusiasms. The purpose of these pro-grams is "to provide . . a deeper and clearer understanding of the theological and canonical principles basic to the religious life." Since, the preface argues, "an unfortunate dichotomy between the apostolate and [personal and community] spirituality exists in' the minds of too many religious and in the very program of formation," the 1957 Institute "sought to dispel this misunderstanding and further the integration of the two aspects of the Christian life by exploring the whole province of the apostolate as the contifiuation of the Redemptive Mission of Christ in His Mystical Body for the glori-fication of the Father and the salvation of mankind. Guided by faith ~nd inspired by hope and charity, the apostolate is a fulfilling of the Divine Will and a powerful means of personal sanctification and community development." Certainly the organizers of this Institute are to be congratulated on their realistic choice of theme as well as for their orderly programming of talks closely connected with the general subject of the sessions, not to mention their never-to-be-sufficiently-praised in-terest in the spiritual life of American religious women. Like most proceedings, however', the various contributions are of unequal value. As readings, too, they suffer from their oratorical quality, invaluable in the assembly hall but deleterious to their natural appeal as material for private study (though, logically enough, they are, in part at least, not unsuitable for public reading--say in the refectory). This is no fault. Everyone knows it is of the nature of proceedings to have a certain bombastic quality which the mind privately reading 116 BOOK REVIEWS abhors, for example, page 177; ". . . when our buoyancy and optimism and trust and confidence is put to the ultimate test . " Father Louis J. putz, C.S.C., a determined foe of unrealistic spirituality, lays out on a thought-through, carefully written basis the theology of the apostolate. His presentation is solid, occasionally witty: "No one can deny that the lay apostolate is very much in the air. Unfortunately, for many priests and religious, they would just as soon see it stay there." He speaks first of the mission of the Church in the twentieth century, that is, to continue to effect the Incarnation, in the wide sense of the word, of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. He lays down the general lines of the program of :the Church, but with theological insight and enough concrete illustration to give his outline more reality and vitality than such roughly limned sketches usually have. Through the second chapter Father Putz expounds on the mission of the Word. There are many points, here particularly, where he shows how practical attitudes have to be the result of dogmatic tenets, He goes on to treat in a theologically penetrating way the mission of the people of God. In dealing with the personal and institutional apostolate and with apostolic spirituality, he makes practical sugges-tions, showing in his attitudes the influence of the writings of Car-dinal Suhard, whom he cites in his bibliography. Finally he considers the influence of religious on the lay apostolate and pronounces some good dos and don'ts. In general, the sweep of Father Putz's thoughts, their direction, is not as striking as some of his excellent insights. And a littie more care on the editor's part would have eliminated the verbatim repetition of a full paragraph of Father Putz's matter; see pages seven and thirty-eight. Father Elio Gambari, S.M.M. ("Recent Decrees of the Holy See Regarding the Apostolate"), undertakes to explain the Church's mandate for religious as well as the connection between the aposto-late and the spirituality of an institute. While he does not do this at a purely juridical level, his general orientation is more there than anywhere else. A member of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, Father Gambari speaks with prudent authority relative to the historical and actual juridical position of religious institutes in the life of the Church. Father Charles J. Corcoran, C.S.C., has as his subject "The Apostolate as a Means of Sanctification." Though as a section this part of the Institute is more carefully edited than some other parts, 117 ]300K REVIEWS Review for Religious his first conferences are perhaps a little too sermon-like to effectively embrace subject matter useful to the purpose of the whole Institute; moreover, his explanation of the apostolate as a means to the sanctification of the individual never quite "jells" in spite of the fact that he is given additional opportunity to clarify his position by a question put to him on this point. Father Corcoran, however, makes some excellent points in insisting that the emphasis of novice-sl~ ip training be more on principles than on minutiae of observance. Moreover, in his conferences on prayer there is a short exposition of the method of the school of Cardinal de Berulle, an explanation which, for clarity and brevity can scarcely be surpassed. Sister Mary Emil, I.H~M. ("The Apostolate of Teaching"), pro-vides some high points of the sessions. She speaks with a deep, inner understanding, enthusiasm, and (except where she places St. Jerome in the wrong century--a slip surely) learning. Her well-documented and, statistically speaking, solidly based analysis of the present teaching situation in Catholic schools gives her the opportunity to make suggestions which wise superiors surely will consider. One telling point (to give an example) is where she says, "Our retreats could have interpreted our work and its integration for us, but often they did not, because the masters ,.0ere not teachers themselves o'r did not know we had this problem." Wise retreat masters will follow such a useful suggestion from the floor. Another example of her penetrating insight is had where, in speaking of vocations to the religious life, she discards as useless the notion that God has only old-fashioned graces for modern girls. Father John J. Lazarsky, O.M.I., speaks on the subject of hospital and social work. However, he comple.tely avoids treating the second part of his subject.' It is clear from what he says that his 'experience in hospital work has been first-hand, extensive, and valuable. It is also clear that he made extraordinary efforts in his proximate preparation for the talks by. gathering useful data. One feels, nevertheless, that there was a deficiency in or omission of what should have been the next stage in the development of l~is material-- a calm period in which to assimilate it and to extract useffil con-clusions from it. Teaching catechism is the subject on which Father Joannes F/ofinger, S.J., expresses some personal views. Sympathetic as one should be to some of the aims the veteran missionary has in mind, one wonders whether or not some generalizations in his criticisms 118 March, 1959 BOOK REVIEWS of contemporary method may not be too universal, some of his projected substitutions too vague. Be that as it may, his views, or rather his enthusiasm, can stimulate constructively critical attitudes in us and prevent deadly humdrum from enervating our use of methods which, though they have proved effective in the past, need" constant evaluation for their effectiveness in the present situation and equally constant adaptation to current problems.--EAgL A. V~E~S, S.J. THE CHALLENGE OF BERNADETTE. By Hugh Ross William-son. Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1958. Pp. 101. $1.95. The Lourdes Ceatenary has been another great triumph of Mary. To a happily surprising degree, it has been also the'triumph of her confidante, St. Bernadette. The new books about her have been many; and they are good--so good that her friends read them one after another, with unflagging eagerness. Properly speaking, Hugh Ross Williamson's Challenge of Berna: dette is not another life, but a powerful interpretation of her life, and of Lourdes, as a divine sign of the truth of the Christian revelation in the face of a contradicting world. The author is perfectly at home in the literature of his subject and master of the historical, cultural, and theological background. ,He writes with the ' style of an experienced man of letters. In this brief review only two points can be singled out. By a remarkable combination of hard-headed realism and of perceptive gentleness, Williamson makes a positive, importanv contribution toward a better understanding of the characters who surrounded Bernadette and .trie~d her mettle. This applies especially to his treatment of the Abb~ Marie-Dominique Peyramale, her parish priest, and of Mother Marie-Th~r~se Vauzou, her novice mistress, They are redoubtable figures; but they have their qualities, just the same-- qualities which Bernadette valued highly. The other point is simply the main theme of the book brought to its focus. The challenge of Bernadette is the challenge of a saint who lacked everything the world covets and admires. It is the simple integrity of her Christian faith and piety, divinely sealed by the charism of miracle. It is Mary's challenge and Bernadette's to a world that isalways bringing upon itself the wages of its self-conceit~ It is God's challenge, through them, to repent; for the Kingdom of Heaven is very near at Lourdes.--EDGAg R. SMOTHERS, S.J. 119 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious LIKE A SWARM OF BEES. By Sister M. Immaculata, S.S.J. Second Printing. Buffalo, New York: Mount St. Joseph Mother-house, 1958. Pp. 213. $3.50. The Sisters of st. Joseph of Buffalo here have their history recounted right back to the days of three hundred years ago when a good bishop of Le Puy in France and Father Jean Pierre Medaille, S.J., collaborated to provide initial inspiration and impetus. The newness of the way of religious life begun by these sisters shocked narrow traditionalists at first; but criticism eventually had to grow silent, as it always does, in the face of good works blessed with God's graceful favor. The book will be of particular interest to those who work with these sisters and would like to know more of their spirit, and local history or to those who aspire to join their zealous ranks.--EAgI. A. WEIs, S.J. GOD'S HIGHWAYS. By J. Perinelle, O.P. Translated by Donald Attwater. Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1958. Pp. ix, 339. $4.25. When a distinguished writer turns, for a change, to the work of translation, the reader is assured of a resulting product worthy of his best attention on a double count. Donald Attwater has enriched our vocation literature with an English classic in God's Highways, giving us a charming rendition of Father Perinelle's volume on religious vocaton. The well-known Dominican author addresses his pages primarily to those consecrated to God in religion, including secular institutes, ~ut notes that all Christian perfection has a common basis, whether lived in or out of the cloister, and that hence lay men and women, striving for a deeper life, will find inspiration and guidance in these chapters. The lucid style and vigorous thought captivates the reader from the start, expressing, as it does, a po.werful conviction that "for beauty, grandeur, fruitfulness and happiness not one of the happy ways. of life equals that which is wholly dedicated to the Lord, for not one of them is given over to so sublime a love." Father Perinelle does much more than write another book on the vows. He lucidly portrays the in'planting and growth of a vocation from its first tiny beginnings, and one instinctively cherishes the desire that many young people may come under the tutelage of so wise a director. For this purpose the opening chapters ought properly to be read long before one enters the cloister. The pity 120 March, 1959 BOOK REVlEWS is that many a later reader will sigh and utter to himself, "If only I had known all that while I was fighting my hard way into religion." Appreciation of the implications of any life in God's service will require understanding of the fundamental God-given habits of faith and charity, which are perhaps too little appreciated in the process of sanctification. Both these divine-gift "virtues are adequately presented in the second and third sections of the book. The wonders of charity, one feels, as portrayed in these scintillating pages, would turn earth into heaven if they could be fully realized. Yet this charity "is no leveller, it does not kill natural affection"; nor does it save us from still finding ourselves "like men with loads on their shoul-ders, some going up and some coming down the same narrow staircase: try as they may, they can't prevent their loads sometimes banging into one another." A fourth section treats of the general topic of religion as a fundamental virtue, and a "fellow of charity," resulting from our life in Christ and uniting us to Him in His priesthood. Seldom is the truth so convincingly put, in vocation treatises, that consecration to God in religion arises from the priesthood of Christ from which it derives both its existence and its worth. Before the specific treatment of the vows, a preliminary chapter makes it clear that these vows are not the invention of the Church but were introduced by Christ Himself through the Apostles. By their observance the Savior wished to reproduce in His followers ¯ the characteristics of His own life, but His advocacy of them is by way of counsel not precept. Chastity is exhibited first in its most attractive splendor, a loving gift that cannot be mere abstention. The subsequent pages on the pracdce of the virtue are precious in their sound and resolute actuality, presenting an alluring positive picture of the lovely virtue of virginity. Neither is "consecrated maidenhood" a mere addi-tional ornament of the Church; it is rather a vital organ, not a halo but a heart; a virtue, too, that is blessed with a nobler fertility, enriching the Church and society with "Fathers" and "Mothers" of a higher order. Poverty is viewed as. it took shape historically, from gospel beginning to our time, and with many legitimate varieties, under the Church's guidance and legislation, meeting the varying needs of persons and conditions. Special emphasis is lald on the recent 121 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious prescriptions of Sponsa Christi and allied documents in regard to the work of contemplative nuns. The impressive litany of dos and don'ts rehearsing ~he practice of poverty is attractive in its sane and good-humored realism. An impressive treatment of obedience closes the book, exhibit'-. ing the singular value of this virtue and vow in t~ostering true, spiritual, Christian freedom. "The service of God to which obedi-ence calls you is not slavery--it is freedom." Again the historic growth of obedience is traced, from the older hermits through St, Augustine and St. Benedict to our own times inclusive of secular institutes. Obedience is shown to offer endless opportunity for meritorious acts while there is a minimum danger of "sin against it. "Such is the illogicality of divine mercy." The author's treatment substantiates to the full his own final evaluation thus summarized: "Understood and practised in this way, obedience and its sister docility are educative, manly, expansive and fertile virtues." Once more be it said, the fine flavor of a translator's consum-mate art, added to the author's brilliant mastery of his subject, makes this book a valuable and engrossing addition to our vocation literature.--ALovsluS C. KEMPEP,, S.J. THE YANKEE PAUL: ISAAC THOMAS HECKER. By Vincent F. Holden, C.S.P. Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Company, 1958. Pp. xxii, 508". $6.95. Books have already gone on the market with the titles Yankee Batboy, Yankee Bob, Yankee Doodle, Yankie Rookie, Yankee Tab-ernacle, Yankee Yachtsman, Yankee 8tran#er, Yankee Privateer, Yan-kee Pasha, and Yankee Priest. Granted that it is difficult to be original in one's choice of title these days, Father Holden's selec-tion, Tt, e Yankee Paul. has the ring of a hackneyed phrase about it. This is unfortunate, for the book is good. The archivist of the Paulist community has done his noble group excellent service in commemorating its one hundred years of fruitful ministry to America by his publication of this p

Issue 15.5 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; Our New Business , ddress When we were preparing to publish the REVIEW, we arranged to have the College Press, in Topeka, do the printing and distribut-ing. For fifteen years the editors and the College Press have worked together in the closest h.armony. We have literally shared both heart'- 'aches and °joys. The heartaches were',mostly brought about by the difficulties of the war years: for example, as we published each num-ber we wondered how we would get enough paper for printing the next. The jo~,s consiste,d, am6ng other things, in getting the REVIEW out regularly and on time, despite the difficulties, and in the realiza-tion that this new apostolate for religious seemed to be appreciated. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to REVIEW FOR REL~IGIOUS 3115 South Grand Boulevard St. Louis 18, Missouri This is our new business address During all these fifteen years, Mr. 3. W. O,rr, owner of the Col-lege Press, and his assistants, have given the REVIEW the best they had: and that was very good, indeed. But the time has come when we must make new publishing arrangements. The reason for this is purely an "act of God," as far as both the editors and the College Press are concerned. There has been no break in the harmony that has always characterized our collaboration. Fortunately for us, the publishing department of the Queen's Work has agreed to take over the publication of the REVIEW. Be-ginning with the next volume, the REVIEW will be printed and dis-tributed by the Queen's Work. Obviously, the new publishers can-not wait till the last deadline to begin making addresses and keeping records. For this reason, please note the announcement in the c~nter of this page and follow it exactly. The editors are deeply grateful to the College Press for past col-. laboration and to the Queen'~ Work for taking over the burden. 225 I=xclaus!:rat:ion and Seculariza!:ion Joseph F.°Gallen, S.J. I. EXCLAUSTRATION , 1. Definition. Aft indult of exclaustration is the permission to remain temporarily outside one's religious institute apart from obedi-ence, dependence, and vigilance of religious superiors either for a determined period of time or for the duration of the reason for which the indult was granted. The religious requests the indult and is not obliged to use it afterit has been granted. The petition is made throu~gh religious, superiors. Canon law does not demand the con-sent of superiors, but it is the practice of the Holy See to grant no indult to religious without having considered the opinion of superiors nor generally without their consent. It is difficult to obtain an in-dult of exclaustration from the Holy See when superiors are opposed. The Holy See d~cides whether the opposition of superiors is unreas-onable or unjust.1 The petition therefore should be accompanied by the opinion of the superior general, substantiated by pertinent reasons and facts, as to whether the indult should be granted. Local ordin-aries follow the same practice in granting indults of exclaustration to members of diocesan congregations. Exclaustration differs from a me/e absence outside any house of one's institute (c. 606, § 2), es-sentially because in a simple absence the religious remains subject to the obedience and vigilance of superiors. Authors commonly assert that the Holy See does not grant an in-dult of exclaustration to priests unless the petition'is accompanied by the attestation of a local ordinary that he will permit the priest to reside in his diocese during the exclaustration and at least to say Mass. ~ 2. Competent authority forexclaustration and secularization (c. 638). The competent authority is,the same for both exclaus-tration and secularization. In pontifical institutes~ whether orders or congregations', only the Holy See can grant such an indult. Either the Holy See or the local ordinary is competent for members of dio-cesan congregations, but in practice the indult is obtained from the latter. The competent local ordinary is the ordinary of the place where the religious is staying. The ordinary of the mother house is 1. Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, II, 124-25 2. Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 1536, 5. 226 EXCLAUSTRATION AND SECULA.RIZATION competent only for religious staying within his diocese, not for those staying in. other dioceses.3 The competent ordinary therefore is the ordinary of the domicile or quasi-domicile of the religious, even if the latter is Outside either diocese at the time the indult is granted. A religious has a domicile in the diocese of the house to which he is assigned, a quasi-domicile in a diocese where he has licitly resided for the greater part of a year or has been or.dered to reside for the greater part of a year. The ordinary of the licit actual and real resi-' dence of a religious is also competent as long as such residence con-tinues and'the religious is within his diocese, i. e., of a diocese in which the religious has licitly resided for a week or at-, least for several days, since a place where one is staying is not confined in canon law to a domicile or quasi-domicile,4 An ordinary is probably competent with regard to any diocesan religious who is .actually licitly in his diocese at the moment the indult is granted, even if only momentarily and without any regard to the length of the stay, since this also is at least probably a canonical meaning of the place where one is staying.6 The apostolic delegate, possesses the following faculty for nuns: "To allow nuns in case of sickness or for other just and grave rea- ~sons to live outside the religious house for a time to be fixed at his prudent discretion, on condition, however, that they shal~ always have the association and assistance of their relatives by blood or mar-riage or of some other, respectable~woman, that they shall live at home and elsewhere a religious life free 'from the society of men, becomes virgins consecrated to God, and without prejudice to the prescription of canon 639.''~ 3. Sufficient reasons for exclaustration (c. 639). Since common life and subjection to superiors are highly essential elements of the religious state, serious and exceptional reasons are required for the granting of this indult. Those commonly given are a business un-dertaking, care of personal health, and care or support of one's par-ents when these things cannot be accomplished b~ a simple absence from the institute according to ~; 606, § 2~ Other reasons of equal or greater import will suffice. 4. Effects of an indult of exclaustration (c. 639). The effects 3. Code Comm., July 24, 1939; Bouscaren, Canon Law Di~est. II, 173. 4. CL'cc. 94, §§ 2-3; 162, § 1; 620: 1023, § 3; 1039, § 1: 1097, § 1, ~.2": 1563: 1787, § 1; 2385. 5. Cf. c. 94, §§ 2-3: Regatillo, lnterpretatio et lurisprudentia Codicis luris Canonici, 244-45: Michiels, Principia Generalia de Personis in Ecclesia, 210- 11 : 119: Normae Generales luris Canonici, II, 729-36. 6. Bouscaren, op. cir., I, 184; Vermeersch, Periodica, 12 (1924), 145-46. 227 JosEp~-I F. GRLLEN Reoieto for Religious are always the same, whether the indult is granted by the Holy See or a local ordinary. The latter cannot determine the effects of an indult granted by himself, since these are determined by c. 639. The exclaustrated religious remains a religious and a member of hi~ in-stitute. Therefore, he is free of no obligations and loses no rights except those expressly stated in law. The obligation of the vows continues during exclaustration. The obligation of chastity remains undhanged. Instead of being subject to the superiors of his institute, the exclaustrated religious is now subject, also in virtue of the vow of obedience, to the ordinary of the dibcese in which he is staying. The cession of the admihistration, disposition of the use and usufruct, and will that he had made in religion all remain in effect. Exclaus-tration does not change the norms for acquiring property, and the religious acquires property for the institute and for himself in the same way that he would if he were not exclaustrated. He is given implicit permission by the indult itself to acquire, administer, and use temporal goods insofar as these are necessary for his becoming sustenance and the purpose of the indult, e. g., the support of parents. He is obliged to avoid all superfluous expenses. The institute has no obligation from justice to support an exclaustrated religious but shbuld do so from charity insofar as he is hnable to support himself.7 The exclaustrated religious is held to all other obligations, i. e., the laws of the code on religious, the obligations of the Rule, con-stitutions, customs,, ordinances, and regulations of his institute in-sofar as these are compatible with his present state. He is therefore not held to incompatible obligations, which in general are those that depend on common life, e. g., silence, attendance at common exer-cises, inspection of correspondence. Compatible obligations, to which he is held, are, e. g., mental prayer, private recitation of the office, hearing of Mass, ~requenting the sacrament of penance, recitation of the rosary, examen of conscience, other prayers that can be said pri-vately, fast, and abstinence. He must put off the religious habit but may continue to wear any undergarments that appertain to the habit and the small habit, called the scapular, worn under the clothing by the tertiaries of some religious orders. Exclaustrated priests and clerics wear the dress of the diocesan clergy. For special reasons the local ordinary may permit an exclaustrated religious of a diocesan 7. Cf. Guti~rrez, Commentarlum Pro Religiosis, 36 (1955), 375; Schaefer, op. cit., n. 1535; Goyeneche, De Relioiosis, 196, note 19; Coronata, lnstitutiones luris Canonici, I, 840, note 4; Chdodi-Ciprotti, lus Canot~icura de Personis, n. 286; Berutti, De Religiosis, 327. 228 Seprernber, 1956 EXCLAUSTRATION ,AND SECULARIZATION congegation to wear the habit,s The Holy See, of course, may grant the same permission to a religious of a pontifical or diocesan insti-tute. The Holy See grants this permission when no scandal will ens,ue and provided the superior of the institute approves the request, espe-cially when the reason for the exclaustration is not caused by the re-ligious himself.9 During exclaustration the religious possesses neither active nor passive voice. He retains the merely spiritual privileges of his institute, e. g., indulgences. He follows the calendar and rite of his {nstitute in the recitation of the office and the same rite in saying Mass. He retains the privileged confessional faculties of his institute as also those of blessing objects. Heo is not deprived, of suffrages if he should die during exclaus~ration, since no law of the code divests him of this right acquired by profession.19 5, Return to the institute. Whe~i the definite time for which the indult was granted has expired or the reason for which it was given has ceased, the religious is ~o return without delay to his institute, unless an extension of the indult has been obtained from the'com-petent authority. The religious has the rights, to ret'urn before the expiration of the indult, and the institute is Obliged to receive him back. For just reasons his ,religious superiors may also recall him to the institute before the expiration of the indult. 6. Imposed exclaustration. A new form of exclaustration, not contained in the code, has been introduced in the recent practice of the Holy See. It is usually granted on the petition of superiors, whether the subject consents, .is opposed, or indifferent. The essen-tial characteristic of, this exclaustration is that it is imposed, is of obligation, is a precept of dwelling outside the institute. The rea-son is f.requently the good of the community, i. e., the conduct of the religious is a source of serious harm to the institute. Often the good of the subject also is intended, i. e., for his own good' the re-ligious sbould be e~claustrated. Typically specific cases are those of religious who are notably deficient in observance or obedience, who undermine and mi~chinate against government, and very difficult characters who do not merit dismissal but seriously disturb the p~ace of the community. These cases are stated to be of more frequent occurrence in institutes of women. Such reasons are often accom-panied by physical or mental maladies. The state of the religious in 8. Code Comm., Nov. 12, 1922; Bouscaren, op. cir., I, 326-27. 9. Larraona. Acta et Documenta Congressus lnternationalis 8uperiorissarum Gen-eraliurn, 265. 10. Creusen, Religious Men and Wom, en in the Codb, n. 334. 229 JOSEPH F. (3ALLEN Reolew for Religious imposed exclaustration is the same,as in 'the ordinary or voluntary exclaustration, but he may be placed under the vigilance of the local ordinary or his own religious superiors. The religious is obliged to work for his own support, but in this case the institute has a greater obligation i~n charity to support him insofar as he cannot do so him-self. Imposed exclaustration is not prescribed for any definite period of time, but it is not perpetual. It lasts as ldng as the.reasons and purpose persist in the judgment of the S. Congregation of Religious, and the rehg~ous may return and be receN:ed back into the institute only with the permission of the S. Congregation. A clerical religious in sacr,ed orders wh~ is to be exclaustrated in this manner may be received by a bishop but without any intention of future incardination. In this case the religious is in the same state as that of ordinary exclaustration. He is under the authority of the bishop, also in virtue of the vow of obedience, and he exercises the ministry under the authority of the bishop. Such a clerical religious may not have a bishop who is willing to receive him, but another ecclesiastical authority, e. g., a.religious superior of another institute, is willing to be answerable to the Holy See for at least his priest!y life. The religious is then permitted to say Mass in the religious or pious house under the responsibility of this superior. He remains under the authority~and vigilance of his own religious superiors. If ¯ neither a bishop nor other ecclesiastical authority is had, the Holy See does not ilnpose exclaustration on such a c]'erical religious except in a case of absolute necessity. If it is imposed, the exercise of any order or sacred ministry is fbrbidden; and the religious is under his own superiors with regard to his Christian, clerical, and religious life~n II. S~CULARIZATION 7. Definition and competent autboritO (cc. ,638, 640). Secu-larization is a departure from religion by which a subject is separ-ated completely and perpetually from all membership in his .institute and is freed completely and perpetually of all obligations and loses all rights that h~ve their source in religious profession. By seculari-zation the religious ceases to be a religious. Since secularization dis-penses from all the vows of religious profes~sion, even if solemn, i( is commonly called a dispensation from the vows of religion. The competent authority for an indult of secularization is the same as for exclaustration, as explained in n. 2. ~ 11. Guti~rrez, op. cit., 32 (1953), 336-39~; Larraona, op. cir., "266. 230 September, 1956. EXCLAUSTRATION AND SECULARIZATION 8. Sufficient reasons. Very serious' reasons~are required for secu-larization, and the ecclesiastical authority competent to grant the indult is the judge of their sufficiency. There must be a reason over and above the mere desire to'leave religion. The ir~dult is granted because of the motive of the request, not merely because it is requested. The most common reaso~ is that the religious finds the religious life morally impossible or too difficult, even if this state arises from culp-able causes that he will not correct, The difficulty may have its source °in the vow of chastity, obedience, or poverty, the common life, work, or general life of the institute. A reason insufficient in itself may become sufficient when the mental state of the religious that be will not correct is taken into account, e. g., if his desire to leave makes him useless or a source of harm i:o the institute. Other reasons of equal or greater import will suffice, ~. g., lack of suitability for the work of the institute, ill health, mental depression, necessary support of parent.s, and the case of those who are counselled to leave because otherwise the institute will initiate their dismissal. 9. Petition. The religious himself asks for the indult of seculari-zation, since it is a voluntary leaving of religion. He is to write out or at least sign his request, stating his name in religion and in the world, name of his institute, his present address, age, number of years in religion, of what vows he is professed and for how ,long, what orders he has received, that i~e requests an indult of seculariza-tion, all the reasons, and the date. The institute should retain a copy of this petition. The petition should be forwarded to the competent authority ordinarily through the superior general or at least through a higher superior. All the statements above (n. I) on the necessity of the consent of superiors for exclaustration apply here also. The higher superior should enclose a letter with the petition giving all in-formation pertinent to the case ;~nd his own opinion as to whether the religious should leave, substantiatin~ the latter with all reasons and facts that he may know. 10. Acceptance and refusal of indult. (a) Acceptance. When the indult of secularization is received, it should be communicated to the religious; and he should manifest his acceptance of it. "Any instruc-tions on the manner of acceptance contained in the indult are.to be followed. Otherwise, it is ,sufficient that the religious manifest his acceptance by any external s, ign that expresses acceptance. It is better for the acceptance to" be manifested in writing and before two wit-nesses. The following or a similar statement should be written or typed: "I attest that I today accepted, an .indult of secularization 231 JOSEPH 1~. GALEEN from the Order (Congregation)~ of N." The statement should con-tain mention of the place and date. It is to be signed by the recipient before the two witnesses, who are themselves to sign the acceptance as witnesses. The document is to be preserved in the files of the in-stitute. It would be well also for the higher superi'or, personally or through another, to give the secularized ex-religious a written and signed statement on the stationery of the institute to the effect that he had received and accepted an indult of secularization and .accordingly left religion free of all obligations of the religious life. The place-and date are to be mentioned also on this statement. (b) Acceptance and immediate repentance. An indult of seculari-zation produces all its effects immediately upon its acceptance, even if the former religious repents instantly and before leaving the house.12 (c) Refusal. Secularization, even though voluntarily petitioned, has no effect.until accepted; and the religious may refuse to accept the indult.13 If the institute, whether pontifical or diocesan, has serious reasons against the refusal these are to be proposed to the S. Congregation of Religious, which could oblige the religious to accept the [ndult or declare [hat the indult has its effect without ac-ceptance, thus making it equivalent to a form of dismissal.14 The formalities described above for an acceptance should also be followed for a refusal of the-indult. (d) Later useJof a refused indult. If the religious definitively fused the indult and later wishes to leave, a new indult must be pe-titioned. 'If, all things considered, 'the refusal was only doubtful, hesitant, not definitive, the indult is suspended and may be used later. If it is not accepted nor definitively refused within six months, the matter is to be referred tO the ecclesiastical authority that issued the indult.~ (e) Present practice of the Holt¢ See. Indults of secularization granted by the Holy See, for those who are not priests now contain the sentence: "This decree ceases to have any validity if hot'accepted by" the petitioner within ten days after being informed of the execu-torial decree." If within ten days: (1) the indult is expressly ac- 12. Cf.'Guti~trez, o/9. cir., 32 (1953), 194: Creusen, o/9. cit.,'n. 332, 3; Fan-fani, De lure Religiosocaro, n. 490. 13. S. C. of Religious, Aug. I, 1922; Bouscaren, ol9. dr., I, 326. 14. Ci:. Maroto, Commentari,,m Pro Religiosis, 4 (1923), 106. 15. Cf. Goyeneehe, Quaestiones Canonlcae, II, 126-27; Guti~rrez, o/9. cir., 32 (1953), 194-95: Jombart, Tcaitd de Dcoit Canonique, I, n. 907; Muzzarelli, Tractatus Canonicus de Congregationibas luris Dioecesani, 172: Jone, Cora-raeotarium in Codicem laris Canon.&[, I, 563; de Bonhome, Ret~ue des com-munautds Religieuses, 26 (1954), 47, 232 EXCLAUSTRATION AND SECULARIZATION cepted, it becomes effective immediately; (2) the indult is neither accepted nor definitively refused, it ceases'to have any validity at the end of this period;~ (3) the indult is definitively refused, all validity of the indult ceases on this definitive refusal. A new indult is to be petitioned if the religious repents of his refusal and wishes again to leave, even during the ten-d.ay period. The practice of the'.Holy See is not to grant the indult directly to'the religious but to commit to an intermediary person, e~ g.; the local ordinary, the granting of the indult to the religious. The actual granting of the indult by this intermediary is called the executorial decree. The ten days begin to run from the time the ~eligious is offi-cially notified of the executorial decree, not from the date of notifi-cation of the rescript of the Holy See. The day of notification, is not computed. If the notification is given on August 1, the ten days expire at midnight of August 11-12. This time does not run for any period in which the religious was ignorant of or unable to ex-ercise his right of acceptance and refusal.l~ 11. Effects of an inctult of secularization (c. 640). The effects are always the same, whether the indult is granted by the Holy See or ~a local ordinary~ The latter cannot determine the effects of an indult granted by himself, since these are determined by c. 640. One who has been secularized ceases simply and absolutely to be a r& ligious. He is in the same state as if he had never been a religious and° consequently has none.of the rights or obligations of a religious. Can. 640 specifie~ these effects by stating that he ceases to be a mem-ber of his institute; that he must put off the religious habit, as ex- ,plained in n. 4; that he is freed from all the vows of his religious p~ofession, even if solemn; that he is no longer bound by the con-stitutions nor by any particular law of his former institute nor by the obligation of .reciting the Divine Office in virtue of religious pro-fession; and that he loses a.ll rights and privileges of a religious. A secularized religious cleric in sacred orders is bound by tl~e obligation of clerical celibacy and chastity (c. 132, § I), of reciting tl'ie Divine Office (c. 135), and of wearing becoming ecclesiastical garb (c. 136, § 1). In the celebration of Mass, the recitation of the Divine Office, and the administration and reception of the sacraments, the secular-ized religious follows the rite and calendar of the diocesan clergy and laity, not any special rite or proper calendar of his former in-stitute. A secularized religious ma.y not. be admitted into any re-ligious institute without a dispensation from the Holy See, since he 16. Cf. Guti~rrez, ibid., 186-97; Larraona, op. cir., 266. 233 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious. is now bound by the invalidating impediment of c. 542, I°, of a previous religious profession. If he is again admitted,, he is not obliged to make another postulancy17 but must make another novice-ship, temporary profession, for the full time prescribed by, the, con-stitutions, and perpetual profession. His seniority is determined by the new profession. A dispensation may be requested for'a lessening of a noviceship of more than a year and also of the time of tem-porary profession. The questions specific to clerics in minor and sacred orders (c. 641) and the privations that affect the latter (c. 642) can be found in the ordinary canonical manuals. (a) Return o['tgroperty. The institute has no obligation to re-store to the secularized religious any property that he had given to the institute, e. "g., in the renunciation before solemn profession. However, it is the very common d6ctrine of authors that equity counsels the restoration of a part of such property, at least if it has not been expended,is The renunciation, ceases to have any validity with regard to property that will come to the former religious in the future. A professed of simple vows regains the administration, use, and usufruct of his personal property (cc. 569, § 1; 580, § 3). A few constitutions contain the provision that clothing and personal effects brought to the institute at entrance are to be restored in their current condition to a religious who leaves'or is dismissed after first profession. Such a provision is to be obeyed. The constitutions may contain the contrary provision that hll such objects, except those of sufficiently notable value, are implicitly renounced in favor of the institute at first profession. In the absence of any provision' of the constitutions or custom, the latter doctrine may at least probably be followed. The ihstitute cannot be expected to permit the religious to carry all such objects from house to house or be obliged to retain and store them. The entire capital sum of the dowry, ~but not the interest already derived from it, is to be restored to a.secularized re-ligious woman (c. 551, § 1)i It is forbidden to deduct anything from the dowry for ordinary or extraordinary expenses that the institute had to pay in favor of the religious, e. g., for her support as a postulant or novice, studies, or illne'ss. A secularized r~ligious may not seek compensation for services rendered to the institute at any 17. Cf. c. 640, § 2: Larraona, Commentacium Pro Relioiosis, 16 (1935), 223; done, ot9 clt., 565. 18. Cf. dombart, o19. cir., n. 908; Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 436; Claeys Bouuaert-Simenon, Manuale duris Canonici, I,, n. 689; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, 440, note 3; Vermeerscfi-Creusen, Epitome luris Canot~ici, I, n. 801. '234 EXCLAUSTRATION AND, ~;ECUL!~RIZATION time from his entrance .(c. 643, § 1). 12. Charitable subsidy for religious wotner~ (c. 643, § 2). The charitable subsidy consists of suitable clothing, personal effects, and a sum of money sufficient to enable a religious woman to return home safely and becomingly and to provid~ her with the means of a re-spectable livelihood for a period of time to be determined by mutual consent or, in the case of disagreement, by the local ordinary. The subsidy need not be prolonged beyond the time required for finding employment suitable to the condition of the former religious. If she is quite old and infirm and without resources, she must agree to enter" into a'suitable institution intended for persons of that condi-tion. The help given by her former institute need never have the~ character of a pension for life.19 Constitutions of religious women most rarely determine whether it is the institute, province, or house that is to furnish the subsidy. The matter.is therefore determined by the 'usage of the particular institute. The subsidy is to be given when the religious was received with-out a dowry or with a dowry insufficient for the purpose2° and cannot p~ovide for herself sufficiently from her own property. In " these circurfistances therefore the institute is obliged to give either the full amount of the subsidy or, in the event that the religious has some property of her own and/or a dov~ry insufficient for the purpose, the added amount necessary to equal the full amount of the subsidy. The ~ubsjdy has to be given to any ~eligious woman who leaves at the end of temporary profession or is then excluded from renew-ing temporary or making j~erpetual profession (c. 643, § 2), who is secularized during temporary or perpetual profession. (c. 643; § 2), or is dismissed during either temporary or perpetual profession (cc. 643, § 2; 647, § 2, 5°; 652, § 3). The code does not mention the subsidy in c. 653, which treats of s.ending a religious back im-mediat. ely and provisionally to secular life, nor in c. 646, which lists the crimes that effect theipso facto dismissal of religious. How-ever, the general canon on the subsidy is 643, § 2, which is evidently closely joined with the firs~ paragraph of the same canon. The latter lists dismisged religious without any restriction. The subsidy should certainly be given in the first case. It seems that it should also be given in the second case. It is not likely that the reli~gious is deprived of the su, bsidy because of the greater culpability of these crimes. The 19. Creusen, op. cir. n. 338; .]'ombart, op. cir., n. 908. 20. S. C. of Religious, Mar. 2, 1924: Bouscaren,.op. cir., I, 300. 235 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious ordinary dismissal of a religious wbman of perpetual vows demands culpable reasons, yet the code certainly commands that the subsidy-be given to all religious women dismissed in the ordinary manner. The canonical obligation of giving the subsidy is confined to religious women. However, an institute of men will practically al-ways have to give a subject in the same circumstances suitable cloth-ing, personal effects, and a sum of money sufficient to enable him to retu, rn home safely and becomingly; and equity and charity may oblige the institute to assist him financially until he secures em-ployment. 21 13. Special exctaustration (exclaustratio qualit~cata) o1: priests. This is, equivalently .a temporary laicization and secularization. Lai-cization deprives the cleric of the licit use of the power of orders, of clerical offices, rights, and privileges, and frees him of all clerical obligations except that of clerical celibacy and chastity attached to sacred orders (c. 213). The effects of secularization have been de-scribed above. In special exclaustration clerical and religious rights and obligations are not removed but'suspended for the time of the indult. This form of exclaustration is new and was introduced in the practice of the Holy See in October, 1953. It is confined to priests and may be granted only by the Holy See. The indult is generally given only on the petition of the subject or at least with his con-sent. It is likewise temporary and is usually granted only for a brief time, e. g., one or two years. Special exclaustration is a tem-porary and provisional remedy and ordinarily presupposes, tempor-ary reasons that will probably cease by its use. Typical cases are those of a serious crisis of faith, of disgust or fear "of the religious and priestly life, serious da,nger of public scandal or of apostasy from the priesthood or from fai.th, some physical infirmities, serious psy-chic disorders caused by the persuasion of a fundamental lack of aptitude for the priestly and religious life, depressive and scrupulous states, obstinate abstention from the celebration of Mass and from the sacraments caused partially, by infirmity and scruples, invincible repugnance to the exercise of the priestly ministry, and a secretly sinful life with consequent psychic depression and the persuasion that the life of chastity is impossible. The Holy See is ac,utely con-scious of the various dangers of this form of exciaustration and pro-ceeds prudently and cautiously in granting the indult and acts only 21. Cf. Woywood-Smith, A Practical Commentary on the Code of Canon Law, I, 323; Coronata, op. cir., 845; Cappello, Summa luris Canonlci, II, n. 630; ¯Regatillo-Zalba, De Statibus Particularibus, n. 254. 236 September, 1956 EXCLAUSTRATION AND SECULARIZATION ¯ after having obtained complete information of the course of life of the petitioner. The priest continues to be a member of his institute, and this constitutes the essential similarity to ordinary exclaustration. The obligation of all the religious 'vows is suspended, but that of clerical celibacy and chastity attached to sacred o~rders remains. All other clerical and religious rights and Obligations are s,uspended, all clerical ministry is forbidden, and the priest is in the state of a lay person with regard to the reception of the sacraments. The indult places him under the special discipline and assistance of the local ordinary and of the institute that he may be charitably guided to upright and be-coming conduct and be aided in overcoming the crisis. He is obliged to put off the external form of the religious habit, as in ordinary exclaustration and secularization, and be ii also forbidden to wear ecclesiastical garb. He retains the merely spi'ritual privileges of his institute but does not have any of the other rights nor active and passive voice. During the time 'of the indult he acquires property for himself and may and should provide his own support. Before leaving religion he is to give the superior a declaration that he will provide his own support during the exclaustr~tion without any ob-ligation on the part of the institute. Cases can occur in which this declaration will not be prescribed, and the institute in charity should support the subject insofar as he cannot do so himself. Superiors may receive the subject back into the institute before the expiration of the indult~ but the clerical privations remain intact. until the Holy See has given its decision. On the expiration of the indult, the priest is obliged to return to his institute and recourse is to be made to the S. Congregation for a decision of the case. Su-periors, however, may use the faculty of c. 606, § 2, and permit him to live outside the institute for a brief time until the S. Congre-gation decides the matter. The indult can also cease on" its revoca-tion by the S. Congregation, either on the petition of the subject or for a serious reason on the initiative of the S. Congregation. The indult likewise ceases on the granting of perpetual laicization, by the penal infliction of such laicization, e. g., in the case of public scandal, or by a petition for secularizatior~ when the priest has found a bishop who is willing to receive him according to the norm of c. 641. All of the above on special exclaustration is a synopsis of Gutiirrez, Commentari~m Pro Religiosis, 36 (1955), 374-79. The matter i~ briefly described also in Sartori, durisprudev.tiae Ecclesiasticae Ele-menta, 3 ed., 60-61. ~ 237 Mo!:her Dolores Sister M. Teresita, S.H.F. The story of the foundress of the Sisters of the Holy Famil'y THE sudden rush of the ambitious gold seekers of 1848 gave Cali-~ | fornia, and San Francisco in particular, a cosmopolitan Char-acter. But abreast with the adventurers came new recruits in the missionary field seeking the finer gold of precious human souls. Ireland supplied a great many zealous young priests who-were ready to sacrifice home and country. They came to minister to the spiritual wants of her children who followed the lure of gold to the far-away shores of the Pacific. Foremost among the early students of All Hallows' Seminar~, in Dublin was John J. Prendergast. Born in Clogh~e, County Tip-perary, Ireland, in 1834; Father Prendergast was ordained for the Archdiocese of San Francisco on June 26, 1859. His great talents and fervent piety marked him out as an extraordinary student. He was offered a place on the faculty of All Hallows. As he was or- .dained for San Francisco, the authorities communicated with Arch- 'bishop Alemany. To make sure of the Archbishop's permission, two priests were offered in place of Father Prendergast. The de-" cision was left to the newly ordained. He refused the honor and set out for the distant country, chiefly known to the gold hunter, the specul~tor, and adventurer. He arrived in San Francisco when it was in the throes of civil, reli~lious~ educational, and social disor-ganization. In the exercise of the sacred ministry, Father Prendergast met the poor, the unfortunate, as well as the newly rich. He frequently walked the streets of the rapidly growing metropolis sprung out of the sand dunes, the city built,on the hills. His priestly heart ached for the many children he found who were totally ignora.nt of the truths of the faith of their forefathers. The sudden growth since the gold rush. of '49 had far outstripped municipal facilities. Mission Dolores was the parish to which Father Prendergast was assigned. It covered two-thirds of the present area of San Fran-cisco. In taking the census, this ardent son of Erin found many of the children of the poor living in frightful conditions. Many, whose mothers were obliged to go out to work for their living, were left alone all day. They were locked in their backyards with a half losf of bread and a bottle of milk to suktain them. Daily, Father 'lSrayed 238 MOTHER ~OLORES for a solution to the problem and begged God to send a suitable person to inaugurate a systematic campaign among the poor and neglected families of his parish. It was in the sun.rsplasbed gardens of historic Mission Dolores that Father Prendergast first met the high s~0irited, vivacious Eliza-beth Armer. Elizabeth had accompanied Mrs. Richard Tobin to arra, nge to have Masses said for departed relatives. She was standing there beside her" dark-eyed foster mother, the morning sun shining on her golden crown of auburn hair. She carned her fifteen years with girlish dignity. The warm, radiant personality manifested in one so young impressed Father Prendergast. Father felt that Elizabeth, though still a young girl, was just the one to begin his work. When he was later transferred to the Cathedral parish, he secured her services as a religion teacher for the children. She also assisted in cariflg for the altars. Eagerly he watched the unfolding of this beautiful flbwer in God's chosen gar-den. Rapidly plans for a much-needed institute developed in his own mind. Elizabeth Armer came to us out ~f Sidney, Australia. Little is known of her ancestry or early childhood. She was born on April 30, 1851. Soon after she arrived on our shores with her family, her mother died. Her father, Robert Amkr, remarried. It was the oft-repeated story of the step-dhild. Richard Tobin, a friend of Robert Ar~mer, coming home from the office one~da~, said, "Mary; I have a surprise for you. I've brought you a new daughter." Mr. Tobin told his wife that she was the child ofhis.old friend Robert Armer and added, with, deep faith, "Mary dear, God will provide." And God did. Elizabeth was enrolled in the classes at Presentation Convent. Here she spent her happy" school days under the supervision and in-struction of the good Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. That Elizabeth developed such a well-adjusted personality, spite her early misfortune, was due to the sympathetic understand-ing of her new parents. The comforts of their luxuriant home on exclusive Nob Hill did not distract Elizabeth from her love of God and souls. She often met little folks on ,thestreet. She would ,stop them to talk with them. This tall, beautiful girl would ask, "Do you love God? Do you say your prayers? . But we don't know any prayers, Miss," they would answer. "'Come to our house and I will'help 239 " SISTER M. TERESITA Review [or Religious you to learn to love God and to talk to" Him." Soon, Elizabeth had gathered quite a group of children around her to "learn about God." Her foster father remarked that their home was beginning to take on the appearance of a kindergarten. However, Mr. Tobin good naturedly tolerated the invasion. Mrs. Tobin often accompanied Elizabeth on her visits to the homes of the poor. In the institute of which she was destined to be foundress, these early characteristic traits, zeal for sQuls, love for the poor, were to be its distinguishing marks. Alleviation o.f both material, and spiritual poverty, .especially in families, was to be its special work. Soliciting funds from the wealthy to aid the less fortunate was to be the means, of extending help. 'They would seek out the children who needed religious instruction. They would lend a helping hand where needed, to preserve the family. This apostolic social work and social-minded apostolate are the_constant endeavors of her spiritual daughters, today. In spite of her active participation in the lay apostolate, Eliza-beth yearned for a complete dedication of her life to God, Her per-sonal love of the Saviob drew her with such force that Elizabeth thought that God was calling her to be a Carmelite. The future foundress desired to do God's will rather than her own, which led her to consult the archbishop about her vocation. "Elizabeth," replied the saint!y'Archbishop Alemany, "Father Prendergast and I have another work for~ you to ~1o, There are the little ones to be cared for while their mothers are off to work. And who is to instruct the children of our big city in the ways of faith, hope, and love? They must be prepared "for the Sacraments; they must be brought to the knowledge, love, and service of God. There are the poor to be visited in their homes. There are hearts to heal and souls to save in our busy city streets. This, is the work Ggd wants you to do, Elizabeth." To give up the s.ecurity of a life in a long-established and well-ordered religious congregation! To launch out on the rough sea of uncertainty of establishing a new institute! Was this what God was asking?. With firm faith and steady heart, she gave herself with perfect trust into the care of God's representative. This same simple faith, ardent love; and child-like trust mzrked all her dealings with God and men throughout her beautiful but comparatively short life. Trials were. not wanting; for it is only in the crucible of suffer-ing that the pure gold of such a soul is tried. It was necessary that the edifice of the Holy Family institute (the eternal inheritance be- 240 September, 19~6 MOTHER DOLORES queathed by Mother Dolores to her spiritual children) had to rest on the solid foundation of deep humility. God was not long in sending the first trial. Elizabeth was now twenty years of age. The time had come for definite action. At the bidding of her archbishop and Farher Pren-dergast, she left her foster parents' home. With one companion, Miss Collins, she moved into a little rented flat on Pine Street on November 6, 1872. This is Foundation~Day. DaiI~ they went about the duties of caring for the poor, the sick, and the needy: From the outset, the idea of a religious com-munity was in the mind of the founders. They were to devote them-selves generously to the service of God in the children and the poor. Father Prendergast had very definite i~leas of the life and work off. the young institute. To visit the homes of the poor, to bring" relief to the sick, to seek out the neglected children in their families--these are goals in social work that cannot be too much insisted upon. There is danger in our modern projects, providing recreation grounds and community clubs and hikihg expeditions, to neglect the family. 'Father Pren-dergast's idea of assistance covered the whole field of need. "Help-ing others to help themselves," was to be the m6tto of his welfare work. These two energetic young women labored enthusiastically for some months. The good the future institute was to accomplish, in the designs of God, was to be far-reaching. The souls to Obe snatched from Satan were to be 'many. Of course, the devil did not like this. He had his own plan to kill this good work in its infancy. On the other hand, every good work must be tried in the crucible of tribulation: A soul as staunch and courageous as that of Elizabeth Armer must be refined yet more. One morni~ng Miss Collins failed to report for duty. When Miss Armer visited her room, there were visible, On the hands and feet of Miss Collins, the likeness of the wounds of the Savior. Ever straightforward and upright herself, Miss Armer did not doubt her companion's sincerity. The incident created quite a stir. Shortly after, however, on investigation, it was discovered that the wounds were self-inflicted. Miss Collins was dismissed. , The incid'ent is brief in the telling, but who can kno~v the de.ep wound in the soul of the trusting Elizabeth. The scorn that sur-rounded her young institute. The infidelity of one she loved and trusted. 241 SISTER M. TERESITA ~ Review for Religious Another joined Miss Armer for a time. But the work was too hard; the.scorn was too difficult to bear. Friends of Father Prender-gast advised him to give up the idea. One after another had failed. He only replied, "There is one who will never fail, Elizabeth Armer." These were indeed dark days for the young foundress. She never referred to it--this trial was one she bore alone. She leaned on God alor~e for support. She maintained the same zeal for works of charity, the same devotedness to the poor and to the children of the Sunday schools. She did not seek a moment to relax. Her visits to the sick poor continued as before. When she needed a companion, she al-ways knew where to find one in the ever-faithful Mrs. Richard Tobin. Nearly two years had passed since Miss Armer had begun her work in the little rented house on Pine Street. They had been years of struggle and discouragement. True, they had been fruitful of good, but barren as far as a religious community was concerned. Alone, "disappointed in one, abandoned by another," the future Mother Dolores prayed, labored, and trusted in God. Mrs. Tobin remained faithful and Father Prendergast maintained his confidence. Then renewed hope came. On lk-lizabeth's birthday, in 1874, there came a, caller. It had been Ellen O'Connor's third attempt to see Miss Armer. "You are my birthday present!" Elizabeth exclaimed, when Ellen told her that Father Andrew Cullen had sent her. "This morning I asked the" Blessed Mother to send me a present. Have you come to stay? . I hope so," was Ellen's reply. ,And she did. As Sister Teresa, Ellen became the lifelong companion of Mother Dolores and succeeded her as Mother General of the institute. The new enterprise had been marked with the cross, the sign of God'~ special favor. The youthful foundress had proved herself faithful. The work was readyto move fbrward.:. Very soon, other generous young girls came knocking at the door of the little rented convent asking, "May I help too?" The poverty of the flat did not seem to frighten them. The long .hours among the children did not seem to tire them. The night watches with the sick and dying did not make them change their minds. They had cgme to give their all to Christ. He was all in all to them! This was the generous, self-sacrificing spirit that animated those early sisters who were first known as "The Miss Armers." Father Prende~gast called them Sisters of the Holy Family. And that name has been made their own. In rapid succession, four young ladies came to. join Miss Armer 242 September~ 1956" MOTHI~R DOLORES and Miss O'Connor. Winter,was now past for the young institute, and God was blessing it with increase. Archbishop Alemany decided that ,steps should be taken to establish a regular religious congrega-tion. Miss O'Connor was sent to the Dominican Convent in Benecia to make her novitiate. In 1878, she pronounced her .vows as Sisger Teresa of Jesus, in the presence of the Archbishop and the sisters. Now the foundress became .subject and, with her four compan-ions, began her novitiate under the direction of Sister Teresa. They completed their required novitiate in March, 1,880. On the Feast of St. Joseph, faithful guardian of the Holy Family and special pro-tector of the institute, Sister Dolores and the four sisters pronounced their holy vows. The Sisters of the Holy Family were molded into a new congregation in the Church. California's' own; its first, and still its only, native religious institute. Alr~eady, as early as1878, Archbishop Alemany"entrusted a new field of labor, which had long been dear to his heart, to the infant community. They were asked to care for young children throughout the day, whose ~mothers were qbliged to work to support their, little ones. Ever mindful of the sacredness of the integrity of family life, the Archbishop saw in these Day Homes the fulfillment of his early plans. At first the sisters shared their own convent with these needy ones of Christ's flock and cared for them "'with the fender charity of a Christian mother~" In due time, four commodious Day Homes were erected in San Francisco through the industry .of the zealous sisters and the charity of kind benefactors. Abreast with catechetical work, the Day.Hgmes have since spread to San ,Jose, Oakland, and Nevada. From their new mother house on Hayes Street, these~ new, ly pro-fessed religi0us, now augmented by more members, carried on the apostolic work already well begun, They set out on their exalted and laborious mission of pushing back the frontiers of rel.igious ig-noranCe.~ The growing city of San Francisco was their first concern. Soon, pastors of parishes outside of San Francisco were asking for the sisters. They gathered th~ children together after school as well as on Saturday and Sunday rhornings. Sometimes classes were held in an unused store. At Tanforan~ race ,track, they held sessions in the pavillion where the children came to them on foot, on. horse-back, or in wagons. Stories could be multiplied without end, of the men and women, priests and religious, who trace their first desire to hear of Godtto the 243 SISTER M. TERESITA Review for Religious kindly invitation of these seekers of souls. This attraction which her sisters have fo~ children seems to be one of the priceless !e~acies Mother Dolores has bequeathed.to her f~mily. We might cal[ it the special sacramental character of their missionary vocation. These were the specific works of the new institute. However, Mother Dolores.was not slow to respond to emergencies. San Fran-cisco's P[esidio became the port for the sick and wounded soldiers during the Spanish American War. Suddenly the dread typhoid ,plagde broke out in the camps. Her sisters willingly volunteered for active duty as nurses. Mother Dolores herself prepared and provided many of the medic~i1 supplies during the three months in which the disease raged. A grateful city expressed its thanks to the valiant work of the many sisters who foughttthe plague by granting free transportation to all sisters on her street cars and buses, even to this day. The memory of the public service rendered by the sisters in this emergency prompted city officials to call upon them in the greater catastrophe of the 'terrible fire and earthquake of 1906. When the trembling city was licked with flames, the sisters could be found assisting the sick and dying. Their mother house became a hospital for the insane. The now homeless desuits found a tem-porary shelter 'on the main floor of the convent. In return, th~ey have given the mother'.house daily'~Mass ever since. The sisters' im-mediate and efficient, response to the city officials' appeal for help in San dose du.ring the influenza epidemic again manifested their alert-ness to the need for prompt and generous action in public calamities. Tireless in her efforts to save souls, Mother Dolores never spardd herself. The work. of organization and administration of her grgw-ing community was taxing her physical ~trength more than her sisters ~realized. A severe heart attack made it evident that Mother's condition was critical; she was'but.53 years old. Father Prendergast was called to her bedside. On seeing him, Mother simply said, "I am going." "No doubt you would like to see your work more~ per-fectly finished and carry out some 6f your plans before going to Heaven, to our Lord." She answered, "God knows best." So on August 2, 1905, her ardent souF in all its radiant splendor, like a restless flame, leaped from the charred remains of its burned-out temple, to the presence of her Creator, her Divine Lover. Mother Dolores was a product of her age and locale. She im-bibed the spirit of the adventurous gold seekers. By supernaturalizing 244 September, 1956 MOTHER DOLORES that spirit, she became an adventurous soul seeker. : Ever mindful of the necessity of adaptation to changing times, the progressive spirit of the foundress was passed on to her daughters. When modern means of travel proved helpful, they were used. The Sisters of the Holy Family were driving their own cars to distant missions when women drivers were still uncommon. Across the alkali beds of Utah, the deserts of Ne,~ada, or into its high moun-tain peaks they go. They use every means to bring the word of God to the ghost towns so reminiscent of the "Gold Rush." Now they contain only the precious ore of immortal souls. The populous cities witness their zeal in going from school to school during the day, teaching on released time. In the far~flung parishes of the Monterey-Fresno Diocese, they travel within the radius of forty-five miles of their convent home. They gather small groups in one-room schools of tile districts. Soon, a little chapel marks the spot and the Mass comes to another outpost conquered for Christ. Or, in the more populous areas, they assemble large groups, for which ~hey need the belp of a "walkie-talkie" to make themselves heard. Always seeking souls, the sisters will be found with the Mexican~ in Texas, extending the frontiers of faith among the~ Indians in Nevada, the Chinese in Fresno, the colored in our large c~ties, the Hawaiians in Hawaii. The young Americans from every state in the Union, who are pouring into our beautiful California in fabu-lous numbers, are feeling the impact of their religious training. Today, the daughters of Elizabeth Armer are laboring in three archdioceses and six dioceses. They are ~nstr~cting 79,000 public school Children in 225 parishes. Last year there were 1400 belated baptisms and 12,843 first Holy Communions. What a rich harvest of souls! Indeed, the fires of her zeal had inflamed many generous young women. The highways and byways,, the towering moun-t;~ ins and the lowly valleys, know the steady progress of this veri-table conflagration-~conquering one outpost after the other for Christ. The welfare work done among these families cannot be estimated. The Day Homes gave day care to 2,000 regardless of race, colo~, or creed during the past year. The same spirit of faith that SUlSported the pioneer sisters is re-flected in the constitutions of the institute "The special end is to instruct and educate children in the doctrine and practice of the Catholic faith . . ." 245 P. DE LETTER Review "for Religious Wl~en death claimed Mother Dolores on August 2, 1905, there was as yet no foundation outside of San Francisco. Mqnsign6r John J. Prendergast went to his reward on January 19, 1914. Pontifical approval was not requested until many years later, so it was not until-July 8, 1931, that the Holy See issued its decree of praise and approval of the" congregation and its constitutions, thus raising it to the status of a pontifical congregation. Monsignor Pren- ~dergast and Mother Dolores witnessed the crowning of their efforts from heaven when on May 28~ 1945, Pope Plus XII, gave tile definitive approbation, bidding the Congregation to ""continue to the~ end of,time." OnMet:hod in !:he Spiri :ual Life P. De Letter,,S. J. THE most common inconsistency is to desire some end and not to take the means to attain it" (Father de Pdnlevoye, S.J.). This applies particularly, though in no way exclusively, to the spiritual life. It happens, and perhaps it is not rare, that we wish for some certain ideal, desire a particular step forward in spirituality, and neglect to take the means. What is the root of this inconsistency? No doubt some sort of inertia-, of fear of effort. We fight shy of exertion. One takes it easy, and so nothing happens. ~We may not like to confess this sort of laziness. No one, no religious, especially, likes'to acknowledge he is lazy. Perhaps that is why not infrequently an endeavor is made to cover up this ihdecision and lack of action with theoretical difficulties. Perhaps the main difficulty in this re-spect is an objection against method in the spiritual life. For; if one were to follow a method, one would be doing something hbout one's intended objective. THE OBJI~CTION The objection is this: In, the spiritual or supernatural life, 'free-dom must be left to the Holy Spirit, to the initiative and inspiration of grace. It is not we who have to take'the initiative; it is the Spirit that takes the lead. Methods endanger 'the freedom of the Spirit who moves as He pleases; they may stifle the growth of the spiritual life, kill its spontaneity. Perhaps today a little more than formcrly this objection is raised, if not in theory then at any rate in practice; 246 September, 1956 ON METHOD IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFI~ it is acted upon. A number of people who yet try tO lead a spiritual life are inclined to care little for effort, for methodical application to prayer, or to the practice of definite virtues. They like to trust in the inspiration of the m, oment, to" follow the movements of grace rather than to forestall them. Lest this objection may actually turn into a cover for laziness, it is worth considering the issue. We shall do so and first consider method in general and then a concrete ex-ample of it, the Ignatian method. THE ISSUE: METHOD AND COOPERATION WITH (~RACE According to Father'de Guibert's Tl~eolog~ of the Spiritual ~Lit¥, n. 176, the use of method in the spiritual life, in prayer, or in the acquisition or practice of a virtue consists in baying some pre-fixed mode of action, suitable, fo? attaining an end and of application in a series of cases. In mental prayer, for example, it means that one prepares and foresees the subject matter and order of meditation, then starts with a progressive introduction to the subject, follows ,point by point using on'e's memory, understanding, and will--re-flecting, prayer, res, olving and ends with a colloquy. Andther ex-0 ample of use of method is the particular examen applied to the prac~ tice Of a virtue. One foresees what should be,done, how and when, resolves beforehand to pay attention and make the effort, and. tv~ice a day checks the way one went about it, examining success or. ill-success and its cause, resolving again 'to do better in tl4e next. half day. " Now, the problem involved in this use of method is that of our cooperation with grace. How must we conceive this cooperation? Tl~e spiritual life, being supernaturally inspired, actually is a matter of cooperation of our free will with grace, the latter leading, the first following~the lead of grace. It is beyond all doubt that in every; supernatura! activity it is grace that takes the initiative i(just a~ it is the reason of its spiritual fruitfulness and success, but this does not concern our present problem). And so the question is whether the use of method goes against the initiative of grace. Do We by'mak-. ing use of such methods as mentioned abbve take an initiative in the spiritual life that should be left to grace, to the inslAibation of the Holy Spirit? , ANSWER ~ We answer: The rigl~t use of method does not hinder the initia-tive of grace but is only ou'r way of cooperatirig ~with grace. When will the use of method be right? On two conditions: when it is 247 P, DE LETTER Review #:or Religious itself prompted by grace and when in its actual practice one does' not stick too rigidly to fixed details but follows eventual inspira-tions of grace that invite to greater liberty of spirit. 'The use of method can .be, and generally is, an answer to indi-cations that come from .grace. When duty calls to set exercises of prayer~ as when the bell sounds for meditation, or when providential ~ircumstances or genuine inspirations of grace (which are in perfect agreement with duties of obedience) invite to a particular practice of virtue, we may take it that to apply oneself methodically to prayer or to virtuous practice i~ merely to answer the initiative of grace. That is our way of cooperating with grace. There could be nothing but self-delusion in waiting for the promp.tin~s of grace to begin meditation when the hour of prayer is there. Method, used in these, circumstaF~ces,is but a guarantee that we are not wanting to grace but do our' share~ Yet in doing our share, enough freedom of mind must be kept for allowing grace to direct us whenever the Spirit so'chooses. A well-known example of this freedom is given in the directive of the Spiritual Exercises to the effect that in meditation we should stop at the poi,nt in which we find spiritual fruit, without any anxiety of going further, stop as long as we find what satisfies our spiritual need. This freedom and docility to the Spirit forestalls 6vet-rigid fidelity to mechanical rules. When grace clearly, takes the le~d, we follow. When the promptings of grace do not draw us, we on our part do what in us lies to answer the Lord's call expressed in our duty. When we understand the use of method in this manner, then Father de Guibert's practical conclusions in the matter are in no way surprising. He says: To reject all method is unsafe and may amount to the error of quietism; the inspirations of ~grace duly known for. authentic (by the discernment of spirits) may be followed, not how-ever against obedience or clearly known duty; the use-of method, generally speaking, is beneficial, because it is" nothing else" than profit-ing by the experience and wisdom of other people and using the r~eans for the end; methods may and do vary greatly, and freedom must be left in using them, the main point being that one has some method which proves workable; exaggerations however are not ex-cluded, one of which may be undue self-reliance shown in. excessive trust in the efficacy of or~e's method. Such being the case, it may be'well for us religious now and. then to see in which direction the general trend of our spiritual life in- 248 Septemb~er, 1956 ON METHOD IN ,THE SPIRITUAL LIFE clines: are we inclined either to overstress method or to neglect it? The danger of neglect may be the more frequent, because of the ef-fort and monotony involved in methodical action, both of which, may look uninteresting and unappealing. Yet, the other extreme of a too-mechanical fidel~ty is not excluded, nor is it without a danger of turning prayer or virtue into a more or' less fruitless for-mality. IGNATIAN METHOD One of the well-known and much,spread methods in the spiritual life is that of St. Ignatius of Loyola. Perhaps it has been no less maligned than praised. What exactly does Ignatian method consist in? We may characterize it briefly in a feW words: Have an objective in view and take the means to achieve it. Or, more briefly, know what you are after and go for it. What do these two principles mean in practice? How do they respect the initiative that must be left to grace? It is worthwhile to ponder a moment over this simple method~ and see how it enhances rather than hinders the initiative of grace. FIRST PRINCIPLE Its first principle, have a purpose in view, is of the utmost im-portance in spirituality, as in every other field of human activity. In fact, many people oftentimes do not know~ what they are after what they do, say, desire. They do what they do because they have to, or because they feel like doing it, or because they must do something to spend their time and for no reason known to then~ they happened to hit on this particular occupation. Such a manner of living may be little respectful of a man's rational nature; it cer-tainly is not Ignatian at all. St. Ignatius means us to know and to desire .what we intend in prayer or mortification-~or for that mat-ter, in study or manual labor or recreation or social relations. And he wants us to be very definite about our objective. For meditation, he not only begins the exercise with a preparatory prayer in which we ask that our entire activity.during our prayer be directed to God's glory and service; in a, second (or third) preclude he makes us ask for "what we desire," his famous id quod volo, that is, for the par-ticular grace and spiritual fruit which is suggested by and. in con-formity with the subject matter of the meditation. Definiteness of ai~n in prayer is a first Ignatian principle. Does it gb against" the initiative that belongs to grace? On the face of it, it may look as though we ourselves settle beforehand what spiritual fruit or grace we are after; is that not to take the lead and 249 P. DE LETTER Reoieto for Religious to put limits and rules to the activity 6f the Holy Spirit? Is that not a sort of Semi-Pelagianism? The question has more than once been mode :into an accusation, partly perhaps when some hasty or unsym-pathetic reader overlooked what precedes the id quod uolo, namely, to.ask for what I desire. We may point to a threefold answer to this difficulty. First of all, we are directed to ask for the grace we desire; and we may safely take it that this desire and prayer itself is already prompted by grace--is not every salutary act which helps us spiritually to draw nearer to God, and prayer is such an act, a fruit of ~the inspiration of grace? This prayer, moreover, is as it were open to correction; it is' up to God's grace to answer our desire --it is not our effort alone that will carry or enforce it--and to an-swer it in the manner He pleases and knows best. Secondly, the very specification or determination of the grace we ask for is, in principle and generally also in fact, not the result of personal whim or fancy (barring perhaps the exceptional cases of impulsive and weather-cock- like characters who lack or neglect due preparation and fore-' sight) ; it is either provided by external providential indications, as is the case in retreat time or when we use a meditation manual, whether prescribed or advised by a director or even chosen on our own motivated decision, or suggested" by internal inspiration. Of grace. In all these cases, this prayer for a particular grace is but an answer to the initiative of grace. Lastly, this initial desire which to a varying extent inspires the very manner in which we apply our-selves to our prayer does not preclude any new promptings of grace that may and often do arise in the course of the exercise. The above-mentioned Ignatian rule about freedom in stopping at what satisfies the soul clearly entails this. Moreover~ the ~d quod ~olo is often of such a comprehensive nature that it leaves ample and free play to. the manifold and varying inspirations of grace. An example is the prayer made at the beginning of most meditations on the life of our Lord: that we may know Him better, love Him more ardently, and follow Him more closely. This is an ide~il which each particular soul will realize in his or her own p~irticular way--and there are as many various ways nearly as there are particular individuals ~and particular vocations. Futhermor.e, tfiis definiteness in asking for a particular grace is mainly a matter of psychological preparation and should not be misunderstood in the sense of dictating to grace. As in any other human uladertaking, so also in prayer; definiteness of aim makes for definiteness in efforts; and this guarantees definite results, just as vagueness of aim leads to vague and weak efforts~ 250 - September, 1956 ON METHOD IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFE and vague and poor results., Accordingly, it is safe tO say that Ig-natian definiteness of aim in our prayer does not clash with the initiative due to grace, provided 0nly we handle our method with a pure intention and with the necessary freedom of spirit. This free-dom is perhaps less fo be attended to in the beginnings of a life of ¯ prayer or of religious training; beginners generally do well to follow directives closely. But after years of practice, experience should teach one what this freedom means, and how it opposes in no way thorough generosity. So much for the first: principle in the Ignatian method~. SECOND PRINCIPLE The second principle; take the means to the purpose you are after, implies mainly two things. It first means to say that we should make the necessary effort. We should not expect results without taking the means that must produce them. Perhaps it is very l'Juman (or must we say childish?) to rely on ,good luck whilst, neglecting what one should do, to hope: and expect that' things will turn out for the b~st somehow. Children in fact more or less expect"miracles to happen. But is tha.t reasonable and safe? Is it not overlooking one of the very first principles of reason: that every effect demands a sufficient and proportionate cause? Which means, in this case, that spiritual results suppose ~not only grace but also our cooperation. It is rather risky to count on a ~ause that may Well never act; in this particula'r case, to rely on abundant grace which would mal~e up for our lack of. diligence; all the more so, since this very unprepared-hess for cooperation with grace is likely, to preclude that grace--God does not dispense His graces in sheer waste. A.second thing implied in this principle, is that we should make a tolanned effort: go about our business, whether of prayer or of any other virtuous practice~ in an orderly manner and not haphaz'ardly: not in an unenlightened way, groping as it were in the dark; not according to an unmotivated manner of proceeding or according to whim and fancy of the moment. This supp,oses first that we know the means for our purpose as they are laid down in directives and rules or borne out by the experience of others or even' learned and confirmed by personal experience. We must know the rules of the game if we are to play properly. It means therefore that it is not enough, however important it may be in itself, to overcqme inertia and set oneself to one's, task, making the needed exertion. We must apply ourselves in a clear-sighted manner, knowing what we are doing and why. It further means that we follow the known direc- 251 P. DE LETTER rives with perseverance. It has been said that "with many, courage gives way when they are half way of the effort; some are afraid of trying, others are afraid of succeeding"; in fact "things are worth what they cost" (Fat, her de Ponlevoye). Yet this perseverance should not be marred by shortsighted stubbornness.We must never forget in practice the necessary freedom of spirit in following methodidal rules; rather we must be ever ready to obey the inspiration of grace, to learn from circumstances and from experience, with humility and, docility, with sincerity and honesty with ourselves. It ma~ not al-ways be easy in practice to find the proper balance bet,ween perseverant fidelity to rules and freedom of spirit or docility to the Spirit. Only the interior Guidi~ can teach it in practice, and He certainly will if we do not lack sincerity and generosity. When this necessary freedom of spirit is safeguarded, there is no fear that metbodital application to prayer or practice of virtue, according to rules and planned action, will make one too mechanical or kill the spontaneity of life needed also in the spiritual life. Method makes for orderly activity; it excl'udes a happy-go-lucky manner which actually is more a lack of readiness to cooperate with grace than the contrary. Method does not kill spontaneity; it directs it, if only one uses it properly, that is, with t?reedom of spirit and sincerity. Nor does it then in any way hinder the initiative of grace which must be respected also in the course of our prayer or practice of virtue. It is part of the method ever to be docile to what grace may show or demand. And so, if tile use of metho~d in the spiritual life is rightly un-derstood and put into practice, that is, as the very expression of our desire to answer the call of grace, then certainly it will never stand in the way of grace. It will guarantee our cooperation with God's grace and leave no excuse for inertia or lazine.ss. Grace do.es not dis-pense with our effort, it renders our effort possible and fruitful. " 252 NEW BUSINESS ADDRESS Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3115 South Grand Boulevard St. L~uis 18, Missouri Sisters' Re!:rea!:s--V Thomas Dubay, S.M. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE RETREAT MASTER ]F it is possible to assay the general mind of the sisters as expressed in their thousands of answers and observations given in this re-treat study, the present writer would be inclined to point out the subject matter of this article, the retreat master himself, as consti-tuting what they consider the single, most-imporant element covered in the survey. The sisters often cast this general impression into a concrete mold. Observed one sister: There is one order whose technique I prefer over the others and one whose method I like least. Yet the best retreat master I ever had was from the latter! The man makes the 'retreat master, not the method! Time and time again the sisters retur~ in their comments to the retreat master, his message, his methodology, and especially his qual-ities or lack of them. And yet we frankly grant that we approach this most difficult of the subjects treated in the survey with consider-able diffidence. It is difficult because it deals with persons, not mere things, But there is nothing like the truth, anO so we will plunge in. QUALITIES In order to ascertain what qualities the sisters especially looked for in their retreat masters, the following question was placed before 'them : Among the following characteristics of ~a retreat master would you put the number 1 before the one you appreciate most, a 2 before the next in order, etc. to the last: __experience ._._~sense of humor genuine sanctity __theological learning ~kind manner ~practicality Further comment: (spice provided) Unlike their modus aqendi in the other survey questions, the sisters did not here mention man.y new qualities in the blank spaces. Simplicity, humility, and interest in work were noted twice, while the following qualities were mentioned once each: clarity, sweetness and patience, sincerity, .understanding of women, average speaking ability, and intelligence. In order to differentiate as finely as possible the varying degrees of importance, which were attached to the qualities contained, in 253 THOMAS DUBAY . Reuiew for Religious the questionnaire, three points were given to th'e quality eachsister first selected, tWO points to the second, and one point to the third. In parentheses are indicated the number of times each characteristic w'as given first choice. Genuine sanctity . 1481 (414) Practicality . 786 (100) Experience 693 (71) Theological.learning .496 (63) Kindness . 360 (23) Sense of humor . 'i. 225'(10) As can be easily seen, there is really no contest for first 'place. The very fact that gefuine sanctity received more first place votes than all other characteristics put together clearly demo~astrates the fact that sisters want their retreat masters to be men of God before ;Ill else. Practicality is rated as a little more important thar~ experiehce, while knowledge of theology is given the nod over kindness and a sense of humor. The reader may be interested in comparing tile above rating of qualities with the various comments the sisters have made (or will make) in other articles of this series. The correlation 'is significantly high, We are thus rendered all the more certain that our survey has accurately captured their collective mind. We will give typical excerpts of the sisters' further comments according to tee alphabetical order in which the qualities .were listed on the survey form. Experience-- [I select experience] because if he has survived in this type of work, he should be" good.' Father, this is a hard one. They should all be first. A retreat master need not have years of experience in order to conduct a successful retreat: Sometimes those with most experience can be very dry and not at all practical. By ekperience I would understand his dealing with people, not the number of retreats he has conducted. I take by experience You mean with souls and religious life. I also appreciate it when he. makes [sic] a spade a spade and leaves nff loop holes for if's or ,but's. Genuine sanctity-- It has been my conclusion that the best thing any retreat master has to give is his own personal example. The convictions with which he approaches his own spir-itual life necessarily,shdw through his efforts to instruct-.others and in this lies his greatest appeal at least for me. 254. September, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--V The personal holiness of the retreat master is by far the most impoltant characteristic. "We thunder what we are" and I think this is particularly true of retreat masters. A priest who says Mass slovenly, and has a worldly manner, etc., can hardly expect his hearers to be "refOrmed" or uplifted in spirit regardless of how perfect his con-ferences may be. A genuine saint might be a very poor retreat master, if he is unable to express himself effectively~ and lacks the theological learning necessary to instruct and guide others to sanctity. Experience and practicality should help a retreat master in making the best use of the short time ;it his disposal to cover the necessary points. Sanctity is most important, however, because without it, the insincerity" would be obvious and detract from the effectiveness of'tl~e speaker. Of all the retreats I have made, three are outstanding and have affected my spiritual life most, as far as I can judge. In each case it was the personal sanctity .of the retreat master that gave these retreats their form and impetus. . A doer of the wo~d as well as preacher carries more weight than any other quality [ know. Sometimes the good effects are lessened by a discovery" that Father preaches but does not live what he advises. The tirlge of pharisaism is usually detrimental. A genuine saintly retreat master by his very presence is a light to the beholder: his example gives inspiration, and a desire to be like him and draws or attracts the at-tention of the listener. His teaching is naturally as be lives: therefore very ac- Ic elpiktaeb tloe fbeye al ltlh oart mthoes tr eotfr ethaetsm m.aster is really doing what he is asking us to do. Sanctity radiates a something that neither intelligence or humor can replace. I've made retreats given by saintly men after which I was ready to sign up with a Foreign Legion or for China if I were asked to .do sd. If a man is genuinely holy, the rest doesn't matter. If God has thrown in a sense of humor, the man's mighty lucky'. Father, many sisters lead deeply spiritual lives and we are not so interested in your learning as such, as we are in knowing that you firmly live and believe your doc-trine. We want you learned but in the end it is your own spiritual life that tells. Many retreat masters fail to stress holiness as intimate union with God. We thirst for the fountains of living water. We want solid doctrine. We want you to fire us' with enthusiasm. We are not bored or critical when you speak. We are intent upon gaining a spiritual lift. Don't apologize for repeating the same material. We are not looking for novelty. If we knew you prayed out all your meditations be-fore Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, we would have great faith in your spoken words. I have watched 4.8 retreat masters come and go, and observed the sisters,, making retreats, heard their reactions, attended conferences when possible and there is one answer: personal sanctity. Kind manner-- One who is kind and understanding in confession--and who asks. if there is any-' thing else on your mind. Sometimes tha't last question is just what one needs! I think if a retreat master has real genuine sanctity and a kind manner, whatever else is lacking God will supply the rest. Please don't close the slide or glee absolution before sister has told her story and received some satisfaction. I am not referring to a scrupulous soul. 255 THOMAS DUBAY "Reoieto for Religio~ PracticalitF-- I like a retreat master who can "talk" to us and be practical in the applications he makes. A clear cut set of ideas is what I always hope to find in a retreat. A retreat master who sets down principles to live our daily lives by and who makes us toe the mark and set out with new determination to seek perfection with God's help d~es a greatest ot: services. Some seem to avoid the practical problems of religious life. They don't get down to the core of the matter, even in discussing the vows. Make them practical! Not the extraordinary, once in a lifetime act of obedience, but the everyday type, the everyday needs of each vow. Occasions of sin, etc. Most Of us cduld actually write a volume on the theory of sanctity. It has been well explained, but maybe we could have more practical hints to help us practice what we .know. Sense of humor-- A good sense of humor in a retreat master makes for a good retreat. The dry kind never appeal to me. A retreat to me, is a joy, not a dry thing'. A sense of humor is O.K., especially on a very hot day to keep you awake, but Sacred Scripture should not be used to make fun. By sense of humor I understand having a proper evaluation of things, ability to see,and enjoy a joke~not necessarily "full of jokes." Theological learning-- The choice of I and 2 is a difficult one for the "Spirit breatheth where He wills." However, in the analysis of problems, judicious decisions to be made. delicate situ-ations to handle and the like the educated theologian has much to offer. A certain confidence is generated. God can ~use a stick to work wonders. I think all of these necessarily link together because theological learning could not be passed over to some of us without sanctity, experience, practicality, and a sense of humor. We can really presume en~ough theological learning in any religious set aside to give retreats to nuns. A real absence of theological learning would be worse than an absence of sanctity--but a lot of learning carries small weight with nuns with-out genuine holiness behind it. In the last analysis it is only holiness as concretized in another person which can inspire. But sanctity lending weight to incomplete or misapplied doctrine can do harm. General comments-- This is difficult to answer because he needs them a11, at least in some degree~ Nuns like humility in a retreat master, but not a "scared" attitude or one of"'you-know- it-all-already--what can I tell you" attitude~ We do not know very much. He should sound convinced. A sister can tell whether a retreat master is giving.a retreat merely because of duty or whether he honestly loves the sisters and wants to help them advance along 256 September, 1956 SISTERS~ RETREATS--V the road to perfection, understanding their problems no matter how small they may be. Fatherly is the characteristic I like best of all. One to whom you can speak with ease, knowing and realizing that he has your interest (souls) at heart. Very difficult to decide--would like to have all in one. , One final word on the qualities of the retreat master. As has been indicated in a p~evious article, sisters, teaching in college lay a heavier emphasis as a gioup on their need for theglogy. The' writer noted the same stress here on the importance of theological learning in the retreat master. Among the var, ious qualities of the retreat master, a knowledge of theology is the only one that received an emphasis that was noticeably different according to the work in which' the sisters en, gag~d, DEFECTS Often enough pointing out deficiencies is little short of,.unpleas-ant, and it so happens that our present task is decidedly such. How-ever, St. Thomas speaks of fraternal correction as a spiritual alms, an act of charity. For that reason and because the sisters so intended their observations in a lovely spi'rit of combined kindness and frank-ness, we move with less hesitation to the business at hand. The question dealing with defects was worded as follows: What characteristic do you dislike most in a retreat master? Please place hum- . bet 1 before the one you dislike most, etc. Further comment : t No suggested defects were offered to the sisters. The writer feels that more objectivity was thus secured for the reason that a defect would have to make a considerable impression on a sister if she was to be able to recall it unaided. It would have had to be real. This "no suggestion" technique gave rise on the other hand to a ~wide'variety of noted failings. These we have tried to reduce to common categories as far as possible, but accuracy forbade too drastic a reduction. Hence, the sizeable list below. After each obs.erved defect, is given the number of tirffes it was mentioned. The figure in parentheses indicates the number of times the failing was listed as "disliked most." Statements under each heading are characteristic ways in which the sisters styled the defect. Reading conferences an~t meditation expos~.s . 176 (83) 257 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious Reading the retreat--slave to notes--reading entire conference--r~ading notes in-stead of talking. Lack of interest . 93 (28) Sense of boredom (I'm here because of obedience)-~cold, factual 16resentation-- "job attitude"-~a no interest attitude-~-doing something assigned and no mor~-- listless, sleepy, dull. , Conceit . 81 (35) Desire to make an impression~know-it-all attitude--attracts to himself--better-than- thou attitude-~c0cksureness--aloofness---ccnstant reference to himself-~go-tism. Verbosity . 71 (15) Long and rambling--talks and talks and says nothing--nev.er getting to the point-- endless repetition --- d0esn't keep to the schedule--long windedness. Sarcasm, ridicule .¯ . 68 (31) Making fun of problems of sisters of other communities--rididule of superiors-- sarcastic manner--sarcastic approach. ,Joking manner . . 59 (19) Too many jokes--keeps retreatants in an'uproar-~clowning~trying to be funny --a joker. Impracticality . 57 (12) Examples that don't fit o~ur work-~-prlnciples without examples---out-dated. Severity . : . 56 (13) Hell fire and brimstone gloomy--fills with fear rather than love--harsh---blunt expres,sions--six days of scolding. Confessional defects . 50 (9) Impatient.-not available--fast--harsh-~curt--not helpful~talks too loud--no in-terest in the Confessional--indifference to problems. Delivery defects . 47 (11) Talks too fast--inaudible--shouting, ranting-r--muttering, indistinct too slow in .speech--hilting, hesitating---cannot heat him. Superficiality ' .42 (5) La~k of material to communicate--superficial flippancy--shallow--greats retreat lightly--too many ideas .at one time--lightnes~ of treatment--banality lack of theological basis--ignorance theologically unsound. Emotionalism and dramatic manner . . 40 (8) Oratorical---excessive emotion--flowery langfiage--sentimentalism in choic~ of poems, prayers, etc.--too many gestures--unnecessary play on words. Lack of preparation . .,. . . 40 (15) Unpreparedness---lack of organization--lack of immediate preparation. 258 September, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--V Excessive intellectuality .". . . 39 (15) Subjects too deep--explainer of theology too philosophical--theological learning' --bookish conferences--high sounding explanations~ Critical spirit in general .3.4. .(10) Chip on the shoulder---critical spirit--pet grievances---critical toward his own corn: re.unity or supenors-~constant scolding-~criticism of sisters studying for degrees--, Cynical" spirit. Lack of sense of humor .: . . . 34 (10) Too serious--gloomy--never a sense of humor. Critical spir'it toward sisters .3.1. (6) Belit'tling nuns--atti.tude that religious are frustrated-~-' unfriendly toward our com-munity-~ critical toward sisters--lack of respect for religious women--making fun of nuns-~critical of our rule, constitutions, and customs--says he dislikes giving retreats to sisters. Worldliness .~. . .~ . 29 (7) Lack of spiritual depth--too l~lasi--play boy type~lacks ho!iness-~easy going-- selfish. Narration of personal experie,nces . 26 (8) Too much personal reference--talking about what they have done-~-~introducing himself and his beloved relatives --- details of family history. Lack of kindness .,. .25 (5) o Harsh, unkind, especially in the confessional--unapproachable--unsympathetic. - Condescension toward sisters . 21 (4) Acting as though we can't understand him--talking down to women-~condescend-ing toward nuns-~belittles the intelligence of nuns and hence waters, down doctrine --treats sisters as beginners in the spiritual life, ' Negative approach .1.5. (4) Too much sin, no love--stressing the negative--emphasis on God's justice. Lack of understanding .1.4. (1) Doesn't understand human nature--lack of understanding of nuns and their problems. In or, der neither to prolong our list beyond due m~asure nor to deny the sisters' views full recognition, we will treat the remaining de-fects in paragraph form and indicate only the total number of times each failing was mentioned. Defects in examples (lack .of, exag-gerated, too many), 14; narrating faults~and scandalous stories re- ~arding other religious, 12; mannerisms and idiosyncrasies, 12; brev-ity, 12;language defects (crude, coarse, slang, grammatical errors), 11 ; nervous and timid ' (restless, fidgeting), 11 : not looking :at audience, 10; inexperience, 8; apodictic, 8; insincerity (affected sanc- 2:59 THOMAS DUBAY ~ Review /or Religious tity, not practicing what he preaches), 8; lack of originality (espe-cially in illustrations and expressions), 8; too familiar, 8; watering down spiritual life, 7; slovenly at Mass, 6; no theme in the retreat, 5; late for. conferences, 5; too eager to please, 4. Subjects receiving three mentions were vagueness, rigid retreat routine, self-depreciation, effeminacy, and excessi;ce praise of sisters. Those noted twice were curiosity and p~ying, stress on unimportan.t matters, loud speaking in the convent, neglectof the liturgy; and provincialism. A few of the many items mentioned by only one sister were immaturity, use of cliches, preoccupation with a favorite subject, lack of refinement, joking about sacred things, and use of pietistic expressions. We must not fail to note that 208 sisters chose not to answer this question. While we cannot be sure just what their reasons may have been, it seems likely that some sisters simply could not recall any outstanding defects. Others may have thought it unkind or unappreciative to record defects of their retreat masters. These latter we may admire even though we, do not agree with them. Whatever the reasons may be, more sisters abstained from replying to this question than abstained from any other. In other questions thus far treated in this series of "articles, .we have given representative excerpts from the sisters' further comments, but for the present question any attempt to be really representative would far exceed the bounds of one article. We will, therefore, limit ourselves to excerpts characteristic of some of the more-frequently mentioned defects. Reading notes-- [ also do not like for the retreat master to read his conferences. He may wish to refer to notes,, but he should have his material so well at his finger tips that he cari deliver it without reading. Some are far from interesting. It is a real penance to sit through six days of listening and straining while someone drones away from some notebook. The only real dislike is toward the retreat master who rea,ds all his talks. I don't say he can't have notes, etc., but the reading of entire lectures and meditations has simply no effect. I'd rather ten minutes of a straight talk. Lack' of interest-- The worst fault is perhaps an attitude of mere tolerance of this job of giving nuns a retreat. The sooner it's over the better! Sisters look forward to their annual retreat with eager anticipation for months, and most of them really do want to progress in the spiritual life. It is a big dis-appointment when they have to listen to a retreat master who apparently does not care for this type of work. 260 September, 1956 SISTERS" RETREATS--V Conceit-- One who calls attention to himself --- the 'T'--more than necessary in conferences. Shows off his intelligence and forgets retreatants also have some. Sarcasm-- Sarcasm and ridicule of women in general and of riuns in particular. Critical negativism-- If there is any observation I should like to make it is this: whatever you can do to dissuade retreat masters for sisters from flavoring their conferences, meditations, and talks with stories exemplifying the ¢ricities and quirks of sisters--usually these apply to only a relatively few--please do . There is nothing so devas-tating and So harmful, it seems to me, than just, that t~;pe of story. If our youth-~ ful entrants grow cynical, distrustful, perhaps even weak in their vocation, may it not be because of the unwise, imprudent choice of illustrations chosen by retreat masters? True, there are odd sisters, but for every odd one, there are at last eight or more sensible, normal ones. Why select the queer and rarely allude to the truly noble and fine in every sense' of the words? Young people are shocked, and rightly so, at the strange things they sometimes hear. "It may~ be that retreat masters wish to be entertaining, amusing. But at what a cost! Ours is an age in which reverence is fast wanifig. Couldn't it help to a restoration' if retreat masters were occasionally more reverent? Tendency to overemphasize the fact that disagreements and petty jealousies do occur in religious life. We know they do, but there are plenty of sisters who are outstand-ing examples of beautiful si?terly charity as well as communities ,where the spirit of charity is outstanding. Joking manner-- What the sisters need is practical help toward sanctity . . : , but too often the" maste? uses the shell of the pulpit to reflect Father Retreat Master instead of the will of God to his listeners. This is especially true of the "joker" who uses the time for his stories and leaves the sisters with nothing to take with them except mem-ories of his cleverness. Severity.--- Pounding, scolding, and "yelling," though I don~t mind being told the truth,--- but not so loud! Lacl~ of understanding~ Sometimes the retreat master forgets that the sisters have more to do than just say their prayers. He should look into the entire picture and help both'subject and superior. Some retreats the subject gets all the corrections, and then sometimes the superior is all to blame. Why not lead all to God by charity, patience, and a. kind understanding of our difficulties? I think community life is a far happier and "homey-er" state than some retreat masters imply. After 29 years of it, under 16 different superiors, I can say I've never lived in a house where happiness and virtue didn't far outweigh human failings and "blue Mondays."--(I'm a realist, not an optimist!) 261 THOMAS DUBAY We now have the happier task of noting a few of the unsolicited compliments rciany of the sisters paid their retreat masters. To neg-lect these and dwell on defects alone would be to give the reader a badly distorted' picture of the whole situation. As is usu~ally the case in human affairs, all is neither black nor white. Among the favorable observations made, the following are characteristic. Most retreat masters are sincere, earnest, and holy. We can make allowances for lack of absolute perfection. If a retreat master is sincere and works hard I¯can't dislike much in him. I have had none whose characteristics made me.lose the value of retreats. I never really thought about this [defects], for I can truthfully say and I thank God for it, I enjoyed every one of my retreats. I learned something every time, betause I was looking for something. I have never had a dislike for a retreat master. I see in him God's messenger for my soul, who will only do his best to bring me nearer to God. I have observed no serious undesira~01e characteristics. Actually I have liked every retreat and every retreat master in my twenty years in religion. These very minor dislikes are:mentioned only to indicate how trivial are the things we let get between us and the message of the retreat. Heavens! I don't know--I've never stopped to think. I always figure the poor man is doing a job that's hard enough without our being critical; He's out to help us and we ought to help him to help us. I'm told, '~It's easier to criticize a retreat master than to be one." Most retreat masters have the necessary characteristics requisite for such important work--God bless them! And we might add: God bless these'sisters! both those who in fraternal charity pointed out defects and those who in the same charity saw none to, point out. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor ~f canon law at Woodstock College, Wood-stock,, Maryland. SISTER M.TERESITA is stationed at the Holy Family. Motherhouse, 890 Hayes Street, San Francisco, California. P. DE LETTER is a member of the faculty of St: Mary's Theological College, Kurseong N. E. Ry., India. THOMAS DUBAY teaches philosophy at the Notre Dame Seminary, 290l S. Carrolhon Ave., New Orleans, Louisiana. 262 ( ues .ions and Answers [The following answers are given" by Father Joseph F. ~allen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College. Woodstock, Maryland.] I am guiding a young man who is entering our own institute. He casu-ally remarked to me that his family wanted him to sign over his mor3ey to his brothers and sisters before entrafice. By careful questioning I learr~ed that his money amounted to several thousand dollars. Should he sign over th~s money to others before his entrance? A renunciation'is the giving away, the gratuitous, abdication of the ownership of property. An obligation is any act by which own-ership is lessened, rendered less secure, or impeded, e. g., putting up property as security for the debts of others. Can. 568 renders both illicit and invalid any renunciation or obligatmn placed on the prin-cipal of his property by a novice. The canon applies only to the noviceship, but it" is contrary to the spirit of this same law for a renunciation or obligation to be placed on the property of a candi- .date during the postulancy or before entrance becafise of the inten-tion of entering religion. The purpose of c. 568 is to protect the novice's right to. leave religion and to prevent him being, deterred from doing so because he had given away his property. This reason applies equally to the time before the noviceship. Therefore, postu-lants and candidates should in practically every case be dissuaded from any renunciation or obligation. 'The professed of simple vows may give away the income on his property even after first profession. He c6uld later ask the Holy See for permission th give away all or part of the principal of his property, if there should be real need of this; and the solemnly professed will have to give away all his prop-erty at the renunciation effective at solemn profession. Relatives are not often selfless in a case of thi~ nature. It is also at least becoming for those in or approaching the state of perfection, if they are to give away any property, to follow the counsel of perfection, which is not to give to relatives but to give to the poor. A postulant was in danger of death. Could he have been admitted to the profession that is ~ermiffed to novices in danger of death.'? A plenary indulgence in the form of a jubilee is attached to the profession permitted to novices, and this profession also requires ad-mission by a higher superior, the superior of the novitiate house, or the delegate of either. This profession is restricted to novices and" 263 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Revidw [or Religious may not be granted to a postulant. However, canon law does not forbid professed religious, novices, and postulants to make private vows (c. 1307, §' 2). Such vows are most rgrely advisable for them, and should never be made without consulting a confessor who is prudent and sufficiently conversant with the habitual state of soul of. the subject. There would rarely be any reason for opposing a private vow by a postulant in danger of death. Therefore, the postu-lant in danger of death can be instructed that he may, make the vows of the institute completely of his own volition. There is no ad-mission in this case on the part of superiors, and the indulgence is not attached to this profession. The essential effect of the profession granted to novices is .attained, i. e., the greater oblation of oneself to God and the co.nsolation of the postulant. In this case also, the or-dinary formula of profession of the institute "is to be used but with-out any determination of time. The implicit duration of the vows is until the postulant zecovers his health. If he does, the vows cease; and he is in exactly the same state as if he had taken no vows what-soever. Cf. Wernz-Vidal, III,.De Reli~liosis, 258-59, note 71. m32-- Is it canon law or merely our own constitutions that forbid the assign-ment of any but exempla, r¥ religious to the novitiate house? Is it always possible to observe this prohibition? Can. 554, § 3, commands higher superiors to assign only ex-emplary religious to novitiate houses. The evident reason is the in-fluence that the lives of the professed.can exert on the novices. The sense of this law is that religious who are not exemplar.y must not be assigned for habitual residence to the house in which the novitiate is located. The code presumes that ,only the master and his assist-ants will reside in the novitiate itself. In clerical institutes the same prescription of the code extends t6 houses of study. Lay i~astitutes should be directed by the same principle with regard to the houses where the professed of temporary vows reside during studies. Every effort is to be made to observe this law, of the code, but it is quite often impossible in practice to send a refractory religi0us to any house except the novitiate house. The religious' at times has to be removed from contact with externs, and even more frequently he or she simply has to be sent to a very large community. Religious of this type can make life impossible for a smaller community. In cases ¯ of this nature, superiors are to strive tO observe the purpose of the law by preventing such religious from having a harmful influence. on the novices. ' 264 September, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 33 ¯ Must the nov;t;ate be located at the residence of the superior general or prov~ncla~? Neither canon law nor the practice of the Holy See in approv-ing constitutions demands that the novitiate be located at the resi-dence of the superior general or provincial. Article 88 of the Normae of 1901 contained the self-evident prescription that the novitiate wasoto be located at the place most suitable for the formation of the novices. The supervision of the higher superior can be more readily exercised when he resides at the novitiate, but the same purpose can and should be attained by more frequ.ent visits to the novitiate. --34--- Must we admit to the novlceship one who has been approved in the canonical examination of the local ordlnary~ and ~s it of" obligation that this examlnafi6n be made outside the clolster7 The canonical examination prescribed for institutes of women by can. 552 .is not admission to the noviceship or first temporary or perpetual~profession but a prerequisite for a licit admission. There-fore, a subject, who has been approved in this examination may be dismissed, excluded from further professions, or have her time of postulancy, noviceship, or temporary vows prolonged by the com-petent higher superior: The examination is to take place outside the cloister of both orders and congregations, but .any just or reason-able cause (c. 604, § 1) will suffice for holding the ~examination within the common cloister of congregations, i. e., institutes of simple vows." What is to be done ff in giving Holy Communion at the grille a Host hlls within the papal cloister of nuns? A priest may enter the cloister to pick up the Host, or a nun may pick up the Host with the paten, a clean piece of paper, or'her fingers And either consume it, if she has not already co'mmunicated, or give it to the priest. The place where the Host had fallen is after-wards to be washed by a nun, and the water is to be thrown into the sacrarium. Cf. Fanfani, De Religiosis, 460; J. O'Connell, The . Celebration of Mass, 242; De Amicis, Caerernoniale Parochorum, 181; De Herdt, Sacrae Liturgiae Praxis, II, n. 188. --36-- I asked a priest to say a votive Mass of the Annunciation of the Bless- 265 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for' Religious ed Virgln Mary. He told me he was not allowed to do so. What is the reason for this? Only the Masses for which permission is expressly given may be said as votive Masses of the Divine Persons, the Blessed Virgin, and the angels. This permission is verified when the Mass 'is listed as a votive Mass in the missal ~r when directions are given in the. Mass, usually after thi~ gradual, for saying it as a votive Mass. The votive Masses of the Blessed Mother universally permitted., are the five Masses of Our Lady for Saturdays according to the season, Immacu-late Conception, Seven Dolors, and Immaculate Heart. All the Masses of the Blessed Virgin in the Masses for Certain. Places may be used as votive Masses, except that of the Expectation of the Birth of Our Lord (December 18), but only in places where the festal Mass is permitted. Particular dioceses or religious institutes can also have indults to say some other Masses of the Blessed Virgin as votive Masses. A votive Mass may be said-in honor of any canon-ized saint whose name is inscribed in the Roman Martyrology, in its~approved supplements, or in tlhe calendar approved by the Holy See for any diocese, religious order, or congregation. Votive Masses may also be said for the various necessities contained in the second series of votive Masses of the missal. Cf. 3.O'Connell, "T'he Cele-bration of Mass, 68-73. --37m What is thb meaning of lay brother and la~/sister? When found, different classes of religious in the same instittite are commonly those of clerical religious and lay brothers, teaching brothers and lay brothers, choir nuns or sis~'ers and lay sisters. Lay brothers and lay sisters are sometimes called coadjutor, coadjutrix, auxiliary, and converse religious. The Latin n.ame for their class is conversi(ae). A lay brother or sister is not simply a. lay religious. All religious wo'men are lay religious, Since a lay religious is one not destined for, the priesthood. Lay brothers can be had in ~i male in-stitute in which all, the members are lay religious, e. g., in a congre-gation of teaching brothers, The class of lay brother and lay sister is distinguished ,by the following notes. There are two juridical classe's of members of distinct rights 'and obligations in the institute. The lay brother or sister is destined for domestic, manual, and tem-poral la.bors, while to the other class appertain the priestly ministry, teaching, nursing, and the formation of postulants, novices, and prbfessed. The lay brothers and sisters have no part in the govern-ment of the institute, which is reserved to the other class. Therefore, 266 September, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS they cannot be voted for or appointed to any office; nor do they have a vote in any chaptbr, general, provincial, or local. In virtue of c. 526, lay sisters have a vote on prolonging the term of the ordinary confessor; but this is.not a matter of government. ~38~- We prolonged the temporary vows of a junior professed for three more years'. May we admit him to perpetual profession before the ex-plratlon of these three added years? By canon law both the postulancy and the noviceship may be prolonged but not longer than six months. This prolongation ma~ be made even if the duration of,the postulancy and noviceship is longer than the six months and the year prescribed by canon law. Some constitutions restrict prolongation, e. g., by forbidding an tension Of more than three months to a prescribed post~lancy of nine months or to a noviceship of two years. Canon law also per-mits a prolongation of temporary vows for' three years but forbids that the whole time of- any case of temporary profession, without an indu.lt from the Holy See, be more than six years. If an institute has five years of temporary vows, they are prol6ngable-only for a year; if six, they may be prolonged only by an indult from the Holy See. Prolongation of any of these probationary states is to be avoided as far as possible by a system of reports to the highe[ superior and the prompt instruction, counseling, and admonishing of the unsatis-factory subject. Prolongation is rarely found to be a satisfactory expedient except in a case such as that of health. A prolongation of any of these probationary states does not have to be made for the frill time permitted by law. Any of them may be prolonged for days, Weeks, months, and the temporary pro-fession for one or two years. ,Whether the prolongation has been made for the full time allowed or any lesser period, the competent higher superior may admit a subject who has proved himself satis- . factory before the expiration of such a period. --39m What ,is the difference between the canonical impediments that' make a noviceship ,invalid and those that render it merely illicit?. An impediment to the noviceship is a circumstance affecting a per.son that would make his novi'ceship either invalid. (diriment im-pediment) or merely illicit (merely prohibiting impediment). All religious' institutes are' obliged by the impediments of can.~ 542. Some 267 QUESTION~AND ANSWERS Review f~r" Religious institutes have additional impediments of their own constitutions. All laws of the code oblige immediately under sin. Their vio-lation is consequently a sin, at least, objectively. The common ef-fect of law is to produce a moral obligation. A law produces no other effect uialess this is certainly stated in the law. For example, ' some laws enact'a canonical penalty, such as an excommunication against a Catholic who attempts marriage before a non-Catholic minister (c. 2319, § 1, 1"). In the present inatter, a law produces only the common effect of a moral obligation when it is a merely prohibiting impediment. To be also a diriment impediment, the law must state certainly, either explicitly or implicitly, that it is an invalidating law. This i~ done explicitly by the phrases that the person is incapable of making a valid noviceship or ~afinot be validly admitted to the noviceship. Implicitly the same effect would be ex-pressed by stating that the circumstance was a diriment impediment or that no noviceship could exist because of the circumstance or by requiring a circumstance for a noviceship or a novice to exist. Invalidating ecclesiastical laws are-concerned only .with juridical acts. These are acts that effect the acquisition, change,~nd loss of rights and ol~ligafions, such as contracts, marriage, and religious pro-fession. It is impossible to invalidate a simple act of disobedience; but marriage, since it produces the rights and obligations of husband and wife, can be invalidated. Let us suppose that a religious pro-fession is invalidly made. The invalidating law does not and can-not annihilate the physical enyity of the act of l~rofession; nor can it annul the moral entity of the act, i. e., that the act was or was not knowingly and thus sinfully made contrary to law. However; the act of profession would otherwise have produced the rights and ob-ligations of the religious state. The' p.recise effect 0f the invalidating law is tO annul these rights and obligations. The one who made the profession is not a religious and h~i's none of the rights and obliga-tions of a religious. The juridical effect of a valid noviceship is to make the subject capable under this" aspect of a valid religious pro-fession; a diriment impediment not dispensed annuls this capability. Inculpable ignorance excuses from the sin but not from the invali-dating effect of a Violation of such laws. Ignorance would excuse even from the invalidity of a particular law when such a law states that ignorance has this effect (c. 16, § 1). None of the invalidating laws on the religious state admit ignorance as an excuse from the invalidating effect. ¯Religious should faithfully observe all the laws of their institute 268 $eptember, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS and especially of the Church, but the invalidating laws are to be even more carefully studied and most strict~ly observed.Very serious consequences can arise from negligence in this matter, since the in-validating laws on the religious state can quite readily cause a chain of invalidity in the institute; For example, an invalid noviceship makes all subsequent professions invalid, and a house not validly designated as a novitiate house renders all noviceships in that house invalid. These possible cases could be multiplied, and all possible cases appear to have been verified in fact. The care for the observance of. invalidating laws on the religious state rarely falls on subjects or local superiors. It.is the master of novices, higher superiors and' their councilors, and the general and provincial secretary who must take care of the observance of such laws. They should know enough canon law to recognize or at least suspect an invalidating law and they must seek competent advice in any doubtful matter. ~0-- Poverty is a constant, iproblem in our institute. The principal difficul-ties are the use of money.wlthout permission, the very frequent request to use all or part of cjiffs, the obtaining of personal necessities, practlca~ly always of better quality, from seculars, and the obtaining of money from seculars for special purposes, which appear very extraordinary to the other religious. The last two are often solicited, directly or indirectly, by the rel[glous. It is hum[llatlng to realize that this is being done, and es-pecially the last two practices cause difficulties, discontent, and 9radua| loss of observance in quite a few other religious. I am sure that, with the possible exceptlbn of rare and accidental cases, local superiors are cjen~ erous. Are there any law~. that we should add to our constitutions to strengthen the observance of poverty? The principles with regard to such practices and even thespecific practices themselves have often been treated in the REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS. It is a delusion to believe that new or added laws neces-sarily effect a renewed spiritual life. Defective laws,should b~ cor-rected; but the laws of the institute in question, as of so many others that are faced by the same problem, are not defective. The precise difficulty of many religious is that they confine their understanding and practice of poverty to the mere obligation of the vow and .of law. Superiors are to insist on the observance of both the vow\ and the laws on poverty; they are to. remember that it is easier to prevent than to eliminate abuses; and by apt ~nstruction and individual guid-ance they are to strive.to rfiake their subjects realize the purpose of poverty, without which poverty in many cases will be a matter of, 269 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoieu~ for Religious ;'what I~can get away with." The purpose of the religious life is the perfection of divine charity, and the primary purpose of the three vows of religion is to remove the chief obstacles that impede the soul from complete,love of God. The princilSal purpose therefore of tt~e vow of poverty is not mere external observance but a detach-ment from external goods that will lead to an increased love of God. Detachment here is the habitual interior state by which one uses, requests, and desires ma'terial things, not for themselves, but only in-sofar as they are necessary or useful for personal sanctification, prog-ress in that sanctification, and work. Permission is a help to the at-tainment of deta~chment, but no assurance of its acquisition. Per- .mission is highly compatible with attachment to the object permitted. It should be axiomatic that religious pove~rty is efficacious only to the degree that it effects detachment. If a religious iS not striving for detachment, poverty is contributing very little to his religious life. This purpose of povery is not commanded under sin; but a religious is grievously deceived if he does not realize that his sanctification, even after profession, is placed principally in matters of counsel. Religious poverty consequently is real and effective only in the degree that it is increasing love of God, detachment from material' things, and the ~ correlative virtues of trust in divine providence, patience, meekness, humility, and the spirit of mortification. A candidate applied for admission~ who had evidently been conceived before the marr[acje of his parents, but the parents married in the C~hurch before his birth. Is he lecjitlmat~? A legitimate child is one either conceived or born of a valid or a putative marriage (c. 1114). It is therefore not necessary that a Child be both conceived and born of such a ¯marriage, but either con-ception or birth is sufficient. This child was born of a valid mar-riage and is consequently legitimate. ¯ If'will be clearer to put the present question in the form of'a case with fictitious names. Irwin, a Gatholic, attemp÷ed marFiacje with an Episcppalian, before an Episcopalian minister. A daughter, Jane, was born to the couple a year later. The marrlacje was ne~;er ¢onvalidated in the Gathloi¢ Church. 'Irwin has always been certain ofthe invalidity" of his marriacje, but Irma has never had a doub~ about its validity. -Jane has olways been a C~athollc and wishes to enter relicjion. Is she lecjitim~te? 270 " September, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS A child is legitimate if conceived or born °either from a valid or from a putative marriage. A putative marriage is an invalid mar-riage, but at the time of the celebration at least one of the parties believed'the marriage valid. It is sufficient that a non-Catholic party be the one in good faith. (Cf. Vlaming-Bender, Praelectiones Iuris Matrimonii, 45-46; Woywood-Smith, A Practical Commentary, I, 646.) This good faith required in at least one of the parties means that such a party at the time of the celebration either had no doubt about the validity; or, if there was such a doubt, it was proportion-ately investigated. If such anlnvestigation was neglected, the party was not in good faith. The marriage remains putative until both parties are certain of its invalidity. A child either conceived or both while the marriage is putative is legitimate and remains so forever, even though later both parties become certain of the invalidity. A putative marriage can occur, when the invalidating .cause is el}her a defect of consent or a diriment impediment not dispensed. On January 26, 1949, the Code Commission gave an au.thentic inter-- pretation, whose sense is that a .marriage attempted completely with-out canonical form cannot be puta, tive if at least one of the parties is held to c~nonical form. Canonical form consists in the presence of a competent priest and at least two witnesses. As a Catholic, Irwin was held to canonical form; and his marriage with'Irma before an Episcopalian minister was attempted completely without ~canoniCal form. Therefore, the marriage cannot be putative; and Jane is iilegitimate. --43m Does the impediment of a religious profession effect one ~vho left after profe~slon and later wishes to be readmiffed to the, same institute? This diriment impediment of can. 542, 1 °, reads: "Those who ~ire or were bound by religious profession." The language of the canon is absolute and i.s to be understood absolutely. The impediment )herefore is verified in those who. are now bound or at any time in the past were bound by valid religious vows, sOlemn or simple, per-~ petual or temporary, iri the same or a different institute, whet,her an order or a pontifical or diocesan congregation. The iNpediment does not affect , those who were merely novices or postulants in any re, ligious institute, nor novices who were admitted to profession in dan-ger of death, nor finally anyone who was a member of a society of common life without public vows or of a secular institute. How-ever, m~iny institutes have a merely, prohibitive impediment of their own constitutions with regard to.those whd were novices or pos~u~- 271 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS lants in another, religious institute, which some extend also to those who had been nox;ices or postulants in the same religious institute. The impediment is dispensable. Greater care is to be exercised in this case to secure assurance of a religious vocation. The departure from ,,another institute is, generally speaking, a strong argument against the presence of a religious vocation. The petition should give the circumstances and reasons for the departure, i. e., the name of the 6ther institute, of what vows the candidate was professed, how long, and whether the departure was voluntary or by exclusion at the end of temporary vows, by secularization, or dismissal. The reasons for the departure should be given truthfully arid completely. Should novices be separated from the postulants? Canon law does not command the separatioh of the novices and postulants. Constitutions of lay congregations approved by the Holy See after 1901 are based in great part on the Normae of 1901. Article 64 of these Normae prescribed such a separation when this could be conveniently accomplished. Some institutes have such a prescription in their constitutions, due either to the influence of the Nor.maeor to the fact that these institutes believe separation to be more conducive to the religious formation of both novices and postulants. What does canon law command about the place of postulancy? Can. 540, § 1, commands that the postulancy be made in the novitiate ,house or in another house of the institute where the religious discipline prescribed by the constitutions is faithfully observed. The canon does not forbid the distribution of the postulants in many houses of the institute nor the repeated transfer of a postulant from one house to another. Experience, however, 'more than fully dem-onstrates that it is far more preferable for the postulancy to be made , in the novitiate house. It can be taken as a thorotighly sound and general practical principle that the effect o,f separation from the master of novices or postulants is little instruction 6r formation in the religious li~e. A small number of congregations have wisely pre-scrib, ed that the postulants must spend two complete months in the novitiate house before their entrance into the noviceship when the earlier part of the postulancy has been made outside the novitiate house. 272 (Material for this department should ,be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs~ Indiana.) THE MIND OF THE CHURCH IN THE FORMATION OF SISTERS. Se-lectlbns from Addresses Given durln9 the Six Regional Conferences and the First National Meeting of the Sister Formation Conference, 19S4-19SS. Pp. 282. Fordham University Press, New York. 19S6. $3.00 This book is another milestone in the Sister Formation move, menL The inspiration of the movement was the address of Plus XII at the first International Congress of Teaching Sisters in September, 1951. The Holy Father dxhorted the ~ sisters to make all of their schools excellent, to make sure that the education of sister teach-ers corresponds in quality and academic degrees to that demanded by the state, and to adapt themselves to new conditions. "You," he added, "must serve the cause of Jesus Christ and of His Church as the world t~oday requires." The movement was inf~rmally laurlched at the Kansas City NCEA convention in 1952 when a ggoup of sisters was authorized .to survey the current status of sister education in the United States. ,The findings of the survey underscored three major problems of sister education: (!) the. needed time for sisters to complete a bachelor's degree program and state certification requirements beford entering the classroom, (2) the resources (financial and academic) necessary for this adeq

Issue 14.3 of the Review for Religious, 1955. ; Review for Religious MAY 15, 1955 Empress of America . c.J. McNaspy The Relicjious Life . Pope Plus Throucjh His Blood . Joseph H. Roh~i.g Community Life . Bernard I. Mullahy Third Mode of Humility. ¯ . . c. A. Heri~st Mary and Joseph Find Jesus . " . . Paul Oent Book Reviews Questions and Answers Summer Schools VOLUME XlV NO. 3 RI Vli::W FOR Ri::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIV MAY, 1955 NUMBER 3 CONTENTS EMPRESS OF AMERICA---C. J. McNaspy, S.J .113 SURSUM CORDA . 122 POPE PIUS XII AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFF_;--doseph F. Gallen, S.d1.23 THROUGH HIS BLOOD~doseph H. Rohling, C.PP.S . 139 COMMUNITY LIFE--Bernard I. Mullahy, C.S.C . 141 TI-IE. THIRD MODE OF HUMILITY---C. A. Herbst, S.3 .1.50 MARY AND dOSEPH FIND dESUS--Paul Dent, S.d .155 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausman~, S.3. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 157 SOME BOOKLETS . 164 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- ll. Dismissal of Novice without Giving Reason .165 12. Novitiate Extended until Regular Profession Ceremonies 165 13. Mental Patients with Temporary Vows . 166 14. Changing Constitutions in regard to Mail . 166 15. Handbook for Sacristans . 167 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 167 SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS . 168 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1955. Vol. XIV, No. 3. Published bi- " monthly: ,January, March, May; 3uly~ September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ,January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G.Ellard, S.,J., Adam C. Ellis, S.,J., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Francis N. Korth, S.,J. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.3. Copyright, 1955, by Adam C. Ellis, S.d. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inslde back cover. Empress ot: America INTRODUCTION o F the world's favorite Marian shrines it may seem surprising that the oldest is on our own continent. Three centuries before the apparitions at Lourdes, our Lady appeared in America and left her miraculous image in Guadalupe, then a suburb, now part of Mexico City. Every year many Americans join their fellow Catholics of the South in paying homage to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Again and again the Holy Father has joined them in spirit, and ten years ago he proclaimed Our Lady of Guadalupe patroness of America, with the title of "Empress." The outline of the history is familiar to all religious. But not all may realize bow completely reliable and authentic are.our sources, Bishop Schlarman's Mexico Land o# Volcanoes indicates a number of scientific historians who have studied the question. Principal among them are Fathers Bravo Ugarte and Cuevas. In the following pages we present a close English translation of a document that goes back to the very period of the miracle and is accepted as historical. It was written by an Indian, Antonio Valer-iano, a relative of the Aztec Emperor Montezuma. Valeriano com-posed his text in his own language, some ten years after the event (December 12, 1531). It was translated recently into Spanish by Primo Veliano Velazquez, and this translation was made from the Spanish. A word about the style. The original, we are told, is written in the very formal style of the period: the Spanish translator has kept this blend of formality and naivet~. The present translator has tried to preserve some of the charm and simplicity, together with what to us might seem artificiality. But his main effort has been to give a faithful version of the document, even to the point of literalness.--C. J. McNAspY, S.J. ANTHONY'S STORY Herein is told how the ever Virgin Mary, Mother of God, our Queen, most marvelously appeared not long ago in Tepeyac, which is called Guadalupe. First she allowed herself to be seen by a poor Indian whose name was Juan Diego; then her precious image was made manifest before the new bishop, Fray Juan de Zumarr~ga; and then came all the miracles which she has accomplished. 113 EMPRESS OF AMERICA Reoiew [or Religious Te'n years after the capture of the City of Mexico, when war ceased and there was p~ace among the peoples, there began to blos-son the faith and knowledge of the true God by whom we live. In those days, in the year 1531, early in the mon.th of December, it b'appened that tber~ lived a poor Indian, by name Juan Diego, arid as it is related, a native of Cuautitlan, which in m~tt~rs spiritual then belonged to Tlatilolco. Very early on the morning of Sal~ur-day, Juan Diego was coming by in order that be might pay wbrsbip to God 'and perform some errands. He arrived at the hill called Tepeyacac when it was dawn. He heard a singing above the hill, a~ singing which seemed the song.of various precious birds, although at times, when the voices of the singers were silent, it seemed "that the mountain answered them. Their song was very gentle and de-" ligbt,ful, surpassing that of the Coyoltototl and the Tzinizcan and the other beautiful birds that sing. Juan Diego stopped to look and said within himself, Can it be that I am worthy of what I am hearirig? It may be I am dreaming. Did I arise from sleep? Where am I? Am I, perhaps, in the earthly paradise that the ancients, our ancestors, spoke of? Or it may be I am in heaven. 'But as be turned his bead toward the east, above the hill, whence the precious heav-enly song was proceeding, it suddenly ceased; and there was silence; and he l~eard himself called from above the hill, "duanito, duan Dieguito." So he m~de bold to go whither he was called, nor was he fright-ened for a moment; but, on the contrary, happily he climbed the bill to see whence .he was being summoned: and, arriving at the summit, he saw a lady standing there and telling him to come closer. Now wb~n he came inl~o her presence he marveled mU'db bet more than human glory, for her clothes did shine like 'the sun, and the rock on which she stood was struck with splendor and ap-pear. ed like a bracelet of precious stones, and the earth shone like a rainbow. The mezquites, nopals, and other different bushes that are usually there seemed like emeralds, their leaves like fine tur-quoises, and their branches and thorns did shine like gold. Juan bowed down before her and beard bet word, very gentle and polite, as. that of one who is. very attractive and much esteemed. She said to him, "Juanito, thou smallest of my sons, .where art thou going?" He replied, "Lady and my Child,.I .must g9 to thy house of Tlati-lolco to attend to divine matters that our.priests, the delegates of our Lord, give and teach us." Then she spoke to him and told him her holy will~ saying, "Know thou and understand, thou "the least ll~t May, 1955 " EMPRESS OF AMERICA of my sons, that I am the ever Virgin Mary, Mother of the true God, by whom we live; of the Creator by whom all things have their 'being; of the Lord of heaven and of earth. Know thou that it is my strong wish that a church be built here for me, in order that I may manifest and bestow all my love, compassion, aid, and protection; for I am thy loving mother, thine, and .mother of all them that dwell in this land and of those others who love me, call upon me, and trust in me. For it is my will to listen to their cries, grief, and sorrows. Wherefore, in order that I may accomplish this my wish, thou shalt go to the palace of the Bishop of Mexico and relate to him that I send thee to manifest to him this strongest de-sire of mine, that he should build a church for me here; and thou shalt relate to him exactly all that thou hast .seen and admired, and that thou hast heard. And know thou that I will be grateful to thee and will repay.thee, for I will make thee happy and thou wilt deserve much that I should reward the work and trouble by which thou wilt obtain what I ask of thee. Take care that thou hearken to my command, my smallest son. Go and strive with all thy might that thou brin~' it about." He then did reverence before her and said, "My Lady, I go now to fulfill thy command; I leave thee for the present, I thy humble servant." Then he went dowh tO do her command, and he went by the road that leads straight to Mexico. Entering the City, he came straightway to the palace of the Bishop, who was the prelate ~hat had newly arrived and who was called Fray Juan de Zumarraga, being a religious of St. Francis. Scarcely had Juan Diego arrived, when he tried to see the Bishop, asking the servants to go and announce him; who after a good while came to call him, for their Lord Bishop had given order that he should enter. And when he had entered, he bowed and genuflected before the Bishop; immediately he gave him the message of the Lady of Heaven, relating.to him all he had admired, seen, and heard. The Bishop, after he had heard all his words and message, seemed not to believe him, for he ar~swered him thus, "Thou wilt come again, my son, and I shall hear thee more slowly, and I shrill con-sider all from the very beginning and shall ponder the desire and wish with which thou hast come." So Juan went out and grew sad, fbr his message had not been in any way accomplished. Now, on the same day, as Juan returned to the summit of the hill, he came upon the Lady of Heaven, who was awaiting him in the very place where he had seen her the first time. Seeing her, he 115 EMPRESS OF: AMERICA Reoiew for Religious prostrated before her and said, "Lady, thou the smallest of my daughters and my child, I went where thou didst send me to carry out thy cofnmand; with difficulty I entered where the Bishop dwelt; I saw him and presented thy message as thou didst tell me. Sure enough, he received me kindly and listened to me attentively; yet, from what he replied, it appeared to me that be did not believe me. He said, 'Thou wilt come again. I shall listen to thee more slowly. I shall examine from the very beginning the desire and wish with which thou hast come.' I understood perfectly by his manner of answering me that he thinks that it may be I made up myself the story that thou dost wish a church to be built here, and that perhaps it is not thy order. For this reason, I earnestly beg of thee, my Lady and Child, that thou entrust tby message to those who are important, well known, respected, and esteemed, so that he may be believed. For I am dust a little man, a string, a little ladder, jus~ a tail, a leaf, a nobody; and thou, my Child, the small-est of my daughters, Lady, art sending me to a place where I never go. Forgive me for causing thee great sorrow and for falling into thy displeasure, my Lady." The most holy Virgin answered,him, "Listen, my smallest son, and understand that many are my servants and messengers whom I can summon to bring my message and do my will. But it is quite necessary that thou thyself should ask and help, and that my will be carried out by thee. I beg of thee, my smallest son, and I strongly command thee, to go again tomorrow to see the Bishop. In my name tell him my will: that be must build the church that I ask. And remind him that it is I myself, the ever Virgin Mary, Mother of God, who send thee." 3uan Diego rel~li~d, "My Lady and my Child, do not be grieved. I shall gladly go to carry out thy command. I shall not fail in any way to do it, nc,r do I think the way is difficult. I shall go to do thy will; now it may be I shall not be heard agreeably; or if I am heard, it may be I shall not be believed. Yet, tomorrow evening, when the sun is setting, I will come to give an account of tby, message and the Bishop's reply. Now I leave thee, my smallest daughter, my Child and my Lady. Meanwhile, sleep well." And he went to rest in 10is own house. On the following day, which was Sunday, very early in the morning 3uan Diego left his house and came straightway to Tlati-lolc6, that he might be instructed in divine things and there be pres-ent for the roll call, and later go to the prelate. After Mass, the 116 Ma~l, 1955 EMPRESS OF AMERICA roll call having been completed., the people dispersed. Juan Diego immediately went on to the palace of the Lord Bishop. Scarcely had he arrived, when he exerted every effort to see him again, but he saw' him only with much difficulty. Juan knelt at his feet, mourning and weeping as he related the command of the Lady of Heaven. Would that the BiShop would believe his message and the will of the Immaculate One to build her church wh~re she said she wanted it. The Lord Bishop, that he might gather more inl~orma-tion, asked him many things: where Juan had seen her and how it had come to pass; and he told the Lord Bishop everything per-fectly. But though he explained exactly how she had appeared and how mu~h he had seen and admired, and that she had revealed that she was the ever Virgin, the most holy Mother of our Savior and Lord Jesus Christ; nevertheless, the prelate did not believe him,, replying that he would not have it to be done on his word and petition alone, but that some sigma was necessary for him to be able to believe that the very Lady of Heaven was sending Juan' Diego'. Hearing this, Juan Diego replied to the Bishop, "My Lord, think of what must be the sign that thou dost ask, for now I shall go "to ask it of the Lady of Heaven who sent me hither." The Bishop, seeing that Juan held to all things without hesitation and retracted no.thing, dismissed him. 'At the same time he com-missioned some men of his house, in whom he could trust, to follow "Juan and watch whither he might go and whomever he might see and with whom he might speak. And this is what came to pass. Although Juan Diego made his way straight and followed the road, those who came behind him lost track of him, where the ravine passes near the bridge of Tepeyacac, and though they sought him every- 'where, they did not see him. Wherefore they returned, not only because they had grown weary, but also because their purpose had been blocked, and this caused them anger. They went to report to the Lord Bishop, urging him not to believe Juan, and saying that :he was but a deceiver and had made up the story, or that he was only dreaming what he had said and asked. Finally they suggested that if Juan should return, they might take him and punish him severely, so that he would never again lie or deceive another. Meanwhile, Juan Diego was with themost holy Virgin, r~lat-ing to her the answer that he brought from the Lord Bishop. And she, having heard, said, "It is' well, my little son. Thou wilt re-turn here tomorrow to bring the Bishop the sign that he has asked. With this he will believe thee, and about this request he will no longer 117 EMPRESS OF AMERICA "Ret~iew .for Religiou, doubt nor suspect thee. And know, my little sonl that I shall repay thy care and the work and weariness that thou hast undergone for me. Well, then, I shall expect thee here tomorrow." But on the following day, Monday, on which Juan" Diego was to bring a sign in order that he be believed, he did not return. For when he arrived at his house he found that his uncle Juan Bernardino had been taken very ill. Straightway he went to summon a doctor and some help. But there were no free moments now, for the ill-. heSS was indeed great. That night his uncle besought him to leave early in the morning and come to Tlatilolco that he might call a priest to come and hear his confession and make him ready, for he was very certain that it was his timeto die and that he would never arise nor be strong again. Early in the morning, Tuesday, Juan Diego departed from his house for Tlatilolco to summon the priest. When he reached the road that was at the foot of the hill'of Tepeyacac, toward the west, where it was his custom to go by, he said, "If I make my way straight, it may be the Lady will see me and will surely stop me so that I may bring the sign to the Bishop as she told me. First, however, let us care for the trouble in hand; wherefore, I should call the priest quickly, for my poor uncle is-surely waiting for him." Then turning to the hill he climbed it and passed over onto .the other side toward the east, so that he might reach Mexico quickly and that the Lady of Heaven might not cause him delay. For he thought to avoid the eyes of her to whom all things fire present in sight. He saw her descending from the hill and with her gaze fixed upon him before even he had seen her. And she came up to meet him at a side of the hill and said to him, "What is it that troubles thee, my smallest son? Whither art thou going?" He was saddened somewhat, or perhaps ashamed or frightened. He 'bowed before her and saluted her saying, "My Child, the smallest of my daugh-ters, my Lady, I hope thou art happy. How art thou this m.drning? Art thou in good health, my Lady and my Child? For I shall bring thee sorrow. Thou knowest,.my Child, that my uncle, thy poor servant, is exceedingly ill. He is stricken by the plague and is on the point of dying. I am now hastening to thy house in Mexico to call one of the priests loved by our Lord to come and hear his confession and make him ready, for we who are born do all await the hardship of our death. And though I am departing to do this thing, yet will I afterwards return hither and bear thy. message, my Lady and my Child. Forgive me. Be, patient for a while. I EMPRESS OF: AMERICA will not deceive thee, my smallest daughter. Tomorrow I shall come and in great haste." After hearing the words of Juan Diego, the most loving Virgin made her answer, "Listen and understand, my smallest son. That Which troubles and afflicts thee is nothing, Do not let thy heart be saddened. Do not fear this illness nor any other illness or anxiety. Am I not here, thy Mother? Dost thou not stand under my shadow? Am I not thy health? Dost thou not rest on my lap? What else then dost thou need? Let nothing make thee troubled or unhappy. Be not afflicted by thy uncle's illness, for he will not die of it at this time. For know that he is already well." (And then it was that she healed his uncle, as was discovered afterwards.) Now, when Juan Diego had heard these words of the Lady of Heaven, he felt a deep consolation and happiness, and asked that she send him without delay to see the Bishop and bring him some .sign and proof, so that he might believe. Then the Lady of Heaven told him to ascend the summit of the hill where he had seen her before. "Climb up, my smallest son," she said, "to the top of the hill; where thou didst see me and I gave thee orders thou shalt find different flowers. Cut them and gather them. Then come and bring them to me." Juan ,Diego straightway climbed the hill; and, when he reached the top, he was astonished to find that thebe had blossomed before their season so great a number of various exquisite roses of Castille; for at that time of the year the ice was very severe. The roses ~ave off a great fragrance and were filled with the dew of night that seemed like' precious pearls. Forthwith he began to cut them, joining them togdther and putting them into his cloak-fold. Now, the top of the hill was not.a place where any flowers grew, for it had many rocks, thistles, thorns, nopales, and mezquites. And even if there had been little plants, at that time it was the month of December in which the frost eats and spoils everything. He clambered down without delay and brought the Lady of Heaven the various roses that he had gone to cut. When she saw them she gathered them in he~ hand and again placed them in his bosom saying, ~'My sr~all-est son, these roses of various kind are the proof and sign that thou wilt bring the Bishop. Thou wilt tell him in my name to see my will in this sign and to carry it out. Thou art my ambassador, worthy of confidencd. I strictly order thee to unfold thy mantle and show what thou art bringing before the Bishop alone. Thou wilt relate everything. Thou wilt say that I told thee to climb to 119 'EMPRESS OF ~IMERICA Review for R~ligious the stimmit of the hill to cut flowers, and all that thou didst see and admire, that thou mightest persuade the prelate to lend his hand in the building of the church which I have.requested." After the Lady of Heaven had given him her charge, be started on the way that leads straight to Mexico, happy and sure of sucdess, carefully bearing his burden in his bosom, so that notbng would fall from his hands, and enjoying the fragrance of the various kinds of beau-tiful, flowers. When he had arrived at the palace of the Bishop, the majordomo and other servants of the prelate came out to meet him. He asked them to tell the Bishop that he wished to see him. Yet none of them was willing and acted as if they had not heard him, because it was very early; or perchance they had recognized him and thought him a nuisance. .Besides, they had h~ard from their dompanions how they lost sight of him when their had followed him the day before. Hence, Juan Diego was there many hours waiting. Afte~ a time they noted that be bad been there a long time, standing, downcast, doing nothing. Noticing that he seemed to be carrying something in his bosom, they came near t6 see what it was and to satisfy them-selves. Juan Diego saw that he could not hide his burden withou~ their molesting and manhandling or beating him; so he opened his mantle a little and showed that it contained flowers. They, perceiv-ing that there were various kinds of roses of Castille and re~ilizing that it was not then the season for them to bloom, were greatly taken aback, especially because the flowers .were very fresh, in full "bloom, fragrant and precious, They wanted to take some, but when they dared to touch them they met no success; for when their hands drew near, they saw no true flowers but what seemed to have been painted or'engraved or sewed on the mantle. They went thereupon to tell the Bishop what they had seen and that the little Indian who had come so many times now desired to see him and that be bad been w~iting a long time. Hearing this, the ,Bishop thought that this would be the proof to certify a'nd carry out what the Indian asked. Immediately he ordered Juan to come in. When he entered, Juan did reverence before the Bishop as he had done before, and again relating everything that he had seen and admired, he delivered his .message. "My Lord," said he. "I did what thou didst order me. I went to tell my Mistress, the Lady of Heaven, Holy Mary, the precious Mother of God, that thou didst desire a sign that thou mightest be able to believe me before thou were to make the church where she requested it. I told her 120 May, 1955 EMPRESS' OF ,AMERIC,~ besides that I had given thee my word to bring some sign and proof of her will, as thou. didst demand. She received thy message and kindly granted what thou dost ask, a sign and proof that her will be done. Very early this morning she told me to come again to see thee~ I asked for,the, sign so that thou mightest believe me, which she promised she would give. Immediately she fulfilled the promise: she sent me to the summit of the hill, where I had seen her before, to cut various roses of Castille. And after I went to cut them, I brought them down and she gathered them in her hand and .again put them into my bosom for. me to bring to thee in. person. For, although I knew that at t~e top of the hill there is no place where flowers grow, for there are onl~ rocks, thistles, thorns, nopale~, and mezquites, .I did not doubt. And when I had reached the summit, I saw that I was in a paradise where were all the varied and exquisit~ roses of Castille, sparkling with dew, and these I began to cut. She told me to give them to thee. And so I now" do, so that thou mayest see in them the sign that thou askest and mayest carry out her will,. and-so that the" truth of the words of my message may be made manifest. Here they are; do thou receive them." Then he unwrapped his ~¢hite maiatle which held the roses in its fold. As they were scattered on the floor, all these differentroses of Castille, suddenly there appeared drawn on' the mantle the precious image of the ever Virgin Mary, Mother of God, as it,exists and is preserved today in bei- church of Tepeyacac, which is .called Guadalupe. When the Lord'Bisbop bad seen this, be and all w.bo were there knelt down and greatly admired it. And when they arose they were sad and grieved, for they had gaZed upon the image with their whole heart and mind. With tears of sorrow the Lord Bishop earnestly begged pardon for not baying carried out our Lady's will and command. When he had arisen he loosed the garment from 3uan Diego's neck, the mantle on which appea~ed the image of the Lady of Heaven. And taking it he Went' to place it ifi hi~ oratory. 3uan Dieg6, therefore, at the Bishop's command, remained one day more in the Bishop'~ house. The next day the prelate said, "Now show where it is the will of the Lady of Heaven that her church be built." And im-mediately he invited all to take part in the building. '3uan Diego had hardly indicated where the Lady.of~ Heaven had Ordered that her church be built when he asked permission to leave. Hewished now to hasten home and see his uncle 3uan Ber-' nar~tino, who had been very ill when bedeparted for Thtilolco to 121 EMPRESS OF AMERICA call a priest who might hear his confession and make him ready, on that day when the Lady of Heaven told him that he was already made well. Yet the people did not permit 3uan to return alone, but accompanied him to his house. And when they arrived they saw his uncle, who was very cheerful and felt no suffering. He was very much surprised that his nephew arrived surrounded and honored, and he asked him the reason why they were acting so and doing him such reverence. His nephew replied that when he went to call the priest to hear his confession and make him ready, the Lady of Heaven had appeared to him in Tepeyacac, that she told him not to be distressed, for his uncle was alrea~ly well, and that he had felt much consoled. She had sent him to Mexico to see the Lord Bishop in order to have a church built in Tepeyacac. His uncle re-lated that he was certain that it was she who had healed him at the moment, for he had seen her in the same way in which she appeared to his nephew, and had learned from her that she had sent him to Mexico to see the Bishop. Then had the Lady also told Bernardlno that when 3uan went to see the Bishop he should reveal what he had seen and the miraculous way in which she had cured him; and that he should tell the Bishop to call her (for it was fitting that her blessed image be so called) the ever Virgin Holy Mary of Guadalupe. Then they brought 3uan Bernardino into the presence of the Lord Bishop, to come and tell the story and give testimony in his presence. The Bishop received them both as guests iri his house several days, until the church of the Queen was built in Tepeyacac where 3uan Diego had seen her. The Lord Bishop also brought the holy picture of the beloved Lady of Heaven to the principal church, removing it from the oratory of his palace where it had been, so that all the people might see and admire the blessed likeness. The entire city was moved and came to see and admire the pious image and offer prayers. They were astonished that it had appeared by a divine miracle, for no person in this world painted her precious image. SURSUM CORDA Sursurn Corda is a new review for priests and religious, published by the Fran-ciscan Fathers. Its second number (February, 1955) contains the Address of His Excellency the Apostolic Delegate, Archbishop Carboni, to the First Congress of Religious Women of Australia, New Zealand, and Oceania, held at Rose Bay, Sydney, N.S.W., January 18, 1955. The editorial and business address is: 45 Victoria St., Waverly, N.S.W., Australia. 122 ' Pope Plus XII and !:he Religious Lil:e [EDITORS' NOTE: This valuable compilation of papal texts was made by Joseph F. Gallen, S.3. The first installment was published in our January number, pp. 3-11 ; the second in March, pp. 85-92. In his own iintroduction, Father Gallen ex-plained his selection of texts and his methods of reference. To facilitate reading the present installment, it is sufficient to recall that statements preceded by an asterisk were not made directly and ex.plicitly to or of religious and that all paragraphs ex- ¯ cept number 39 are taken from the Acta Apostolicae Sedis, the first number being the volume, the second the year, I~nd the third the page.] IV. THE VOWS 47. Pouertg. "The law of life itself demands the union of the old and the new that life may be ever the same and yet ever vigorous. Therefore, preserve fully and exactly, that form of religious life for whose observance and expression you have arisen in the Church. Certainly that which your glorious predecessors proposed to them-selves and to their" fellow-religious, also of the future, to be guarded with the utmost exertion, was evangelical poverty according to the law and example of the patriarch of Assisi. What an offscouring .of evils has arisen from the accursed thirst for riches! It is thee cause of wars, seditions, hunger, weakening of morals, of destruction. The abnormal disparity between those of excessive, wealth and those wasted by misery and want gives rise to fatal sources of cor-ruption. An admirable remedy for this calamity and corruption is the example of evangelical poverty. This is the attendant from heaven of the precept of labor, the friend of virtue, the teacher of nations, the protection and glory of the Kingdom of Christ, the most faithful preserver of a better hope. Its glorious standard has been entrusted to your hands; preserve it unstained. It is dishonorable to profess poverty in the dissimulation and fallacies of word and to destroy it in fact. Individual religious institutes, due to their growth and increase, may need more and larger houses. It is licit to secure these, but proper moderation and proportion are to be observed. Do not permit the beauty of poverty that is mani~fest in your habit and clothing to be lamentably clouded by sumptuous dwellings and delicate pleasures and comforts of life nor that your conduct contradict your words." Allocution to Fathers of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, 40-1948-551, 552. *48. "But even here a 'due measure and discretion' is to be ob- 123 POPE PlUS XlI Religious served, lest it ever .happen that those [seminarians] who must be trained 'tb 's~lf'-d£ni~aF and evangelical virtue live 'in palatial houses and luxurimls ease.and comfort. Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-685. *49. Chastit~l. "The pries.tly office demands from you,'We might say, exceptional sacrifices, and of these the: most outstanding is the complete sacrifice of one's self in al'legian~e to Christ by celibfic}. You must examine yourselves! If any find that they are incapable of:'observing .celi~ac3(,, We beseech them to leave the seminary and to devote themselves to another calling i~. which they will achieve a morally upright and fruitful life, impossible for them in the sanc-tuary without danger to their own eternal salvation and of dishonor for the Church." Address to theStudents o[ the Roman,Serninarie.s, Colleges, and Institutions, 31-1939-249, 250. ,. 50. "In tl~is earthly exile nothing indeed is more b~autiful, nothing more lovable than the immaculate splendor of virginity that shines from the face, the eyes and the affections and gently excites directs others to heavenly 'things. If the flame of divine charit-y is added to the brightness of this unsullied integrity, the resul{ 'i's something .that deeply moves the minds of men, powerfully attract~ their wills and inspires'them to the noble deeds that Christian virtue alone Can effect." Carbonization of B. M. Capitan,'o and C. V. Gerosa, 42-1950-418. '51. "Watchful and attentive care must be taken to make~sur~ that recruits for the sacred militia have great esteem for chastity, love and preserve it, since it. is one of the' main reasons why they have Chosen this.type of life and" persevere ih this vocation. The faci that in the course of human contactS this virtue is exposed to such great dangers demands that in those Who are to take upon them! selves the dignity of the priesthood purity :should "be of long stand'-:" ing anddeeply rooted. Hence, not only should clerics be ~ad~ aware at the proper time of the meaning of priestly celibacy and of tl~e chas~ffy they must practice, as well as of the obligatiotis entails, but they should also be warned of the dangers they ma~ encounter. Seminarians should likewise be urged to avoid from their earliest years all dangers to purity b~" recourse to those method~ of restraining the passions that are recommended by the masters of the spiritual life. Their progress in other virtues and the richnes~ of the fruits of their priestly zeal will be in proportion to the firmness and constancy' of thei'r control of their passions. Should h young 124 Ma~!, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE cleric prove to have a tendency to evil and be unable to break off his bad habit after a suitable time of trial, he should be obliged to. withdraw from the seminary before receiving sacred orders." Apos-tolic Exhortation, 'Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-690, 691. 52. "Therefore this modesty is not to be construed as equi'valent to perpetual silenc~ on matters of chastity nor to forbid in the train-ing of character that a temperate and pru'dent word be ever spoken on this matter. In these things youths are to be instructed with suitable counsels, they are to be permitted to manifest their' problems, to ask questions freely, they are to be given sound, clear answers and an explanation sufficient to impart both light and confidence." Allocution to Teachers of the Order of Discatced Carmelites, 43- 1951-736. 53. "Chastity and virginity (which implies also the interior re-nunciation of every sensual affection) does not make the soul a stranger to the world. It rather awakens and develops the energies for greater and higher duties that surpass the confines of individual families. There are today many teaching sisters and sister nurses who, in the better sense of the word, are closer to life than the or-dinary persons of the world." Apostolic Exhortation to the Inter-national Conoention of Teaching Sisters, 43-1951-741. 54. "Today We wish to speak only to those, whether priests or laymen, preachers, public speakers and writers, who have not a word of approval or praise for virginity vowed to Christ, who for years past, contrary to the warnings of the Church and in oppo-sition to her thought, have in principle given marriage the prefer-ence over virginity and who have gone so far as to present marriage as the only means capable of assuring its development and natural perfection to the human personality. Those who speak and write iri this manner are to take cognizance of their responsibility before God and the Church. They are largely to blame for.a fact that We can mention to you only with sadness. Today more than ever there are repeated requests for Catholic sisters from the Christian world and from outside it, and one after anothe¢ they must be given a sorrowful refusal; at times even works of long standing, hospitals and educational establishments must be abandoned--all because vocations are not sufficient for the needs." Address to the Congress of Mothers General, 44-1952-825. *55. "Here We must add, as the holy fathers and doctors of the Church have so clearly taught, that virginity is not a Christian 125 POPE PIUS XlI Review for Religious virtue unless embraced 'for the kingdom of heaven,' that is, unless its motive is to devote oneself more readily" to divine things, greater security in the attainmefit of eternal happiness and finally greater freedom for a zealous devotion also to the eternal salvation of others. They cannot claim the honor of Christian virginity who abstain, from marriage from excessive selfishness,, or to escape its obligations . . . or to make a proud and pharisaical boast of the integrity of their bodies, : . . a virgin is not to refrain from mar-riage as something ugly but because of the beauty and sanctity of virginity . Accordingly, this is the primary motive, the principal reason for Christian virginity: to strive only for the things of heaven and to direct the mind and heart to divine things, to please God in everything, to meditate on Him deeply, and to consecrate body and soul to Him entirely . It is evidently the love of Christ that persuades the virgin to flee to the cloisters of the mon-astery and to remain there forever that she may more freely and easily devote herself to the contemplation and love of her Divine Spouse; it is the love of Christ that profoundly moves her to un-dertake with all h~r strength and even to death works of mercy for her neighbor." Enc~tclical Letter on Sacred Vlrginit~t, 46-1954- 164, 165, 167. *56. "Before entering on such a very narrow path, all whose experience has shown them that they are very weak in this matter shall humbly heed the warning of Paul the Apostle: 'But if they do not contain themselves, let them marry. For it is better to marry than to be burnt.' There are many for whom the burden of per-fect chastity would evidently be so onerous that it could not be counselled to them. In the same way, priests who have the serious duty of counselling youths who say that they feel drawn to the priesthood or religious life are to urge them to give the mattercare-ful consideration, lest they enter on a way of life that they cannot hope to travel constantly and successfully to its end. Such priests are to give prudent thought to this suitability and, if judged ex-pedient, shall seek skilled advice. If a serious doubt remains, espe-cially if founded on the facts of their past lives, priests shall oblige such candidates to give up the intention of entering on the state of perfect chastity and forbid them admission to sacred orders or religious profession." Enc!jclical Letter on Sacred Virginit~l, 46- 1954-180, I8i. 57. Obedience. "Another effect will be that your obedience will 126 May, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE be established on a perpetually unshakeable foundation. Your stan-dard, your glory, your strength is your obedience. This above all must make you completely docile to the will of your superiors, with-out complaints, without murmur, without that reprehensible criti-cism, the disease of our age, which enfeebles the strength of men and renders their apostolic efforts sluggish and fruitless. The heavy burden imposed by your austere obedience will become light if you are motivated by charity. If charity is present, God is present, be-cause 'God is charity.' Therefore; let there be in you 'charity from a pure heart, and a good conscience, and an unfeigned faith.' " Atlocution to the XXIX General Congregation of the Societ~t of desus, 38-1946-383, 384. 58. "Indeed some praise as the real peak of moral perfection, not the surrender of liberty for the love of Christ, but the curbing of such surrender. The norm therefore to be preferred in the forma-tion of a just and holy person would be this: restrict liberty only where necessary; otherwise, give liberty free rein as far as possible. We transmit the question whether this new foundation 6n which some are trying to erect the edifice of sanctity will be as effective and as solid in supporting and augmenting the apostolic work of the Church as was the one which through fifteen hundred years has been provided by that ancient rule of obedience undertaken for love of Christ . No one is obliged to choose for himself the counsel of perfect obedience, which essentially is a rule of life whereby one surrenders the control of his own will . But words must be understood and accepted according to their obvious meaning, and if this norm is compared with the vow of obedience, it surely does not possess the same supreme value, nor is it an expression of the wonderful example recorded in Holy Scripture: 'He humbled Him-self becoming obedient unto death.' Therefore be is deceived him-self and deceives others who, forgetting the propensities of the soul and the inspiration of divine grace, offers as a guide to one seeking advice about entering the religious state only that new norm. Hence if it is clear that the voice of God is calling someone to the heights of evangelical perfection, without any besitatior~ be should be invited for the attainment of this lofty purpose to offer freely the sacrifice of his liberty as the vow of obedience demands, that vow, We proclaim, which the Church through so many centuries has weighed, has put to the test, has properly delineated and has ap-proved. Let no one be compelled to this self-consecration against 127 PoPE PlUS XlI Review ~:or Reliyfous his will; but if be.does will it, let'no one counsel him against it; above all, let no one hold him back." Address to the Genera[ Con-gress or) the States of Pe.rfectfor), 43-1951-31. 59. "It is certainly of supreme importance that supernatural obedi-ence, motivated by an ardent love of God, should be firmly, insist-ently and fervently fostered, and prevail, according to the norm of their laws; in religious houses. Doesn't the solid support of re-ligious discipline and life have its foundation here? Isn't the past or future success of the great undertakings that religious have and will accomplish to be .attributed solely to the un'iOn of tbeir force's by obedience? You must therefore recognize, r~spect and gladly accept the salutary yoke of obedience as the burden of the brave. However, in our day, in which the machine holds universal sway, wben the mechanical arts bare penetrated everywhere, absorb us and fashion everything to their image, superiors are to be careful not to treat their subjects almost as merchandise or parts Of a ma-cbine but they are always to respect the human person." Allocution to Teachers of the Order of Discalced Carmelites', 43-1951 - 736. V. PARTICULAR VIRTUES 60. Necessity of it)terror life. "But this also, as far as you can, you sbould accomplisb. . . tbat all wbom you can reacb are to be taugbt that notbing is preferable, nothing more necessary than that all should adorn their souls with heavenly virtues and especially that they should foster the divine life from which such virtues arise and grow. Whoever neglects this interior and supernatural life, v~hicfi is nourished by divine grace, whoe~'er devotes himself only to ex.- ternals, even if praiseworthy and adapted to the times, sooner or later realizes that he has given himself to a sterile and perishabl~ work. You know that 'every best gift, and every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights'; therefore, everythin~g also appertaining to the apostolate will be vain and empty unless moved b'y the spirit that is from God." Letter ob the Fifth Centenar~t of the Death of St. Colette, 40-1948-105, 106. 61. "With the same devotion that you cherish religious poverty in external matters you are to accumulate the v~ealth of a true in-terior life and to acquire spiritual riches: love of God and your ~aeighbor, real penance, a knowledge of sacred sciences, and a burn-ing desire to extend the Ki.ngdom of Christ. It is your duty to be conspicuous by a simplicity of conduct, a splendor of goodnesS, a brightness of holy joy, in your sacred ministry humbly to serve 128 May, 1955 "~HE RELIGIOUS LIFE the humble, especially the poorer, whom now evil men by so many evil arts strive to bind to themselves, to favor and assist." Allocu-tion to Fathers of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, 40-1948-! 552. 62. "The most active zeal can be closely allied with the quest for the riches of the interior life . An eager external activity and the cultivation of the interior life demand more than a bond of fellowship; as far at least as evaluation and willed effort are con-cerned, they demand that they should march along together step by step. With the growth of devotion~ to exterior works therefore, let there shine forth a cor~espdnding increase in faith, in the life of prayer, in zealous consecration of self and talents to God, in spotless purity of conscience, in obedience, in patient endurance of hardship, and in active charity tirelessly expend.ed for God and one's neighbor . The Church insistently demands of you that your external works correspond to your interior life and that these two: maintain a constant balance." Address to the General Con-gress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-32. *63. Charity. "But legitimate and well-ordered love of our native country should not make us close our eyes to the all-embracing nature of Christian charity, which calls for consideration of others and of their interests in the pacifying light of love." Encyclical Letter, "Sumni Pontit~catus," 31-1939-549. *64. Prayer. Its necessity. "Your divine vocation is to prepare the way in the souls of men for the love and grace of Jesus Christ. This cannot be accomplished unless you yourselves are already im-bued with that love. Enkindle the love of Christ in yourselves by union with Christ in prayer and sacrifice. By uhion, We say, in prayer. If you ask Us what word We have at the beginning of Our pontificate for the priests of the Catholic Church, We reply: pray, pray more ~nd more, and more insistently! By union also in sacri-fice: in the Eucharistic Sacrifice, but not only in the Eucharistic Sacrifice but also in a certain sacrifice of one's self. You realize that one of the effects of the Most Holy Eucharist is to confer strength to sacrifice and deny themselves on those who assist and receive. The various forms of Christian asceticism may continue to differ with regard to many secondary principles but none of them knows any way to the love of God that does not demand sacrifice also of one's self. Christ demanded this of His followers when He said: 'If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up 129 Reuiew for Religious his cross daily, and follow me.' In explicit language He defined the way to the love of God as the observance of the divine ~com-mandments. Finally, especially to His apostles He addressed that wonderful sentence: 'Amen, amen I say to you, unless the grain of wheat failing into the ground die, itself remaineth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.' " Address to the Students of the Roman Seminaries, Colleges, and Institutions, 31-1939-249. *65. "For such a formation of spirit We recommend prayer above everything else, as We have already said to the students of the sanc-tuary in their first gathering before Us. Pray, pray, pray; prayer is the key of the treasures of God; it is the weapon of combat and of victory in every struggle .for good and against evil. What can-not prayer accomplish by adoration, propitiation, petition, thanks-giving?" Address to Italian Catholic Action, 32-1940-368. *66. Necessity of mental pra~ter. "Genuine and real piety, which the Angelic Doctor calls 'devotion,' and which is the principal act of the virtue of religion, that act which correctly relates and properly directs men to God and by which they free!y and spontaneously give themselves to everything pertaining to the worship ~f God, needs meditation on the supernatural realities and spiritual exercises if it is to be nurtured, stimulated, sustained and is to prompt us to a more perfect life . Since our hearts, disturbed as they are at times by the lower appetites, do not always respond to motives of love, it is also extremely helpful to allow consideration and con-templation ~)f the justice of God to excite us on occasion to salutary fear and guide us thence to Christian humility, repentance and amendment." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-1947-534, 535. *67. "First of all, the Church exhorts us to holy meditation, which elevates the mind to things of heaven, draws our thoughts to the supernatural and, once our soul has been inflamed with the desire of God, directs it to Him along the path of right reason . Now it is absolutely essential that sacred ministers should most diligently reproduce in their own lives these examples from the Gospel and the virtues of our Divine Redeemer. But just as bodily food does not nourish, sustain and increase life unless it is digested and be-comes part of our own substance, so also unless the priest by medi-tation and contemplation on the mysteries of our Divine Redeemer --who indeed is the supreme and absolute Exemplar of perfection and the inexhaustible fountain of holiness--lives the life of this same Redeemer, he cannot gain control over himself ~ind his senses, 130 Mag, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE purify his soul, strive for virtue as be should, nor lastly discharge his sacred duties faithfully, zealously and fruitfully . Where-fore, in all truth must We assert that the special efficacy attached to meditation cannot be supplied by any other means and conse-quently that nothing else can replace the practice of daily medita-tion." Apostolic Exhortation, 'Menti Nostrae,' 42-1950-672. *68. Efficac~t of private pra~ter. "There are others who deny any impetratory powers to our prayers and spread abroad the idea that prayers offered to God in private are of little value. Public prayers, that are made in the name of the Church, are those that really avail, since they come from the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ. Such an opinion is false; for the Divine Redeemer maintains closest union not only with His Church, which is His beloved Spouse, but also with each and every faithful soul in it, and He longs to speak with them heart to heart, especially after Holy Communion. It is true that public prayers, since they are offered by Mother Church and because of the dignity of the Spouse of Christ, excel any other kind of prayer; but no prayer, even the most private, lacks its own dignity and power, and all prayer is immensely helpful to the en-tire Mystical Body." Enc~tclical Letter, 'Mgstici Corporis," 35- 1943-235, 236. 69. "But here also there can be a sin of excess. There are some whose extravagant praise of the liturgical forms of the ancient ages easily leads them to a confempt of those of the later centuries and to despise private and popular prayers. Liturgy, which means all forms of worship established by ecclesiastical authority, is something last-ing and living that grows through the cefituries. An attraction for the youthful years must not result in a contempt for the older years . The essential thing in divine worship and the care of souls is always that the followers of the Gospel in the innermost depths of a good conscience seek God, reverence the majesty and the law of the celestial Godhead, do penance for their sins, confess their sins with sorrow and wash away their punishment with works of mercy, acquire grace and live rightly that they may live forever and happily. There are some who eat solid food and some are nour-ished on milk." Homil~t on the Fourteenth Centenar~l of the Death of St. Benedict, 39-1947-455,456. *70. Individual inclinations in praver. "Many of the faithful are unable to use the RomanMissal, even in their native language; nor are all capable of understanding correctly the liturgical rites and 131 POPE PIUS XII Review [or Religious formulas. So varied and diverse are me6's talents and temperaments that it is impossible for all to be moved and attracted to the same extent by community prayers, hymns, and liturgical services. More-over, the needs and inclinations of all are not the same nor are they always constant in the same individual." Encyclical Letter,. "Mediator Dei," 39-1947-561. "71. Multiplicity of prayers. "Above all, do not cease to incul-cate into the minds of all that the Christian life does not consist in the multiplicity and variety of prayers and exercises of piety but rather in their helpfulness towards spiritual progress of the faithful and constant growth of the entire ChurCh." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-1947,587. *72. "But it should be noted that piety and genuine and ardent zeal for prayer are worth more than a mere multiplicity of prayers." Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-673. *73. Spiritual routine. "When young men perform the same exercises of piety according to a practically unchanging daily rou-tine, we can fear that their interior spirit may not be entirely in harmony with the external practices of religion. By force of habit this can happen to them all the more easily and even grow worse when they leave the seminary and are engrossed frequently in the necessary performance of their duties." Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-689. *74. Externalism. "It is not merely a question of recitation or of singing [the divine office] which, however perfect according to norms of music and the sacred rites, only reaches the ear, but it is especially a question of the ascent of the mind and heart to God so that, united with Christ, we may completely dedicate ourselves and all our actions to Him." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39- 1947-574. *75. Ritualism and Formalism. "But the primary element of divine worship must be interior. For we must always "live in Christ and give ourselves to Him completely . This recommendation the liturgy itself is careful to repeat as often as it prescribes an exterior act of worship. Thus we are urged, when there is question of fast-ing, for example, 'to give interior effect to our outward observance.' Otherwise religion clearly amounts to mere ritualism and formal-ism . It should be clear to all, then, that God cannot be honored worthily unless the mind and heart are elevated to Him in quest of 132 May, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE the perfect life." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei,' 39-1947-531, 532. *76. "Besides, sin~e they [non-liturgical practices of piety] de-velop a deeper spiritual life in the faithful, they prepare the faith-ful to take part in sacred public functions with greater fruit and lessen the danger of liturgical prayers becoming an empty ritual-ism." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-1947-584. *77. Humility. "Let the priest not trust in his own strength, find undue satisfaction in the contemplation of his talents, go search-ing for the esteem and praise of men or eagerly long for higher positions. Rather let him imitate Christ, who 'has not come to be served but to serve'; let him deny himself according to the law of the Gospel and be not inordinately attached to the things of earth, that he may the more easily and the more readily follow the Divine Master." Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-662. *78. Necessity, motive, and purpose of detachment. "He g~ce himself to God and to souls entirely, forever, with no hesitancy, with no reserve. Here is the secret of his heroic training for the supreme victory. To give himself completely, he renounced every-thing . It would be folly to renounce everything and oneself only to make a desert bf oneself. This is not what is done; no one has the right to do it. The motive of renunciation is a greater and holier love. Of this you must be deeply convinced, beloved sons of the Institute of th~ Foreign Missions: for love of God, for love of souls your fellow-member was detached from everything and from himself. This detachment and motive are evidently com-mon to all true apostles, but such love is of varying degree accord-ing to the temperament, charactgr, and natural and supernatural gifts of each." AItocution on the Beatification of Alberico Cris-citelli, 43-1951-165, 167. 79. Penance and mortification. "Not all, particularly in our day, understand as they should this kind of penitential life. Many to-day consider it either of little value or wearisome and neglect it entirely. However, we are not to forget that the lamentable fall ¯ of Adam has infected all of us with the hereditary blemish and inclines all of us readily to the allurements of sin. Penance, there-fore, is.absolutely necessary for us, according to the words: 'but except you do penance, you shall all likewise perish.' Nothing is of greater force in restraining the disordered passions of the soul and in subjecting the natural appetites to right reason. When we 133 POPE PIUS XII Revieto for Religious emerge victorious from this struggle, even though we must follow constantly in the footsteps of Jesus Christ and in a certain manner crucify our own flesh, we shall even in this life possess those heav-enly joys and delights that surpass the pleasures of earth as much as the soul does the body and heaven the earth. Holy penance and voluntary mortifications have their own heavenly consolation that the perishable and fleeting pleasures of life cannot give." Canoni-zation of Marianna of Jesus of Paredes, 42-1950-611, 612. *80. Correspondence with grace and self-effort. "Very truly the sacraments and the sacrifice of the altar, being Christ's own actions, must be held to be capable in themselves of conveying and dispensing grace from the divine Head to the members of the Mystical Body. But if they are to produce their proper effect, it is. absolutely neces-sary that our hearts be rigbly disposed to receive them . Em~ phatically, therefore, the work of redemption, which in itself is in-dependent of our will, requires a serious interior effort on our part if we are to achieve eternal salvation." Encgc[ica[ Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-1947-533, 53.4. VI. MISCELLANEOUS "81. Government. Excessive bureaucraqt. "Finally We wish you to consider a thought that should guide and illumine all your pas-toral act, ion. Dedicate yourselves to it with all your souls. Give to all your activity the personal character of your spirit and your heart. We mean by this that you should be on your guard against an excessive bureaucracy in the care of souls. It is true that the proper management of the parochial office is strictly necessary. Your parishioners, however, must always and in all circumstances sense the kindness and paternal affection that beats in the heart of the pastor. Each and every one of your faithful should feel it, should be able to approach you easily and find in you the help and pro-tection that will fulfill the expectation of his trust." Allocution to Roman Pastors and Lenten Preachers, 43-1951-116. 82. Maternal government. "And now, dearest daughters, We pass on to give you two pressing exhortations. ;Fhe first is that of maternal affection in the direction of your sisters. It is undoubt-edly t~ue, as the psychologists maintain, that when in authority it is not as easy for woman as for man to find the exact balance between severity and kindness. This makes it all the more neces-sary to cultivate your maternal sentiments. Remember that for 134 Mar , 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE your sisters as well as for yourselves the vows demand a great sac-rifice. They have renounced their families, the happiness of mar-riage and the intimacy of family life. This is a lofty sacrifice and of decisive importance for the apostolate of the Church, but it is none the less a sacrifice. Sisters of greatness of soul and delicacy of sentiment feel this detachment most keenly. The words of Christ, 'He that putteth his hand to the plough and looketh back is not fit for the kingdom of God,' find their full application here, also today, and without reservation. But the order should replace the family as much as it can, and on you, the mothers general, falls primarily the duty of breathing the warmth of family affection into the common life of the sisters. You must be motherly in your ex-ternal conduct, in your words arid writings, even when this de-mands self-mastery. Above all, be maternal in your inmost thoughts, your judgments and, as far as possible, in your feelings. Beg Mary, the Mother of Jesus and our own Mother, every day to teach you to be maternal." Address to the Congress of Mothers General, 44- 1952-825, 826. 83. Union. Federation of independent houses. "The prolonged actual living and experience of a confederation can convince you of the great wisdom of the Supreme Pontiff, Leo XIII, in procuring that the various Benedictine families, commonly called 'black Bene-dictines,' be united by the bonds of a brotherly confederation, with-out injury to their own institutes or norms. By the realization of this plan, the autonomy or faculty of living according to their own laws, the original norm that g'uided your monasteries, was in fact adapted to modern times in a salutary and provident manner, since it was demanded by the changed circumstances and the common good. In ancient and medieval times, when communications were more confined, the care of the faithful restricted to lesser necessities and the pursuit of. learning less extensive, such autonomy was more consistent. Aren't the very congregations of Benedictine religious that have arisen in the course of centuries an evident argument that a.fraternal union of effort is desired for the strengthening and per-fecting of discipline? Isn't this proved also by the wider associa-tions that were formed, for example, of Cluny and Bursfeld? If the individual monasteries had remained entirely alone, the Maurine Congregation of Benedictines could not have acquired such high renown for advancing sacred sciences, and elsewhere also the luster of your outstanding fictixiity and solid honor would have been dimmed. POPE PlUS XII Review for Religious In this age, the greater facility of communications, the will that is found everywhere more prone to united efforts, the desire for wider learning, for counsel, the instriaments of zeal necessary for priests and also for missionaries to fulfill the expectation placed in them require federations, demand union. If autonomy is unreason-ably retained, there will be found perhaps monasteries that are unequal to their purpose because, of the small number of religious, and the discipline of the observance of rule can also be weakened and even dangers can gradually creep in." Homily on the _Four-teenth Centenar( of the Death of St. Benedict, 39-1947-454, 455. 84. "For the circumstances of our age, with its much greater facility of communication, the increase in the sacred duties and the greater learning required of ministers of the Church seem to de-mand a union of members. Indeed, the J~enedictine Congregations erected in the past are a proof that the progress of the religious life demands that brothers unite their labors with their brothers." Approual and Confirmation of the Constitutions of the Confeder-ation of the Benedictine Monastic Congregations, 44-1952-521. 85. "In view of changed circumstances there are now many con-siderations which make it advisable and sometimes even necessary to confederate monasteries of nuns." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43-1951-13. 86. Centralization. "When the number of houses had so in-creased, the discerning superioress perceived clearly that it is most difficult to attain a unity of religious spirit and to preserve for any length of time union between different houses completely subject to the ordinaries of the" individual places. She realized that no small utility would accrue to the entire congregation i~ it were ruled by a common and uniform government, in which the strength of any institute and the life of religious discipline almost consist. For the attainment of this purpose nothing seemed to her more oppor-tune and suitable than to subject all the houses, whether already founded or to be founded in the future, to the house at Angers and to place a mother general over th~ entire congregation. This intention, although approved by the Bishop of Angers and other very prudent men, gave rise to a serious controversy . These dissensions could not but greatly sadden Mary of St. Euphrasia but were powerless to break her spirit or weaken her constancy. ¯ . . The Sacred Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, on Janu-ary 9, 1835 . approved the intention of the servant of God, 136 May, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE and Pope Gregory XVI, of happy memory, deignedto confirm this decree in all respects . This same Predecessor of Ours, after the matter bad again been subjected to a thorough examination . solemnly confirmed that decree." Decretal Letters of Canonization of St. Mary of St. Euphrasia, 33-194.1-141. 87. Nuns. Introduction of solemn vows. "All monasteries [of nuns] in which only simple vows are taken shall be entitled to ask for the introduction of solemn vows. In fact, unless there are serious reasons to the contrary, they shall take steps to return to the solemn vows." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43- 1951-16. 88. Necessity of at least minor papal cloister. "Papal cloister, either major or minor, is to be regarded as a necessary condition not only that solemn vows may be taken but also that those monas-teries in which simple vows are taken may hereafter be considered true monasteries of nuns according to can. 488, 7°." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43-1951 - 17. 89. "If however it appears with certainty that in any monas-tery [of nuns] even the minor cloister cannot regularly be ob-served, that monastery is to be converted to a house of either a congregation or a society." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43-1951-17. 90. Unity among rebgious institutes. "Harmony and generous agreement between the different religious families can be very favor-able in attaining such a desirable outcome. Mutual knowledge and encouragement, a holy rivalry cannot but be of mutual advantage. Splendid initiatives are already apparent in this respect; it remains only to perfect them." Apqstolic Exhortation to the International Convention of Teaching Sis'ters, 43-1951-743. 91. Praise of Religious Women. "How could the Church in later and more modern times have fully accomplished her mission with-out the work of the hundreds of thousands of religious women per-formed with such great zeal in education and charity? How could she accomplish it in our day? May your dedication, love and sac-rifices, so frequently hidden and unknown but suffered for love of ¯ Christ to benefit youth, produce in the future, as in the past, a hundred-fold of good! May the Lord reward you for it and pour out on you the abundance of His divine favors!" Apostolic Ex-hortation to the International Convention of Teaching Sisters, 43- 1951-739. 137 POPE PIUS 92. Clerical and religious states. "It is a distortion of the truth to say that the clerical state as such and as of divine law demands .either by its very nature or by some postulate of that nature that the evangelical counsels be observed by its members and that for this very reason it must or may be called a state of achieving evan-gelical perfection . So too, the fact that the priests of the Latin rite are bound to observe holy celibacy does not remove or lessen the distinction between the clerical and the religious states. More-over, a member of the regular clergy professes the state and condition of evangelical perfection not inasmuch as he is a cleric but inas-much as he is a religious." Address to the General Congress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-29. 93. Exemption. "Again, the exemption of religious orders is not contrary to the principles of the constitution given to the Church by God nor does it in any way contradict the law that a priest owes obedience to his bishop. For, according to canon law, exempt religious are subject to the authority of the local bishop so far as the administration of the episcopal office and the well-regulate~d care of souls require. But even putting aside this consideration, in the discussions of the past few decades concerning the question of exemption perhaps too little attention has been paid to the fact that exempt religious, even by the prescriptions of canon law, are always and everywhere subject to the authority of the Roman Pontiff as their supreme superior and that they owe obedience to him precisely in virtue of their vow of obedience . It is there-fore clear that the primary law of God whereby the clergy and the laity are subject to the rule of the bishop is more than sufficiently observed as regards exempt religious, as it is no le~s clear that both branches of the clergy by reason of their parallel services conform to the will and precept of Christ." Address to the General Congress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-28, 29. *94. Adequate support. "What is more, Venerable Brethren, We heartily commend the plans that you will discuss to insure that priests be provided not only with means to meet their daily needs but also with assurances of assistance for the future--as We are happy to see done in civil society--particularly for cases in Which they may fall ill, be 'afflicted with chronic ill health, or be weakened by old age. Thus you will relieve them of all anxiety for the future." Apostolic Ex-hor. tation,. "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-698. .138 Through I-lis Blood Joseph H. Robling, C.PP.S. IF variety is the spice of life in general, it is also, in a sense, the spice of our supernatural life. If, for example, we have been considering certain revealed truths from the selfsame aspect so long that they scarcely impress us any more, it is helpful to con-sider them from some other aspect for a while. Many such variations are possible. Among them is the con-sideration of the truths of faith from the aspect of the precious blood of our Lord. This aspect was adopted very notably by St. Gaspar del Bufalo, who was canonized on June 12 of last year. He is called the Apostle of the Precious Blood, not only because he founded the Society of the Precious Blood in Rome in 1815, or because he fostered the pious union of the same name, but also be-cause in his very effective preaching of missions and retreats in the Papal States over a period of more than twenty years before his death in 1837 he frequently focused the attention of his hearers on the precious blood and from that vantage point drove home his message of instruction and exhortation. For this purpose during his sermons he sometimes held a large crucifix portraying the figure of the bleeding Savior and wore on his breast the now familiar mis-sion cross showing our Redeemer in the act of sacrificing even His own blood for sinners. Considering revealed truths from the aspect of the precious blood, we may profitably reflect, for instance, that no grace whatever comes to us independently of the sacrificial blood of Christ; for no grace is given to fallen mankind except that merited for us by the bloody sacrifice of our Redeemer on the cross. This same sacrifice was fore-shadowed and foretold in the Old Testament and is renewed and perpetuated by the holy Mass in the New. Furthermore, since we receive no grace independently of the precious blood, we also would have no means of grace without it--no Church, no priesthood, no sacraments, no sacramentals, no fruitful prayer. Again, since no one can be saved without grace, we can truthfully say that without the precious blood there would be no saint in heaven nor any soul in purgatory, nor even any just man on earth. Without it there would be neither justification nor salvation for any human .person. The blood of Jesus speaks better than the blood.of Abel (Heb. 12:24). It speaks of our Savior's lo,¢e and foFgivenes.s, of the ~13_9 JOSEPH H. ROHLING reality and extent of His sufferings, of the sacrifice He offered and the price He paid, of the tangible evidence and measure of His love for souls, of the mercy and pardon He holds out to repentant sin-ners, and His nourishing of souls in Holy Communion. It teaches the value of an immortal soul, for with St. Paul every human person can say, "He gave himself up for me" (Gal. 2:20), that is, He sacrificed even His own blood for me. And if our own soul., is so valuable in His sight, so is the soul of every other human being. Therefore, it teaches us zeal for souls and forms a powerful motive for missionary undertakings. It also teaches us the value of suffer-ing. If Jesus was willing to go to the extreme limit of shedding His own blood for me, how can I refuse Him the lesser sufferings and inconveniences and sacrifices He asks of me? Modern man tends to regard suffering as the greatest evil. The precious blood, on the other hand, teaches us that sin is a greater evil, because the Son of God was willing to undergo even a bloody death in order that sin might be taken away. The precious blood also supplies us with important motives for contrition and. amendment, for by sin we offend Him "who has loved us and washed us from our sins in hi~ own blood" (Apoc. 1:5). By committing mortal sin we lose all the sanctify-ing grace purchased for us at the price of our Redeemer's blood. Baptism an'd penance cleanse us from sin and punishment insofar as ¯ they infuse sanctifying grace and thus apply the merits of the pre-cious blood. The sacramental anointing with holy oil in confir-mation and 'extreme unction give supernatural strength to the soul because they apply these same merits in their specific way and for their specific purposes. Holy Orders and matrimony give the special graces for which they were.instituted and in'that way apply the merits of the blood of redemption to the recipients to enable them to fulfill the obligations of their respective states of life. The Holy Eucharist nourishes the recipient on the very blood itself that he may have everlasting life and be raised up on the last day (John 6:56). These examples will suffice to illustrate the manner in which 'we can regard the eternal truths from the aspect of the precious blood. For those who have not been using this approach, it may serve as a welcome variation in their prayer and meditation. St. Gaspar del Bufalo used this approach to great advantage. God blessed his efforts. By canonizing him the Church proposes him as a model for all of us. May we benefit by his example! 140 Community Lit:e Bernard I. Mullahy, C.S.C. yOU often hear it said that one of the principal reasons why there are not more vocations to the religious life is that young people find it hard to give up their social life, or that one of the things young women find most difficult in the convent is the lack of social life. Everyone understands What is meant by this, of course; yet, to suggest that in reality the religious life means a denial of social life is to misunderstand either the nature of the religious life or the true meaning of social life or, more fundamen-tally, the nature of the Christian life and its relation to the re-ligious life. The religious life is not something apart from thi~ Christian life, not even something added on to it; it is the Christian life lifted to its maximum dimensions. The religious life is simply a state which provides the best conditions for living the Christian life in the fullness of its perfection and beauty and splendor. Our religious vows are buta fulfillment of our baptismal vows; and perhaps the fact that so many of us have the habit of renewing our religious vows frequently while .hardly ever thinking of renewing our bap-tismal vows is an indication that we do not appreciate clearly and explicitly enough the vital relation between what happened to us on the day of our profession and what happened to us on the day of our baptism. Religious vocation is a flowering of our original vocation to be Christians, and we would surely have a deeper un-derstanding of the implications of our religious life if we had a fuller and clearer appreciation of the meaning of the Christian life. Now the Christian life is essentially a social life. It is a par-ticipation in the communal life of the Trinity and of the Mystical Body. And it goes without saying that this is the most intimate and intense social life conceivable. If then the whole meaning of religious vocation is to lift the Christian life to full perfection, it follows that one of the main purposes of the religiou's life, particu-larly in its cenobitic form, is to enal~le the Christian to live the sociai life of the Mystical Body and of God Himself in the fullness of its intensity and intimacy. This, it would seem, is the inner meaning of our community life. If we are not sufficiently conscious of this inner meaning, the reason may be that we are in the habit of viewing community life 141 BERNARD 1. MULLAHY Revietv {or Religious too much as a purely disciplinary thing, as something which rigor-ously rules out all singularity; every tendency to withdraw from community recreation and other community functions, every infrac-tion of the common life which might offend poverty in any way: we do not view it in the whole context of the Christian life, nor do we trace it back to its doctrinal and sacramental sources. There are three principal aspect~ of the Christian life: doctrine, worship, and moral action; or, in other words, the three C's: creed, cult, and code. In the spirituality characteristic of our times, there has been a tendency to stress code and moral action in isolation from creed and cult, from doctrine and worship. When this is done the Christian life and the religious life are viewed primarily in terms of asceticism, in terms of spiritual practices which are seen less as acts of divine worship than as exercises to perfect the soul. There is a concentration on sanctifying the will by a pattern of ascetical rules without at the same time illumining and enriching the mind with the doctrinal wellsprings of the Christian life. This tends to make the Christian life a kind of ethical and legalistic thing. Perhaps we have been in the habit of thinking of community life too much from this point of view. Perhaps we have seen it too much in terms of code, and not enough in terms of creed and cult; and it might be helpful for us to try to situate it in its proper context of doctrine and worship. To try to get at the doctrinal source of community life is to ask the question, Where is community life lived in its fullest and most perfect form? The answer, as we have already suggested, is: the Blessed Trinity. The life of the Trinity is essentially a com-munity life. G6d not only has community life, He is community life. He is a community of three Persons whose life,consists in an eternal, mutual outpouring of light and love, an outpouring that is so intense and so utterly altruistic that it constitutes the very per-sonality of the members of the community. Here is community life in its perfection: the personality of each of the members consists in being a living relation to the other members, nothing more, nothing less. Here is the common life in its fullest dimensions: none of the members possesses-anything absolute, anything at all, by Himself alone; everything absolute is shared in common. Here, as in a re-ligious community, the common life is founded on poverty, that mysterious, infinitely rich poverty of the three divine Persons which make it impossible to possess anything absolute as belonging to them personally. 142 Mag, 1955 COMMUNITY LIFE Our religious vows meant an entrance into a community life. So also did our baptismal vows. At baptism a real participation in the infinitely altruistic, communal life of the Trinity was put into our souls; and we were caught up in the intense and intimate social intercourse of the three divine Dersons. From then on we were des-tined to live the community life of the Mystical Body of Christ. From then on our vocation was to live not an isolated or insulated or introverted life, but a life of perfect altruism. This meant that our Christian personality would have to have something of the per-sonality of the three divine Persons; we wduld have to become a living relation to others: our joys, our riches, our prayer would have to be theirs; their poverty, their sorrows, their sufferings would have to be ours. The community life of the Mystical Body is a thing of vast proportions, for it embraces the whole Communion of Saints: the Church militant and suffering and triumphant. The proportions are so vast and the states so different that it is difficult for us while in this life to realize its far-reaching implications. Even if we limit our view to the Church militant, the distances are so great, there is such a lack of immediate contact, and there are so many differences of national traits and cultures and backgrounds, so many divisive forces, that it is not easy for us to have the sense of achieving close social intercourse. The parish is, of course, the natural communal unit in the Mystical Body; but here also differences of backgrounds and occupations and many other things seem to put a limit upon the intimacy and intensity of the social relations. The family, too, has its drawbacks, such as the immaturity of the children, for ex-ample. But in the religious community all these limitations dis-appear; and perhaps we may be permitted to think that one of the principal reasons why God brought religious communities into ex-istence was to provide a state which would have the ideal condi-tions for living the communal life of the Blessed Trinity and of the Mystical Body with the fullest intensity with which it is pos-sible for man to live it here on earth. In the religious state ~ire found the most perfect conditions for reflecting the social life of God. Here everyth{ng is possessed in common, and what belongs to one belongs to all. Here the barriers, the divisive influences, and the differences in interests and o.~cupations so often found in the world disappear. All are inspired by the same common purpose; all are governed by the same religious rule; all are formed in the same spiritual life and .participate in the same spir~ BERNARD I. MULLAHY itual exercises. Here we should expect to find the fullest achievement of social life, the highest form of altruism, the most perfect self-lessness, the least degree' of spiritual introversion. Nowhere should social consciousness be more delicate and strong, more sensitive and refined. Here, as in the community life which is God, there should be a constant outpouring of light and love upon others; and, like a reflection of the members of that divine community, each religious should' be a kind of living relation to all the others. In a word, since the Christian life is essentially a social life and since the purpose of the religious state is to bring the Christian life to its full devel-opment, we should expect to find nowhere more than in a religious community the perfect answer to the prayer of Christ after the Last Supper: "That they all may be one even as thou, Father, in me and Iin thee; that they also may be one in us. I in them and thou in me; that they may be perfected in unity." That this ideal is not always fully realized hardly needs to be mentioned. Everyone knows that, even in the extremely favor-able conditions for social life provided by the religious state, social .maladjustments and social tensions can and do exist, that not in-frequently individualism and spiritual introversion are developed to a high degree. There are undoubtedly a good many reasons for this. But may not one of the principal reasons be, as we have already sug-gested, the tendency to stress the code of the religious state in iso-lation from the whole context of the Christian life? When the religious life is viewed principally in terms of asceticism and dis-ciplinary regulations, when more insistence is placed upon the moral virtues than upon the theological virtues, when the various practices which go to make up the spiritual program are viewed more as exer-cises of the spiritual athlete than as acts 0f divine worship, and when there is more insistence upon self-perfection than upon charity as the goal of the spiritual life, it is hardly to be wondered at if some religious succumb to the temptation to turn in upon themselves and to become spiritually introverted. And, when the official prayer life of the Church suffers at the hands of spiritual individualism and private devotions, when the liturgical life is not lived fully by the religious, and when his community life does not find i~s full and natural expression in the communal worship of the Mystical Body, it seems inevitable that the social implications of this community life will not be brought to fulfillment. Since the Christian life is essentially a social life, it is only natural that the official prayer lif~ of the Christian, the liturgy, 144 May, 1955 COMMUNITY LIFE should be essentially a social worship. And, if the purpose of the religious life is to. bring the Christian life to its ~perfection, are we not entitled to expect that, while each religious society will natur-ally want to insist on its own proper spirituality and spirit, the official social worship of the Church will also be brought to ful-fillment in it? May we not be permitted to suspect that one of the purposes God had in mind in raising up religious communities was to bring about the best conditions for communal worship? It seems incongruous and inconsistent to insist on community life without insisting on communal worship. Yet there are religious congregations which make much of community life in all its minute disciplinary details all the way. along the line (and not infrequently in an all too univocal way which confuses unity and uniformity) until it is a question of worship, and then individualism and sub-jectivism take over, at least to a large extent. We even find paradoxical situations in which private prayer is made public and public prayer private. Nothing could be more. personal and intimate than mental prayer. Yet it is not uncommon to find it turned into a kind of public exercise, with the same subject for meditation read out for the entire community the evening before, and all the same points read out in public during the meditation period the next morning. On the other hand, the greatest public act of worship, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, is often treated like a private devotion. It seems, therefore, that the community life of religious needs a rich doctrinal source in the dogma of the Church and a rich sacra-mental source in the liturgy of the Church. And, of course, the sun and center of the whole sacramental background of corhmunity life is the Eucharist. The Blessed Sacrament is the basic foundation for the common life because, as St. Thomas Aquinas points out, it contains substantially the common good of the whole Church. The community, life of a religious congregation will depend in lar, ge measure upon the way in which the Mass is understood and loved by the religious and upon the way it is participated in by the com-munity. In a very particular way, community life will depend upon the attitude of the religious towards Communion. In modern times there has been a very paradoxical attitude among Catholics. Some, re-alizing that Communion is not necessary to fulfill the obligation of hearing Mass on Sunday have come to look upon it as a purely external addition to the Mass. Others have made it the focal point 145 BERNARD I. MULLAHY Re~ieu] ~:or Religious of the whole Mass, as though the Mass were a Communion service rather than a Sacrifice. This latter attitude is the more common among religious. Comr~union viewed as an intimate personal union between the individual soul and Christ is made the center of at-tention; and, with the notion ~of sacrifice pushed far into the back-ground, the part of the Mass which precedes Communion is spent in a personal preparation for the reception of Christ; and the part afterwards, in a personal thanksgiving. It has not been unknown for religious communities to receive Communion regularly every morning before Mass so that the religious might spend the entire Mass in making a private act of thanksgiving. Fortunately, this sort of thing is becoming more and more rare. Communion can play its proper role in our community life only when it is viewed in its proper relation to the whole Mass, and the Mass in turn is viewed in its proper relation to the whole liturgical life of the Church. Then Communion xvill be seen as a social, sacrificial banquet in which the members of the Mystical Body corporately share in the Sacrifice and by feeding upon the Victim make of themselves one corporate sacrifice with Him. As Thomas Aquinas and other theologians have insisted, Com-munion does not mean merely a personal, private union between the individual soul and Christ: it also means a union of the mem-bers of the Mystical Body. Its proper effect is not merely something personal and individual, but something social and communal. Its purpose is not simply to give spiritual nourishment to tl~e individual soul, but to strengthen and intensify and revivify the manifold social bonds by which the members of the Mystical Body are made .one in Christ. Communion is directly related to the Christian community as a community. And for the religious, Communion is directly related to living the community life. If, as day follows day, the Communion of the religious is not gradually bringing about greater and more .sensitive social consciousness, a fuller and more perfect participation in community life, a stronger and more delicate exercise of fraternal charity, a more mature forbearance of the faults and failings of others, a greater capacity to cope with the misunder-standings and tensions which tend to creep into even the best com-munities, and a more generous acceptance of the many trying crosses which the common life always involves, something is wrong. Dhily Communion sometimes goes on for years withotit mu~b evidence of that growth in sanctity which would normally be ex-pected from° such frequent and intimate:contact with the source 146 ,~la~, 1955 COMMUNITY LIFE of all sanctity. As we have suggested elsewhere,1 one of the chief reasons for this phenomenon might very well be a lack of proper appreciation of the direct and essential relation between Com-munion and community. Because of this relation, any failure to live community life in its fullness will be an obstacle" to the full effects of Communion in our lives. It is not uncommon to find members of communities who by certain standards are considered excellent religious, and yet who seem never to have realized the social implications of their religious vocation. They are faithful to their rule, but in a very legalistic way. They are meticulous about every disciplinary detail; they are generous and sometimes even heroic in the practice of asceticism; and they are obedient enough when any of the obligations of com-munity life are pointed out to them; yet, intent upon their own spiritual life, the goal of which they conceive to be their own personal perfection rather than charity, they live a very individu~l-istic and insulated life. They never seem to enter fully into com-munity life nor to have any spontaneous contribution to make to it. They are socially cold and unimaginative. Just as demanding With others as they are with themselves, they find it difficult to under-stand and to sympathize with certain weaknesses of their fellow religious. Their fraternal charity is a kind of practised, artificial thing, lacking in warmth and mellowness. They are without social sensitivity and find it hard to enter into the feelings of others, to anticipate their wants. They are not thoughtful: and, when others are in need of help or there is some kind of community project to be taken in hand, they are usually busy with other things. All this may very well be due, at least in large measure, to a failure to understand and appreciate the doctrinal and liturgical background of community life in general, and to a wrong attitude towards Holy Communion in particular. These religious have never been made to understand clearly the social implications of Communion and have habitually viewed it only as a personal experience, an exquisitely close and intimate contact between Christ and their soul. Communion is thus but a part of their whole spirit-ually introverted program. It was the social virtue of fraternal charity that Christ gave as the distinguishing mark of the Christian. And, if the purpose of the. religious life is to bring the Christian to his full stature, in plenitudinern Christi, this social virtue should surely shine forth 1 Cf. "The Common Good," Worship, XXVII, No. 7, 345. 147 BERNARD I. MULLAHY Review ~o~ Religious in religious in all its splendor. This is the whole meaning and pur-pose of their community life. .In a sense, community life makes fraternal charity more difficult.because close living together seems to accentuate the many faults and failings of human nature which are often so hard to put up with; but at the same time it provides the most perfect conditions for living fraternal charity in its fullest dimensions. Religious are often anxious, especially at the time of retreats, to find some norm whereby they may assess their spiritual growth. The measurement of spiritual progress is a very complex and an easily deceptive thing, and it is difficult to find a reliable norm to go by. But insofar as there is any reliable standard at all, it is surely the social virtue of fraternal charity. "By this will all men know that you are my disciples." And it is principally in terms of their social life that religious will be judged at the end. "In the eventide of life," says 3ohn of the Cross, ."they will examine thee in love"; and he is merely paraphrasing Christ's own description of the last judgment in which everything is made to depend upon social life: "I was hungry and you gave me to eat." Rooting the idea of community in its proper doctrinal and liturgical sources will help to avoid some of the misconceptions and excesses which not infrequently accompany the common life. One of the most ordinary of these is the confusion between unity and uniformity. The common life is viewed all too often in a perfectly univocal way and any lack of uniformity even in the smallest de-tails is considered a breach of unit~. There results a kind of lock-step existence; short shrift is made of personal initiative and re-sourcefulness, "and the religious "with ideas" becomes suspect. Even in minutiae the religio~s are expected to do only what their elders have done and are doing, and woe to the one who suggests that there might be a better way. Regulations multiply and accumulate in an attempt to organize the life of the religious down to the slight-est detail. Customs which .once made sense because of special cir-cumstances of time or place but which have long since lost their significance and propriety are held 'as sacred and inviolable. The accumulated weight of regulations and customs crushes and stifles' "the liberty of the children of God" which the religious came to the community to find. Community life becomes top-heavy: all initiative comes from the top; local superiors must get directives from higher superiors even in relatively trivial matters; and within the local house all new ideas, if they are to have any value, must orig- 148 Magl, 1955 COMMUNITY LIFE inate with the superior. Such a program is well calculated to pro-duce a standard product, a religious whose.chief characteristics are neutrality, passivity, and automatism. This description is undoubtedly sbmething of a caricature, but does it not point up a real problem? And is not the only adequate solution that broad and, beautiful vision of the corporateness of. the Mystical Body and of the liturgical life of the Church? Here is the closest and most intimate unity, but at the .same time the greatest variety and flexibility. Here is a structure that is not me-chanical and rigid, but organic and supple. Another difficulty in connection with community life is that it often tends to cut the religious off from participation in a broader communal life and thus, paradoxically, to create a kind of com-munity individualism. To what extent non-cloistered religious can and sbould participate in'the communal Christian life of the parish in which they are stationed is a. question that is too complex and too delicate to be treated here; but it is a question which sbotild be faced. For the most part, the community life of the religious cuts them off and isolates them from corporate parochial life, and perhaps it would not be im13ossible.to find ways and means of enabling them .to partidpate, to some extent at least, in the com-munal worship of the parish, which is, after all, the natural social unit of the Mystical Body. The paradox of community" individualism is also found fre-quently in an exaggerated esprit de corps which develops a kind of sectarian spirit among religious. It is perfectly in order for a re-ligious to be proud of the traditions and the accomplishments of his own congregation and to prefer its characteristic life and spirit to that of any other community. All that is part and parcel of his vocation to that particular sodiety. And there is such a thing as a holy rivalry between communities. But it is also possible for a com-munity spirit to become excessive, to canonize too easily the tra-ditions and methods proper to the congregation, to develop a false pride which in many subtle and implicit ways looks down upon other communities and which closeq the congregation in upon itself and makes it impervious to good influences which might come to it from others. Here, as elsewhere the only remedy is that total view of the communal life of the Church found in its doctrine and its .liturgy. St. Augustine's dream of the reign of Christ's love upon earth which prompted him to say, "And there will be one Christ loving 149 c. A HERBST Review For Religious Himself," should find its fullest realization in the community life of religious. Christ is living in each religious; and, when the com-munity is bound together in fraternal charity, there is but one Christ loving Himself. No one can sing the hymn "Ubf Caritas'" with greater truth and meaning than the religious. "Congregat2it nos in unum Christi amor.--It is the love oL-Christ that has brought us together and made us one." The. Third Mode of blumili :y C. A. Herbst, S.3. EACH master of the spiritual life has certain ideals whic.h are distinctive and which he considers of the utmost importance ~n his plan for achievirig perfection. For St. Ignatius of Loyola, the Third Mode of Humility is one of these. He thus pre-sents it in the Spiritual Exercises: "The third is most perfect hu-mility; namely, when--including the first and second, and the praise and glory of the Divine Majesty being equal--in order to imitate and be more actually like Christ our Lord, I want and choose poverty with Christ poor rather than riches, opprobrium with Christ replete with it rather than honors; and to desire to be rated, as worthless and a fool for Christ, Who first was held as such, rather than wise or prudent in this world." In order right in the beginning to get a better understanding of this, it will be well to present a fuller expression he gives in another place. "They must diligently observe, esteeming it of great import-ance and of the highest moment in the sight of our Creator and Lord, how much it helps and contributes to progress in spiritual life, to abhor wholly and not in part what the world loves and embraces, and to accept and desire with their whole strength what-soever Christ our Lord loved and embraced. For as worldly men, who follow the things of the world, love and with great diligence seek honors, reputation and the credit of a great name upon earth, as the world teaches them, so those who are advancing in spirit and seriously follo'w 'Christ our Lord, love and earnestly desire things which are altogether the contrary; that is, to be clothed with the same garment and with the livery of their Lord for His love and reverence: insomuch that if it could be without offence of the 150 Ma~l, 1955 THE THIRD MODE OF HUMILITY divine Majesty and without sin on the part of their neighbor, they would wish to suffer reproaches, slanders and injuries, and to be treated and accounted as fools (without at the same time giving any occasion for it), because they desire to imitate and resemble in some sort their Creator and Lord Jesus Christ, and to be clothed with His garments and livery; since He clothed Himself with the same for our greater spiritual good, and gave us an example, that in all things, as far as by the assistance of God's grace we can, we may seek to imitate and follow Him, seeing He is the true way that leads men to life." (Examen Generale, IV, 4.) We should know what the other two modes .of humility are in order to understand the third. I have the first when I so subject myself to God that I am ready to give up everything, even life it-self, rather than commit a mortal sin. I have the second when I so subject myself to God that I am indifferent to created things and am ready to give up everything, even life itself, rather than commit a venial sin. Subjection to God is the note common to the three; but the third is so different from the other two that there is a dis-tinction not of degree only, but of kind. The idea behind the third mode of humility is perfect imitation of Christ "Who, having joy set before him, endured the cross, de-spising the shame" (Heb. 12:2). We want to imitate Christ per-fectly. We want what He had, even, especially, the hard things. The early Christians ambitioned, and often attained, actual perse- ¯ cution and death. But, when peace came to the Church in the Ro-man Empire after 312 A. D., they could no longer look forvOard to martyrdom. What were the.y now to ambition as the apex of their spiritual ascent? Thence stemmed the doctrine of bloodless martyrdom in asceticism and the religious life. From this stream of spiritual development, the author of the Spiritual Exercises drew his ideal of self-renouncement for Christ. The driving force in fervent souls is to "get to Christ." We have a splendid example of this in St. Ignatius, martyr and apos-tolic father. His motto was: "My Love is crucified." When on his way to martyrdom he wrote: "I am now beginning to be a disciple; may nothing visible or invisible prevent me from reaching Jesus Christ. Fire and cross and battling with wild beasts, their clawing and tearing, the breaking of bones and mangling of mem-bers, the g~ind!ng of my whole body, the wicked torments of the devil--let 'them all assail me, so long as I get to Jesus Christ." (Ad Romanos~ 5; Father Walsh's translation.) "Ignatius of Loy- 151 C.A HERBST Review for Religious ola sensed, so to speak, his spiritual affinity with this man of the early Church when, in honor of this Saint, he changed his name from Inigo to Ignatius and in one of his letters styled him 'that glorious Saint for whom I have in Our Lord, or wish to have, a very special reverential devotion.' " (Rahner, The Spirituality of St. Ignatius Loyola, 59-60.) We might be inclined to think the third mode of humility as beyond our reach, as heroic. Is it heroic? Perhaps. Surely not in the sense explained by Pope Benedict XIV in his great work on the canonization of saints. But it may be heroic in a general and popularly accepted sense of the word. One who gives his life in a cause is commonly considered to be h~roic. A soldier must be ready tO die for his country. This is expected of every soldier. Yet, if he actually die, he is considered a hero. Sainted martyrs gave their lives rather than offer incense to false gods. In that they did only what they were obliged to do; yet they are considered God's heroes, heroic. At confirmation the bishop gives every Chris-tian a slight blow on the cheek to remind him that he must be ready to suffer anything, even death, for the sake of Christ. This sounds as though it is asking for heroism which, however, is pre-sumably within the reach of all. In the same way the heroism of the third mode of humility might reasonably be expected of those who are professionally travelling the high road of perfection. It almost looks as though a religious in making his profession has deliberately chosen as his way of life the third mode of humility. When he says, "I vow poverty," he says, "I want and choose pov-erty with Christ poor rather than riches." By taking a vow of chastity, he may be calling upon himself the disapproval of "worldly men, who follow the things of the world." By the vow of obedi-enc~ be is laying aside his own will by vcbicb be might push on to wealth, honor, and power. By pronouncing his vows, a re-ligious. has professionally taken on that foolishness of God which is wiser than men and that weakness of God which is stronger than men (I Cot. 1:25). He has/aid himself open "to be rated as worth-less and a fool for Christ, Who first was held as such, rather than wise or prudent in this world." ~The third mode of humility is a habit of mind, an habitual disposition of heart. A" striking act of self-abnegation now and then or even a spurt of fervor occasionally is not sufficient. It must become a way of life with us, a place in which we live. Father Considine puts it well in "A Question as to Ideals" when he says: 152 Mav, 1955 THE THIRD MODE OF HUMILITY "Within this region the Saints . . . have occupied sumptuous man-sions, in central and commanding positions, whereas the modest dwelling of any one of us may be no better than a poor cottage on the outskirts. But, poor as this dwelling may be, it must be within the border." (Woodstock Letters, 1908, 363.) Even of our miserable little hut on this high plateau we might say: "Better is one day in thy courts above thousands. I have chosen to be an abject in the house of my God, rather than to dwell in the taber-nacles of sinners" (Ps. 83:11). How I can come to live there is what should be of great con-cern to me. There is close approach to, or passive practice of, the third mode, if we make "acts of sincere th.ankfulness, as often as any little share of the cross falls to our portion. Even supposing that, on one occasion.or another, we have brought some humiliation on ourselves by our own imprudence, we may, while most heartily regretting the fault or error of judgment, no less heartily thank God that we have at least some opportunity of making up for the fault or error, through the patient endurance of discomfort or even (it may be) the contempt which it has brought on us." (Woodstock Letters, 1908, 372.) We need not search far to find ample matter for living this life with Christ, "despising the shame." "The life of a religious is full of occasions in which he is blamed, or forgotten, or scorned, or ridiculed, or humiliated . We must expect little humiliations that fall upon us at any time and in any place--in the form of failure, lack of consideration, disapproval and small acts of ingrati-tude; we must suffer the offense of angry words, words that hurt, words of ridicule; we must bear outright and thinly veiled refusals; our cross may consist in lack of approval, lack of sympathy, scorn or contempt expressed by a look, a gesture, an attitude, or in being left alone while another is made much of; we may be faced with open or hidden criticism which we surmise or discover by accident ¯ . . our meager talent, our character, our health, our appearance." (Vermeerscb, Miles Christi Jesu, 151, 154.) Thomas ~ Kempis says: "What pleaseth others shall prosper, what is pleasing to thee shall not succeed. What others say shall be harkened to; what thou sayest shall be reckoned as nought. Others shall ask and shall re-ceive; thou shalt ask, and not obtain, Others shall be great in the esteem of men; about thee nothing shall be said. To others this or that shall be committed, but thou shalt be accounted as of no use." (Imitation, III, 49, 4-5.) 153 C. A HERBST Reuiev3 for Religious I offer myself to our Lord for all these things. This m~y be .a general offering of futurables but they may be actuated at any mo-ment. Perhaps I am living with some of them right now. At any rate this offering shows a habitual disposition consonant with the third mode of humility, and there lies hidden in it not a little faith and love. When I am passed over or slighted or snubbed, I hope I may be able to bear it at least patiently. I make a great advance when I come to accept such things willingly and even with love for the love of Him who "loved me and delivered himself for me." Wl'ien I come to accept them with joy and even enthusiasm, glad that the Father has placed me with His Son, I 'have travelled far. This offering of myself for humbling things and the patient, loving, joyous acceptance of them should lead me to have the wish to have the desire for humiliations. "For though I burn not with so great desire as Thy specially devout servants, yet, by Why grace, I have a desire of this same greatly inflamed desire, praying and wishing that I may be made partaker with all such fervent lovers, and be numbered in their holy company." (Imitation, IV, 14, 3.) From the desire of the desire we ought, by God's grace, soon to pass on to "desire to be made little of, neglected, passed over, have little influence, even be regarded as suspect, be criticised, reproved, ridi-culed. We ought to have no desire for first place, for the higher offices . . . association with the more wealthy, the more aristocratic, or the leading men, no desire for the larger cities." (Coemans-Germ-ing, Commentartj, n. 251.) This, in a small way, is "to desire to be rated as worthless and a fool for Christ, Who first was held as such, rather than wise or prudent in this world." No motive but love is strong enough to carry one through to the attainment of so high an ideal. Without love even martyrdom of blood is to no purpose. "And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profit~th me nothing" (I Cor. 13:3). It is the same with bloodless martyrdom. And it must be a love of imitation and companionship. "With Me," Christ the King invites. "With Christ I am nailed to the Cross" (Gal. 2:19). "In what place soever thou shalt be, my lord, O king, either in death, or in life, there will thy servant be" (II Kings 15:21). Love always finds a way. I surpass desire when I am on the watch for opportunities and actually seek out occasions for practicing the third mode of hu-mility. There are always the humbler tasks to which no one pays 154 Ma~!, 1955 MARY AND JOSEPH FIND ,JESUS' any attention and to which are attached no praise or glory. Others will gladly let me have them. I can deliberately pass by positi6ns of influence and authority. I can accuse myself of my faults in a loud and clear voice. It may be more humbling dutifully to tell another his faults than to be told my own. The dependence ~ind humility implied in ~sking a permission, especially when I may be refused, is precious. It is sometimes all right deliberately to fail to show off my superior knowledge or ability. Letting others have the nicer place or things and allowing them to pass ahead of me is Christlike, too. In confession I can mention circumstances and motives connected with my faults that will be very humiliating. And so on. Love will find many other ways. This is the positive, aggressive, strong, earnest, eager, enthusiastic way "to be clothed with His garments and livery." Mary and ,Joseph Find ,Jesus Paul Dent, S.d. EVEN Mary and Joseph cannot find You when You choose to be hidden from them. But You mercifully choose to let them find You, too, lest I despair of ever seeing You face to face, 0 Jesus. Mary leaves Joseph for the women's court, thinking prayerfully, "Quam dilecta tabernacula tua, Domine. Concupiscit et del~cit anima roea in atriis tuis.'" A mother passes by, followed by her boy. How like Jesus he is! Mary looks around at her side to compare the two, and He is not there! Disappointed, she thinks immediately, "He must have stayed with Joseph this time. How fortunate Joseph is to have Jesus with him! How unworthy I am to have Jesus with me! With all my heart I want Jesus with me, but still I do not want Joseph to be without Him. I shall be patient and spend the day in loving hope of seeing Jesus at the end." Thus the day passes in loving hope, and it ends in disappointment. For Jesus is not with Joseph either, and now they both bare lost Him--neither of whom had ever lost Him before! But Mary loses no time in self-pity, much less in blaming Joseph. For quite simply Joseph would not be careless about Jesus. Mary realizes at once she is confronted with a deliberate act of God, a 155 PAUL DENT mystery she does not now understand but which God will make dear to her when He wills. Meanwhile they must go immediately to look for Jesus, calmly, hopefully, not frantically. They must go prayerfully, too. God guide their footsteps. Then there come three days, and perhaps nights, too, of looking for Jesus; and it is a search that is con[ident. For He knows of it and will reveal Himself to them when God wills. Mary and Joseph seek Jesus humbl: , too, realizing they are not worthy to find Him, much less to keep Him with them in their own home. They are persevering also in their search, for Jesus, for duty and love drive them on continuously. Duty obliges the world's best parents to give the world's best care to the world's best Child. The love driv-ing them on is that of creation's greatest lover--Mary Immaculate! --and that of her all but equal--glorious St. Joseph !--for Jesus Christ Himself, beloved Son of God. "'Nec lingua valet dicere, nec littera exprimere, expertus potest credere quid sit desum diligere." Or, as convert Father Caswall worded it, "Nor tongue nor pen can show the love of Jesus. What it is, none but His loved ones know." So Mary and Joseph, who have experienced more than others what it is to love Jesus, seek Him lovingly, so lovingly that all they think, choose, say, do, or suffer is just one thing--seeking Jesus lost. If all I think, choose, say, do, or suffer is just one thing, the one thing necessary--a seeking of Jesus lost or of Jesus never even heard of amid the dust and turmoil of the incalculable billions of thoughts, choices, words, actions, and sufferings of the innumerable billions of human beings of the past, present, and future--then truly I am in the company of Mary and Joseph; truly we three are seeking Jesus, and truly not only we three, but very many others whom we help, will find Jesus foreveL Then we shall all sing forever with new understanding and inexpressible joy "'quid sit desum diligece--what it be to love Jesus!" And those other words of this great and tender hymn of the Ages of Faith, this "'desu Dulcis Memoria," will resound forever as our arisen and immortal voices sing sweeter than earth's loveliest ~ing-ing, "Quocumque loco fuero JESUM MECUM DESIDERO! Quam laetus cure int;enero! QUAM FELIX CUM TENUERO~.--In whatsoever place I be, Jesus, I want You there with me. When You I find, how happy I! How blessed when I have You by!" 156 THE APOSTOLATE OF CHASTITY. By Ferdinand Valentine, .O.P. P ). 245. The Newman Press,.Westm~nster, Maryland, 1954. $3.25. ; The vow of chastity is a subject which comes in for much dis-cussion in modern ascetical literature. This interest may be con-trasted with an attitude which prevailed in days gone by that the vow of chastity needed no explanation. The need for an explana-tion of the vow of chastity may differ from age to age and place to place; but there is no doubt, I believe, that religious may profit from a thorough and competent treatment of chastity such as Father Valentine offers. The A)ostolat'e of Chastit~l is both broader and narrower in scope than its ~itle would indicate. It is narrower in that it treats only of the apostolate of religious women. It is broader in its con-cern with other aspects of this vocation. The first chapter, for in-stance, deals with the problem of prcJmoting vocations. Superiors will find some very prudent suggestions concerning the pr.oper at-titude to be taken .toward vocations. The second chapter then deals with some problems of psychological fitness. The rest of the first section goes on to discuss the problerfi of religious adaptation tO modern times. The author dbes not take .up the problem 'of chastity proper until the beginning of the second s.ection of the book. He intro-duces this section with a catechetical treatment of the vow and" virtue of chastity,; and then goes on to what appear~ .tO be the heart of the book--a treatment of the apostolic aspqct. "9.f .chastity. The theme of this section ,would seem to be' that 't.,h~ ~orfian will find in virginal chastity "not an asceticism which rFstrains and represses her natural gifts as woman and mother, but rat~er'.their spiritual elevation and fulfillment . " This is certainly a healthy and a positiye attitu,d,e toward chas-tity, and one which it would be well for religious .women to .under-stand clearly. But there is a tendency among.modi~rn authors to justify virginity by try!.ng to make it look as much like ma~rri.age as possible. There is certainly room for analogy" between perpetual chastity and marital chastity, but there is also a danger to be re.ck-oned with. perpetual chastity, from whatever angle you .yiew it, 157 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious involves the renunciation of marriage and haarital privileges. There is a certain negative.aspect of religious chastity, then, which cannot be overlooked, and which it would be foolhardy to ignore. There are forces for which the religious life offers no outlet whether direct or by ways of so-called sublimation. Herein lies the sacrifice of the religious. So, while one must condemn the morbid fear of sex and sin which cripples the apostolate of some religious, one must leave room for a healthy fear. This fear will be based on a clear under-standing of the religious renunciation and the difficulty of controll-ing the forces thus held in check. Such fear, far from doing damage, will protect religious chastity and set a safe limit to the love that may be practised in religion. I believe that the author was aware of all this, but it may be that he thought it beyond the scope of his work to stress it. But religious women will find the book inspiring and stimulating, though at times difficult .reading.-~JOHN R.CONNERY, S.J. FATIMA IN THE LIGHT OF HISTORY. By Costa Brochado. Translated and edited by George Boehrer. Pp. 231. The Bruce Publishing Com-pany, Milwaukee, 1954. $4.50. With rare common sense the author of this latest book on the apparitions of Our Lady at Fatima has limited himself to historical analysis, and left supernatural elements to the competence of trained theologians. The translation is lucid and forceful and makes intensely interesting the somewhat tedious chronicle of Portugese history. With inspiring results, the unconquerable Catholic heritage of the country is traced th, rough centuries of political and religious up-heaval. The tragic, yet factual and objective, narration of the havoc initiated by the Marquis of Pombal, and forwarded by the anti-religious iddals of Masonry, reveals a tremendous need for the spir-itual revitalization of Portugal which providentially succeeded the apparitions of Our Lady of the Rosary. Pombal, Mr. Brochado as-serts, was ultimately responsible for shatteiing the religious unity of the country. By such planned offensives as the banishment of the Sbciety of Jesus, severance of relations with the Holy Se~, and open-ing the country to the destructive forces of Protestantism and Latin Masonry, Pombal made it possible for the Triangle to supplant the Cross in Portugal. Assaults on Churches, exile of prelates, state control of religion, secularization of schools, profanations, robber-ies, arson, murder--this is the pitiful picture of the country as it agonized and labored to preserve its Faith against the .enemies of 158 Mag, 1955 BOOK REVIEWS God and all things Catholic. And yet, the influence of the Blessed Virgin was never absent. Two centuries before the definition of the dogma, Portugal had consecrated herself to the Immaculate Conception and had taken a solemn oath to defend and propagate belief in Mary's perpetual sinlessness. Furthermore, the rosary had been for centuries the lead-ing Marian devotion of the portugese people, culminating in a ver-itable "crusade of the Rosary". in the midst of,frightful persecutions immediately preceding the apparitions of 1917. Portugal had not abandoned her patroness in the hour of trial, and our Lady did not forget her heroic fidelity. Since the events of Fatima, the Church's enemies have suffered great defeats in Portugal. The rapid revival of faith and hope in the hearts of the Portugese people is perhaps the surest sign that the Virgin has again triumphed by crushing the head of the serpent. .The reader of this book may feel, however, that Mr. Brochado has taken too local a view of the significance of Fatima. Despite his purpose, as stated in tbe translator's preface, " to "place those events [the apparitions] in their historical setting and to consider their efl:ects on subsequent bistor~l,'" (italics mine) Mr. Brochado barely hints at any world implications. He deliberately avoids all reference to subsequent developments, such as the state-ments of Lucia which involve our Lady's desire for devotion to her Immaculate Heart, the First Saturdays, the conversion of Rus-sia, or the vision of hell with its threat to sinners the world over. Are these developments sufficiently historical to merit mention? The question is admittedly disputed. But inthis reviewer's opinion, the Holy Father's consecration of the world to the Immaculate Heart in 1942 and of Russia in 1952 has far-reaching repercussions, at least implicitly connected with the events of Fatima, which should not be ignored. It is noteworthy that Manoel Cardozo, in his pref-ace to Mr. Brochado's book, also seems to have sensed this lack of perspective: "Fortunately for us, Our Lady did not appear for the exclusive benefit of the Portugese (though they were favored above all others)."--VINCENT J. FORDE, S.J. SO SHORT A DAY. By Sisfer M. Eulalia Teresa, S.N.J.M. Pp. 281. Mc- Mullen Books, Inc., New York, 1954. $3.00. This book is the story of Mother Marie-Rose, the foundress of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary. Into the texture of this biography is woven the. inseparable 159 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Reuiew for Religious story of the beginnings of the congregation of Mother Marie-Rose and-i~s first.establishment at Longueuil, Quebec. It has been said that the most objective history, and consequently the best, is written by an author who is indifferent to his subject. Obviously, Sister M. Eulalia Teresa is not indifferent to the.subject of her book. (we would be disappointed if she were) ; and it is al-most as obvious that in places she lets her heart supply for his-" torical documentation. This, it seems, is the chief temptation of hagiographers. It must be said, however, that an indifferent author could not have caught the spirit of this foundress, could not have made it come alive as the author does. If the picture is overpainted in places, it is withal a vivid and inspiring picture. If ~he book is slow to take the reader's interest, it could well be due to the character portrayal and absence of conflict in the firs~ sections. The characters, are almost all painted in the same bright superlatives, and the st6ry lags for want of that conflict, internal or external, from which great souls emerge. Patience on the reader's part in waiting for character portrayal of deeper colors and better perspective is well rewarded. There is a new and welcome candor in the descriptions of the young pioneer sisters whom God called to the congregation of Mother Marie-Ros~ in its early days. Neither can it be said that the second part of the book is v~ithout conflict and the impact of drama:" The trials and persecutions to which the nascent coflgregation was subjected and the vibrant faith by which they were met are the heart of a ver~ real drama. So Short a Day makes this drama, enacted over a hundred years. ago, come back to life. The accomplishment of making history live again, of capturirig the pioneer spirit of this congregation and its saintly foundress is to be highly praised. Mother Marie-Rose died on her thirty-eighth, birthday, only six years after her congregation had been born. To:day her spirit. lives on in the 3,725 professed religious of her congregation and the 252 schools which her sisters direct. So short~ a day, so great a legacy.--JOHN POWELL, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BEAUCHESNE ET SES FILS, 117 Rue de Rennes, Paris. Initiation a. l'Oraison. Par Piere Brunet. His long experience BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS as ' professor at ,the seminary at Nancy has convince~l the author that most books on prayer do not meet the particular .problems,of seminarians fihd the secular clergy since they are written by and for religious. This book embodies his efforts to remedy that situation. Secular priests should find the book particularly helpful since it is written by one who knows their needs and problems. Pp. 326. THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. The Catholic Church and You. By William 3. Grace, S.d. 7Fhe Inquiry Forum at the 3esuit Church in Milwauk'ee, begun in 1945, has attained something of an international reputation for the large mea