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Issue 37.5 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development Immortality, Old Age and Death Developing Constitutions and Directories Volume 37 Number 5 Septe~mber 1978 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 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: $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 September, 1978 Volume 37 Number 5 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, 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. Not As Demanding an Answer Mary Corona, F.M.D.M. Sister Mary Corona, nurse and mid-wife by profession, has been a religious for 23 years. After fifteen years of service in Zambia, she is presently w6rking at a nursing home of her com-munity: Mount Alvernia; Bramshott Chase; Portsmouth Rd., Near Hindhead; Surrey, En-gland. Recently someone quoted a sister as saying that she will remain in religious life until or unless Mr. Right comes along. With the greatest respect for those who see the crises which presently exist in our religious communities as lying e!sewhere, I would submit that here, in this attitude, is both nut and kernel of the~ pyoblem. How big this. problem is might be difficult to assess, but it would seem fair to suggest that it is as large, or as small, .as the number of sisters dragging along who are oriented in this way. It is true that religious life is bedeviled with all manner of other diffi-culties, but these will never destroy consecrated living. Indeed, they never could;;for consecration is of the heart, and is able to stand against the ebb and .flow of contrary tides--but not that of the uncommitted heart. An-chorless, it drifts aimlessly to and fro. One can only feel a deep compassion for sisters living in this way. They have missed out on both sides of life, and the wonder is that they stay so long. Our way of life has little to offer once theheart grows cold, for all that remains is an existence Centered on regulations, work, meals--and frus-tration. Religious life was never rheant to be like that. It was never meant merely to provide board and lOdging while our heart plays elsewhere. It was never meant simply to provide a base to which we return every so often to pick up our mail and clean clothes. We did not make vows of religion just to obtain financial security, material comfort, and freedom from the re- 641 642 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 sponsibility of rearing a family. Yet all this, and much more, is implicit in an attitude of waiting for some one or something "worthwhile" to come our way. If we come to the point where we see our:institute as something separate from the Person who calls us, there is little wonder we lose our love for it. No one can really love an institution on its own merits. No sane adult waxes lyrical over the government, or glows with love about the local housing department. Institutions, especially legislative ones, are just not things which warm our hearts. Our own institute can soon come to be viewed in much the same way.-.:Once we have lost our focal point all else begins to diSintegrate. Riales become restrictive, authority becomes oppressive, ac-countability is no longer acceptable, and our eyes start roaming the world for a way out. Ways out are not difficult to find, and so the further we get from our committed attitude of heart, the more normal it seems to be wandering abroad. We may still talk bravely about the love of God. But words do not feed a hungry heart, and we are hungry---craving for love as only a woman can crave. Separated from the trtie center of our lives, we will v.ery soon seek out its counterfeit. Borderline friendships, such as sincere married women would consider out of the question, are accepted as offering "meaning" to our drifting lives. Social activities unbecoming to a life consecrated by vow are welcomed as a relief from boredom. Fantasies, imaginings, unrealistic day-dreams eat away at us until, predictably, we file our petition for dis-pensation. What started off as something so glorious finishes with a slip of paper authorizing us to go our way. It would be pleasant to think that this unhappy pic(ure is an exaggeration. But one only has to look back through religious perio~licals covering the last few years, and pick out the articles written by sisters, to find a substantial proportion containing material,of this depressing kind. So, what should our lives be? Although we rub shoulders with many another on our journey through life, in the final analysis it is our own individual experience that shapes our views and convictions. My own con-victions concerning religious life have been crystallized and refined in many a furnace. Therehave been times when it seemed that I, like many another, just did not have the necessary courage to go on. St. Paul seemed to me to have missed the mark when he said, "You will not be tempted beyond your strength," for on those occasions I was being sorely tempted, in a way that seemed to have far outstripped my strength. , Yet it was at this very point each time that help came. Some tremendous force seemed to pluck me out of the fearful void and I was set down once again on firm ground. I now know experientially what I had known pre-viously only on theory, that St. Paul was right in what he said,just as I also know that my vows were a bilateral contract, and God on his side has an obligation to care for me--and he will. I know that however far he tosses Not As DemandinR an Answ~er / 64~ me, he will cradle me again. I know that my life is as inextricably bound up with his as his is with mine. He cannot do without me any more than I can do without him. I might be dispensable to others, but he will never throw me hway. He calls me by my name, softly and gently, not as demanding an answer, but as begging a surrender. I am his cherished one, his beloved child, and all that I do, all the wrong that is in me, will s6mehow be colored by his great ~lo~ve for me. As I grow on awarenes~ of his love, I begin to drop my masks and lower my barriers; I unfold and develop, unconscious of the strength of his con-cern. I'no longer worry~ whether I am worthy to be loved by him--such questionings are futile, for his love is already a fact. I no longer fear to accept his love, worried over my shabbiness, because near him my tatters are transformed. ~. I am aware of my weakness, my need for help, my sometimes inability to "go itS' alone. 1 know that I nee~d friends, I need. encouragement, I n~ed acceptance and love from those around me, for the stuff of my being is human and craves these ~hings. But I do not need a lover, I do not need a Mr. Right. I would have no room for him. I would not know what to do with him, for all the time I would spend with him my heart would be crying out for my true lover, my Lord and Master. I wear His ring on my finger and there it will remain until in death another will remove it, for then all need of visible signs will have passed. I know I have many faults--some glaring, ¯ some tucked away--so be it. He will not allow me to persist in dangerous or damaging attitudes for long, but he will love them out of me, and in his tenderness will leave no scars. I_will never leave him, not through any strength or goodness of mine but because he will not let me go. He bargained for me at too great a price. Why should I want to leave him anyway? What fault can I find in him? Where has . he failed? What promise has he not kept? When has his love grown cold and~ his eyes sought out anothe~r in preference to me? I can accuse him of none of these things. Through~ut my life others have let me down, but him-- never! I have pained and anguished him. I have demanded my head, and he has given it to me. I have argued and tossed the ball with him, provoking a reaction and, having exhausted myself, found his long, beautiful patience waiting quietly to take me back again. I have never received a reprimand, not even in the deepest places of my heart, but in any wrongdoing I have only ever been conscious of his heartbreaking quietness while he waits, and, as we set off together again; it is as though the wandering past had never been. And so my vows and my ~religious life are only means to a glorious end. They are not my life, but the !oom on which the fabric of my life, the fabric of my love is being woven. They will hold all things together for me until the One I have loved so imperfectlyin this life will invite me to quit it and come with him, where, because he will never leave my side, I shall do all 644 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 things perfectly. And then, in the words of that delightful English medieval recluse, Julian of Norwich, "All will be well. All manner of things will be well." This then is what was promised to us on making our religious profession. We were assured that if we faithfully observed all that was implicit in our vows we would attain to eternal beatitude. We took the unknown future on trust, and in its unfolding we have doubtless experienced great joys and rich blessings, both interwoven with a handsome share of heartbreak. Things have changed, people have changed, we ourselves have changed. No one ever promised that it would be otherwise. Yet in all the movement in which we are caught up, God has remained constant. He has not, he does not, he will not change. So infinitely lovable, tantalizingly beautiful, how is it possible for us to want another? We have our Mr. Right, maybe we never stood still long enough to recognize him. Maybe we have never moved in closely enough to experience him. It is never too late, for in his constancy he is still waiting. He has not moved. He will always be waiting while there is the smallest hope that we might turn back. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS HAS MOVED! As of June 19, the editorial office of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has relocated from its Grand Boulevard location to its new address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development Philip D. CristantiellO Dr. Cristantiello is a consulting psychologist to St. Joseph's Seminary, St. Vincent's Hospital School of Nursing, the Dominican Sisters of Newburg and to Elizabeth Seton College. He resides at 130 Sherwood Ave.; Yonk.ers, NY 10704. Once upon ~. time a person could reiy on .his certainties. They accom-panied him as comfortable companions throughout life. For example, just about everyone knew that the priestho6d was limited to men, that homo-sexuality was not only different but also deviant and that no child born Robert would become, an adult called Roberta. It wasn't even necessary to discuss such matters. They were considered self-evident. Now, however, we have come uncomfortably to the realization that society has taken many of our "knowns" and chan.ged them to."maybes." So it is fitting to discuss the subject of psychosexua! maturity with a certain degree of caution. The views expressed in this paper are directed particularly toward pro-grams of preparation for the priesthood. It is likely, however, that many of the comments will apply to all who have chosen a celibate way of life. After briefly identifying some of my working assumptions, I shall discuss toe topics of sexuality, psychosexual maturity, intimacy and celibacy. In ad-dition, some questions about the effects of a homogeneous environment on preparation for. celibacy will be raised. The final section of the paper will offer some guidelines to seminary educators. Since each of these topics is so complex, 1 have focused my thougl~ts on their psychological aspects. My intent is not to minimize the moral and theological dimensions of these subjects. They are simply beyond my competence and are appropriately left to others. ~ 645 646 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Some Working Assumptions My discussion of psychosexual maturity is based upon certain assump-tions derived from empirical studies of healthy and mature persons and concepts of biological normality.~ These assumptions are: ---All forms of sexual expression are not equally reflective of normal psychosexual development; e.g., homosexuality. --The criteria for judging mature behavior in non-celibates will not necessarily be the same for celibates; e.g., procreation is normative ¯ for the species but trot for religious. --The absence of, or seeming immunity from, sexual striving and stresses is trot necessarily indicative of psychosexual harmony; e.g., the absence of conflict may be due to such mechanisms as repression. ---Mature individuals are not invariably stable or immune to dis-organization; e.g., a priest may have a personal crisis which tem-porarily disrupts confidence in his vocation, but over the long run the quality of his commitment can remain high. ---Strong, persistent motivations will assist the celibate in organizing purposeful-behavior; e.g., Christian directional stability helps one cope in an unstable, value-changing society. --The validity of concepts of psychosexual maturity does not rest upon their being evidenced in the personalities of most religious; e.g., in the Kennedy-Heckler stud), of the priesthood most priests were found to be underdeveloped. This does not mean, however, that psycho-sexual maturity is impossible in the priesthood. ---It is unlikely that I can propose a universally a6cepted concept of psychosexual maturity. The diversity and complexity°w, hich one may find in the experiential world of well functioning celibates has not been adequately researched and studied. Sexuality ' ~ ' The Sexualization of Celibate Life Sexuality is increasingly selected as a topic of discussion by celibates. The appearance of books, workshops, and articles devoted to various as-pects of this subject attest to this assertion. There is an apparent readiness on the part of many persons in religious life to address the phenomenon of "human sexuality. Indeed, there has been a curiously sudden emergence of "expert commentators" on the subject. In the past it was not that religious could deny that sex was a fact of life, but that many celibates simply did not regard it as a useful fact and could more easily avoid its role in their lives. It was not unusual for both religious and laity to think of celibacy as a state of being asexual. Today, with our widespread cul(ural relativism and appearance of psychological sophis- ~Douglas H. Heath, Explorations of Maturity (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1965), pp. 32-34. Warren J. Gadpaille, The Cycles of Sex (New York: Scribners, 1975), pp. 5-7. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 647' tication, many old views are being displaced. "Experts," even though they be far removed from formation programs, seem capable of speaking at:great length and with great conviction about the preparation of men for priest-hood. However else we may describe these times, most certainly it will not be called an age of humility. Another sign of how sexuality has saturated our culture is that the noun "celibate" appears more and more frequently in print with modifiers like "sexual" or "genital." This facile use of terms does not automatically signify any real move toward maturity; it merely misleads some into think-ing they have made a substantial step in that direction. In such a climate we may start to believe that using the language of sexuality is,synonymous with being mature. The articulated vocabulary of sexuality doesn't easily trans, late into the nonverbal language of behavior. Despite the recent proliferation of publications and the shifts in attitude, I am inclined to believe that the practice of celibacy and the sexuality of celibates is I,argely an unknown. There is .little available evidence from serious, systematic study which adequately describes the impact of celi-bacy on the~lives of~priests and other, religious. We have operate~ with many assumptions and assertions about how difficult ',c, elibacy is, its"impact on personality functioning, and what resources prove us.eful, and which do not, in sustaining a p,erson in a celibate vocation. There is relatively little verifiable information about the d~gree of'sucCess which priests and reli-gious have achteved !,n rema~mng faithful, and not much common agree-ment as to the criteria for defining a healthy celibate life. In addition, the relationship of successful celibate commitment to type of preparation, per-sgnality, work satisfaction and age has not been clearly delineated. It may seem overly ~imple ~to state.my next observation in relation to the practice of celibacy, but sometimes the obvious is neglected. Sexual ab-stinence, like sexual gratification is a part-time, not a full-time experience. Persons who actively gratif.y t.heir sexual needs do not do so continuously any more than celibates have to rehounce genital e~prgssion continuously. The point is that sexual abstinence may have to be continual in religious life, but that d0es" not mean it i~ continuous." While it may be true that we now live in a society which insanely operates as though desire and gratificatio.n were synonymous and need to be experienced simultaneously, we may have been equally absurd in the past by overplaying the sacrificial nature of abstinence. Ih a sense, ~then, in efforts to redress some of the problems associated with an asexual approach, our concept of celibacy now seems to have become rather Sexualized, Education for Sexuality The celibate may a,,ccept~the~fact of his seXuality but it may not help him very ,much because the meaning of this fact keeps changing as the celibate zContinual refers to an indefinite succession or recurrence of events while continuous implies ,an uninterrupted experience with unchanging intensity and'withou~ modulation. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 advances in age~ He soon learns that becoming an enlightened and re-sponsible sexual being is a life long challenge. Education for a celibate life is not just a task for the young seminarian. Sexuality presents different demands and has different meanings at different points in a person's life. For example, an individual may find the stresses ofa celibate priesthood. more manageable when he is young because a certain proportion of his interactions provide indications that he is regarded as an attractive male. As he ages, such reassuring experiences may0become infrequent and his self-image threatened. He may then become more imprudent in seeking con-firmation of his attracliveness as a man. In addition tothe changing nature of one's sexuality seminaries for the most part did not make it easy for students to acquire the knowledge, attitudes and skills which would enable them to understand what a celibate life-style entailed. While the introduction of courses on human sexuality has been of some help, there is still insufficient opportunity for students to discuss celibate life with priests and women religious because there still exists a sense of vulnerability and embarrassment among these groups. Preparation for a life of celibacy must involve more than such discrete events as coml61etion of a course in human sexuality, making vows or becoming ordained. Such events are no more a guarantee of mature sexual functioning for celibates than falling in love, gel~iing married and procreat-ing are for non-celibates. The seminary should strive: to impart to its stu-dents that the understanding, enjoyment and management of their sexuality is a continuing responsibility which must be shared wiih other persons. This responsibility does not cease with ordination. Al~ter a man leaves the semi-nary, he should be able to look forward to assistance from diocesan-spon-sored programs which will help him fulfill his commitment. Some Problems in Understanding Sexuality It is easy to assert that an understanding of the effect of sexuality on one's vocation depends upon comprehending the nature of sexuality. Such insight, however, is difficult to achieve. Our comprehension of human sexuality has been shaped as much by folklore and fantasy as by science and clinical experience. Our sources of knowledge have often been lacking in reliability. We have been limited as much by resistance in the scientific community as by social inhibitions. And what is perhaps more to the point, it is practically impossible for any individual to know at any given moment how his sexuality is affecting him any more than he generally knows how his circulation is affecting him. High sounding phrases like "sexuality is a fundamental aspect of personality functioning" are not much help in im-proving anyone's understanding of the role of sexuality in the priesthood or any other vocation. In fact, such statements often increase the dilemma because they make many persons feel secretly stupid not knowing more about what is so basic to their nature. For example, is a person':s sexuality minimally operative if he declares, "I do not need relationships with women Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 649 to know that I am male," because this is a fact that he can be sure of by referring to the anatomical evidence at hand? And is his sexuality maxi-mally operative when he admits "I need a woman to feel masculine," because masculinity is not a fact but a value which cannot be judged in the same .way?3 In the first instance the criteria to be used are physiological, whereas in the second they are cultural and subject to changes in value as circumstances of time and place vary. In short, discussing the influence of sexuality may be likened to dealing with a ghost. One can seek it out but never touch it. Psychosexual Maturity While we may readily acknowledge that sexuality is a real and com-prehensive aspect of our relationships with others, we are still left with the question of defining .psychosexual maturity. It is one thing to say that sexuality goes beyond genital expression, quite another to identify a healthy integration of the psychological and physical dimensions of one's behavior. Sexuality's potential is also its problem. A person brings to any human interaction a host of needs, vulnerabilities, attitudes and defenses, and he can manipulate them in a variety of ways. For example, if.an individual wishes to deny responsibility for his sexual acts he may rationalize by saying his behavior is determined by instinctive drives over which he has no control. If he is threatened by the changing roles of women he can extol the importance of tradition and the accuracy of existing male-female stereo-types. If he needs to reassure himself about his masculinity he can refer to the strength and passion of his sex drive. What I hope I am making clear is the complexity associated with psychosexual functioning. It takes a great deal of knowledge, experience and honesty to know whether one's sex-uality is operating as a mature or immature response to another person. There are several other reasons why it is difficult to define psychosexual maturity. First, the characteristics that constitute maturity may simply be those that are esteemed by the author of ttie definition, i.e., the definition may have little to do with objective reality but reflects the personal values of the author. It would be wise to acknowledge, however, that values do play a legitimate 'part in formulating a concept of psychosexual maturity. Even a developmental concept such as Erikson's eight ages of man which rests upon the assumption of an inborn sequence of phases coordinated to the social environment is not readily divorced from the issue of values.4 Secondly, mature men are not static stereotypes. Their individuality aFor a discussion of the differences between males and females, and the distinction between sex and gender, see: Ann Oakley, Sex. Gender and Society (New York: Harper, 1972) and Corinne Hutt, Males and Females (Baltimore: Penguin~, 1972), 4Some of the difficulties associated with defining maturity will be found in: Leon J. Saul and Sydney E. Pulver. "The Concept of Emotional Maturity." Comprehensive Psychiatry. Vol. 6, No. I. February. 1965 and reprinted in Cur~e.nt Issues in Psychiatry. Vol. 2 (New York: Science House, 1967), pp. 231-244. 650 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 remains viable because they haven't allowed themselves to be put into a mold. Studies indicate that "the further., a person develops, the more finely sketched is his individuality."''~ Stereotyped behavior is more com-mon with immaturity. Rogers has pointed out that a mark of maturity is openness to experience and that as this increases the less predictable the person's behavior will be. The person's behavior will be dependably ap-propriate, but not rigidly patterned.~ In short, we cannot expect that all psychosexually mature men will exhibit behavior which is exactly alike. Defining Psychosexual Maturity In offering a definition it is important to distinguish between appropriate and mature behavior. During childhood, adolescence or youth certain di-mensions of an =individual's behavior might be regarded as psychosexually appropriate. That is, his thought, affect or action might be suitable for or fit the appropriate growth period according to Freud's or Erikson's stages of psychosexual development. He would not, however, in my view be characterized aspsychosexually mature because he had not had the fullness of time to permit the development of a deep understanding, full acceptance and ample ripening of his capacities. Psychosexual maturity is evidenced in the fuller, accrued development and harmonious interplay of the individ-ual's psychological and sexual capacities within an ordered and ethical value system. Before discussing some of the behavioral aspects of this 9onstruct, several other generalizations may help clarify my position. Why is a reference to values included in the definition of psychosexual development? Menninger has stated that, "Insofar as choice determines behavior, it stems from some considerations of value.' ,7 Since it would be inconceivable to speak of mature persons without this dimension of choice, psychosexual development cannot be isolated from the influenc(~of values. There is no realistic way of separating the two. Adolescence is not successfully outgrown by sit'ply developing con-fidence in one's sexual and occupational identity. Development toward maturity rests upon the individual's ability to evolve an internalized value system? The individual making such progress, will not only recognize the personal reality of his sexuality, but will seek to identify, question, refine and incorporate a sexual ethic. Thus, the maturing individual discovers not only the vitality of his biological capacities, but also seeks to appreciate their value, understand their meaning and assume personal responsibility '~Roy Heath, The Reasouable Adventurer, A Study of the Development of Thirty-six Under-graduates at Princeton (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1964), p. 38. Also, Douglas A. Heath, Growing Up In College (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1968), pp. 4-19. 6Carl R. Rogers, "The Concept of the Fully Functioning Person," Psychotherapy, Theory, Research and Practice, Vol. I, No. I, August, 1963, pp. 17-26. tRoy W. Menninger, "'No Escape From Values," comment in Current Issues In Psychiatry, Vol. 2, p. 253. 6Warren J. Gadpaille, The Cycles of Sex (New York: Scribners, 1975), p. 338. Psychosexual Maturio, in Celibate Development / 65"1 for their use. His freedom to choose raises the prospect of making enduring commitments to fundamental values. This freedom to choose on the basis of what he values is a "strength-giving and maturing realization. It is the key that opens the door to adulthood.''9 Programs of spiritual development can make significant contributions toward encouraging this aspect of the matUring process. Psychosexual maturity is an approachable ideal but probably not an achievable end. It is more a direction than a destination. Psychosexual maturity is never completely static. Physical maturation, physical and psy-chological needs and human relationships are never finalized. The interplay of desire and control must be addressed again and again. The celibate cannot bank on earlier resolutions to provide certain and continuing pro-tection throughout life. Since personality resonates in response to life events, the celibate cannot be expected to acquire psychosexual maturity during his period of seminary training and possess it securely throughout his ministry. If he faces the vicissitudes of life, his development wili be an ongoing process. On the other hand, if he tended to avoid life's recurrent challenges his development will be retarded. Psychosexual maturity and immaturity will be basically reflected in the motives, feelings and actions that are part of one's interactions with others. In the following sections I shall try to identify psychosexual maturity and immaturity in more specific terms. Idehtifying Psychosexual Maturity Erikson has commented that "To know that adulthood is generative, does not necessarily mean that one must produce children. But it means to know what one does if one does not.''~° In assessing psychosexual ma-turity, one must ask what happens to the celibate's deferred generativity. Does it, like the poet Hughes puts it, "dry up like a raisin in the sun"?~ If we follow Erikson's thought, the potential to be generative exists in all celibates who concern themselves with the "establishment, the guidance, and the enrichment of the living generation and the world it inherits."v' It is clear, therefore, that potential ig not sufficient. Thus, the psychosexually mature celibate must keep his creative powers alive and utilize them in some publicly identifiable way. There must be a behavioral service to others, guided by an enlarged sense of communal responsibility for the enrichment and enhancement of the whole cycle of life. The mature celibate's generativity is principally demonstrated by an expansion of his ego-interests. An example of this might be a faculty mem-ber investing his energies in the development of seminarians. The young would not be suspect or feared. The faculty member would view his stu- ~Peter Koestenbaum, Existential Sexuality (Engelwood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall. 1974), p. 143. ~0 Erik H. Erikson, Dimensions of a New .Identity (New York: Norton, 1974), pp. 122-123. ~Langston Hughes, Selected Poems (New York: Knopf, 1959), p. 268. ~-"Erik H. Erikson, p. 123. 652 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 dents as a "welcome trust" for future generations. His work would be motivated by a caring commitment to help others share in the benefits that have accrued to him. The more mature a celibate is, the more his vision will extend beyond the topography of skin. Relationships with members of the opposite sex will be less a question of responding to a physically attractive person and more a caring response for what is good in the person. Such a view permits the celibate to direct his sexuality beyond genital expression. His attentiveness to others' needs is flexible rather than fixated. His sexuality functions not only to make him attentive to the sexuality of others, but also to be in-sightful. Without insight his sense of celibate commitment will not find appropriate expression. This means being able to experience and acknowl-edge the attraction between himself and a member of the opposite sex without, as Farber put it, "the intervention of sex as motive or compul-sion.'' 13 He experiences his sexuality without guilt or denial and he pursues his relationship without the motivation of physical union. When he touches another person it is an expression of warmth, not a covert maneuver to incite physical arousal in himself or the other. The psychosexually mature celibate loves individuals, not an abstract form of humanity. He can be psychologically intimate with persons of either sex without domination, possessiveness, jealousy or genital expression. When problems arise intra-psychically or interpersonally he assumes responsibility for getting help without protracted delays. The psychosexually mature adult is able to recognize and commit him-self to values, cope with value conflicts, and assume responsibility for the consequences of his choices. The more mature he is, the more voiced values will coincide with his private thoughts and behavior. His sexual urges will not put his value system and behavior "out of sync." In ad-dition, what he values will be prized and not treated routinely. He will see his ethical principles as having validity apart from, but not necessarily opposed to, the authority figures in his life. In other words, his valuing process is alive and well--not latent, deferred or unconscious. While it is impossible to delineate all aspects of psychosexual maturity, there are three additional points of reference which may be useful in as-sessing psychosexual functioning. The first is that the more mature a person is the more he will possess awareness. His mental life will not be walled off from his bodily functioning and powers. The mature celibate will be able to recognize and draw inferences from his sexual responses as they affect his interactions. The second is that his response to the requirement of celibacy will be more than acquiescence or conformity. He will have understood what he was choosing and was willing to accept it without bitterness. The more that an individual finds celibacy an ifiaposition, the more it will di-minish his degree of psychosexual harmony, just as the more he is re- ~Leslie H. Farber, "'He Said, She Said," Commentary, March 1972, p. 53. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 653 pressed sexually the more his awareness will be constricted. The third point of reference is the individual's commitment to synthesis. If he is unable to take the various dimensions of himself and integrate them with his Christian commitment be'will be a fragmented personality. There must be a harmony bet.ween thinking, feeling, and acting if the individual is to move toward psychosexual maturity in religious life. Recognizing Psychosexual Immaturity When a celibate's thought, affect or behavior becomes absorbed with compensatory processes, his level of maturity may be questioned. Some examples of immature compensatory measures for the lack of genital ex-pression are: vicarious participation in the heterosexual experiences of parishioners or psychic over-involvement in seminarians' conflict about celibacy; absorption with making one's physical appearance attractive so as to gain admiration as a substitute for the absence of sexual contact; denying or demeaning the value and pleasure of genital expression.; and taking refuge in consoling fantasies of sexual gratification and conquest. A per-son's psychosexual development will not endure the challenges of celibacy very well if it rests upon a foundation of compensatory measures. The way in which a celibate experiences required heterosocial limita-tions and sexual abstinence is indicative of his level of psychosexual ad-justment. Neither gratification nor frustration exist in abstract form; both have cognitive aspects which affect emotions and behavior. For example, sexual abstinence can be experienced by the individual as frustration, i.e., lack of opportunity to achieve a desired pleasure, or it can be experien.ced as deprivation, i.e., something which he has been unfairly kept from en-joying. The difference between experiencing a sense of loss and sacrifice (frustration) and a sense of being forcibly dispossessed (deprivation) is a fine distinction in perception. Nonetheless, it is one which will profoundly color the celibate's response, influencing both his mood and behavior. The first type of perception can lead to the learning of tension and frustration tolerance which is an essential ingredient in healthy ego development. The second type of perception can lead to covert gratifications and severe intrapsychic conflicts. More generally, the more that a person's relationships are determined by subjective states of deprivation (e.g., loneliness) or physical drives (e.g., erotic urges), the more easily his judgment will be impaired, his behavior driven and his communication pressured. Under such conditions his sex-uality will keep him awake but not very alert or smart. It will be increasingly difficult for him to keep from narrowing the focus of his attention, and his interactions with others will be directed toward goals which he indepen-dently determines. The more that a person ,has been unable to accept and integrate his sexuality, the more he will use defense mechanisms like re-pression and projection to alleviate h.i~guilt. t554 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Psychosexual immaturity is bound up with the individual's personality dynamics. A comparison may help clarify this generalization. A passive-submissive celibate is likely to wait for a seductive situation to short-circuit his own vague intentionality, while an obsessive-compulsive will rely on some feared imperative to insulate himself from his sexuality. The pas-sive- submissive tends to relinquish his own indefinite goals under someone else's influence while the obsessive-compulsive, unable to compromise his perfectionism, seeks an unquestionable tenet to banish doubt from his decisions. The first exaggerates the extent to which his behavior has been determined by external circumstance, the second invokes an authoritative precept to relieve him of personal responsibility. Both suffer from a de-ficient sense of autonomy which in turn diminishes the degree of psycho-sexual maturity. An attempt to recognize immaturity is not a trivial matter. There is no universally accepted compendium or list of mature and immature behav-iors. In addition, the attempt is to illuminate psychosexual behavior not codify it. One cannot take a complex concept like psychosexual maturity and reduce it to a systematic and definitive collection of behaviors. This does not mean, however, that questions about a celibate's psychosexual maturity are to be dismissed cavalierly. The difficulties associated with such an assessment do not negate the fact that the quality of a person's psychosexual functioning impinges upon the effectiveness of his ministry to others. Immaturity is not a private affair. Wherever it exists it draws at-tention to itself and spreads like a contagion sapping energy from the maturity of others. Celibacy and Intimacy , Intimacy The. term intimacy enjoys a leading place in the popular idiom of celi-bates almost to the point of being accorded reverential respect. Despite the difficulty of offering fresh comment on something so in fashion, the subject is ,too central to be avoided. One reason why intimacy attracts such concern is the interpersonal mobility required of priests. Many pastoral contacts are so compressed in time they end up being fragmentary relationships. In addition, each time a priest takes a new assignment, a certain number of friends are lost. Replacement of such friendships is difficult, especially for those with limited flexibility. These factors, combined with others (e.g. ,job dissatisfaction) can create an overpowering sense of isolation and thereby threaten one's psychosexual adjustment. In spite of our tendency to venerate intimacy, it is not a universally desired experience. The prospect of closeness may repel as often as it attracts. In intimacy one gives up control of what is seen by the other. One cannot enjoy privacy without being, in a sense, "public." Thus, a major question facing a person who commits himself to celibate life is deciding Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 655 whether he will share his real identity with that of others. If he did not choose the vocation to avoid intimacy, he assumes a major task in deter-mining how to share his personal self. To what extent can an adult ex-perience love or develop close relationships with other adults when geni-tality is renounced? A loving sexual union permits a truly intimate self-disclosure; an unfeared self-abandonment and loss of ego boundaries that non-genital friendships seemingly cannot match. How is the celibate to prevent an atrophy of his capacity for intimacy and not isolate himself with self-absorption? These questions are important because the strength de-rived from successfully managing the issue of intimacy vs. isolation is necessary for further psychosexual development. The usual answer to the questions posed is that a celibate can satisfy his needs for intimacy in non-genital friendships. This, of course, can be a normal and satisfactory means of self-disclosure for experiencing oneness with another. In this regard one of the usual cautions cited is that "celibate people need to be aware of the difference between intimacy, tactility and genitality.''~'~ I do agree with Goergen's suggestion that celibates need to distinguish these dimensions of relating. I think, however, that in otir warn-ings to celibates about the dangers of touch and sexual expression in friend-ships we have neglected an aspect of non-geriital relating that is more likely to impede a successful resolution of the intimacy vs. isolation question. This negative'aspect of relating to which I refer will be termed protective partnerships. Erikson has defined readiness for intimacy as the capacity to commit oneself "to cbncrete affiliations and partnerships and to develop the ethical strength to abide by such commitments, even though they may call for significant sacrifices and compromises.''~ While many men in seminaries do develop group affiliations and personal friendships, these relationships sometimes reflect an unhealthy degree of mutuality. We have all heard about the possessiveness of "particular friendships," but the issue I wish to address is more a question of protection than control. A protective partnership involves a largely unrecognized conspiracy of two or more persons to maintain isolation and distance from others. The partners in-dulge each other's' sensitivities in a form of pseudo-intimacy. ~his relieves them of having to deal with the challenges of being intimate with others outside their clique. The partnership also serves to protect those involved from psychic injury and thr~ats ofdisconfirmation (e.g., from the needs aiad ideas of those outside the group). Individuals caught up in such protective alliances are uncomfortable with expressing personal needs and feelings outside the partnership. It makes them feel infantilized or overly vulner-able. Intimacy outside the safe confines of the partnership is avoided be- ~'~Daniel Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury, 1974), p. 159. ~Erik H. Erikson, "'Eight Ages of Man," reprinted in Current Issues In Psy,chiatry, Vol. 2., p. 253. 656 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 cause of distrust, anticipated ridicule, .fear of increased dependency or loss of control of emotion. They will rarely offer or accept intimacy outside the partnership. Protective partnerships are an inadequate resolution of the intimacy question. They pose more danger to an effective ministry than sexual in-discretions. Since they permit only weak identifications with persons out-side the boundaries of the partnership, such relationships discourage the development of empathy for others and set the stage for a righteous in-sularity. Thus, the celibate while believing he has become intimate has actually developed a Woclivity for provincialism and isolation. His further development toward stages 9f generativity and ego integrity is impaired. P. sychosexual maturity, particularly for the celibate, requires the ability to develop expanding rather than constricting identifications. Another thing which will hinder possibilities for genuine intimacy is an inadequate concept of celibacy. Individuals who have neglected serious examination of their own concept of celibacy or who operate with only a vague set of feelings about its meaning are unprepared for intimacy because they are unprepared for commitment. Celibacy without conviction is a form of sexual suicide. In an excellent paper on the psychology and asceticism of priestly celibacy Pable offers several sophisticated insights which can help remedy such limitations.'~ For the young person in a formation pro-gram, however, there are more basic points that need to be addressed, First, it is not uncommon to find that seminarians will become rather insecure if they discover a discrepancy between the degree of confidence they feel about a call to the priesthood and their acceptance of the celibacy requirement. Often they do not become aware of this lack of internal con-sistency until they are in advanced stages of preparation for their vocation. The way in which seminarians deal with this dilemma varies of course, but frequently the conflict is inadequately evaluated or avoided. Avoidant be-havior is not confined to students, however, for seminary educators are sometimes equally adept in delaying or delimiting opportunities to discuss celibacy. The inclusion of formal courses in human sexuality rarely rem-edies this situation completely. Often a main effect of such courses is to bring such conflicts to a level of consciousness without resolution of the concomitant anxiety. Secondly, when sexual fears and impulses are regarded as signs of weakness and as constituting a grave threat to one's vocation, attempts at emotional overcontrol are set in motion. A premature identification with celibacy is one means of putting such concerns to rest. Then, at some later stage, sufficient ego strength will have occurred permitting these concerns to resurface. For these reasons it is important to have competent counseling services on hand so that students can be readily assisted in understanding and dealing with such conflicts. Many of these students can eventually make a sound commitment to celibacy. ~nMartin W. Pable. ~'The Psychology and Asceticism of Celibacy," Seminao' Newsletter Supplement, No, 5, Vol. 13, February 1975. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 657 Clinical experience indicates that one should not assume the existence of a secure, firm acceptance of the celibacy requirement simply because students do not verbalize their uncertainties. On the other hand, seminary educators should not be quick to judge a student as unsuitable if he does raise questions or expose his doubts. Instances in which the celibacy issue was deferred or submerged until some external circumstance disturbed an earlier, and sometimes premature adaptation to the requirement are not unusual. Such a state of affairs may simply indicate that other aspects of the individual's development (e.g., intellectual learning) had to occur before the meaning of celibacy could be faced. Increasingly, students are taking initiatives in bringing their questions about celibacy into an open forum. Yet, there still remain in the minds of many seminarians strong fears that, if one were to air his true feelings, reprisals in the form of peer rejection and dismissal from the program might result. Thus, many go their own way for protracted periods of time without assistance in dealing with such internal tensions, thereby creating more ¯ problems for themselves and others. It is essential that seminary educators provide the kind of climate in which students feel secure enough to expose where they are at in their development. In the absence of the trusting climate, self-concealment reigns. In an untrusting climate the prospects of self-disclosure are decreased. This leads students to believe intima~cY is only possible in exceptional relationships. In such a climate associations with peers and fa6uity will be reduced to role playing in which the student seeks to conceal important dimensions of his psychosexual development. Even when he seeks inti-macy his tendency will be to obtain reassurances rather than candid en-counters which could challenge self-assumptions and expand knowledge of the quality of his psychosexual functioning. While any move toward intimacy is fraught with risks, e.g., rejection, exploitation and protective partnerships, it is nonetheless essential for healthy personality development in the young. Intimacy helps attenuate attitudes of egocentrism, suspicion, jealousy and omnipotence--all of which represent substantive obstacles to an effective ministry. Human sexuality is a stimulus to move toward others and away from self-cen-teredness. Without the challenge of intimate relationships the seminarian's potential for genuine altruism remains quiescent. A third point deserving consideration is the common practice of re-ferring to celibacy as a gift. This gift analogy can be psychologically mis-leading to the young person. Much of one's youthful experience indicates that a gift is a material thing, and that one can (or must) accept a gift whether one wants it or deserves it? With such an orientation to the gift analogy the seminarian may fail to give sufficient attention to his own readiness for celibacy, thereby setting the stage for problems after ordination. For when celibate Status is viewed as a thing given rather than attained, it is more likely to be passively possessed until "stolen, lost or given away." Thus, Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 if one insists, on using the gift analogy it should be stressed that the gift is a sacred trust and that its possessor has an obligation to prepare himself before it can be put to proper use. The proper exercise of such a gift depends upon personal effort to acquire the necessary knowledge and maturity. It should be evident at this point that my discussion of celibacy has proceeded in an explicitly psychological fashion. However, the question of celibacy obviously has religious value and theological meaning. Have I, then, given short shrift to these important dimensions of the celibate com-mitment? Specifically, has my concentration on personal development and effort slighted the importance of God's call and grace? I think not. Indeed, .my persuasion is that psychological analysis and theological insight are complementary. Grace does not replace the human process of develop-ment. It strengthens and perfects that process. And for God's call to be fruitful, it must be integrated into the mature growth of the human subject. Thus, the theological language of "gift" must be complemented by the psychological insistence upon mature human development if the entire sweep of human experience is to be engaged and the full implications of commitment are to be grasped. Creativity in Intimacy and Celibacy In completing this section on celibacy and intimacy I want to introduce the~subject of creativity for two reasons. First, I want to counter the popular tendency, to view intimacy solely in term~ of close and affectionate personal relationships. Such a concept of intimacy is too limiting, particularly for persons who will be living a celibate life. There is need to recognize another kind of intimacy which, while involving deep understanding and sensitive response, does not depend upon a mutual opening of hearts. I am referring to what, fof lack of a better label, may be termed creative intimacy. The person who is capable of this kind of intimacy has reached a level of psychosexual development which permits committed and perceptive re-lationships without the reassuring prerequisite of secret emotional ties. The research physician who invents a novel and needed procedure, the archi-tect who designs appropriate housing for unique terrain and the scholar's treatise which brings order out of confusion are all examples of a com-mitment to intimacy. Each establishes a link between the complexities of external demands and inner personal resources. A celibate who is. capable of involved interest with a subject (e.g., Scripture), a place (e.g., his parish) or a group (e.g., the aged) is not apt to suffer from a sense of isolation. In short, it is possible to relate intimately to life by being deeply affected by and responsive to ideas, situations and problems without requiring sexual union or an emotional heart transplant as a condition for an enriching experience. The creative person's contributions to society are evidence of this unconventional form of intimacy. A second reason for focusing on creativity is that its place in the prep- Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 659 aration of men for celibate life has received insufficient attention despite the fact that it has long enjoyed a respectable status in educational circles. By way of illustration consider the following questions: (1) What priority do psychological screening programs place on identifying creative capacities in candidates for priesthood? (2) How much do we know (or utilize what is known) about how creativity may be linked to the sub-limation of the sex. drive? (3) To what extent are seminary educators con-tentto rely on those tired, thoughts which assert that creative individuals cannot survive seminary environments, are troublesome to superiors, and that creativity is largely a product of inheritance? It seems ironic that we who identify God as Creator, and man as having been created in his image can manage to prepare men for a celibate priesthood with so little emphasis upon the identification and encouragement'of creativity. Seminaries have yetto acknowledge through curriculum design that a celibate's creativity is a most valuable resource in coping with the daily stresses of life. In a previous section the question was asked, "What happens tO the celibate's deferred: generativity?" Perhaps another way of answering this question can be found in linking celibate status with creativity. Specifically, celibacy can be viewed as a distinctive means of being consciously cre-ative. In associating celibacy with creativity I am thinking of MacKinnon's statement that true creativity fulfills at least three conditions: (1)originality, (2) adaptiveness, and (3) realization .~7 As for the first (originality), celibacy is an idea that is always novel, unique, or at least statistically infrequent. As for the second point, celibacy is adaptive in that it serves to fit the situation of ministry to accomplish some recognizable g0al. And to the third condition (realization)~ celibacy involves sustaining the original work of Jesus and further extending it in time. With this perspective we may de-crease the likelihood that celibacy will be viewed as a static, asexual status. Instead, celibacy will be seen as a more active, generative relationship with the world. The Homogenous Environment Life in an all male environment is not an asexual experience. The stu-dent's premises about his sexual identity, his level of self-esteem and his interest in persons of either sex do not remain static during the seminary years as though preserved in a time capsule. They continue to be chal-lenged, modified and shaped' by the character of the environment. For many years the average seminarian lives, studies and recreates in an environment which provides minimal contact with or input from women. What lesson is learned by this absence of women? How well does this help seminarians make the transition to our highly seductive society? How does this prepare them to develop more than a theoretical understanding of the lrDonald W~ MacKinnon, "The Nature and Nurture of Creative Talent." Lecture given at Yale University,New Haven, Conm, April I I, 1962. 660 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 needs, abilities and conflicts of women who may come to them for counsel? Celibacy has to be lived in a heterosexual society. Rules against hetero-social contacts during periods of formation do not guarantee proper de-velopment. If seminarians have to compensate for the lack of women in their edu-cational experience, they will attempt to do so without the guidance of their faculty. They will use apostolic assignments or vacations to seek both heterosocial and heterosexual experiences which would otherwise be de-nied them during regular periods of education. In some instances, the relationships which develop will be maintained in secret. Such experiences are often invested with many romantic and sometimes bizarre fantasies of meaning. They also provoke much guilt and tension and sometimes incite fears which are repressed, producing unconscious conflicts with conse-quent anxiety. It has become increasingly evident that when problems of relating to women have to be faced in secret it makes for lonely failures. The seminarian who is separated and/or alienated from women for whatever reason (fear, ignorance, choice or official policy) must turn with more urgency upon himself or others in his immediate environment to meet his needs for recognition, affiliation and love. In such homogenous popula-tions, expressions of affection and physical contact are cautiously exposed and become over-invested with meaning. There is an ever present fear that such gestures will be interpreted as, or turn into, homos6xual intimacies. This kind of tension often remains unacknowledged, but is nonetheless virulent. It produces much frustration and resentment which is often en-countered by the psychologist in the form of depression, displaced ag-gression, problems of concentration, coldness in interpersonal contacts, compulsive masturbation, isolation, and the rise of tight cliques. Each institution should provide appropriate opportunities for seminarians to learn about, and become comfortable with, members of the opposite sex. "Social restrictions" and "sexual abstinence" should not be confused. The concepts are not isomorphic. Policies and regulations which forbid or delimit heterosocial contacts do not automatically insure healthy attitudes toward self-regulation or guarantee the development of the capacity for abstinence in later life. Celibates also need to realize that abstinence does not automatically confer the capacity to love people in general any more than incontinence in marriage increases love for someone in particular. Neither the frustration nor the expression of the sex drive is innately di-rected toward the good. The capacity for sex in humans simply endows them with the potential of becoming psychosexually mature. It is in inter-actions with others that opportunities for growth and understanding de-velop. The Environment's Models Seminary administrators must realistically assess the extent to which members of their faculty are prepared by virtue of education, experience Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 66"1 and personal disposition to participate in those aspects of the formation program which relate :to human sexuality. Many priests have had poor preparation and limited experience and would be ill at ease or unsuited for such responsibility. It would be unfair and unwise to neglect such con-siderations. If present faculty are not comfortable with their own sexuality or are incompetent in their understanding of it, they cannot project them-sel~, es as adequate role models or teach effectively. Example is stronger than precept. Students need visible proof that it is possible to be mature and well-integrated sexually in the priesthood. There is nothing more demor-alizing to seminarians than examples of underdeveloped faculty charged with responsibility for their preparation of a life of celibate ministry. Modeling is a powerful force for formation and growth. It assists the seminarian in coping with the stresses of his environment, aids in the development of responsibility and helps perpetuate the valu6s that define the priesthood. More than anything else, a seminary must offer models who are worthy of imitation. Such models should be capable of candid con-versations concerning celibacy. They should exhibit desirable patterns of male-female interaction. They should be persons who have not distanced themselves from their own sexuality. They should not be overly constricted academicians or overly eager confidantes who take students under their wing to protect them from conflicts with celibacy. The, y should be able to take questions from Students without becoming overly threatened, angry or embarrassed. They should be the kind of advisers who are not impelled to define venereal sin whenever a student discloses a sexual problem. I emphasize the importance of appropriate role models because they are the most available source of identification with the priesthood. Good mod-els teach and motivate simultaneously. On the other hand, poor models lead to unhealthy identifications and raise the anxiety leV,el of students. For example, seminarians exposed to poor models are apt to say to t.hemselves, "Will I turn out like him ?" when they should be saying about a good model, "I want to be like him." Healthy identification reduce~ fear and anxiety about the priesthood. When a seminarian can identify with an exemplary person, his sub-jectiv~ benefit is that he believes he is part of the exemplary person. When that happens, he is freer to ease away from infantile or regressive tend-encies. He gives up his more childish and selfish desires because he is acquiring positive, generative adulthood in return. Good faculty models can illustrate that genital expression is not the essence of warmth, masculinity, and friendship. Seminaries, like other educational institutions, have faculties which possess a range of competencies and wide variations in levels of maturity. This is not the issue. The significant issue is how we recognize this fact of life. This recognition should take the form of careful assignment of re-sponsibility in this area, use Of competent consultants, and support for regular in-service training and continuing education for the faculty. 662 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 With a view toward offering more specific suggestions for helping semi-narians' progress toward sexual maturity the following guidelines are offered: I. Maintain high standards in the selection of candidates. This would require'defining criteria, and training the admissions committee to do its job well. The seminary environment is not suited to be a place where major reconstructive therapy can be conducted. Persons of weak char-acter, sociopathic tendencies and serious personality defects may find the seminary environment a haven for their limitations, but once or-dained they do not make good priests. They eventually create compli-cated and expensive personnel-management problems, alienate the laity, perform po6rly and thereby threaten the work of their colleagues, and remain visibly inadequate models for attracting future vocations. 2. Provide professional counseling as a regular part of seminar3, services. This will enable students with relatively minor psychological problems to be assisted in their development. In addition, each seminary envi-ronnhent will inevitably produce certain situational dist~arbances in a proportion of its students. These are transient disorders from a mild to severe nature which occur without any underlying mental pathology. They represent normal reactions to such stressful factors as disruption of previously established interpersonal relationships, fear of faculty dis-approval and unfamiliar academic demands. It is important to detect and recognize such adjustment reactions quickly and have counseling ser-vices available to help students cope. Sometimes an orientation course for first year men will head off some of these situational disorders. 3. Course offerings in the area of human sexuality and the practice of celibacy should be characterized by providing: (a) competence: they should offer suffi~:ient scientific content and contemporary material to enable s, tudents to learn the facts, social attitudes and real problems associated with human sexu.ality; (b) comfort: opportunity to discuss, question and dialogue without threat of ridicule, embarrassment, or fear of faculty or peer censure; (c) conviction: conveying in unmistakable terms.that growth in psychosexual maturity is a life long task which is part of every individual's priestly responsibility. " 4. Include women in the program in more than token fashion. Women can contribute as lecturers, panelists, and consultants. A feeling of security with women and an appreciation of their needs, values and competencies cannot be acquired in an all-male program. Their inclusion should not be prompted by condescension. For example, they should be included not to demonstrate that "women think diffeyently," but rather that they do think. The exclusion of women .hampers seminarians' development more than it insures it. 5. Exercise greater care in assessing readiness for celibacy. Programs of formation may need to place greater emphasis on assessing an indi- Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 663 vidual's psychological readiness to commit himself to celibacy. One must not assume that a seminarian's advancement in academic prepa-ration is indicative of other aspects of his readiness for priesthood. Conclusion In this paper sexuality and maturity were discussed in relation to celi-bate development. By general comment and specific illustration I attempted to show that psychosexual maturity is not only an abstract concept .but also an identifiable reality. I also tried to indicate that progress toward psycho-sexual maturity is made more by choice than chance, more by intelligent effort than passivity. In the process of offering these comments much emphasis was placed on what seminary educators can do to foster healthy celibate development. It would be misleading to leave the impression that I wished to understate the role of the individual. The young celibate must be encouraged and assisted to develop an increasing level of personal accountability for his psychosexual functioning. This can only be accom-plished if we view immaturity as a responsibility, not a crime to be followed by punishment or self-hate. Now Available As A Reprint Psychosexual Maturity in , Celibate Development by Philip D. Cristantiello Price: $.60 ~per copy, plus postage. Address" Review for Religious Room 428 6301 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis Robert F. Morneau Father Morneau's name is familiar to our readers. He resides at Holy Reedemer Center and teaches at Silver Lake College; Manitowoc, WI 54220. In teaching people the truths about his Father's kingdom, Jesus often used examples from nature: the simple sparrow, the lush lilies of the field, the unfortunate fig tree, the nonverbal clues of the sky, the miraculous yeast. Through these concrete images, deeper mysteries were unveiled opening the minds and hearts of people to the marvels of God's gracious love. We can do no better than to fall back on nature to attempt, through the use of analogy, to ponde~ the multifold facets of our faith. From the world of biology comes the notion of homeostasis which can assist us in under-standing the necessity of grounding our lives on solid rock. Dr. Hans Selye summarizes the essential meaning of this biological principle: It was the great French physiologist Claude Bernard who during the second half of the nineteenth century--well before anyone thought of stress--first pointed out clearly that the internal environment (the milieu interieur) of a living organism must remain fairly constant despite changes in its external environment, lie realized that "'it is a fixity of the mi6eu interieur which is the condition of free and independent life.'" Some fifty years later, the distinguished American physiologist, Walter B. Cannon suggested that "the coordinated physiological processes which maintain most of the steady states in the organism" should be called "'homeostasis" (from the Greek homoios, meaning similar, and stasis, meaning position), the ability to stay the same, or static. Homeostasis might roughly be translated as 'bstaying power."'~ ~Hans Selye, M.D., Stress Without Distress (New York: J. B. Lippincott Company,1974), pp. 34-35. 664 Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 665 The homeostatic principle, as applied to the external world, needs little documentation as to its importance due to the writings in the field of ecology. What needs considerable reflection is the importance and meaning of spiritual homeostasis, that reality in our spiritual lives which is the force enabling us to maintain a certain level of stability despite radical and often-times violent changes in our external environment. Spiritual homeostasis is the cultivation of a certain internal stability, developed through grace and discipline, that enables a person to "weather" the trials, temptations and sufferings of life in a reasonable manner. Several examples from observable nature might help in understanding the notion of homeostasis. A palm tree survives the violence of a hurricane because its roots (homeostatic elemen~t) are deeply embedded in the soil; the March kite maintains a modicum of stability because of its carefully attached tail; the sailboat does not become the plaything of the strong breeze because of its rudder. Roots, a weighted rag, and a vertical board each provide stability despite elements of stress and strain. By way of comparison, each of us must face the demands of life, demands arising from within and without. If we are not to be carried away by the high winds of life, there must be some grounding element providing continuity and sta-bility. This essay is a consideration of this grounding, of our spiritual homeostatic principle. A note of caution is in order: the inward journey, made either to con-struct our inner principles or to examine the ones that already direct our lives, involves risks and the universal fears 9f travelers. Carl Jung wrote of these risks: Wherever there is a reaching down into innermost experien~:e, into the nucleus of personality, most people are overcome by fright, and many run away . the risk of inner experience, the adventure of the spirit, is in any case, alien to most human beings,z Of a!l the reasons for hesitating to make the journey, perhaps the great-est fear lies in the possibility that we will find nothing there--no homeo-static principle grounding our lives in "substance." For all our talk, re-flecting and apodictic shouting, the interior could be empty--and who could live if that were true? Dante, in describing the precious coin of faith (the ultimate homeostatic principle) and its fine attributes, dares to ask the fatal question: Well have we examined The weight and alloy of this precious coin; But tell me if thou hast it in thy purse? 3 ~C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, recorded and edited by Aniela Jaffa, translated from the German by Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Books, 1961). pp. 140-141. 3Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, translated by Lawrence Grant White (New York: Pantheon Books, 1948), Canto 24, p. 171. 666/Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Just as the kite's tail needs periodic mending, just as the sailboat's rudder needs annual repairs', just as the tree's roots need constant contact with the dark rich soil, so each of us must make our own inward journey, despite risks and fears, to examine the quality and growth of our ho-meostatic principle. Let us take St. Paul as our "case study" and attempt to isolate his homeostatic principle. Even if the attempt fails, enough insight, might be provided for each of us to either clarify or construct our own spiritua! anchor. Pauline scholars might opt for one of the following passages as being central to Paul's spirituality, central in that all of life's experiences might be related to it for meaning and insight: Let your thoughts be on heavenly things, and n6t on things that are on earth, because you have died, and now the life you ha're is hidden with Christ in God.4 And I live now not with my own life but with the life of Christ who lives in me? Though not excluding the central~messages in the above two passages, my own personal choice of Paul's homeostatic principle comes from a passage in his letter to the Ephesians: Blessed be God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. who has blessed us with all ihe spiritual blessings of heaven in Christ. Before the world was made, he chose us, chose us in Christ, to be holy and spotless, and to live through love in his presence . ~ Taking as an hypothesis, that "to live through love in his presence" was Paul's spiritual cable, what are some of the implication's of this homeostatic principle? To Live: Union with the Spirit The Pepsi generation shouts out the challenge: Come alive! Whether or not a carbonated soda can achieve such a towering feat ~could be ques-tioned; the challenge cannot. We are called to choose life (Dt 30:15-20), to share in the fullness of life (Jn 10:10), to live injustice, love and faith (Mi 6:8). Yet, because of collective and personal sin, our existences are frag-mented and our potential lies dormant under piles of "shoulds," "tomor-rows," and "new years." We see but do not comprehend, listen but do not understand, touch but remain unaffected. Walter Kerr sees our dilemma in this light: If I were required to put into a single sentence my own explanation of the state of our hearts, heads, and nerves, 1 would do it this way: we are vaguely wretched because we are leading half-lives, halfheartedly, and with only one-half of our minds actively engaged in making contact with the universe about us.r 4Colossians 3:2-3. (All scriptural quotations are taken from the Jerusalem Bible.) ~Galatians 2:20. 6Ephesians 1:3-4 (italics mine, indicating the Pauline homeostatic principle). 7Walter Kerr, The Declhte of Pleasure (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1962), p. 12. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 667 Every so often someone crosses our path whose very spirit exudes life. Sparkling eyes, a lightness of voice, gentle responses, all mark a sense of meaningand motivation. A personal creativity overflows, smoldering wicks and healing,crushed reeds (Is 42:3). Such a presence is anticipated with longing and remembered with joy. He gives life because he has life within. A .quality of transparency allows all he meets to. taste and see life itself. In the presence of such a life-giver the question spontaneously arises: "What is all .this juice and all this joy (Hopkins)?" The Christian traces such a spirited life to the Spirit. God the Father and "therisen Lord haye sen't, into all creation their Spirit. Whoever receives this Spirit truly comes alive. Whoever refuses the Spirit or fails to recognize the the Spirit's presence lives in darkness, half-alive, wallowing in ignorance and fear, fretting'in anxieties and tears, doubting the meaning of existence. A spiritless Macbeth, no longer able to sustain his guilt, attempts to pre-serve. a modicum of sanity,by denying,the meaning of life: Out, bul brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And t.hen is heard no more;it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Sign.ifying nothing,s Without the Spirit darkness reigns and we curse that darkness. Life be-comes a burden too difficult to bear,and freedom a poisonous responsibility. St. Paul was graced with the gift of the Spirit. To live was to be in conscious, personal union, with this Reality and to act from this center. Three basic forms of acting out a Spirit-transformed mind and heart include a spirit of loving attention, a spirit of joyful mortification and a spirit of courageous action. Aliveness in Paul's life embraces a balanced life of prayer, asceticism and apostolate, all flowing from his being loved by God and attempting to live in return. The quality and tonality of,the response is crucial. Each of these three areas, though of significance in and of them-selves, is entirelydifferent when shared in fellowship with the Spirit and is essentially response, to a personal invitation to communicate with, to suffer with, and to work with the Spirit of the Father and the Son. This divine companionship doubles all the victories in .building up the kingdom and halves the apparent defeats. Spirit of loving attention. It is possible to be attentive to someone or something without love. The hostile stare or the crowded "personless" elevator ride are two instances. A vague'love is also possible, unable to center on a defined object: "I love humanity but find it difficult to love individual people." Such forms of attentiveness and unspecified love do not allow us to live fully, God's Spirit draws us to truly :see, perceive, com-prehend the creation in which we live. Pausing to be embraced by a spring 8William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act V, sc. v, lines 23-28. 661~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 flower, stopping suddenly to be swept heavenward by a starry night, being swept off one's feet by a warm night breeze are strains of deeper mysteries and realities. So many layers blocking our sensitivity must be penetrated if we are to be touched by outside realities; so much cluttering has made us inattentive to the voices of friends and the needs of the wounded, Poets are eternal prophets calling all of us to attention, to a loving attention of truth and beauty: Look at the stars! Look, look up at the skies! O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air! 9 The homeostatic principle ("to love . . .") in the life of St. Paul con-tained a deep love and a profound concentration as he journeyed through life. Because of this not only the man but his writings are so alive. Spirit of joyful mortification. Paradoxically, life embraces death, self-actualization of necessity involves self-denial. Without reflecting on this phenomenon, most of us would have to struggle to accept the comple-mentarity of the living-dying mystery. Yet if we glance for a moment into the lives of people who have evidenced life to the full, we come across the fact of much voluntary suffering and dying. Teresaof Avila, called by God to reform her religious community, freely accepted the ridicule and ha-rassment that went along with this leadership role; Thomas More, request-ed by his king to sign his name to a document which would mean that his life would be spared, freely accepted death rather than lose his integrity and be unfaithful to his God; Cardinal Newman, drawn to the Roman Catholic Church, followed his religious belief in the face of the pain of being alien-ated from friends and kin by such a decision. In each case there was tremendous suffering; in each case there was new, powerful life. The de-mands were not limited to a giving of one's time and energy, rare com-modities in themselves, but a giving on a much deeper levbl: the giving of oneself. A denial of self for the sake of life we identify as mortification. Is it possible to speak of joyful mortification? Two considerations come to mind. First, there is joy in the act of mortification because the focus rests not on the suffering, though it is the immediate fact, but centers on the life that comes through the self-denial. Had Teresa of Avila dwelt on the sneers and raised eyebrows of some members of her order, her call to reformation could well have been delayed for some time; had Thomas More dwelt on the pain of execution, his commitment to the truth might have been threatened; if Cardinal Newman had centered on the anguish and affliction resulting from separating himself from so many dear friends, his conversion would have become increasingly difficult. The secret of their ability to deny them~ selves and accept the price of asceticism wasa vision of the good that would be achieved. "Joy is the knowledge that we possess something that is good" (Abbot Marmion). And though the good may well be miles down the road and a matter of long-range consequences, those who see are.enabled to joyfully deny themselves. 9Gerard Manley Hopkins, "'The Starlight Night." Spiritual Staying Power." Homeostasis / 669 A second, more powerful and more personal reason for joy lies in the fact that the Christian practices mortification in union with the. Lord. Just as Jesus suffered freely in reconciling the world to the Father, so too the Christian must pick up his cross voluntarily if he truly desires to share in the risen life. Failure to suffer in union with Christ runs the risk of self-righteousness, false pride and inevitable sadness. The grace needed is the generosity to do all things in Christ. Our fasting, our giving of time, our withhOlding that "brilliant insight''~° so that others might be free to speak, are all forms of denying self but in conjunction with the Lord. Joy results in sharing life together--whether that embraces health or illness, success or failure, peace or conflict--the important thing being the mutuality and not the positive or negative experience. Mortification takes on ful[ reality as one means of participation in the life of Christ. This fellowship, this partic-ipation, is the source of our joy. St. PauFs aliveness is characterized by both joy and mortification. His letters to the early ~Christian churches, permeated with so much suffering yet with an ex~ravaga~at generosity, provide us with sufficient evidence that Paul might well be a paradigm for all aspiring ascetics: For 1 am certain of this: neither death nor life, no angel, no price, nothing that exists, nothing still to come, not any power, or height or depth, nor any created thing, can ever come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord?~ We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us. We are in difficulties on all sides, but never cornered; we see no answer to our problem, but never despair; we ~ have been persecuted, but never deserted; knocked down, but never killed; always, wherever we may be, 'we carry with us in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus, too, may always be seen in our body. Indeed, while we are still alive, we are consigned toour death every day,.for the sake of Jesus, so that in our mortal flesh the life of Jesus, too, may be openly shown. So death is at work in us, but life in you?z Paul's homeostatic principle dealt directly witch the external pressures that could have possibly destroyed his internal equilibrium. Graced with the Spirit of joyful mortification, those pressures and possible destructive forces were turned into growth experiences. Spirit of courageous service. Living involves doing. Through the in-carnational activity of enfleshing one's mission in word and deed, St. Paul strove to realize his calling as the apostle to the Gentiles and to bring about the reconciliation which was the work of Christ. Paul's metabolism was seldom low. ,~fter rechanneling his energies beginning with the Damascus experience., he responded to God;s call in building up the kingdom of God. His activism flowed from interior prayer and self-denial. Paul's life was balanced and full. ~o,,. and when he saw that the splendor of one of his pictures in the Exhibition dimmed his rival's that hung next to it, secretly took a brush and blackened his own." Essay by R. W. Emerson entitled "Character." ~Romans 8:38-39. ~z2 Corinthians 4:7-12. 670 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 One central dimension of Paul's apostolic work was bearing witness to the good news of Jesus Christ, God's love made visible to the world, A typical example is recorded in the Acts when Barnabas and Paul arrive at Antioch. How many times this type of sharing must have happened: On their arrival they assembled the church and gave an account'of all that God had done with them, and how he had opened the door of faith to the pagans.~3 In this particular instance the message and faith sharing was received with openness and joy, and they remained in Antioch for some time. More often, in attempting to fulfill the task of being an instrument of God's saving power among men, Paul was rejected and sometimes 6eaten (Ac 14:19; 2 Co l l:24ff). Speaking the truth involved paying a pric~. But since the truth - leads to freedom, the goal of the spiritual life, Paul had to speak it to remain true to his calling. He did not take the adx;ice of the old Turkish proverb: "He that would speak the truth must have one foot in the stirrup.''14 Missioned, being sent, seldom is limited to verbal sharing. Such was the case with St. Paul. He was commissioned to heal by living out the message he preached. Paul was a battle scarred disciple: Paul's concern for the poor, his gathering of money, evidence a social consciousness; his commitment to and vision of God's universal salvific will elicited extravagant energies to actualize this goal; his unwillingness to impose himself on others, thus being a burden to them, meant the retention of his tent mak!ng profession. Sensitive to'a variety of human and spiritual needs, skilled with the competencies and graced with love, Paul reached out to his fellow pilgrims helping them to grow as humari beings and preparing them to experience the good news of God's mercy and love. "To live" embraces loving attention, joyful mortification and coura-geous service. Paul is a fine model in that he followed Christ so well. Every Christian is challenged to get caught up into this way of living. The fi~st integrating ribbon on the tail of.our March kite provides solid material for homeostasis. It balances, stabilizes, as well as anchors the Christian in some depth realities. "To live" is to be one with the Spirit of Jesus and the Father; it involves a sharing in the Spirit ofcontemplatik, e prayer, voluntary asceticism and social concern. Through Love: Union with the Risen Lord The central experience of human life is being loved. So important is this experience that without it there is no hope of happiness and~minimal ex-pectation for sanity. The good news contained in the life of Jesus testifies once and for all that everyone is loved, "that our own existence in fact testifies to nothing less than our being loved by the Creator.''~5 Objectively 13Acts 14:27. ~'~See John W. Gardner and Francesa Gardner Reese, Know or Listen to Those Who Know (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1975), p. 233. ~SJosef Pieper, About Love, translated by Richard and Clara Winston (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1972), p. 31. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 671 this is the~ase; Subjectively, whether ornot we come to taste the truth of God's love, this is the most significant question of our lives. St. Paul experienced God's love: what was objectively true from the first moment of his existence became subjectively a reality when he surrendered to the call of grace. Love experienced meant a rebirth which radically changed his entire existence. Throughout the rest of his life's journey and beyond, he lived "through love" in God's presence. Though Paul knew that God's love for him was triune, it was in and through Jesus that the Father's fidelity and the Spirit's indwelling were revealed. Thus, we can focus on the quality and texture of Christ's personal love for Paul as we examine the second element in the suggested Paulirie h6meostatic principle. In doing this we realize that Paul knew that c~on-version was primarily an interior reality touching the mind and hdart. His being thus transformed interiorly showed itself in the external conversion of life-style. It is the transforming presence of Christ in our hearts and the knowledge of this love in our understanding that brings about spiritual renewal: Out of his infinite glory, may he give you the power through his Spirit for your hidden self to grow strong, so that Christ may live in your hearts through faith, and then, planted in love and built on love, you will with all the saints have strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth; until, knowing the love of Christ, which is beyond all knowle~dge, you are filled with the utter fulness qf God.~ ' To live through love means to live in Christ Jesus; to allow his wisdom to shape our attitudes, to surrender'to his affectivity which transforms our hearts, and to .be enabled through his power to share with others the gifts that we have received. Jesus' Wisdom To live in union with the loving Lord necessarily means to be embraced by his wisdom and to share in that gift. In the book of Wisdom we are told that the gift of wisdom has these traits: 1) wisdom is the consort of God's throne; 2) to lack the wisdom is to count for nothing; 3) wisdom knows God's works; she was present when the world was made; 4) wisdom under-stands what is pleasing in God's eyes; she teaches this; 5) wisdom knows and' understands everything,lr Insight and deep knowledge can be cold and sterile. Such is not the case of the wisdom of Christ in whi~zh Paul shared. Rather it was a loving knowledge leading the intellect to true and full understanding. Throughout the ages various writers have noted the' relationship between love and the cognitive dimension of human knowing: Thus love is the parent of faith.l~ ~SEphesians 3:16-19. ~TWisdom 9:1-6, 9-11. iSJohn Henry Newman, "Holy Scriptures" in Essays and Sketches (New York: Longman, Green & Co., 1948), p. 328. 672 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 We could almost say he sees because he loves, and therefore loves although he sees?9 What ha~ to be healed in us is our true nature, made in the likeness of God. What we have to learn is love. The healing and the learning are the same thing, for at the very core of our essence we are constituted in God's likeness by our freedom, and the exercise of that freedom is nothing else but the exercise of disinterested love--the love of God for his own sake. because he is God. The beginning of love is truth, and before he Will give us his love, God must cleanse our souls of the lies that are in them.2° To live through love means that the truth given us enables us to see and to believe. Jesus' love provides us with a vision of reality thereby scattering darkness and ignorance. Wisdom is to know the Father, a Father of loving fidelity and infinite mercy; our wisdom is to live from this central insight. "Through love" contains both a passive and active dimension: we are first loved in truth (passive) and then are missioned to reach out in deep concern (active). In the spiritual classic The Cloud of Unknowing, the importance of living and acting within God's love is stressed: The work of love not only heals the roots of sin, but nurtures practical goodness. When it is authentic you will be sensitive to every ne6d and respond with a generosity unspoiled by selfish intent. Anything you attempt to do without this love will certainly b~ imperfect, for it is sure to be marred by ulterior motives,z~ St. Paul told the Philippians to have the same attitude that Christ had. This exhortation was grounded in lived experience, for Paul had himself put on the mind and attitudes of Christ. Paul's vision, his judgments and con-ception of life resembled those of Jesus who focused on the Father. In the letter to the Ephesians, Paul gives evidence of how gifted he was with God's loving wisdom when, in his letter, he describes the divine plan of salvation (Ep 1:3-14). Two verses of that magnificent passage provide sufficient wit-ness to that wisdom: He has let us know the mystery of his purpose, the hidden plan he so kindly made in Christ from the beginning to act upon when the times had run their course to the end; that he would bring everything together under Christ, as head, everything in the heavens and everything on earth.22 Jesus' Affectivity To live through love for Paul was to experience transformation of one's heart. Paul was a man deeply in love; how else explain his commitment and unmatched zeal. The love of the risen Lord touched the very center of Paul's being in an intimate and personal way, resulting in a response of deep affectivity; his heart was on fire with the concern that Jesus showed him. Several centuries after Paul, another Christian underwent a spiritual heart ~9C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York: The Seabury Press, 1961), p. 57. Z°Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1948), p. 451. ~The Cloud of Unknowing, edited by William Johnston (New York: Doubleday, Inc., 1973), ZZEphesians 1:9-10. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 673 transplant after much struggle. This was St. Augustine. He emerged from "surgery" with the strong convi6tion that true life must flow from the heart: Follow the Lord, if you will,be perfect, a comrade of those among whom he speaks wisdom, who knows what to distribute to the day and to the night, so that you also may know it and so that for you lights may be in the firmament of heaven. But this will not be done unless your heart is in it.~ If wisdom touches out.minds with truth, God's gracious love seeks to touch our hearts. Why is it that so many defense mechanisms come into play at this level? Perhaps the fear of intimacy makes us cautious; what will be-demanded if I allow the Lord entrance into my life? Paradoxically we seek and' need intimacy yet flee when it is offered. The conditions of intimacy--commitment, self donation, giving up self-sufficiency--give us cause to hesitate. The tragic possibility of "having no heart" or allowing our hearts to become hard and calloused are dreadful alternatives to intP macy. Literature often speaks to this point: But 1 feel nothing, she whispered to herself. I have no heart.~4 Pity me that the heart is slow to learn What the swift mind beholds'at every turn,~5 ¯ His sorrows will not be slight. His heart is proud and hard.2~ Jesus came to save the'whole person, and ali people. His love for us was integral and he sought a total response. Using the book of Deuteronomy, Jesus. teaches: "and you must love the Lord your God. with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength" (Dt 6:4-5). Realizing in faith that God first loved us, now weare to respond in love to a God who desires our hearts. Having' been gifted with love, we return that gift. by loving the Father as Jesus did and by serving in the building up of the kingdom. Jesus' Power As God's gracious love transforms the interior of the Christian life, creating a new heart and shaping a new mind, there are external mani-festations indicating a new, powerful wayof life. The power of Jesus was evidenced in his love, joy, peace, in his constant patience, goodness, kind-ness, in his trustful'ness, gentleness and self-control (Ga 5:22). Through these signs of the Spirit, the Father's love and mission were incarnated. Following the Master, Paul challenged the Galatians as well as hin~self~to live out these values. For the sake of clarification, Paul's letter to the people of Galatia also provided concrete instances of what happens when internal renewal of heart and mind has not taken place. The "old self" of indulgence and weakness surfaces when these results are present: ZSThe Confessio;~s of St. Augustine, translated by John K~ Ryan, Book XII1, Chapter 19 (New °York: Image Book, 1960), p. 350. 24Thornton Wilder, The Bridge ofSatt Luis Re3' (New York: Washington Square Press, Inc,, 1955), p. 112. ~Edna St. Vincent Millay's "'Pity Me Not Because the Light of Day." Z~Herman Hesse, Siddhartha. 674 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 fornication, gross indecency and sexual irresponsibility; idolatry and sorcery; feuds and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels; disagreements, factions, envy; drunkenness, orgies and similar things. 1 warn you now, as I warned you before: those who behave like this will not inherit the kingdom of God'.27 In using the power given him by the Father~; Jesus brought about change and renewal in the lives of many. In calling Zaccheus down from the tree an entire household was converted; in washing the feet of the disciples they came to realize that to follow the Lord was,.t0 serve; in calling Mary by name in the garden, depression and fear gave way to hope and joy. The very presence of Jesus was power, transforming darkness~into light, doubt into faith, apathy into love. His gaze, the tone of voice, the transparency of the Father's love were creative for anyone with the eyes. of faith. When that faith, was not there, Jesus experienced the pain of powerlessness and he bore that cross with much pain: Wherever growth took place, Jesus, in humility, realized that it was rooted in the Father's abiding presence and an expression of the Father's love. Paul lived through love which Christ had for him; this love power m~ade the apostle to the Gentiles into a new man. Then, having experienced the burning power of God's call in Jesus, Paul was enabled in love to exert power in bringing others to the Father. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul describes the source, purpose and strength of the Christian way of life: It is all God's work. It was God who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the work of handing on this reconciliation. In other words, God in Christ recon-ciling the world to himself, not holding men's faults against them, and he has'entrusted to us the news that they are reconciled. So we are ambassadors, for Christ; it is as though God were appealing through us, and the appeal that we make in Christ's name is: be reconciled to God.28 To accomplish the work of the Father, power was necessary. Paul was well aware that the gifts and energies given him were not for personal gain but for others. What mattered was that all people might be in union with God, that reconciliation become a fact. The vision of faith was translated into life through the strength and ~courage given by the Father. Paul became an ambassador; a messenger entrusted with precious news. Through the power of proclamation and the courage of deeds, Paul shared the message of God's loving forgiveness with the people of his day, and with. us who are privile'ged to read his letters in faith. To live through love, then, meant for Paul a dwelling in the love of Christ Jesus. Through grace he would take on the mind and heart of the Lord as well as the power of his hands. Living through love implied an imperative: through his personal love for his fellowmen, Paul must continue the process of conversion in the lives of those whom he was called to serve. The gift given, God's love and forgiveness must be passed on. 27Galatians 5:19-21. 282 Corinthians 5:18-20. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasisr / 675 In His Presence: Union With the Father Several years ago~ I was speaking with a friend about the well-being of a former classmate. His response was simple and profound: "He's all right, he lives in His presence." This type of centering provides peace and be-comes the source of a "holy" life. Monica, the mother of Augustine, lived in the land of faith. Her son writes: o ¯ . . and she h'ad you (God)oas her inward teacher in the school of her heart . Whosoever among them khew her greatly praised.you, and honored you and loved you in her, because they recognized your presence in her heart, for the fruit of her holy ¯ life bore witness to this3~ C. S. Lewis, after the death of his wife, recorded an experience of presence that analogously applies to the God-man relationship: ¯ . . she seems to meet me everywhere. Meet is far too strong a word. l don't mean anything remotely like an apparition or a voice. I don't mean even any strikingly emotional experience at any particular moment. Rather, a sort of unobtrusive but massive sense that she is, just as much as ever, a fact to be taken into account,a° Faith draws us to the basic fact that the Father is always with us in a variety of ways.~The:problem is not so much cognitive as it'is experiential; through a lack of pro~er disposition we live outside of God's presence (this is sin at the deepest I~vel). God is still with us but w~ live as though this were not the case. ,, In his excellent treatise The Problem of~God, John Courtney Murray emphasizes t.he importance of presence: Over against the inconstancy and infidelity of the people; who continually absent themselves from God, the Name Yahweh affirms the constancy of God, his un-changeable fidelity to his promise of presence?~ He (God) is present as the Power. Presence involves transparency; one sees through the veil.of otherness into the other and knows his quality, intentions, attitudes. Thus, through h~s mighty works, God becomes transparent to hts people. He ts known to be present m ffi~thful goodness. : . . In all h~s works of judgment as of rescue, Yahweh becomes transparent, known to his people, who name him'from their experience of his works,a2 St. Paul cam~ to experience the pror~ise of God's dwelling with his people throug.h grace. Then, empowered;l~y the Spirit and 'h~aled through the power of JeSus, Paul could write to the Romans that "everyone moved b-Y the Slbirit is a son of GoiJ'~ find that it is~this Spirit that "makes us cry 6ut, ~abba, Father! . (Rm ~: 14-!$). Assuming the identity bf h so~, Paul j.ourneyed to the Father. ' ¯ zaConfessions, Book IX, Chapter 9, p. 220¯ abA Grief Observed, p. 22. aUohn Courtney Mut~'ay, The Proble'm of God (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1964), p. 11~ 321bid., pp. 14-15. 676 / Review for; Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Father's Covenant The covenant theme is central throughout all of scripture. God's word reveals the mystery of his desire to dwell with his people in a close intimate relationship. God committed himself to beour Father~ and callS us to be his people. Thus in forming a nation through. Abraham; in giving the law and the prophets, in sending Jesus to reconcile, in forming a Spirit-filled Church, the Father continues to dwell in history, the God oftimg and space. St. Paul experienced the covenant relationship with the Father; he dwelt in the Father's tent, listening to the Father's voice and venturing f?rth to share that word with others. Refusal of God's covenant is sin. Acceptance of it is grace and life. Our home is to be with God. The psalmist knew the joy of dwelling with Yah-weh: A single day in your courts is worth more than a thousand elsewhere; ~, merely to stand on the steps of God's house is better than living with the wicked,a3 Paul had spent years living out the covenant relationship: With the encounter and surrender to Christ, he gained access to the Father'.s dwell-ing. Having tasted darkness, he now knew the warmth and light of grace. To live in his presence meant life itself; anything else was death: But because of Christ, I have come to con~ider all these advantages (of the Law) as disadvantages. Not only that, but I believe that nothing can happen that will outweigh the supreme advantage 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 Cl~dst and be given ~ place in him.a4 Father's Kingdom and Will ,~ To live in the Father's presence means necessarily to get caught up into the kingdom and the will of God. "God's kingdom is no fixed, existing order, but a living, nearing thing. Long remote, it now advances, little by little, and has come so close as to demand acceptance. Kingdom of God means a state in which God is king and consequently rules."35 Indeed, for St. Paul the very presence of the Father within his life was synonymous with the surrender of his freedom. Decisions now w~re made in faith and out of love; freedom given meant freedom gained. By relating all to the furthering of the kingdom, a deep singleness of the heart (purity) governed and unified the apostle's life. All was new. The kingdom is achieved by doing the Father's will. Jesus' obedience unto death was the paradigm. Paul's highly developed sense of discernment allowed him to hear the voice of the Lord and the grace of the moment meant a response in faith. This listening and responding pattern charac- 3aPsalm 84:10. a4Philippians 3:7-9. a~Romano Guardini, The Lord (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1954), p. 37. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 677 terized Paul's life; it meant that the Father's will was being accomplished. Paul's prayer for the Colossians indicates the centrality of God's will: ¯. we have never0failed to pray for you~ and'what we ask God is that through perfect wisdom and spiritual:understanding you should reach the'fullest knowledge of his will. So you~ will be able,~to lead the kind of life which the Lord expects of you, a life acceptable to him in all its aspects; showing the results in all good actions you do and increasing your knowledg~e of God.a6 Knowledge of the Father's will is no intellectual abstraction; it demands commitment and actions which are pleasing to God. This holy pragmatism stresses the dynamism of Paul's ministry and his challenge to those who follow tile Lord. To,~iive in his presence, with the implicit willingness to promote the kirigdom by doing the Father's will, means that selfishness and non-scrip-tural behavior are elements in opposition to the life of Christ. Yet these elements never t6t~lly disappear from life. There is that constant struggle to allow the Lord to truly be I~ord ofourqives; there are the perennial temff-tat~ ons that lead toward' idolatry and~ wedge things and people between ourselves and the Father. Paul's life had; to face the'se struggles; his life was one 'of continual conversion. His candid confession in his letter to the Rom~ins"(7:14-15) magnificently expresSes the inward division of every person. Only through the grace of Christ does healing take place and only through that grace can we center bn the Father's kingdom and will. Without it we flounder on stormy waters. Father's Honor and Glory 'Life invol~'es two essential questions: what we do and why we do what v~E ~o. This latter question deals with the motivation. Our intentions not only reve~al our philosophy of life bu~ ultimately give us our sense of iden-tity.~ The Christian challenge 'is to Center our lives on God, to serve and love for his honor and 'glory. Self-serving and self-preserving tendencies block purity of'intention. Constantly we a~e invited to ever deeper levels of convei~sion as we strive to focus our attention on the mystery of God. Often Paul directly called the people he served to recognize to whom all honor and glory belonged: Glory'be to him whose power, working in us', can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine3 glory be to him from generation to genera~tion in the Church and in Christ Jesus forever and ever. Amen.3r Glory to him who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News I preach, and in which I proclaim Jesus Christ. the revelation of a mystery kept secret for endless ages, but now so clear that it must be broadcast to pagans everywhere to bring them to the obedience of faith. , . . He alone is wisdom; give glory therefore to him through Jesus.Christ forever and ever. Amen.36 a~Colossians 1:9-10: aTEphesians 3:20-21. 38Romans 16:25-27. Review for ReligiouS, Volume 37, 1978/5 In return, my God will fulfill .all your needs, in Christ Jesus, as lavishly as only.God can. Glory to God, our Father, forever and ever. Amen.as Honor and glory are due to God because of his majesty. The believer breaks forth in praise when God reveals himself. It is, impossible to remain silent when Truth and Goodness and Beauty inundate the human spirit. Faith allows us to encounter the living and true God; Our response is that of praise. Using Thomistic theology, Gabriel Braso describes well the meaning of honor and glory: , Glory is clear knowledge together with praise of the excellence of a'nother: clara ' notitia cure laude. Honor is the ackno~vledgment of this same e~cellence. Honor and glory, then, are acts by which our intellect recognizes an excellence existing in another being and finds it worthy of praise. Our will, on its part, accepts this superi-ority as a good to which it is well to tend, and, rejoicing in that good which another. prssesses, proclaims it and bears witness to it before others.4° The atmosphere in which Paul lived, namely,0the loving presen~ze of the Father, provides the springboard for his work, personal relationships and prayer. Not only did the apostle~ attempt to do. what was good for the well.being of others, he also lived from a very specifi~ level of.inten-tionality; he lived for God's honor and glory. Certainly the quality of this motivation varied at times, but the ideal was ever before Paul and he strove for it with tremendous zeal and dedication. Because .of this, he could write to others that they should follow his example. Conclusion The spiritual life is our participation in the paschal mystery. By means of principles and guidelines we h~ive some directions providing a perspec-tive from which to live this life in Christ. A homeostatic principle,is .~n internal reality giving continuity and stability to the faith life, especial!y when experiences of fragmentation tend to upset that life or when doubts attack :the human heart stripping it of meaning and feel,i, ng. Each person is challenged to discover and cultivate a personal homeostatic principle; it may remain constant throughout life or be modified in various ways. Be-sides St. Paul, other believers have articulated well what possibly might be their grounding point in the Lord: Yesterday 1 had a good morning. Once again when I recollect myself, I again find the same simple demands of God: gentleness, humility, charity, interior simplicity; noth-ing else is asked of me. And suddenly I saw clearly why these virtues are,demanded, because through them the soul becomes habitable for God and for one's neighbor in an intimate and permanent way. They make a pleasant cell of it. Hardness and pride repel, complexity disquiets. But humility and gentleness welcome, and simplicity reassures. These "'passive" virtues have an eminently social character.41 3aPhilippians 4t29-30~ 4°Gabriel M. Braso, O.S.B., Liturgy and Spirituality, translated by Leonard J. Doyle (Col-legeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1960), p. 59. o ~ 4IRaissh's Journal, presented by Jacques Maritain (Albany, NY: Magi Books, Inc.,1963), p. 71. Spiritual Staying Power: H~meostasis / 679 . my sole desire is that His name be praised, and that we should make every effort to serve a Lord who gives us such a reward here below . 4~ Lord, who has form'd me out of mud, And has redeem'd me through thy blood, And sanctifi'd me to do good; Purge all my sins done heretofore: For I confess my heavy score, And I will strive to sin no more. Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me, With faith, with hope, with charity; That I may run, rise, rest with thee.4a Human life is lived at various levels. At times the surface of our lives can be filled with turmoil and anxieties while there is peace deep within. At other times, extei'nal forces are calm but our hearts are agitated and rest-less. This essay suggests that St. Paul was able to deal with the pressures, anxieties and trials of life because his life was grounded in God's life. Paul's desire, was "'to live through love in His presence." This homeostatic prin-ciple provided' stability and continuity as he sought to "run, rise, rest" with God. 4~The Complete Works of St. Teresa of Jesus, translated by E. Allison Peers, II (London: Sheed and Ward, 1946), p. 268. 43George Herbert, "Trinity Sunday." All I Needed Was the Violet The overwheimin~ evidence of your magnitude, O God, i~sdisplayed in the sequ0yia forest,~ the snow,crowned towering mountains, the throbbing pulse of the swaying oceans, the~ measureless ga!axies of tinknown space, and also in the perfection and beauty of a tiny violet. To believe in you, an~l to bow down in worship, all I needed ' was the violet. Everywhere I find you, , Your bountiful, awe-inspiring, praise-producing, heart-stirring, mind-boggling, argument-ending remin~lers are just too overwhelming for me. Viola Jacobson Berg 5 Roosevelt Ave. Malverne, NY 11565 Mount Athos: The Holy Republic Michael Azkoul Father Azkoul, a priest of the Russian Orthodox Church, has taught Church History at St. Louis University, as well as in other institutions. Presently he is attached to Seminex (Luth-eran Seminary in Exile) of St. Louis. He is married, with two children. He resides at 912 Bellstone Rd.; St. Louis, MO 63119. Mount Athos or "The Holy Mountain" is situated in northern Greece, on the Chaicedonean peninsula. Since 1922 this colony of monks has been a republic, a legally constituted political entity, a cluster of monasteries-- stauropeion, as the Orthodox say--immediately subject to the jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople. The Holy Mount is dedicated to the Blessed Virgin who, it is said, led its first inhabitants, perhaps as early as the sixth century, to establish this religious sanctuary where no female is allowed--nor "female animals-or beardless boys." There have been as many as 40,000 monks on this tiny strip of land jutting into the Aegean, but now Athos can hardly boast of 400 Who have surrendered themselves to the "life of the angels." The Holy Mountain has been crucial to the life of the Orthodox Church. Its monks have produced great music, art, theology, and given t6 the Church some of her greatest bishops and saints.1 Moreover, the history of Orthodoxy shows that monks, especially those of the holy mount, have been "defenders of the faith." No more typical example can be found than their behavior during the Iconoclastic Period when the Empress Theodora found the support of monks indispensable in her effort to restore icons to the Church. Her victory is commemorated on the first Sunday of the "Great ~Monk-saints of Athos are usually called Hagiorite, that is, of the holy (hagios) mountain (oros). 680 Mount Athos: The Holy Republic / 68"1 Lent," as the Sunday of Orthodoxy. This Christian triumph over Hellenism was as monastic as it was,ecclesiastical. The historical value of monasticism to the Church notwithstanding, its importance to Orthodoxy as the supreme embodiment of her Weltan- Schauung is what concerns us here: Mt. Athos as the microcosm of the whole, of Orthodoxy and monasticism, this is the special object of our attention. In truth, one cannot understand the Eastern Church unless one grasps the meaning of her monasticism. In other words, monks are not a class above the Church, but the highest stratum within the Church. They are "'the true and authentic Christians," as St. Basil the Great called them. Monks and nuns are the dynamis of Orthodoxy, its spiritual heroes, the archetypes of its piety, models of chastity, the totally committed who most perfectly express the first principle of Orthodox spirituality, "voluntary obedience.'" They are those Christians who mysteriously perfect the Church and the entire human race by perfecting themselves. Recognizing that the Church is divine and human, even as Christ himself, we come to understand what it means that they are eager to sanctify time, to bring creation closer to the end for which the Christian economy was re-vealed- the deification of the cosmos. The Nature of Orthodox Spirituality The Orthodox Weltanschauung is ascetical. This means that monks are not an erratic or exotic element in the Church, but her chief representatives. Their lives are a statement of denial as well as of affirmation: monks affirm the Christian revelation as the introduction of new life into an age domi-nated by the devil. Satan is the "god of the age," its very zeitgeist. He is the one to whom mankind was yoked by Adam's sin, the ancestral sin which rendered his posterity the heirs of bodily corruption and death. "Where-fore, as by one man sin entered the world and death by sin," St. Paul teaches, "0n account of death all have sinned" (Rm 5:12). In other words, man is not so much a scoundrel as a victim. Human suffering is not the result of God's punishment or vengeance, but the consequence of the devil's power over us through death--the last enemy. Thus, God became a man to destroy the devil and death, not to satisfy some debt incurred by humanity through the sin of Adam.~ For the Orthodox, there is no "original sin," as Augustine and the West have so long believed, only an act of disobedience which inaugurated de-monic tyranny. Baptism, therefore, does not eradicate an "inherited guilt" transmitted by procreation. How, indeed, as Pelagius asked the Augus-tinians, is "original sin" passed to the children of baptized parents if bap- ZSee J. S. Romanides, "'Original Sin According to Saint Paul," St. Vladimir Seminary Quar-terly. IV, I-2 ( 1955-1956), pp. 5-28. Fr. Romanides blames Augustine of Hippo for altering the Church's traditional understanding of Adam's sin and its consequences: and, therefore, the Christian theology of baptism. Review for Relig, ious, Volume 37, 1978/5 tism washes it away? Nor does baptism involve the complete regeneration of human nature--which would necessarily destroy even the capacity to sin. Rather, baptism removes the individual from the tyranny of the devil and incorporates us into the life of "the Second Adam," that is, the Church, the body of Christ, the new humanity, "the race of Christians," as St. Justin Martyr referred to the People of God. Moreover, the mystery of baptism initiates the process of deification--"the new birth," the process of our spiritual perfection through grace (which in Orthodox theology means God's "uncreated energy" extended to creation). We belong to that level of being in which the acquisition of the Holy Spirit, the "Giver of Life," becomes our r?tison d'ktre. In Christ, he is the Deifier. In the Church, the process of deification (salvation) involves, to be sure, prayer, fasting, the Mysteries (sacraments), saving knowledge (the "knowl-edge" of spiritual things, gnosis) and the constant struggle with the pas-sions, the struggle to overcome our Adamic nature, our mortal nature, .to overcome death, wrestling with devil while ascending the "ladder of per-fection," to borrow a phrase from St. John of the, Ladder (Climacus). The passions darken reason and enervate the will: they destroy freedom. Freedom is an internal condition, "the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free., from the yoke of bondage" (Ga 5:1). Thus, it does not mean, in the first instance, political or economic rights. These cannot exist unless we have been unchained from the Evil One who, as we have implied, seeks our negation through the passions, the perverse powers of our fallen nature, our nature yoked to death, to dying. We recognize the passions as pride or self-love, jealousy, lust, hate, contentiousness, despair, etc. There are passions of the body and passions of the soul, as St. Gregory of Sinai reminds us. They dwell in us from birth :and are aroused and strengthened by our environment, that is, by the devil working through our psyche, or by persons and things. The devil combats grace by the passions. Despite the Holy Spirit, our guardian angel, the ¯ intercession of the saints, we can lose our souls if we do not perceive the guile of the devil and undertake to oppose him; indeed, without the struggle, the Christian will soon fall away from the Church and into the power of the devil once more. As we have said, the passions are the means by which the devil seeks to recapture.us. He can get us back by winning our "heart," the spiritual citadel of man, the "subconscious," as some Orthodox theologians call it. (Orthodoxy, following the Fathers, has never viewed the "heart" as "the seat of the emotions~ especially love.") All instruments of reason are im-potent to search the abyss of the heart, although, as St. Symeon the New Theologian observed, discursive reason is given the role of "sentinel." The heart is that by which we believe unto salvation, by which we see God if our heart is pure (Mt 5:8: Rm 10:9), but also that from which, according to the Lord, "proceeds evil reasoning, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, lying, blasphemy .'" (Mt 15:19). Mount Athos: The Holy Republic No wonder, then, the Fathers admonish us to "guard the heart," to protect it from anything or anyone who might injure it, from any situation which leads to separation from God's grace. We may "'guard the heart" through obedience, humility, chastity, prayer, the Mysteries and, in par-ticular, by controlling the faculty of the "imagination." This is that power of the mind whereby it creates images, which forms sense-data into co-herent patterns, which allows the mind to visualize and, consequently, to judge and act. As the Greek Fathers say, every passion is the result of a "'sinful image." Reason may alert us to the danger, but if we cherish the "'sinful inlage,'".ifwe nourish and remember it--as one might past insult or betrayalBthen it overwhelms reason, penetrates the systems of conscious-ness and plunges into the heart. The "'sinful image" reemerges as a "pas-sion," the irrational force which comes to determine our thought and con-duct. Only strenuous ascetic exercise can purge the heart thereafter. The great weapon of protection and purgation is "the name of Jesus." His name is a terror to the devils, said St. Barsanuphius. We may pray, 'bLord Jesus Christ, Thou Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner." The "desert fathers" recommend that this prayer be repeated slowly, quietly, sincerely. When said with.faith and understanding, it is not "vain repeti-tion." It becomes important to spiritual and mental health. Some Fathers have been known to have recited the "Jesus rPrayer'' all through the night--a prayer "without ceasing." Rightly practiced, it will eventually pass to and mysteriously, effortlessly, beat witti the organ of the heart. The "Jesus Prayer" becomes.the automatic "'Prayer of the Heart." Admittedly, those who have reached this perfection are very few. They are also those men and women who may preview already on earth the joys of heaven."~ Let us make one thing clear before we proceed. According to the Ortho-dox Church, "the religious experience" is never wholly "private" and never "anti-establishment." To be sure, the quality and intensity of that experience depends upon the holiness of the individual, but it is an ex-perience which transpires within the Church. We may call it "mystical," if we wish, but it is not the "'mystical experience" of a special person, a psychedelic, insulated, isolated, exotic, mayhaps erotic experience. In Orthodoxy, the "religious" or "'mystical experience" of any of her mem-bers- including the holy monk and nun--is the experience of the entire Church, relative, as we said, to the degree of sanctity. The Church is a soborny, a mystical, organic fellowship of believers, if for no other reason than that of the Holy Eucharist, "the mystical supper~" as St. John Chrysostom called it, enjoyed by all the faithful. " In connection with this matter, too, is the teaching of'the Eastern Church that truth is the product of mystical experience, that is, dogma is the product of holiness, not of ratiocination. But if truth follows from holiness, 3The Orthodox Church rejects the idea of the "'beatific vision" if by that is meant beholding the Essence of God, whether in this life or the next. The saved will see only the deified Christ "'face to face" (see Vladimir Lossky, The Vision of God: London, 1963). 684 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 then there is no surer vehicle of divine revelation than the monk, he who has committed his entire life to the fight with the devil and the struggle with the passions. As a matter of historical fact, the greatest teachers of the Church have been monks, whether clergy or not. It is correct to say, however, that the supreme witnesses to the Christian faith have been monks who were also bishops, since bishops have almost invariably drawn from the monastery. The bishop has sometimes been an abbott or "'elder" (staretz, geron) whose reputation for holiness and wisdom is unsurpassed. Historically, he was the confessor and counselor of kings and queens. Furthermore, the Orthodox Church has never failed to contain .great women ascetics, many of whom have been found in the convent. Through-out the centuries, they have been persons to whom Christians have turned for wisdom and consolation. Although women cannot teach in the Church nor become priests, they have been miracle-workers, iconographers, poets, models of virtue. St. Mary of Egypt dwelt in the desert for more thanforty years. By her miracles and preachment, St. Nina was ,the converter of Georgia in Russia. Numerous women saints have been given the honorific title "Equal to the Apostles," such as St. Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine. The abbe

Issue 28.6 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor,.as well as books for review, should be sent to I~VIEW 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 + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Dt, imty 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 (~) 1969by REVIEW FOg REmnlous 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 persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. BOX 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REVIEW RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review 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. NOVEMBER 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 6 BROTHERS THOMAS MORE, C.F.X:, AND LEO RYAN, C.S.V. Development: A New Challenge to Religious In a majority of the articles written these days in religious journals, the emphasis has been largely on areas which are of great concern for those seeking ways to achieve renewal and adaptation in the religious life. As a result, new and valuable insights have been gained in such areas as government, the evangelical counsels, prayer, community, personal responsibility, the aposto-late, secularization, and formation. There is, however, one significant movement which has yet to be fully treated in journals written for re-ligious. And because this movement could elicit from the religious families in the Church a response corre-sponding to that which characterized the great move-ments in the past, we want to draw the attention of religious to this phenomenon so that it" can become a + growing part of the literature on renewal and adapta- + tion. This movement can best be described as development. Because development is still more or less in its infancy stage, only gradually emerging into a full-blown move-ment in society and in the Church, it is not our in-tention to give here a definition of the term. Instead, we want to describe a number of events and programs which will illustrate not only the potential dynamism of de-velopment but also the implications which it has for religious institutes. On January 6, 1967, Paul VI issued the motu proprio Catholicam Christi Ecclesiam setting up the Pontifical Justice and Peace Commission. The objective of this Commission would be "to arouse the people of God to 869 Thomas More, C.F.X., is superior general of the Xa-verian Brother~; Antonio Bosio 5; 00161 Rome, Italy. Leo Ryan, C.$.V., is general councilor of the Viatorian Fath-ers and Brothers; Via Sierra Nevada 60; 00144 Rome, Italy. VOLUME 2B, 1969 + 4. 4. Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS full awareness of its mission at the present time, in order on the one hand, to promote the progress of poor nations and encourage international social justice, and on the other, to help underdeveloped nations to work for their own development." 1 Shortly after establishing this new curial organ, Paul VI issued his famous encyclical, Populorum progressio, which is the charter of the Pontifical Commission and its basic text. The call of the encyclical is to all the Church, which is to be educated, stimulated, and in-spired to action by it. Cardinal Maurice Gilroy of Quebec, president of the Pontifical Commission, and Monsignor Joseph Gremil-lion, its secretary, set about the arduous task of travel-ing throughout the world to create national commis-sions for justice and peace witkin bishops' corr[erences. After this work had been completed, the commission turned to the Union of Superiors General in Rome to solicit its support. Monsignor Joseph Gremillion per-sonally addressed the Union, urging it to establish con-tact with the Commission and to take an active role in the promotion of the aims of development within all the religious families of the Church. in May, 1968, the Union unanimously approved the writers of this article as its official liaison with the Pontifical Commis-sion. Now that the liaison committee has been in existence for one year, it is in a position to discern a number of trends which indicate the response religious institutes will make to development in the immediate future. The remainder of this paper will be devoted to an elabora-tion of these trends and a brief description of the more important programs from which these trends have is-sued. At the present time we see four trends in development which have significant implications for religious insti-tutes. It is very dear now that development has an ecumenical character. Second, because of the nature of development, religious institutes will be looking for- 1Father. Arthur McCormack makes the following clarification: "The name Justice and Peace must be understood in the following way: Justice means social justice within and between nations so that every human being should have conditions of life in keeping with his human dignity, which will enable him to progress towards a fully human development--to the fullness of a more abundant life~ and enable him also to make his contribution to building a new and better world. Peace is to be understood, not in the sense of main-raining peace or working for peace in the political or diplomatic sense, but in the sense of building peace--the new name for peace is development--producing the conditions that are fundamental for peace, a more just, humane, better world in accordance with para. 76 of the Encyclical, Populorum Progressio" ("The Pontifical Com-mission Justice and Peace," World Justice, v. 8 (1967), pp. 435-55). ward to training specialists in planning, sociology, tech-nology, and social justice. Towards this end, some re-ligious institutes are establishing within their general administration a secretariat for development, Third, there is a growing spirit of collaboration within re-ligious institutes, since it is evident that no religious family can tackle the problems with its own resources. Finally, there is a search for a new theology of develop-ment. 1. Ecumenical Character oI Development In the spring of 1968, the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace, the Catholic .Rural Life Society, under the direction of Monsignor Luigi Liguitti, SEDOS, FERES, and ISS2 sponsored a two-day seminar on the Church in developing countries at the theologate of the Oblates of Mary, Rome. This seminar was arranged specifically for superiors general and their curias to acquaint them with development. However, interest in the meeting was so great that it turned out to be a cross-section of some of the most important European bodies having a Third World orientation. At the meet-ing were representatives from several Roman Congrega-tions, the German mission-sponsoring agencies Adveniat and Misereor, Caritas Internationalis, Protestant ~6b-servers, sociologists, and a number of developing organi-zations from Italy, France, Germany, Belgium, and Hol-land. The Catholic-Protestant team under the direction of Canon Houtart (FERES) and Professor Egbert de Vries (ISS) gave the audience a report of their three-year Ford-funded study of the Churches' work in the four developing countries of India, Brazil, Indonesia, and the Cameroons, in the areas of education, medicine, and social work.3 But of far greater importance than any of the socio-logical findings of the three-year study of FERES-ISS was the ecumenical character of the study and the seminar. The meeting was tangible evidence of the growing spirit of collaboration between the Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches, especially in an area which was once the most sensitive one in ~SEDOS (Servizio di Documentazione e Studi) is a cooperative documentation and research venture on the part of about thirty superiors general in Rome. FERES (Federation Internationale des Instituts Catholiques de Recherches Socio-religieuses) is the inter-nationally well-known research center in Brussels. ISS (Institute for Social Studies) is the Protestant counterpart of FERES and is lo-cated at The Hague. 8 A report of this seminar has been published by SEDOS under the title, The Church in Developing Countries;.Via dei Verbiti, 1; Rome, Italy. ÷ ÷ Development VOLUME 28, 1969 871 4" 4" Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the past--the developing countries. It is not surprising, then, that one of the most important conclusions ac-cepted by the superiors general was that cooperation between the different denominations be extended. Moving quickly from theory to action, the superiors general of several congregations devoted to medicine shortly after the seminar entered into discussions with the Christian Medical Commission, a semi-auton-omous organism related to the World Council of Churches. As a result of a number of meetings between Mr. J. McGilvray of the Executive Committee of the CMC, Geneva, and these religious congregations, the CMC Executive Committee reached the important con-sensus this past March that five Roman Catholic con-sultants would be appointed to the Commission after nomination by the Secretariat for the Promotion of Christian Unity. These consultants were present at the Commission's general assembly in August of this year. A third example of ecumenical cooperation in de-velopment is of far greater significance, since it was mounted on a larger international stage. In 1967 the World Council of Churches and the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace formed the E~ploratory Committee on Society, Development and Peace (SODEPAX) as an experimental instrument for ecumenical collaboration. Father George H. Dunne, S.J., formerly of Georgetown University, was appointed by Dr. Eugene Carson Blake and Cardinal Maurice Roy as joint secretary of this committee. SODEPAX held a conference in April, 1968 on world cooperation for development in Beirut, Lebanon, to which it invited sixty specialists from all over the world. The participants were Protestants, Orthodox, Catholics, observer-consultants from intergovernmen-tal bodies, and two participants from the Muslim com-munity of Lebanon.4 The conference was the first attempt on the part of the World Council of Churches and the Roman Catholic Church to jointly study and plan the involve-ment of the Christian bodies for the betterment of society. It is a concrete example of the way churches will unite their moral forces towards achieving human dig-nity and world peace. One of the conclusions of the meeting states this objective in terms which make an appeal to all religious: This Report has suggested many ways in which the Churches, acting together, can foster development programs both in ¯ A report of this conference has been published under the title, World Development, the Challenge to the Churches; Publications Department; The Ecumenical Center; 150 Route de Ferney; Geneva, Switzerland. the advanced and developing countries. Joint action for de-velopment will serve basic Christian aims. To work for devel-opment is to express in particular measures the aspiration for brotherhood and human dignity for every individual. And it can also be a significant contribution toward a more orderly and peaceful world. Development can gradually reduce the gross imbalances which promote instability; working together can encourage a wider sense of community among mankind; and the strengthening of international agencies will create structures for common effort and order. These three examples of ecumenical collaboration in the field of development are growing evidences of the need for all religious institutes to work together with other Christian bodies to concert their actions for play-ing their part in the long task of building a more stable international order of well-being and peace for the whole human family. This ecumenical spirit should be built into the thinking and planning of general and provincial chapters, constitutions, formation programs, and the apostolic work of religious families. It should also be the concern of national conferences of re-ligious institutes. The work is of too vast proportions to be left to the interest of those few religious who have up until now been involved in development. 2. Specialists and International Vocation The second trend in development in religious com-munities is the deployment of personnel to act as specialists in the Third World, along with the estab-lishment within general curias of a secretariat for de-velopment. Shortly after the seminar on the Church in develop-ing countries, Misereor approached the superiors general with an offer to provide funds for the training of some specialists who would assist bishops' conferences in de-veloping countries in setting up offices of trained experts in planning. The offer came as a result of the dis-cussions at the seminar concerning the lack of the skills of planning for the proper deployment of dwin-dling personnel, the retooling of personnel for meeting the new needs of the day, and the necessity for co-operating with governments in national planning. The time had come, it was agreed, for religious com-munities to become deeply involved in this modern approach and to train experts who would have com-petency as well as apostolic zeal. After many months of discussions with the superiors general, Misereor agreed early this year to provide funds for the training of highly qualified development experts for the countries of Indonesia, East Africa, and the Congo. Other countries would be added as the pool of experts becomes larger. As the agreement was finally 4, 4, Development VOLUME 28, 1969 873 Brothers More ¯ and Ryan REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS worked out, the funds are in the form of a scholarship for 'the trairiing of experts in the fields of social ac-tion, science, communication, cooperatives, trade unions, medicine, agriculture, and technology. These experts would be seconded to central advisory and coordinat-ing bodies in the selected countries and would devote themselves specifically to the analysis of the problems, the planning of a strategy, and the coordination of pro-grams with national planning. This new type of service would be rendered by the religious ~ommunities only at the invitation of interested bishops' conferences of one of the three countries. This proposal clearly indicates that as the religious communities become more involved in social action, they will need more experts in this field. It also be-comes increasingly clear that religious congregations will now turn their efforts towards promoting and edu-cating a corps of highly qualified men and women who will act not for their individual communities alone but in teams for ihe good o[ society. This task force con-cept of highly competent religious from different in-stitutes could be the most dramatic response of religious congregations to the challenges provided in the Third World. From what we have just said, it is evident that re-ligious will have to respond more promptly and in-telligently to what we would call the apostolate of internationalism. To act as specialists in the Third World, to become globally involved in development, re-llgious will be entering more actively into what Barbara Ward calls our planetary community, a community which. cuts across all the lines and barriers of nations and races. In such a community, religious ought to feel very much at home, especially since the vision of all founders of religious communities extended beyond the hori-zons of a particular country or culture. That spirit which inspired founders to send their men and women to meet the needs of mankind in all parts of the world must now impel their followers to send trained and competent personnel to participate in international bodies which are working to achieve the humaniza-tion' of mankind. This apostolic thrust could be as dramatic and far-reaching as the missionary journey of Francis Xavier to the Indies. There are a number of religious currently engaged in this international apostblate. Those we have met or know of are: Father John Schutte, S.V.D., who was recently appointed by Pope Paul as assistant to Mon-signor Joseph Gremillion, Secretary of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace; Father Arthur Mc- Cormack, M.H.M., special consultant to the same Com-mission; Father Philip Land, S.J., Gregorian University, Rome; Father George H. Dunne, s.J., SODEPAX Joint Secretary, Geneva; Father Thomas F. Stransky, C.S.P., Secretariat for Promotion of Christian Unity; Mother Jane Gates, Superior General of the Medical Missionary Sisters, who is working with the World Council of Churches in the field of medicine; and Father Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C. The first indication we have of a religious institute becoming serious about development and the promo-tion of the international apostolate is the derision of Father Pedro Arrupe, superior general of the Jesuits, to establish a secretariat for development within the curia of his general administration. Father Francis Ivern has been appointed by Father Arrupe to head this secretariat. Similar offices could be set up in many of the larger congregations of men and women. In the case of smaller units, it is quite possible that interested and competent religious could be, as a matter of policy, trained to take their place in general curias. Others could be as-signed to work on task forces, national bishops' con-ferences, international or national research centers, na-tional conferences of religious, and the pontifical or the national conferences of justice and peace. 3. Spirit of Collaboration It is quite evident from what has been said above that there is growing within religious congregations and institutes a greater spirit of collaboration to make the response called for by Populorum progressio and the objectives of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. Since the work of development is of such gigantic proportions, no one rellgious institute can unilaterally plan its involvement in it. No one individual religious, or even a cadre of them, can shoulder the heavy re-sponsibility of this new apostolate. It must be the work of all religious, or the efforts for the humanization of mankind will be considerably weakened. One model of collaboration already exists in Rome. It is an organization to which we have already re-ferred many times, namely, SEDOS. This voluntary organization of a number of superiors general, formed only six years ago on the initiative of a few missionary congregations, has in a short time given proof of the results that can flow ~om the spirit of collaboration. Within a span of just one year, for imtance, SEDOS has held a seminar on development, a symposium on the theology of development and mission, and a con-÷ ÷ ÷ Developme~ VOLUME 28, 1969 875 Brotmheurl s. RM~oarne REVIEW FOR.RELIGIOUS terence on intermediate technology. As noted already, it has worked out an agreement with Misereor to finance the education of a number of specialists for developing countries. It is also actively engaged in es-tablishing guidelines for a mutual exchange of ideas between the World Council of Churches and medical missionary congregations in the field of medicine. SEDOS is unique in a number of ways. Its member-ship consists of both men and women religious. Its ex-ecutive secretary is Father Benjamin Tonna, a secular priest from Malta, who is a professional sociologist. The director is Miss Joan Overboss, a multilingual expert from Holland. But its uniqueness lies principally in its spirit of co-operation among the superiors general in facing the new problems evolving from the Third World. Since there was no structure among religious institutes or in any Roman curial congregation to help religious fami-lies prepare themselves for their involvement in the work of development, superiors general united their forces to establish a documentation and research center which would enable them to convert from a family business to a modern and efficient concern. Thus, for the first time in the Church's history, religious congre-gations have banded together at the highest level to make their contribution in an area in which the Church in recent years has focused its principal at-tention. This same spirit of collaboration is evident in such countries as the Congo and Indonesia, where religious are working together with bishops' conferences in es-tablishing planning secretariats. Quite recently we read an appeal by the East African conference of religious to its membership to turn itself to the question of de-velopment and to form a task force that would assist the bishops' conferences in establishing a secretariat for development. If religious congregations are to involve themselves in this apostolate, this spirit of cooperation must con-tinue to grow. Many religious want to see their in-stitutes take decisive measures to execute the social objectives of Populorum progressio and to work actively to achieve the goals of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. The younger generation of religious also want to become actively engaged in working to create conditions within and between nations that are in keeping with the human dignity of man. But they need some concrete programs to give them direction. As a step towards establishing some programs, con-ferences of religious and individual institutes could give attention to the following suggestions made by the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace at the end of its first plenary meeting of March, 1967: 1. That Bishops' Conferences, teaching orders and all those concerned with education should be encouraged to include the teaching of international social justice in the curricula of schools, seminaries, universities and all institutions of learn-ing. 2. That retreats, sermons and specifically religious instruc-tion should emphasize the discussion of world justice, ~. That such curricula should be, where possible and suit-able, worked out on an ecumenical basis. 4. That competent study groups, again when suitable on an ecumenical basis, should continue the work of elaborating a doctrine of world-wide development and justice. 5. That lay groups of all kinds be invited to include world justice in their programs of adult education and, when com-petent to do so, assist the Commission in suggesting programs for the mass media. 4. A New Theology ot Development A concern very often expressed at the seminar on de-velopment alluded to above was that what was needed was an honest exchange of views on the theological foundation of development. In fact, one of the prin-cipal resolutions of the seminar asked the Congregation for Evangelization to put the theology of development on its agenda for its next meeting and for eventual presentation to the Holy Father as agenda for the next Synod of Bishops. Another resolution requested a sym-p. osium on mission and development. These two actions reveal that a theology of develop-ment has become a matter of urgency for religious. So long as the effort of missionaries was expended 'within the limits of a parish or a diocese, no special problem presented itself. But today the organization of develop-ment has become a much more complex affair; it has assumed the dimensions of whole nations, of entire continents, of the planetary community itself. While such a task calls for specialists, the ordinary missionaries run the danger of no longer seeing and understanding the role they are called on to play in the task of de-velopment. They stand, then, in perplexity when faced with the contradictory opinions of theologians. If some theolo-gians insist on the irreplaceable character of the proc-lamation of God's word and of the sacramental ministry, missionaries taken up with the tasks of development be-cause of the demands of the situations in which they find themselves and the concrete needs they daily encounter are troubled by an uneasy conscience. If other theologians stress the primary role of development, then those mis-sionaries whose tasks are those which belong to the more + + + Developmem VOLUME 28, Z969 8?7 traditional patterns of the apostolate begin to question the value of what they are doing. It was in response to this perplexity that the superiors general of SEDOS held a mission theology symposium in Rome this past April. Theologians from Europe and other parts of the world were invited to tackle this prob-lem first among themselves, and second in open discus-sions with the generals and their staffs.~ This symposium's importance lies in the fact that it has brought before religious congregations the theologi-cal dimensions of development, while adding to the growing literature on tlfis subject. This hard confronta-tion with the realities of development is a hopeful sign of growth within the Church and religious institutes. And instead of standing before the reality with perplex-ity and bewilderment, religious institutes, with their sense of global dedication, ought to be in the vanguard of working out a new theology of development. This mission theology symposium should set the pace for all religious families of the church. It has been our intention in this paper to draw the attention of religious to the phenomenon of develop-ment so that it can become a growing part of the litera-ture on renewal and adaptation. As a contribution to this literature on renewal, we have pointed out four major trends we have noted over the past year in the field of development as they affect religious institutes. The contribution religious can make to development, we are convinced, is enormous. The single attempts being made here and there must spring into a massive effort that will engage religious in a venture that has taken the center stage of the Church. If development is the new word for peace, it is a new challenge to religious. ~ Preparations are being made for the publication of the pro-ceedings of this symposium in various languages. The English edi-tion will be published by Maryknoll Publications. Brothers More and R~an REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JAMES A. CLARK Placing U. S. Personnel in Latin America Once a bishop or provincial decides to give manpower assistance to Latin America, he quickly discovers the dif-ficulties of attempting to find the wisest way to assign priests, brothers, or nuns to projects in Latin America. Since few authorities can agree on proper priorities for such placements, a superior is wise to recognize im-mediately that optimum, effective assignment of per-sonnel throughout Latin America represents an unat-tainable goal. In the past, assignment of American religious in the southern half of the hemisphere resulted from acciden-tal factors. The high ratio of Americans in Peru derived from the efforts of a zealous nuncio who welcomed them warmly. The large numbers of Americans in Guatemala result from a statistic that indicated that Guatemala had the worst proportion of priests to peo.ple of any Latin American country. Bewildered superiors anxious to respond to appeals of the Vatican to send missionaries to Latin America seized on this fact as a reason to send their subjects to Guatemala. Localized concentrations of Americans usually can be traced to a friendship begun at the Vatican Council between North and Latin Ameri-can Church leaders or through the bonds of a religious community existing in both halves of the hemisphere. The complexity of properly placing people in Latin America appears as a new problem because previously the allocating of workers to missionary lands did not require any accommodation with a structured Church in the foreign situation as is the case now in Latin America. One locale appeared as needy and worthwhile as another for apostolic laborers. The presence of a viable and strong Church in Latin America demands :extreme delicacy in interposing foreigners to serve that Church. Yet the need is so general and widespread in Latin America that from a spiritual point of view it has be- 4- ÷ James A. Clark is a staff member of the apostolic delegation at The Manor House in Rockcliffe Park; Oto tawa 2, Canada. VOLUME 28, 1969 879 come impossible for even the indigenous Church to ar-rive at a generally satisfactory set of realistic and valid preferences. Priorities which have aided in the distribution of financial grants are applicable in part to the appoint-ment of people even. though this latter commodity, people, raises mnch more profound questions since it is so much more precious and scarce in Latin America. This dilemma especially concerns diocesan priests be-cause the international 'religious communities already have a functioning system for distribution of their mem-bers. This arrangement, made under the auspices of the Holy See, has served for generations and enables provincials to provide staff for missionary areas without an agonizing analysis in each case. Those communities without Latin American branches and bishops entering the field for the first time find the subject distressingly difficult. The. Most Reverend Marcos McGrath, Second Vice- .President of the Bishops' Council for Latin America (GELAM), has encouraged even the religious communi-ties to refuse to cling to traditional apostolates and to become open to new forms of ministry: Priorities of needs in the churches of Latin America can be determined most effectively when undertaken by a national episcopal conference. Deciding who comes first is a difficult exercise in the spirit of collegiality because each bishop would like to see his diocese at the top of the list. But it is a necessary exercise and is of great assistance to those from abroad who want to know what the bishops as a whole think about the needs of their country. A listing of priorities may indeed be prepared, by a special committee named by the local bishops. Such an arrangement has been requested in some instances by various organizations of assistance. CELAM's continental sec-retariat of the Latin American bishops may indicate some gen-eral priorities of needs through its specialized departments. ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Several complex plans have been proposed to resolve the problem of placement. The secretariat of the U.S. Bishops' Committee for Latin America once devised a coordinating committee of ten expert advisers to counsel bishops on the proper method of allocating personnel for Latin America. However since the ten could not agree among themselves on how to achieve best results the committee never met and the plan died. The secretariat received requests from most of the ecclesiastical jurisdictions in Latin America (more than 600) and circulated these to bishops and superiors of religious houses. However, no attempt to provide criteria for selecting one petition over another ever appeared. Standard policy urged superiors to.visit potential recipi- ¯ ent areas personally, a rather unrealistic suggestion for harried superiors already overstocked with requests for their manpower. Naturally, bishops prefer to retain jurisdiction over their priests. For this reason the concept of a military ordinariate type structure to recruit, train, and appoint personnel in Latin America failed to receive widespread acceptance, since experience .with military chaplains alerted bishops to the fear of losing control of their sub-jects for the major portion of their ministerial lives. Several prominent churchmen, support attempts to permit diocesan priests to serve in a religious community on the missions through a temporary connection with a religious order. Only diocesan priests who have lived for any length of time in the house of a religious society can foresee the difficulties of this plan. In spite of abundant good will on the part of all involved there is no escaping the feeling on the part of the secular priest that he is a "junior" or "non-incorporated" subject, without status and without the possibility of participation in decision making sessions. Likewise, this association causes the priest to lose identity both at home and abroad as a diocesan priest serving temporarily on the missions. The entry of diocesan priests with previous parish ex-perience into missionary areas revealed the value of these men over those who went directly to the missions upon ordination without any experience in a normal parish situation to use as a barometer for their missionary en-deavors. A diocese-to-diocese setup is not workable because one diocese in the States cannot properly provide for train-ing, support, leave time, illness, vacations, and so forth of overseas staff. Yet a method must be found which preserves the interest of the home diocese which usually provides the financial wherewithal enabling the Latin American mission to function. Other proposals include appointing men for a time to a national conference of bishaps in a given country, in-cardinating priests temporarily into a Latin American diocese, or assigning them to the U.S. Bishops' Com-mittee for Latin America, which, in conjunction with the U.S. and Latin American bishops involved, could arrange for training and distribution of priests. Two countries have established national offices to deal with this issue, and bishops assigning men to either Chile or Brazil need only refer to the national offices for ad-vice. Several methods of providing diocesan priests to Latin America have sprung up among the 76 dioceses involved in this effort. 24 dioceses merely permitted priests to go to Latin America. 17 assumed responsibility to support the volunteer priests during their term of Latin Ameri- 4- 4- 4- Latin America can service but they make no provisions for the assign-ment of these priests. 34 accept the task of supporting a parish or several parishes in Latin America. In Boston, Richard Cardinal Cushing founded in 1958 a society to bring these diocesan priests together. Currently this St. James (the Cardinal's middle name) Society counts slightly more than 100 members from 30 dioceses in the U.S. and several European countries. This corps pro-vides pastoral services to a half million people spread across Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia. It represents the best vehicle currently available for sending diocesan priests to Latin America. A similar organization for pooling nuns going to Latin America received attention at an inter-American meeting of Bishops at Georgetown University in 1959 but has failed to be implemented. In attempting to establish priorities, the national conferences of Bishops in Latin America have proved to be a boon although usually the primatial archbishop in a country tends to see his own needs first and with good reason for he usually presides over the largest metropoli-tan portion of that country. But rural bishops complain about the criteria when they witness most foreign ar-rivals remaining in the capital city. Both CELAM and the Pontifical Commission for Latin America have sought to provide a solution in this sensitive area but without success, as most attempts at coordination cause disputes over the choice of one diocese over another as beneficiary of American clerics. Originally the Pontifical Commission offered the facili-ties of the nunciatures throughout Latin America as clearing houses, but a.fear of Roman control of the en-tire movement impelled both donor and petitioner dioceses to bypass quietly any Commission services. As a former nuncio in Panama, the late Archbishop Paul Bernier commented on this question during his tenure on the Canadian Bishops' Commission for Latin America: lames A. Clark REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS I think there is a strong feeling against forming a society of any kind. Most of the bishops, if I understand well, insist on having and keeping an effort of the secular clergy as such with no affiliation, neither to the diocese ad quam nor to any particular religious or semi-religious society but to keep all of them [the priests] incardinated in the diocese a qua. If they don't want to stay there for more than five years, or if for any other reason they cannot remain, they come back to their own diocese just as if they were never out of it. I think that in Canada at least the impression of the bishops would be rather contrary to affiliating or incorporating our diocesan ~nd secular priests to any particular society. Most bishops would be willing, however, to send according to their abilities one or two, five or ten priests, to some form of, not a society, but a responsible organization which in the last analysis would be in the hands of the Episcopal Committee for that. Whoever accepts responsibility for such appointments will have need of some priorities or guidelines since the priestly requirements of Latin America could not be fulfilled if every priest in. the United States went to Latin America. Some principles to follow in this area would include the following points. The i~rst choice to be made is a selection of a category of work for a religious volunteey, that is, shall I send my priest (or brother or sister) to work as a catechist, teacher, parish worker, or what? The departments of CELAM indicate the critical apostolates which normally will have first call on foreign services: education, medi-cine, social service, relief, charity, seminary/vocational work, catechetics, student/university apostolates, and service to laborers. Next the superior must choose a geographical classifi-cation, that is, shall I send him (her) to serve on the con-tinental level with CELAM, or on the regional or na-tional level with the conferences of bishops, or to the diocesan and local level. Foreigners often function best in posts removed from the intimate personal relation-ship of priest-to-parishioner which reqmres sensitive cul-tural perception. Usually their North American organi-zational talents achieve widest impact on a broader scale at the continental, regional, or diocesan levels. Also a decision must be made as to whether to send personnel to the rural or urban locations. Many Mary-knollers in Latin America have regretted the decision made many years ago to spread Society members across the mountain ranges. The impact of an individual is broader in the cities. On the other hand Cardinal Cush-ing says that the revolution in Latin America will be born in the mountains and the Church ought to be there. At one time it was thought preferable to assign North Americans to dioceses with North American bishops at the helm. This principle has been subsequently disre-garded since it leads to a danger of creating a church within a church, one foreign and one native. The monster parishes which have arisen in Latin America as a resuh of abundant American material and personnel aid have become a source of distress for Latin Americans and embarrassment for North Americans. Parish A flooded with American assistance can only re-flect poorly on parish B which is struggling along with local resources only. OccasionaIIy a choice arises between placing people in projects underwritten by private industry or govern-÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUM~ 28~ 1969 883 4- 4- REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 884 ments, for example, a company hospital or a state nor-mal school. These opportunities sometimes permit the assure, ption of responsibilities which would otherwise be financially prohibitive; on the other hand, alliance with a government or industrial concern can be severely det-rimental to the Church image and impact. .One essential requirement demands that the project given help be integrated into the local church structure. For this reason each local request must be approved by the national conference of bishops to insure that it co-ordinates with the national pastoral plan. From the viewpoint of the candidate to be sent to Latin America, if he or she speaks one of the languages of Latin America or has studied or served in a particular country naturally it is logical to assign the person to that place. All attempts to satisfy reasonable personal preferences will reduce the inevitable cultural shock suffered by v, olunteers. A first principle of sending people into Latin America is that they be sent as members of a team effort and never individually. The ability of the subject offering his services will sometimes be the final determinant of assignment; a seminary professor will not serve best in a slum parish nor will a Trappist normally function well in a mass communications program. Due to the profound social division in Latin America there is a need to predetermine whether personnel are to be placed in projects serving the wealthy or the im-poverished. In the latter case a realistic plan for external financing will normally be required. Projects which provide some hope of eventual self-sufficiency in regard to their staffing needs should be selected rather than those which will require permanent foreign workers. Realistic approaches to provide new solutions to basic religious problems of Latin America deserve special con-sideration. For examples, the novel approach to slum parish work of Father Andres Godin, a Canadian Oblate, in Lima, Peru; or that of American Oblate Edmund Leising who has developed a remarkable program in Brazil for promoting parish self-support through Ameri-can fund raising procedures; or the renowned apostolate of Father Leo Mahon in San Miguelito parish in Pan-ama who has discovered an entirely new process for parish effectiveness. These offer novel and successful approaches to stubborn problems. Similar examples of projects managed by Latin American priests themselves could be cited. Most superiors have the background to recognize that adequate and detailed financial arrangements must be agreed upon in advance by both sides to prevent animos-ity from developing on obscure financial responsibilities. The overall plan an agency presents ought to be ex-amined carefully to learn if it is realistically conceived. Experience in Latin America reveals that ill.constructed, idealistic proposals soon collapse. Those of us familiar with the problem of positioning personnel in Latin America are aware of the difficulties superiors face in this field. Hopefully some of the above remarks will assist the ongoing dialogue in this area and be of some assistance to those who seek to serve the Church by releasing people for work on the only Catholic continent of the globe. + + ÷ Latin America VOLUME 28, 1969 885 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Comments on tl e Instruction on Formation Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., writes from St. Joseph's Church; $21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19106. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Prepostulancy Nothing is said in the Instruction on a prepostulancy period. Number 4 states that it would be worthwhile to consider whether the practice of going directly to the novitiate from such places as aspirancies, apostolic schools, or minor seminaries should be continued or whether an interval of probation should be had to develop the human and emotional maturity of the candidate. In the case of those obliged to a postulancy by canon 539, § 1, this development can be taken care of during the postulancy, which can last up to two years and also be made while residing outside any house of the in-stitute (n. 12). There is nothing in the Instruction for or against such places as aspirancies but, as is clear from what was said above, number 4 presumes that they will continue to exist. Postulancy (nn. 4; 10-2; 33) Importance. "Hence it follows that all institutes, even those that do not prescribe the postulancy, must at-tach great importance to this preparation for the novice-ship" (n. 4). Purpose. This is to judge the suitability and aptitude of the candidate; to give a preparation that will enable the noviceship to be made more fruitfully; to provide a gradual transition from secular to religious life; and to verify and complete, if necessary, the religious knowledge of the candidate (nn. 11-2). "Tentative" in number 11 of the Vatican English translation is not in the Latin text and "to formulate a. judgment" is to form a judgment. Power of general chapter. In institutes in which the postulancy is of obligation by common law (in insti-tutes of perpetual vows: all women but in those of men only lay brothers) or by the constitutions, the gen-eral chapter may keep in mind, for a better adaptation of the postulancy~ the following norms (n. 12): Duration. In institutes in which the postulancy is not obligatory by common or constitutional law, the general chapter may determine its nature and duration, which can vary for different candidates but should not be too brief nor ordinarily longer than two years. In institutes in which the postulancy is obligatory from common law, it must last at least six full months (c. 589, § I), and this minimum time is more probably retained in the Instruction; but the general chapters of these institutes may also follow the two-year limit, the principle that the time may vary for different candi-dates, and probably that the minimum time may be less than six months (n. 12). 1 do not think the right of canon 539, § 2, to prolong the postulancy for six months extends to a postulancy of two years. A postu-lancy longer than two years would not be very rea-sonable, especially since it can be varied within that time for the individual. Place. Preferably not in the novitiate house, and it can be profitable for it to be made wholly or in part outside a house of the institute (n. 12). The postulancy may therefore be so organized that the postulants con-tinue to reside in their homes or in such another place as a college. See also numbers 4 and 11. The latter speaks of a "gradual transition from lay life to that proper to the noviceship." Director. The postulants, wherever the postulancy is made, are to be under the direction of qualified re-ligious, between whom and the master of novices there is to be sedulous cooperation (n. 12). Dross. The determination of the dress of the postu-lants appertains to the general chapter (n. 33). How-ever, canon 540, § 2, had required simply that the dress of the postulants be modest and different from that of the novices. It could therefore have been secular but modest; special and uniform, but this was not neces-sary; religious, but different from that of the novices. Noviceship (nn. 4-5; 13-33) Maturity requisite Ior beginning noviceship (n. 4). The noviceship should begin when the candidate is aware of God's call and has reached that degree of human and spiritual maturity which will allow him to decide to respond to this call with sufficient and proper knowledge and responsibility: "Most of the difficulties encountered today in the formation of novices are usually due to the fact that when they were admitted they did not have the required maturity., it must ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 887 ÷ ÷ ÷ $. F. Gallen, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 888 be affirmed that the age required for admission to the noviceship should be higher than heretofore" (n. 4). Place. The noviceship for validity must be made in a house legitimately designated for this purpose (n. 15) by the superior general with the consent of his council and according to the constitutions (n. 16). The superior general with the consent of his council and after consultation with the interested provincial may in a case of necessity permit also many novitiates in the same province (n. 17). When the small number of novices is not sufficient to promote community life, the superior general should, if possible, establish the novitiate in a community of the institute capable of aiding the formation of such a small group of novices (n. 18). To better meet some demands of their formation, the superior general may authorize that the group of novices be transferred during certain periods to another house of the institute designated by himself (n. 16). In particular and exceptional cases, the superior gen-eral with the consent of his council may permit that a candidate validly make his noviceship in a house of the institute other than the novitiate house, under the direction of a qualified religious acting as a master of novices (n. 19). Duration. For validity the noviceship must last for twelve months (n. 21). A continuous or interrupted absence from the noviti-ate group and house that exceeds three months ren-ders the noviceship invalid (ft. 22). In lesser absences the higher superior, after consulting the novice master and considering the reason for the absence, may in individual cases command an extension of the noviceship and determine its length, and this matter may also be determined by the constitutions (n. 22). Formative activity periods outside the novitiate house must be added to the required twelve months, nor may they be begun before a novice has spent three months in the novitiate (if the contrary is done, the noviceship be-gins only on the completion of the formative activity period) and must be so arranged that the novice spends a minimum of six continuous months in the novitiate, re-turns there at least a month before the first vows or other temporary commitment, and the time of the whole novice-ship extended in this manner may not exceed two years (n. 24). The noviceship amplified by such formative activity periods may not exceed two years, but this does not abrogate the right given to higher superiors in canon 571, § 2, to prolong the noviceship up to six months in a doubt about the suitability of a candidate. Such a prolongation is permitted in a noviceship of two years without formative activity periods. A higher superior for a just cause may permit first profession or commitment to be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26). Formative activity periods. The general chapter by at least a two-thirds vote may experimentally enact, in keeping with the nature of the institute, one or more periods of formative activity outside the novitiate house, the number to be determined in practice accord-ing to the judgment of the master of novices with the consent of the higher superior, for the formation of the novices or, in some cases, for a better judgment of their aptitude for the life of the institute. Such periods may be used for one, several, or the entire group of novices. If possible a novice should not be assigned alone to these periods. In these periods the novices are under the direction of the master of novices (nn. 23, 25). "It must be emphasized that this formative activ-ity, which complements novitiate teaching, is not in-tended to provide the novices with the technical or professional training required for certain apostolic ac-tivities, training which will be afforded to them later on, but rather to help them, in the very midst of these activities, to better discover the exigencies of their vocation as religious and how to remain.faithful to them" (n. 5; see also n. 25). Separation of novices. There must be some separation between the novices and the professed religious, with whom, however, and with other communities, the novices may have contact according to the judgment of the master of novices. It appertains to the general chapter to decide, according to the nature of the institute and particular circumstances, what contacts may be had between the novices and the professed of the institute (n. 28). The use of the term "professed re-ligious" in the second sentence makes it sufficiently clear that there is no prohibition of contact between the novices and the postulants, as might be feared from the word "members" in the other two sentences of number 28. Studies during the noviceship. The general chapter may permit or command certain studies during the nov-iceship for the better formation of the novices, but doctri-nal studies should be directed to the knowledge and love of God and to the development of a more profound life of faith. From the twelve months of noviceship of number 21 all studies, even theological and philosophi-cal, made for obtaining diplomas or for acquiring a formation directed to preparation for fulfilling future Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 889 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 890 duties are forbidden (n. 29). Provided doctrinal studies are directed to the spiritual life, as prescribed in the first sentence, it is probably not forbidden to receive credits for such studies when these can be had but the studies are not to be directed to the attaining of credits. There is no doubt that the prescription on doctrinal studies in this first sentence also applies only to the twelve months of noviceship of number 21, as is also true of the canonical legislation in canon 565, § 3, on this point, "even though the Latin text says "during the time of the noviceship," not "during the regular novitiate year," as in the English translation. The latter also has "all formal study programs" in the second paragraph whereas the Latin reads "all studies." Dress o] the novices. It appertains to the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices (n. 33). Number 33 speaks of the "habit of the novices and of other candidates for the religious life." It certainly had not been the practice nor is there any tendency to give a religious habit to postulants, and the meaning here of "habit" is "dress." No limitation is placed on the power of the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices and postulants. Canon 557 commands the wear-ing of the habit during the whole time of the noviceship, but it has also been maintained that the noviceship is an uncertain time and that the habit, to retain all its significance, should not be given to the novices. Noviceship lot another class. Unless the constitutions determine otherwise, a noviceship made for one class is valid for another (n. 27). The constitutions may de-termine the conditions regulating a transfer from one class to another (n. 27), Novice master. The novices are under the direction of the novice master who may seek the aid of other skilled helpers (n. 30). This is to be kept in mind with regard to a formation team. See also numbers 5, 12, 15, 23, 31, 32. Temporary Bond (nn. 2, 6-9; 34-8) A different temporary bond may be established and ]or all. Number 34 gives a faculty, not a precept, but in general language: "The General Chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may decide to replace temporary vows with some other kind of commitment as, for example, a promise made to the institute." The same general lan-guage is found in numbers 2, 6, 10, 24,' 37-8. The pos-sibility of the extension to all in the probation after the noviceship is not certainly excluded by other num-bers of the Instruction. A dil~erent bond should be introduced only a]ter most careful thought. The reasons are (1) number 34 demands a two-thirds vote of the general chapter to in-troduce a different bond and (2) number 7 explidtly re-quires such careful thought: "No institute should de-cide to use the faculty granted by this Instruction to replace temporary vows by some other form of commit-ment without having clearly perceived and weighed the reasons for and the nature of this change." A different bond in fairness, prudence, and proper regard [or sound spirituality should be introduced only [or those in whom the special immaturity exists. The reasons are (1) by vows a special consecration is had according to number 2: "Thus it is that religious pro-fession is an act of religion ~nd a special consecration whereby a person dedicates himself to God." (2) Be-cause according to number 7 temporary vows are com-pletely in harmony with the greater response to God so important at the beginning of the religious life and also enable the candidate to make the consecration proper to the religious state: "For him who has heeded the call of Jesus to leave everything to follow Him there can be no question of how important it is to respond generously and wholeheartedly to this call £rom the very outset of his religious life; the making of temporary vows is completely in harmony with this requirement. For, while still retaining its probationary character by the fact that it is temporary, the profession of first vows makes the young religious share in the consecration proper to the religious state." (3) Because immaturity is the sole reason given (n. 7) for substituting another temporary commitment: "In fact, more fre-quently now than in the past, a certain number [quidam] of young candidates come to the end of their novitiate without having acquired the religious ma-turity sufficient to bind themselves immediately by re-ligious vows, although no prudent doubt can be raised regarding their generosity or their authentic vocation to the religious state. This hesitancy in pronbuncing vows is frequently accompanied by a great awareness of the exigencies and the importance of the perpetual religious profession to which they aspire and wish to prepare themselves." (4) Possibly also because the desire for the different commitment was true only of some institutes (n. 7): "Thus it has seemed desirable in a certain num-ber o[ institutes that at the end of their noviceship the novices should be able to bind themselves by a temporary commitment different from vows, yet answering their twofold desire to give themselves to God and the institute and to pledge themselves to a fuller preparation for perpetual profession." Since the Instruction describes temporary vows as a consecration that is special, proper to the religious state, and in harmony with the greater ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28. 1969 89! + ÷ .~. Fo Gallen, $J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 89~> response to God, it at least seems unfair, imprudent, and without regard for sound spirituality to deprive a novice of temporary vows when he has all the quali-ties requisite for making them, that is, when he is not affected by the special immaturity described in number 7. ¯ Some observations on this immaturity. Is this im-maturity proper to the young or is it the emotionalism that is today found in many older religious, and which the young often manifest only after continuous contact with such older religious? Isn't there a movement at this moment in the United States to give the vote to those who are eighteen years of age because the young are now more politically mature? In more than thirty states it has been the law that a girl of eighteen may marry without the consent of her parents. Is there any widespread tendency at present to change this very general law because of the immaturity of the ~young? Don't some hold that the greater physical development of modern youth argues to a greater psychological de-velopment? Does one frequently and without indoctri-nation encounter a novice who is judged to have a certain religious vocation (see also c. 571, § 2) but is too immature to take temporary vows? What factual and ob-jective investigations were made in the United States to prove the existence of such immaturity? Isn't it true that such immaturity would occur with regard to the temporary vow of chastity, not of poverty or obedience? Prescinding now from the obligation of the different commitment, don't the commandments of God still bind such a candidate and under serious sin in a violation of chastity? The simplest and most appropriate different com-mitment would be a promise to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience because (1) neither the form nor the object of the different commitment is determined in the Instruction (see n. 34) but (2) in numbers 7 and 35 the Instruction at least says it is fitting that the dit~erent commitment should in some way refer to the exercise of the three evangelical counsels, for example in number 7: "Whatever form such a temporary commitment may take, it is in keeping, with fidelity to a genuine religious vocation that it should in some way be based on the requirements of the three evangelical counsels." and (3) more directly and even categorically in number 13 the Instruction apparently says that the novice is to make profession of the evangeli-cal counsels at the end of the noviceship by temporary vows or other temporary commitment: ".that a novice.may implement the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience, the profession of which 'either by vows or by other sacred bonds that are like vows in their purpose' he will later make." This number of the Instruction is talking of a novice and therefore o[ the first consecration, which can be either vows or another temporary commitment. There is no alternative for the profession of perpetual vows. Other forms and objects of commitment are possible. The form and object of members in the strict sense of secular institutes is: "By making profession before God of celibacy and perfect chastity, which shall be confirmed by vow, oath, or consecration binding in conscience, according to the constitutions; by a vow or promise of obedience.by a vow or promise of poverty." (Provida Mater Ecclesia, February 2, 1947, Art. III). Some of the different forms of commitments in societies of common life without public vows are annual private vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and the service of the poor; private perpetual vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; promise of fidelity to the observance of the rule and constitutions; perpetual promise of observ-ance of common life and poverty; perpetual agreement to obey the rule of the institute; perpetual oath of perseverance and obedience; and perpetual oath and promise of perseverance and obedience,x The societies of common life more £requently encountered are the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, Eudists, Josephites, Maryknoll Missionaries, Oratorians, Pallot-tine Fathers, Paulists, Precigus Blood Fathers, Sulpicians, Vincentians, and White Fathers. Is one who makes a di1~erent temporary commitment in a state of perfection, in the religious state, a re-ligious, and a member of his institute? This is at least a very basic question and with wide implications. The negative arguments are that the Instruction nowhere says that one who makes a different temporary commit-ment is a religious and that canon 488, 7°, demands public vows to constitute a religious. On the other hand (1) vows are required only by canon law, not by divine law or the nature of the matter,2 to constitute a re-ligious, and the Instruction derogates from this canon law, as will be seen from the following arguments: (2) number 36 states absolutely that the subject is united with his institute and absolutely that he is obliged to observe its law; (3) the Instruction throughout does not differentiate between such a commitment and temporary vows (see nn. 2, 6, 10, 24, 34, 37-8); (4) num-ber 10 states explicitly that the temporary commitment is not the noviceship. If an entirely new state were being 1 See also Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 497; Guti~rrez, Gora-mentarium pro religiosis, 38 (1959), 312-3. =See Goyeneche, De religiosis, 10-11; Guti~rrez, op.cit., 29 (1050), 72-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOU, JME 25, 89~ REV;EW FOR RELIGIOUS introduced distinct from that of the noviceship and temporary vows, this should have been dearly stated in the Instruction. (5) The probationary periods can last for thirteen years. This seems in itself to be un-reasonable if the subject does not become a member of the institute until the end of such time. The professed of temporary vows are members by first profession. The present canon law does not permit a duration of tempo-rary vows longer than six years, and canon 642, § 2, likens a professed of six years of temporary vows to one of perpetual vows. (6) During this prolonged time the institute would not be held in the case of such a subject to the norms of dismissal for professed but could dismiss him almost in the manner of a novice, whereas the pro-fessed of temporary vows would have also a right of sus-pensive recourse against his dismissal. Nor would canon 643, § 2, on the charitable subsidy apply, nor canon 646 on an automatic dismissal. (7) There would be an evident distinction in the rights and obligations of these subjects and the professed of temporary vows even though both would be in the same factual state of proba-tion. It is true, as number 7 states, tl~at "the profesz sion of first vows., makes the candidate share in the consecration proper to the religious state." Such a consecration, however, is required only by canon or human law, which can therefore enact that other suitable forms of commitment would also constitute a candidate in the religious state and make him a re-ligious, as also because such a candidate is always des-tined for this proper consecration in perpetual profes-sion. Religious women are nuns and their institutes are religious orders even though no one in fact has solemn vows provided at least some are destined for solemn vows from the particular law of the institute. Public vows would also remain proper to the religious state and to religious institutes since they are not had either in societies of common life nor in secular institutes. I therefore believe that the subject in a different temporary commitment is in a state of perfection, in the religious state, is a religious, and a member of his institute, but the question should be authoritatively serried by the Holy See. In the contrary opinion, those in a different temporary commitment are in a state that is neither noviceship nor profession, one also for which we have no parallel, and consequently a state of deep obscurity at least juridically. Determination o~ details b) the general chapter (n. 36). In virtue of canon 543 only a higher superior is competent to admit to the noviceship and to any re-ligious profession. The same canon demands a vote of the council or chapter for admission to the novice- ship, first temporary, and perpetual professions. The gen-eral chapter should require the deliberative vote for admission to the first temporary commitment and pre-scribe for renewals and prolongation of. such a com-mitment the same vote as is enacted in the constitutions for these acts with regard to temporary profession. The same policy should be observed concerning the superior competent for permitting an anticipated renewal of the temporary commitment, for exclusion from renewal or from the profession of perpetual vows (c. 637), and for the vote of the council in this case. The superior general with at least the advice of his council should be given the faculty of consenting to the dissolution of the com-mitment by the subject, to so consent to the request of the subject at any time during a commitment, who can then be immediately admitted to temporary vows, and with the consent of his council from the institute. Reception of ment is not necessary because it (c. 1308, § 1), and the consent of to dismiss a subject the different commit-is not a public vow the institute was suf-ficiently given and expressed in the admission to the commitment or its renewal. The general chapter could prescribe reception since such a repeated consent of the institute is not contrary to common law. The formula of the vows will have to be changed for a different commitment, for example, a promise will be to the institute, not to God as is a vow. Even if the new com-mitment does not have obedience as its express object and is therefore not productive of another obligation of obedience, superiors, as the head of the institute or of its parts, possess at least the same authority that they have over a novice and, if the Holy See decides that a different commitment is on the same juridical level as temporary vows, they possess the same authority as over a professed but without the added title to exact obedi-ence from the vow (c. 501, § 1; 502). Ganons whose application is obscure. The applica-tion of the following canons to those in a different temporary commitment should also be decided by the Holy See: responsibility for debts, 536, §§ 2-3; canonical examination, 552; dowry, 547-51; making of cession and disposition regarding personal patrimony and a civilly valid will, 569; retreat before first profession, 571, § 3; profession of a novice in danger of death. Requisites for a valid profession, exclusive of recep-tion, the necessity of three years of temporary vows, and understanding the derogations regarding a valid novice-ship in the Instruction, 572; age for profession, 573; deliberative vote for first profession, 575, § 2; written declaration of profession, 576, § 2; no intervals between renewals or perpetual profession, 577, § 1; 575, § 1; ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 895 ~. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 896 enjoyment of the same indulgences, privileges, spiritual favors, and suffrages, obligation of observing rules and constitutions, active and passive voice and computation of time for obtaining either, 578; illiceity and invalidity of acts contrary to the vows, 579. Acquisition of property by a professed of simple vows, change of cession and disposition, 580; renuncia-tion of personal patrimony, 581; 583, 1°; change of will, 583; 2°. Common obligations of clerics in canons 124-42, 592; obligation of common life, 594; obligation of wear-ing habit, 596; cloister, 597 ft.; religious duties, 595; right of exempt correspondence, 611; enjoyment of privileges of first order by nuns, 613, § 2; enjoyment of clerical privileges of canons 119-23, 614. Transfer to another religious institute or monastery, 632-5; 544, § 5; right of professed of temporary vows to leave at the end of a temporary profession, 637; ex-claustration, 638-9; effects of secularization, 640-3; compensation may not be sought for services given to the institute, 643, § 1; charitable subsidy, 643, § 2; laws on fugitives, 644, § 3; 645; 2386; automatic dismissal, 646; dismissal of a professed of temporary vows, 647-8; provisional return to secular life, 653. Six professed constitute a formal house, 488, 5°; precedence from first profession breaking a tie in elec-tions, 101, § 1, 1°; first profession as date of computing eligibility for office, 504; 559, §§ 1-2; prohibition of being members of third orders secular, 704; prohibi-tion of being a sponsor in baptism and confirmation, 766, 4°; 796, 3°; special jurisdiction necegsary for the confessions of religious women, 876; funerals of religious, 1221; 1124, 2°; permission for writings, 1386, § 1; punish-able for violations of common life, 2389. Obligation o[ observing the evangelical counsels. If the Holy See decides that a different temporary com-mitment is on the same juridical level as the profession of temporary vows, the evangelical counsels must be observed at least with the same obligation as the con-stitutions, no matter what be the object of the different temporary commitment because (1) not only does num-ber 36 impose after the new commitment "the obliga-tion of observing the Rule, constitutions and other regulations of the institute" and therefore a fortiori also the obligation of observing the evangelical coun-sels as more essential and important for a state of complete Christian perfection but also and more pro-foundly because (2) the observance of the evangelical counsels is necessary from the nature of a state of per-fection, as can be seen from the following direct and clear statements of only three Popes and Vatican II: "The religious orders, as everyone knows, have their origin and raison d'etre in those sublime evangelical counsels, of which our divine Redeemer spoke, for the course of all time, to those who desire to attain Christian perfection" (Leo XIII, December 23, 1900). "When the only-begotten Son of God came into the world to re-deem the human race, he gave the precepts of spiritual life by which all men were to be directed to their appointed end; in addition, he taught that all those who wished to follow more closely in His footsteps should embrace and follow the evangelical counsels" (Pius XI, March 19, 1924). "It is true that by the apostolic constitution Provida Mater Ecclesia we declared that the form of life, which is followed by secular institutes, is also to be accepted as a state of perfection publicly recognized, because the members are bound in some way to the observance of the evangelical counsels" (Pius XII, July 13, 1952).3 Vatican II affirmed: "Thus, although the religious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs in-separably to her life and holiness." 4 Moral obligation of a new temporary commitment. It might seem that a general chapter could also completely determine this (see n. 36), but number 34 gives a promise to the institute as an example of such a com-mitment. We are to presume words in such a document are being used in their proper sense, and in such a sense a promise produces a moral obligation. In a merely private promise to God or man, the one making the promise can oblige himself only to a light obliga-tion in light matter but in serious matter he can assume either a light or a grave obligation. May a general chapter, therefore, define the moral obligation of the new temporary commitment, for example, a promise to the institute, as only light? It could do so if it is decided by the Holy See that such a commitment is not on the same juridical level as temporary vows. Could it do so if the level is the same? Such a definition is not excluded by the nature of a commitment or promise purely in itself nor by the explicit wording of the Instruction. The light obligation can also be urged from the reason for permitting a different commitment, that is, the immaturity of a candidate. It would not 8Courtois, The States of Perfection, Dublin: 1961, M. H. Gill and Son, nn. 33, 130, 403, 474; see also Schaefer, De religiosis, n. 125; Beste, op.cit., 328; Padri Claretdani, II diritto dei religiosi, n. 3; Fanfani, II diritto delle religiose, n. 2; Bastien, Directoire canonique, nn. 9, 14; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in Church Law, nn. 4-5; Guti~rrez, ibid., 63-4, 67. ' Abbott-Gallagher, The Document~ of Vatican II, 75. 4" 4" 4" Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 89~ ]. F. Gallen, $.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS seem very practical to enact that such a candidate does not have to take the added serious obligation of a re-ligious vow if he must assume the added serious obli-gation of another form of commitment. On the opposite side it can be well maintained from the nature of the matter that it would be incongruous for the funda-mental obligations of a permanent state of life to be only light. Above all there is a reply given by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, May 19, 1949, in an entirely parallel case and in general language to the effect that the bonds assumed by the members of secular insti-tutes cannot be light in their general nature.~ The pur-pose and nature of secular institutes are given as the reason for this doctrine. A secular institute is an apos-tolic state of complete Christian perfection, and the reasoning of the Sacred Congregation appears to me to apply, at least equally, if not afortiori, to religious in-stitutes. In effect this would mean, in the promise we have advocated to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience, the same light or serious obliga-tion that is had in the religious vows. The document reads: 1. The obligations which are contracted by members in the strict sense (Art. III, §§ £ and 3) for the full pursuit of the juridical state of perfection in secular institutes (Art. III, § 2), if they are to correspond to the purpose and nature of the institute, cannot be light in their general nature and under every respect (ex genere suo atque ex omni parte). 2. On the other hand, the bonds on which this state of perfection rests, are considered so to oblige in conscience that the obligations thus produced must be called grave in their general nature (ex genere suo). 3. In individual cases, an obligation must be considered grave only when its matter must be considered as certainly grave according to the constitutions and the common teaching regarding equal or similar bonds. Moreov,er, according to the well-known rule of law (Reg. 30 in VI°), 'In obscure matters, one is obliged to Iollow only the least obligation," it cannot be affirmed in a doubtful case that an obligation is grave or more grave, for example, on the ground that an obligation arises from or is reinforced by the formal virtue of religion. 4. Just what is the nature of the bonds assumed in individual institutes and what is the precise mode of obligation---e.g., in addition to justice and fidelity, is there also and, if so, to what degree, an obligation from the virtue of religion--must be learned from the constitutions, which should give an accurate presentation of the matter, and from the formula of consecra-tion or incorporation in which the bonds are expressed. 5. Even when it is certain that there is a formal obligation arising from the virtue of religion, since there is question of vows or bonds which, although they are not fully private, nevertheless, in law, cannot be called public in the strict and specific sense and do not effect a public consecration of the' "Bouscaren-O'Connor, Canon Law Digest /or Religious, 167-8; see also Commentarium pro religiosis, 28 (1949): Larraona, 199-200; Fuertes, 292-8. person, the malice of sacrilege must not be attributed to their violation. Duration oI probation after the noviceship. The gen-eral chapter is to determine this but it is to be no less than three nor longer than nine years (n. 37). I find it difficult to see why a period longer than five years should be generally prescribed (n. 6). The total possible probationary period, that is, 2 years of postulancy, 2 of noviceship, and 9 of temporary commitment, can thus be 13 years. This would ordinarily mean perpetual profes-sion at the youngest only at the age of 30 or 31 years. Would we advise marriage only at 30 or 317 The gen-eral chapter may permit a prolongation in individual cases of a prescribed time, e.g., five years, up to the full nine years or may limit the power of prolonging, e.g., to only one year (n. 37). Precise length of dil~erent commitment. This may be made in the one act for the full length of the interval before perpetual profession, for example, five years; or for a briefer period, for example, three years, to be re-newed for two years on its expiration or to be followed by temporary vows (n. 34). The provision of canon 577, § 2, of permitting a renewal of temporary vows to be an-ticipated but not by more than a month may be also applied to the renewal of a different form of temporary commitment. Such an anticipation is permissible £rom the nature of a commitment and is not excluded by the Instruction. Must also a di~erent temporary commitment be ac-companied by the intention of renewing and of admit-ting to a renewal on its expiration? If the decision of the Holy See is that the juridical level of temporary vows and other temporary commitments is the same, the answer is in the affirmative. The explanation of the necessity of this intention in temporary vows has been the following. The religious life has ever and now de-mands stability or permanence. From its concept it is a state of life in the same way as the clerical or married state. A state of life is something that contains the note of stability or permanence. The exact permanence re-quired is defined by the Church as follows: solemn vows or simple perpetual vows are sufficient but not neces-sary; the minimum requisite is simple temporary vows. Therefore, an institute in which all the members make only annual professions of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence fulfills this requisite. The Church further requires that temporary vows be renewed on their expiration (c. 488, 1°). This implies an intention on the part of both the religious making temporary profession and the superior admitting to this profession that, iI no obstacle ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 899 ]. F. Gallery, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 900 occurs in the meantime, the vows will be renewed on their expiration. It is evident that the same necessity of this intention and its explanation apply to a different temporary commitment since the necessity of the inten-tion is required not from vows as such but from the fact that the religious state is 'a state of life and demands stability.6 Lastly, such an intention is required in secular institutes, in which the bond can be vow, oath, consecra-tion, or promise: "The bond by which the secular insti-tute and its members in the strict sense are to be united must be: 1o Stable, according to the constitutions, either perpetual or temporary but to be renewed at its expira-tion (c. 488, 1°) . ,, 7 ConIusion on temporary vows. Tkis is the appropriate place to mention the extensive confusion that has existed on temporary vows in this whole matter of a different commitment. Many talked as if a temporary vow were a most unusual and even a contradictory thing. Evidently they did not know that temporary vows were mentioned in canon law (c. 131.1) as also in practically any manual of moral theology and in canonical works that included the treatment of the vows. It was also frequently stated that the intention of renewing and of admitting to renewal on their expiration was a contra-diction of the temporary duration of such vows. This again was ignorance. The intention was not and could not have been absolute, which would have been clearly contrary to the probationary nature of the period of temporary vows. It was a conditional intention to renew the vows i[ no obstacle intervened in the meantime, S and this obstacle, if not always, would practically always have been the discovery by the institute or the subject that he or she had no vocation. There was almost an equal number of statements that a temporary profession was invalid if at the time a religious had the intention of not renewing or a superior of not admitting to a renewal on the expiration of a temporary profession. Canon 572 does not list such an intention among the requisites for a valid religious profession. Canon 488, 1°, does not append an invalidating clause to the necessity of this intention as required by canon 11. A requirement for liceity only will also sufficiently fulfill the required stability. An invalidating law according to canon 15 does not exist in a doubt of law, and there is certainly a doubt o See Larraona, op. cit., 2 (1921), 137, 209; 28 (1949), 205; Schaefer, op.ciL, n. 128; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem iuris canonici, I, 387; Padri Clarettiani, op.cit., nn. 3, 6; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome iuris canonici, I, n. 580; Goyeneche, op.cit., 9-10; De Carlo, Jus religiosorum, n. 2. ~ Provida Mater Ecclesia, Bouscaren-O'Connor, op.cit., 151. aSee Larraona, op.cit.o 2 (1921), 209 and note 81; 28 (1949)~ 205; Guti~rrez, ibid., 90. of law in the present caseP There was also a great deal of talk merely about promises, as if a vow were not a promise. Nor was there too much knowledge of sanctity of life and of the relation of the evangelical counsels and of vows to this sanctity. Sacred orders may not be conferred belore perpetual profession (n. 37; c. 964, 4°). For a just reason a higher superior may permit that a first profession be made outside the novitiate house (n. 20). The Instruction does not mention the commitment presumably because it is held that the prescription on place of canon 574, §1 applies only to vows. Readmission of one who legitimately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or a[ter being [reed from either. He may be readmitted by the superior general with the consent of his council, who is not obliged to prescribe another noviceship, nor an-other postulancy (c. 640, § 2), but is obliged to enjoin a previous period of probation and also a period of tem-porary vows or other commitment not less than a year nor less than the time that remained to be spent in this temporary probation before perpetual profession when the subject left. The superior general may prescribe a longer period of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 38). Immediate preparation for perpetual proIession and similar periods during tbmporary vows or other commit-ment. It is desirable that perpetual profession should be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation something in the manner of a second noviceship. The duration and other aspects are to be determined by the general chapter (nn. 9, 35). It is also desirable that periods of withdrawing to prayer, meditation, and study be established during the time of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 25). Section IlL Application of the special norms. The par-ticular provisions axe called norms because they have been enacted for experimentation (VII). They are in effect from January 6, 1969 (VII). The norms and direc-tives of the Instruction appertain only to religious in-stitutes; other institutes of common life may but are not obliged to follow them (n. 3). Common law (canon law, laws enacted after the Code of Canon Law, laws of Vatican II, and postconciliar laws) remains in effect un-less derogated by this Instruction (I). The faculties granted by this Instruction may in no way be delegated g See Schaefer, op.cit., n. 128; Jone, op.cit., 387; Guti~rrez, ibid., note 65; Vermeersch, Periodica, 31 (1932), 122 ft.; Goyeneche, Corn. mentarium tyro religiosis, 16 (1935), 315-6; Vidal, De religiosis, n. 9, holds for invalidity. 4- 4- ÷ VOLUME 901 ~. F. Gallen, $.]. 902 to another (II), but they may be used by those who legiti-mately take the place of the superior general when there is no superior general or he is legitimately prevented from acting (IV). The same principle is true of the vicars of other higher superiors since they are actually exercising the office of the higher superior when accord-ing to the constitutions they take the place of a higher superior, such as a provincial, in the vacancy of the office, in his absence, or when he is otherwise impeded from fulfilling the duties of his office. There is nothing of such importance in the faculties granted in the Instruc-tion to higher superiors that would merit the exclusion of vicars from the exercise of such faculties. An abbot at the head of a monastic congregation is also to be understood under the name of superior general in this Instruction (III). In the case of nuns dedicated exclu-sively to the contemplative life, special norms shall be inserted into the constitutions and submitted for ap-proval, but the norms in numbers 22, 26-7 may be ap-plied to them (V). I[ the special general chapter has already been held, the superior general and his council acting collegially,x° after a careful study of all circumstances, are to decide whether a general chapter should be convoked to deliber-ate on the faculties granted to it or whether it would be preferable to await the next general chapter (VI). If they decide against the above convocation but also that the use of the faculties granted to the general chapter is urgent for the good of the institute, they, again acting collegially, have the power of putting all or some of the same faculties in use until the next gen-eral chapter provided they have previously consulted all other higher superiors and their councils and have ob-tained their two-thirds affirmative vote. These other higher superiors should have it at heart to consult previ-ously the professed of perpetual vows. In institutes with no provinces, the superior general must consult the l~rofessed of perpetual vows and obtain the affirmative vote of two-thirds OgI). The following appertain to the general chapter: with a two-thirds vote: to introduce periods of formative ac-tivity in the noviceship (n. 23) and a different tempo-rary commitment (n. 34); with the vote prescribed by the constitutions: to make determinations for the pos-tulancy (n. 12); to decide on the permissible contacts of the novices (n. 28); to permit or command studies during the noviceship (n. 29); to determine the dress of the novices and other candidates (n. 33); to determine the duration of the probation between the noviceship See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 131-2. and perpetual profession and other aspects of the same probation (nn. 35-6-7); and experimentally to enact other matters that imply a change in the constitutions, for example, in numbers 16, 22, and 27. The following appertain to the superior general: with the consent of his council: the institution of a novitiate (n. 16) and of many novitiates in the same province, having consulted the interested provincial (n. 17); the making of the noviceship in a house that is not a noviti-ate house (n. 19); the readmission of one who legiti-mately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or after being freed from either (n. 38); alone: to permit the group of novices to reside for a time in another house designated by him (n. 16); to per-mit a small group of novices to make their noviceship in a house more suitable for community life (n. 18); with the council acting collegially: to decide on the calling of a general chapter to implement the Instruction or to permit, without a general chapter, the use of the facul-ties granted in the Instruction, after consulting all other higher superiors and their councils and having obtained the affirmative vote of two-thirds of them or of the pro-fessed of perpetual vows when the institute does not have provinces (VI). The following appertain to higher superiors: alone: to permit first profession outside the novitiate house (n: 20); to permit that first profession be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26); after consulting the master of novices: to decide on a supplying of absence of a novice of less than three months (n. 22); and it is rec-ommended that higher superiors below the superior general previously consult the professed of perpetual vows on the use of faculties of the Instruction without having a general chapter (VI). Spiritual principles of the Instruction. In the intro-duction to the Instruction, the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes stated that the reason Vatican II gave no small measure of attention to reli-gious was that the Church might have a greater abun-dance of spiritual strength and be better prepared to proclaim the message of salvation to the men of our age; quoted Lumen gentium, numbers 44-5, to the effect that the state of the evangelical counsels appertains to the sanctity of the Church and that the practice of these counsels is uniquely effective for the perfection of the love of God and of the neighbor; spoke of the duty of religious institutes to renew their spiritual, evangelical, and apostolic lives; recalled that no loss was to be per-mitted in the basic values of the religious life; and de-clared the necessity of defining again the principal as-pects of this life. Formation VO'LUME 28, 1969 9O3 I. F. Ga//en,~$.l. REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OU$ 90; In the first section, which treats of principles and criteria, the Sacred Congregation reaffirmed that pro-fession of the evangelical counsels is a total consecration of one's person to God; that both from the teaching of the Church and the nature of this consecration the vow of obedience appertains to the essence of religious pro-fession; that by this consecration the religious exercises the perfection of apostolic charity, even though the apostolate is not the primary purpose of religious pro-fession; and that it may not be said that the nature of religious profession is to be changed or its proper de-mands lessened. The Sacred Congregation stated that the noviceship retains its irreplaceable role in formation; that novices are to be taught the cohesive unity that should link contemplation and apostolic activity; and that this unity is one of the fundamental and primary values of apostolic institutes. The achievement of this unity requires a~proper un-derstanding of the realities of the supernatural life and of the paths leading to a deepening of union with God in the unity of the one supernatural love for God and for man, finding expression at times in the solitude of inti-mate communing with the Lord and at others in the generous giving of self to apostolic activity. Young reli-gious must be taught that this unity, so eagerly sought and toward which all life tends in order to find its full development, cannot be attained on the level of activity alone, or even be psychologically experienced, for it resides in that divine love which is the bond of perfec-tion and which surpasses all understanding. The attainment of this unity, which cannot be achieved without long exercise of self-denial or without persevering efforts toward purity of intention in action, demands in those institutes faithful compliance with the law inherent in the spiritual life itself, which con-sists in arranging a proper balance of periods set aside for solitude with God and others devoted to various activities and to the human contacts which these in-volve (n. 5). The Sacred Congregation maintained that suitable maturity was required that the religious state be a means of perfection and not a burden too heavy to carry, as also the desirability that the perpetual con-secration to God of perpetual vows be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation spent in recol-lection and prayer that could be like a second novice-ship. The second section of the Instruction is on special or particular norms and contains the following spiritual ideas and principles. The novices are to develop that union with Christ which is to be the source of all their apostolic activity; conformably to the teaching of our Lord in the gospel, the formation of the noviceship con-sists especially in initiating the novices gradually into detachment from everything not connected with the kingdom of God; that they learn to practice humility, obedience, poverty, to be instant in prayer, to maintain union with God, along with a soul receptive to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, and to be mutually and spiritually helpful to one another in a sincere and un-feigned charity; they are to study and meditate on Holy Scripture; to be formed in the spiritual doctrine and practice required for the development of a supernatural life, union with God, and the understanding of the re-ligious state; they are to be initiated into the liturgical life and the spiritual discipline proper to their own in-stitute; they are to be given the occasions for striving to preserve faithful union with God in the active life; for the novices there is to be a balancing of periods of ac-tivity and of those given to recollection in prayer, medi-tation, and study to stimulate them to remain faithful to it throughout life, and a similar balancing is desirable during the years of formation before perpetual profes-sion. The Instruction reaffirmed the principle of the spiritual life and of Perfectae caritatis, number 8, that apostolic activity must have its source in intimate union with Christ and that therefore all the members should seek God only and above all, and unite contemplation by which they adhere to Him in mind and heart with apostolic love, in which they are associated with the work of redemption and strive to spread the kingdom of God; that novices are likewise to be formed in purity of intention and love for God and man; to learn to use this world as if they did not use it; realize that devotion to God and man demands a humble control of self; culti-vate the necessary human and spiritual balancing of the times given to the apostolate and the service of men and of the properly prolonged periods, in solitude or in com-munity, dedicated to prayer and to the meditative read-ing of the Sacred Scriptures. By fidelity to this most necessary and important program in all such institutes, the novices will gradually develop a peaceful union with God, which comes from conformity to the will of God. They must learn to discern the divine inspirations in the duties of their state, especially those of justice and charity. A mutual confidence, docility, and openness are to be fostered between superiors, the master of novices, and the novices that the master may be able to direct the generosity of the novices to a complete gift of themselves to God and lead them gradually to discern in the mys-tery of Christ crucified the demands of true religious + + + Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 905 obedience, and in this manner inspire them to an active and responsible obedience. The Instruction affirms with sufficient emphasis that the religious s~ate is different from secular institutes and from the state of the laity. ~. F. Gall~, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER MARY PATRICIA NORTON A New Form Community oJ Religious Government The custom that has been traditionally followed in women's religious communities of focusing all authority, responsibility, and decision-making in one person at the local, regional, and generalate level has, we believe, been a custom that grew up as a result of historical circumstances. When some of the original women's re-ligious communities were founded, there was a com-paratively small number of the members that were well educated. There has, of course, always been a local, regional, and general council to assist and advise the superior; but in actual practice the superior has gen-erally led an overburdened existence, weighed down by the responsibility of major decisions. Since the founding of the early communities, the pic-ture has changed dramatically. The rank and file sisters are no longer uneducated followers. Vatican Council II has told us that the Holy Spirit breathes up ~rom below, that is, He speaks and points out the way through the person of each and every member of the community. In the summer of 1967, the 48 Maryknoll Sisters working in Korea, considering the problems of the past, the directions of the future, and the urgings of Vatican Council II (that "all members of the community have a share in the welfare of the whole community and a responsibility for it"--~om the Decree on Ap-propriate Renewal o[ Religious Life, n. 14), began to draw up a new plan for regional government. This plan was to provide for sharing more broadly the burdens of responsibility, participation of every member in the decision-making and planning of community affairs, and to foster in each member a mature spirit of initiative and involvement. The experiment is at present under way with three elected members now jointly sharing the responsibilities that had previously belonged to the regional superior. 4, 4, Siste~ Patricia Norton is missioned at the Maryknoll Hospital; P.O. Box 77; Pusan, Korea. VOLUME 28, 1969 907 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU$ (Note: The work of the Maryknoll Sisters in Korea is designated as a regional unit.) No one of these is superior to the others in authority or responsibility. Each one is responsible in the area that has been allotted to her: Personnel, Administration-finance, and Planning-research respectively. These three sisters are known as the Regional Team. Although each one has her area of responsibility, she does not bear this burden alone. Each of these team members has a corresponding committee of 4 regular members and one alternate member. Each committee meets once a month and the results of these meetings constitute the agenda for the meeting of the Regional Team (the three team leaders). The Regional Team also aims at meeting monthly as high priority has been placed on the value of close and frequent communications. It is felt that real participation of each and every mem-ber of the region is dependent on the thoroughness of these communications. In addition to the monthly meetings of both team and committees, good communications are fostered by availa-bility of the minutes of the Regional Team, of each of the three committees, and the publication of the agenda before each meeting. With the publishing of the agenda, each sister is invited to respond with her ideas, sugges-tions, objections, and so forth to any item on the agenda. This is one technique to insure participation by every individual. Furthermore, all those sisters who are neither mem-bers of the team nor of one of the committees become members of an interest area. The latter means that the sister has indicated her interest in one of the areas, follows the activities of that committee in par-ticular, and is ready at any time to fully participate. The Maryknoll Sisters are divided among six houses in Korea. In the event that one of these houses does not have a particular committee member, one of the in-terest area members acts as contact person for that house. Planning for this experiment began in early Fall of 1967. It was formally inaugurated at a regionwide work-shop in October of that year. Since that time it has undergone several evaluations resulting in both minor and major changes. What so far have been the advantages and disad-vantages in regard to this experiment? Some of the disadvantages: ---outsiders who have contacts with the Maryknoll Sisters do not understand it; --it is expensive (train travel and postage) and time consuming; ---it deprives the other sisters of that leisure they used to have while the superior did all the work. Some of the advantages: --it takes the heavy, burden from the shoulders of one person and spreads it" out over the shoulders of all; --it provides for the utilization of the ideas, inspira-tions, and talents of each person rather than just two or three; --it provides for decisions to be made at the level at which they are carried out; --it helps to uncover and develop leadership qualities in a wider spectrum O[ persons; ---it allows for a more truly Christian li[e [or each sister as a completely participating person, con-scious of her own role of responsibility for the success or failure of Maryknoll works in Korea; ---it cuts down dissatisfaction and provides a channel for rectifying any dissatis[actions that may occur. The comment was made by one observer: "It deprives the religious of that necessary sacrifice involved in obedience to a superior." Those who have been living ¯ this experiment would strongly differ. Obedience is not a vanished thing. It is merely the focus that has changed. Decisions are made through group-to-group or individ-ual- to-group dialogue and the individual remains open and ready to obey the results of this dialogue. It is now two years since the initial idea for this type of government was discussed. Since that time there have been many pros and cons, many wrinkles to be ironed out. It has been said by informed sources that such an arrangement Without ultimate responsibility resting in one person can never be a success. The Maryknoll Sisters are willing to concede that this may be true. But they are not willing to concede without an earnest trial. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 9O9 WILLIAM A. HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Origins and Development oJ Religious Orders William A. Hin-nebusch, O.P., teaches ecclesiastical history at the Do-minican House of Studies; 487 Michi-gan Avenue, Waahington, D.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 910 An# attentive study of the origins and history of reli-gious orders reveals that there are two primary currents in religious life--contemplative and apostolic. Vatican II gave clear expression to this fact when it called on the members of every community to "combine contem-plation with apostolic love." It went on to say: "By the former they adhere to God in mind and heart; by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the Kingdom of God" (PC, 5). The orders1 founded before the 16th century, with the possible exception of the military orders, recognized clearly the contemplative element in their lives. Many of them, however, gave minimum recognition to the apos-tolic element, if we use the word "apostolic" in its pres-ent- day meaning, but not if we understand it as they did. In their thinking, the religious life was the Apos-tolic life. It reproduced and perpetuated the way of living learned by the Apostles from Christ and taught by them to the primitive Church of Jerusalem. Since it was lived by the "Twelve," the Apostolic life included preaching and the other works of the ministry. The pas-sage describing the choice of the seven deacons in the Acts of the Apostles clearly delineates the double ele-ment in the Apostolic life and underlines the contem-plative spirit of the Apostles. The deacons were to wait on tables; the Apostles were to be free to devote them-selves "to prayer and the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:~4~). ¯ This is the text of an address given to the annual meeting of United States major superiors of men religious held in June, 1968, at Mundelein, Illinois. x I use the words, "order," "monasticism," and their derivatives in a wide sense to include all forms of the religious life. In its strict sense "monasticism" applies only to the monks and does not extend to the friars and the clerks regular. There were, however, exceptions to the general rule that monks did not engage in the ministry. An Eastern current of monasticism, influenced by John Chrysostom, viewed missionary work as a legitimate activity of the monk; and, as we shall see, many Western monks shared this conviction. Nevertheless, missionary activity did not become an integral part of monasticism. Even after most monks became priests, they considered their vocation to lie within the monastery where they could contemplate and dedicate themselves to the service of God. Since the clergy did not embrace the religious life, with the ex-ception of those of Eusebius of Vercelli and Augustine of Hippo, the ministerial element remained generally absent from the religious life until the development of the canons regular. In itself the life of the monks was exclusively contemplative. "Tradition assigns no other end to the life of a monk than to 'seek God' or 'to live for God alone,' an ideal that can be attained only by life of penance and .prayer. The first and fundamental manifestation of such a vocation is a real separation from the world." Yet in the thinking of the monks and of the friars, who integrated apostolic activity into the religious life, their prayer, contemplation, and example were mighty forces working for the upbuilding of the Body of Christ. Foundation o[ Monasticism Though other Scriptural elements contributed to the origin of monasticism, the concept of the Apostolic life was the decisive force. This truth has been demon-strated by historians who have been studying this point for over half a century; it has recently been dis-cussed scripturally by Heinz Schiirmann, professor of New Testament exegesis at Erfurt. The historians show how the life of the Apostles and the primitive Christians influenced the origins and growth of monasticism; Schiirmann makes clear that the constitutive elements of the religious life were taught to and demanded of the Apostles by Christ. Religious life is rooted in the key Biblical texts that record the calling and formation of the Apostles. These passages determine the character of the Apostolic office and the relationship of the Apostles to Jesus. They are to be with Him, listen to Him, and follow Him. His call is rigorous and imperious. He demands commitment without reserve. Negatively, this requires a complete break with one's previous life: family, wife, home, and oc-cupation; positively, it establishes the Apostles in a state of total availability. Abandoning their possessions, their means of livelihood and, like the lily and raven, trusting completely in divine providence, they follow Christ, + ÷ ÷ Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 9]] W. A. Hinnebusch, 0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 912 putting themselves in a student-teacher, servant-master relationship to Him. All .the features of their new life with Him are already conveyed in brief in Mark's ac-count of their call: And going up a mountain, he called to him men of his own choosing, and they came to him. And he appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them forth to preach (3:13-5). In this text, too, we find the first s~atement of the contemplative and apostolic elements that reappear in the religious life. They are "to be with him." Here is the contemplative element. They are "with him," devoting themselves to the "one thing necessary"--listening to His word. Yet in hearing and learning .they are made ready so "that he might send them forth to preach." As Schiirmann summarizes it: First they hear and learn, then they teach and act: "Preaching isonly one part of their life and its follows from the other." The Apostles enter irrevocably into a community of life with Jesus. They share His life and destiny: eat with Him, walk the dusty roads with Him, serve the people with Him, undergo His trials, conflicts, persecu-tions. They must be ready to hate and even to lose their lives for His sake. He wants total obedience, one based on their "faith in Him who calls and proposes the word of God in an entirely unique fashion. Their following of Christ becomes understandable only as a permanent state of profession of faith., fit] opens up a new pos-sibility of existence, a new manner of being-in-the-world, a new 'state' of life." Though the Apostles take no vows, their life is that of the three counsels. Christ imposes no greater moral de-mands on them than on all the other believers, but they alone live this close community life with Him. Not all who declare for Christ are chosen by Him to follow Him in this intimate, permanent way. Obviously Mary, Martha, and Lazarus do not. Others asked to be ad-mitted into the group of disciples but were not accepted. Mark (5:18-19) describes one case: As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been afflicted by the devil began to entreat him that he might re-main with him. And he did not allow him, but said to him, "Go home to thy relatives, and tell them all that the Lord has done for thee, and how he has had mercy on thee." (See also Mt 11:28, Mk 3:35, Lk 12:8-9, 10:38-42, 9:61-2.) Being with Christ constantly, hearing His word, com-pletely obedient to His wishes, separated from family, home, and occupation, the Apostles enter a new form of existence that signifies. The prime purpose of their spe-cialized following is to declare themselves openly for Him, so that all might come to believe in Him. In a strikingly visible way their intimate following pro-claims to the Jewish world that the one thing necessary is to hear the word of Christ and to keep it. Their visi-ble, stable following becomes a sign to the world. Only after they have made this permanent commitment are they sent out to preach and to act. At every step in monastic history, whether in its ori-gins, renewals, or creation of new forms, the Apostolic life taught by Christ to the Twelve, and by them to the primitive Christian community of Jerusalem, was the leading and most powerful influence. The Gospel texts and those in the Acts of the Apostles that describe the primitive community were decisive in creating the con-cept of monasticism and in fashioning its life and usages. In the Jerusalem community we find fraternal unanim-ity, common ownership of possessions, fidelity to the teachings of Christ, common public prayer, intense pri-vate prayer. The following passages embody all these features: Now the multitude of the believers were of one heart and soul, and not one of them said anything he possessed was his own, but they had all things in common (Acts 4:32). And they continued steadfastly in the teaching of the apostles, and in the communion of the breaking of bread and in the prayers. And all who believed were together and held all things in common. And continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread in. their houses, they took their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and being in favor with all people (Acts 2:42-7; see also 1:14, 3:1, 6:4,34; Mt 10:gff). The ministry of the word, evangelical preaching of salvation, was c~irried out by the Apostles (Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4), a mission that entailed indefatigable journey-ing (Mt 10:7if; Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4). Only the pre-dominately lay character of early monasticism delayed the full realization of the ministerial mendicant orders. For centuries monks examined and lovingly scruti-nized the texts. The power that they exercised over monastic founders is illustrated by the passage where Athanasius describes the origin of Antony's vocation in his Life of Antony: As he was walking along on his way to Church, he col-lected his thoughts and reflected how the Apostles left every-thing and followed the Savior; also how the people in Acts sold what they had and laid it at the feet of the Apostles for distribution among the needy; and what great hope is laid up in Heaven for such as these. With these thoughts in his mind he entered the church. And it so happened that the Gospel was being read at that moment and he heard the passage in which the Lord says to the rich man: "If thou wilt be perfect, ¯ go sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor; and come, follow me and thou shalt have treasures in heaven," 4- 4- Religious Orders VOLUME 28~ 1969 W. A. Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As though God had been speaking directly to him, An-tony left the church, sold what he had, gave it to the poor, and went into the desert. During subsequent centuries the Scriptures lost none of their influence over monasticism. The Apostolic texts led to much more than the abandonment of riches and fleeing the world; they provided a complete program of life in community. Explaining the origins of monasti-cism about 1122 A.D., Abbot William of Saint-Thierry shows how the meditation of hundreds of years had sys-tematized the Scriptural influence: We come to this spiritual sbciety of which the Apostle Paul spoke to the Philippians (2:1-5; 3:17) in praise of the regular discipline and of the sublime joy of brothers living together in unanimity. To do justice to this discipline it is necessary to return to its beginning in the time of the Apostles, since it was the Apostles themselves who instituted it as their own way of life, according to the teaching of the Lord. Unless it was the grace of the Holy Spirit which gave them power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common, and all would be continually in the temple in a spirit of harmony. Animated by a great !ove for this form of life instituted by the Apostles, certain men wished no longer to have any other house or any other lodging than the hbuse of God, the house of prayer. All that they did they did according to a common program, under a common rule. In the name of the Lord they lived together, possessing nothing of their own, not even their bodily strength, nor were they even masters of their own will. They lay down to sleep at the same time, they rose up together, they prayed, they sang Psalms, they studied together. They showed the fixed and changeless will of being obedient to their superiors and of being entirely submissive to them. They kept their needs to a minimum and lived with very little; they had poor clothes, a mean diet, and limited everything according to a very precise rule. Influence o[ Cassian Soon after Antony went into the desert, the influence of the Scriptures on monastic origins was enhanced by a misconception of Eusebius and Jerome, who mistakenly believed that the Apostolic life of the primitive Jerusa-lem community was followed in Alexandria, Rome, and other centers. Writing a century later, Cassian developed this misconception and found in it th~ explanation of the rise of monasticism: The conversion of the Gentiles forced an abandonment of the Apostolic way by the ma-jority of Christians, even by the clergy. More zealous souls refused to give it up and founded communities to perpetuate it. This theory was very fruitful in its effects when it was coupled with the example of Antony and Pachomius, the founder of the cenobitic life, who were inspired by the Scriptures alone. This fusion constituted a powerful op- erative force in the development of monasticism for many centuries. Scarcely any monastic 'author was read so continuously as Cassian. As late as the thirteenth cen-tury, St. Dominic was reading his Conferences. Con-stantly read and reread, Cassian's books [ashioned the medieval--and our ownnmonastic life. The Holy Spirit at Work in the Church The truth underlying Cassian's error is the almost simultaneous appearance of the religious life everywhere that the Church took root. The origin of the monastic life was a spontaneous manifestation of the Holy Spirit impelling Christians to live the life of the counsels taught by Jesus. Antony was merely the first to emerge, thanks to Athanasius, from the anonymity that conceals the virgins, celibates, and ascetics who preceded him. The impetus of the Spirit is seen particularly in the early acceptance of the virginal life by both men and women as a prime means of following the Master. From the end of the first century there are references to ascetics who lived continently "in honor of the flesh of Christ." After the third century virgins were looked upon as "the most illustrious portion of the flock of Christ" and were considered the spouses of Christ. Perfect continence, to-gether with voluntary poverty and austerity of life, was a constitutive element of the ascetical life that began to develop in the second century. Though these ascetics lived in their homes, sometimes holy women, widows, and virgins formed small communities that were marked by considerable personal freedom. The general reverence of the Church for chastity when Antony became a hermit about 300 A.D. accounts in large measure for the immediate wide diffusion of the eremitic and cenobitic forms of monasticism throughout the Christian world. The dynamic power of the Holy Spirit has been con-stantly operative during the history of the religious life. Here again there is a link with the early community of Jerusalem. These Christians, as we find their record in Acts, were very conscious of the action of the Spirit in their lives and apostolic works. Theirs was a life lived in the ~lan of the Spirit, as Vicaire remarks. ImmediateIy after describing the primitive community, the Acts of the Apostles goes on to say: "And great grace was upon them all" (4:33). This grace made itself visible even by miracles: "And many wonders and signs were done through the apostles" (2:43). When William of Saint-Thierry, whom I quoted a few pages back, described monastic origins, he manifested the awareness the monks had that the charismatic power of the Spirit was at work among them. In William's think-ing it was the "grace of the Holy Spirit which gave [the ÷ ÷ 4. Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 W. A o Hinnebusch~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Apostles] power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common . '~ Cen-turies before, Gregory the Great, writing his Dialogues within fifty years of the death of Benedict, described the great patriarch of Western monasticism as the ideal "man of God," the spiritual father who was entirely under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The attention paid to the miracles worked by the founders and great figtires of monastic history is not merely a thoughtless emphasis on the secondary but was motivated by. the belief that the true monk, living in community, possesses an extraordinary grace for radiat-ing sanctity and contributing to the upbuilding of the B6dy of Christ. He can even receive from the Spirit the power of working miracles. The present-day interest in the charismatic character of the religious life and the charismatic founders is a legitimate, more explicit, recognition of the power of the Spirit working through all the years of monastic history. His role in the religious life deserves more attention and should awaken in us a great hope in the future of the religious life. Antony the Hermit Monasticism entered the pages of history close to the year 300 A.D. when Antony, the great hermit, gave away his possessions and retired to the Egyptian desert. The holiness and ordered discipline of his life, characterized by solitary contemplation and a severe but lofty and well-balanced asceticism soon brought other hermits to him for direction. Great colonies of solitaries arose under Antony's direction, especially at Pispir, where he lived, and at Nitria and Scete. These disciples lived alone like their master. Antony found so many imitators because of his moral greatness at a time of growing wickedness in the contemporary world. When Constantine ended the per-secutions and began to favor Christianity, the consequent lowering of the moral level of Christian life stimulated the development of a powerful ascetical movement, in-spired by the Gospels, on the ~ringes of the populated world. Antony became the model of the movement, especially after the appearance of his Life, written by Athanasius in 357 A.D., a year after Antony died. Gre-gory of Nazianzen called it "a rule of monastic life in the form of a narrative." Athanasius, who had known Antony personally and had seen him often, considered "the life of Antony an ideal pattern of the ascetical life." He intended to hold up Antony as the exemplar of the consecrated life and induce his readers to imitate what they saw. The work enjoyed a~tonishing success and was shortly translated into various languages. Antony, earnestly desiring to die the death of a martyr, went to Alexandria in 311 A.D., when the persecution of Maximin Daja broke out, to minister to the confessors in the mines and prisons, not thinking it justified to turn himself over to the authorities. When his hopes were dis-appointed, Antony returned to his desert cell where "he was a daily martyr to his conscience, ever fighting the battles of the faith. For he practiced a zealous and more intense ascetic life." With this short passage Athanasius enriched monasticism at its very birth with a positive view of asceticism and the renunciations involved in the life of the counsels. Antony's life in the desert was a substitute martyrdom and the monk the successor to the . martyr, a concept that remains alive to this day. Pachomius the Cenobite The weakness of the ei:emitical life lay in the minimal opportunity for practicing charity. Pachomius remedied this defect when he formed a genuine fellowship based on the communal charity inherent in Christianity. He composed the first monastic Rule, in it establishing the economic and spiritual bases for the common life and providing for community government. A younger con-temporary of Antony, Pachomius first served an appren-ticeship under the hermit Palaemon. Then about the year 320 A.D. he established a monastery at Tabennisi on the right bank of the Nile. Other monasteries soon followed, so that when he died, nine for men and two for women were under his guidance. These foundations were large settlements of monks who were organized into smaller groups according to the kind of agricultural work they did or the crafts they practiced. They lived a disciplined life, practiced individual poverty and de-tachment in essential matters, supported themselves by remunerative work, gathered for prayers morning and evening, and observed the three counsels, though they took no vows. Numerous biographies testify to the esteem in which Pachomius was held and the extent of his in- ~uence. Basil the Great The eremitical and cenobitic types of monasticism spread quickly both in East and West. Basil the Great, who benefited from the experience of the previous half century bf monastic experience, became the lawgiver of Eastern monasticism when he wrote his Longer R

Issue 24.4 of the Review for Religious, 1965. ; JEAN GALOT,~ S.J, Why Religious .Life?. A Contemporary Question Why does the religious life exist in the Church today?* A number of religious, both men and women, are asking themselves this question. Promotion of the Christian laity has ilIuminated the saintly role .that the layman is to play within the Church and has called attention to the contribution he is to make in the consecration of the universe. But ~f sainthood is the normal goal of the layman, why bother to seek holiness, in the religious life? Christians are gradually .coming to understand dearly.that the layman' is to pursue perfection' in his own. way. Consequently, 'it is becoming less clear why perfection is to be sought in the convent or the cloister. More particularly, the development of conjugal spirtuality has revealed the value and nobi!it~i of Chris-tian marriage~the riches of the sacrament that elevates £amily life to a supernatural level. Hence souls who thirst for God can. seek the divine presence in married life. Is there any reason, then, to renounce marriage tO adhere to the Lord in the religious life? Furthermore, apostolic services which have been the traditional works of rdligious are being efficiently pro-vided by laymen. Teaching arid nursing, social service ahd home care, these are apostolates which laymen are performing with remarkable competence. The apparent equality in terms of service, whether rendered by laymen or religious, gives rise to the question: Why emer religious life with a view to an apostolate which can be accomplished as well in the laystate? Moreover, the lay apostolate may appear superior. He who is directly engaged in the world is more capable of penetrating today's human milieu to deliver Christ's message naturally and efficiently, i Many religious communities do not give the impression of being adequately adapted to our age. Young people ¯ This article, which first appeared as "Pourquoi la vie religieuse?" in Revue des communautds religieuses, v. 37. (1965), pp. 20-34, has been translated by Raymond L. Sullivant, S:J.; 4Mont~e de Four-vi~ re; Lyon V (Rh6ne), Franco 4- Jean Galot, s.J., is professor of dog-matic theology at Co]l/~ge Saint-At= bert; 95, chauss~e de Mont - Saint - Jean; Ee.genhoven - Lou-yam, Belgium.:. VOLUME 24~ 1965 505 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 506¯ who desire to reflect Christ in the world are reluctant to set out upon a path where constraining barriers separate them from the rest of humanity. They believe that by remaining laymen they Will be able to adhere to the Church and to God's own People in a more vital. -way, thereby giving apostolic expression to their exist-ence. . The recruiting crisis which .a number of congrega- .tions are experiencing makes the problem stand out in even greater relief. Are these communities in step with ¯ the contemporary Church? Is not religious life as a whole crippled by decrepitude? Does not the life's de-creasing ability to attract young people indicate that congregations are no longer in step with pre.~ent dhy mentality and that they have outlived their usefulness? One could answer that the signs of age affect. only the exterior forms of religious life. But are not these forms the manifestation of a spirit? Does not the rapid expansion of saintli,ne~s among the laity oblige religious to raise the question: Is a vision of the Church without ¯ the religious life conceivable? Could not the religious state be a form of holiness which, having played a cen-tral role in Christian life for centuries, could now dis-appear to be replaced by other.forms? The fact that the Council accorded special atten-tion to these problems, that its i resolution expressed the desire to see religious life develop with the life of the Church by adapting to the present day world, suffices to orient the answer to our questions. But a serious obligation exists to explore the problem in order to analyze the true meaning of religious life and its reason for being.1 Let us begin by considering the juridical structure which we customarily believe to form the framework of religious life. Canonically speaking, the state is constituted by the profession of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. But let us attempt to trace the life blood to its source--to the gospel from which it springs and from whence life flows. In other words, let us briefly, determine the place which Christ wished to reserve for the religious life when He founded His. Church. x The diversity of recent publications on the subject attests to the need and widespread desire for a searching inquiry into the doctrine of religious life. We shall limit ourselves to two collective studies: La vie religieuse clans l'Eglise du Christ (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer); Les religieux au]ourd'hui et demain (Paris: Cerf, 1964); and to two .individual ones: Soeur Jeanne d'Arc, Les religieuses darts l'Eglise et ¯ darts le monde actuel (Paris: Cerf, 1964); Gustave Martelet, S.J., Saintetd de l'Eglise et vie religieuse (Toulouse: Editions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). The last work mentioned, while brief, is outstanding for its depth of thought. How Was the. foundation effected? The first two chapters of St~ John's Gos.pel are extremely revealing in this respect. , This evangelist who employed the most perspective in writing an account of the life and work ¯ of Jesus and who, while supplying historical memories, reflected on their meanirig more than any otiier, places us, immediately after the hymn praising the Incarnation and after the witness of John the Baptist, before a double'image: Jesus 'sets about calling His disciples, He then accompanies them to the wedding feast of Cana where He ,operates His first miracle. Everything happens as if Christ had determined, from the begin-ning of the public life, the .two states which He wished to combine in His Church: the consecrated life, inaugu-rated by inviting the disciples to follow Him, and the mar-riage state, recognized while symbolically revealing His intention of tramforming it, of renewing it by grace. Jesus first institutes the consecrated life. He begins by requesting simple men to attach themselves com-pletely to His person. It is by the adhesion of two dis-ciples who have decided to follow Him and to share His company that the life of the Church is inaugurated. When the evangelist tells us that the first two disciples dwelled'near Jesus from that day (Jn 1:39), he advises us of the~e£act hour, "the tenth 'hour," in order to call attention to the importance of the event for-he has described the first day in the life of the Church.~ For the first time, a community of disciples is formed around the Master. We can realize the immediate relevance the e~ent assumes for the establishmentof the Church, this state of life in which one is entirely consecrated ¯ to Christ, a state to which certain souls receive a special call. The Apostles lived in this state, instituted in the number of twelve by Jesus, not simply in view of a preaching mission, but first of all to facilitate an inti-mate adherence to the Master; they are designated by Christ "to be his companions and to go out preaching at his command" (Mk 3:14). A similar concern attracts a more numerous group of disciples--and a few women who accompany Christ offering Him their existence and theii" devotion. The characteristics of this state are sufficiently clear from the Gospel without there being a question of + juridical organization as such. The central factor in ÷ "following'' Chr!s~ implies .complete submission out of ÷ regard for Him, a break with one's family, a renounce-ment of the trade practiced until then and of material Religious Life goods. It involves a community life.p01arized on Christ, "VOLUME 24, 196"5 = At least, it is the first day of the Church in process of formation; the Church will not be completely constituted Until Pentecost. 507 closer association with His redemptive work and apos-tolic mission. Fr6m these diverse aspects one can dis-cern ¯ the elements which will later constitute religious life: union 'with Christ through obedience~ chastity,. poverty, common life, and dedication to the apostolate. It is not yet a question of the religious life properly speaking, for as it was instituted by Jesus, the conse-crated life is not specified a~cording to determined forms, nor is it organized according to ;i single struc-ture. But it is inaugurated in keeping with a general principle, a" principle which will serve as a basis, in cen-turies to come, foi- various kinds of life--that of bishops and diocesan priests, that of religious and members of secular institutes, and that of various types of consecra-tion in the world. .÷ + + ~ean Galot, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 508 The Place oI the Counsels in the Complete Religious Lile The Gospels open perspectives on consecrated life, this state which Christ desired for the foundation of His Church. Scriptm:e invites us to definereligious life in terms which go beyond the three evangelical counsels: poverty, chastity, and obedience. There has been a wide-spread tendency to adopt too n~irrow a concept of religious life, making .it consist in the mere practice of the three counsels and the profession of the three corresponding vows. It i~ true that on certain occasions Jesus makes a special plea for poverty, for separation from one's family; or He .underlines the value of renouncing marriage. But these diverse elements draw their meaning from attach-ment to His person, an attachment that is immediate and exclusive. It is this tie which constitutes the central reality of the consecrated life. To consider the three "counsels" separately constitutes poor methodology and incurs a risk of arriving at a negative definition of the religious life which amounts to a refusal of the world. It is important to keep the summons: "Come follow me" foremost in mind, as it combines in a' logical synthesis the various demands of poverty, chastity, and obedience. One could object that the attachment to Christ is obviously presupposed in the vows, that this requirbment underlies the three counsels. Nevertheless, what is fundamental is enhanced by being clearly 'expressed---by Being set forth not ¯ merely as a suggestion, but in explicit ~ind concrete terms as the complete and primordial object of the commitment. Hence the religious life is not to be too exclusively r~duced to the three counsels. In keeping with evangel-ical indications and the experience of religious life itself, other features of ~he state deserve, to be emphasized in the. same degree: the total gift of self .to Christ; com-munity life; the consecration of one's entire existence to the Church and to the apostolate. ~ As a result of our attachment to Christ, we must stress the value of community life where the Master's precept of mutual charity i:ari find integr~il fulfillment. Religious life tends to translate this ideal of love into strong ties of solidarity and teamwork~ . Wholehearted commitment.to the apostolate, whether by prayer and sacrifice or through activity, also warrants being considered essential to the religious life. At times during conciliar debate, one. received the impression that the religious life was recognized and esteemed because of the personal holiness which it fosters and that insu~cient attention was paid to .the consecrated person's vigorous participation in the Church's evangelizing mission. It is fortunate that certain fathers called attention to the apos-tolic aims of religious life--not failing to recall the effec-tive witness value of these aims and the contribution of religious to missionary expansion. It is especially impor-tant to understand that the apostolic effort is not simply one of the fruits of religious life, nor the simple manifesta-tion of the sanctity which the state encourages, For re-ligious profession by its very essence entails a genuine com-mitment to the apostolate and involvement in all the activities which such a commitment implies. Thus to characterize the ;religious life in terms of the development of the interior life alone would constitute an incomplete assessment. While assuring such a de-velopment by an intimate adherence to Christ and by a regime of prayer, the religious must not be less con-cerned with the apostolic ascendancy of Christ over humanity. It is desirable that the very terms of reli-gious profession express this apostolic commitment de-liberately as well as underline a total attachment to Christ and to fraternal charity within the community. The Essential Reality of the Church Thus it is as a state characterized by preferential love of Christ, by community, and apostolic love that the consecrated life would appear to be included in the very foundation of the Church. By considering the three counsels alone, the ecclesial role of religious life is less apparent; the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience would appear only under the aspect of individual as-ceticism, or they may be considered as a simple enrich-ment of the Church rather than principles of a form of life which constitutes a necessary element of the Church herself. The Savior wanted the consecrated lives of His disciples and women followers to form the cornerstone of His Church, the very first stone. ÷ ÷ ÷ l~ligiou~ Li~v VOLUME 24, 1965 509 ÷ ÷ ÷ lean Galot, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 510 To gain insight into Christ's will, let us recall what the Church permits us to see in the depth of her being--in revelation. The basic aim of salvation's plan is to establish a :covenant between God and humanity. A new covenant, an ideal one, was announced by the prophets, particularly by Jeremiah and Ezekiel. At the Last Supper the Savior manifested His intention to found this covenant by His sacrifice and to render it forever present by the Eucharistic service. Now the covenant is fulfilled not between God and each individual but be-tween God and the community of His disciples founded by Jesus, a community destined to regroup all of hu-manity in unity. The Church was instituted as the community of the covenant. The great value which the consecrated life has for the covenant community is immediately discernible. Cove-nant signifies the union of man with God. In the consecrated life, this union is a~sured in the most im-mediate, direct ~ay. It is not an attempt to unite with God through the mediation of terrestrial goods but through a way of life in which the basic value is Christ Himself, all other treasures being renounced. Nor is the adherence accomplished through the mediation of hu-man love as in marriage. Every affection is focused upon Christ in person. Consequently, the covenant is inti-mately bound up with this, and the Church fulfills her-self in depth as she should truly be. Mankind enters the covenant founded by Jesus through human persons who attach themselves to Him directly and completely. The foregoing truth is revealed in a particularly strik-ing way by the consecration of virgins. By this means the Churcli assumes concretely and fully her identity as Bride of the Savior through the virgins who profess to live 'for Christ alone by reserving their heart entirely for Him.3 The covenant was originally announced through prophetic oracles in the form of matrimonial union, and Jesus chose to fulfill these oracles by pre-senting Himself as the Groom. According to St. Paul, the Church is His Bride; redemption itself is envisaged as the act of love par excellence, the model of conjugal love: "Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her" (Eph 5:25). The Church's act of attachment to her Spouse is manifested most integrally in the action of those souls who were regarded from the very earliest times as the brides of Christ, those who vow him a virginal love. The basic reality of the Church involved in this consecration is thus revealed in the bond uniting the Bride to the divine Spouse. s This truth is made remarkably clear by Father Martelet, Saintetd de l'Eglise, pp. 37-9; 51-3. Community charity is another element of the basic reality 0f the Church. The mutual love arising from the supernatural adherence to Christ which unites the mere- ¯ bers of the Church arose in the community of disciples who surrounded the Master, and it tends ~o develop most genuinely .and c0mplet~ly~ in religious c0~amunities-- ¯ where the Church's fulfillment is expressed in exterior actions, thereby permitting the greatest growth of inti- ¯ mate charity. And .finally it is tO be pointed out that apostolic d~namism is not superimposed on the Church from without but is a part. of her very reality, as the event of Pentecost shows. The Christian community, at the mo-ment when it was officially established as the Church by the power of the Holy Spirit, was constituted in a state of apostolic expansion. The grade received from .above transformed and sanctified the disciples causing them to radiate their testimony in the milieu where they were called to labor. Similarly, the consecrated life by chan-neling all the forces and resources of human' existence in the service of the apostolate, fulfills the Church's mis-sion in a most integral manner. If one recalls the most fundamental aspects of ihe consecrated life, one must- conclude in consequence that they are the. integral realization of the. Church in keep-ing with her fundamental marks: covenant community, imutual union, zeal of apostolic expansion in the world. In fact, one recogr~izes the marks of the Church accord-ing to the classical enumeration: holiness through union with God, unity, catholicity, and apostolicity. The com-parison indicates.the extent to which the consecrated life is a necessary constituent of the Church. The ~Religious Li[e andHierarchical Structure It is important to clarify the position of the conse-crated life in the Church. In its diverse forms (including the religious life, the most important of these), it does not enter into the hierarchical structure, the latter being concretely determined by the sacrament of order. It occupies no degree of order Within the hierarchy, nor can it be inserted between the clergy and ,the laity as an intermediary state. The question has recently been raised: Does the religious life belong to the structure of the Church?. One must respond in the negative inso-far as the.hierarchical structure is envisaged. But.there is also a spiritual structure of holiness and charity which is essential to the Church and of which the religious life is an indispensable element.4 The two structures are, ¯ It would appear'perhaps excessive ~o define with Father Martelet .($aintetd de l'Eglise, p. 102) the "hierarchical pole" as the'love of Christ for the Church and the "charismatic pole" by the Church's ÷ ÷ VOLUME 24, 1965 .4" Jean Galot, S.J. REVIEW FOR" RELIGIOUS 512 furthermore, closely related; and the religious l~fe,' as all of Christian life, submits to the direction of the hierarchy. It is' dependent on those whom Christ wished to be the shepherds of the community. Yet this dependence does not exclude a certain auton-omy in the sense that the hierarchy is destined .neith6r ¯ to create no~ to dominate.the religious life. The fact that religious institutes, have seldom been inspired or fot~nded by the hierarchy warrants reflection.5 Marked by charismatic origins, most. institutes have been founded by a layman or a priest who developed a .~ensitive aware-ness of. the Church's quest for holiness or of one of her particular and pressing needs. The founder wished to structure a kind of life that would meet this need and attract disciples in his steps in order to. perform a ~pecific work more perfectly. The religious life was ¯ thus formed "from below," from a stimulus produced by the Holy Spirit in the soul of the founders. The hierarchy's role has been to approve the society and its work and to utilize the spiritual and apostolic re-sources which religious put at its disposition for the pastoral task. The wisdom of the Church .and her leaders is to be admired for safeguarding this autonomy of religious life and for recognizing .therein an authentic action of the Holy Spirit which was to be "respected. Thus reli-gious life, within the whole of Christian life, testifies that in:keeping with God's plan divine lights andener-gie~ communicated to men are not exclusively reserved to the hierarchy, that the Spirit continues to breathe where it will--upon simple members of the Church as well as in the soul of her shepherds. The specific purpose of exemption is to permit a more "universal development of the inspiration which gives rise to religious institutes,~ As we have pointed out, exemption does not aim to withdraw religious life from the control of the hierarchy ' but rather to rehder its members more freely accessible for the service of the love for Christ, for the charismata imply Christ's love which is de-sirous of spreading throughout humanity and religious life entails a special love on the part of the Bridegroom. It is rather a question ¯ -of .two aspects of union or mutual love. One concerns the social organization of the Mystical Body and the other its spiritual life. ~ Father Martelet (Saintetd de l'Eglise, p. 96) judiciously observes that the bishops who have exerted an influence on the religio.us life have done it'less in virtue of their office than as a restilt of the spirit-. ual fashion in which they exercised it: St. Basil, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, St. Fran(is de Sales. e It seems to us that exemption does not aim simpl~ at guaranteeing charismatic inspiration, as Father Martelet believes (Saintetd de l'Eglise, pp. 99-I00), but rather thai it assures the universality of a form of holiness and of apostolic endeavor. universal, government" of the Church, the Pope and. the college of bishops. In fact, exemption concerns only the lbcal hierarchy, the government of a particular, diocese. For religious life normally tends to assume dimensions whiqh surpass diocesan confines, it aims to promote a ffni~,ersal form of holiness which will respond to the aspirations of a .large number .of souls in the Church; it wishes to estab-lish communal charity, to. unite Christians' of several ~.r.e.gions or~countries. It seeks to develop apostolic woi:ks which cross frontiers and ~o expand, most especially into mission .areas. This .universality. which justifies exemptioh, far from robbing the Church. of religious life, renders, the latter more coextensive with the Church as a whole, making it a more integral part of the uni-versal Church. The important role played by religious in missionary expansiofi testifies that exemption has guar.anteed "a more universal evolution of the Church and rendered personnel readily accessible to the will of the sovereign pontiffs. " Religious Life and Sacramental Structure. Difficulty in determining and 'evaluating the role of re-ligious life within the Church may result from the fact that the state is not founded on asacrament. There has been a tendency to compafe the religious state ~ith the priestly or marriage states, giving preference to the latter because of their si~cramental origin. Is it possible, in fact, tO say that religious life derives from a sacrament? We must affirm that it falls within the development of baptismal effects and develops ac-. quisitions received" through baptismal, consecration. The baptized person belongs to God and shares in divine holiness. This sharing finds full expression in the reli-gious life. ' Nevertheless, religious life, which is a response to. a special call from the Lord and which has ex-tremely elevated objectives, cannot be fully explained by the effects of baptism alone. The life arises from ~charisms which surpass the life of the baptized; and it involves commitments which, while fulfilling the baptis-mal promises to the maximum, go far .beyond whai is required of other Christians. . We must, then,, recognize that the religious life as such does not result from a sacrament. It is true that the entire life of the Church is affected by the sadraments-- but there are also extrasacramental influences within the Church. Just as the hierarchical structure does not enjoy a monopoly of the Holy Spirit's inspirations, the. sacramental structure enjoys no monopoly of the sources of grace. The sacraments are not to be conceived as the only principle¯of sanctification. Experiences in the ÷ ÷ Religious Li]e VOLUME 24, 1965 gean Galot, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 514 life of the Church and in the individual lives of saints reveal the importance of extrasacramemal grates, and the .numerous divine interventions in humhn history not be limited to the. sensible signs which ,constitute .the seven sacraments. There is no inferiority implied for. the religious life in its inability to be traced to a. sacramental origin. There would be no p0intl in drawing.a comparison with the priestly state, a reality of a.different order. The priesthood regults from a sacrament because it is destined to assume liturgical and pastoral functions. within the Church. To fulfill such functions is not 'the purpose of the religious life. Let.it suffice to mention that the two states are united in the case of many religious. They cannot, consequently, be opposed. . On the other hand, the comparison of the religious and marriage states is legitimate. Why is the first a sacra-m~ nt while the latter is not? If one recalls that the Councilof Trent proclaimed the superiority of the state of virginity oyer that of marriage, it may appear sur-prising that virginal consecration is not the object of a sacramental ceremony. Yet the very reason for the superiority of virginity enables us to glimpse a response to our problem. Virginity tends to realize the nuptials of Christ and-the Church directly, while marriage is only. a sign of this union, realized through the media~ tion of the human person of the partner. Profession attaches the ~eligious to Christ Himself as .the Spouse. It is therefore through plenitude not default that pro-fession is not a sacrament~ As a sign or symbolof Christ and the Church, marriage is a sacrament; as a reality of nuptials in which Christ becomes the authentic Bridegroom, virginal consecration is not a sacrament. Profession is not of the order of a sign but that of the reality signified. It thereby anticipates the future life where there will be no sacraments because the sign.s will hax;e.given way to the spiritual reality they represen.ted. Thus while marriage symbolizes the union of Christ and the Church in view of the latter's realization through human intermediaries~ virginal life accomplishes this union directly through anticipation of the celestial life. From this viewpoint, virginal consecration can be con- .sidered paralle! to martyrdom. What is called the bap-tism of blood goes beyond the sacrament: it is no longer a sign of the death of Christ but the reality of this death as lived by the disciples of Jesus. Rather than being a symbol of the passage from death to resurrection, it accomplishes this passage to blessed immortality. Vir-ginal life, through a kind of death to the flesh, inaugu-rates the passage to the immediate possession of the Groom in spiritual intimacy. Hidden Holiness and Bearing Witness In characterizing ~he ieligious life's .essential role in the Church, there is frequently a tendency to evaluate it in terms of testimony given: as a result of their con, secration, religious are called ~ost especially ~o bear witness to Christ, to. His sanctity,.His charity, His ¯ chastity, His obedience, His' apostolic zeal. We gran.t that this witness value is of considerable importance, but it .is not primordial. Testimony a~ises from. the .visible aspect which the religious life must assume, and it manifests the .exterior influences re-sulting from this visibility. But the first contribution of religious life is invisible, fulfilling a role which can be called ontological and helping to nourish and to develop the very reality of the Church. It is the Church's hidden sanctity which is enriched by religious life,-the secret union of the Church with Christ consummated ¯ by virginal consecration. The Church's invisible apos-tolic, efficacy is increased by the prayers, sacrifices, and the other activities which the religious state entails. One must consequently avoid restricting the problems of religious life within the narrow perspective of testi-mony. It may happen that poverty in certain institutes is profound and genuine, and yet scarcely any witness value may be apparent as a result of circumstances or some particular feature of observance. The fidelity of a chaste heart is interior; numerous acts of charity and obedience in religious life are not visible to ChriStians outside the cloister, and these acts should not become public. A certain preoccupation with testimony is legiti-mate, but it should neither diminish nor obscure the more essential will to live in all sincerity the demands of the consecrated life under the eyes of the Savior alone in "order to belong more exclusively to Him. Ex-cessive concern for testimony could lead to the erection of a facade at the expense of the humble construction of the reality of the Church. Furthermore, the contribution of the consecrated life to the holiness of the Church enlightens the religious as to his ecclesial respomibility. It should quicken his conscience to the.repercussions of his mo~t secret life within the. Church; even those acts which are witnessed by no one are destined to-sanctify humanity, to enrich the Church as a whole. The existence of. a ~eligious makes, no sense except within the framework of con-structing the Mystical Body of Christ. This activity should be first of all hidden and silent. Witness value follows as the second feature of the religious' contribution, to the sanctity Of the Church. It is this visible aspect, .the aspect of the sign,, which has inclined theologians to refer to the religious life as a + + + ¯ Religious Li]e VOLUME 241 1965 515 4. 4. 4. Jean Galot, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "saci'ament." r There is no doubt that in the Church. the religious life contributes a f~ndamental.kind of witness. It is of a nature which ~timulates Christians in their efforts toward~ holiness and influences non-Christians by rendering them sensitive to the force of the evangelic.al message. This testimony is above all concerned with the abso-luteness of God. The consecrated life gives .eviden.ce that God .deserves to be loved above all things--to the point that man should 'abandon all to adhere to Him and to promote the extension of His kingdoha. It. is also a witness to prayer, especially in the con-temPlativelife, bu~ in. the active religious life as well. At a time when the value of man tends to be measured in terms of the visible efficacy of action, it is important that special attention be given to prayer. The testimony of communities established on the basis of Christ's charity encourages other Christians to place no limit on. love for one another. And there is the test!mony Of poverty, chastity, and obedience, as witness which encourages lay people in their journey on the road of detachment and unselfishness, of conjugal, chas-tity, and of submission to Church authorities. Finally, there is the witness value of apostolic' activity Which. stimulat.es .zeal throughout the entire Christian com-munity. This reaction is apparent today in many mis-sionary fields where laymen in ever-increasing numbers are following the example given by religious. The Value of Religious Life and Adaptation While attempting to establish the place of the religious state in the life of the Church, We have answered in global fashion the questions, raised in the introduc-tion to this article. We shall now summarize the im-portant points to .bring the answers sharply into focus. It is true that laymen should pursu, sainthood. We are to rejoice that the Christian layman today is in, creasingly conscious of the nobility Of his state and the demands of' perfect.ion which this role entails. In addi-tion, according to Christ's plan, a more complete form of holiness, that of the consecrated life, is necessary the Church and must develop within her. The Gospel call: "Come follow me" is ceaselessl~ repeated in all ages to attract certain of the faithful to .make a fundamental contribution to the formation and expansion of the Church. Direct union with the. Savior is irreplaceable. ' It can be achieved by the complete abandonment of goods and family, the consecration Of all one's forces ~ See J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., "Religious Life, Sacrament of God's Presence" and "Religious Life, Sacrament of God's Power," REVIEW FOR RELigiOUS, V. 23 (1964),'pp. 6-14; 420-32. and activities to the apostolate. These actions are facil-itated by community life founded exclusively on the love of Christ. Since marriage is to be considered the sign of the nuptials of Christ and the Church, all the importance which is legitimately attributed to this sign also en-hances the value of the religious life where.the nuptials with the divine Spouse become a reality. Souls who ardently search for the presence of the Savior can find Him through a human intermediary, but Christ is en-countered more dynamically through the direct adher-ence of virginal consecration. The two approaches are on a different level: the religious life anticipates here on earth that possession of Christ without an inter-mediary as it will be accorded in the celestial state. As for apostolic services, laymen can assume them on a basis of equality with religious insofar as exterior action and efficiency are concerned. But nothing can re-place that holiness in the service of the apostolate re-sulting from the consecration of one'~ entire being to the Lord. Wherever apos.tolic activity is animated by a more complete love of Christ and a more devoted love of neighbor, it acquires a superior value and its invisible apostolic efficacy ig considerably increased. If we keep in mind that the apostolate is a means of com- 'municating holiness, the role that the consecrated person is to play in the Church's apostolic life becomes imme-diately evident. His contribution cannot be considered as the mere equivalent of that of other Christians. The apos-tolate is to be judged according to its soul rather than its external works. Religious institutes are making a great effort towards adaptation. It is hoped that these efforts will pro, duce a vital thrust towards encounter with contemporary hu-manity. That such an effort may require painful sacri-fices of those religious who are imbued with traditional practices is readily conceivable, but the generosity ¯ characteristic of the religious state is capable of making sacrifices. Thanks to such a spirit we can hope that the re-ligious life will occupy that vital role within the Church and the marketplace which our Lord accorded it. 4. 4- 4. VOLUME 24, 1965 JEAN DANIELOU, S.J. The Placeof Religious in the Structure of the Church Jean Dani~lou, S.J.; 15, Rue Mon-sieur; Paris 7, France, is professor of theology at the Institut Catholique of Paris. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 518 One* might wonder why the Council in The Constitu-tion on the Church treats religious life along with the hierarchy and the laity. The reasons for this are pastoral. Religious, men and women, contemplatives or mis-sionaries, are in fact an essential component part of the Church. The eminent place which women occupy in the Church is particularly under the form of religious life. Besides, inasmuch as religious life is a total consecra-tion to God, it appears as more than ever necessary in a world which tends to construct itself outside of God, because without worship the world of the future would be an inhuman world. Finally, from the ecumenical point of view, the neglect of religious life by the Council would be incomprehensible in view of the fact that it has always held a respected place in the OrthodoxI world and that Protestantism is now rediscovering it. But these reasons would not be absolutely decisive if religious life did not constitute an essential part of the structure of the Church. Furthermore, the primary ob-ject of the Council is, as Pope Paul reminded the Fathers in opening the second session, to give the Church the opportunity to define her structure. If religious life was only one form in the history of the universal vocation to holiness in the Church, it would be acceptable to treat it as such. But this precisely appears contrary to the whole tradition. Certainly all aspects of the Church are ¯ This article appeared originally in Etudes, February, 1964; it was translated by Sister M. Janet, c.s.J.; Archangel College; Engle-wood Cliffs, New Jersey. 1 See o. Rousseau, "Le r61e important du monachisme dans l'Eglise d'Orient," in II monachesimo orientale ["Orientalia christiana ana-lecta," n. 153] (Rome: Pontifical Institute of Oriental Studies, 1958). in a sense mutually shared: there is a universal priest-hood; there is a Universal interdependence of the Christian people; there~is a universal vocation to holi-ness. But each one of these aspects also presents its es-tablished form. This is true of the hierarchy and of the laity;, we wish to show that it is also true of the relig.ious state. The first question is that of the basis of the religious state in the New Testament itself. In reality there is no ¯ divine right to the structure .of the Church except inso-far as it rises from its institution by Christ and the Apostles at least in its beginnings. How does this affect our question here? This is the problemof the evangelical counsels. We must examine it rigorously. But first we must note that we are speaking here of the evangelical counsels in the strict sense, that is to say, not insofar as they mean a universal call to Christians to an evangeli-cal life of poverty, "chastity, and obedience, but insofar as they point out the proper means to realize this call, means which establish a particular state of life to which all are not called. What is there concerning this in the New Testament? ~ It does not seem that the three counsels, as held by traditional teaching, are on the same plane. Poverty ap-pears above all as the expression of the primacy of the kingdom of God which must be preferred to all else. And this disposition is eSsential to the Christian 'voca-tion. Nevertheless, the principle of poverty as expressed in" a particular state of life is clearly indicated. Hence, the words of ChriSt to the rich young man, even if they .express first of all the primacy of the Gospel over the Law, undoubtedly suggest also that the evangelical ideal can be expressed in the form of an effective renounce-ment of the possession of material goods which consti-tutes in itself a state of life which is more perfect. "If you will be pbrfect, go, sbH all that you have and follow me" (Mt 19:21). Like pove~'ty, obedience is first of all the expression of the primacy of the divine will. It finds incomparable expression in the obedience 6f the Son to the Father; and in this sense, it is the Christian vocation itself. But this obedience can also take the form of a renouncement of self, determination related to that particular resolu-tion of the divine will which is precisely the effective renouncement of property and of marri~ige and which is not demanded of all. It is in this sense that St. Paul speaks, concerning widows, that is, women consecrated to God, about fidelity. Indeed, he blames those women who have violated "the promise they have made" (1 Tim 5:12). Obedience appears then as the very form of a life consecrated to God inasmuch as-this life ex- 4. ÷ 4- Place o~ Religious VOLUME Z4, 196S 519 .÷ ¯ .lean Dani~lou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS presses the definite promise to submit oneself to a cer-tain state of life rather than as a special observance which would be added to other states. This is then al-ready what will later become monastic obedience. And it is more obedience to a rule than to a person, the su-perior having only .the duty of being the guardian of the rule. Nevertheless, poverty and obedience as expressio.ns of a state in life are only. suggested by the New Testament. This is in contrast with virginity consecrated to God which is taught b'y Christ Himself as a mystery to which only certain souls are called. The disciples ask Jesus: "If such is the condition for marriage, it is better not to marry." And Jesus replies: "That conclusion cannot be taken in. by everybody, but only by those who have the gift" (Mt 19:10-1). Very clearly then, here is a special state which is not a component of the Christian vocation in itself. Elsewhere, it is about virginity that Paul uses the word counsel; and this is the only case where the word appears in this sense in the New Testament (1 Cor 7:25). The distinction between a commandment, which is addressed to everyone, and a counsel, which is a call from the Lord to some, is here clear. Furthei"more, the existence of virgins consecrated to God in the primitive Christian community is attested to by the New Testament. This is the case of the four daughters of the deacon Philip (Acts 21:9). The text says' precisely .that these virgins were prophesying. This description gives authority .to add another element to the matter of the New Testament origin of the religious state: virginity appears in connection with the charis-mata and so constitutes a link with the action of the Holy Spirit in the community. This fact is also attested by the Didache. Therefore, this charismatic aspect will remain a characteristic of the religious state. The fathers Of the desert and the stylites are charismatics. The great religious orders are of charismatic origin. They witness the liberty of the Spirit in the heart of the Christian community. Benedict, Fr.ancis, Dominic, Ignatius, and Teresa are. expressions of the charismatic action of the Spirit in the building of the' Church alongside her hierarchical action. The orders which they founded are the necessary institutionalization of these charismata to assure the permanence of their presence in the Church. Therefore, the New Testament attests to the existence of a state of life consecrated to God, related to the charismata, and expressing itself above all in virginity. But does this state constitute an order properly speak-ing, comparable to the laity or to the hierarchy? Theie is place for an objection here. It is evident that the New Testament includes a call to the practice of the evangel-ical counsels. But is. not this call something personal which can be addressed to clerics or to the laity and does not constitute a special order? In this case, it would be this call alone which would be primary and would have its source in the New Testament. The realization this call in the form of the religious state would only be an historical development. This question leads us to examine more closely the teaching of the New Testa-ment and of early tradition. This examination reveals to us the presence in local communities from the. beginning of: a special order, alongside the hierarchy and the laity, which is char-acterized by a total consecreation to God. In this sense, the New Testament speaks of a consecrated celiba6y, the order of widows (1 Tim 5:3-16). This order is Pa{allel to the order of presbyters (5:.17-20). Therefore it really was an order in the heart of the community. The function:of this order, from its origin, is that of the religious sta~e: "The woman who is. indeed a widow, bereft of all help, will .put her trust in God and spend ¯ her time, night and-day, Upon the prayers and petitions that belong to her state" (5:5). Later the place of the order of widows will be compared to that of an altar in the church.2 They represent that.continual prayer which is a pillar of the community parallel to the hierarchy and which still today makes up the irreplaceable char-acte~ of the contemplative life in the Church. BuL very early, the virgins 'who existed from the be-ginning 'in the community constituted also an order by virtue of their resemblance to that of the widows. Doubtless it is in this way that we must understand the word of Ignatius of Antioch, speaking of "virgins called 'widows.' " In any case, one 6f the most ancient rituals that we possess, the Apostolic Tradition of. Hippolytus of .Rome, which dates from the beginning of the third ¯ century and represents a much older state, enumerating the different orders of the Church, mentions virgins after priests and bishops, but before subdeacons and lectors,. A text of the same ritual distinguishes three categories in regard to the discipline of fasting: virgins and widows, laity, and bishops. No text is more clear on the distinction of the three orders.3 At the same period, at Alexandria, Clement and Origen give witness to the existence of an order, of virgins and of ascetics. Therefore it is certain that, in the words 6f Plus XII, "according to the apostolic fathers and the oldest ec- ~P~lyca~:p, Letters, 8, 2. 8 See J.-M. Hanssens, La liturgie d'Hippolyte ["Orientalia christi-ana analecta," n. 155] (Rome: Pontifical Institute of Oriental Studies, 1959), pp. 153 and 372. Place ot Religious VOLUME 24, 1965 52! ]ean Dani~lou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS . --- clesiastical writers, it can be easily established that in different churches,' the followers of a life of perfection constituted an order and a class in the society." 4 At first, this state of virginity" or celibacy was lived in the local church community where it constituted a special group. Beginning in the fourth century with Anthony, the ascetics separated themselves from the community and retired into solitude; hence, the ,her-mit's. life was identified with the practice of the coun-sels. Soon, others, following Pachomius and Basil, organized communities of ascetics and began the cenobiti-cal life. These two constituted, arid continue to .consti-tute in the Orient, the monastic order formally distinguished from the hierarchy and from the laity. This appears in a manner particularly clear in the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy of pseudo-Dionysius the Areop-agite at the end of the sixth century; in this' work, monastic life is treated at length as an order in the Church along with th~ hierarchy. In the West, religious life developed in multiple ways according to constitu- ¯ tions approved by the Church, but everywhere and al-ways, "the .public profession of the evangelical counsels was counted among, the three principal ecclesiastical orderL" 5 What is fundamentM is that throughout all these de-velopments the effective, practice of the evangel!cal counsels has always been presented under the form of an "order," having its own law in the Church whether it is a question of "widows" of an apostolic community or .of religious congregations today. The forms of the "ordo" have been very diverse. They continue this di-versity today, from.the orders with solemn vows to the secular institutes. But if we look at them from the theological instead of the canonical point of view, we see that these forms spring from the same source in the Church. This definition of the practice of the evangelical counsels as a rule in itself is ~xpressed by the. fact that the Church does not consider it as legitimate except when she recognizes it; evidence for this can be seen even as .far back as .Ignatius of Antioch Where he says that anyone who wishes, to practice virginity must so advise the bishop. Hence, the practice of the evangelical counsels isestablished in.a state of life which has its own rights and duties. From this, we also understand the fact that the Church has always fought the tendency to generalize the effective practice of the counsels and to consider them as essential to Christianity.Such a tendency was very strong in the first centuries in partict~lar, and * Provida Mater, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 116. B Provida Mater, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v: 39 (1947), p. 106. against it the Church has always defended marriage not only as legitimate, but also as constituting a real vocation to sanctity. In. fact, .she has always supported the ~ight to private property and to wealth. In this way, she set the foundation for an authentic.lay spirituality to be considered as develOping in line with the vocation of the laity in the Church .and not as a participation in the religious life as the only vocation to'sanctity. But at the same time, she als0 founds the religious state as a state of life in itself,-distinct from the laity and from. the priesthood not only by its function in the Church but also by its means to sanctity. Therefore, it is clear that the evangelical counsels can be partihlly lived outside the religious state since each aspect of the Church participates in some way with the others. But they are then a sort of equivalent to the religious state. In other words, the practice of the evangelical counsels is not bound to the essence of the lay state nor to that of the priesthood. On the contrary, it is bound 'to the essence of the religious state. So, it would be erroneous to speak of the vocation to the counsels as universal and to see in religious life only their principal form. This is. contrary to truth. It is the religious state which is the normal f.orm of.the practice of the counsels. Therefore, the religious state is the. proper object of a chapter on the counsels. The celibacy of priests in the Westei-n Church poses a special problem. I~ appears, in fact, to be distinct from a partial participation in the ideal of the counsels, and to be situated in a direct line with the vocation of the ¯ priesthood. Now, this vocation is defined above all as that of the pastor who gives his life for his flock. Celi-bacy appears here not considered in itself, as is the case for religious life, but as a consequence of priestly life in its fulfillment. That is why it is essentially in the study of the priesthood and its duties that celibacy is to be situated, not in the study of ~he effective practice of the evangelical counsels. The priestly celibacy would other-wise appear as an imperfect participation in something which religious practice more perfectly. To this point we have established that the origins of the religious state were instituted by Christ Himself and that the effective practice of the: evangelical coun-sels did indeed constitute a way.of life,, an "ordo," .dis-tinct from the laity and from the priesthood. It remains to show in what sense it is part of the structure of the Church. This is already apparent, in the facts. For Hippolytus of Rome, the order of virgins was part of the structure of the local Christian community. And this form of consecrated virginity may very well be re- + ÷ Place o] R~ligious " VOLUME 24~ 1965 523 4. .4. 4. lean Daniilou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 524 .appearing in our day, as in'the case for the "Auxiliaires de l'apostolat." The religious state is recognized by canon law ag one of the three orderswhich make up the universal Church.° The experience of bishops attests that where monastic life does not yet exist, the Church has not established-firm roots. Then, too, it is char-acteristic of a living Church to bring forth vocation~ to a life of the counsels. On the other hand, it is clear that religiou~ life does not belong to the structure of the Church in the same way as the h!erarchy, although it is essential to that structure. First, it can be said that the religious state is not part of what is, strictly speaking, the condition re-quired for th~ existence of a Church. A Church cannot exist without priests who distribute the sacraments and the word of God nor without people to receive them. But the hierarchy and the Christian people are the minimal conditions. If we envisage the Church in her fullness, in her integrity, to quote Monsignor Weber, then it is necessarily composed of lives consecrated to God. These lattei; are the sign of the very flowering of the community. As long as they remain unborn, the community is not fully complete. And now we take up the characteristic of the aspect of the structure of the Church which corresponds to the religious state. It is concerned with the purpose of the Church which is holiness, as Plus XII wrote in the con-stitution Provida Mater.~ This purpose evidently con-cerns all Christians. But, it implies a communal expres- Sion which will manifest itself not only individually but also in the very structure of the Church. This purpose, which is perfect union with Christ and which will not be consummated until our life in heaven, is already visibly signified in religious life. That is why thb liturgical consecration of virgins symbolized, from the times of the first Christian community, the nuptials of Christ and the Church: ,lust as the hierarchy is the or-gan by which the life of the risen Christ is communi-cated through the sacraments--and withou't which this life would not be commhnicated--and just as the sacra-ments create a milieu of grace vhere holiness is possible, just so, the religious state is the expression of the perfec-tion ofthis holiness by creating conditions which favor the flowering of the gcaces given by the sacraments. But the purpose of the Church is not only the sancti-fication of Christians but the glory of God. Here again, the religious state, especiall~ under the monastic and contemplative form but also under the apostolic form,. ~ See also Provida Mater. Acta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. !16. r Provida Mater, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 115. is the expression, at once communal and personal, of this end of the Church. Through the Divine Office, it perpetually represents the praying Church before the Trinity. It thus app.ears as a necessary function of the whole Body. "The Church," said Berdyaev, "cannot exist' without bishops and priests,~.bfit.she lives'and breathes through the martyrs and the ascetics." The Council is founded on the prayer of the Carmelites as much as on the authority of the bishops. This function of adora-tion appears even more vital for the Church and for the entire humanity as the world today separates itself from God and tends to smother itself in introversion. The function of monasteries as places of recollection is even more necessary for lay people as they are more involved in the world. Finally, another function of religious life is its eschatalogical significance. It appears as a foretaste of the life of glory that lies beyond our terrestrial tasks. In this sense it constitutes a reminder to men, engaged in earthly cares, of their real end. By detachment from riches, from pleasures, and from ambitions, it shows that worldly goods are not reality; it turns our gaze to-ward heavenly goods. Here again, the intensity of the religious life will determine its effectiveness as a coun-terbalance to worldly attractions. In ce}tain epochs, its attractiveness was such that it magnetized even the most powerful energies. It represents an advance guard of the Church which the laity needs to maintain the difficult balance between a life absorbed by the tasks through which they sanctify themselves but which at the same time are a heavy burden on them. Having said this, we have defined the religious state in itself, but it remains irue that the religious state is no more separated from the tasks of the Church. than the priestly state or the lay state. In this sense r~ligious par-ticipate in numerous cases in the priesthood and in the episcopacy and hence are introduced into the hie~'- archical ministery; furthermore, women religious carry a large part of the responsibility for building up the universal Church in their work of the apos.tolate, espe-cially to women. It is impossible to define limits in an absolutely rigorous way. But this is why it is first of all necessary to distinguish definitively the "states." It is in the measure that the religious state is first of all recog-nized in its nature, its function, and its own mission, that its participation in the communal life of the Church will be manifested more easily. 4- Place ot Religious VOLUME 24, 1965 SISTER HELEN JAMES JOHN, S.N.D. Rahner on Roles in the Church + 4. Sister Hden James John, S.N.D., is stationed at Trin-ity College; Wash. ington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Recent discussion on all sides points toward a general redistribution of responsibilities in the life of the Church. Laymen are taking on tasks previously re-served to the clergy, as theologians, missionaries, leaders in Catholic Action; they are increasingly consulted in matters of Church teaching and government. Women are less and less silent in the Church as the days go by; they have gained admiss, ion~ to the ~anks of the theolo-gians, petitioned for their own representatives at the Council, even attracted serious theological attention to the question of giving them holy orders. The Council itself has given greater dimensions to the office of bishop and may well authorize a married diaconate in some parts of the world, and in the Western Church we have seen a few real instances and heard a vast amount of discussion of married priests. In the United States the active orders of women have long been running their own aggiornamento through the Sister Formation Movement and the Association of Major Superiors, and of late they have been exhorted by Cardinal Suenens to realize more fully their position as "auxiliaries of the clergy" and called on by Michael Novak to enter the mainstream of secular life. When sweeping changes are to be made, it is pecu-liarly important that the people making them should understand the.meaning and purpose of the institutions to be changed. In the matter of roles in the Church it has long been customary to appeal too the definitions of canon law; this will no longer suffice, for the ongoing discussion looks precisely to effecting changes in that law. What we need now is a theological perspective; and this is precisely what Karl Rahner has to offer. From his numerous, often technical, essays and conferences, we can assemble the main lines of a coherent and illumi-nating theology of vocations. This doctrine will not pro- vide cut and dried solutions ' to our current problems; Rahner endears himself to our own generation by his willingness to raise questions to which the answers are not indexed in Denzinger. But he can help us mightily to see just what is at stake in the decisions which must be made. Rahner's key principle iia this area is universal and unequivocal: "Through sacramental consecration and empowerment every Christian, in the Church is consti-tuted, qualified, and in duty bound to a position and task of active co~esponsibility and work inside and out-side theChurch." l~His further explorations into the meaning of the layman's situation, the official hier-archical apostolate of the clergy, and the eschatological witness proper to the religious are all to be understood as explications of this central theme. Layman, cleric, and religious alike are active members of the Church, called ¯ to take their special parts in the Church's.own task-- to make manifest in .the world the victorious coming of God's grace from on high. All the functions of all Christians are encompassed in the unique function of the Church herself which is to .be "the body of Christ, the enduring, .historical presence of His truth and grace in the world, the continuing efficacy of the incarnate Word in the flesh." What distinguishes the layman from the cleric or the religig.us is that he keeps, as his permanent life-situation, the place in the world which is his independently of and prior to his membership in the Church. This place in the wo~rld is determined by the individual's historical situation, his nation and,family, his natural abilities and interests. What constitutes him as a layman is the fact that he retains this place in the world for his Christian existence. By baptism, the layman is commissioned to bear witness; precisely in this place, "to .the truth, of God, to God's fidelity, and to the hope of eternal life." This means that the life-task of the layman cannot be conceived in terms merely of organized religion--Holy Name Sunday, fund-raising, and the like. It must be seen as the revolutionary realization that he is called to manifest the truth and the love of Christ in all the dimensions of his life--in his family, his profession, his participation in the political and cultural life of his community. His pla~e in the world provides the material for his Christian existence and lays upon him a respon, ~ibility which no one can assume in his stead. The special mission of the layman, then, will be found not in Catholic Action but in the action of Catholics; his fundamental obligations come to him not "from 1 Nature and Grace, trans. Dinah Wharton (London: Sheed and Ward, 19~3), p. 87. Italics Rahner's. ÷ ÷ ÷ Roles in the ¯ Church VOLUME 24, 1965 527. 4. 4. Sister Helen .lames $ohn, $.N.D. REVIEW FOR REIAG~OUS above," from the hierarchy, but "from below," from the requirements of his being in the world. The widening horizons of human experience--the secular sciences/the arts, technology, political life--are today calling for a ¯ radically new kind of Christian response. For ih a completely new historical sense, the "world" has, really only now, begun to exist, i.e. the world which man him-self has brought forth out of n~iture; ultimately, this world can be christianized only by the one who has fashioned it, viz. the layman.' This Christianizing of the temporal constitutes the "lay apostolate" in Rahner's strict sense of the term--a mission in the life of the Church for which the layman. possesses real autonomy and the strict duty of leader-ship. And it follows from this definition that the lay apostolate cannot be organized from above by a kind of ecclesiastical "state socialism." There are, and there should be, associations of lay Catholics by which they seek to aid each Other in the accomplishment of their mission; but the nature of the task itself rules out the possibility of its being mapped out in detail on an a priori basis. Hence there, is need for whav Rahner terms "a supernatural existential ethics," which recognizes not only the validity of abstract moral principles but also the direct claim of God upon the unique personal re-sponse of the Christian in his concrete situation. Among the practical consequences which Rahner draws from this view of the layman's vocation, two perhaps 'are of special interest and relevance. The first is posi-tive: There .is need for full recognition of the autonomy of the layman in those areas where his proper mission lies. To use Rahner's own example: Conscientious laymen who are editors of magazines should not have to ~sk themselves, as apprehensively as is sometimes the ¯ case, whether the opinions expressed in their periodicals are are agreeable to those in high places or not? Negatively, the limit of the layman's proper mission is set by his being-in-the-world. The work of th~ lay aposto-late is not, essentially, the work of recruiting, convert-ing, warning, or exhorting (which work is characteristic of the official hierarchical mission), but the dynamic witness of his own Christian life. The formation for this apostolate thus consis~s not in the kind of drilling geared to train aggressive militants of a basically "Salva-tion Army" type, but education for the vital interior Christianity which alone can express itself in the witness of an authentically lived Christian life. ~ Theological Investigations, v. 2, trans. Karl H. Kruger (Balti-more: Helicon, 1964), p. 349. ~ Theological Investigations, v. 2, p. 351. ¯ In contrast to the layman, the "cleric" is one whose basic and permanent life-task lies in the hierarchical ministry of the Church, that ministry which represems, in and for the Church, "Christ's po.sition as Lord in relation to the people of the Church." The. cl~ri~ shares in the mission and the power to form Christians' and to maintain and strengthen the Christian community. For the sake of this mission,' the "official" apostle must be sent out. He is called to give up his original place in the world, to leave:his nets and house and lands; .for his apostolic mission claims his whole existence. He 'is sent to spaces and dimensions of human existence which are not naturally his own; and to these he brings his mes-sage not simply as bearer of his own Christianity, but as the messenger of .Christ who must deliver his message not only in ~eason but also and especially out of season. This concept of the official hierarchical ministry, it should be noted, is considerably wider than that which limits it to men in holy orders. Edward Schillebeeckx, O.P., for. example, regards deacons, priests, and bishops as the only partic!pants in the hierarchical ministry. In Rahner's analysis, ho.wever, this ministry involves the exercise of two distinct types of power: the sacramental, "priestly" powers communicated by ordination and the ¯ "prophetic" power~ of ruling and teaching in the Church. In the divinely instituted office of bishop, the two ai'e inseparable; the bishop is at once high :priest and successor to the "Apostles. Yet in other instances, Rahner maintains, these powers can be separated and subdivided. The test case which he uses '~o clarify this point is that in which a layman should be elected pope: possessing by his election the plenitude of the power of jurisdiction, he could hardly be said to remain a lay-man while awaiting ordinationt The practical consequence of this theoretical position is that all who actually share either in the power of orders or in the mandate of ruling and.teaching are to be considered as ~'clerics." The official ministry is not then limited to priests. Catechists, missiona.ries, and theologians, women as well as men, married people as well as celibates, receive with their apostolic mission a new status within the Church. Certain limitations On the pow0:s which a woman may exercise arise from the fact that in the higher offices (that is, the episcopate) the powers of orders and of jurisdiction are noimally joined. And Rahner sees the restriction of holy orders to men as a matter of divine institution.4 On the other hand, the celibacy of priests in the Western Church is to be understood as the taking over of an essential ~ See Theological Investigations, v. 2, p. 321. However, lately there have been rumors that Father Rahner has changed his mind. Roles in the Church VOLUME.24; 1965 529 4. 4. 4. Sister Helen ]ames John, S2V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS aspect of the religious life rather than as a quality of the priesthood as such. This view of the hierarchical apostolate looks toward an increasingly clear and officially constituted .diversity of ministries among the. "clergy," for the accomplish-ment of tasks which lie beyond the ~cope. of the lay apostolate as defined above. The rule which Rahner introduces here is simple but often overlooked: "If someone is entrusted with a task, he should be allowed to fulfill it" (Rahner's italics). And he goes on to. ex-press the hope that as efforts are made to act upon this ¯ rule, we shall see the gradual disappearance of the in-stinctive tendency of priests to lord it over their non-ordained colleagues in apostolic work. As this occurs ¯ and as areas of responsibility become more clearly de-fined, it should become less difficult to recruit mature and qualified Christians for professional engagement in Catholic Action "and other ecclesiastical endeavors. Nor does Rahner limit this suggestion to the filling, of gaps in the lower echelons arising out of the shortage of priests. He would like to see people today who would play the same role in the Church as ,did, iri their time, Tertullian, Origen, Clement of Alexandria, and 'Cathe-rine of Sienal" As the layman's task is to bear witness to Christ pre-cisely in and through the ,activities of hissecular life by the loving and faithful ac.complishment of duties which have their .own natural significance, so the spe-cial calling of the religious is t6 make manifest .in his life the transcendent and eschatological dimensions of divine grace. The kingdom of God has already come in Christ; and the center of Christian life, even while we await. His coming in glory; has been set beyond this world. Thus, to be true 'to her own essence, the Church must present herself as having here no abiding city~ as awaiting the x;eturn of her Lord. This aspect of the Church comes to realization, as it were sacramentally, in communities of religious. Religious Orders are a social expression of the charismatic and'enthusiastic element in the Church. a representational part of the victorious grace of God that has come into the world, which draws man beyond the field of his own possibilities and incorporates him into the life of God himself? Since the eschatol6gical dimension, of Christianity consists precisely in the fact that the Christian's life is centered beyond the realm of natural values and mean. ings, the realm directly accessible to human experience, it cannot manifest itself in natural morM activity. For such activity expresses the natural perfection of man's own being; thou.gh this .may be .inwardly divinized by "The Motives of Poverty," Sponsa Regi,~, v. 33 (1962), p. 349. grace, itcannot of itself show forth, outwardly the transcendent love by which it is informed. The only possible human manifestation of this aspect of grace is found in the renunciation of positive and .lofty natural values ."for the sake of the Kingdom." It is' of the es-sence of the evangelical cduns~ls that th6y cannot be .justified within the framework of a natural morality;. tO sacrifice, the possession of m~terial goods, the noble . joy of marriage, and One's own personal autonomy Would be sheer madness if the meaning of man's life were to be realized within this world. The special .role of the re-ligious in the Church. is thus, in the famous words of Cardinal Suhard, "to be a living mystery, to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not exist." By religious profession, then, a Christian does not add a properly new vocation to the common, vocation which all receive in baptism. Rather, he binds himself by vow to live out, even externally, at all the levels of his life and in its total meaning, that entrance into the redeem-ing death of Christ which is begun for every Christian in baptism and which is at last achieved by God's grace in his death in Christ. The religious wills to express outwardly in the concrete circumstances of his life his inward assent to the constant prayer of the first Christians: "Let grace'come and let this world pass awayl" Accordingly,. he makes his desire to die with Christ, to become a fool for Christ's sake, the central factor in the existential shaping of his life. The vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience derive their total meaning from the invitation of Christ to come follow Him; they are rooted and grounded in His proclama-tion of the kingdom. In consequence, Rahner has little use for all those considerations, beloved of spiritual writers, which would recommend the counsels, to us as the avoidance of dangers to the practice of virtue or as the "heroic" moral achievement of something more perfect simply because more difficult. The only justification for the religious life lies in its concrete expression of the act of faith in the coming of God's grace from on high. Thus, religious poverty is meaningful only insofar as it fosters a radical readiness for the kingdom of God. By selling his goods and giving the proceeds to the poor, the Christian expresses his belief in the kingdom which unites all men in brotherhood and love; he gives visible testimony to his recognition that God's grac~ is the only ultimate fulfillment of human life. The same essential motive and meaning lies at the heart of consecrated virginity. Rahner rejects without hesitation any proposal to regard virginity in itself as a 4- + Roles in the Church VOLUME 24, 1965 53! 4" 4. 4. Sister Helen ]ames John, S.N.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS self-evident ideal. The vow of chastity has its source in sacred history, in the virginity of the Mother of God, of whom he.writes: Her virginity, and the origin of our Lord without an earthly father, signify one and the same thing, not in.words, but in easil~ unddrstood terms of human life: God is the God of freely bestowed grace, who cannot be drawn down from on high by all.our endeavors, whom we can only receive as the inexpressibly freely given gift of himself.6 The celibacy of the religious is m~ant to give existential expression to an inner altitude of expectation, of recep-tivity, of awaren(ss that Ultimately only God's free.ly given grace is important. Likewise, in this context, religious, obedience is by no means a canonization of the natural virtue in the ab-stract as the simple willingness to execute the will of.an-other. Nor does it in a0y way relieve the subject of responsibility for what he does; an act is no less the sub-ject's own for hav!ng been comrfianded. Rather, the vow of obedience relates to the totality of the life of the counsels; by it a man accepts a permanbnt life-form giving him a Godward orientation. What is at stake here. is not simply thb readiness to carry out particular com- .mands but the free decision to embrace a life that is not primarily concerned with the tangible realiza-tion of worldly objectives, but which through faith makes the expectation, of hidden grace the ground of existence, and trans, lates this faith into act. The man who accepts obedience as the authentic out-ward expression of his faith in Christ makes of his whole life a practical anticipation of the situation in which every Christian faces death-~the command of God to move on and to leave all, to allow ourselves in faith to be ab-. sorbed in the great silence of God, no longer to resist the all-embracing nameless destiny which rules over'us.7 Thus the whole life of the religious is meant to be a visible participation iia the death of Christ. Just as no one can replace the layman in his task of manifesting the presence of God's grace in the various spheres of secular life, so no one can replace the religious in his witness to the world-transcending character of that grace. Thus Rahner is clear in his opposition.to any practical proposal which would abandon the e~chato-logical witness of the vows for the sake of greatex~ effi-ciency even in apostolic tasks. The lived manifestation of transcendent grace is no less essential to the life of the Church than is the preaching of the Gospel; nor 6Mary, Mother of the Lord (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963), p. 69. 7 "Reflections on Obedient:e," Cross Currents, v. 10 (1960), p. 374. may we assume that all tasks which must be accom-plished by the Church ought ipso facto to be accom-plished by religious communities. On the other hand, the celibacy even of diocesan priests in the West and the apostolic work actually done by religious communities do manifest an inner'connection, though not a neces-sary connection, between the religious and the clerical vocations. In the Ignatian spirituality common to so many active congregations of men and women today, the ideals of "indifference" and of "seeking God in all things" are firmly rooted in the ground of the monastic tradition. Far from evading the folly of the cross, these ideals give radical recognition to God's transcendence by requiring from the religious a readiness to follow the call of God's will wherever it may lead, to have in grim practice no abiding city--not even in the. stability of the monastery. The specific details of the life of religious-- like the life of all Christians--will be shaped by the demands of individual or communal vocation; but they will fail in their dominant purpose if they do not make visible and convincing a rugged and radical Christian nonconformity to the standards of this world. It hardly need be pointed out that the line between these vocations are fluid and that each represents by its special witness factors which are essential in every Christian life. Thus every Christian must," in some measure, lead a life both of humanly meaningful ac-tivity and of supernaturally motivated renunciation; laymen may be entrusted, temporarily or on a part-time basis, with properly clerical tasks, such as those of the CCD instructor or of the subdeacon at a high Mass. The celibate priests of the West and the active congre-gations of men and women (most of whom, under Rahner's definitions, would seem to qualify as "clerks regular") unite in their lives in permanent fashion the apostolic mission of the cleric and the eschatological witness of the religious. In a host of situations, layman, cleric, and religious are called to collaborate in the achievement of the same end--that is, the total educa-tion of Catholic youth or the solution of social problems. And by the unity of laity, clergy, and religious, not only in the sacramental unity of worship but in their visible collaboration in the life of the Church, the Church achieves even at the levels of everyday moral and social existence a quasi-sacramental showing-forth ofthe inner meaning of all Christian life--divine love, ever filling the whole world and ever pointing beyond it to the world to come. Roles in the Church VOLUME 24, 1965 533 KEVIN D. O'ROURKE, O.P, Revising Canon Law for Religious Father Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P., is Dean of Theology at the Aquinas In-stitute of Theology; St. Rose Priory; Du-buque, Iowa 52002. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 534 What* policies and principles should govern the forthcoming revision of the canon law for religious? What changes must be made in the law to enable religious to better accomplish their role in the work of renewal within the Church? Changes in law should be made only for the betterment of the common good, and they should flow from principles which are invoked to correct weaknesses or problems in organization or activity which are harming the efforts directed toward the com-mon good. An honest appraisal of the present day struc-ture of religious communities, of their apostolic efforts, and of the attitude many religious have toward law, re-veals problems and attitudes which seriously endanger the efforts religious are making to sanctify themselves, the Church, and its people. By openly recognizing and ac-knowledging these attitudes and problems, the principles which will correct and solve them may be found; and these are the principles which should govern the revi-sion of the canon law for religious. ~ Even the casual observer realizes that one grave prob-lem in religious communities is a lack of respect for the law. Canon law, and the canon law for religious in particular, has fallen into ill repute. In the period since World War lI, a spirit has :arisen which seeks to belittle Church law. By many, canon law is equated with "mere 1.egalism"; and a dichotomy between the law of the Spirit and the written law of the Church is often proclaimed or intimated. To a great extent, this attitude flows from, or at least coincides with, a general spirit of disrespect toward all authority. But on the other hand, there seems to be a definite shortcoming in the canon law itself which may occasion and promote this attitude. ¯ This is the text of a talk given to a group of midwest religious canonists at a two-day conference held at the Passionist Retreat House in Detroit,' Michigan during Christmas week, 1964. Adaptation of religious communities to present-day mentalities and needs of the apostolate is another serious problem calling for revision of the law for religious. One doubting that the organization and apostolate of religious communities are attuned to successful modern apostolic activity, need only consult the writings of the last four popes. Time and time again, they have called for adaptation of the-structure, mentality, and apostolic activities in line with the needs of contemporary so- Ciety and with the mind of the founder.Just as the Church, through Vatican .Council II, seeks to evaluate and update its o~ganization and activity, so religious communities should bring about themodifications which will enable them to do their work well in the contempo-rary world. With the Church, religious.communities are in need of apostolic renewal. The modifications in organization and apostolic ac-tivity which, religious communities .must make can be ~uccessfully accomplished only through a revision in the law. True, a 9hange in attitude has already occurred in many religious and many religious communities. Some individuals and some religious groups have al-ready made. the adaptations which renewal demands. But the common good, the good of all communities and all individuals, can be assured only through a change in the law. Therefore, religious communities will not be truly renewed, nor will they fulfill their potential in the Church, until their laws are renewed in accord with the needs of the apostolate. A consideration of.the cultural .pattern presently ex-isting in the United States reveals another distressing situation. Religious are not influencing the minds of men as strongly and dramatically as they should. In former times, religious were. among the intellectual leaders of. their society. Often they were the best edu-cated people in the community; even if their thought was rejected, it was at least well known. Those who did not agree with them were aware of them; and before acting contrary to the opinion of the ~eligious thinkers they had to attack and, .if possible, refute their opinion. Hence many and bitter arguments and disputes arose between secular and religious figures. Today, however, our teaching.draws no such attacks; it can be ignored as the doctrine of people who are not in touch with the times. SecuIar thinkers.n0 longer bother to refute the thought 0f religious thinkers; they merely declare it ir-relevant to the important matters of life.~ The point is not to deprecate or criticize in any way the energy, zeal, or apostolic spirit of" the many dedicated religious 1 Hence the theme of Dietrich von Bonhoeffer in Letters From Prison and of John A. T. Robinson. in Honest to God. 4. + Rcoising Canon VOLUME 24i 1965 ÷ ÷ Keoin D. O' Rourke, O~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS men and women working in America today. But on the other hand, if we reflect that there are about two hun-dr~ d thousand religious men and women working for Christ in the United States, it'hardl~ seems that we are influencing the Catholic and non-Catholic community as'we should. We seem to be able to preserve the faith, but we are weak when it comes to enriching it or spread-ing it. In order to solve these briefly outlined problems which tend to destroy the vitality of religious communities and seriously hamper their apostolate, three principles must govern the revision of canon law for religious. Integration with Theology The first principle i~: Remove the de facto separation between canon law and theology. Competent theologians and canon lawyers, while allowing canon law its own rules of interpretation, always. recognized that canon law is an integral part of theology and, as such, subject to the more general principles of that science. In other words, competent Scholars have never forgotten the need for integration between these two sciences. Nonetheless, even these scholars have not insisted a!way~ upon this integration in practice, nor have they sufficiently im-pressed it upon others. Reintegrating canon law with theology does not mean ~hat we should change our present formof Church law or the rules of interpreation. Stating the finis legis in the law, or changing the brief manner in which it is now stated, would be a mistake. Our system of writing and interpreting laws has been worked out through trial and .error over th~ centuries; to tamper with it now would cause confusion and lead to further disrespect for the law. The reintegration of canon law and theology should be accomplished through a process of education. Pre-ceding the Code there should be a statement explaining canon law not as a burden but as an instruction given. us by the Mystical Body of Christ to lead us closer to our divine Savior. Our law should be explained as a fulfill-ment, rather than a limitation, of Christian liberty. In the Code itself, especially in the section De religiosis, there should be some kind of statement that canon law legislates only the minimum, the safeguards of Christian activity. A statement such as the following from Hiiring, for example, might serve to make clear in what sense observance of canon law fits the total Christian life. As lbve implies obedience, so it implies l~(w, and love and law are essentially and mutually interchangeable. Obedience of love is surely more comprehensive than mere legal obedience for" mere observance of law is the lowest degree of obedience. Mere legal obedience.is not yet in the shadow of love. External laws are no more than universal regulations and therefore basically only minimum requirements. Universal rules cannot in fact even prescribe what is highest and best, since the best is not universal and cannot be demanded of men universally. On the contrary love by its very nature strives for the highest and best and seeks the most perfect manifestation of its ideals in action. How can one who does not fulfill the minimum requirements of law progresstoward that which is higher and better? Since the minimum requirements ar~ basic for the fulfillment of the law of love, love may never violate or ignore the law. At the same time one who truly loves may not remain'at the lowest level of obedience and be satisfied with the bare legal minimum.' Moreover,' whenever fitting,' tracts of canon law should be introduced by theological texts, whether Biblical, systematic, or pastoral, . which clearly point out the inti-mate relationship between the observance of some par-ticular law and growth in the spiritual life. To maintain that the Code of Canon Law is directed to the salvation of souls when it seldom mentions spiritual motives or values is rather inconsistent. Just as the Fifth Book of the Code of Canon Law is more clearly understood within a spiritual framework by reason of the pastoral imroduction from the Council of Trent, so other tracts of the Code could be given greater definition and .pur-pose through Similar introductions. The encyclicals, the councils, the works of the Fathers and great' theologians, provide ample sources for these texts; and using them in the Code would demonstrate the historical .continuity of our present-day law. Placing these readings before the various tracts on law may not appeal to the legal mind, and there is little reason why it should. But we must realize that canon law cannot be judged only by legal standards alone; canon law is also pastoral theology, and therefore it must be presented in a way which makes it good theology as well as good law. . Through this approach, basically one .of education, many canonical instruments could be restored to proper perspective. The relationship of superior to subject, one that should be founded upon the relationship of Christ and Hi~ friends, would become clearer; the tensions between Secular and re.ligious clergy could be resolved in favor of a more effective apostolate; the observance of the vows would be more meaningful and make a much greater contribution to charity; the place of prayer ond the apostolate in the life of the individual religious could be more clearly understood and effec-tively realized; and many other p~oblems of policy and practice which trouble re.ligious communities today would at least be alleviated. ~ Bernard Hiiring, C.Ss.R., The Law of Christ (Westminster: New-man, 1961), w 2, p. 94. ÷ ÷ ÷ Revising ~,anon VOLUME 24, 1965 537 K~in D. O'Rourk~, O.P. REVIEW FOR RE£1GIOUS. 5~8 ¯ :$ubsidiarity. The second, principle might be stated as .follows: Apply the principle o[ subsidiarity to the government of religious communities. This principle requires, posi-tively, that the society which is the Church offer to the individual the help toward his goal which he Cannot provide for .himself, and negatively, that the Church so far as it is a society restrict itshelp and control in the areas where the individual carl provide for himself (W. Bertrams, S.J., "De pringipio subsidiaritatis in. iure canonico," Periodica, 46.[1957], p. 13). Abraham Lin-coln put the same thought this way: "Never let govetn-ment do for some one what he can do for himself"; and Pope John XXIII put this forward as one of the basic principles of good government (Pacem in Terris, n. 141). Clearly, insofar, as the Church is a governing body, this principle 'should be paramount, Religious communities, therefore, since they are legal .individuals, should be allowed'to direct and provide for themselves, insofar as is possible. Application of this principle does not mean that re-ligious communities should be completely auton6mous. There must b~ some contact and control exercised by the Holy See, especially over those communities that are directly subject to it, or else the common good would suffer. But the extent to which this control is now exer-cised far exceeds, the needs of good and responsible government. Consider, for example, the regulations in regard to alienation' and debts, the extent of the Quin-quennial Report and other regulations which through the O years have tended to centralize the governnient of religious in the Congregation of Religious. The concept of collegiality and the formation of na-tional episcopal conferences.are a reflection of the prin-ciple of subsidiarity and the fact that the Church is beginning to recognize the contribution of this principle toward good government. Applying this principle to the government of religious communities would pave the way for a national conference of religious .superiors which would have jurisdiction to coordinate and direct the apostolate of religious in accord with the general directives of the Holy See. Through a conference of religious superiors possessing jurisdiction, religious could be represented .in the national episcopal confer-ence; common pr6jects, such as testing and formation centers for candidates could be established; norms for combining existing theological, schools could, be out-lined; and the'rivalry and lack of contact which at present exists among religious communities to the detri-ment of the apostolate could be removed or at least alleviated, Even more important is the applicati~)n of this prin-ciple at the provincial level: In too many communities, especially in communities of religious women, there is a centralization of power in the provincial superior. In these communities, local superiors are not~ allowed to grant dispensations from the constitutions even for good reasons; and all appointments and permissions, even the more insignificant ones, are made by the .provincial su-periors. Local superiors, often mature people who would govern well, .are restricted to doing nothing that is "not in the book." Examples of the lack of subsidiarity are too well known to need repetition. Perhaps in times past there might have been some justification for such a con-centration of power; all. religious were not educated, and imprudent permissions might have resulted if too much power had been given ~o local superiors. But to-day, the religious vocation demands a degree of ma-turity in each individual; this maturity can be fostered 'and will. flourish only if subsidiarity is expressed in the general and particular laws for religious. Professional Competence The third principle is:. The active religious in the modern wo~ld must be a competent professional. This principle is perhaps the most important and far reach-lng of the three. Implicit in this principle is the need for a new mentalit~ insofar as the apostolic life of re-ligious is concerned. Moreover, realizing this principle requires that the formation o~ religious for the aposto- !ate be so ordered that greater stress is placed upon maturity than upon conformity. In the .past, profes-sional competence and the corresponding professional mode of organization which must be pre~ent to.produce professional competence were not so important because the society in which the Church existed and even flourished was not dominated by professionally compe-tent people. But now it is; the people who control ideas, the people with whom religious must compete for men's minds, are professionally competent and work in an atmosphere where the professional mode of organiza-tion dominates. Unless the Church integrates profes-sional competence into the total concept of the religious life, there will be no true adaptation of religious com-munities to meet the apostolic challenge of our times. Stressing the need for professional competence does not mean that religious should be judged solely by the technical exceUence with which they teach or. carry out. ¯ the apostolate. We all know that God accomplishes more through the virtuous than through those who are merely technically competent. No~ does it mean that all. re- Revising Canon. + ÷ ÷ Kevin ' D . O' Rour lw, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 ligious must have die ability-to do their professional work as well as their non-Catholic counterpart. But stressing professional competence does mean that we must adapt ~ new mentality, a mentality which will allow those who are able to. do so to excel as professionMs in their apostolic activities and thus have a much greater influence upon the minds of men.3 The mentality of professional competence is con-trasted to the present apostolic mentality of religious organizations by Joseph Fichter, S.J., in the following mann'er:4 Organization involves: 1. centralized leader-ship, 2. emphasis on procedure, 3. simp.lification of tasks, 4. little initiative, 5. corporate r.esponsibility, 6. imper-sonal relations, 7. ascribed status, 8. service to the system. The professional mode of organization, on the other hand, requires: I. leadership of expertness, 2. variabil-ity of proceduresl 3. totality of tasks~ 4. broad initiative, 5. personal responsibility, 6. close colleague relations, 7. achieved status, 8. service to the client (Religion as an Occupation; Notre Dame Press, 1961, p. 224). In other words, if someone becomes a competent professional in an apostolic religious community in America today; he or she does it in spite of the system not through and because of it. The apostolic spirit of the religious group. centers more .upon conformity than upon initiative. For this reason we have remained upon the fringe of those who influence society; at times one of our members may move into the influence group, that group of profes-sionals who are respected for their ability and wisdom; but we must all admit that this is not the ordinary case. What part of changing the apostolic mentality of re-lig! ous could canon law play? Changing a mentality, it seems, is accomplished only through non-legal means, for 'example, through an enthusiastic movement. Yet, any change in attitude or mentality, if it is to make a stable and lasting contribution to the common good, must be incorporated into the law. Enthusiasm may sur-vive and contribute to the common good for one genera-tion or two, but only through the law can we perma- 8 Notice ihat the need for a mentality of professional competence is confined to the apostolic effort of the community. The bureau-cratic mentality, or the stress.upon conformity, is necessary insofar as the common life is coficerned or else chaos would result in the ~ommunity. There will always be, therefore, a tension between con-formity and initiative in the life of an active religious, but it seems that in our time, the tendency to conformity has overcome initiative ¯ and hence apostolic life is severely hampered. ~Father Fichter states ihat the re.ligious mode of organization resembles thd bureaucratic, but in using this word he does not in-tend to convey the pejorative overtones that this word implies. Bu-reaucratic organization is necessary and good for some societies ~nd their activities but not, it seems, for the religious society in its apostolic effort. nently, maintain the benefits of enthusiastic movements. The liturgical movement, for example, changed the thinking of many in regard to the liturgy; But ~he change in mentality was 0nly put into .practical effect through the new law on the liturgy promulgated by Vatican Council II. Through ~he law, then, it must,be made clear that the training of religious should be so designed as to develop maturity.Supeiiors and subjects alike should be instructed in the need for personal responsi-bility and the development of initiative. By framing legislation which allows for~the development of profes-sional competence through rather than in spite of re-ligious life, we will most certainly assure that religious will adapt to present day needs of apostolic activity. This thinking is not foreign to the mind of the Holy Father. When speaking ab6ut renewal in the Church, Pope Paul VI said: Let us repeat once again for our common admonition, and profit, the Church will rediscover her renewed youthfulness not so much by changing her exterior laws as by interiorly assimilat-ing her true spirit of obedience to Christ and accordingly by ob-serving those laws which the Church prescribes for herself with the. intention of following Christ. Here is the secret of her renewal, here her exercise of perfec-tion. Even though the Church's law might be made easier to observe by the simplification of some of its precepts and by placing confidence in the liberty of the modern Christian with his greater knowledge ofhis duties and his greater maturity and wisdom in choosing the means to fulfill them, the law neverthe-less retains its essential binding force (Ecclesiam Suam). The significant words here are: "the Church's law might be made easier to observe by. placing confidence in the liberty of the modern Christian with his greater knowledge of his duties and his greater maturity and wisdom in choosing the means to fulfill them . " This principle is not restricted to lay people; it applies to religious as well. By stressing this note of personal responsibility in all laws which concern the discipline and training of religious, significant progress will be made in forming the type of apostle who will win the world for Christ. Arguing for the adaptation and implementation of this principle does not in any way mitigate the need for ready and prompt obedience to the mind of Christ; rather it increases it. Nor does this principle signify a departure from the traditional interpretation which pictures religious obedience as a conformation of the intellect as well as of the will of the subject to the intel-lect and will of the superior who takes the place of Christ. Neither does it propose a false dichotomy be-tween law and love as motives for observing the law, as some do. Nor does it naively imply that religious should 4- ÷ Reoising t~anon Law VOLUME 24, 1965 determine what course their training should take, as though those who are .in the process of training are al-ready mature religious. Rather, this principle seeks to stress that in the process of training, maturity and ini-tiative must be tho?oughly developed so that active re-ligious can carry the message of Christ in a way that will have great impa~t upon the world. In a word, the prin-ciple of professional competence opts for a system of formation and an active apostolate which will feature religious maturity integrated with religious obedience, an apostolate and formation that will depend more upon the initiative and personal responsibility of the individual religious [or fulfillment and perfection than upon conformity to the group or direction by a su-perior. These, then, are the three principles which seem to be basic in any meaningful revision of canon law. If the revisers o~ the Code are interested in putting patches upon an aged and venerable, garment, then principles of revision need not be discussed or applied; but if they wish to face the problems of religious life and the apostolate head-on, .if they wish to update and adapt canon law to modern needs and situations, then princi-ples such as those stated above should be used when re-vising the canon law for religious. Kevi. D. O'Rour/~, OJ). REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS MOTHER M. ANGELICA,'P.C. One Heart and One Soul At the third session of the Vatican Council, a sum-mary of the Council document on religious had only a very passing reference to contemplative orders. These brief paragraphs reiterate the necessity of renewal and rejuvenation in these institutes. The fact that we are not engaged in the active life does not exempt us from necessary and careful examination and reevaluation of certain secondary details in. the general structure ofour life. Before we accomplish tl~is renewal, we must first of. all realize that when the Church speaks she is speaking to her contemplative religious as well as to the faithful. Thechanges in the Mass and the like should be made not merely to show our obedience but that we may reap those abundant fruits Which these changes seek to pro-mote. The reluctance Of cloistered communities to com-ply with the directives and ~changes promoted by the -Holy See seems to reflect a certain misunderstanding of the nun's place in the Church. Because of long-stand-ing privileges and constitutions, nuns fail to realize that the changing mind of the Church must affect them as well as it affects the laymen. In their rightful place as the loving heartof Holy Mother Church, they should be solicitously alert to her need of them as a power-house of prayer and of vigorous activity loving God and their neighbor With all the strength and talents at their command. Contemplative life is completely penetrated by di-vine charity, which inspires its actions and rewards its effbrts. In a world of turmoil, we are to be the example of the spirit and love of the first Christians.A nun filled with love cannot help'but show that love; "and this love wil! foster in the monastery a beautiful family spirit a family spirit which makes each sister feel loved and free to love in return. Where love governs a monastery and union with God is the ideal of all who live there, for-malism and regimentation are' washed away by the h,ealthy lifestream of common charity. What exactly is the family spirit, and why is it so The Reverend Mother M. Angel-ica, P.C., is the ab-bess of Our Lady of the Angels Monas-tery; Route 4--Box 66 Old Leeds Road; Birmingham, Ala-bama 35210. VOLUME 24, 1965 ÷ ÷ Mother M. Angelica, P.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS different from prevailing, conditions in many monas-teries? What changes can be made that would be com-mon to all contemplative orders while leaving to each its own distinctive spirit and aim? This article is a fam-ily project in which each nun has made a contribution in some way, and the following suggestions are the re-sult of this common effort to open the windows and let in the fresh air. Although a monastery is governed by the superior and her council, all professed nuns--at least, solemnly professed--should share in that govern-ment. When this is the case, the nuns learn to take their rightful place in the community as mature and intelli-gent women, using all their mental and physical re-sources to aid the abbess and help relieve her in some measure of her many burdens and to share her respon-sibilities. There are .many advantages to this .arrange-ment; for example, a strong bond of unity ties the nuns together and unites them as true.daughters of the mother God has given them; warm bonds of friendship and understanding prevail where sisters feel that their sug-gestions and opinions are appreciated and valued; obedience is made more reasonable and easier when the nuns know they are all pulling together for a common good; they feel that the monastery belongs to them as theirhome--as in truth it does (this realization should do away with the necessity of asking permission to ob-tain needed articles, personal or otherwise, from the common store--they are entitled to this trust and free-dom). The family spirit must embrace the whole world but especially members of the active orders. In religious life we are not competitors. When we begin to think that one life is higher and another lower, we have failed in our concept of the Mystical Body. We all belong to the same religious family; we all have the same general aim; namely, personal sanctification and the salvation, of souls. The means We employ are different, .but we a~e still one.The contemplative nun must be aware of the sacrifices and hardships of her brothers and. sisters in Africa, in China, and in other mission territories, and in the hospitals, schoolrooms, and missions of her own country. What affects them affects her Spouse, and this must be of great importance to her. Only then will she be able to make her own sacrifices with greater gener-osity in order to provide the ammunition needed by those in the front lines. The active order sister, too, must realize that the contemplative nun has not chosen :the easiest life buta life that demands many sacrifices and. much love--not only to praise, love, and adore God, but in order to obtain for her other sisters many graces so they can better fulfill their vocation in the active life. .The general financial condition of the monastery should be discussed, with all chapter members so that they can intelligently practice poverty. When familiar with this condition, they will use needed articles in their respective work with greater care and economy. ¯ When all work is rotated fi:~quently, the nuns become aware of one another's, prob.lems and difficulties. This rotation.of work helps the superior to brin.g out in her daughters their abilities and talents--talents they never realized existed. If each nun is ieft freedom to fulfill her work in her. own way, even though it ma~ be differ-ent from everyone else's, the superior will help greatly in developing her personality and dignity as an indi-vidual. The superior of any monastery carries a great respon-sibility. She must not .so much command as.request, and this request must be given With love.She must lead, cajole, persuade, and direct her daughters through love, ever keeping in.mind their dignity as spouses of Christ. ¯ She should give them the opportunity, at lectures or chapters, to have round table discussions whe~:e ideas can be exchanged and suggestions encouraged. The nuns should be allowed to r~ad periodicals in regard to changes in world conditions,, new r.eligious. trends, and world crises. They should be kept abreast of the times and not allow themselves to become com-pletely .isolated. Recendy, major superiors were asked for observations and sugges.tions toward the renewal of canon law for religious. We were asked in what areas we thought re-ligious life needed study, discussion, clarification, and adaptation. The following are a few of our observations and I am sure there are many more that other com-munities will have: (1) Why could not all the major superiors of the con-templative orders meet--Carmelites, Dominicans, Poor Clares, and so forth--and discuss one another's needs and difficulties? Even though each order hasa different founder, aim, and spirit, we still have the same goal; and we could benefit one another by an exchange of ideas in the basic things common to all. (2) It' would be good to have some law requiring the 'orders to re-evaluate their-constitutions and directories every ten or fifteen years; and this should be done with + all the chapter members of .that community giving + opinions and suggestions. Many of the customs which ÷ we hold dear have become outdated and create among One Heart and ¯ young aspirants a feeling of tension and restraint, one Soul. Thege customs were beautiful and had great meaning when they were originally instituted, but the life of a vOLUME 24, 196s young girl in the world today is so different from what. 545 .÷. ÷ ÷ Mother M. Angelica, P.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 546 it was a century ago that certain customs have lost all meaning. (3) Most of our monasteries have major papal encl0, sure and all changes must be Approved by Rome. But climate and .local custom sometimes make it necessary for one monaster~ to make. changes that another would not need. It would be a tremendous help if some parts of constitutions could.be changed with the permission of the local ordinary, who knows that monastery and its problems. (4) The Sacred Constitution On. the Liturgy states that with the permission of their competent superior the nuns may say the Divine Office in English. With the English Office and the high school education that most aspirants. have, why is it necessary to retain the class of lay sister? Class distinction and rank have no place among those striving to imitate the first Christians who were one heart and one soul. (5) Many a local ordinary would no doubt be grateful if the. abbess or prioress had the faculty to grant per-mission for her daughters to go to the dentist, doctor, or hospital. New advances in medicine and treatments make it more necessary today for cloistered nuns to make trips outside the monastery than it was a century ago. (6) The greatest thing a superior can do for her com-munity is to make sure there is someone qualified to take her. place. There can be great danger when one superior is allowed to stay in office over a long period of. time; on the other hand, forcing an upheaval in a small community, every Six years can also be .detrimental. Set-ting a definite term .of years for one person in office seems to infringe upon the freedom of the nuns to vote, as mature women, for the superior tliey wish. Postula-tion and application to ihe Holy See seem to be extraor-dinary barriers which, influence voting. With periodic visitations, injustices could be handled when they arose mwithout influencing the nuns in either direction. This is a prbblem p.revalent in small communities. (7) It is understandable why a priest is bound under pain of mortal sin in the recitation of the Divine Office (although the helpfulness of this has been questioned); but why nuns? The penalty for omitting a small part of the Divir.e Office seems greater than the offense. A nun must recite her Office out of love, in a spirit of adora-tion, realizing that next to the Mass this is her most important work. A nun who is not imbued with this spirit is not really saying the Office but is only .pro-nouncing the word~, and the penalty of mortal sin will never give her the zeal she lacks. By the same token, the penalty of excommunication for breaking the enclosure in a minor point seems high. Again--the enclosure must be kept out of love. (8) Major. superiors should understand that their. nuns are daughters and not subjects.They must be treated as m~ture women with the right to an explana-tion of a command or request. This does not mean that they must have an explanation of every request made, but superiors should no~ resent giving hn' eXplanation if it is asked; a nun does not fail in obedi~nce.because she does not .understand. (9) The public accusation of faults, commonly called "chapter," seems to need some type of revision. The weekly recital of faults against rules and customs seems to have lost some ofits effectiveness; it hasbecome a routine exercise, that arouses little enthusiasm or inter-est. Unless public s~andal is involved, the minor fail-ures of religious ~hould be corrected by the superior or novice mistress in their lectures or private interviews. (10) It is becoming more difficult' to get vocations to the contemplative orders. It may be because young girls who feel they.have a vocation have no contact with us. Since letters can be very misleading in determining "a vocation, it may be. of help. to the order and to the aspirants if the nuns welcome them into ~h.e monastery enclosure on a specified day each year to give them a. better idea of the life, the monastery, and the nuns. An-other solution might be to have a representative of the monastery at the yearly vocation day p~ojects which many of the high schools conduct for their area. (11) Is it necessary to have age requirements for the election of officers? Is it not more important to stress capabilities? Here again, we must realize that young nuns are, for the most part, well educated and capable of handling responsibilities. (12) Extra devotional activities should be left to the individual nun and not be made compulsory by con-stitutional requirements. More emphasis Should be put on the Mags and the Divine Office as the focal point of the nun's spiritual life. (13) Excessive formulas at chapters for investment, profession, and so forth should be avoided. Often a novice finds these a real burden; and they leave her open to temptations, discouragement, and frustration. In-stead, the beauty of the religious life should be pre-sented to her so that ~he can prayerfully and gratefully accept this tremendous gift from God. We hope this article shows how many facets of our life need careful examination and .reevaluation not only that the nuns who live the life can do so with greater freedom and joy of heart but that those who consider living our life may find in it all. the means they need in this modern age to become great contemplatives. ÷ ÷ ÷ One Heart and One Soul VOLUME 24, 1965 547 CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. Poverty and Sanctification ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C., teaches the-ology at Holy Cr6ss College; 4001 Hare-wood Road, N.E.; Washington 17,D.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Oftentimes* we may have wondered why religious men and women have received as a kind of vested right the general title of "religious." Certainly, they are by no means alone in their practice and exercise of the worship of God; for this, as we know, is binding on the Church as a whole, on each and every member of the People of. God. It is established on the fact that all the faithful are consecrated to God by their baptism and have thereby received a share in the priesthood of the Lord Jesus ex; isting in power. Thus, their whole llfe is meant to be "consecrator~," ordained to cult, at least, understood in the broad sense; consequently, their entire life is meant to be reI!gious.1 Moreover, we know that there are per-sons who are not "i:eligious" in the usually accepted sense of this word but who spend more. time in their actual ~ worship of God than do those who are "religious." Yet only .those who have entered an institute in which the public profession of vows is made are called "religi0us.7 There is a rather special reason for this, admirably indi-cated by St. Thomas: "As stated above (q.141, a.1) that which is applicable to many things in common is ascribed antonomastically to that. to which it is applicable by way of excellence. Thus the name of fortitude, is claimed by the virtue which preserves the firmness of mind in regard to most difficult things, and the name of temperance by.that Virtue which tempers the greatest pleasures. Now religion as stated above (q.81, a.2; a.3, resp. 2) is a virtue by which.a man offers something to the service and worship of God. Therefore those who "give themselves up entirely to the ¯ This is the revised version of the second of six lectures that Father Schleck gave in the summer of 1962 to the Conference of Major Superiors of Women Religious of the United States. The first of the lectures was published in REvn~w FOR RELIClOUS, v. 24 (1965), pp. 161-87. 1 Pope Paul VI, Allocution on Religious LiJe, May 23, 1964, view FOR R~.mmtJs, v. 23 (196_4) p. 699. divine service, as offering a holocaust to God, are called religious antonomastically (or by special right).2 If we were to study the virtue of religion we would find that it is responsible not only for those acts which normally are its proper sphere, such as devotion or promptness in the service' 6f God or sacrifice or adora-tion, but also for those acts of other virtues which are commanded by religion's attitude and referred to it. Thus the acts of all the virtues, to the extent that they are referred to God's service and honor, become acts of the virtue, of religion. From this it follows that since a religious is one who devotes her whole life to the divine service, her whole life belongs to the exercise of the vir-tue of religion. It is a life in which every action is one of cult, one of worship, an act of her common priest-hood. It is for this reason that such a life is called the "religious life," and that those who embrace it are called by this special name. It is St. Gregory the Great who compares the religious consecration to a holocaustal offering: "When one vows something of himself to God, o. 2-2, q.186, a.l. "Admittedly, the doctrine of the universal.vocation of the faithful to holiness of life (regardless of their position or so-cial situation) has been advanced very much in modern times. This is as it should be, for it is based on the fact that all the .faithful are consecrated to God by their baptism. Moreover, the very necessities of the times demand that the fervor of Christian life should inflame souls and radiate itself in the world. In other words, the needs of the times demand a consecration of the world and this tasl~, pertains pre-eminently to the laity . However, we must be on our guard lest [or this very reason, the true notion o] religious life as it has tradi-tionally flourished in the Church, should become obscured. We must beware lest our youth, becoming confused while thinking about their choice of a state in life, should be thereby hindered in some way from having a clear and distinct vision of the special function and immutable importance of the religious state within the Church . for'this stable way of life, which receives its proper character from profession of the evangelical vows, is a perfect way of living accord-ing to the example and teaching of Jesus Christ. It is a state of life which keeps in view the constant growth of charity leading to its final perfection. In other ways of life, though legitimate in them-selves, the specific ends, advantages, and functions are of a temporal character. "On the other hand, right now it is of supreme importance for the Church to bear witness socially and publicly. Such witness is pro-claimed by the way of life embraced by the religious institutes. And the more it is stressed that the role of the laity demands that they live and advance the Christian life in the world, so much the more necessary is it for those who have truly renounced the world to let their example radiantly shine forth. In this way it will clearly be shown that the kingdom of Christ is not of this world. "Hence it follows that the profession of the evangelical dounsels is a super-addition to that consecration which is proper to baptism. It is indeed a special consecration which perfects the former one in-asmuch as by it, the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone" (Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life, May 23, 1964 [italics mine]; REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS, V. 23 [1964], pp. 699--700). ÷ ÷ ÷ Poverty and Sanctification VOLUME 24, 1965 549 ÷ Charles d. $chleck, C.$,C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 550 and yet retains something for himself, it is a sacrifice on his. part. But when one vows to God all that he has, all that he lives, all that he relishes, then we have a holo-caust, which in Latin means all incense." s The reference which St. Gregory has in mind is unmistakable. The holocaust was the sacrifice par excellence [or the Jews in the Old Testament. It was the most perfect, the most excellent that could be offered to God. And the meaning of this action was symbolic. It indicated that God was sovereign, that man owed Him his complete and entire subjection. Thevictim offered was considered as going up in flame and smoke tO Yahweh. It was a sign or symbol or a kind of "saci'ament" of what was supposed to be the interior attitude of the donor, .of his inner worship, of soul, of the. complete gift and surrender of self to the Lord. The entire victim was consumed on the altar so that it might denote that the whole person of the donor was giving itself to God for the purpose of union in life.4 What was offered to Yahweh was life, not death; and it was offered joyfully and freely. The New Testament, since it is the completion and fulfillment of the Old, asks an even more perfect act of sacrifice and holocaust. And this is found especially in the religious profession which has not only an individual dimension but a christic and ecclesial dimension as well. It is an act which signifies the complete dominion which God has over" the whole of creation; and it is an act which signifies most perfectly the act of redemption par excellence, the paschal mystery. The two elements which are found in this holocaustal act of the Lord--the spirit which prompted him to undergo it, namely, divine charity or love for the Father and men, and the human nature in and through which this act was undergone-- are found also in the religious profession whereby one dedicates and consecrates hi~s or her entire life and per-son to the service of God in such a way that this person and life pertains to o~cially accepted or public cult. The religious vocation is a call or an invitation from God, an act by which He through a special communica-tion of His salvific and loving mercy stoops down, so to speak, and touches certain persons in the Church, en-abling them or appointing them to exercise a symbolic and sacramental ministry or dial~onia in the Church, His Body. They are called to be a sign of the Person, not merely individual, but also social, corporal, the Body- Person which is the Church in search for God; they are called to be a sign of the heavenly Jerusalem, the bride who has been adorned not by the artistry of men, but from heaven, by an artistry that comes from above, wait- 8 In Ezechielern, Hom. 8, bk. 2, P.L., 76, 1037. ~ 1-2, q.102, a.3, ad 8 and 9; see also Lv 1:1-17. ing for the Lord with the eagerness of a bride ready .to meet her husband.5 The religious proIession, in its turn, is merely a re-sponse to this invitation implying the gift and complete surrender of one's person to the Lord by way of public consecration. This profession is merely' an,outward ex-pression or manifestation or epiphany of an inward love. It is the public and ritual revelation' of the most fundamental duty and response which the creature can make to the Creator. For by it more than by" any other merely human act we tell God that He is God, that we are His creatures, that we are at His complete disposal, that His will is the law and center of our life. Thug, at the basis of this ritual and holocaustal gift there must lie a most intense activity of' the virtues of love and religion especially, but also of the ~other virtues as well, since the infused virtues grow and operate with proportionate in-tensity.~ When we ask ourselves what this profession involves, the answer, is quite clear. It involves the living of the common life (for those who are religious in the strict sense of this word) and the .observance of the evangelical counsels under vow3 There is a long history behind this de facto ~ituation, one which we cannot go into in the present article. Suffice it to say that in the early Church one of the marks that Was characteristic according to the idyllic presentation of the Acts of the Apostles (2:42) was the sharing of things in common. Just exactly what this implied is not certain, but most probably it was nothing more than a deep concern and spontaneous generosity in regard .to the material needs of the members of the Christian community. The earliest form of asceticism-- implying consecration also--seems to have been the practice of virginity for the sake of the kingdom of God.s While a kind of apostolic poverty was practised from the v.ery beginning of the Church, still the stark message of the gospel: "Go sell what thou hast and give ¯ to the poor," did not receive any "specialized" response until the time of St. Antony (d. 356). A~ first the practice was .personal, that is, not pract!sed in community, as was .also true of virginity; and it was characterized by a spiritual joy, the hope of heaven, and trust and confidence and hope in the Lord. From a personal prac-tice aimed at bringing out the perfection of hope and ~Ap 21:2. e 1-2, q.66, a.2. ~ There are some few exceptions with regard to the demand of liv-ing dommunity life; for example, the Daughters of the Heart of Mary. See. Suzanne Cita-Malard, Religio~s Orders o! Women (New York: Hawthorn, 1964), p. 21. 8 1 Cot.7. 4- Poverty and Sanctification VOLUME 24, 1965 ultimately of charity, .it was soon transformed into a community af

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A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Review for Religious Volume 50, 1991 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis. Missouri 63108-3393 David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR REL~GOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright© 1991 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of R~wEw FOR RZL~G~OUS is also regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS begins its fiftieth year of publication with this issue. To celebrate, we are dedicating this entire issue to contemporary reflections on Ignatian spirituality, the spirituality that enlivened and in-spired the three founding editors--Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, and Ger-ald Kelly, all Jesuit priests. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has never been identified as the publication of a particular school of spirituality or of one religious-life tradition. In the vision of the founding editors, the journal was to serve all religious-life communities and at the same time to be a forum for the wide exchange of ideas and developments in the spiritual life and apostolic mission of the Church itself. Over the years all religious groups and spiritual-life traditions have been represented among the authors and through the arti-cles found in the pages of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The strength and the ap-peal of the journal have been in its broadening of our horizons for both understanding and developing our Catholic spiritual and apostolic lives. To use the imagery recalled in the title of this foreword, the authors and articles have given us various prisms through which we can view from various angles the Christian calling to be with Jesus in the bringing about of the reign of God. This issue, however, in one sense narrows that focus and centers on lgnatian spirituality, not just as a tribute to the founding editors, but also as a particular contribution to the celebration of the lgnatian anniversaries~50 years from the founding of the Society of Jesus and 500 years from the birth of Ignatius Loyola. The contribution which Ig-natius has made to the spiritual vitality of Christian life is especially evi-denced in the widespread retreat experience of laity, clergy, and religious according to the method of the Spiritual Exercises. At its beginnings, lg-natian spirituality played an important role in the Church renewal stimu-lated by the Council of Trent. In a similar way, since Vatican II the lg-natian tradition of discernment has been key to religious chapter renewal and choice of apostolic mission, in addition to personal and parish re-newal. Because of the widespread influence of this lgnatian tradition over the centuries on both the Christian devotional life and the de-velopment of religious-life forms, the decision was made to let this is- Review for Religious, Janua13,-February 1991 sue take its "Ignatian" shape from various unsolicited articles recently submitted for possible publication and from a few "classical" Ignatian articles reprinted from earlier issues. One of the founding editors, Father Augustine Ellard, S.J., provides us with an overall review of the elements of Ignatian spirituality; when the article was originally published in 1952, it was one of a series on vari-ous religious-life spiritualities. Two other articles drawn from early past issues deal with the meaning of the A.M.D.G. motto and its directional value for our living (written by Walter Ong, S.J.) and with the retreat movement as influenced by the Ignatian Exercises (written by Augustine Klaas, S.J.). Parmananda Divarkar, S.J., touches upon the apparent Ignatian para-dox between a growing sense of personal freedom and an ever more bind-ing loyalty to Christ and to his Church; he finds his reflections embod-ied in the former superior general of the Society of Jesus, Father Pedro Arrupe. In a similar way, William Barry, S.J., traces the development of a freeing experience in the self-and-God imagery of Ignatius as a possi-ble model for our own growth. In their two articles, David Townsend, S.J., and David Fleming, S.J., consider two different aspects of the lg-natian prayer tradition captured in the contemporary phrases of "find-ing God" and "centering." In two articles which specifically consider the Spiritual Exercises, John Wickham, S.J., introduces us to a deeper appreciation of the com-munal dimensions involved in the Ignatian Exercises, while Dr. Helen Murphy shares her experience of familiarizing people, particularly col-lege students, with the movements of the Exercises. William Barry, S.J., proposes an understanding of discernment as particularlyrelevant to the spiritual crisis of our time. Then in two articles reflecting on ministry today, David Fleming, S.J., points to the "secret" of an Ignatian way of ministering, and James Flynn, S.J., reviews the contemporary collabo-rative effort to share the lgnatian spirit among all the parties who make up a complex apostolic institution, such as a Jesuit university. What Ig-natian spirituality, especially in the form found in the Christian Life Com-munities, has meant to lay people is reflected in Mrs. Ligeia Cannon's article. How deeply intertwined Ignatian spirituality is with the Church's devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus inspires a fresh and invigorating re-examination by Edmond Grace, S.J. The book-review section, too, centers on Ignatian spirituality. Be-sides the reviews of three recently published books dealing with Ignatian spirituality, with the Spiritual Exercises in daily life, and with the per- Prisms sonal diary of the Jesuit John Eagan, Philip Fischer, S.J., provides a sum-mary introduction to the many publications of the Institute of Jesuit Sources since its beginning in the 1960s. He also calls our attention to some of the books dealing with Ignatian themes which have recently ap-peared or have been published consistently by certain other publishing houses. We hope that the authors and their articles in this unique issue pro-vide all our readers with a way to share in the celebration of the Ignatian anniversaries and the fiftieth anniversary of this journal. The editors also want to express our deep appreciation for the cover design produced by Thomas Rochford, S.J., and Michael Harter, S.J., which sets off and marks this issue as special. For those who may want to share this issue with others, individual copies can be ordered from the editorial offices in St. Louis at $3.50 plus $1.50 for postage and handling. Ad multos annos! David L. Fleming, S.J. Ignatian Spirituality Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Father Augustine Ellard, S.J., along with Fathers Adam Ellis, S.J., and Gerald Kelly, S.J., is a founding editor of REvw.w FOR RF~.~C~OUS. These three Jesuits re-mained the editorial board for the first fifteen years of the journal. The following article was published in the May 1952 issue. Although some of the militaristic stress of Ignatian spirituality would be mitigated by commentators today, the article re-mains an excellent summary of lgnatian principles. Father Ellard died on February 17, 1970--the last of the founding editors to die. I Ignatian spirituality is one of the modern schools. It acknowledges its jun-ior status, and gladly and gratefully accepts the rich inheritance that the older schools of Catholic spiritual tradition have put at its disposal. Fa-ther Dudon, in his St. Ignatius of Loyola, devotes the whole of chapter twelve to showing that just when he was working out his own ideas and ideals, St. Ignatius was under the influence of a rather large number of different currents of spirituality. The two principal instruments of his con-version were the Life of Christ by Ludolph of Saxony and the Lives of the Saints by Jacopo de Voragine. The former was a Carthusian, and the latter a Dominican. Ignatius often thought: "St. Dominic did this, St. Francis that; should not I also do as they?" As a matter of fact, for a time he thought of becoming a Carthusian. His favorite book through-out life was Thomas ~. Kempis; thus he put himself in debt to the "De-votio Moderna" that the Brothers of the Common Life and the monks of Windesheim were propagating. These three works were major forces in his formation. In addition to these he came under the personal influ-ence of the Benedictines at Montserrat, of the Dominicans with whom he lived at Manresa, of the Franciscans, of the Hieronymites, of the Cis-tercians, and probably of others also. It is the opinion of at least one man who has made a very special Ignatian SpiritualiO, / 7 study of Ignatian spirituality, namely Boeminghaus, that Ignatius fused two streams of spirituality which before him had come down in more or less parallel lines (Boeminghaus, Die Aszese der lgnatianischen Exerci-tien, 10-34). These traditions were those typified by Thomas fi Kempis and St. Francis of Assisi. During the later years of the Middle Ages the school of spirituality that was most fresh and vigorous was that of the Christian Renaissance, just referred to under the Latin name that it usu-ally goes by, namely, "Devotio Moderna." It marked a reaction against excessive speculation in piety and stressed the supreme importance of be-ing practical in one's religious life. In particular, it tended to put more method into the spiritual life and especially into the mental prayer that should animate and vivify it. In a word, one may say that its asceticism was that which we are all familiar with from the Imitation of Christ. The second stream was the Franciscan. It taught pious souls to take the Gospel literally, to seek evangelical simplicity and poverty, to look to Jesus in his human nature as he really existed in time and place, to respond to him as a person with love and devotion, to keep united with him as intimately as possible, and finally to live and work with him. Hence vitality, enthusiasm, and personal response characterize it, as prac-tical method and earnestness marked the other. Boeminghaus sums up his idea in suggesting that, to a great extent, St. Ignatius took his method from the Christian Renaissance group and the content of his system from the Franciscan tradition, and then united them in his own original way. In these pages Ignatian spirituality is taken to include not only the teaching of St. Ignatius himself, but also that of his order. For the saint's own doctrine the primary written sources are, besides his Spiritual Ex-ercises and the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, his Spiritual Jour-nal and some of his letters. Certain letters are very important and do not always get the attention they deserve by those who profess to present his doctrine, especially on mental prayer. Some of the letters, too, are equiva-lent to little didactic treatises; examples are the celebrated Epistle on Obe-dience and the letter on perfection to the students of the Society at Coim-bra (May 7, 1547). The spiritual teaching of the Jesuits is to be found partly, in certain official documents, for instance, letters of the Fathers General, and principally in the numerous published works of Jesuit as-cetical and mystical authors. Moreover, Ignatian spirituality is understood to comprise both that according to which Jesuits themselves try to live, including a certain con-ception of the religious life, of the vows, and especially of obedience, and also that which they propose for others who accept their instruction. Of course, it is not implied in presenting Jesuit ideals that all Jesuits Review for Religious, Janua~3,-February 1991 fully realize them. Basic Ideas The fundamental element in any school of spirituality is the theory or set of ideas underlying it and giving it life and direction. There must be some definite conception, for example, of God, of Christ, of human nature, and of the world. Different initial views on these fundamental re-alities or their relations necessarily give rise to different attitudes of will and divergent practical principles. St. Ignatius's mentality ,was not at all theoretical. Hence the general intellectual outlook in his system is simple and concrete. It is decidedly akin to that of the Synoptic Gospels rather than to St. John or St. Paul. It is not learned or theological, like, for instance, that of the Dominican Fathers or of the French Oratory. God is conceived mostly as a great and good king, as a grand mon-arch on the divine scale. It is emphasized especially that he is the crea-tor and hence the sovereign lord of all. St. Ignatius liked to refer to God as "His Divine Majesty," or "the Supreme Goodness." Among the di-vine attributes liberality is often singled out for mention. God is not thought of as "All in all" or as "Prime Mover" or as "the Divine Spouse." Christ, the God-man, is so rich in various aspects that no one person or group of his disciples could exhaust them all. Hence different schools of spirituality emphasize different phases of the great reality that he is. One could consider him as an adorable divine king sitting at the right hand of the Father, surrounded by a heavenly court of angels and saints, and receiving the homage of prayer and work from devout men on earth. Another could concentrate attention and affection above all on the scenes of the crib and the cross. A third, utilizing the concepts of theology, could make much of the Word Incarnate. St. Ignatius sees Christ mostly as the son of the divine King, and a king himself, but with a kingdom still to be conquered. He is a crusading king, at the head of his army, announcing his intentions, and inviting men to volunteer for service. The peculiar temper of a school may depend much on how it con-ceives human nature, to cite an historical example: ancient Alexandrine spirituality took intelligence rather than any other faculty to be the great thing about being human and accordingly it stressed the place of con-templation in the perfect life. The modern French School (Cardinal de B~rulle) is noted for its pessimistic conception of human nature and the effects upon itof original sin. St. Ignatius is characterized in this matter by a certain optimism and voluntarism. Human nature is indeed some- lgnatian Spiritualio, / 9 thing that needs chastening and training, but basically it is good and to be developed and put to work in the cause of Christ. If all creatures have their value, afortiori human nature has; in fact a human being is the end and purpose of all other things. Bodily strength is not t6 be diminished by indiscreet austerities, but to be brought under control and made ef-fective for service of God. The voluntarism of St. Ignatius is abundantly illustrated throughout the Exercises; he never ceases to refer to "what I wish." The Ignatian view of the world, too, is rather distinctive. Unlike many ascetics of old he did not look upon it as something evil to be fled from and shunned as much as possible. Nor like St. Bernard did he con-sider it better to avoid creatures than to use them. He did not share St. Francis's tender sentiment toward lowly creatures as brothers and sisters. St. Bonaventure and many holy people of the Middle Ages stressed the fact that all things are likenesses of God and should be looked upon as enlightening us about him and attracting us to him. St. Ignatius is more utilitarian and practical. For him everything in creation is a means to help people to work out their destiny; everything is to be regarded and treated solely with reference to that purpose. Corresponding to the ideas that one conceives of God and of human being will be one's ideal of perfection, that is, what one takes to be the completely right relation between God and us. Of course, the followers of St. Ignatius would be entirely submissive to their Creator and Supreme Lord. They would make God's ends their own and seek to achieve them by the means that God prefers. To the divine liberality they also respond with magnanimous liberality. Enrolled in the apostolic campaign with Christ, they endeavor to associate themselves as closely as possible with their great leader, to work with him as effectively as possible, and to imi-tate him in all respects, but especially in bearing poverty and humiliation nobly. Thus in everything they strive to love and serve the Divine Maj-esty. They conform their will altogether to that of God. "What I wish" becomes precisely what God wishes. Leading Principles Logically and naturally the basic ideas of a system of spirituality, in themselves more or less theoretical, give rise to practical principles in-dicating the appropriate action that should follow. The Divine Purpose and Plan The first and supreme principle of lgnatian asceticism is to seek the end for which God created one. "Man is created to praise, reverence, Review for Religious, Januat3,-FebruaO, 1991 and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul": the "First Principle and Foundation" in the Spiritual Exercises (23).(Quotations from the Exercises are from Louis J. Puhl's translation: the figures refer to the paragraph enumeration introduced by the editors of the critical edi-tion, Madrid, 1919.) As God begins, and we may also add, ends, with a certain definite purpose, so does St. Ignatius, and so too will his disciple. In fact, we are invited to intend just what God intends. Between God and us there are to be no cross-purposes. Moreover, and especially, one should seek, not a part of what God intends, but all of it, and to work it out always by using precisely the means and method preferred by God: what is this but to have just the same plan as God? Praising and reverencing God is substantially the same as glorifying him. Striving for the greater glory of God, "Ad majorem Dei gloriam," is very probably what the name of Ignatius is most apt to suggest to most people who have some knowledge of him. It is well known that when-ever St. Ignatius wrote or dictated he was constantly referring to the glory of God. In the little book of the Exercises the glory or praise of God is proposed as the end no less than 33 times. In the Constitutions of the Society the reference occurs about 135 times in 247 pages (the edi-tion of 1937; so Lawlor, "Doctrine of grace in the Spiritual Exercises," Theological Studies, 1942, 524). Nor was the expression always on his lips only. Seeking to make God better known and loved was ever in his thoughts and aspirations and supremely strong and dominant among them. Hence explicit and uninterrupted aiming at the greater glory of God is a conspicuous mark of Jesuit spirituality. A similar and more or less equivalent idea that was a great favorite with St. Ignatius and occurs still more frequently is "service." "Lo-cutions such as 'to the greater service of God,' 'to the greater service of God and the help of souls,' and their like, are repeated 157 times in the Constitutions" (Ibid). Serving God is, of course, the same as work-ing out his purposes or extending his glory, and it may be said to be cen-tral in Ignatius's whole conception of what our relations and activities toward God should be. Some religious leaders would no doubt put prayer or even mortification in the central place; for Ignatius, everything, prayer, recollection, self-abnegation, and so on, must be subordinated to the glory and service of God. Intending what God intends, seeking his glory, serving him, all this implies the need and use of means. St. Ignatius is broad enough to re-gard all created things as these means. He is insistent, too, that they are Ignatian Spirituality to be used neither more nor less than in the measure of their utility with respect to the final end. In no way or degree are they to be sought for their own sake as goals if they be pleasant and attractive, and no repug-nance to a useful but disagreeable means is to be allowed to interfere with using it. To the noblest end the best means is always to be chosen. Hence, another celebrated term and idea of Jesuit spirituality: namely, indifference. Association with Christ A second leading principle in St. lgnatius's system is "Associate yourself with Christ as closely as possible," or "Know, love, and imi-tate Christ as far as possible." The divine purpose and plan become more specifically the program of Christ. All Christians, of course, strive to as-sociate themselves with Christ, or to know and love and imitate him, but not all in precisely the Ignatian way, that is, in the spirit of "The King-dom" and the "Two Standards." As we have seen, St. Ignatius likes to consider Christ as "Our Lord, the Eternal King," a prince who is organizing a military expedition or crusade, to conquer the whole world and bring it back to loyal submis-sion to its divine sovereign. He summons all good people to become re-cruits in his army, to share his warfare, and then to rejoice with him in the fruits of victory. Both the royal commander and his soldiers are to live and fight under the same conditions of toil, combat, and suffering, that subsequently they may enjoy the same glories of victory together. The motives for enlisting are considered so attractive that nobody with good sense could decline; one would at least join the expedition as a com-mon soldier. But with this degree St. Ignatius is not at all satisfied. In view of the singularly magnetic qualities of the Leader and the ex-cellence of his cause, any with a spark of spirit about themselves will volunteer for distinguished service. They will be glad to show their love and affe~ztion by offering themselves for deeds of greater value beyond the call and strict.requirement of duty. They will i~ot wait to be attacked, but will themselves take the offensive and carry the war into the enemy's territo'ry ("acting against"). In particular they will first make a perfect conquest of their own interior foes, and aggressively overcome their own "sensuality and carnal and worldly love." They will profess themselves ready to imitate their great king in bearing humiliations and poverty. It is, therefore, a cardinal principle of Ignatian spirituality that to the sum-mons of Christ the King one should respond with all the magnanimity and generosity that one can muster. The eager new recruit soon gets lessons in the basic principles of strat- "12 '1 Review for Religious, January-Februat3, 1991 egy of the leader and also of the enemy chief. These are presented in the colorful exercise called "A Meditation on Two Standards." They are further developed and enforced in rules for the discernment of spirits. Lucifer's tactics are to be understood well, and since they are insidious one is ever to be on guard against his deceits. His general ruse is first to seduce people into an inordinate ques~ for riches and honor, these be-ing indifferent, and then into pride and finally into all vices. The inten-tion of Christ is just the contrary, that is, by example and precept he in-duces people to cultivate the spirit of poverty, or even actual poverty it-self, to conceive "a desire for insults and contempt," to acquire the virtue of humility, and thus then to attain all the different virtues. It will be noticed that St. Ignatius makes great efforts to have his discipline look especially to two aspects of Christ's moral character, namely, his pov-erty and his humility. In the Constitutions of his order and in certain of his letters he adds a third great virtue, that is, obedience. At least for the members of the Society this gets so much emphatic commendation and insistence that it is in a sense the point in which Jesuits are supposed to specialize. The Third Mode of Humility The "third mode of humility" is so highly characteristic of St. Ig-natius's whole doctrine and so important in itself that it should, it seems, be proposed as a third leading principle. It is presented in the Exercises as the last disposition to be sought in the ideal preparation of soul to dis-cern and choose the will of God in ordering one's life. It is also the high-est point that one could reach in conquering self, in achieving the vic-tory over one's disorderly and rebellious impulses, and in bringing them into that order which the divine plan and the program of Christ require. In the first mode of humility one submits to God in everything that is of serious obligation. The second degree disposes one so to submit as to avoid not only venial sin but also every defect of indifference and hence all positive imperfections (failure to carry out counsels). In the third kind "whenever the praise and glory of God would be equally served, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches, in order to imitate and be in reality more like Christ our Lord; ! choose insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors; I desire to be accounted as worthless and a fool for Christ, rather than to be esteemed as wise and prudent in this world. So Christ was treated before me" (Ex-ercises, 167). In a word, the perfect associate of Jesus makes oneself like him as far as possible, in all virtues, but especially, other considerations being equal, in poverty and humility. Evidently reverence and love and lgnatian Spirituality devotion to him can go no farther. Practically one prefers just what Christ prefers. To Love God A fourth leading principle in Ignatian spiritual training is "in all things to live and serve the Divine Majesty" (Exercises, 233). Every school of spirituality, merely to be Christian, must keep in the forefront the primacy of love. Some people have been disappointed that in express-ing the end for which God created the human person St. Ignatius did not mention love. True, it is not named there; but as surely and as fully as it enters into the divine plan and intention, it is there by implication. The constant desire, too, to choose only that which is most conducive to the end would involve much love for God. Even in meditating upon hell it is St. Ignatius's mind that love should have a certain priority: one prays "that if through my faults I forget the love of the eternal Lord, at least the fear of these punishments will keep me from falling into sin" (Exer-cises, 65). Throughout the second, third, and fourth weeks of the Exer-cises the prevailing general objective is to achieve, with an intimate knowl-edge and exact imitation, an ardent love for the God-man. The climax is reached in the celebrated "Contemplation to attain the Love of God" (Exercises, 230-237). Love shows that it is genuine by "deeds rather than words." It con-sists especially "in a mutual sharing of goods." On his part God pre-sents us with the whole gamut of creation, the totality of his external goods, and then in addition "the same Lord desires to give himself to" his beloved "according to his divine decrees." In grateful and gener-ous response one breaks out into the "Suscipe," relinquishing to the great Infinite Lover the complete possession and disposal of oneself. Every word in this magnificent exercise prepares one to love the ineffa-ble Divine Goodness literally with all the energies of one's soul and body and to demonstrate the truth of one's affection by really doing everything that pleases God and nothing that could displease him. Before working out the Constitutions for his Society St. Ignatius laid it down as the first principle thai it was not any exterior regulations that were to guide the order, but rather the interior law of love and charity that the Holy Spirit inscribes in the human heart. One of the Society's first rules is that its members should strive in all their acts to serve and please the infinitely good God for his own sake and with a view to re-paying his love and his immense liberality to them. Hope for rewards or fear of punishment are to have only a secondary role. God is to be loved in all his creatures, and conversely too they all in him. Review for Religious, January-FebruaO, 1991 A distinction has been drawn between two philosophies of love: one, called physical, emphasizes the tendency of love to base itself on unity and to proceed to ever greater union; it is seen for example, in the desire to be with one's parents or relatives. The other, termed ecstatic, empha-sized duality or division and the inclination in certain cases for a lover to go outside of oneself, as it were, or to give oneself up for the sake of the beloved; it is exemplified in the self-sacrifice of mothers for their children or of soldiers for their countrymen. Likewise attention has been called to two theological conceptions of charity: one, that of personal desire, we might say, considers the act whereby one wills the Infinite Good to oneself to be charity; so, for instance, St. Bonaventure. The other, that of pure benevolence, regards this act as belonging to hope and excludes such self-reference from charity; so Suarez; it would love God simply and absolutely for his infinite goodness or for himself. Corresponding to the'se two philosophical and theological views one may discern two general types of spirituality: the first centers around the direction of seeking greater union with God. It would find gospel war-rant in the text: "That they all may be one; that, as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I am in Thee, they also may be one in us" (Jn 17:21, Spencer version). It would like to save its life. A mystery of predilection for it is the Incarnation, the supreme union of God and man. It is illustrated in the lives and doctrines of Saints Augustine, Thomas, Teresa, John of the Cross, John Eudes, and many others. It makes for contemplation, and would like to "taste" or "enjoy" God. The second type of spirituality takes rather the direction of self-giving. It gets inspiration from the text: "Greater love has no one than this--that one should lay down one's life for one's friends" (Jn 15:13). It is glad to lose its life (Mk 8:35). Naturally the passion and death of Christ are favorite mysteries. Martyrdom would be its great consumma-tion. Representatives of this type are St. Francis of Assisi, Thomas a Kempis, Francis de Sales apparently, and certainly Margaret Mary Alaco-que. St. Th6r~se's idea of love was "to give all, nay, to give oneself!" Clearly with these latter, exemplifying the ecstatic tendency of love, and the pure-benevolence conception of charity, and the self-sacrificing type of spirituality, St. Ignatius and his school are to be ranged. The whole tenor of his spirit, with its climax in the third mode of humility, or in serving the Divine Majesty in everything, is not toward union, but serv-ice; not toward enjoyment, but sacrifice; not toward rest in God, but work for him (See De Guibert, ~tudes de Th~ologie Mystique, 239- 281). lgnatian Spirituality Union and Familiarity with God Finally, a fifth major principle in St. Ignatius's general method con-cerns union and familiarity with God. He was wont to formulate it in some such terms as these: "to seek God in all things"; "to find God in all things"; to be a pliable "instrument" in "the divine hand." In the Constitutions, IX, 2, St. Ignatius gives a rather long and par-ticularized account of what the ideal general of the Society should be. Naturally this picture is at the same time a characterization of the Saint himself. Among the qualifications required in a future general the first is as follows: "that he should be most fully united with God our Lord and familiar with him, as well in prayer as in all his actions." Similar prescriptions are made for others who are to be appointed to lesser of-fices (Epitome Instituti, No. 740). Thus the Founder showed his supreme concern that above all else members of the Society should cultivate the closest and most intimate union with God. The large place which work holds in the Jesuit ideal and the relations between prayer and work in it are highly characteristic. In no other school, as far as I know, is there so great a tendency to favor work at the expense of prayer. A deep foundation of mortification and solid vir-tue being presupposed, from, say, the novitiate, or some similar train-ing and including a thirty-day retreat, prayer is to be cultivated until one has the proper disposition, that is, the will to love God with all one's heart and to carry out the whole of the divine design for one. But then, in view of the grave necessities of souls and the needs of the Church, one should leave prayer and give all one's energies to doing God's work, saving and sanctifying others, long ago pronounced to be, of all divine things, the divinest. When one goes about one's work precisely as God's, doing just what he indicates, because he wills it, and in the manner that he wishes, it is relatively easy and natural to pass back and forth between prayer and work. Striving to do God's work according to the mind and in the spirit of God may be said to be itself not the least form of prayer. Faithful disciples of St. Ignatius are "contemplatives in action." To illustrate the union that should exist between one who works for God and God himself, a favorite comparison of St. Ignatius was that of instrumental adaptation. The human worker should be a completely pli-ant instrument in the divine hand. A perfect personal instrument would be fully sensitive and responsive to all the motions of that hand. To give one such instrumental flexibility is, according to St. Thomas, the ten-dency of the gifts of the Holy Spirit (I, II, 68, 3). The most exquisite docility to the Holy Spirit is a capital aim in the doctrine of one of the Review for Religious, Januat3,-Februat3, 1991 Society's most distinguished spiritual masters, Fr. Louis Lallemant. Distinctive Practices Certain practices are characteristic of Jesuit asceticism. Nowadays some of these are more or less universal in the Church. But in origin, or at least in their wide diffusion, they are due largely to the influence of Ignatius. Spiritual Exercises, Retreats Perhaps the practice that is most obviously distinctive of those who follow the Jesuit school is that they make retreats and attach great im-portance to them. And more particularly, they do it according to the scheme and sequence of exercises sketched out long ago by the knight-convert at Manresa. The Exercises were originally calculated to last for a solid month, and in this integral form they are made by all Jesuit nov-ices and again by Jesuit priests and brothers toward the end of their train-ing. Other Jesuits regularly repeat them in a condensed form for eight days every year. So also, for varying periods, do many who do not be-long to the Society and still make use of its spiritual aids. The numerous students in Jesuit high schools and colleges throughout the world make annual three-day retreats. Moreover many devout lay men and women make Jesuit retreats annually. St. Ignatius himself did not advocate regular retreats. The custom gradually grew in the Sogiety and was made a matter of rule only in 1609. It is very largely due to Ignatius's influence, directly or indirectly, that now the practice of making annual or regular retreats is for relig-ious and clerics a point of canon law and a received ascetical usage in the Church. The Particular Examen Another practice that was originally most characteristic of the Igna-tian approach is the particular examination of conscience. Essentially it is nothing else than using in the war with one's faults that ancient prin-ciple of strategy: "Divide and conquer!" In more modern and universal terms one might say that it exemplifies the rule: "Specialize! Concen-trate on a limited field!" The particular examen was always a great fa-vorite with St. Ignatius. It is now one of the common techniques of Catho-lic asceticism. Sometimes it is censured by men who concentrate all their scrutiny of it upon some minor detail or other in the method and over-look what is substantial about it. On the other hand, even some of the minor features of it have of late been getting commendation from sci- lgnatian Spirituality/17 entific psychologists. Direction A third practice that is distinctive in its way of Ignatian spirituality is its idea of direction. St. Ignatius considered it especially useful, if not necessary, to prevent one from falling victim to the illusions that may come either from one's own imagination and emotions or from the de-ceits and snares of the evil spirit. As compared with the older schools, St. Ignatius advocates, if I mistake not, a more thorough-going and a more methodical use of it. On the other hand, he did not employ it like St. Francis de Sales or others in seventeenth-century France. The Exer-cises were originally designed to be made individually with a private and experienced director and the exercitant was urged to be very frank and open with the director. In the Society it is expected that subjects should make themselves, even their innermost consciences, all their good and bad points, culpable or inculpable, fully known to their superiors or con-fessors and in return receive individual paternal guidance. Any eager ad-herent of Jesuit asceticism will, if possible, seek constant expert direc-tion from another in the problems of one's interior life. Complete can-dor of soul and docility toward a director or superior fit in very well with certain qualities of character that were particularly dear to St. Ignatius: namely, his preferences for mortification that is interior, of judgment and will, for prudence, humility, discipline, and obedience. Mental Prayer An outstanding mark of any system of asceticism is its doctrine on prayer. If one compares the modern theory and practice of prayer with the ancient or the medieval, one will notice great differences in the rela-tive positions of vocal and mental prayer. The changes had been coming of necessity in the historical evolution of the spiritual and the religious life. In determining the actual extension and form that they have taken since the sixteenth century the influence of St. Ignatius, direct or indi-rect, was a major factor. In making the Exercises and then later in striving "to arrive at per-fection in whatever state or way of life God our Lord may grant us to choose" (135), it is considered most vital that one's soul should be filled with "the intimate understanding and relish of the" great Christian truths (2). Often enough people refer to the first method of mental prayer in the Exercises, the one there named from "the three powers of the soul," as "the Ignatian method." As a matter of fact, in that little booklet the Review for Religious, Jamlao,-February 1991 Saint proposes at least six methods, and this one, used for the consid-eration of abstract truths, is almost immeasurably outnumbered by the "contemplations," according to persons, words, and actions, that deal especially with the life and passion of Christ. Except when misconceived by ill-informed critics or misused by ig-norant persons, Ignatian methods of prayer do not hinder liberty of spirit or stand in the way of the Spirit's inspirations. It is the most rudimen-tary principle of Jesuit spirituality to keep the end clearly in mind, to pre-serve liberty with respect to the means, and to select and use the most apt of the means. Even in the Exercises, written especially for beginners, to aid them in the specific and passing task of rightly determining their vocation, the admonition is given: It "should be noted: . . . I will re-main quietly meditating upon the point in which I have found what I de-sire, without eagerness to go on till I have finished" (76). And again later on: "If in contemplation, say, on the Out" Father, he finds in one or two words abundant matter for thought and much relish and consola-tion, he should not be anxious to go on, though the whole hour be taken up with what he has found'" (254). Incidentally, one may notice that thus from the start St. Ignatius promotes the tendency to pause in contempla-tion rather than to busy oneself with discursive or analytic reflections. Outside of retreat time Jesuits and their followers may and should cultivate those forms of mental prayer, including the highest degrees of contemplation, that will most effectively advance them in loving God and in executing his designs. Naturally, of course, the prayer of apos-tolic workers will differ from that of cloistered Carmelite nuns. Similarly the inspirations of the Holy Spirit will be in harmony with one's divine vocation, not contrary to it. St. Ignatius was a great mystic himself, as his Spiritual Journal am-ply attests. In others as a rule be looked to solid virtue and mortification rather than exalted states of prayer. If we may generalize from a letter to Francis Borgia while the latter was still the Duke of Gand~a, that form of prayer is to be considered best in which divine favors are received most liberally: "The best thing for each particular person is that in which God our Lord communicates himself most freely, bestowing his most holy gifts and spiritual graces, because he sees and knows what is most suitable for him, and, as knowing all, he shows him the way . These gifts I take to be those that are not within our power, to have when we wish, but rather they are pure presents from him who gives and can do all that is good; for example . an intensification of faith, of hope, of charity, delight and repose of spirit, tears, intense consolation, eleva- lgnatian Spirituality tion of mind, divine impressions and illuminations, with all the other grati-fications and spiritual feelings ordained to such gifts" (Monumenta His-torica Society lesu, lgnatiana, Series i, Epist. et Instruct., 1548-50, 233- 237). With respect to mysticism, as in Catholic spirituality generally, so also in Jesuit spiritual teaching, it is possible to distinguish two histori-cal currents, the one decidedly mystical, and the other rather ascetical. To the first belong, for instance, St. Alphonsus Rodriguez, De la Puente, Alvarez de Paz, Caussade, Grou; to the second, Rodriguez, Roothaan, Meschler. Of the masters in mysticism the one best known is Louis Lallemant (France, 1587-1635). He was followed by a number of noted and influ-ential disciples. The work which presents his teaching, The Spiritual Doc-trine of Louis Lallemant, has traditionally been used in the Society to form its young priests in their year of third probation in much the same way as the ascetical Rodriguez is used for the instruction of the novices. Certain spiritual writers of the Society have been considered anti-mystical; among them are Mercurian, Rodriguez, and in a way, Scara-melli. When their statements are viewed against the historical back-ground, properly interpreted with allowances for changed terminology, and compared with the utterances of other authorities of their times, then the significance of the anti-mystical bias is seen to be more apparent than real. In any case, no matter how great it should seem to be, it is com-pletely outweighed by what other Jesuits have done for the cause of mys-tical contemplation. Moreover, no Jesuit ever went so far as to deny that one should fully develop his gifts of the Holy Spirit, welcome every in-fusion of grace that God should wish to give him, and then eagerly make the most of it all. In the recent controversies over the nature of infused contemplation, its place in the general economy of the spiritual life, and the call to it, there have been Jesuits on both sides. Self-Abnegation The lgnatian and Jesuit practice of mortification is very different from the ancient and medieval austerities, and it in turn appears to have had great influence in determining what the use of it should be in the mod-ern Church generally. Now, evidently, bodily penances do not occupy so prominent a place in the total scheme. They are more consciously and more narrowly subordinated to the greater and superior elements in the spiritual life. The employment of them is muchmore under the control of directors and confessors. There is far greater tendency to seek the nec-essary self-abnegation in the hardships of community living and espe- 90 / Review for Religious, Januarv-Februar\, 1991 cially in laborious work for souls. The body is spared much punishment and in exchange it is expected to become a more effective instrument for the spirit. In principle lgnatian mortification is as austere as one could wish. The indifference of the Exercises implies that one should be willing, when-ever the divine purpose or plan requires it, to forego the most pleasant means or undergo the use of the most unpleasant. Self-conquest and self-control are to be so complete that no movement of the lower propensi-ties can draw the deliberate will after it. Asking Christ, crucified for one's own sins, what one should do for him and then giving the decent answer to one's questions also includes the utmost degree of self-crucifixion. The noble knight's response to the summons of Christ the King and Captain involves the fullest oblation of self, and in particular the firm determination to take the offensive in waging war on one's own sensuality and worldliness. Finally the climax of self-abnegation is reached in the third mode of humility: preferring, other things being equal, the poorer and humbler things just to be more closely united with Christ poor and humiliated. One of the rules that St. Ignatius left for his sons is that their chief pursuit should be to seek in the Lord their greater mortification and, as far as possible, constant self-abnegation. In dispo-sition of will he exacts as much as St. John of the Cross does, but his manner of doing it is much less forbidding, as it in turn is harsher and less attractive than that of St. Francis de Sales. In applying the principle or in practice St. Ignatius would have disciples be careful not to injure their health or diminish their bodily forces and interfere with their spiri-tual development or ability to work efficiently. The outcome has been that Jesuit direction and influence have tended greatly to moderate the use of corporal inflictions by pious people. The interior mortification of the mind and will, in perfect obedience, for example, is assigned a large margin of priority. Devotion to the Sacred Heart A practice that is very prominent in modern Jesuit spirituality and cannot be said to characterize the original asceticism of St. Ignatius is devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. In the revelations made to St. Mar-garet Mary, Christ expressed the desire that cultivating the devotion and propagating it as widely as possible among all the faithful should be a special charge of the Society of Jesus. The Society, whether in its supe-riors or its members generally, has always felt that this commission was peculiarly in keeping with its primitive spirit, and hence has been glad to do whatever it could toward making the heart of its great Leader and Ignatian Spirituality/21 King better known and loved¯ Any means to win hearts to Jesus is wel-come, and this devotion to his loving but neglec ted heart is a most at-tractive and effective one. Fostering and deepening their own dedication to the heart of Jesus ts considered by all Jesmts to 15e one of the best meas-ures that they can take to sanctify themselves anld. to vivify their apos-tolic activity. One could not be a student in a Jes,6it school or amember of one of their parishes without being under a certain constant urging to honor the heart of Christ. Great multitudes of the faithful daily make the offering of all their works and sufferings in union with the intention of that heart¯ Nor could one read very far in modern Jesuit spiritual litera-ture without finding much that gives it all a turn toward loving the heart of the Savior. Distinctive Traits Modernity is a mark of Jesuit spirituality, obviously in the chrono-logical sense, and especially also in that its genius is not ancient or me-dieval, but in harmony with the modern Catholic mentality. Negatively, and by way of "going against," it has animated men who were in the forefront of the Church's war against Lutheranism, Calvinism, Jansen-ism, and Quietism. Positively it possesses certain points of affinity to mod-ern social conditions. In contrast to the Middle Ages, Catholics now are in a more hostile milieu, and an aggressive type of spirituality befits them. Men and women cultivating the supernatural life now as a rule get less help from cloistered seclusion, live in the turmoil of large cities, are required to give more attention to action and less to contemplation, and lastly must be educated as well as devout. For the loss of the cloister Jes-uit spiritual training compensates in various ways, all designed to make up in interior individual strength for the external aids that had to be given up. From "the Kingdom" and "the Two Standards" on, it is thor-oughly orientated toward living and struggling in the midst of groups. Its connections with the active life in the Church and education need no comment. Another note of Ignatian asceticism is its high degree of organiza-tion. It is hardly conceivable that one could become well acquainted with the Spiritual Exercises or the Society of Jesus and their spiritual system without remarking what a complicated but strictly unified order or method characterizes all three of them. No other school of spirituality is so consciously methodical and insistent about prudently arranging means to ends. From a military office one might expect well-thought-out strategy. However, the aim of it all being union of the human spirit 99 / Review for Religious, Janttat3,-Februat3, 1991 with the divine spirit, there is nothing mechanical about it. Ignatian spirituality is conspicuously and eminently apostolic. Typi-cal is the injunction said to have been given by him to St. Francis Xavier when dispatching him to the Orient: "Go, and inflame the world!" Jesuit asceticism is eminently practical. There is nothing theoretical about it. It emphasizes above all the actual accomplishment of the divine will and purpose. Doing the will of the Father is always possible, feasi-ble, and most fruitful. The directives given are clear, precise, and am-ple, but not more restrictive than the divine plan itself. Personal initia-tive is encouraged, and it is suggested, with both St. Augustine and St. Thomas (In Mt XXV, 15), that where there is more effort, there also there will be more grace. Natural means are cultivated and exploited to supernatural ends. A peculiarly distinctive mark of lgnatian spirituality is the milita~3, and chivalrous note that runs through it. Don lfiigo Lopez de Loyola was born and brought up an aristocrat. By profession he was an army officer. Early sixteenth-century Spain was still tense with the spirit of the crusades. Upon the soldier's conversion divine grace sublimated to the supernatural sphere his knightly ideas and ideals. The very title of the Exercises states that they prepare one for "the conquest of self." Of all those exercises his two favorites were "the Kingdom" and "the Two Standards," both of them thoroughly military and crusading in in-spiration. The Society of Jesus is dedicated to "waging war for God un-der the standard of the Cross." It was conceived as a sort of shock troop to be thrown into battle wherever the Church's danger seemed to be worst. Its name originally was, and as a matter of fact in several lan-guages still is equivalently, "the Company of Jesus." It was its first su-preme commander's great aim to be himself, and as far as possible to make everyone else, "a noble knight of Jesus Christ." Another note that appears to characterize lgnatian ascesis is a cer-tain dynamism; that is, in a special sense it is marked by force, power, energy. There is not much about it that is gentle, tender, or mild. St. Ig-natius himself was naturally a virile personality of great earnestness and intensity. He came into the history of the Church at a most critical turn-ing point. In particular, the early Protestants were preaching the depre-ciation of good works. An emergency situation called for the most vig-orous reaction, and that is just what the Saint's magnanimous nature in-clined him to. In our days he has been reproached by Henri Bremond with being, "not a master of prayer, but a professor of energy." He would have his disciples share in God's own eagerness to communicate lgnatian Spirituality/93 his goodness and in the Eternal King's ardor to conquer all souls. The feeling dominant in the Jesuit spirit is not one of seclusion and peace: rather it is a sense of war and battle. Nor is it one of quiet study or contemplation: it is rather an air of tenseness and activity. Nor is it one of want or suffering: instead it is an eagerness to make use of things and to get a great task done. "Ad maiorem Dei gloriam" suggests this fact: it points to the incessant, irrepressible, dynamic, straining for ever greater and greater accomplishments for God that the Jesuit sets as his goal. Finally, to conclude, we might sum up Ignatian and Jesuit spiritual-ity in some such terms as these: the first and basic principle is to pursue the divine purpose and plan; the central principle, to know, love, and imi-tate Christ as fully as possible; and the last and highest, "in all things to love and serve the Divine Majesty." ANIMA CHRISTI--aTraditional Prayer Soul of Christ, sanctify me. Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from the side of Christ, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O good Jesus, hear me; Within thy wounds hide me; Suffer me not to be separated from thee; From the malignant enemy defend me; In the hour of my death call me, And bid me come to thee, That with thy saints I may praise thee Forever and ever. Amen. Spiritual Exercises I Loyalty as Liberation: Ignatius of Loyola and Pedro Arrupe at La Storta Parmananda R. Divarkar, S.J. Father Parmananda Divarkar, S.J., served as one of four General Assistants to Fa-ther Pedro Arrupe, who was Superior General of the Society of Jesus from May 1965 to September 1983. Father Arrupe was well-known among all religious since he served as President of the International Union of Superiors General for five consecu-tive terms. Father Divarkar can be addressed at St. Marys: Mazagaon: Bombay 400010: India. The last public statement of Father Pedro Arrupe, which may well be re-garded as his testament, is the homily that was read out for him at a sol-emn Eucharist on the 4th of September 1983. "It is in many ways fit-ting," the text begins, "that at the conclusion of my ministry as Su-perior General of the Society of Jesus, I should come here to La Storta to sing my Nunc Dimittis--even though it be in the silence imposed by my present condition." The little chapel at La Storta, on the outskirts of Rome, is tradition-ally associated with a very special experience of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, "that God the Father placed him with Christ his Son," while on his way to offer to the Pope the services of the group of young men that had gath-ered around him. This chap, el and the memories it evokes were for Fa-ther Arrupe an inexhaustible source of inspiration and strength in the midst of the many challenges he had to face in the difficult period fol-lowing Vatican II. Ignatius recounts his experience in what is popularly known as his autobiography but is, in fact, an untidy collection of reminiscences cov-ering just one third of his life. He did not actually write anything but spoke out his story, in bits and pieces and under trying circumstances, 24 Loyalty as Liberation because of the insistence of his disciples who desired that before he died he should compose an account of his intimate dealings with God, which might serve as a model for future Jesuits. Such a document, he was told, would be his testament, and to produce it would be truly to found the Society of Jesus. In the language of today, the demand was for an authori-tative statement of the charism of the founder--and that is what stands out clearly in an otherwise clumsy text. All through the narrative one sees that Ignatius had a veritable gen-ius for loyalty--even a felt need to be loyal, to find a person or cause that might claim his total devotion. As a young man he is constantly get-ting caught up in unrealistic ambitions, and not even the sobering expe-rience of a shattered leg can break the spell that holds him captive. But some accidental reading reveals to him the true object of his ceaseless quest: it is Christ. In his encounter with Christ, Ignatius experiences the paradox of loyalty as liberation. Loyalty is something that binds, but loy-alty to Christ is a liberation from all that hampers true and total growth. For through intimate union with Christ one comes to share in his own experience, of God as Absolute and all else as relative. This is the truth that makes for freedom. As the story proceeds, each succeeding situation brings to Ignatius the realization that commitment to Christ carries with it other commit-merits-- which may seem to tie him down once again, to be a restriction, but are experienced as a further release, as new opportunities calling forth fresh generosity: loyalty to Christ means loyalty to the Church, loy-alty to the Church means loyalty to the Pope . After many adven-tures, accompanied by singular graces, the process of bringing his loy-alty into ever sharper focus comes to a peak point in a mystical experi-ence at La Storta, of the Father placing him with the Son, of the Son bear-ing the cross and inviting him to service, of a promise that the power of God would support his little group in Rome. This group of recently ordained priests, who had earlier called them-selves Friends in the Lord, took it for granted that once they had fulfilled their resolution to be at the disposal of the Pope for any task he might entrust to them, their fellow~ship would end in dispersion. But, at the very point of parting, they realized that their mutual loyalty, the bond that held them together, had never been a bondage but rather a liberation of their latent talents and the very condition of their availability for serv-ice. So they decided to remain united both in spirit and as members of one body, even when they scattered. Paradoxically, the very thing that would have separated them--their commitment to the Pope--became Review for Religious, January-February 1991 "the basis and chief foundation" of a new religious order, compact but mobile: so the Society of Jesus was established on the principle of loy-alty as liberation. Father Arrupe has an intuitive grasp of this principle, and a lived ex-perience of its validity. Herein is the clue to the distinctive feature of his personality that stands out among all his admirable qualities and charm-ing traits: an unshakable attachment to whatever is'fundamental and a fear-less openness to all that is relevant. This it was that put him so finely in tune with the formula for the renewal of religious life proposed by the Second Vatican Council: fidelity to the foundational charism and adjust-ment to present circumstances. It explains his great popularity and ef-fectiveness as a spiritual leader in the post-conciliar Church--as well as the incomprehension and rejection he met in certain quarters. Not all could understand that adherence to the old and acceptance of the new were not two things for him. So some were alienated by what they perceived as inconsistency, while others followed him erratically, without the delicate balance and unflinching loyalty that characterized Arrupe himself--who was free, bold, and innovative, not in spite of be-ing traditional, but precisely because he held on so tenaciously to the sources of his being. Speaking at a thanksgiving on the completion of fifty years as a Jes-uit, he made a simple profession of the triune loyalty that ruled his life-- to Christ, to the Church, "and to the Society of Jesus. He named them in reverse order and called them his loves: three loves, flowing one from the other, feeding each other, and united in one loyalty that embraced everything and everyone. It pained him to see people, Jesuits especially, caught in a conflict of loyalties. Conversely, he could not hide his joy in the midst of sor-row on the several occasions when his men met with violent death in fi-delity to their mission among the poor. His big concern as General was to bring the Society to an ever greater fraternal unity and apostolic fruit-fulness through a deeper understanding and a more meaningful practice of Ignatius' ideal of loyal service. A small but significant expression of this concern was his desire and effort to get Jesuits all over the world interested and involved in the proper renovation of the chapel of La Storta, which had been badly dam-aged and poorly repaired during World War II. He had the joy of seeing this satisfactorily accomplished just as he retired from office. But the oc-casion was signed with the cross--as was the original experience of Ig-natius. Father Arrupe's closing years are marked with many kinds of suf- Loyalty as Liberation / 97 fering. It is a bittersweet consolation, and a potent inspiration, to think that what he did not entirely succeed in achieving in a decade and a half of earnest striving, he in large measure obtains at the end through the manifold pain he bears with such fortitude and submission. When in the wake of his crippling stroke there came the papal in-tervention in his government, many people--Jesuits and others-- thought that the move would split the Society of Jesus--indeed would splinter it, with bits flying in all directions. Nothing of the sort happened. Rather the contrary: the reaction, led by Arrupe, but universal, was one of faith and fidelity. There was a renewed sense of belonging together, and a rallying around the banner of the cross "to serve the Lord alone, and his Bride the Church, under the Roman Pontiff." For countless Jesu-its, the challenge to identify themselves with a Society that lay in sor-row and humiliation was a supremely purifying and enlivening experi-ence: an experience of loyalty as liberation, with a wholesome impact on the whole Church--a parting gilt, a legacy from their much-loved Gen-eral, who said at the conclusion of his homily at La Storta: What was for Ignatius the culmination and summing up of so many spe-cial graces received since his conversion, was for the Society a pledge that it would share in the graces of the Founder in the measure in which it remained faithful to the inspiration that gave it birth. I pray that this celebration, which is for me a farewell and a conclusion, be for you and for the whole Society represented here, the beginning of a new period of service, with fresh enthusiasm. May the collaboration of the whole Society in the renovation of the chapel of La Storta be an abiding sym-bol and an unfailing inspiration for a united effort at spiritual renewal, trusting in the graces whose memory is enshrined in La Storta. I shall remain at your side with my prayers. The Changing Self-God Image of Ignatius of Loyola William A. Barry, S.J. Father William Barry, S.J., is currently rector of lhe Jesuit community at Boston College. His address is Jesuit Community: Boston College; Chestnut Hill, MasSa-chusetts 02167. ~]~'e have become accustomed to describing the developing relationship of a person with God in interpersonal terms. I have tried such a descrip-tion in a monograph on Jesuit formation where I spoke of prayer as con-scious relationship and then attempted to describe the development of that relationship in terms of the dynamic of the Spiritual Exercises. ~ Those of us who use such a framework often use a form of what Freudi-arts call "object relations theory" and apply it to the relationship with God. According to this theory, we all carry around with us self-other sche-mata learned in our interactions with significant people. With these sche-mata we approach all new people. Such a theory serves to explain in-stant likes and dislikes. A new person is assimilated to an image of some-one in my past life whom I liked or disliked. The theory is also used to explain how people get into repetitive destructive relationships without ever learning from experience. These schemata are self-other psychic structures; they are relational in nature because they are learned through relationships. In other words, the images with their associated feelings and thoughts are of the self in relation to another and others. All our self-images are relational. According to this theory, we also meet God with learned self-God schemata which derive from our relationships with parents and others, from teaching about God, and from past experiences of the Mystery we call God.z These schemata are always distorted and untrue to the reality 28 The Changing Self-God hnage / 29 of who God really is for us. In other words, our experience of God is impoverished because of our self-God schemata. We could say that the development of the relationship with God consists in the learning of pro-gressively more realistic images of self and God in relationship through the actual encounter with God in sacraments, prayer, and life in general. The development could be seen as a process of losing our idols or false images of God (and self) through the encounter itself just as the actual encounter with a new person in our life will teach us something new about ourselves and that person if we let the relationship develop. While these ideas have become more and more commonplace for those of us steeped in the psychological culture of our age, we do not expect such psychological theories to color the descriptions of older spiri-tual writers. The question is: Can their experience of the relationship with God be understood in terms of such a theory? Recently I had occasion to read The Autobiography of St. Ignatius of Loyola3 with some under-graduate students in a class on Jesuit spirituality. I believe that the expe-riences Ignatius describes in the first three chapters of that work can be understood in terms of Ignatius' progressive education about his relation-ship with God. In other words, the changes he describes can be under-stood as changes in his self-God schema. In the course of demonstrating this thesis we will discover that Ignatius, who calls himself the pilgrim in the Autobiography, shows himself to be a pilgrim from an impover-ished image of God to an image of God as Lover pat" excellence. In the process his own self-image changes as well. First, let us note that Ignatius' initial conversion experience came about through noticing the difference between two sets of daydreams as he convalesced from his wounds and the leg operations those wounds en-tailed. In one set of daydreams Ignatius spent hours on end imagining the great deeds he would do, the fine words he would say to win the heart of a great lady. In the other set Ignatius spent equally long hours dream-ing of the great deeds he would do for Christ in imitation of saints like Dominic and Francis. He notes that there was a difference in the two ex-periences. When he was thinking about the things of the world, he took much dclight in them, but afterwards, when he was tired and put them aside, hc found that be w~s dry znd discontented. But when he thought of going to Jerusa-lem, barefoot and eating nothing but herbs and undcrgoing all the other rig-ors that he saw the saints had endured, not only was hc consoled when hc had these thoughts, but even aftcr putting them aside, hc rcmaincd content and happy. Hc did not wonder, howcvcr, at this: nor did hc stop to ponder Review for Religious, January-February 1991 the difference until one time his eyes were opened a little, and hc began to marvel at the difference and to reflect upon it, realizing from experience that some thoughts left him sad and others happy. Little by little hc came to recog-nize the difference between the spirits that agitated him. one from the de-mon, the other from God."~ In these two sets of daydreams the same vaulting ambition, the same vivid imagination are at work, but to different ends. The reading of the life of Christ and of the lives of the saints piqued Ignatius' interest and fired his imagination much as did the romantic literature he so enjoyed and would have preferred to read during his convalescence. Finally he noticed that the two sets of daydreams have different emotional conse-quences in his heart, and then he discerned that one set is from God, the other from the demon. With this decisive discernment Ignatius was set upon a new path, but he was not yet a new person. The rather amusing story of his encounter with the Moor on the road to Montserrat shows how far he was from be-ing a man of discernment.5 He and the Moor, both riding donkeys, got into an argument about whether Mary was a virgin after the birth of Je-sus. Perhaps the Moor felt that Ignatius was getting hot under the collar; at any rate, he spurred his mule on at a fast clip so that he was lost to view. Ignatius began to wonder whether he had done enough to uphold Mary's honor, whether he Should have struck the Moor with his dagger. He could not decide whether to follow the Moor and strike him or leave him alone. In his quandary he decided to let the mule make the decision by letting the reins go slack. The mule did not follow the i'oad the Moor took. We will never know what turn history would have taken if the mule had followed the road to the Moor. What was Ignatius' image of himself in relation to God at this time? A telling phrase occurs in the passage where he recounts his desire to enter the Carthusian house in Seville. But when he thought again of the penances he wished to do as he went about the world, the desire to enter the Carthusians cooled; he feared that he would not be able to give vent to the hatred that hc had conceived against himself.~' That self-hatred tells us much about his image of God at this time of prepa-ration for the journey that would end up in Manresa. If Ignatius hates himself so violently, we can speculate that he harbors an image of him-self before an implacable God. Not long after his arrival in Manresa we hear ominous hints of where such a self-God image can lead. Each day he begged alms in Manresa. He did not cat meat or drink wine, The Changing Self-God hnage / 3"1 even though they were offered to him. Hc did not fast on Sundays, and if they gave him a little wine, he drank it. As hc had bccn very attentive in taking care of his hair, as was the fashion at that time (and he had a fine head of hair), he decided to let it grow naturally, without combing or cut-ting it or covering it with anything by night or day. For the same reason he let his toenails and fingernails grow because he also had been attentive to this.7 He began to attack his body and his former attitudes with reckless aban-don to the point where he did permanent harm to his health, as he notes later. It is at this point that he mentions the serpent-like image that "gave him great comfort." "He found great pleasure and consolation in seeing this thing, and the more he saw it the more his consolation in-creased. When it disappeared he was saddened."8 Ignatius did not make the connection with his earlier discernment when he noted that the day-dreams of doing knightly deeds delighted him during the dreaming, but left him sad afterward. Moreover, he notes that around the time when this vision began, "a harsh thought came to trouble him by pointing out the hardship of his life, as if someone was saying within his soul, 'How will you be able to endure this life for the seventy years you have yet to live?' "9 With this temptation began the great swings of mood which led him into the terrible bout of scruples which he so poignantly de-scribes in the following pages of the Autobiography. The agony of his struggle with these scruples brought him to this point. Once when he was very upset by them he began to pray with such fervor that he shouted out loud to God, saying, "'Help me, Lord, for I find no rem-edy among men nor in any crcalurc, yet if I thought I could find ih no labor would be too great for me. Show me, O Lord, where I may find it: even though I should have to follow a little dog so he could help me. I would do it. "" While hc had these thoughts, the temptation often came over him with great force to throw himself into a large hole in his room next to the place where he was praying.~° The self-hatred has taken a very violent turn. What kind of image of God lies behind such scruples? It has to be a God who, in the words of the psychiatrist J.S. Mackenzie, "is always snooping around after sin-ners." ~ Ignatius felt that he had not completely confessed his sins. At one point a confessor ordered him not to confess any sins of the past "'un-less it should be something very clear. But inasmuch as he thought all those things were very clear, this order was of no benefit to him . "~- God must be a terrible judge ready to pounce on every sin. Finally, Ig-natius had a couple of days in which he felt free from scruples. 39 / Review for Religious, Januao,-February 1991 But on the third day, which was Tucsday, while at prayer hc began to re-member his sins one by one, and he went on thinking about one sin after the other out of his past and felt he was required to confess them again. But after these thoughts, disgust for the life he led and the desire to give it up came over him. In this way the Lord wished to awaken him as from a dream. 13 , Ignatius, we can speculate, has realized that the image of God with which he has operated thus far in Manresa was a product of the demon, and not an image of the true God. From the lessons God had given him hc now had some cxpcricncc of the di-versity of spirits, and he bcgan to wonder about the means by which that spirit had come. He decided very clearly, therefore, not to confess anything from the past anymore: from that day forward he remained free of those scru-ples and held it for certain that our Lord through his mercy had wished to deliver him.~'~ God is not implacable, but merciful, and Ignatius can count on this God. Thus he need not continually grub around in his mind for possible un-confessed sins. Immediately after recounting this discernment Ignatius describes how he rather easily discerned God's will in two matters which before would have led to agonizing indecision. He prayed for seven hours each day, but when it was time for bed, he was overcome with great spiritual con-solations which cost him much sleep. Wondering about this at times hc thought to himself that he had assigned much time for converse with God and all the rest of the day as well, and he began to doubt, therefore, whether that enlightenment came from a good spirit: he concluded that it would bc better to ignore it and to sleep for the appointed time. And so he did.~5 How his image of God has changed! In the next paragraph he describes how an experience of the image of meat compelled him to abandon with-out any hesitation or doubt his firm practice of never eating meat. Even when his confessor asked him to consider whether this was a temptation, Ignatius could not doubt that the good spirit was the source of the im-age. He then says: "God treated him at this time just as a schoolmaster treats a child whom he is teaching,''~6 and goes on to describe in five points the ways God revealed himself, culminating in the description of the extraordinary enlightenment on the banks of the Cardoner. After this experience he recognized the image of the serpent-like figure as a temp-tation. The final demonstration that the encounter with God changed lgna- The Changing Self-God hnage / 33 tius' self-God schema comes from the very next paragraphs where Igna-tius describes three instances when he faced death. The first occurred at Manresa when a fever brought him to death's door. He was convinced that he was about to die. At this a thought came to him telling him that he was just, but this caused him so much trouble that he rejected it and recalled his sins to mind. He had more trouble with this thought than with the fever itself, but no matter how much he strove to overcome the thought, he could not do so. Somewhat re-lieved of the fever so that he was not at the point of expiring, he began to cry out loudly, calling him a sinner and reminding him of the offenses hc had committed against God. ~7 Contrast this experience with the next one he describes. He was on ship from Spain to Italy and in a storm everyone on board was convinced that death was inevitable. At this time, examining himself carefully and preparing to die. he was un-able to be afraid of his sins or of being condemned, but he was greatly con-fused and sorrowful, as he believed he had not well used the gifts and graces which God our Lord had given him.~s Now Ignatius knows that he is a sinner, and that knowledge saddens him but it does not frighten him. He trusts in the mercy of God. The self- God image seems to be that of a person who is convinced that he is a sinner loved and forgiven by an all-merciful God. Then Ignatius describes a time in the year 1550 when he and every-one else were convinced that he was about to die of a fever. At this time, thinking about death, he felt such happiness and such spiritual consolation at having to die that he dissolved entirely into tears. This hap-pened so continually that he often stopped thinking about death so as not to feel so much consolation.~9 Now Ignatius seems to be enamored of God, totally caught up with the desire for ultimate union with God. Thoughts of his sins do not seem to arise. The self-God image seems to be that of beloved to lover. God has taught Ignatius the ultimate lesson of who God really is for Ignatius, and for all of us, Loverpar excellence. Fidelity to the relationship with God has changed Ignatius' image of God as well as his image of himself. Ignatius urges the one who directs the Spiritual Exercises to "per-mit the Creator to deal directly with the creature, and the creature directly with his Creator and Lord."2° In that encounter with God the retreatant can learn a new and more realistic self-God schema. All of us have sche-mata that impoverish our experience of God and, thus, of ourselves. In Review for Religious, January-February 1991 his Autobiography Ignatius shows himself as a pilgrim from a small view of God to one of God as Lover. Ignatius believed that the same change can happen to us. NOTES ~ See William A. Barry, "Jesuit Formation Today: An Invitation to Dialogue and Involvement," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 20/5 (November, 1988), pp. 5- 8. 2 See Ana-Maria Rizzuto, Birth of the Living God: A Psychoanalytic Study (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979). 3 Translated by Joseph F. O'Callaghan and edited by John C. Olin (New York: Har-per & Row, 1974). '~ Ibid, p. 24. 5 Ibid, pp. 30-31. 6 Ibid, p. 25. (Italics mine.) 7 lbid, p. 33. 8 Ibid, p. 33. 9 lbid, pp. 33-34. ~0 lbid, p. 35. ~ Quoted in Henry Guntrip, Psychotherapy and Religion (New York: Harper, 1957), p. 195. ~2 Ibid, p. 35. ~3 lbid, p. 36. ~'~ lbid, p. 36. ~5 Ibid, p. 37. ~6 lbid, p. 37. ~7 lbid, p. 40. ~8 /bid, p. 40. 19 lbid, pp. 40-41. 20 Louis J. Puhl, trans. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola Uni-versity Press, 1951), No. 16. A.M.D.G.: Dedication or Directive? Walter J. Ong, S.J. Father Walter Ong, S.J., well-known writer of articles and books and long-time pro-fessor at St. Louis University, wrote this article for the September 1952 issue. His reflections on the A.M.D.G. motto remain just as timely today. His address is Jes-uit Hall; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. By a kind of irresistible momentum, as an expression becomes more and more widely circulated in the form of a byword or motto, it tends to lose its original identity. There is an externality attendant on all human com-munication, which is involved with the external senses and spoken words, and this externality becomes only aggravated on the lips of a crowd. By the time an expression becomes widely quoted, its sense tends to be controlled not by the purpose of those who originally drafted it, and gave it. its identity, but by the shifting kaleidoscope of external con-ditions. Thus Polonius' "Though this be madness, yet there is method in't," when it is quoted today, takes its meaning from the current signification of method as fixed by our interests and way of living, not from what Shakespeare meant when he wrote it and what his contemporaries under-stood. Today it is generally taken to mean that Hamlet's madness was directed to some ulterior purpose. But Shakespeare was referring rather to the interior organization of tl-ie speech Hamlet had just uttered--mad as it sounded, this speech gave evidence of being coherent, of being logi-cally organized in the way speeches should be. Literary history is strewn with stock 6xpressions whose meanings are lost in such easygoing misinterpretations.' This is true of secular litera-ture, but perhaps more of spiritual literature, for the fortunes of a spiri-tual expression are even more precarious as the very terms it deals in are 35 Review for Religious, Januat3,-Februat3, 1991 more elusive and fraught with deeper implications. When we try to give them close attention, to discover their real iden-tity, spiritual sayings have a way of tripping us up unawares--and the tripping up is done not only by what we might take for recondite spiri-tual maxims but by what are downright spiritual commonplaces. It comes as a shock for us to realize that the particular manner in which we em-ploy even so basic a motto as the Ad majorem Dei gloriam, or "To the greater glory of God," associated with St. Ignatius of Loyola does not quite correspond to the older use of the term. More and more, this phrase has come to be used as a motto or de-vice which is affixed as a sort of dedication to objects--to books, per-haps, or to banners or to buildings. Certainly, against such procedure no valid theological or ascetical objection can be urged. But it is worth not-ing that this procedure does represent a significant shift in emphasis. It represents a kind of externalization, as A.M.D.G. becomes a dedicatory motto for public proclamation. In such cases, the A.M.D.G. is felt as applied to the thing, used as a sort of spiritual rocket attachment to shoot the creature off Godward. Certainly, this is as it should be. Still, it does not quite represent the basic lgnatian use which reserves the phrase rather for interior applica-tion and prefers others .for publicity purposes. While it is true that the A.M.D.G. has roots in Christian tradition far older than St. Ignatius, so that we cannot expect his use to control the whole economy of the maxim, nevertheless, since the maxim as it is used today traces chiefly to him it is worth noting the nature of the current divergence. To do so, we may start with an actual incident. Some years ago, a non-Catholic friend of mine admonished me for not putting A.M.D.G. at the head of my letters to him--as, he said, all the other Jesuits who corresponded with him always did. Of course, in my letters to him I have used the initials ever since, but not without wondering whether the other Jesuits used to bludgeon me into the practice have not themselves been dragooned into it first by this intrepid promoter of Jesuit conformity. For the fact is that not a one of the Jesuits I I~now normally writes A.M.D.G. at the head of his letters--not when he writes to me, at any rate. It is simply not the general practice of Jesuits todo so, and apparently never has been. A strange fact, if A.M.D.G. is to be taken as a dedicatory motto. The reason is to be sought in history and tradition. As is well known to readers of her correspondence, St. Teresa of Avila had the practice of writing "Jesus" at the top of her letters. An odd motto, we may A.M.D.G. / 37 think. Not even a phrase. Just one word. Still, this, and not A.M.D.G. is the motto with Ignatian antecedents. It occurs over and over again at the head of St. Ignatius' letters published in the Monumenta lgnatiana, as A.M.D.G. does not. Similarly, the seal of the Society of Jesus from earliest times im-pressed or printed on books or documents or other objects bears not A.M.D.G. at all, but again this simple word "Jesus," abbreviated in its first three letters which, written in the Greek alphabet, are simply the "IHS" known to everyone as the monogram of our Lord. It is the seal, this "Jesus," on the title pages, and not the A.M.D.G. which serves to identify early Jesuitica. "Jesus" is the dedication which is applied to objects. Things, like men, are to put on Christ. This is one dedication, it should be remarked, or one motto, which is both easy and thought-provoking. What is more, as one simple, mys-terious word, it defies distortion. A second word might offer a purchase for applying pressure to this one and thus make distortion possible. But left alone, the mysterious Name retains its self-possession. Unalloyed, isolated, the name of Jesus becomes proof against the externalization which threatens everything that human expression touches. Thus, Jesuits fail to use A.M.D.G. to head their correspondence to-day because such usage has no place in their tradition from the very be-ginning. But this is far from saying that the A.M.D.G. is not central to the Catholic tradition of spirituality which flows through the Society of Jesus. On the contrary, the expression has its principal relevance and ap-plication at the very heart of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, which define this tradition. The relevance here is deeply interior, for here the Ad majorem Dei gloriam is referred to the individual soul at what we may call its extreme depth. It concerns the crisis within the individual consciousness which is the moment of decision, the moment when we make up our mind, the crisis so deep as to precede not only exterior ac-tion but even interior action as well, the crisis in which is set the act of the human will--"the selfless self of self," as Gerard Manley Hopkins has it, "most strange, most still." As their title is at pains to explain, the entire Spiritual Exercises are focused at these strange, still depths of decision within the soul. They have as their purpose to enable a man to make a decision as he should, without being swayed by things he should not be swayed by--"without being determined by an affection which might be badly ordered,~' the title of the Exercises states. St. Ignatius is at his most painstaking when, after the first two "weeks" of preparation, he finally comes to discuss 38 / Review for Religious, Janua13,-Februal3, 1991 how, in order so to make a decision, the individual must keep his eyes fixed on God. The discussion comes in the part of the Exercises called "Three Sorts of Humility," which bulks so large in his mind that Igna-tius does not treat it as a simple meditation in the way in which the ma-terial up to this point has been treated. Rather, introducing it here, he says that this material on three sorts of humility is to be pondered over the whole day through. This material is the last item in the Exercises before the "election" itself, the making of the decision toward which the whole Exercises are oriented. As the exercitant leaves the three sorts of humility to embark on the election itself, the state of mind which he has, with God's grace, prepared for himself is such that he is now to take his clue from God, and from God alone. In the last of the three sorts of humility he consid-ers, St. Ignatius envisions this preoccupation with God in all its present richness, at the point at which the depths of the individual soul are touched by the depths of revelation and of the Incarnation itself, which hereupon becomes an inseparable part of the Christian's way of making a choice. In the last analysis here, so much is the soul to take its clue from God and from God alone that the fact that God has decided on the Incar-nation, which means on a way of doing things more difficult than might otherwise have been, predisposes the soul to clutch to itself the difficul-ties rather than the easy things it encounters. The great manifestation of God to the world, the Incarnation, as St. Paul insists (Ph 2:6), began in an emptying-out of the Word, a step toward difficulty as, for the first time, one of the Persons of the Blessed Trinity became capable of suf-fering. The soul, eyes only on God, can never forget this initial determinant and dominant factor in the whole of the Redemption. The resulting state of mind can be called indifference in that it regards directly God alone, and not creatures. But in a sense, it is not indifference, because, in this vision of God, seen in terms of faith and the Incarnation, created reality is now included by virtue of God's own choice--Christ's body and soul are in the direct line of vision. They are testimony to the fact that, for reasons we cannot fully comprehend, God himself was not indifferent-- he chose to "empty" himself into a human body and soul, chose to be able to suffer when this was not necessary at all. The soul wants to copy God, since God is the End to which means are to be adapted. Regarding creatures as means in the light of natural reason alone, it can be indiffer-ent to them. But regarding them in the light of revelation, the soul sees A.M.D.G. / 39 that Christ's use of means involved more ,~uffering than seemed neces-sary. The result is a permanent torque boira s~ i,n the soul, an inclination toward what is difficult after the manner of Christ--an inclination justi-fiable nevertheless, curiously enough, as indifference on the score that it is a torque induced not by the means at all, but by the End, Christ, who is God. The inclination is mysterious and cannot be discussed fully here, but its authenticity is certified by the fact that the difficulties we have in explaining it parallel those we have in explaining God's choice of means to his end in the Redemption. This inclination cannot quite translate itself directly into action, for suffering is necessarily passive, and the activity involved in the direct infliction of suffering, even on self, is not what St. Ignatius has in mind, for he says nothing about it here. But the inclination is none the less a positive inclination, for in the meditation on the "Two Standards" al-though there is question of being received in the band of those who en-dure actual poverty and of bearing injuries and embarrassments, St. lg-naiius directs the exercitant to pray positively and actively to be allowed to undergo these things. The mixture of activity and passivity is of a piece with Christ's passion, which was utldergotle by Christ, not inflicted on himself, but for which he offered himself positively by an act of his human will, and which was thereby a welcome means when it was pre-sented to him. Ultimately, the mystery here traces to the fact that the end is not suffering, but God, and that by the Incarnation God became in-volved personally in suffering. This inclination or bias toward what is difficult is the matter of the third sort of humility envisioned by St. Ignatius, and it is when the exer-citant has thus descended deep into the mysteries of Christianity to find the framework for the making of a proper choice that he encounters in full force the prescription Ad majorem Dei gloriam. Two ways of mak-ing the election or choice are reviewed by St. Ignatius, and in both the exercitant is counseled to let the determinant in the balance be God's greater glory. In the first way, the soul is to consider before God con-cerning the alternatives it is faced with, "what tends more to his praise and glory." In the second, it is again to consider what, in a similar case of various alternatives, it would counsel another to do "for the greater glory of God." "Greater," it will be seen here, enters into the scheme precisely be-cause there is question of comparing alternatives. The famous expres-sion is thus as central as it is to the tradition that comes to us through 40 / Review for Religious, Januarv-Februar\, 1991 St. Ignatius because it is inseparably engaged with the focal Ignatian ac-tivity of making a choice. That the expression is thus polarized as a prin-ciple of decision rather than as a dedication of existing reality can be con-firmed in this same part of the Exercises concerning the "election." For, in this very context, when Ignatius comes to speak of something other than the making of a choice, he drops the "majorem" to say that man exists "for the glory of God" ("ad Dei gloriam" in the "Vulgate" ver-sion, that rendered by Father Andr~ de Freux, S.J., into Latin accept-able to Renaissance humanists, which Ignatius could not write, but gone over and approved by the Saint himself) or "to praise God our Lord" ("ad laudandum Deum Dominum nostrum," in the "Literal" version made to keep close to St. Ignatius's Spanish by Father John Roothaan). Because of the focus of the phrase as a principle of choice, in the "To the greater glory of God," it is the "greater" and not the "glory" which receives the psychological stress, the glory being in a sense taken for granted: any action, and more particularly any action done for God, adds to God's "accidental" glory, that is, adds something to created re-ality and activity which can be referred to him. This reference of the "greater" is eclipsed when the phrase is understood simply as a dedi-cation, and a puzzle easily results. For, simply as a dedication, how can "To the greater glory of God" be preferable to the simple declaration "To the glory of God"? If an object is devoted entirely to the glory of God, what more can be asked. The puzzle here can give rise to strange answers, expressed or implied. There is an American city in which a large Masonic temple standing opposite a much larger Catholic university bears on its facade the dedi-cation "To the glory of God." Most of the Catholic university's stu-dents are conscious of the more familiar "To the greater glory of God." Do they fix their attention on the "greater" so as to construe the uni-versity's commitment to this motto as a brag, a gesture vaunting the uni-versity's activity in the face of that of the Freemasons across the street? Nothing could be further from the truth or from the spirit animating St. Ignatius, but the interpretation is inviting insofar as the fact is lost sight of that A.M.D.G. applies primarily to the depths of one's soul. Even there, it is a principle for making choices, not for congratulating our-selves on past choices we have made. The Spiritual Exercises are the earliest of Ignatius' own major writ-ings, and they determine the case of his further written work, as of his whole life. This determination makes it possible to observe the workings of the phrase Ad majorem Dei gloria~n on an even larger field than that A.M.D.G. / 41 of the Exercises themselves. The lengthiest of St. Ignatius' written works are the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, and in these the Ad majorem Dei gloriam occurs so often as to become almost a refrain. It does not lose its primary orientation here. This orientation toward the choice of one among various alternative means is patent enough when the phrase occurs in a place where the Con-stitutions do not determine a procedure in detail but leave the determi-nation to be made by the superior or by the subject in terms of the indi-vidual case--a thing they do far more often than persons who do not know them might believe, for St. Ignatius had a great distrust of strait-jacketed procedure. Here the Ad majoreJn Dei gloriam comes into its own, for it is posed explicitly as the instrument and directive for action, for meeting a time of decision and making a choice. For this, it avails in great things and in small. It is to be the princi-ple for decisions taken in the General Congregation of the whole Soci-ety of Jesus, which meets only on such important occasions as that of the election of the General (Constitutions, VIII, vii, I). But it is also a principle of ordinary day-by-day life. The Jesuit in his studies, wonder-ingjust what mixture of literary and spiritual conversation would be best with the other students he is thrown with, is told that he must measure his decision here, as the General Congregation must measure its deci-sion, by what in each individual case is "ad majorem Dei gloriam" (Con-stitutions, IV, iv, 6). Instances of like sort can be multiplied from through-out the Constitutions. The Ad majorem Dei gloriam is similarly oriented toward choice when it occurs in the Constitutions in places where the alternatives are not left free but a definite policy decided upon. This becomes clear when the phrase is seen in the light of what the Constitutions are and how they were written. The Constitutions are not meditations or doctrinal instruc-tions, but directives for procedure, and as such they are of their very na-ture determinations, matters on which the mind is made up, a decision taken. But if they are decisions, someone had to draft them in the first place, and it was St. Ignatius to whom the task fell. The accounts of St. Ignatius' life leave no doubt that the making of these decisions was not easy for St. Ignatius. In his own autobiography, as recounted to Father Luis Gonzales, he tells how he spent forty days coming to a decision on just two points alone, and how at these tires he was preoccupied singu-larly with God. Once the principle of choice is given and accepted in the full, it may still take labor to decide wha~ God's will really is, although we become more adept at this by spiritual maturity and by prayer. Hence, 49/Review for Religious, January-February 1991 when the Constitutions prescribe--as they do so often that it is superflu-ous to list passages--that a thing be done this way rather than that way "for the greater glory of God," we have in the phrase a reminiscence of the labor of St. Ignatius, an echo of the deliberation prefaced to this act of choice, which is protracted permanently in the Constitutions. Here it does seem that the phrase becomes almost a dedication, and, in a certain sense, it really does insofar as a dedication represents a kind of protraction of an act of the will made in the past. But if it is a dedica-tion, it is one of a special kind which arises out of what we may call a choice-situation. The apparently tautological "more" is a permanent re-minder of this fact. In this sense, the phrase is a useful reminder of a decision made for God, a means of protracting the decision and of keeping our attention on him. In this sense, too, used as a motto, the A.M.D.G. is perhaps a little disconcerting in the way it points to the interior of our own hearts. Inscribed on a building, it does more than point to the building and more than point the building to God. It points to our own interior life. In ef-fect, it says that this object represents somehow a choice we have made with our eyes on God. So long as this fact is kept in mind, the motto will notbe a perfunc-tory label. We cannot reverse the evolution of the use of this phrase, even if we should want to. Changes in emphasis such as this evolution repre-sents correspond to altered emphases within the reality around us and have behind them psychological and sociological drives which we would be hard put to counter. But the drift toward externalization here is some-thing we must always be ready to resist. It is good to remind ourselves that the A.M.D.G. is basically a directive concerned with something deep within us, with a focus of our being which none but God and our-selves can touch. It applies primarily not to buildings nor to books nor to letters, but to the brink of decision within us. "To the greater glory of God" is not a mere label, but the baring of one's soul. Finding God in a Busy Day David Keith Townsend, S.J. Father David Townsend, S.J., a member of the British Province of the Society of Jesus, is part of the staff of St. Beuno's Spiritual Exercises Centre. His address is St. Beuno's; St. Asaph, Clwyd; North Wales LLI7 0AS; Great Britain. [~]any of our current Western prayer-forms were first elaborated in earlier times, when people lived in an atmosphere of faith, and in a Europe which was Christendom. Such is the case with the examen. Until quite recently, in English-speaking countries, the examen was known popu-larly as The Examination of Conscience. Despite all attempts to modern-ize, rename, and generally rehabilitate the examen, by calling it the Con-sciousness Examen or the Daily Review of Life, its origins lie in an un-divided Christendom. Moreover, the examen owes much to its use by St. Ignatius Loyola, the sixteenth-century founder of the Society of Jesus, in his book the Spiritual Exercises. We do well to remind ourselves that we are not sixteenth-century Christians living in Europe at a time when an undivided Christendom was being rent asunder. Then, despite the religious quarrels, the vast major-ity of the citizens of Europe were Christian believers. The majority of those who were not Christian believers would tliemselves have been be-lievers in the One God. The existence of God was generally acknowl-edged to be real both in public as well as in private relationships. God was explicit. The Divine Reality was woven into every aspect of life, and at every level. The World of Today's Christian The God-pervasiveness of the past is totally unlike the atmosphere in which the twentieth-century believer lives. At least, it is quite unlike 43 44 / Review for Religious, January-February 1991 the secularism and individualism prevalent today in First World coun-tries. In earlier eras God was part of the atmosphere breathed. Then the reality of God did not have to be positively fostered. God was palpably present, not least in the hearts and minds of the people and in the shrines strewn throughout both town and countryside. Today, in the developed countries of the West, God is excluded from public relationships, except, perhaps, for great state occasions and other similar formal and cultural events. Perhaps, too, God is excluded in ef-fect from the majority of private relationships. There is a prevailing at-mosphere, if not of unbelief, then, certainly, of the suspension of belief. The atmosphere is not one of faith. At best, and perhaps for the most part, God is an irrelevancy. God rarely enters into the considerations of a person or of a group concerning the living of life or the making of decisions. For the major-ity today there is little awareness of the involvement of God in each and every aspect of life. For so many, it is not God-mindedness that lies at the center of their world and universe. Therefore, for the majority there is little attempt to discover what God might be doing in our own times. Neither individual Christians nor whole Christian communities are exempt from the effects of this lack of God-mindedness. Individual Chris-tians and whole Christian communities are not removed from the pro-cesses at work in society at large. Whatever can be said regarding sociopo-litical processes and their effect on the individual Christian applies with perhaps even more force to the churches and to any.groupings of Chris-tian people. The contemporary believer, as an individual and as a mem-ber of a particular Christian community, is not spared being influenced by the prevalent atmosphere which would relegate God to particular places, to particular times and circumstances, to particular types of per-sons, even, perhaps, to complete oblivion. Reality being what it is, a Christian's first task today, and the first task of any Christian group, is the fostering of a positive awareness of, and a sense for, the reality of God in life. Believers need to ensure that they bring into each and every aspect of life a faith in God's involve-ment in the world. The individual believer, together with others, can then strive to read the signs of the times. It then becomes possible to know what God's activity is, in the wider world, and in the more personal worlds of both individual Christians and the groups to which they be-long. Today Christians have to do battle lest practical unbelief increasingly and negatively affect their manner of living with God. As always, life Finding God in a Bus), Day / 45 itself will be the reality check on the truth of such a "faith-full" God-centered life. The truth concerning the centrality and authenticity of the Christian group's faith, as that of the individual Christian, will show it-self in action: in the quality of the decisions made, in the values inform-ing those decisions, in the relationships formed, and in the quality of the attitudes informing those relationships. These qualities will show them-selves as much in the public spheres of life as in the private. The examen itself can so easily degenerate without the explicit, posi-tive fostering and nourishing of this element of belief in God being pres-ent and at work in all of life, both personal and communal. It can de-generate either into that kind of harsh moralizing which does not need God and which suffers from the absence of the God of compassion. Or it can degenerate into an un-christian and self-centered form of self-improving. The experiences of those brought up in the past on the examination of conscience suggest that both forms of degeneration can all too easily occur. Both forms of degeneration are differing forms of idolatry. The idol has no place for the life-giving, creative Trinity. The True God is effectively ousted. Something humanly created attempts to replace the uncreated Trinity (see Psalm 135:14-17). With the self focus, of course, the examen ceases to be God centered, and so ceases to be prayer. The examen becomes barren. Hardly surprisingly the result was frequently a total abandonment of this particular prayer exercise. The Day: Divine Meeting-Place A help in this crucial self-composing in faith is to consider the day as the privileged place for the moment-to-moment meeting with God. Likewise, the day is the place where that meeting with God can fail to be effective. Then, in this latter case, although there is the presence of God to the believer, this presence is neither acknowledged nor recipro-cated. There can be then no specific and concrete awareness of the pres-ence of God to the believer. There can be then no specific and concrete awareness of the presence of the believer to God. What is said here of an individual Christian speaks with greater force when applied to whole Christian communities. Christians believe that God is being revealed continually. The work of creation and salvation does not cease. The divine activity continues in and through the places, the events, the groups, and the people of the day. If this is the case, it does seem rather important to look at this day in which Christians and Christian ggoups meet and fail to meet God. The day is the providential vehicle for this meeting. It is by means Review for Religious, Januap3,-Februat3, 1991 of this daily providence that an individual's commitment to God finds, and fails to find, its expression and reality. It is, after all, in the day that believers live out, and fail to live out, the appropriate response to that particular calling of God which we name "vocation." It is in the day that a Christian family, or other Christian group, lives out, and fails to live out, its appropriate response to its "vocation." The day is where God moment-to-moment exercises loving provi-dence over all, including this believer and this believing community. The day is where Christians allow, and do not allow, God to work the divine desires for them. The day is the place where believers respond, and do not respond, to the moment-to-moment calls to the love and service of those around. The day is where the Christian community lives out, and does not live out, in concrete detail, the implications of its own special calling and vocation. With the viewpoint and the perspective of a faith in God present and at work in the world and among all the peoples of the world, the succes-sion of days allows the believer to see whether and to what extent the various human communities, including that believer's own Christian com-munity, are responding to the calls to justice, love, and service. The in-dividual believer, challenged by the Gospel of Jesus, will sense how his or her own desire is touched. The Gospel stirs in the believer desires to respond to personal and world events in a more Christ-like way. That Gos-pel challenge and the promise of Jesus, shared with others, will revital-ize the Christian community, for the life of the world. How can a person, or a group of people living and working together, grow in awareness and sensitivity to the God living and working in their own world and life? The simple answer: Look back over the day.t Not just to look back in general terms, but to look back expressly seeking to find where God has been active for that individual in his or her own world and life that day. To look back to see where concretely and spe-cifically God has been present and active for that community. To look back, to see, and to share with others what is seen. The examen is a way of initiating and facilitating this inner dialogue for each individual. The examen can become a communal experience of God's goodness and presence when shared in the family or other Chris-tian group. The examen challenges the individual and the group as if to say, "How can you say you are living a Christian life, if you never re-flect on it?" Or, "How can you say you are doing God's will if you never look to see what it is that you really are doing'?" Or, "How can you say you believe in God present and active in the world for all peo- Finding God in a Busy Day / 47 pie if you never reflect on the divine meaning of each day?" Or, "You say you want to serve Christ, and you want to live a more Christ-like life; well then, reflect on how your day has been, and let the experience of that day teach you what it will." Believers and Christian groups claim that they have faith in God work-ing through the Spirit both in their lives and in the world. Unfortunately, only very few seem to reflect positively on this crucial fact. The examen is a short prayer exercise which can assist in developing in a believer, and within a Christian community, a greater positive awareness of and sensitivity to the presence of God. There develops a sense of the con-crete ways God has been working in him, her, or them during the day. This greater positive sense of God can lead the believer, and that be-liever's community, to a more accurate and to a more immediate re-sponse to the initiatives of God's presence as they occur moment-to-moment during the day. Christians can become much more finely tuned to the presence and activity of the divine, moment-to-moment during the day. The deeper sense of the divine allows the Christian and the com-munity to respond so as to become molded according to the desires of the Trinity, to become "God's work of art" (Ep 2:10). The examen, therefore, becomes a particular application of the Con-templation To Attain The Love Of God, found at the end of the book of the Spiritual Exercises (see Ex. 230-7). There, having made the full Spiri-tual Exercises, the retreatant prayerfully becomes aware of and contem-plates the reality of the Trinity present and at work in all of creation, in the struggle, in the effort, and in the disappointment, as much as in all else. In the offering "Take, Lord, and receive" (Ex. 234), of the Con-templation To Attain The Love Of God, the retreatant makes a commit-ment to live out that contemplative presence to the divine in ,the actual realities of daily life. The examen can become an examination of the extent to which the person's actual response to this moment-to-moment divine presence, ex-pressed in that offering of the Contemplation To Attain The Love Of God, is rooted or not in the realities of actual daily living. When, by the shar-ing of individuals, the examen is allowed to become the prayer of a peo-ple, a family, a community, a church, that Christian group will be con-stantly recommitting itself, from within its contemplation of the love of God present and at work in its communal life, to a profound communal service. In our own day We experience the godly social challenge and influence exercised by such Christian groups, for example the base Chris-tian communities. 48 / Review for Religious, January-February 1991 The examen can also indicate just how inclusive or exclusive is the life of an individual Christian or the corporate life of a Christian com-munity. A community's world, like a person's world, can be larger or smaller, embracing more or less, more self-centered or more other-centered. The examen can throw light on just how much or how little of the world is allowed by believers to reveal the Trinity at work. The examen, therefore, can be the instrument whereby a Christian or the Christian community is invited by God to widen the area of peo-ple, groups, places, and circumstances in which the love and justice of God, and the God of love and the God of justice, can be found. The ex-amen can become the instrument whereby the individual Christian and the Christian group are invited to make an ever larger self-offering. The examen can be an aid to believers becoming more greatly involved in the ever wider love of God wherever it is found. The love of God urges Chris-tians as individuals and as communities to a greater concern (see 2 Co 5: 14). Traditionally, there have been five aspects or moments to the ex-amen. On any individual occasion one or more of these aspects will pre-dominate. That being so, it is enough to say here that these five aspects are not a syllabus to be plowed through relentlessly on each occasion. On any one occasion of praying the examen, the believer, and indeed a Christian group praying the examen together, gives to any of these as-pects the time needed and desired. The examen is prayer. Therefore, the one praying the examen remains in the aspect where he, she, or they find what is sought without trying to hurry through the other aspects. The First Aspect: Gratitude Thefirst aspect is the fostering of an attitude of thanksgiving, or grati-tude. For the person or group developing such an attitude, there is noth-ing that has not been given. Here, therefore, Christians are not being thankful merely for those aspects of the day that have given pleasure whilst remaining unthankful for those aspects of the day that have not pleased. The believer is not picking and choosing what to be thankful about, in the sense of choosing some things, events, or people, but rejecting oth-ers. Some aspects of the day may, indeed, stand out positively from the rest. Here Christians, as anyone would, will be grateful for such aspects. But such thankfulness for what is gratifying does not exhaust what is meant by gratitude. In praying for gratitude Christians are asking to be responsive to a God whose nature it is to givel and to give freely and constantly. This Finding God in a Busy Day / 49 is the attitude of true humility and of spiritual poverty. The believer, the believer's family, the Christian community, and, indeed, the whole of creation, is always on the receiving end of gift. The believer has noth-ing except what is given. What is given is given to be enjoyed and to be shared. In gratitude for such gift, the Giver is received. The Christian will be trying to foster this sense of gratitude in her or his own personal life experiences. The Christian community likewise will be trying to foster a communal sense of gratitude in its life experi-ences. Those areas of life, of persons, groups, places, and events, which seem to lack gratitude will stand out in contrast. Into these areas the per-son and the community will endeavor to bring both thanksgiving and the God who is thanked. Christians will not restrict the fostering of gratitude to personal life experiences. Christians will want to foster an ever wider sense of grati-tude that will embrace larger society. Such positive social fosterings of gratitude in Christian people will raise an awareness of that lack of grati-tude which is part of the fabric and organization of wider society. Christians will notice where ingratitude, where possessiveness and greed, where pride and arrogance are at work in the world, in political and social decisions, in the way corporations and public life are orga-nized. Believers will see where God is excluded effectively from public life. Believers will notice who are the ones who suffer in consequence. Believers will see the destructive effects of communal avarice and ag-gression on the life of the very world which God has given as gift to all (see Is 45:! 8). Again the person of faith and the faithful community will endeavor to bring both thanksgiving and the God of gifts who is thanked into these social areas of life. The believer, in his or her own person, is God's most crucial gift. He or she is the gift by which all other things can be known, and known as gifts. The believer is the gift in which, and by which, the person's own giftedness can be known. Gratitude, or thanksgiving, is the attitude in which the believer acknowledges, and expresses, his or her own di-vine giftedness. Gratitude allows the believer to be gift in such a way that the Giver of the gift is also received. Without thanksgiving the individual will belittle himself or herself. When the creation which is that individual is despised, so too is the Crea-tor despised and excluded. It is obvious how important it is that grati-tude and thanksgiving be the very essence of a Christian community's shared life together. St. Paul's letters to the churches are full of such ref-erences. The Christian community's great gathering and centering of life 50 / Review for Religious, January-February 1991 is called the Thanksgiving, Eucharist. Persons with faith in the goodness of God cannot but want to prize that same sense of gift in others. Seeing the God-who-becomes-incarnate in any and every human face can have the effect of helping oth-ers to believe in themselves. Individual Christians with such awareness will be less likely to denigrate another. Christian communities with such awareness will be less likely to denigrate either individuals or other com-munities. Perhaps, even, the other individuals or other groups concerned will be less likely to denigrate themselves. Individuals, whether Chris-tian or not, with a sense of gratitude in themselves are less likely to ac-cept the denigration of others, since their affirmation and encouragement comes from "the God of all consolation" (2 Co !:3). This sense of one's own personal worth, together with the sense of worth of every other individual, as being God's handiwork and being made in God's image (see Gn 1:27), will automatically throw in relief the areas in private life and in public life where such worth is lacking or where it is being withheld. Again these areas are going to relate to particular kinds of people, particular groups, particular places, and par-ticular activities. Believers will notice the cruel effects of this version of ingratitude which would try to denigrate and undermine the sense of gift and the sense of worth in a human being, or, indeed, which would try to dispar-age whole categories of human beings. All too often we, as individuals and as members of groups in society, give worth and withhold worth ac-cording to our own immediate advantage and benefit, both as individu-als and as members of wider society. Only a God-given gratitude for all will inspire and challenge individuals and larger groups to a wider, less selfish, and less self-centered vision. It is in this moment of thanksgiving that believers spend the time that is required to become aware of their need to be grateful: to savor and be in touch with the giftedness of their own lives and living; to savor and be in touch with the God who gives, who gifts. In a world that has little practical use for God, and where aggressive consumerism, productivity, success, and achievement color all, this orientation of gratitude, in faith-ful receptivity to giftedness before God, the Giver of all good gifts (see Jm i :17), is all the more important. The very effort to become aware in gratitude helps counter any tendency to be God-forgetful. Gratitude, in fact and in desire, can help stop a person or a group of people relating to themselves, to other people, to other groups, to the events and to the places of the day in a largely self-centered manner. Finding God in a Busy Day / ~ As the effects of gratitude develop, so too does the awareness that social and political decisions affect people in similarly self-centered ways. There may grow in believers a practical commitment to greater jus-tice for all in society. Gratitude centers a person and a community on the divine reality. The individual, that individual's injustices and self-centered gratifications, and the selfishnesses of that individual's society can no longer form the center of the world. Similarly that individual's family, group or community, together with that group's own self-centered gratifications, selfishnesses, and injustices can no longer form the center of the world. Christians are opened to seeing gift in the unex-pected. Such people can be surprised by the God of surprises. This first aspect of the examen also helps put believers in a better perspective before all that has been going on in the course of the day. The attitude of thanksgiving helps center Christians on the Trinity at work moment-to-moment in the day. The word "Trini.ty" reminds Chris-tians that God is "community." To be caught up into the life of the Trin-ity is to be caught,up into the lives of all aspects of creation. To be caught up into the life of any part of creation is to be caught up into the life of the Trinity (see Mt 25:31-46). So Christians will become aware of the Trinity at work not only in private life, but in the wider life of society. Gratitude allows believers and believing communities to include more and more of life and society under the challenge of the divine benevo-lence and goodness. As gratitude, or the desire for it, touches people, so those people can enter into gratitude, and respond to it in ways that seem appropriate. It may be that an individual or a community will feel drawn to make a con-crete commitment to gratitude in some public or social manner. In some way that is real to an individual or to a community, an appropriate re-sponse will be expressed to the Trinity, to the God who gives: Father, Son, and Spirit. The Evangelist St. Luke puts the Magnifica~t (see Lk !:46-45) on the lips of Mary, the Mother of the Lord, as her appropriate response to her exulting in the great things the Lord has done for her, and following her "yes" of acceptance to the invitation of God's good-ness to be at the service of the Word. The Second Aspect: Light The second aspect is to ask for light. Since believers receive all from the gifting of the Trinity, believers ask from the Trinity the gift of wis-dom, the gift of being open to seeing as the Trinity sees. The

Issue 50.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1991. ; Review for Religious Volume 50 Number 3 May/June 1991 Paradigms for Ministry ,Religious Life and Modernity Mary, Woman for Peacemakers Atheism in Our Prayer ANNIVERSARY VOLUME Rt~vmw vo~ R~.:t,tc~ous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428: St. Louis. MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. POSTMASTER: Send address changes In Rr:v~:w ~'ou R~:~,l~;,ms: P.O. Bnx 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs: two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 R~:w~:w David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. May/June 1991 Volume 50 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~:vl~:w ~'on R~:Lt{;tot~s; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Cannnical Counsel" should be addressed to Elizabeth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue: P.O. Box 29260; Washingtnn, D.C. 20017. Back issues should be ordered from Rt~vt~:w vo~ RELI(;IOUS; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of Print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to: Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. Struggle marks these first few months of 1991. The struggle in the Middle East, whatever the good and bad results, has made even more evident in our time the futility of modern warfare as a way of solving human problems. Violent warfare breeds only further injustice in a down-ward spiral for humankind. Pope John Paul II, along with leaders in the other Christian churches, left no doubt that "just" wars (much less "holy" wars) are concepts with no meaning for our technological world. How painful a struggle it is for people of different races or ethnic origins to work together to form a single nation becomes daily more ap-parent in Africa, in India, in the Eastern European countries, and in North, Central, and South America. Poverty and wealth present another face of struggle---evident perhaps as close as our urban neighborhood and writ as large as the consumer societies of the northern hemisphere in relation to the debt-ridden nations of the southern hemisphere. And differences in religious belief and traditions still mix in with other fac-tors to stir up the seemingly endless struggle in situations as far apart as Northern Ireland, Lebanon, and Sri Lanka. In comparison with these world-situated struggles, our local strug-gles in parish life, in our religious communities, in family, and in our various ministry situations pale in significance. But local struggles still cause real pain and leave wounds that cripple our efforts, make us less faith-filled and less human, and ultimately tend to arouse in us the war-monger desires we decry "out there" in the bigger world. In the venerable tradition of the Catholic Church, Mary mother of the Lord, appears to take prominence in our faith lives at times of greater struggle. With reflections particularly appropriate to our present-day con-text, Patricia McCarthy, C.N.D., turns our focus to Mary as a woman for peacemakers. In a similar way, Jeffrey Gros, F.S.C., suggests that Mary may well play an integrating role in ecumenical relations rather than the divisive one that is traditionally projected. Perhaps with our hearts more attuned to the peacemaking role of Mary we can enter more reflectively into the struggle of our Christian and religious community lives and of our various ministries. James J. McEnroe explores new meanings for the images we use in regard to Chris-tian ministry as a way of presenting some reconciling paradigms. "The Ministry of BEing" represents Charleen Hug's attempt to bring balance to the interior struggle which people face in'the midst of their work. For his part, William Hogan, C.S.C., underscores mission as central to life together as well as to a vocational appeal. Dennis J. Billy, C.SS.R., 321 Review for Religious, May-June 1991 brings together some traditional and modern approaches taken to moral theology and the special symbol role of religious life within this disci-pline. Perhaps he points a way to understanding how religious life and peacemaking are meant necessarily to be congruent. Other writers turn our attention to some alleviating factors in the strug-gle areas of our community lives--whatever form community may take for us. Mary Carboy, S.S.J., stresses hospitality, Donald Macdonald, S.M.M., considers courtesy, and Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D., imagina-tively suggests various lubricants for community living. With a specific focus on the life of women and men religious, Albert Dilanni, S.M., pre-sents some insightful reflections to situate the current struggles about re-ligious- life identity. Gerald Arbuckle, S.M., looks at leadership and its organic role in the struggle of refounding. The area of formation in the light of structural sin and structural conversion is the concern of David Couturier, O.F.M.Cap. Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M., gives us further food for thought about the confused issue of membership as new ways of associating people into religious organizations and activities are be-ing explored. Our ultimate struggle, of course, is our relationship with God. One very important aspect of that struggle is caught in the paradoxical title of David J. Hassel's "Atheism in Our Prayer." Just as the biblical ac-count of Jacob's wrestling with an angel mirrors at times our own strug-gles to respond to the continuing conversion calls from the Lord, so Has-sel tries to shed light into the areas of darkness and apparent absence of God that are often a part of developing faith life. In prayer, in community, and in mission we look to Mary to intro-duce us ever more deeply into the ways of her Son, the Son of peace. Perhaps the Marian mantra for our times is captured in the traditional "Mary, queen of peace, pray for us." David L. Fleming, S.J. Paradigms for Ministry: Old Images, New Meanings James J. McEnroe, Th.D. Father McEnroe, of the St. Louis archdiocese, teaches pastoral theology at Kenrick Seminary and has helped facilitate some programs for the archdiocesan Office of Min-istry. His address is Kenrick Seminary; 5200 Glennon Drive; St. Louis, Missouri 63119. Recently, during a class session in which the topic "Paradigms for Min-istry" was being discussed, a student observed that it is difficult to find meaning in some of the traditional paradigms for ministry, especially those derived from another culture and another time. ~ The paradigms that the student was referring to are some of the more traditional in Christian theology and in the Bible. These paradigms are pilgrim, servant, prophet, and shepherd.2 Each of them, if they are to be meaningful, must be retrieved and reinterpreted in the light of a contemporary understand-ing of ministry, including the skills necessary to live out those paradigms in ministry. In this article each paradigm will be discussed, with special consideration given to its biblical roots, its contemporary meaning, and the skills required to live it out in ministry. Finally, some conclusions will be drawn concerning ministry today, especially the demands placed on persons who are engaged in or preparing for ministry, in the church or in the marketplace. Paradigm (paradeigmatizo) means "to make an example of." Para-digms emerge from an attempt to think about something from within our own experience. Paradigms are by their very nature incomplete; that is, they are helpful constructs with which to speak about a particular reality but which always fall short of that reality. If paradigms are to make sense, therefore, they must resonate with our experience in ministry. 323 324 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 And, if we are to put those paradigms into practice in ministry, we must gain the skills necessary to do so. Pilgrim The paradigm of pilgrim evokes the image of a journey. The Greek word (anabaino) means "to go up to." In the New Testament the fol-lowers of Christ are called nonresident aliens (para-epi-demos), because they were on a pilgrimage to their true homeland, which is connected in-timately with the reign of God. The first epistle of Peter (1:1) is ad-dressed to "those who live as strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Gala-tia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia.' ,3 The image conveyed in the para-digm, at least as it is found in the Christian Bible, is that of persons who know where they are going, but who need to travel through some un-known territory in order to get there. In the Bible these pilgrims are pre-sumed to be traveling on foot, taking one step at a time, and in a rather systematic, that is, orderly, way.4 As with any travelers, pilgrims must possess certain skills, which be-come tools of their trade. Pilgrims are confronted with the need to read road maps, recognize the meaning of signposts, and investigate the proper means of conveyance in order to reach their destination. Those traveling to areas with which they are unfamiliar, for example, soon dis-cover that, unless one of their party possesses a sense of direction and is skilled in the art of map reading, the journey can become inconven-ient, even treacherous. C.S. Lewis, in his Pilgrim's Regress, says that pilgrims must pos-sess the ability to use certain instrumentation on their journey. One of Lewis's characters, a young man named John, is being instructed in the ways of the world by his elders. He cannot understand their suggestions, however. The elders are supposed tO be his guides. Yet, as Lewis points out, if John does not learn to navigate on his own he will be forever at the mercy of other would-be guides.5 At one point in the story, a stew-ard slips a card containing some rules into John's hand, at which point a question is posed. "What use are rules to people who cannot read?''6 If those engaged in or preparing for ministry cannot use the tools of their trade and do not possess practical knowledge, they will be forever at the mercy of other, perhaps less competent, guides. The skills that are required for putting the paradigm of pilgrim into practice in ministry are called instrumental skills. They are the skills of the mind and of the hands: of cognition, of artisanship, and of one's min-istry. The origin of instrumental skills relates to the development of tools in the history of the human community, and to the personal dexterity re- Pardigms for Ministry quired to use them.7 It is difficult to imagine someone ministering in today's Church who is unable to use a computer, which is really an advanced form of the quill or pen. It is equally difficult to imagine someone ministering who is un-able to express himself or herself clearly and effectively, either in pub-lic speaking or in writing. Since ministry today requires both planning and evaluation, it is essential also for those engaged in it to be able to plan programs effectively and to evaluate them when they are completed. There is also a body of practical knowledge, for example, theology, Scrip-ture, and Church history, that is essential for ministry today. It is common to hear persons engaged in ministry complain about be-ing required to attend computer training courses, time-management and stress-management classes, or opportunities for continuing theological education. When asked why they are complaining, persons in ministry may say, "Because I am too busy and tired." Which perhaps demon-strates that time management and stress management are necessary in-strumental skills for today's ministers. While they may complain, min-isters are doing themselves, as well as those with whom and for whom they work, a great service by acquiring the necessary instrumental skills for their work. If we are going to be pilgrim people, we must possess the skills re-quired to be the best of pilgrims. We must, with God's help, be able to chart our course and read the signposts and thereby successfully negoti-ate the journey. Servant The second paradigm, that of servant, evokes an image of one who assists others. In the New Testament the word servant (doulos) is actu-ally a title of honor, which was claimed by Paul and by the disciples of Jesus. In the letter to the Romans (1:1), Paul refers to himself as a "ser-vant of Christ Jesus." The servant paradigm, at least among the early Christians, had lost its pejorative meaning. In fact, those who assisted others in the community were called servants (douleo) because that was their ministry.8 In the Church today there are many ministries that are ministries of service: for example, spiritual direction, pastoral counseling, evangeli-zation, and youth ministry. These,'and other ministries of service, re-quire certain skills that allow the ministers to walk with those with whom they minister and to whom they are sent. Karl Rahner, in his Servants of the Lord, says that ministry is by its very nature service, not status. He adds that service must be seen always 326 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 in reference to the community. Service requires ministers to be with and to walk with others who are on their own journeys in life.9 The skills necessary for serving others are called interpersonal skills. They bring about human cooperation, they enhance human interaction. ~0 In fact, the Church, in its traditional understanding of ministry, equates it with service. Ann Wilson Schaef, in her book The Addictive Organi-zation, points out that we live in a world of codependents, rather than in an interdependent world. Dysfunctions in the family of origin makes it very difficult for an incr.easingly large number of persons to work ef-fectively in cooperative and collaborative settings.t~ Since those preparing for or engaged in ministry are products of their environment, both familial and societal, and since environment deter-mines to a large extent the strengths as well as the weaknesses which per-sons bring to ministry, today's ministers must work especially hard to develop and maintain their interpersonal skills. In the Church today there is a clear call for collaborative ministry, that is, for teams of women and men working together for the good of the Church. Ironically, for some of the aforementioned reasons, many of those choosing ministry as their vocation would rather work alone. They are not team players, perhaps because they have not learned the skills necessary for cooperation and for successful human interaction. ~2 For a significant number of persons preparing for or engaged in min-istry, there are several interpersonal skills that are difficult to put into practice in their lives and in their ministries. One of those skills is con-frontation. Perhaps the difficulty lies in the assumption that confronta-tion, which requires the honest expression of emotion and assertiveness, is not the Christian thing to do. When those engaged in ministry experi-ence conflicts between themselves and others, they must confront the per-son or persons with whom there is a conflict--which is perhaps the only Christian thing to do. Confrontation is the ability to name and express one's inner reaction, usu-ally emotional, to an external event, especially but not exclusively when it involves an unpleasant encounter. Confrontation is like holding up a mir-ror so that others can see themselves. Confrontation should be used with honesty and care to address another person's behavior, when that behav-ior is appropriate and when it is inappropriate. It is essential, both for life and for ministry, to skillfully confront problematic situations so that com-munication and understanding can lead to more successful ministry. Instrumental and interpersonal skills, therefore, are basic skills for anyone engaged in or preparing for ministry. And, more often than not, Paradigms for Ministry / 327 instrumental and interpersonal skills are acquired at the same time. In fact, they are complementary. They enhance the minister's ability to meet the technical demands of ministry and to communicate more effec-tively with others on a daily basis. Perhaps a concrete example of the interaction and interdependence of instrumental and interpersonal skills will be helpful. The ministry of spiritual direction, which more and more persons are requesting, requires directors to possess certain instrumental skills. Directors must know the techniques of direction and be versed in spiritual theology and sacred Scripture. They must also possess certain interpersonal skills. They must hear accurately the issues presented by directees and reflect back to them what they hear. Instrumental skills, for the most part, must be acquired. Interpersonal skills, on the other hand, can be innate. But more often than not they need to be acquired. Perhaps, at meetings with technically competent per-sons, we have seen the participants "sharing" insights with one another and yet not hearing one another, or at least not reflecting back to the speak-ers what they heard. The purpose of such reflecting back, of course, is to give the speakers a sense of being heard and the listeners a chance to check out what the speakers are saying. Formation programs for minis-try, as well as many professional schools, teach and foster not only the instrumental skills necessary for their professions, but also the interper-sonal skills necessary for cooperation and collaboration. This is both en~ couraging and timely. Persons engaged in or preparing for ministry today face the challenge of acquiring the instrumental and interpersonal skills that are necessary for their vocation. Skilled helpers are not only good pilgrims, but they are also more effective servants, offering companionship, guidance, and support. Prophet The third paradigm is that of prophet, which all too often evokes the image of a wild-eyed eccentric ranting and raving against someone or something. In the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, the prophets (nevi' im) are seers, interpreters of God's activity in the midst of the peo-ple. 13 The prophets see things that others have not seen, cannot see, or refuse to see. Because the prophets are persons of extraordinary faith and commitment to the community, they name the action of God in the midst of the community. In Luke's gospel (2:36-38), for example, the prophet Anna brings the news of the Messiah to those who wait for his coming. She sees, be- ~121~ / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 cause she is a woman of prayer and self-denial, what others have not seen. Like other prophet.s in the Bible, she possesses extraordinary vi-sion. In the Acts of the Apostles (2:4, 17-18; 19:6) and in the Book of Revelation (10:11 and 18:20), we are reminded that on Pentecost the gift of prophetic imagination was renewed by the Holy Spirit and the gift of prophetic vision was given to the community of faith. The disciples saw and heard. And they announced to others the Good News of salvation. More importantly, they exhorted the community to live in the light of the redemption, and they consoled those who were frightened or weary. Their prophetic vision was .their ministry and their gift to the commu-nity of faith, the Church. 14 Gerald Arbuckle says that the refounding of religious life, and per-haps of the Church itself, will be accomplished by persons who possess a charismatically inspired and well-developed imagination. 15 The proph-ets will be those who seek out new ways of doing things. They will be inspired by a prophetic imagination and by the Spirit of God. 16 They will be both intuitive and imaginative. And, at times, they will be misunder-stood by their contemporaries and even by their colleagues, sometimes simply because they will find it difficult to communicate their insights to others, for whom the insights will seem outrageous and ill-advised. 17 Walter Brueggemann, in his book The Prophetic Imagination, points out that the task of prophetic persons, like that of their forebears whose lives are recounted in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, is to nurture and to nourish their communities by evoking a consciousness and a per-ception of reality that is often different from that of the dominant cul-ture. 18 Prophetic persons challenge those within the dominant culture, who are unwilling to go beyond the scope of common sense or the pre-vailing wisdom and who say, "This is the way that we have always done things" or "If it is not broke then do not fix it." The key to cultivating a prophetic vision is to learn and to enhance imaginal skills. Those wanting to develop their imagination must engage in projects and educational experiences that encourage them to search for possibly better ways of doing things than the way they have always been done--even improvements on "common sense." Imaginal skills enable one to generate new ideas and alternative so-lutions. 19 Imaginal skills arise in the interaction between fantasy, emo-tions, and the reflective intellect. These skills allow persons to miniatur-ize, to organize, and to reflect accurately on data gathered from their en-vironment and from the five senses.2° Imaginal skills are acquired some-what differently than instrumental and interpersonal skills. To acquire or Paradigms for Ministry / 329 to develop imaginal skills, women and men must associate and work with other imaginative and creative persons. This, however, requires that cer-tain instrumental and interpersonal skills are firmly in place. Imagina-tion is developed also through attentiveness to, participating in, or ap-preciating the arts. For some, especially for those whose imaginal skills are less well developed, imaginative and creative persons often appear to be flying by the seat of their pants. And in some ways they are. Pro-phetic persons often find little support in their communities because their suggestions seem distant and even frightening to the less imaginative.2~ People commonly criticize persons in their community who are "pains." In reality, those "pains" may be creative and imaginative, but they may lack the necessary skills (instrumental and interpersonal) to communicate with others. Imaginal skills that are necessary for anyone attempting to live out the paradigm of prophet are resourcefulness and experimentation. These skills facilitate progress---even if their attempts sometimes lead to fail-ure. 22 At such times imaginative and creative persons may appear flighty and irresponsible. To prevent avoidable failure, they need to select from the imagined alternatives not only concrete but practical and construc-tive solutions to the problems with which their communities are faced.23 People usually acquire imaginal skills after acquiring instrumental and interpersonal skills because, with instrumental and interpersonal skills, they begin to experience and appreciate their autonomy while still rec-ognizing their connectedness to the community of faith.24 If persons are going to live out the paradigm of prophet, they must possess a prophetic imagination, as well as certain instrumental and in-terpersonal skills. Communities of faith need the gift of prophetic imagi-nation just as much today as at the time of the prophets of old. Shepherd Finally, there is the paradigm of shepherd, which evokes the rustic image of a person with staff in hand leading the sheep down a treacher-ous hillside. The paradigm may seem even more problematic if one re-alizes how dumb sheep really are. Yet in Luke's gospel it was the shep-herds who were among the first to be informed of the Messiah's birth (2:8-20). And in the epistle to the Ephesians (4:1 l) the apostles and their successors, who exercised a ministry of leadership in the community of faith, are referred to as shepherd-leaders ~n the Christian commumty. Gerald Arbuckle notes that leaders in religious congregations, and by analogy in the Church itself, are called to be problem solvers. They must be highly rational and organized persons. They must be able to Iogi- 330 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 cally analyze problems, to take the advice and counsel of others, and to implement the likely solutions.25 Leaders in ministry are called, there-fore, to help create and to share a vision with others, often in consulta-tion and in collaboration with prophetic persons, with servants, and with the great mass of those along their pilgrim way. Leadership in the Church today requires the development of system skills. Leadership requires both an acute sense of the direction in which commu-nities are headed and the ability to help them to get where they should be headed. Yet many persons with these system skills are frustrated. Their psychic and spiritual energies are drained because they face enormous fi-nancial problems and ever increasing personnel issues. Leaders today are expected to keep their communities financially stable and to meet the emo-tional and spiritual needs of the community members. Many leaders spend so much time maintaining the community and its members that they have little time or energy to help create the long-term solutions to the problems. As a friend said recently, "Anyone who yearns for or covets leadership in the Church today deserves to be a leader!" In light of the aforementioned demands, it is reasonable to assume that leaders do not have to be the prophetic or imaginative persons in the community, although a healthy dose of prophetic imagination helps. Lead-ership does require, however, the ability to recognize imaginative and creative solutions to problems and to coordinate the various gifts and skills of the community. System skills require a blend of imagination (imaginal skill), inter-personal sensitivity (interpersonal skill), and instrumental competence (in-strumental skill). System skills enable those who possess them to see how the parts of a community (diocese, religious congregation, parish, or organization) relate to the whole. System skills are not necessarily man-agement skills, although leadership may require a person to be a good manager, to make sound financial decisions (instrumental skill) and to relate well to persons within the system (interpersonal skill). System skills do, however, allow one to plan for change, especially when a change of direction is necessary for the health of the system in question. As Brian Hall says, persons who possess system skills see "the simple unity of it all."26 Shepherd-leaders see the big picture. And they are willing to take the necessary risks that will allow their communities to grow and to pros-per. Shepherd-leaders, because they possess system skills, seldom get trapped by shortsighted and wrongheaded solutions to complex prob-lems. While the solutions they endorse may sound extremely simple, Paradigms for Ministry / 331 even naive, they often embody an inherent wisdom and even God's will and desire for the community itself. An example of a system skill is system recognition, the ability to read the present and future needs of the community.27 At a deeper level, system recognition allows shepherd-leaders to read the signs of the times as they are significant for the community itself. Of course, the challenge to "read the signs of the times" was enunciated at the Second Vatican Council. Pope John XXIII possessed the skills necessary for his pro-phetic and imaginative shepherd-leadership. There is a picture, actually an icon, of Pope John holding a scroll on which the following verse ap-pears: "We are not on earth to guard a museum, but to cultivate a flour-ishing garden of life." The attitude behind that quotation summarizes the attitude with which shepherd-leaders carry out their task. Of course, shepherd-leaders must be able to distinguish between myth and reality, between a bright idea and a right idea.28 System skills allow those who possess them to discern more easily whether the direc-tion in which the system (diocese, congregation, parish, or organization) is headed is in accord with God's will and desire. Persons preparing for or engaged in leadership ministry must learn or develop system skills in order to be shepherd-leaders within their com-munities of faith. It has been said that the paradigm of the shepherd is both outdated and irrelevant. Perhaps, as we put the paradigm into a new context, namely into a system perspective, we can appreciate it in a new way by retrieving its original meaning and beauty, even within a largely nonagrarian culture. Through the Bible and through theology, the Church has been blessed with some very rich paradigms for life and for ministry. These paradigms (pilgrim, servant, prophet, and shepherd), if they are to be lived out in ministry, require the development of certain skills. Practical Conclusions There are some practical conclusions that flow from an understand-ing of the paradigms for ministry that were discussed in this article. First, skill development is sequential. Second, effective ministry requires that skills be identified in and shared among the members of a community. Third, as persons reach a certain level of skill development, they are con-fronted with the need to acquire higher levels of skills in the four skill areas (instrumental, interpersonal, imaginal, and system). Finally, life-long learning and continuing education are required for anyone engaged in ministry today. First, skill development is sequential. Instrumental and interpersonal 3~12 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 skills are developed conjointly. One learns to think and to perform man-ual tasks while learning to relate to other persons in the environment. Dur-ing childhood, for example, we learned to read and write while we learned to relate to others. The process is the same in adulthood, except that the reading, writing, and relating require a higher level of skill de-velopment. Formation programs for ministry in the Church are, hope-fully, teaching those who participate in them theology and the traditions of the Church and of the communities to which they will be sent. They are teaching the participants also to pray. All of these are instrumental skills. Formation programs teach people how to relate to others more ef-fectively and to integrate their lifestyle (married, single, or celibate) into their ministry; these are interpersonal skills. As persons acquire instrumental and interpersonal skills, through for-mal education their energies are directed toward convergent thinking, that is, toward remembering and reproducing what is already known. It is necessary, therefore, to develop within those preparing for ministry the capacity for divergent thinking, which is a requirement for prophetic ministry. 29 Divergent thinking leads to new ideas and new ways of doing things. Gerald Arbuckle describes divergent thinkers as "intrapreneurs," whose task is to revitalize existing corporate cultures (dioceses, congregations, parishes, or religious communities). He describes entrepreneurs as those whose task is to establish new ventures outside the existing corporate struc-ture, yet who have close ties to that structure.3° Intrapreneurs must pos-sess high levels of system skills, and entrepreneurs must possess high lev-els of imaginal skills. In order to be effective, ministers must continue to develop skills in the areas that are appropriate for the ministries in which they are engaged. Second, skills for ministry are most effective when they are shared among a group of persons working cooperatively and collaboratively. As St. Paul said in l Corinthians 12:4-7, "There are different gifts but the same Spirit; there are different ministries but the same Lord." While very few individuals possess notable skill in all of the skill areas, a team of persons may possess all those skills to a notable degree. The more gifted and skilled the collaborators, the more effective their ministry will be. One person, within a group of persons working together, may pos-sess the ability to commit the group's wisdom to paper or even to do some-thing as practical as writing a proposal or a request for a grant. Another person may possess the ability to relate to others in the group and in so Paradigms for Ministry ! 333 doing make the entire team more efficient and effective. Another team member may be imaginative, dreaming up solutions to problems facing the group. Another member may be able to see how the group's activi-ties fit into the overall scheme of the larger community's (diocese, par-ish, or religious congregation) life and mission. The more diverse the skills of the collaborators or coministers, the more efficient and effec-tive their ministry will be. Third, as ministers reach a certain level of skill development, they discover a need to acquire skills at higher levels in order to meet the in-creased demands of their life and ministry. Perhaps some examples will be helpful. Many persons in ministry today find themselves spending time and energy writing talks and proposals. They are learning, there-fore, to use computers and other high-tech communication equipment-- which, of course, requires them to develop more sophisticated instrumen-tal skills. It is also necessary today, especially for those engaged in ministry or in religious life, to become more skilled participants in meetings and in other group endeavors. This requires the development of better inter-personal skills. As ministers plan for their own corporate ministry and for ministering within their communities, there is an increasing need for persons with imaginal and system skills to be working with their col-leagues in ministry. Persons in ministry today must, then, bring to their cooperative en-deavors their own skills and talents. With those skills and talents, the ef-forts of the ministering community will be successful; without them those efforts may be in vain. Finally, if the skills needed to meet the inc.reasing demands of min-istry are to be developed, persons engaged in or preparing for ministry must make a commitment to lifelong learning. Perhaps congregations of men and women religious were the first to recognize this fact and to de-velop continuing-education programs for their members. Today dioceses are developing programs for the continuing education of priests and dea-cons, as well as formation programs and continuing-education programs for nonordained persons in ministry. Persons in ministry do value and use the continuing-education and formation programs at their disposal in order to meet the demands made upon them in the Church in particular and in society at large. Our theological and biblical heritage contains a wealth of paradigms for life and for ministry. We are pilgrims on a journey of faith. We are called to care for one another along that journey. We are invited to dis- 334/Review for Religious, May-June 1991 cern the movement of God's Spirit in our midst as we journey. Finally, we are commissioned to be shepherd-leaders. May our communities of faith be blessed with pilgrims, servants, prophets, and shepherd-leaders skilled enough to build up the body, the Church, and to usher in the reign of God. NOTES I Michael T. Winstanley's article "The Shepherd Image in the Scriptures: A Para-digm for Ministry" (Clergy Review 71 [June 1986]: 197-206), which focuses on the paradigm of shepherd from a biblical perspective, was an inspiration for the class presentation that elicited the student's observation. Winstanley's presentation of the shepherding image invited reflection on the skills that are necessary in order to put that image into practice. That reflection raised the issue of the need to put other equally helpful paradigms into a contemporary context. 2 I am using both prophet and shepherd as gender-inclusive words. 3 The biblical quotations in this article are from the New American Bible. 4 Xavier L6on-Dufour, Dictionary of the New Testament, trans. Terrence Prender-gast (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1980), p. 324. 5 C.S. Lewis, The Pilgrim's Regress (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1944), pp. 15f. 6 lbid, p. 193. 7 Brian P. Hall, The Genesis Effect (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), pp. 99f. 8 L6on-Dufour, p. 368. 9 Karl Rahner, Servants of the Lord (Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1968), p. 6. 10 Hall, p. 100. 11 Anne Wilson Schaef, The Addictive Organization (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988), p. 96. 12 lbid, p. 100. 13 John E. Steinmueller and Kathryn Sullivan, R.S.C.J., Catholic Biblical Encyclo-pedia (New York: Joseph F. Wagner, 1950), p. 527. i,~ L~on-Dufour, p. 338. 15 Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p: 1. 16 lbid, p. 14. 17 Ibid, pp. 30f. 18 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 13. 19 Hall, p. 100. 20 Janet Kalven, Larry Rosen, and Bruce Taylor, Value Development: A Practical Guide (New York: Paulist Press, 1982), p. 23. 2~ Arbuckle, pp. 30f. 26 Hall, p. 147. 22 Kalven et al., p. 26. 27 Kalven et al., p. 31. 23 Ibid. 28 Ibid. 24 Hall, p. 143. 29 Kalven et al., p. 125. 25 Arbuckle, p. 31. 30 Arbuckle, p. 33. The Ministry of BEing M. Charleen Hug, S.N.D. Sister Mary Charleen Hug, S.N.D., wrote "Celibacy: Gift of a Woman's Love" for our issue of September/October 1988. Her address is 3837 Secor Road; Toledo, Ohio 43623. What an exciting age for apostolic women religious! Never before in the history of the Church have there been so many diverse ministries open to them. My people are homeless, shelter them. My people are starving, feed them. My people are oppressed, unshackle them. My people are ignorant, teach them. The lure is there. The challenge is there. The need is there. Called and sent, committed and dedicated to the cause for peace and justice, women religious now head health clinics, retreat centers. They serve in parish ministry, as pastoral associates. They are found in class-rooms, in the mission fields, in hospices for the terminally ill. They are chairpersons on national committees and help staff diocesan offices. They are participants in marches for the plight of the homeless and in protest against nuclear buildup. They take their stand against abortion, racism, and the arms race. They are engaged in all of these ministries and more. More, because there will always be the more. With the two talents I give you, says Jesus in a parable, go and make two more; with five barley loaves and two fish, feed the five thousand; all that I have done, so will you do---all this and even more! In return for the more I will reward even a cup of cold water given in my name, says Jesus. Our present age takes this more seriously, for it is the age of minis- 335 336 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 try. One more act of service to perform, one more cause to support, one more lesson to prepare, one more meeting to attend. The global village is shrinking. Impersonal people "out there" have become our brothers and sisters with very real needs that we can no longer ignore. Address-ing these needs in Jesus' name in view of the gifts and abilities with which we have been blessed is what Christian ministry is all about. For the deeply committed religious it would seem at times that this very min-istry sustains, as though that were part of the hundredfold promised. This is indeed a very blessing because experience soon proves that no matter how many ministries we take on, no matter how effectively and effi-ciently we labor, there will always be the more that is needed--more that cries out to us for fulfillment. Without great vigilance on our part we can all too readily fall into the do-list trap of evaluating the seeming "suc-cess" and "failure" of any given day by the number of items we have managed to cross off our daily list come nightfall. Because continuous do-ing drains, our present age calls apostolic women religious just as loudly to the ministry basic to all ministries, the ministry without which all do-ing becomes meaningless, empty, namely the ministry of be-ing. This ministry will be neither underwritten nor ig-nored without serious consequences not only to do-ing, but also to all that we are. Is it because the ministry of be-ing is so basic to who we are in essence that we rarely take heed of it? Do we take it so for granted that we fail to provide the time and solitude necessary to cultivate, nour-ish, and cherish it? How often, amidst all of our do-ing, do we set aside time to praise and thank God for this ministry for which each person quali-fies, in which each person can excel? In solitude the truth of "what you do flows from who you are" takes in-depth meaning. In solitude we look to Jesus, for whom, to whom, through whom we minister. In the beginning was the Word: the Word was with God and the Word was God . Through him all things came to be, not one thing had its be-ing but through him .The Word was made flesh and lived among us. (John 1:1, 14). The Word had so brief a time in which to perform the greatest min-istry this world would ever know. In the span of just thirty-three years Jesus had to be the fulfillment of the entire Old Testament, make his Fa-ther known and loved, and secure the redemption of every soul his Fa-ther would love into life. Given this ministry Jesus chose to devote the first thirty of these years to the ministry of be-ing God-made-man. When his active apostolic ministry did commence, "I AM!" identified who he was and why he "dwelt among us." He showed himself to be bread for The Ministry of BEing the hungry, drink for the thirsty, comfort for the sorrowing, compassion for the sinner, friend of simple souls, rest for the weary, light in the dark-ness, perfect image of the Father, I AM the way, the truth, the life. That Jesus' mission of be-ing was misunderstood by those to whom he minis-tered is evidenced by those who jeered. What good are you doing hanging there! Come down from the cross and do! There are still illnesses that need to be healed, sins that need to be forgiven, lessons that need to be taught, so much that we still do not un-derstand. Come down from the cross and do! By remaining on the cross Jesus became the supreme example of the relationship between be-ing and do-ing. It was in be-ing the sacrifical Lamb of God that all do-ing for all time would take on eternal value. By be-ing Resurrection and the Life he gave to each person (as inheritance!) eternal be-ing with the Father! Each of us is a be-ing created in the im-age of the Father! To remain true to this essence it is paramount that, in the midst of and because of all the ministries that demand our do-ing, we spend ample time daily in solitude. Then, while "surrounded on all sides by the crowds," as 'Jesus was, we, too, will know when someone has "touched us." We, too, will experience that "something has gone forth from [us]." Someone has called forth from "who we are" the very reason "that we are." We will discover why we are there: why we are there; why we are there amidst that particular crowd of people. In soli-tude we come to see that it is not sufficient that we praise God through our ministry; we long to be his praise. It is not sufficient that we thank God; we long to be his thanksgiving. We are not content to spread his goodness; we desire to be his goodness. It is not enough that we speak to others of his beauty; we long to be a tiny part of that beauty--and of that peace, that joy, that love! Such subtleties are not gleaned in the mar-ketplace. When it comes time for the belt that Jesus said would be tied around our waist leading us to where we would rather not go (see Jn 21 : 18), thus perhaps ending our ministry of do-ing, even if temporarily, we will em-brace that "belt." In the midst of our do-ing we will have sensitized our-selves to hear a Voice beckoning us: Be daughter of the Father, special possession of the Son, bride of the Spirit. Be she in whom the Father delights, she for whom the heavens were made. Be home of the Trinity, safekeeping for the kept secrets of the King. Be she whom the Father surrounds with his presence, enfolds with his tender love. Be faithful daughter of holy Mother the Church. Be an altar for the offering of a sacrifice of pure love, praise, and Review for Religious, May-June 1991 reverence to God. Be the dove sheltered in the clefts of the rocks, long-ing to see the face of God. Be garden enclosed, the fountain sealed. Be the fire set ablaze that Christ came to cast upon the earth. The Voice beckons further extending our parameters: My people are victims of injustice, be their righteousness. My people are suffering from painful diseases, be their relief. My people are lonely and without a shepherd, be their friend. My people are killing each other, be the peace between them. Be the missionary you always longed to be, spreading the joyful mes-sage that the kingdom of God is here, now. Be witness of the fidelity of a merciful God who loves jealously, passionately, infinitely. Be a bea-con of hope to those whose light has grown dim. Be a wounded healer by gathering up the pain of the world and offering it to the Father. Be a caring, compassionate, companion on the journey. Be for those en-trusted to you, those who depend on your be-ing. Be all things to all peo-ple. As in the case of the ministry of do-ing the ministry of be-ing like-wise demands the more, the infinitely more. More joy, more love, more peace, more patience . The more we embrace this ministry, the more it will embrace us. The more perceptive we become to living this minis-try, the more fully alive we become. The more we treasure this minis-try, the more it becomes our priceless treasure. It is an inexhaustible min-istry with inexhaustible fringe benefits just waiting to be claimed. The ministry of be-ing can be the pledge, the promise, and the prized pos-session of every apostolic woman religious. It is this reality that makes the present age an exciting one indeed in which to minister! Religious Life and Modernity Albert Dilanni, S.M. Father Dilanni taught philosophy for thirteen years, served as provincial of the North-east Province (U.S.A.) for six years, and has been vicar general of the Marist Fa-thers since 1985. His address is: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio, 63; 00152 Roma, Italy. There are many ways of describing what has happened in the last twenty-five years since Vatican II. Historians say that there has been a shakeout after each ecumenical council and that approximately twenty-five years are required for the spirit of a council to take root and bear its best fruit. Commentators on the development of religious life since Vatican II seem to concur in this. They now present this development in three stages: (1) the rigidity prior to Vatican II, (2) the immediate chaos after Vatican II, and (3) the current period of sober reassessment with its talk of refoun-dation. Some CARA consultants name these stages Paradigms I, II, and III. Vatican II was an effort in openness and aggiornamento. Its changes were radical. The council recognized the ecclesial reality of other Chris-tian religions, opened the way to dialogue with non-Christian religions, took a radically new position on religious freedom, realized the independ-ent goodness of the secular world, called for a renewal of the liturgy and of religious life, recognizing that through baptism the laity are called to the same degree of holiness as priests and religious. All very heady at the time, exhilarating and in many ways very posi-tive and productive. Vatican II brought the Church face-to-face with the world and urged it to view it in its glory as well as its weakness. I do not think anyone really wants to go back. But even Vatican II had its shadow side. One of its results was that Catholicism in general and re-ligious life in particular seemed less important. When personal con- 339 ~141~ / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 science was exalted, when sin and hell were deemphasized in favor of love and heaven, when the great enemies of Protestant theology were quoted side by side with Rahner and Lonergan, when many distinctions were blurred and the Catholic ghetto vanished--there was no longer a dragon to kill. Now, while enemies, distinctions, ghettos, and dragons are not always eminently desirable, they did provide one thing: identity. Their removal was a major r.ea.son why the principal question exercising the Church and religious congregations since Vatican II has been ad nau-seam the question of identity. What does it mean to be a Catholic, a re-ligious, a Jesuit, a Carmelite, a Marist? But the identity question had other nonecclesiastical sources. The post-Vatican II world found itself engulfed in a cultural upheaval which it did not cause. Religious congregations were not simply surrounded by a materialistic and skeptical culture, they were immersed in it. It had in-filtrated the convent walls. Tillard says that the failure of enthusiasm, passion, and wholeheartedness apparent in religious is rooted in a shift in belief, a hesitancy of faith. Walter Kasper has remarked that what we combat today is not only an external atheism, but an atheism within our own hearts. Cultural modernity has been analyzed and reanalyzed as the on-slaught of secularization. ~ It was as if in the second half of our century the Enlightenment had reached the masses. What up to the present were ideas of intellectuals, philosophers, and cranky atheists, now, due to bet-ter communication and general education, became the fabric of culture at large. The well-documentated cultural revolution which has been play-ing itself out since the 1960s seemed to be a quantitative expansion of ideas which had been around since the eighteenth century. But Paul Ricoeur underlines that the Enlightenment has passed through two distinct stages. We might even speak of a first and second Enlightenment, that of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and the different one which began in the nineteenth and flowered in the twenti-eth century. Both began with doubt, methodic doubt, but the first went back to consciousness and found certitude, while the second in returning to con-sciousness found only suspicion. Descartes began by doubting everything methodically, but banished doubt because he believed we could find a place of certitude in consciousness. Even doubting was a form of think-ing, and the one thing I could .not doubt was that "I think." Cogito, ergo sum. At the center of consciousness was a source of clarity and dis-tinctness (les idles claires et distinctes), a way of banishing skepticism Religious Life and Modernity about the existence of the world or the truth of morality. Thus the first Enlightenment was characterized by an exaltation of the human subject and an overconfidence in a certain type of reason. Its champion was Kant, for whom the subject in the act of knowing became a partial crea-tor of the object known. But the second Enlightenment, grounded in Marx, Freud, and Nietzsche, was quite different. Commencing similarly with scientific me-thodical doubt, these thinkers also turned to the conscious and thinking subject but found there not a place of certitude but another ground for suspicion. For them human consciousness turned out to be a creator of illusions, the fabricator of masks, the great pretender. Consciousness it-self was in need of unmasking. This is the case especially when it con-cocts religions. Religion was the deception par excellence. It was an opium creating lassitude among oppressed peoples (Marx), it was a col-lective obsessive neurosis (Freud), it was a cover for a will to power pres-ent in the hearts of the weak and envious (Nietzsche). Leaving aside the fine nuance present in their systems, we can say that for these thinkers consciousness spins illusory language about God to hide what men and women really desire: sexual gratification, wealth, and power. This modern atheism, the atheism of consciousness as pretender, has with legitimacy been called a "beautiful" atheism. It has an ethical side and bears a moral, attraction. It is born of the desire to avoid masks and pretensions. The modem atheist is an atheist because he does not want to remain in a false consciousness. He wants to be honest; he does not want to tell a lie. The great modern drive, the drive of the second En-lightenment is to be authentic, not to worship an idol. For this reason, too, its geniuses Freud, Marx, and Nietzsche can present themselves as moralists. This is why Sartre can present belief in God as bad faith. Con-sciousness, in the second Enlightenment, is the escape artist, the artful dodger. Consciousness reaches salvation when it strives to catch itself at its own artifices. In light of this we can explain two moral phenomena which have oc-curred in our lifetime. First, the fact that, for many people of the twen-tieth century, hypocrisy became the great sin and sincerity the great vir-tue. (This has been documented by Lionel Trilling.) It was hypocrisy not to admit who and what you were. If you were gay, you must say it. If you were committing adultery, you must admit it. Being moral meant coming out of various closets. But unfortunately many people failed to ask the question whether acting out according to the instincts of these closets was good or bad. Some decided that anything was allowed as :342 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 long as you owned up to it. Others, plagued by a secret guilt, tried to have everyone approve whht they were doing privately; they wanted their private morality publicly sanctioned. The other phenomenon characteristic of the second Enlightenment was that contemporary thinkers were more interested in meaning than in truth. This explains the death of apologetics in the last twenty-five years. Hugo Meynell bemoans the fact that the last real apologist was C.S. Le-wis. Today, he complains, theologians are more concerned to show that Christianity is relevant. What floods the market is writing on the social and political implications of Christianity, or on its power to lead us to a fuller and more authentic personal life. Admitting the importance of such writing, he believes, nevertheless, that a serious apologetic which looks beyond meaning to truth is absolutely indispensable for the Church and that many of its present ills are due to a neglect of it. Without a proper apologetics, says Meynell, "the unbeliever is apt to infer that edu-cated Christians have really grasped the fact that social reform, political action, and psychic hygiene are that to which religious aspiration ought to be directed."2 Related to this move from truth to meaning is the fact that for the last twenty years seminarians, both religious and diocesan, have unchar-acteristically manifested a distaste for intellectual argument. Even some of the most intelligent tended to shun involvement in debates about the truth and falsity of moral positions or thorny dogmatic issues like the in-terpretation of the Resurrection, and were satisfied if they were con-vinced that a particular doctrine of the Church held some meaning for people. More and more religious showed up on the Myers-Briggs test as feelers and not thinkers. Brought up in an Enlightenment of suspicion, they suspected intestinally that the search for truth is impossible and that the different philosophies are simply a parade of ideologies with no cri-terion for discerning which is right and which is wrong. This is prob-ably the deep side of the vocation crisis among the youth of the second Enlightenment. If consciousness suspects its very self and its powers, how can it commit itself to anything for a long-term future? Ricoeur believes that we must face head-on what he calls the "her-meneutics of suspicion." We must take seriously its originators and think-ers and recognize their contribution. We cannot return to a primitive naivet6. But he also insists that we cannot remain in a state of denial, in a vacuum of truth, in mere negation; we must move to a second naivet6, we must move to a new place of affirmation. In order to do this we must not only respect the creators of suspicion but also question Religious Life and Modernity them. We must suspect the suspicioners and put them to the test. We must transcend the Enlightenment in both its phases. We will not achieve this by attempting to return to a consciousness conceived of as pure thought, to a thinking self which is sufficient unto itself apart from the world. For contemporary philosophy such a move is impossible. Consciousness can only be encountered as already in and of the world. The only way to discover what the human mind or human consciousness is like is through an examination of the works it has strewn in the world down the centuries, that is, through an examination of the institutions and documents of culture. Ricoeur bets that after such a re-flection the scandal of the cross will remain as much a scandal for mod-ern consciousness as it was for an earlier consciousness. He bets that the scandal of the cross will be discovered to be transcultural, a scandal not merely for humans in one stage of history, but for the human condition as such. For the modern age, theology's method has itself changed. We do not go immediately to the transcendent, to God, to the sacred and then try to relate God to the world. We find God through the world; we dis-cover the transcendent as the depth of the world. We seek an incarna-tional approach to eschatology and transcendence. We try to find God within the world as the Creative Moment therein, as the source without which justice and equality, as absolute moral imperatives, lack motiva-tion and a rational ground. The Enlightenment andthe Redefinition of Religious Life Whether we consider it in its first or second phase, the Enlighten-ment is marked by the same ideals, the dethroning of authority and tra-dition in favor of reason, free thought, and humanistic brotherhood. The ideals of both Enlightenments can be summarized most easily in the slo-gan of the French Revolution whose 200th anniversary we celebrated in 1989: liberty, fraternity, and equality. It was onto these very three ideals that religious life fastened almost in sequence after Vatican II in an effort to redefine itself, to forge a new identity. It had to deal with them as reinforced by the genius of Nietzsche, Freud, and Marx. Note that these ideals are mirror-imaged in the three vows and are in a sense the concern of the vows: (liberty) obe-dience, (fraternity) chastity, and (equality) poverty. The first of the Enlightenment ideals to make dramatic entrance into our culture and religious life was the ideal of personal or individual free-dom (its hero, Nietzsche). Never in a general culture had the notion "I want x" enjoyed such power as a reason for morally justifying an ac- ~144 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 tion. In an earlier climate of opinion, the fact that someone strongly de-sired something rendered suspect his or her opinion about it. In this ear-lier climate it was because an issue like abortion was so important that it could not be decided principally by the person who was subjectively involved. She could hardly have an objective viewpoint. But now it was precisely because an issue was so important that it must be left up to in-dividual choice. Major books have been written documenting and decry-ing this shift to individualistic freedom: Mclntyre's After Virtue, Allan Bloom's The Closing of the American Mind, and Robert Bellah's Habits of the Heart. Some of its critics distinguish between a liberal spirit which is admirable in its pursuit of discussion and exchange of ideas, and a lib-eral dogma which in its exaggerations is pernicious because it has not allowed us to build a community upon agreed societal values. Enlightenment freedom and its individualism invaded religious life in the 60s and early 70s. The major concern of seminarians and religious of that era was self-fulfillment and the idea that they could not be ful-filled unless they made their own choices about lifestyle and ministry. This was also the age when many seminarians refused to kneel down in chapel and to acknowledge any difference between themselves and their professors. Their slogan was that of the youth culture of the sixties: "Don't trust anyone over thirty!" Articles on religious obedience ap-pearing in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS at the time had less to do with the su-perior's authority as representing God or as the leader of a group engaged in a religious cause, than with how he or she should be a caring person or a listener attentive to the needs of community members. The second Enlightenment ideal used in the attempted redefinition of religious life was the ideal of fraternity interpreted as intimacy (its hero, Freud; its favorite book, Fromm's The Art of Loving). In the 70s fraternity came to the fore in the form of the need for intimacy and com-munity. Some felt that religion itself was a projection of affective needs. Everyone seemed sure that, without at least psychological sexual rela-tions, you could not really develop as a person. A good number left re-ligious life while they were still nubile in the conviction that the Church would soon wake up and change the rules. Others adopted what for a brief time was called the "third way," that is, remaining somewhat celi-bate while dating. All of this was later exacerbated by the gay movement and the inability of some to realize that, whatever one might think of ho-moerotic relations in general, all religious, whether homosexually or heterosexually oriented, had taken the same vow. Those who chose to remain and to keep the vows fought for a more Religious Life and Modernity / 345 fraternal and intimate form of community life and began using the word "sharing" as an intransitive verb. "Sharing" went on till the wee hours of the morning. "Thanks for sharing" and a big hug seemed to end every conversation, even a conversation in which a provincial had in no uncertain terms said, "No.t'' For all its positive aspects, this age of individualistic freedom and of fraternity/intimacy/community was "the era of the divided heart." It was a time, not entirely past, in which many of us, ~11 of us to some degree, were sidetracked, distracted, not completely present to the task, unhappy. For many religious, life became not so much a vocation as an avocation. They did good work and were not completely disinterested in the religious community, but their treasure, their compelling interest seemed to be elsewhere. They did not realize it at the time and cannot be blamed, but absorbed in themselves, jettisoning traditional practices without replacing them with new communal structures, they were sap-ping the energy of the group. It was in subconscious reaction to this drift that there appeared in re-ligious- life circles the talk about the need for a shared vision or a com-mon sense of mission. Much effort went into writing mission statements which everyone signed and accepted mutteringly in paraliturgical cere-monies. But there was an unexamined assumption in writing such mis-sion declarations, the assumption that everyone wanted a common vi-sion. Though there has always been a degree of pluralism and confusion in the Church, what seemed different now was that some religious seemed almost to welcome the confusion. They gave up the search for a shared vision not simply because it is hard to attain, but because in a deep sense they did not want one. It may be a hard saying, but I believe it is true that many of us, all of us to some degree, did not desire a true unity of mind and vision, at least not one which was set down in great detail, one which invaded and interfered with our life. The third ideal of the French Revolution and Enlightenment to enter religious life in the time of attempted redefinition was that of equality (its hero, Marx). It was the same ideal which gave rise to liberation the-ology and to the preferential option for the poor. It came strongly to the fore in the 80s. Beginning with the 33rd General Congregation of Jesu-its it thundered into religious life under the title of faith and justice. So-cial analysis and peace-and-justice committees soon became the vogue. Religious, male and female, left long-standing apostolates in education and hospitals and went to work among the poor and oppressed of both the third and first worlds. Soon the movement became involved with jus- 346 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 tice questions within the Church as well as the world, in the first as well as the third world. Now suddenly every question was interpreted princi-pally in terms of the power-equality schema. Everywhere there was talk of the need for assertiveness, the tactics of confrontation, the evil of pa-triarchy, the lucha de clases. Not just politics but a liberal politics was brought to the center of religion and religious life. At Boston College in 1984 the Jesuit historian John Padberg said, "It must be admitted that from a historical point of view many of the changes which have taken place in feminine religious communities do not derive from Vatican II, but from the secular feminist movement." I believe that these attempted redefinitions of religious life have all failed because religious have remained at a superficial level in thinking about freedom, fraternity, and equality. In their general thrust these new values are wonderful and exhilarating and are here to stay. But they must be retrieved in their Christian depth and meaning. Secularization and the Return of Religion We are in a polarization situation in the Church today, liberals against conservatives. This can be documented by reading any theologi-cal review or religious newspaper. Avery Dulles, in fact, discerns four quasi-ideologies in the Church, liberal, traditionalist, neoconservative, and radical.3 Signs of the resistance appear not only in a growing funda-mentalism in Church practice, but in the "postliberal" or "postmod-ern" stances in academic theology championed by men like Lindbeck, Huston Smith, and Stanley Hauerwas. The resistance is also apparent in the area of religious and priestly vocations. In the entire industrialized world it is the progressive orders which continue to experience a decline, while conservative congregations enjoy substantial increases. But what is not understood is that the very fact of the polarization has a religious meaning. It means that modernity cannot be understood as a single phenomenon of ongoing secularization. There is something else occurring. The evident resistance to a liberal secularism hints at the possibility of a great reversal, a move to a higher synthesis. Many have been willing to see a religious significance in seculariza-tion. They interpret it as the desire to be authentic, to be rid of idols, to avoid at all costs the telling of a lie. But is there not also a deep mean-ing to the liberal/conservative split and the rise of fundamentalism and neoconservatism? Is this not also a sign of the times? It seems simplistic to view the resistance to tendencies which have been the vogue since Vati-can II as a mere knee-jerk reaction, a neurotic flight to security in the face of a secularized world. The very fact of these countermovements Religious Life and Modernity / 347 has a religious sense. It reveals, among other things, that modern men and women still recognize the presence of mystery and transcendence and feel that without it liberty, fraternity, and equality remain superfi-cial and, in the end, stifling. In an article entitled "Can the West be Converted?" Leslie Newbigin, the famous Anglican missionary to India, asks: Can there be an effective missionary encounter with this culture--this so powerful, per-suasive, and confident culture which (at least until very recently) simply regarded itself as "the coming world civilization"? He bemoans as excessive the criticism of the nineteenth-century mis-sionary on the part of socially-minded Christians, and disagrees with drop-ping the term "foreign missions" in favor of "overseas ministries" or "cross-cultural ministry." Says Newbigin: "The contemporary embar~ rassment about the missionary movement of the previous century is not, as we like to think, evidence that we have become more humble. It is, I fear, much more clearly evidence of shift in belief. It is evidence that we are less ready to affirm the uniqueness, the centrality, the decisive-ness of Jesus Christ as universal Lord and Savior, the Way by following whom the world is to find its true goal, the Truth by which every other claim to truth is to be tested, the Life in whom alone life in its fullness is to be found."4 Instead of weighing the Christian religious experience in the scale of reason as our culture understands reason, let us suppose, says Newbigin, that the Gospel is true; that, in the story of the Bible and in the life and death and resurrection of Jesus, the Creator and Lord of the universe has actually manifested himself to declare and effect his pur-pose; and that, therefore, everything else, including all the actions and assumptions of our culture, has to be assessed and can only be validly assessed in the scales which this revelation provides. What would it mean if, instead of trying to understand the gospel from the point of view of our culture, we tried to understand our culture from the point of view of the gospel? Rabbi Abraham Heschel said something similar when addressing theo-logians at a conference on the future of theology: "It has always seemed puzzling to me how greatly attached to the Bible you seem to be and yet how much like pagans you handle it. The great challenge to those of us who wish to take the Bible seriously is to let it teach us its own essential categories; and then for us to think with them, instead of just about them."5 Something new is stirring, something new striving to be born. A sig- 3411 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 nificant group of theologia.ns is reaching for a postliberal stance which might feed the hunger for truth and a deeper meaning which exists in America. Professor Huston Smith puts it as follows: "While the West's 'brain,' which for present purposes we can equate with the modern uni-versity, rolls ever further down the reductionistic path, other centers of society--our emotions, for example, as they find expression through our artists and our wills. --protest. These other centers of ourselves feel they are being dragged, kicking and screaming, down an ever-darken-ing tunnel."6 The first world turns to suicide, drugs, and hooliganism because of a lack of meaning in the lives of its members. Culture is the meaning system of society. According to some sociologists, religion is the deep-est aspect of that meaning system. But the religion which remains in West-ern society is impoverished. The religion of our secularized cultures is highly intellectualized, pared down, devoid of mystery and passion. Mys-teries are embarrassments and explained away reductively. Modern churches look like banks. In many Catholic churches statues of saints are either banished or shrunken to stand sheepishly in shadowy corners. Lit-tle remains of the sense of an invisible reality beyond the material one, of a grand communion of saints, of Blake's "infinity in a grain of sand" and "eternity in an hour." And what has sprung up in the desert of modernity? The so-called "pipeline religion" of charismatics and Pentecostals, a revival of an emo-tional type of prayer with a need for a personal attachment to Jesus ex-pressed emotionally and publicly, the ministry of healing in sum, the desire for a backdrop to life, a deeper dimension, an invisible world; the need once again to feel that God is near and that we are able to commune with him; the need for a God who is transcendent as well as immanent. We desire the divine face of Jesus as well as the human face of God. The pendulum swings of the Christological debates of the early Church are again in evidence. The third redefinition of religious life in terms of equality and jus-tice is an improvement over the first two redefinitions in terms of liberty and fraternity, especially where these are interpreted as individualistic freedom and a sentimentalized intimacy/community. Individualism can-not form community. Nor can we religious be merely intimiste in our spiri-tuality. We cannot be satisfied with simply voicing our affections of love toward others or even for the Lord. Love must be active, social, and even political. Christians cannot concentrate solely on their own salvation whether earthly or celestial. "What would the Lord say," asked Char- Religious Life and Modernity / 349 les P6guy, "if we go to him without all the others?" On the other hand, this third effort to redefine ourselves and discover a lost identity was (is) in some ways more seductive, more liable to be-come an idol, for in itself it is strongly rooted in the Gospel and demands great sacrifice. The quest for social justice is "a constitutive part" of the Gospel, says an oft-quoted text of the 1971 Synod of Bishops. But it, too, has its shadow side. It was an improvement because it took the focus off of the individual subject, the I, but it was not sufficient because it replaced the individual subject with another earthly subject, the spe-cies subject, Marx's Gattungswesen, or with a part of society, the poor, the oppressed of the human species. To define religious life principally in terms of social justice is to make the Marxian move of replacing re-ligion with the need to foster a truly socialized man and woman. While fear of idolatry caused men of earlier ages to set God above the world and beyond all images, the danger of idolatry returns a hun-dredfold when we look for him within the bowels of the world. Some will call this double-talk and say they will have nothing to do with liberation, equality, compassion, and the betterment of people. But such a conclusion does not follow from what I am saying. Just the oppo-site is true. Unless we live in light of the truth that the world belongs to God and that its primary duty is to praise him in gratitude for what has been given, we cannot even begin to construct a world of justice. Unless we see that God is first and creator and that the human is second and created, we cannot find any basis for human equality or for treating everyone with justice and care. Evolutionists turned philosophers say that humans are equal only by the accident that a group of beings with about the same size brain flow-ered at a certain period of time. As a result these thinkers can find no ground for the moral imperative of justice. Such an imperative appears only when and if we view humans as having a relationship to an Abso-lute whose essence is Love. Humans have a dignity not because they hap-pen to have a complex brain which gives them a kind of free will, but because they are loved and because the very meaning of their being is to love as the Father loves. As Martin Buber has said, whoever makes freedom the primary characteristic of humans is blind to the real nature of human existence which is "being sent and a being commissioned."7 It is because God's love for us does not rise out of a personal need but is gratuitous, that the universe has meaning and that social justice is an imperative. In this discovery we will find true freedom. For the God of the absolute future is a God of plenitude who does not enslave nor ~150 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 brook enslavement. Contemporary thinkers are obsessed by the thought that dualisms must be overcome at all cost, that all distinctions must be leveled, the natural and the supernatural, laity and clergy, Church and world. In this same vein, because of the doctrine that all are called to the same degree of holiness in baptism, they tend to believe that the distinction between laity and religious cannot ultimately be maintained. But in counteract-ing dualisms we must be careful not to submerge certain important dis-tinctions. There may be other distinctions between religious life and lay life which are .not connected with the call to holiness shared in baptism. Religious, I believe, are called to a different kind of separation from the world. Religious must be not above or beyond the world, nor seek to escape its toils. BUt yes, their life must be distinct and separate by tak-ing up the very different lifestyle of a pilgrim as did the apostles, not remaining at home but accompanying Jesus on the way. Again, if a religious must be a prophet, as many commentators urge, then he or she must be different from others in the way that a prophet is different from those to whom he or she prophesies. The prophet is one who shows the way. Religious must teach by their life that all Christians must be in the world but not of the world, that their greatness will not spring from surrender to the values of the world. Without a distinction between religious and laity the significance and identity of a truly Chris-tian laity may also be in danger of being lost. Something new is being born: a higher synthesis. It will consist es-sentially in a rewinning for human consciousness the sense of the tran-scendent and a new understanding of what is meant by a separation from the world. The problem of the third world is poverty; the problem of the first world is paganism. The third world retains the sense of the transcen-dent, though the embrace may at times be cluttered with emotion and su-perstitions and not translate into social action. The first world has in many cases simply given up the embrace. And in doing so it finds no adequate ground for love of neighbor, enemy, or stranger. Earlier spirituality taught that only in recognizing God's sovereignty can we avoid pride. It is through the same recognition that we will be-come compassionate and work for justice. True kenosis lies in the reali-zation that all humans--poor or rich, woman or man, ourselves or oth-ers- are of secondary importance. What is of prime importance is be-yond. But the God beyond sends us back to the world whose inhabitants he loves unconditionally as individual persons and as societies. He places upon us the moral imperative of justice and the command of love. Religious Life and Modernity Through a relationship with the Lord established in prayer, the extent of our task as Christians will be revealed. In transcendence we will redis-cover immanence. Modernity and its religious need again to ponder the words of the psalmist: "In your light we shall see light." NOTES I In support of a minority dissenting position, see Andrew Greeley and Michael Hout, "The secularisation myth," The Tablet, June 10, 1989, pp. 665-667. 2 "Faith and Reason," The Tablet, March I 1, 1989, p. 276. 3 See "Catholicism and American Culture," America, January 27, 1990, pp. 54- 59. 4 International Bulletin of Missionary Research, April 1988, p. 51. 5 Quoted by Prof. Albert Outler, "Toward a Post-liberal Hermeneutics," Theology Today, October 1985, p. 290. 6 Toward the Post-Modern Mind (Crossroad, 1982), p. 25. 7 Martin Buber, The Eclipse of God (Harper and Row, 1962), p. 69. A Celibate Dialogues with God I asked God: "Must I be my last and only word? Will this who-I-am be heard no more when I am dead? Who will know what I have said? Who will weave my melody into their song or hum at least my harmonies along with theirs? Who will? Who will?" And God said: "Peace. Be still." Irene Zimmerman, S.S.S.F. 3601 South 41 Street Milwaukee, Wl 53221 Focus: The Mission William F. Hogan, C.S.C. Father William Hogan, C.S.C., wrote "Chapters and Structures" for our issue of January/February 1989. His address remains Fratelli Cristiani; Via della Maglian-ella 375; 00166 Roma, Italy. Mission is the most written about concept in religious institutes and it sets the tone of most revised constitutions. Furthering the mission of Jesus in today's world has provided the framework for renewal programs and processes in communities of the consecrated life. The concerns that pre-occupy us affect our lives in many ways, providing an overall orienta-tion for judgments, the determination of choices, the perception of life and reality, the measurement of problems. And yet, all too often con-cern for the mission is not carried over into the nitty-gritty of daily life; we can find in ourselves a gap between the intellectual approach to mis-sion and what motivates our actual responses in concrete situations. Con-tradictions can abound in our human persons! The morale of many religious today is deeply affected by dwindling numbers, aging, and the lack of new members to carry on the life and work. Some give in to discouragement and the tendency to pull in on self; survival looms as a major concern and the scope of vision becomes quite narrow. Surely the Lord does not want a yielding to inclinations along this line because they are contrary to the tenor of the Gospel, which would focus our attention with largeness of heart and vision on the mis-sion of Jesus and the call to live, be, and do in response to the mission today, no matter what. The Christian must be an apostolic person in all the phases and situations of life with their ups and downs. It is understandable that there be a human reaction of preoccupation with self-preservation and self-survival, given the innate drive for the self 352 Focus: The Mission / 353 to live on and the desire to continue a form of life in which one believes. At the same time we must confront within ourselves some very real is-sues, the most basic of which centers around whose mission it is we are called to serve. This is the struggle of God and the "me," the struggle with which we have to cope in one way or another all through life, the struggle of sinfulness. "Your thoughts are not my thoughts, nor my ways your ways" (Is 55:8). What does our God seem to be asking of religious today, especially in institutes that appear to be dying? It surely is not pious platitudes: "God's will"; "God will provide"; "History will repeat itself"; "It happened before." While it may be hard to read what is happening, we can surmise a few points about basic attitudes to which the Lord may be calling us. Most basic of these is to expand our vision beyond our own religious institutes to see how the Spirit is active in the birthing of so many new forms of consecration for mission. Despite secularism and other "isms"--perhaps because of them--our times are seeing all kinds of new Christian community foundations with a variety of time-tested and new elements. We are living in an era as rich as the nineteenth cen-tury, as far as new religious ventures are concerned, although the em-phasis on some aspects of consecration may differ. In many parts of the world the Spirit is pouring forth founding charisms on individuals to wit-ness to Christ in discipleship in new ways. In some instances there are blends of various long-standing spiritual traditions; others are different combinations of the monastic and actively apostolic; still others would appear to be revivals of forms that have passed out of existence over the centuries; some are entirely new. One can look at the community movements springing up and won-der why these people do not simply join already existing religious con-gregations that are in need of new members in order to continue. And we just cannot find adequate answers on a human level. It is not enough to say that today's individuals want less structure because some of the emerging groups are very highly structured. Nor can one merely explain that people want to be unencumbered, free of age-old traditions and in-stitutionalism, since many are deeply rooted in traditions and some have picked up practices that religious congregations have laid aside. Is it the attraction of the new? Who knows? What is important is to have a vi-sion that embraces what the Spirit of God is doing to further the mission of Jesus in our age. If all disciples of Christ are people of mission, the challenge is to keep one's attention on the accomplishment of the mis-sion and not just one's own particular part in it. The glory of God Review for Religious, May-June 1991 through the restoration of creation in Christ is what matters and not how we think we are glorifying God. We are face-to-face with the issue of whose mission this is, God's or ours, and whether we have fallen into the trap of overestimating the importance of our own role in the mission. A breadth of vision is needed, with the focal point being Christ and the continuation of Christ's message and work. We share in that work; we witness to Christ's person and message. The continuation of the mission is what counts, not so much who accomplishes it. Religious today may find themselves in a situation somewhat analo-gous to some incidents described in the Bible: Now two men, one named Eldad and the other Medad, were not in the gathering but had been left in the camp. They too had been on the list, but had not gone out to the tent; yet the spirit came to rest on them also, and they prophesied in the camp. So, when a young man quickly told Moses, "Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp," Joshua, son of Nun, who from his youth had been Moses' aide, said, "Moses, my lord, stop them." But Moses answered him, "Are you jea.lous for my sake? Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets! Would that the Lord might bestow his spirit on them all!" (Nb 11:26-29). John said to him, "Master, we saw a man who is not one of us cast-ing out devils in your name; and because he was not one of us we tried to stop him." But Jesus said, "You must not stop him: no one who works a miracle in my name is likely to speak evil of me. Anyone who is not against us is for us" (Mk 9:38-40). If God was giving them the same gift he gave us when we first be-lieved in the Lord Jesus Christ, who am I to impede the action of God? (Ac 11:17). Perhaps individuals experience pain when they see others in search of values in new groups and it appears that the ideals are the same that they themselves are trying to live. Yet the attention must be on Christ and ful-fillment of his plan now, what is needed for the mission now, and not on one's own pain. Granted that this is easier said than done, but we must keep trying to be conscious of the mission that is the very reason for our being. Our faith would tell us that the Lord is very much present in the cur-rent situation, though not necessarily in the way that we would like the Lord to be present, that is, according to our desires and plans. And that is another aspect of what God is asking of religious today: to find him present in the decline as much as in the previous rise in religious life. This entails hope, defined in the dictionary as desire joined with the ex- Focus: The Mission pectation of getting what is desired. The "what is desired," however, constitutes a problem area. Most religious say that they hope there will be a resurgence of vocations to their institutes and they frequently wit-ness to their words through intense prayer for vocations, both in personal prayer and in petitions during the Prayers of the Faithful at Eucharistic celebrations and the liturgy of the hours. Christian hope must be founded on the person of Jesus Christ, whose power gives us the basis for expectations to be fulfilled. Jesus' mission/ kingdom are inseparable from his person and to hope in him touches upon his mission and his ways of bringing it about rather than our own projections of what the mission demands according to our viewpoints-- in particular, the preservation of our particular religious institutes. We hope, but in what way'?. In total openness to God's ways? Genuine hope involves a finding of the Lord present in situations that may lead to a cer-tain type of dying; hope in the Lord may mean a letting go of some of our desires and false hopes, and even of any panicky types of prayer for vocations. Now is a time for deep inner calm founded on the Lord Jesus who is at work among his people, accomplishing the mission, though our vision be obscured through personal suffering over the decline of reli-gious life. Not resignation, but a lively hope in the Lord! How frequently the Word of God calls us to wait on the Lord in a spirit of peace, "singing the favors of the Lord" even when we feel weighed down with concerns. The Lord's time and way so often are not our times, ways, and vision; thus he challenges us to a patient engaging trust in him, as he did Habakkuk of old: Write down the vision clearly upon the tablets, so that one can read it readily. For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late (Hab 2:2-3). This waiting in patience is not passive, for it demands a struggle for faith in and openness to God's ways in the accomplishment .of the mission. And it charges us to keep on going in what we are living, giving, and doing and not to pull into self, overwhelmed by feelings of discourage-ment. The blindness of faith and surrender to the Lord's way are invoked by waiting on the Lord. St. Therese of Lisieux described herself as a little ball: "You [God] throw me to someplace in a corner; maybe ten years later you pick me up again." Catherine de Hueck Doherty mentions in her writings a starets who said that we should be like rag dolls that can be picked up 356 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 by the hand, foot, or head, thrown in the bushes, hugged, thrown in the toy box. These figures of speech point to the self-emptying at the heart of waiting on the Lord--the painful surrenders to go the Lord's way and not our own, holding on in faith as we try to let go of our ways and yield to the divine ways. It is a movement to selflessness with conviction that God knows what he is doing, even when it is beyond our comprehen-sion. Human solutions to problems and techniques for attracting possible vocations are important, but none are miraculous. There is no mystical, magical solution for the vocational crisis in religious institutes. No mat-ter what human avenues and approaches are pursued, we must look to the basic point of attitudes our God wants of us now: faith; largeness of vision of the mission and how it is being realized today and by whom it is being promoted; and awareness that the Lord is calling us to a kenosis beyond what we have experienced in the recent past. And all of this would appear to be part of the divine plan for greater growth in open-ness to God's ways. The alternative prayer for the fourth Sunday of Eas-ter expresses it powerfully: God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, though your people walk in the valley of darkness, no evil should they fear; for they follow in faith the call of the shepherd whom you have sent for their hope and strength. Attune our minds to the sound of his voice, lead our steps in the path he has shown, that we may know the strength of his outstretched arm and enjoy the light of your presence for ever. We ask this in the name of Jesus the Lord. Participative Leadership for Refounding: Reflections Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle is well known to many of our readers around the world for his arti-cles, books, and workshops. His address: Catholic Theological Union; ! Mary Street; Hunters Hill, Sydney, N.S.W.; Australia 2110. Refounding is the process whereby an apostolic congregation, under the inspiration and leadership of creatively pastoral people, relates the Gos-pel message to the critically challenging problems within contemporary cultures (for example, secularism and injustice) according to the spirit of the original founding vision. ~ These imaginative people cannot emerge and act, however, if their officially appointed congregational leadership team fails to realize its primary function: to foster an atmosphere condu-cive to pastoral creativity within the religious community. I believe that the decision-making processes of the leadership team that aim to facilitate refounding must be based on the principles of parti-cipative (or collaborative) leadership. However, considerable confusion can exist about precisely what is meant by participative government. In this article I seek to clarify what is meant by "participative lead-ership for refounding." I concentrate on the dynamics of participative leadership within the officially appointed congregational leadership teams at the provincial and general levels. By extension, what I say of the participative process within these teams will apply mutatis mutandis to all other congregational leadership groups. Leadership for Refounding: Clarifying the Model Two relevant models of administrative style can be distinguished-- the "mechanistic" and the "organic"; they differ according to the pur- 357 Review for Religious, May-June 1991 pose for which an organization exists.2 In the mechanistic style, the tasks of the organization are considered predictable or unchanging. The organi-zation is characterized by many rules and regulations; the leadership's role is to make sure that these long-established and neatly set-out rules of operation are being followed. Creativity is discouraged because it threatens a predictable way of acting. Thus, the mechanistic style of lead-ership is totally unsuited to a world of change. Within the Church, the methods of evangelization and pastoral care changed little over several centuries prior to Vatican II. The world had to adapt to the Church, not vice versa. The administrative style of the ecclesiastical and religious congregations had become mechanistic. Re-cently I reviewed the provincial-chapter decrees of an apostolic male cleri-cal congregation from 1894 to 1956. Never at any point is there refer-ence to the need for pastoral creativity; instead the emphasis is on con-trol through the maintenance of detailed discipline rules. For example, in the decrees of 1900, phrases like "the present Chapter reasserts the prohibition against." are commonplace. Little wonder that our pastoral administrators failed to take note of the emergence of the urban/factory working class in the nineteenth cen-tury. Pastoral care remained predictably and "pleasantly" rural in ori-entation. Not surprisingly, the vast majority of this often oppressed class became alienated from the Church and continue to remain so. The second style of administration is organic. There are few rules and regulations in the organization. The emphasis is on constant inno-vation, creativity, and evaluative feedback because the marketplace de-mands an ever-increasing variety of new products, devices, and designs. The leadership fosters in the organization a participative atmosphere in which people feel they can create and be supported by other members in the group. Decision making is primarily proactive rather than reactive or crisis solving. By this we mean that organic administrations are "an-ticipative people," that is, they see change coming and then begin to plan and discuss different ways to adapt to it. They begin to create and control change rather than succumb to it.3 Organic-oriented leadership is founded on six assumptions. First, the process of creativity and innovation is a generally very messy one, be-cause it is a human activity that "involves the personalities, emotions, and quirks of many creative people. It does not always work cleanly; it does not always work well; it certainly does not usually work effi-ciently.' ,4 Second, leadership teams need space and time in which to ponder Participative Leadership / 359 over the implications of the information coming .to them. If leaders do not have this sacred space and time, they will, without realizing it, re-gress to an authoritarian style of leadership. Today congregational lead-ership, especially at the provincial level, must carry unprecedented bur-dens. For example, as a consequence of the inevitable contemporary "re-ligious- life chaos," congregational leadership must be involved in press-ing maintenance issues, such as the closing of houses because of the de-cline in membership and the development of new ministries, the pastoral care of religious who are confused by the chaos within and outside re-ligious life, and the finding of finances to cover health and retirement costs. At the same time they must be giving priority to the future of the congregation, its mission, new and creative responses. If congregational leadership is not ruthlessly careful, it will be exhausted with maintenance demands. Creativity space will be choked out. Third, because the organization exists to respond to the needs of a rapidly changing world, the communication about these needs and the creative responses to them must be fast, two-way, and accurate. The lead-ership team is concerned to get the right information at the right time and to pass it on to the people who need it, to get the message understood and acted upon. Fourth, the temptation to spend an excessive amount of time on analy-sis of the information being received must be resisted. Organizations can become so caught up in more and more analysis and information gather-ing that they become paralyzed. On the other hand, paralysis can also develop if organizations are consistently rushing into decision making without sufficient research and information. Creative risk takers become deenergized not only with excessive, introverted meetings and analysis, but also by having to interact with groups that constantly fail to listen to reality.5 In whatever way group paralysis occurs, we have a recipe for organizational suicide. Fifth, even the most creative leadership teams can develop middle-life weariness. They can lose their drive and enthusiasm and adopt a mechanistic leadership style; they fall victim to the deadly temptation to spend their time solving the problems of yesterday rather than anticipat-ing the challenges of tomorrow. Bureaucracy, red tape, and complacency are the symptoms of this mortal disease.6 Sixth, organizations that have become bureaucratic, inward-looking, or unresponsive to changing needs can only be refounded if their leadership is prepared to adopt the organic style. The resistance to change and to creative persons, however, could be so great that the pro- 3130 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 cess of refounding is impossible. The leadership team is powerless. But the team should not lightly surrender to resistance---on the other hand, ,the real obstacles to refounding may well be within the leadership group itself. Seventh, every leadership team needs skills for interpreting what is happening within its own group and within the wider society it seeks to serve. If a team is unable to be honest and courageous enough to reflect on the strengths and weaknesses of its own interrelationships, it will re-main insensitive to what is taking place within the wider organizational culture.7 Organic Leadership Style and Religious Life Apostolic religious congregations exist to minister to the changing pastoral needs of people and cultures.8 An essential reason for their ex-istence is that they be bold in apostolic initiatives.9 This ministry de-mands an organic leadership style in congregational administrations. 10 The Ignatian discernment method of coming to decisions is a form of the organic leadership style. The organic style finds support in the approach of St. Paul to evangel-ization. While there must be respect for the unchanging values of the teaching of Jesus Christ, there must be an openness to the use of the di-verse girls of people in preaching the Good News: "Now Christ's body is yourselves, each of you with a part to play in the whole" (1 Co 12:27). Paul lists the girls in order of importance. After the apostles (and their successors) came prophets (v.28). The prophets, whose distinguishing qualities are spelled out by Paul in writing to the Galatians (5:22), are the imaginative and creative persons within the Church (and religious con-gregations). Their role is to challenge Gospel communities constantly to develop new ways to preach the Good News to the world of today. Paul assumes that leaders of Christian communities must allow authentic proph-ets and pastorally creative persons to emerge and function. There is nothing nonincarnational, stuffy, bureaucratic, or mecha-nistic about Paul's thinking. Achieving Organic Leadership: Practical Guidelines If religious leadership teams are to have an organic leadership style, they must: 1. Formulate a clear team vision of goals and strategies. If a team does not know what it is aiming for, it will be equally fuzzy about what it should be doing; personal and group energy will dissipate Participative Leadership / 361 on minutiae or nonessential issues. The forming of a vision of realistic goals and the strategies to achieve them is at first sight deceptively simple. The formulation of practical strategies, for example, demands precise thinking and forecasting as well as making commitments involving others; most superiors are not accus-tomed to viewing the process in this way. ~ 2. Be aware of differing forms of participative leadership. The participative approach means that all team members share in the decision-making process. They do this in various ways, for example: dis-cussion leads to consensus or a majority vote or after consultation of mem-bers or their free offer of advice, the team leader or a delegated member decides. The preference is the first option: full involvement in decision mak-ing through consensus. However, there must be flexibility. The group should learn what option is the most appropriate at a given time. For ex-ample, the urgency for decision and action may allow only the last op-tion, that is, a decision made by the one with the most authority. Deci-sion making through consensus normally takes considerable time. Canon law and congregational constitutions do prescribe that some matters be decided, for example, by the major superior with the consent or advice of other members of the leadership team. If lengthy or wide consultation or majority voting is made the unchanging rule, then decisions may never be made and the urgent apostolic needs are left unattended. The conse-quence is that an organic style of leadership is turned into an oppressive mechanistic one. Decision making through consensus needs to be carefully under-stood. By consensus is meant that all parties agree what the decision should be and feel that they have been thoroughly involved at all stages. However, if consensus decision making is pursued at all costs, that is, if it is made into a rigid ideology, then points of conflict and disagree-ment are forced underground. If these issues remain unattended to, then all kinds of unresolved negative feelings or hurts will haunt the group and threaten to split it apart. The same danger exists if the majority vot-ing option is pushed through too quickly, because then disagreements and differences of opinion also remain unresolved. Pseudoconsultation is to be ruthlessly avoided; this involves the il-lusion of participation without the substance. Decisions have already been made by leaders, but other team members are then "consulted to keep them happy." There is no intention of changing the original deci-sions. This leads to disillusionment, disaffection, and cynicism. 362 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 I find that major superiors can unwittingly raise false expectations within their leadership teams (and within their province or congregation) simply by failing to specify the particular form of participation they ex-pect at a particular time. Sometimes the word "collegiality" is used interchangeably with "participative government," but this can also cause needless confusion. Strictly speaking, collegiality connotes a particular relationship between the college of bishops and the pope. The term can be applied to religious life only with extreme care. Collegiality has come to be synonymous with "participatory democracy," which assumes that in all decisions every member of a team o.r province must be fully acquainted with every detail and that decision making must be always according to the major-ity vote. 12 Collegial government in religious life, that is, where all mem-bers have equal rights in decision making by law, exists only at general and provincial chapters. 3. Adhere to subsidiarity. Whatever individuals or committees of councilors are able to do for themselves ought not to be removed from their competence and taken over by other people, for example, major superiors. Canon law or. the constitution will set out precisely those decisions that must be made by the major superior with the consent or consultation of the council. In other matters he or she can lawfully delegate authority to congregational team members. I find, however, that subsidiarity fails to work whenever team mem-bers are unsure precisely who has the delegated authority or authoriza-tion. Team members and the province or congregation as a whole must know who has the right to make decisions and takes responsibility for them. Secondly, when the major superior attempts to take back the author-ity without justification or when other team members try to interfere, un-necessary frustration occurs. Team members feel used, irrelevant, and deenergized as persons and leaders within the community. One practical consequence of adhering to the principle of subsidiarity is that great care must be taken to see that the agendas for congregational team meetings be carefully screened. No matter should come to team meetings that can and should be dealt with at lower levels. If this screen-ing does not take place, the team is back to the limitations of participa-tory- democracy procedures. They become bogged down by irrelevant mi-nutiae, and the critically important issues for team consideration become crowded out. Participative Leadership 4. Delegate maintenance tasks. Remember that the primary role of congregational leadership teams is to challenge their religious communities to face the realities of the fu-ture. They cannot even begin this task if they are constantly burdened at meetings with maintenance and personnel issues. This is not to deny the pastoral importance of such issues, but merely to highlight the key function of leadership teams. As far as possible, the maintenance requirements of congregations must be delegated to others. This will demand of leaders a ruthless self-discipline to prevent them from becoming smothered in maintenance prob-lems. Without such self-discipline there can be no congregational fu-ture. ~ 3 5. Be accountable. Every team member must be accountable for his or her performance to the group and through the majo.r superior and team to the whole prov-ince or congregation. But a warning: If delegation is working effectively, then the amount of material being made available to other members of the council or team for the sake of accountability should be controlled; otherwise they will again be swamped within a paper jungle. Leadership teams must be alert to the fact that they can easily be-come trapped in their own busyness so that they have no idea where they are going or what is really important, and end up experiencing rather than inventing the future. Busyness is apt to lull leaders into thinking that their decisions are relevant when in fact the opposite is the reality. 6. Understand and use power. Though power is a commonly used word, it is nonetheless frequently misunderstood. However, it is critically important to grasp its meaning and its various types because the failure to do so can frustrate the work of a congregational team's involvement in the refounding process. Power is the ability to influence the values and behavior of the or-ganizations or cultures in which we find ourselves. Structural power de-rives from the roles that we officially hold in an organization, for exam-ple, congregational leader or team member. Functional power derives from the skill we use within a group, for example, the skill of animation or coriamunication; personal power derives from our personality.14 Again recall that the primary task of a congregational team commit-ted to the refounding process is that of finding, empowering, and sup-porting the right people. On their own team and in the province or con-gregation they serve, these persons must be enabled tO create, not made 364 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 to devise elaborate controls to make less creative or resilient persons do what they should be doing. This requires that the congregational team, first, use its functional and personal power to find the right people and empower them to act and, second, use its structural power to open up the congregational struc-tures to allow the creative persons to operate without unnecessary inter-ference from other sections of the leadership team or the congregation or province as a whole. In brief, a creative team allows for and fosters the "pastorally in-novative eccentric." This may even mean applying the axiom "The new belongs elsewhere," which I have described at length in a recent book. ~5 That is, through the application of structural power, the team establishes structures that permit the "innovative eccentrics" to act without having to be accountable to a large number of people for what they are doing. The leadership team assumes the initiative of explaining to others the na-ture and progress of the creative pastoral project, thus allowing the in-novative people to concentrate on their new apostolic ventures. 7. Foster team trust. Congregational leadership groups must learn to see themselves as teams, not as a set of individuals. On a team, members are aware of each other's strengths and weaknesses; they aim to act in a manner which uses their individual diversity to serve the group. The group needs to ask itself three questions if it is to assess the qual-ity of its teamwork: (1) Does the group have the necessary skills and struc-tures to work together cooperatively and effectively? (2) If the team has not the necessary skills, can it develop them or should it seek them from outsiders? (3) Does the group have the attitudes, values, and norms that foster the required skills and support the required structures? If members do not trust one another, they will communicate inadequately. They will hold back information, thus weakening the quality of the team's deci-sion making. Maybe such lack of trust comes from conflict or the fear of it. Yet conflict is unavoidable even on the best teams. Members should npt try to hide it, but should try to recognize its causes and develop methods of resolving it. Robert Bolton distinguishes between the emotional and the substantive dimensions of conflict. The former include anger, distrust, defensiveness, fear, and resentment. Substantive dimensions involve con-flicting needs, disagreements over policies and practices, and divergent views of roles and the uses of resources. These substantive issues can-not be resolved until the emotional aspects are faced up to; the team may Participative Leadership / 365 require an outside facilitator for this to take place. 16 Members need to realize that the primary concern of team building is not the individual needs of the group's members, but the welfare of the congregation and the Church it serves. Members can become so con° cerned to achieve collaboration and cohesion that these qualities become not a means but an end in themselves. The team style then changes from an organic to a mechanistic one, and a rigid conformity to rules of unity predominates. The creativity of individual team members is then stifled or crushed. This is what William G. Dyer means when he writes: "Crea-tivity is often at odds with the conditions that foster collaboration. It is possible to increase team work while inhibiting creativity, which seems to stem from the less fettered individual.''~7 8. Nurture group life humanly and spiritually. A task-oriented congregational team expends considerable energy. Unless individuals and the group have space and time to restore this en-ergy, problems develop: bickering, excessive tiredness, poor concentra-tion, and individual and group burnout. Organizational and leadership culture must, then, be cared for if ap-ostolic effectiveness is to be maintained and grow. The group can revi-talize its own energies in a variety of ways. The options chosen will de-pend on what the group enjoys doing. One team, for example, may en-joy a regular meal together well away from their place of meeting; an-other team may receive energy through open-ended discussion on par-ticular topics. A group that has fun together is more likely to be a group that can stay and work together.18 As a top priority the spiritual life of the group needs nurturing. When the members are unable to share in prayer their faith experiences, they will lack the inner freedom for honesty and openness. I have seen the energy of individuals and groups rise with extraordinary rapidity as a con-sequence of members sharing their reflections on scriptural passages. Shar-ing cannot be pushed; it grows under the power of the Holy Spirit as mem-bers become more comfortable with one another and with the presence o~ the Lord in their midst. 9. Be flexible with meeting styles. Meetings need variety. Formal meetings, namely, regular team gath-erings that have agendas in advance, are essential. But, since these gen-erally are not the occasions for inspiration and energy-creating interac-tion, from time to time there should be team meetings with no detailed and set agendas. At these informal meetings the group could benefit from 366 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 a clear and simple process of critical self-reflection. Questions like the following could be used: How do you think the team is working together? Are our objectives being realized? Do the objectives need sharpening? Do individual members want to share the major concerns of their depart-ments? These gatherings become a mixture of sharing worries and suc-cesses, of.dreaming about the future of the province or congregation, of brainstorming about strategies. lO. Implement reality-testing sessions. A congregational team, like any human group, can lose touch with reality--for many reasons. For example, the group may become so anx-ious about the difficulties it faces in its leadership task that it uncon-sciously denies and represses much reality and so ignores it in its deci-sion making. To forestall such an eventuality, the team desperately needs regular reality-testing sessions: Are the usual staying-in-touch methods still working? Have they outlived their usefulness? Are they blocking the flow of information in and out of the group? Are members of the team continuing to listen to and communicate with one another? Have barri-ers developed between members? This can be a thoroughly uncomfort-able exercise, but without it much well-intentioned apostolic energy can dissipate. 19 Conclusion We read that the early Christian communities were "united, heart and soul; no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, as ev-erything they owned was held in common" (Ac 4:32). This aptly de-scribes what congregational leadership teams should strive to be like, plac-ing their possessions--their talents and their skills--at the service of the team and the congregation, making that effort even if it be painful. Such unity is achievable only if the efforts of the team members are earthed in the power of Christ's resurrection (see Ac 4:33). It is only through resurrection love that members can learn to find "joy in the truth., to make allowances, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes" (1 Co 13:7). Then there will be an organic, flexible style of lead-ership within congregational teams, and it will be apostolically energiz-ing for all who experience it.2° NOTES ~ See G.A. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), pp. 88-135, and Earthing the Gospel: An Inculturation Participative Leadership / 367 Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (London: Geoffrey Chapman; Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1990), chap. 12. 2 See T. Burns and G.M. Stalker, The Management oflnnovation (Chicago: Quad-rangle Books), passim. 3 See C.R. Hickman and M.A. Silva, Creating Excellence: Managing Corporate Cul-ture (New York: New American Library, 1984), p. 191. 4 K. Albrecht, The Creative Corporation (Homewood, I11.: Dow Jones-Irwin, 1987), pp. 46f. 5 See G. Pinchot, lntrapreneuring (New York: Harper & Row, 1985), pp. 224f.; see also the helpful insights of I. Briggs Myers, Gifts Differing (Palo Alto, Calif.: Con-sulting Psychologists Press, 1980), pp. 69-75. 6 See P. Drucker, Innovation and Entrepreneurship: Practice and Principles (New York: Harper & Row, 1986), p. 149. 7 See E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership: A Dynamic View (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), pp. 137-147,270-296, and D. Graves, Corporate Cul-ture: Diagnosis and Change (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1986), pp. 120-144. 8 See J. O'Malley, "Priesthood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Some Historical and Historiographical Considerations," Theological Studies 49 (1988): 223-257. 9 See Congregations for Religious and Bishops, Directives for the Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious in the Church (Sydney: St. Paul Publications, 1978), para. 12. 10 See comments on the New Code of Canon Law in G.A. Arb'uckle, Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, 1986), p. 137. i~ See G.A. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos, pp. 30-33, 105f. 12 See L. Schaller, The Change Agent: The Strategy of Innovative Leadership (Nash-ville: Abingdon Press, 1972), pp. 14, 152-154. ~3 See K. Albrecht, Successful Management by Objectives: An Action Manual (Engle-wood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1978), pp. 176f. ~4 Definitions and clarifications on power are provided by Jane Blaxland. See als6 " G.A. Arbuckle, Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, 1987), pp. 134-139. 15 See G.A. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos, pp. 112-135. 16 See R. Bolton People Skills (Brookvale: Simon & Schuster, 1987), p. 217; see also J.F. Benson, Working More Creatively with Groups (London: Tavistock, ! 987), pp. 130-145, l19f. 17 W.G. Dyer, Strategies for Managing Change (Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1984), p. 176. 18 See J.F. Benson, Working More Creatively, pp. 184-186. 19 See the helpful insights of M.F. Kets de Vries and D. Miller, The Neurotic Or-ganization: Diagnosing and Changing Counterproductive Styles of Management (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1985), pp. 15-45, 133-205; and E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture, pp. 185-208, 311-327. 2°I am grateful for the help of Jane Blaxland and Michael A. Mullins, S.M., in the preparation of this article. Mary, Woman for Peacemakers Patricia McCarthy, C.N.D. Sister Patricia McCarthy, C.N.D., may be addressed at Congregation of Notre Dame; 41 Cole Street; East Providence, Rhode Island 02914. Before much time in the field has elapsed, a worker for peace usually dis-covers, by need, the meaning behind Gandhi's claim that mute prayer was his greatest weapon. Fidelity to truth and perseverance in justice are fruits that can only be produced if prayer is the seed. Such prayer begins with a choice--a choice to respond to the call from God, a choice to take the first commandment seriously and to kneel before God. The choice is to hear and acknowledge the call to worship, to invest time, effort, and attention to this call. The choice is to be there listening day after day, to be there loving hour after hour, and to be there receiving love moment by moment. It is when we make that move from listening and loving to the realization of being loved that prayer becomes relationship. Out of this relationship, we no longer see ourselves as only workers for peace, we become united with Jesus Christ the one peace-maker. From union with his heart, we understand the work of peace to-day and embrace the call to share in it. If we have felt the call to enter into this prayer-love relationship with Christ, our first step is to turn to Mary. Our reasons for this are many. We come to Mary as to an intimate friend, we come asking to know her, to love her, and to realize her love for us. We come to Mary because she is the virgin Mother of God. We come to Mary because she was the most faithful disciple of Christ during her time on earth. We come to Mary because Christ gave her to us from the cross. We come to her be-cause we believe she is our loyal advocate from heaven. We come to Mary because she passionately offered herself to God for the sake of his 368 Mary, Woman for Peacemakers people at the Annunciation. God blessed and accepted that offering two thousand years ago, impregnated her with the seed of God so she could give birth in flesh and blood to Jesus. Finally, we come to Mary because she was faithfully present when Jesus abandoned himself to his Father. Mary was the Mother of God in Bethlehem when the Word of God became flesh to be among us; and Mary was the Mother of God on Calvary when the Word of God surren-dered his flesh to redeem us. Mary was mother and companion to the Son of Peace while he walked this fragile earth. Let us ask her to accompany us as we journey toward peace. For the sake of clarity, let us consider three specific as-pects of our life with her: prayer, mission, and prophecy. Prayer Why Mary with regard to prayer? Devotion to Mary does not come out of some private practice covered with sentimentality. Devotion to Mary comes from the heart of the mysteries of redemption and salvation. From the time angels chose not to worship God and refused to ac-knowledge God as God, evil has existed. It entered into humanity through our ancestors who also chose a created good over the Creator. Along with the existence of sin, however, was the promise of redemp-tion. God never left us without hope even when we did not know enough to care. For years, God formed covenants with us and reformed them af-ter we broke them. God spoke to us to admonish us, to encourage us, to instruct us; God spoke through generations of holy men and women. And, finally, when the fullness of time had arrived God chose to speak through Jesus Christ. With the greate.st risk, God let this divine intervention wait upon the word of a virgin daughter of Israel. Mary. had been chosen and prepared, kept free of any remnant of our ancestral tendency to sin. She had been formed in the covenants of Yahweh, desirous of the coming of the Mes-siah. She had learned to kneel before Yahweh, to worship, to find her joy and hope in her God. Mary understood the angels who were beings of praise, and she knew there were also angels who had chosen differ-ently. She knew the history of her people, the faithful and the unfaith-ful. Her whole being grew in anticipation for Yahweh to come again. Mary's receptivity to the Word of God was the essence of her virginity. She became the virgin Mother of.God because she allowed the power of God to overshadow her. This is also our model for virginity: To understand the yes Mary said at the Annunciation, we have to see her clearly as virgin. Before we can 370 / Review for Religious, May-June 1991 say yes, we have to see ourselves just as clearly as virgins. Virginity is a reality today that is poorly understood at best. Virginity, in its narrow-est sense, can be applied to a person, male or female, who has not had sexual intercourse. The virginity of Mary calls us to far more than that. In her virginity, Mary gives us the model for our own. Virginity is receptivity and openness to God's working with us and through us. It is total surrender to the loved one, the abandonment of all defenses and re-serves in the presence of the beloved. It is the willingness to take on a destiny utterly contrary to the culture of the day. It is the commitment to accept the seed of God in order to give the life of Christ to the world. Once we accept the seed we are committed to nourish it. The child will grow and be born of us and we will be responsible for him from that mo-ment on. This is the grace of virginity we received with our baptism, the grace to open ourselves to Christ, the grace that we can choose to coop-erate with whether we are male or female, married or single, religious or lay. This is the grace of virginity that calls us to a passionate chas-tity. This is the grace of virginity that Mary embraced. Mary has also shown us the call to motherhood, the call to bring Christ into the world. To the beauty of virginity God offered mother-hood, an inconceivable reality that Mary freely assented to. With that sin-gle yes, the Savior and Redeemer of the world was conceived. As no one else ever could, Mary in the ecstasy of her surrendered virginity em-bodied the Word of God. "The one whom the universe cannot contain is contained within your womb." She gave flesh to the good news, she brought forth the Prince of Peace. We owe Mary love, because it is through her tha

Issue 40.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1981. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscriplion orders or change of address, write: REVIFW I:OU RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Jeremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1981 Volume 40 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW RELtGIOUS; 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 University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVII-:w for RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in- Action David J. Hassel, S.J. Father Hassel's earlier article, "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," appeared in the November, 1980 issue. The present article is also a chapter from his projected book on prayer. Father's address is: Jesuit Community; Loyola University; 6525 N. Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. To contemplate is to see a thing or an event or a person as a whole. It is to grasp the totality of a situation and then to let wonder rise, deep fears and hopes surface, the fire of ambition be kindled, and the still-point of one's being touched. Thus contemplation not only views wholeness but also begins to instill it in the contemplator, an experience much needed in our fragmenting times. Persons lacking commitment to focus their energies, families lacking the love to heal their wounds, and nations lacking noble purpose to render them united--all need contemplation as much as the thirsty and starving need drink and food.' Now the power of contemplation appears in theaction which it structures and directs. Thus contemplation-in-action not only carries appreciation for the whole of a situation and thus renders the contemplator more wholesome but also enters into the very situation contemplated to make it more wholesome. For this reason, the more active a person is and the more deeply he or she interacts with others, the more important becomes contemplation for this person's every action. Indeed, the more explicitly tThis thirst and hunger for the meaning and wholeness of life is eloquently and poignantly record-ed in Studs Terkel's interviews with people from all walks of life. His contemplative book, Work-ing (Avon, New York, 1975, pp. xiii-xv) discovers "the happy few who find a savor in their daily job," and the many whose discontent is hardly concealed: 321 322 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 aware we become of contemplation-in-action within our experience, the better we can promote it in ourselves and in others for the healing of our wounded world. But, as always, difficulties arise which keep us from recognizing contem-plation- in-action and from living it more deeply within our experience. First of all, one can observe with envy the high intensity of secular contemplation in the action of artist or business person and can then expect this same intensity to occur within one's own religious contemplation-in-action. False expecta-tions always result in discouragement. Secondly, because monastic people do much of the writing about contemplation, one can mistake monastic contemplation for the apostolic type more characteristic of lay people, diocesan clergy, and active religious orders. Again, confusion here can dissipate religious energies. A third problem connected with recognizing contemplation-in-action is that the latter is an awareness permeating all one's activities. Therefore, it cannot be exposed by merely lifting off one or other layer of experience, nor be isolated by tracing its roots in one particular activity. Consequently--and this is the fourth difficulty--contemplation-in-action will express itself in a great variety of modes as it appears at diverse levels of experience and in different activities, even though it may be a single pervasive attitude. As a result, a person may be lamenting his or her failure at contemplation-in-action while unknowingly practicing it with some success. Perhaps the following exploration2 of these four problems may yield some inkling of what contemplation-in-action is and some recognition of how the contemplative-in-action feels. This, in turn, could be the source of new satisfaction in one's life, perhaps even the beginning of a certain settled happiness. Religious Contemplation-in-Action Out of the Secular The first problem facing us is the confusion of secular with religious contemplation-in-action--an understandable mistake since the first naturally leads into the second. Like all forms of contemplation-in-action, the secular variety discovers and promotes remarkable wholeness in the contemplator and in the object contemplated. For example, the portrait-artist, while center-ing her consciousness intensely upon the child to be painted, tends to fall in love with the latter as feeling and insight blend gradually into the beautiful whole of the portrait and of the person portrayed. The craftsman, too, is fascinated as the pitcher, shaping under his hands at the potter's wheel, is lifted out of the clay in a blend of graceful shape with smooth pouring. The 2I am greatly indebted to Vincent Towers, S.J., James Maguire, S.J. and Donald Abel, S.J. for their detailed comments on the rough drafts of this article, to Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes for advice and technical assistance, to Dr. Julia Lane for expert encouragement, to the Warrenville (!11.) Cenacle community for their helpful.suggestions. Contemplation-in-Action / ~2~ novelist also shares in this disciplined joy of secular contemplation-in-action. Saul Bellow could not have given us Herzog, nor J. D. Salinger presented us with Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye, unless each had gone through a period of 'possessed aloofness' while in his imagination he watched and chronicled the full-bodied development of Herzog or Holden out of a vast variety of detailed activities. In the artist or craftsman or novelist, then, one witnesses the power of secular contemplation-in-action for producing that beautiful whole which delights the artist's own heart and the hearts of all beholders. But such contemplation-in-action is not limited to the sphere of the arts. Watch parents playing with their firstborn child and note their total concen-tration on eliciting new responses from it. As the child slowly unfolds before their eyes during its first twenty-four months, they become ever more dedicated to educating it to beautiful soundness of body, mind, and emotions. If this is not contemplation-in-action, what is? In a similar way, the neurosurgeon, carefully and even exultantly applying his previous week's study of X rays, medical research, and techniques to a brain operation, also experiences this contemplation-in-action as he restores wholesome life to his patient. So, too, the lawyer contemplates-in-action when she manages to see her way through the myriad details of a personal injury suit towards those underlying legal principles which will structure for her a forceful, tight case on behalf of her client, Nor is the business person without contemplation-in-action when intense ambition is painting a new vision and directing precise lines of energy to effect this vision. The resultant business organization is a daring orchestration of people and processes brought to total life for the wholesome delight of the business person's mind and heart and for the good of the community. Evidently, then, secular contemplation-in-action operates within any work, artistic or scientific, speculative or practical, to produce wholesomeness in both the contemplator and the action-situation. Explicitly, each of us has, in some way, experienced these types of secular contemplation-in-action and implicitly we compare their qualities with those of our own religious contemplation-in-action--to the depreciation of the lat-ter. Each of us asks in guilt: "Where in my religious contemplation-in-action is the intense centering, the fascinated.vision, the possessed aloofness, the total concentration and dedication, the exultant application to life, the deep satisfaction in wholeness, and the intense ambition of secular contemplatives-in- action?" Why should not the religious contemplative-in-action be \ discouraged--especially if he equates secular and religious contemplation-in-action and does not know that they are meant to nourish each other reciprocally and precisely out of their difference. To understand their respec-tive differences, let us consider how they cooperate. Religious contemplation-in-action completes the secular. For the wholes of self and of object discovered by secular contemplation-in-action take on fuller meaning and larger value witfiinthe more comprehensive wholes of the 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 everyday world and of God as these are found by religious contemplation-in-action. A dynamic reciprocity operates here between the two types of contemplation-in-action. As the secular contemplative-in-action (artist, business person, parent, neurosurgeon, or lawyer) enters more deeply into the object to find its wholeness, he becomes more aware of his personal wholeness since the intense concentration on the object demands full awareness of his powers. But such total awareness of object and of self eventually leads into fuller awareness of the everyday world since the secular contemplative must fit himself and the object contemplated into the larger world of, e.g., serving a client, supporting a family, relaxing socially with friends; wondering about the worth of the object produced by the secular contemplation-in-action. Eventually every secular contemplative-in-action has to ask those terrible questions: "How do I and my work fit into the ongoing world? Why should I continue to ply my art, trade, profession, parenthood? Where am I, my family, and my work heading finally?" Such questioning usually leads to the more religious questions: "Is there anything more than this total world? Is there someone or something permeating this world and leading it to a higher destiny, a fuller life? Can I contact this mysterious one or am I already doing so?" When such questions finally lead into the experience of a meaningful world and of a transcendent God, then religious contemplation-in-action has evolved out of the secular and now redounds to the enrichment of the latter. To see how this is possible, note what happens when a family friend at-tempts to heal a family quarrel. He listens intently as the various family members describe the events leading up to the quarrel. The friend tries to piece together (to do a secular contemplation of) this setting and the quarrel. Once he feels that he knows the whole scene, he endeavors to help each family member see this whole so that each can experience some healing-into-wholeness as each admits his or her own faults, the good points of other fami-ly members, the need to forgive each other, and the necessity of planning together for a better family future. This secular contemplation starts to become contemplation-in-action when each family member begins to act out of this vision. Such secular contemplation-in-action begins to move into its religious counterpart when each family member finds a reason to act beyond himself or herself for unified family action, e.g., the preservation of the fami-ly tradition or the hope for future family members. Later, this religious contemplation-in-action attains fullness when individually the family members think of themselves and act as Christians carrying Christ's presence within the family, and when socially this same family as a group does healing actions which image the future Great Community of the Great Tomorrow beyond the grave. But factually, this neat cooperation between secular and religious contemplation-in-action often breaks down. There is a tendency in each human to abort secular contemplation-in-action before it can rise into the religious. St. Augustine describes vividly how this happens when a person at- Contemplation-in-Action / 325 tempts .to control the world, his fellow human beings and himself apart from or in conflict with God's law and providence. In this case the secular con-templative so concentrates on another person or a business project or a grand scheme as to lose sight of the more comprehensive wholes of community-justice and of God's people. Here secular contemplation becomes divorced from religious. The result is that the secular contemplative becomes hypnotiz-ed by the object of contemplation (nothing else is of equal value), then abject-ly slavish to the latter (the object becomes the only hope), then frantically con-servative of this object (e.g., a beloved, a job, an ambition or fond hope, a favorite pastime like gambling or fishing, a power over others). Because all the person's efforts are so fiercely focused on saving his project, he tends to dissipate mind, heart, and imagination. Thus, in an ironic way, the con-templating person literally fragments himself in efforts to mold his private world into a lasting wholesomeness which fits his own self-image and peculiar needs, but which fails to fit the true wholeness of the world and the Transcen-dent One. As a result, even a person's secular contemplation-in-action tends to disintegrate when its religious completion is aborted. To put this positively, religious contemplation-in-action is a contempla-tion whose resultant activities aim to render man more wholesome within the wholing of the world as the latter develops within the dynamic whole of the Transcendent God. The vision of Teilhard de Chardin which sees the universe converging towards the transcendent Omega Point is one illustration of religious contemplation-in-action. The exuberance of such religious contemplation-in-action once achieved can then redound upon its secular counterpart to render the latter passionate for truth and eager for beautiful action within its peculiar sphere of influence. F~'om all this it should be clear that secular and religious contemplation-in- action are distinct and mutually modifying phases in the contemplative person's wholesome life.3 To confuse one with the other is, then, to neglect one for the other and even to risk diminishing both since they are so naturally interdependent. But even within.religious contemplation-in-action, there is a further clarification to be made. Its monastic variety is different from the apostolic, even though, again, both types are needed to stimulate and to enrich the life of God's people. Here, too, confusion of one with the other debilitates life. Within Religious Contemplation-in-Action, the Monastic and the Apostolic Differ Discouragement is just as apt to arise from confusing the apostolic and the 3Karl Rahner shows the intimate connection between secular and religious contemplation when he demonstrates that supernaturally elevated transcendentality (i.e., God's self-communication in grace) is mediated by any and every categorical reality, (i.e., by the world). For the Christian, there is no separate sacral realm where alone God is to be found (Foundations of Christian Faith, translated by William V. Dych, Seabury Press, New. York, 1978, pp. 151-152). 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 monastic within religious c0ntemplation-in-action as it is from equating secular and religious contemplation-in-action. For, to seek continually the qualities of one in the other is to be permanently misled and disappointed. Although all forms of secular contemplation seek for wholesomeness in con-templator and in object contemplated, nevertheless as many types of secular contemplation occur as there are types of contemplators, e.g., artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, philosopher, business person, parent, novelist and so on. It should be no great surprise, then, that the monastic religious contemplation-in- action of the Poor Clare or the Carthusian will be different from its apostolic counterpart in the life of lay person or diocesan priest or apostolic religious. In monastic contemplation the monk or nun searches deeply, within the roots of his or her innermost being, for personal wholeness and for the mysterious wholesomeness of God's life within this being. Now such a demand-ing search becomes possible only if the person withdraws from the more active concerns of life in the everyday world of the apostle. In his Contemplative Prayer, Thomas Merton makes it clear that the monk must devote himself in a special way to renunciation, repentance, and prayer if he is to sound the depths of his being for God.' In monastic religious contemplation-in-action, the quiet sinking into self to find God requires a strict control of attention as one undergoes the rigors of hard manual labor, very close community living, sometimes deafening silence, and occasionally piercing loneliness. Thus the relief from cultural pressures which enables monastic religious contemplation-in-action to occur is hardly an escape from suffering the harsh demands of love and of the daily labor for survival. But it is a religious contemplation-in-action diverse from that of the apostle in the world of art, business, medicine, education, and family. Unfortunately, much less is writteri about apostolic religious contemplation-in-action than about the monastic varietywespecially from the view of the layperson.~ Because the apostolic contemplative is ordinarily working in a professional position or a ,trade or a skill-job (secretary, housewife, telephone linesman, and so on) and is frequently involved in team-work, he or she must give much attention to the daily concerns of the world--the very concerns from which the monastic contemplative explicitly withdraws. Ttfis apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is more depend-ent on secular contemplation-in-action for its dynamism because apostolic contemplatives are intently pursuing professional jobs, trades, and skills through eight to ten hours per day. As a result, the apostolic contemplative is more concerned with outer wholeness of self and world, whereas the monastic 'Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (Doubleday-Image, Garden City, N.Y., 1971 pp. 19-20). ~Thomas Vernor Moore's Life of Man with God, (Harcourt Brace~ New York, 1956), though quaint, contains case histories of ordinary people enjoying strong contemplation in action. Contemplation-in-Action / 397 contemplative concentrates more on the inner wholeness. Evidently both types of concern are needed by the civic and ecclesial communities since they complement each other. The outer beauty of technological, scientific, and cultural wholeness must be appreciated and promoted if the inner beauty of man's ultimate meaning and destiny is to exist and to be known in depth. On the other hand, the inner beauty of such wholeness makes possible all the outer beauty since the loss of ultimate meaning and destiny in human activities renders technology, science and culture vacuous: if not vicious. Nor is the withdrawal of the mohastic contemplative to be considered unique to this type of contemplation. The apostolic contemplative must prac-tice a somewhat similar asceticism if he or she is to be a first-rank artist, lawyer, neurosurgeon, teacher, sports star, philosopher, business person, or parent. In order to focus intensely upon the contemplated object, such contemplators must withdraw steadily from distractions, occasionally from family life, often from comforts, not rarely from the spotlight of flattering attention. Though the person dedicated to apostolic religious contemplation-in-action may be immersed in the concerns of the world, still he or she must learn to live hidden within the teamwork of the institution and to withdraw from disruptive self-seeking of fame, fortune, and fun. Such withdrawal is essential if the contemplator is to discover better the wholeness of object, self, world, and God. For the aim of every contemplative is to become more whole in order better to see, in all their wholesomeness, other people, the tasks at hand, professional teamwork, family health, national purpose, ecclesial community and God himself. For this reason, the withdrawal should make one more attentive and appreciative of other people, of one's business, of art and music, of wholesome sanctity (a redundant phrase), of professional skill, of science and technology, and of oneself. Such wholesomeness, when appreciated, gives deep intellectual joy and is the fullest reward for disciplined suffering. Consequently, the various types of contemplation-in-action must be carefully distinguished so that each can be pursued with finesse. But since contemplation-in-action has so many ways of expressing itself according to each one's peculiar gifts, situations, aims, and tradition, it is no easy task to discover one's own way of contemplating-in-action. Since each type of con-templation aims at wholeness of object contemplated and of person con-templating, a major error here could fragment the contemplator's personality and induce shoddy activity within his or her specialized secular contemplation-in-action. With this caution in mind, one delves hesitantly within his experience for the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action, especially since this experience runs so deeply and so uniquely. Towards the Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Because apostolic contemplation-in-action is present deep within many actions of the secular contemplative, it can be approached only gradually 328 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 through four steps. The first step consists in answering a series of questions constructed to bring into better focus the secret unity of one's everyday ex-perience. Later, in a second step, reflection on the various levels of this every-day experience helps us to recognize at what level apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. The third step is to work out an explicit definition of such contemplation according to these levels. Here, in a fourth step, one can finally note the feel of contemplation-in-action as it happens within various levels and modes of experience. But let us now take the first of these four steps by leisurely answering for ourselves the following questions: I. Why do I usually get up on time in the morning and not let people wait? 2. Why do I bother to cook breakfast for others and not just for myself? 3. Why do I share my car with others and, on occasional rainy mornings, leave early to get them to work on time? 4. Why, at the job, do I help out on someone else's project when mine is not finished yet? 5. Why should I avoid the second beer at lunch because it makes me loggy at work? Who really cares about my efficiency? 6. Why scrimp and save for others--esp~ecially if they are likely to squander the savings? 7. Why take work and worries home from the~ job? Why bother studying at night to complete degree work or to be more competent in my next day's work? 8. Why keep up correspondence with friends or answer the third telephone call when I'm so tired at night? 9. Why be the one who usually corrects the children and who gets their resentment? 10. Why sometimes spend money meant for entertainment on the needs of others? 11. Why squeeze into the already packed day the Eucharist and another fifteen or more minutes of prayer? In other words, all these why's add up to a single last question: Why do we stretch ourselves out for others hour after hour, day after day, month after month, year after year? Could the answer be that, amid all our sneaky ways, our clever vanities, our downright sins, and our cute manipulation of others to our own desires, we nevertheless do have a strong practical concern for peo-ple, for their welfare and happiness? Could it even be that, deep within, we each feel God quietly encouraging us to stretch our lives out to others? Could it be that, deep within, we want to delight the heart of God? If so, then this is what is called "the stretch," the almost constant doing.of the more difficult out of respect for others and for God. It is, in other words, the willingness to bleed slowly for loved ones and even, at times, for mere acquaintances. This "stretch," then, turns out to be a dynamic unity running through all the day's events to give them meaning and direction. Could it be that this is our seeking Contemplation-in-Action / 329 for God, our God-hunger? Is this our restlessness with anything less than God--a restlessness which renders us mystified at the self-serving actions of the trifler, the super-ambitious, and the bun vivant? Indeed, is this "stretch" or God-hunger the apostolic contemplation-in-action for which we are searching? It would seem not. For such contemplation lies underneath "the stretch" to make it happen. We must yet distinguish various levels of experience and then move underneath each to find the deepest level from where apostolic contemplation-in-action originates. And we find that there are four levels of experience to distinguish. The first or sur-face level is where minor irritations, like the sound of loud rock-and-roll music or the itch of eczema or the sudden hiccup occurs and where minor joys like a satisfying meal or a long sleep or a relaxed laugh, happen. Underneath this surface level, lies the second or physical level where the pains of ulcers or neuralgia lurk and the joys of exuberant good health or of strong sexual pleasure energize one. Underneath these two levels is the third or psychological level where one trembles with fear of failure in one's work or shrinks at seeing the beloved suffer, and where one also is Warmed with the security of being .loved deeply and faithfully by an admired person, or experiences the deep satisfaction of witnessing one's children growing up well. Underneath these three explicitly conscious levels which we all can recognize lies a more hidden fourth level known only implicitly, i.e., by con-trast with the top three levels. Thus a person can feel great joy and serenity at this fourth level, while at the upper three levels he feels terrible suffering and apparent fragmentation. Or the reverse may be the case. "Everything is going my way in health, job-~atisfaction, family life; I've got everything--except that I feel uneasy and deeply restless underneath all of this." In both in-stances, the person feels almost schizophrenic--so clear is the distinction be-tween the top three levels and the deepest fourth level of experience, so direct-ly reverse is the flow of events between the top-three and the fourth levels. Puzzling as this experience is, it is also a revelation of the fourth level where the root of contemplation-in-action lies and it will eventually lead us to the "feel" of apostolic contemplation-in action.6 Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is a Heart-Awareness of God and His People To state matters bluntly, apostolic contemplation-in-action is not "the stretch," the disciplined reaching out to others and to God from the third level of experience. It is not the constant calling to mind of God's presence, nor 61 have given a fuller description of these four levels of experience in "The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery," (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VOI. 39, 1980/6. pp. 808-810, 817-819). Confer also "Phenomenology, Psychiatry, and Ignatian Discernment" (The Way, Supplement #6, May, 1968, pp. 27-34) by Felix Letemendia and George Croft for a similar description of four levels of experience. 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 constant explicit aspirations, not the "Jesus prayer," nor one's favorite scrip-tural mantra on the second level of experience. It is not constant conversation with God on the second and first levels.7 Apostolic contemplation-in-action may cause these behaviors, but it is not any one or all of them. Rather, it is more like a heart-awareness of God, an affectionate and deep alertness to God in all events, a strong and warm conviction of God's loving presence at the fourth level underlying and yet permeating all life's experiences and hap-penings. 8 This heart-awareness seems to be always operative, like the buoyancy of a cork under water, always unobtrusive, like quiet background music in office or dining room, always implicit, like a mother's awareness of noisy children in the backyard while she is concentrating on a new cake recipe; always pulsing, like the tennis player's awareness of the beloved watching his match from the grandstands; always underlying, like the companionship between two friends whose attention is riveted on an engrossing motion picture; always growing osmotically, like the friendship between two people sitting in the front seat of a car and silently viewing the. countryside during a long trip. This heart-awareness appears not in the least to interfere with conversation or with algebra-solving or with. business-planning or with party-laughing or with landscape-painting or with surgical operating. Indeed, it can be said that this heart-awareness is actually a person's awareness of God's awareness of him while he works through the events of the day--much as when the lover tennis-star is implicitly aware of his beloved's awareness of him as she sits in the grandstand watching his play.9 This heart-awareness is like the alertness of the saints to God's providence in small happenings. God, like the air, is embracing the saints, enabling them to breathe, acting as the medium for all the surrounding events. In such an at-mosphere, nothing is insignificant. There is a second way in which this heart-awareness of God, called apostolic contemplation-in-action, can be described. It seems to be also a per- 'In reading Henri J. M. Nouwen's books and articles on spirituality, I have rarely felt anything but strong agreement--except for one article: "Unceasing Prayer" (America, Vol. 139/3, July 29--August 5, 1978, pp. 46-51), where Nouwen declares: "We convert our unceasing thinking in-to unceasing prayer when we move from a self-centered monologue to a God-centered di;~logue (p. 48)." Though he characterizes this prayer as contemplation, as attentive looking at God, and as presence to God, still the heavy emphasis on thinking and imagining in the article could lead the reader to a false mentalistic perception of praying always. 8In Love Alone (Herder and Herder, New York, 1969, p. 89), Hans Urs Von Balthasar compares the unceasing prayer of heart-awareness to the "the way a man is always and everywhere influenc-ed by the image of the woman he loves." 9 John S. Dunne (The Reasons of the Heart, Macmillan, New York, 1978, pp. 46-54) gives an acute description of this heart-awareness of God wherein one feels known and loved deeply by God. He puts it in Meister Eckhart's terms: this is a laughing between God and man which images the Trinitarian life of mutual joy between and in the three persons. Contemplation-in-Action / 331 son's awareness of God present within him and working out through him into the lives of others. It would explain somewhat Paul the Apostle's remark: "I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me." In this implicit heart-awareness there is even a sense of acting beyond one's capacities, or of being borne along to meet events for which one feels strangely prepared beforehand. This does not imply that such experience is without suffering. On the contrary, the heart-awareness has the tendency to make one more sensitive to the suffering of others and of one's self and even more ready to assume sorrow. For, remarkably, this heart-awareness opens one up not only to God but also simultaneously to God's people and his world. It would seem to contain a readiness for friendship, and for the obligations consequent upon friendship. It is not a state achieved by spiritual gymnastics, by much reading on the meaning of life, by the use of diaries, by experimental prayer-sessions, by con-stant aspirations, and God-conversation, or by psychological dynamics. Rather, it seems to arise within the disciplined service of others out of love. In other words, "the stretch" seems to set up the conditions in which this heart-awareness, this apostolic contemplation-in-action, occurs. The latter would seem, then, to he a natural development in a healthy life of service to God and his people. It appears to be an availability to others which is adaptive~to their needs, hopes, joys and sorrows and which consequently takes on emotional coloring and religious content by way of this adaptation. For this reason, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is not an esoteric gift but one which is given to many good people by a God eager to promote such heart-awareness of himself and of his people. After all, such awareness would seem to include a penchant for fulfilling the two Great Com-mandments under a vast array of different circumstances and, therefore, under many diverse modes of action. It is time, then, that we considered some of these modes. In this way we can experientially both test the understanding and get the feel of apostolic contemplation-in-action. Various Modes in Which Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action Is Felt Apostolic religious contemplation-in-action as heart-awareness of God is, then, a deep good will towards God, a warm desire for God, a loving remembering of him in his people and his universe. This single basic convic-tion naturally expresses itself in a thousand different ways according to the thousand diverse activities of the apostolic contemplative. Among these thou-sand ways are the following eleven (if you can recognize them in your ex-perience, then you have, I would ~hink, the "feel" of apostolic contempla-tion- in-action): 1. Hope: a pervading sense of the worthwhileness of one's present life and work for the future; a certain fearlessness in facing radical changes within one's community amid the sudden turnings of history. "Why is everyone so depressed?" 2. Patience: St. Paul's hypornone, the strength to stand underneath and to 339 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 hold everything together when all seems to be coming apart and others are deserting the supposedly sinking enterprise; a kind of dilapidated, yet dedicated, serenity amid much suffering and uncertainty. An ~'old-shoe" type says: "What's the big ~panic about?" 3. Need to be Hidden in teamwork: a wanting to contribute one's best quiet-ly; and yet, in times of stress, a boldness to take on the tough job of leadership. "Tell me what you want done--and if you can't tell me, I'll tell you." 4. Passive Alertness to Others: a willingness to wait, to listen, to hear out a person or a situation; a deep respect for the individuality of others; a refusal to domineer in conversation-work-dispute; no demand for a return on love given--because of trust in the other and in God. "I've got time to listen. Relax." 5. A Senseof Being Companioned through the day (at the fourth level): never being alone because at the centei" of one's heart and of the whole world'is the beloved: a turning to God, and frequently finding him there waiting. "Why worry about anything so long as the Lord is with me?" 6. Sense of an Intimate Providence in one's life, of being cared for with remarkable delicacy: events that at first put everything in jeopardy and turmoil eventually turn out to be fortunate; chancehappenings are later seen to fit together with precision; surprises'are taken as God's special attention to a person rather than as senseless interruptions to his or her life. "Someone loves me and is guiding me to himself over this rough road and dangerous terrain." 7. Sense of Belonging to God, to the Church (his people), to the mother of God, to one's community (parish, family, neighborhood, religious order, charismatic prayer-group): a sense of finally being at home--no matter where I travel; a deep content with God, world, oneself in the midst of contradiction. "Yes, my God owns the world--now what's the problem?" (". the world, life and death, the present and the future, are all your ser-vants; but you belong to Christ and Christ belongs to God" I Co 3:22-23.) 8. Firm Conviction of Doing Exactly What God Wants at the Moment and of not wanting to do anything else or to be anywhere else: a sense of rightness (without righteousness) about one's present action; a determined sense of vocation which is nevertheless ready for change; riding hard, yet sitting easy, in the saddle. "For the moment this is where it all is." 9. Constant Hunger to Serve Others: to give them joy, to help them expand their personalities in happiness-knowledge-commitment--even though the servant (e.g., teacher, counselor) will be soon forgotten and very likely will have little'to show for his or her services. "How can I be of help without getting in your way?" 10. A Steady Sense of Gratefulness to God: for the fullness of one's life--for each person, event, knock-at-the-door; a wonder at how much God has entrusted to oneself; gratitude, the mark of maturity and full humaneness. Contemplation-in-Action "How could you be so good to me, Lord?" 11. Finding God in Others: seeing by faith that this person is beloved by God; not projecting some Christ-image on the person so that the latter is not seen for himself and is therefore depreciated, but rather discovering this new value in the person, and therefore serving him more carefully, listening to him more attentively, finding his core-goodness. "He is my brother and Christ's brother.'" 0 These eleven modes (they could be a thousand) have an inner unity amid their diversity." First of all, each is concerned with the wholeness of both the contemplative and the object contemplated. For example, hope sums up the whole past and present to send the totality into the future without a constrict-ing fear; patience serenely holds the present fragmenting situation together; hidden teamwork binds the group together and offers leadership when fragmentation or misdirection threatens; passive alertness to others offers time and support for the healing process; the sense of being companioned at the center of one's being leads into a sense of providence intimately and delicately converging all events towards a full future goodness; the sense of belonging to God-community-worm produces a wholesome contentedness which paradox-ically can issue into fierce efforts to build a better community and world with the firm conviction of doing exactly What God wants at the moment; the con-stant selfless hunger to serve others naturally builds wholesome community; and the steady sence of gratefulness to God means gratefulness to other which, in turn, produces the close unity of friendship.'2 Clearly, then, this heart awareness of God, this apostolic religious contemplation-in-action, fulfills well the definition of contemplation as the perceiving and the building of wholesomeness in the comtemplative and in the object contemplated. There is a second inner unity among these eleven modes of contemplation-in- action. Evidently, each mode is itself an attitude (an habitually lived value) which inspires and molds the.activity flowing out of it. In other words, the mode of contemplation controls the actibn of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. But each of the eleven attitudes embodies, in its own way, a single attitude common to them all: a total accepting of all reality (God, t°Yves Raguin, S.J. (Paths to Contemplation, translated by Paul Barrett, O.F.M. Cap., Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1974, p. 82), stresses that "the love of God teaches us to love others for themselves., just as they are, with all their defects and with all their hopes." Here he finds common ground between Eastern and Western schools of contemplation, but also great differences (pp. 4-11). "In How to Pray Always without Always Praying (Fides/Claretian, Notre Dame, Ind., 1978) Silvio Fittipaldi, O.S;A., speaks of prayerfulness as a basic life-orientation under!ying all one's activities (p. vii). He then deftly shows how deep questioning of everyday events (pp. 11-27) and a constant wondering-longing about life (pp. 29-40) can be a praying always. These are two more modes to add to the eleven already noted. '21n his Letter to the Colossians, St. Paul, when listing the signs of Christian growth (1:9-12), ap-pears to mention five or six of these modes of contemplation in action. 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 world, self, people) and a sense of being, in turn, accepted by all reality.' ~ This attitude is a deep welcoming of all the people and events of life--an attitude symbolized when one's arms are extended wide in service and one's face bears a confident smile of trust." Now among the eleven modes, one may rise in prominence to succeed a second which then recedes to be called upon at a later time for a different situation. Though a person~may temporarily feel, for example, less hope or less sense of intimate providence, nevertheless these attitudes remain even though submerged under the new succeeding mode of, e.g., passive alertness to others. Meanwhile, the single deepest attitude of simple acceptance or welcome is being expressed in one of the eleven (or one thousand) modes. The modes, of course, vary according to the needs of the situation, the type of work being done, or the growth-phase of the contemplative-in-action. But always the single basic attitude of welcoming acceptance knits them together with expectant trust in God and his world. Could it be that this unify-ing attitude is what enables the apostolic contemplative "to pray always"? Could it be, then, that this basic acceptance of God and of his world is the ac-tive embodiment of a man's fundamental option?" The negative side of this acceptance is dramatized in the death-bed rejection of family, God, and world, when the dying person implies: "God, you'v.e cheated me consistently with this harassing world of yours and with this demanding family of mine. Now stay out of my life forever." Such basic cynicism, bubbling corrosively in each of us, can eat away the roots of apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. To face our cynicism may be to see more clearly the radical source of such ~c.ontemplation. Human Cynicism Versus the Divine Indwelling Over our contemporary culture a vast cloud of cynicism rolls, paralyzing the self-sacrificing attitude which empowers apostolic religious contempla- "Hans Urs Von Balthasar, in his article "On Unceasing Prayer" (Theology Digest Vol. 25/1, pp. 35-37), takes this basic attitude to be a readiness to hear God's word at all times in all things, events and persons. "To pray always, therefore, means to make real what is--in turning to God and to the world." For Von Balthasar, such constant prayer is kept alive by articulated or formal prayer in which it is remembered. "The books of George Maloney, S.J., sketch this weldoming attitude in various ways. Inward Stillness (Dimension Books, Denville, N.J., 1976), sees it as a loving surrender in all things to God's loving guidance (pp. 91-92) and as a heart-prayer of constant thankfulness (p. 99). Nesting in the Rock (Dimension Books, 1978, pp. 86 ff.), develops this theme. The Breath of the Mystic (Dimension Books, 1974, pp. 181-183), speaks of contemplation-in-action as a "contuition," a simultaneous awareness of the creature and of the dynamic presence of God within the creature as its ground of being; it is, then, a lov, ing affinity for all with all b~ings. ~qn his How to Pray Today (Abbey Press, St. Meinrad, Ind., 1975, translated by John Beevers, pp. 40-41), Yves Raguin, S.J., finds that the basic disposition for prayer is acceptance of the human condition. Such acceptance first acknowledges that every good act is under the influence of the Holy Spirit and then enjoys this fact amid all the ups and downs of secular activity. Contemplation-in-Action / 335 tion-in-action. In the face of mammoth social problems, contemporary man is oftencounseled: "Always watch out first for Number One, otherwise you'll be suffocated by other people's needs." The human mind and heart then con-cludes: "Apostolic contemplation-in-action is impossible." And the Lord replies within the heart of each person precisely as he responded to Peter's similar complaint in the episode involving the rich young man: "Yes; it is im-possible- without God." This complaint often takes the form of an objection: "How can I who am so aware of my own fragmentation and partialness be expected to help others to wholesomeness? Who am I to attempt apostolic contemplation-in-action?" The very formulation of this objection is a humiliating experience, yet the humiliation happens to be the first step in doing such contemplation-in- action. Tho married couple raising three young children has known from the days of the first birth that the one spouse's partiainess will, paradoxically and often humiliatingly, be the source of the other's wholesomeness. Hus-band and wife need each other's partialness to become whole, just as they need their own growing wholesomeness to lure their children to wholesome living and just as they need their children's needs tO call them to greater wholesomeness of action. Christ, knowing thoroughly the agony of bringing fragmentation to wholeness, is there to help with Cana's sacrament of matrimony. Thus, apostolic contemplation-in-action, through this sacra-ment, can be intimate to the daily routines of married life; while at the same time the seeming impossibility of marital contemplation-in-action reveals to the cynical that the heart-awareness of God and his people is pure gift. Not rarely the most cyn. ical person of all concerning apostolic contemplation-in-action is the priest ministering the sacrament of reconcilia-tion, that efficacious sign of ultimate wholeness. In the confessional, his fragmented, partial self laments: "I should be confessing to this good pe{son, not he to me. His wholesomeness comes through the more deeply he sorrows over his failures to be of help to his wife and children, his friends and co-workers." Yet as the Lord permeates the priest's absolution to heal the peni-tent, he simultaneously heals the priest precisely through the iatter's humilia-tion at his own fragmentation. The gift of reconciliation for the penitent can often contain the gift of apostolic contemplation-in-action for the priest. Somehow, in allowing God to work through him, the priest has acted beyond his own capacities as a human being and has simultaneously increased the wholeness of the penitent and of himself. But this example is not meant to imply that apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is easily acquired and done. For this basic attitude of welcoming acceptance of God and world, this heart-awareness of God and his people, animates and directs "the stretch," that continuous, disciplined action of serving, healing and challenging others beyond one's own capacities. For the gift of heart-awareness of God and his people demands that the apostolic contemplative constantly and painfully grow in generous action for 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 others. To operate beyond one's capacities in this way means to take risks con-tinually and to undergo humiliations inevitably. There must, then, be some unique source of illumination and strength within the being of the apostolic contemplative-in-action. Otherwise, he or she would fragment under the pressures and demands of such a life. It would appear that the divine indwelling of the Trinity is this ultimate source for apostolic religious contemplation-in-action. In Christ's prayer for his disciples (Jn 17:18-23), a prayer of "wholing" action, he speaks of "send-ing" the disciples, and all his believers, just as the Father had sent him so that "All may be one as you, Father, are in me and I in you; I pray that they may be [one] in us, that the world ma.), believe that you sent me." Apostolic contem-plation- in-action becomes, then, the manifesting of the Son, Jesus Christ, to the world in the apostolic actions of the contemplative. But the very action promoted by Jesus within the contemplative has also contained Jesus' mani-festation of the Father to this contemplative. As a result the contemplative's action in the world reveals both the Father and the Son. In this way, the apostolic contemplative becomes Their living glory expressed for all to see in the contemplative's maturing manhood or womanhood. Such action enables Father and Son to be present incarnately to the world. At the same time, the Spirit, indwelling in the people of God and in the contemplative, inflames the contemplative's actions so that they become more truly and fully acts of love (caritas) which simultaneously cause wholeness in others and in the con-templative. Here apostolic religious contemplation-in-action is seen to go far beyond the human capacities of the contemplative as it heals the world into wholesomeness through "the stretch." At this point, the problem of apostolic contemplation-in-action becomes more evident. Misunderstanding of it makes one feel falsely guilty for not hav-ing mystical graces of extraordinary mental vision and will-strength, for not being able physically to see Christ in the other, for not keeping the morning's solitary prayer in unbroken continuity through the day, for not enjoying fre-quent upsurges of strong consolation during work. But rather, it would seem that apostolic contemplation-in-action is the gradual and painful explicita- ~tion of the divine indwelling operative in all the contemplative's actions. It is the slow bringing-to-consciousness of the Trinity's workings within the con-templative's actions, within "the stretch." Now this gradual awareness is, concretely and basically, the apostolic con-templative's developing attitude of welcoming acceptance towards God, his people, and his world. By operating unobtrusively behind and within all the contemplative's actions in the world, this attitude leaves the contemplative's senses, mind, emotions, decision-power, and imagination free to concentrate on the particular work and the persons at hand. As a result, the contemplative is not less, but more, present to the work and the people; not less, but more, alert to their needs; not less, but more, hopeful of their expanding wholesomeness. Such total dedication, made possible by apostolic religious Contemplation-in-Action / 337 contemplation-in-action, becomes that magnificent self-forgetfulness which Karl Rahner sees as "praying always" and as beautiful surrender to God." Consequently, this deep heart-awareness of God and his people which constitutes apostolic contemplation-in-action can be a gradual expansion of the indwelling Trinity's effective presence within the contemplative's "stretch." This presence rises slowlythrough the contemplatives's whole be-ing so that his arms can go out in self-forgetting welcome to God and his world. Thus, the contemplative's subsequent actions carry ever more passion, strength, intelligence, compassion and wholesome beauty. Such con-templative action can then manifest strong love without crushing the beloved and competent service without condescension to the beneficiary. For it will in-clude the fuller action of the indwelling Trinity seeking to make all humans one as the Father, Son and Spirit are one in their own eternal wholeness of the divine family. ~6Karl Rahner, The Religious Life Today (Seabury, New York, 1976), p. 49. The" Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The White Robed Citadins of Paris M. Grace Swift, O.S.U. Sister Grace teaches at Loyola University of the South. Her mailing address is: Box 192; Loyola University; New Orleans, LA 70118. Ancient bells begin their clamorous count-down of eleven hours. A hooded nun, enshrouded in yards of creamy white wool, rises from her place on the matted rug-covered nave floor of St. Gervais et Protais Church, Paris. She mounts the steps, bows deeply before the icon enshrined on the massive altar, and with her Easter taper, lights the seven-branched menorah standing in back of the Eucharistic table. The Sunday liturgy begins as the celebrant and choir proclaim the central theme: "All you who have been baptized in Christ have put on Christ, Alleluia." During the next hour and a half people from all corners of Paris, indeed from all corners of the world, will find themselves involved in a liturgy that is uniquely prayerful, reverent, dramatic, and stunningly beautiful. For this is why this community came to be--to provide for harried urbanites a setting where they could find an oasis of prayer, where a celebration of the sacred mysteries could unfold with the leisurely, spellbinding grandeur of a true monastic milieu. The people of Paris have voted with their feet for the effort. Before the liturgy begins, the monks (roughly about a dozen) enter individually and kneel on the left side of the wide nave, their prayer area en-cased on two sides by choir stalls. An equal number of nuns, wearing the same deep-sleeved white habit enter, with only one apparent difference in their clothing: the nuns wear the capuche on their heads, while the monks allow it to hang down the back. In back of the kneeling monastic communities, the nave is filled with worshippers whokneel, like them (and very close to them), on the reed rug. Others sit on benches or chairs at the sides and in front of the altar area. In France, one may look in vain in many churches for young people at- 338 Citadins of Paris / 339 tending mass, but here, they are conspicuously evident. One willowy lad sits cross legged on the floor, proclaiming by his rigidly straight back and tucked in chin that he has dabbled in Zen. At times, many of the youths uninhihitedly imitate the profound, fetal-positioned bows of the worshipping monks and nuns. Some wear the special metal cross that identifies them as youths who have spent a week at Taiz6. A turbaned black girl peals forth the French lyrics with the sobbing overtones her tribal ancestors once used to summon dark Senegalese spirits. No guitars, no cheap gimmicks draw them there, for this liturgy is designed to meet the tastes of some of the most cultured urbanites of the world. Along with the youths, a solid strata of bourgeois Parisians also compose the congregation. Everywhere one spots nuns of various congrega-tions, as well as many men who by their nondescript blue and gray suits reveal to a trained eye that they are French priests. They, too, need the nourishment of St. Gervais. As mass progresses, a drunk ambles down the side aisle and dazedly turns 360°. With a blank stare at the congregation and a gesture of appeal with his hands he mutters, "Mes fr~res." He provides no lasting distraction, for all attention is riveted on the liturgical drama. Its magnetism lies not only in its splendid integration of prayer and majestic Byzantine-style music, but also in the witness of the monks and nuns themselves. The communities in charge of this liturgy are now called Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. The monks started life under the leadership of Pierre Marie Delfieux on November 1, 1975, with the invitation and blessing of FranCois Cardinal Marty of Paris. On December 8, 1976 a company of women formed in a neighboring area near the Church of Notre Dame des Blancs Manteaux. The Rule specifically states that there never was or would be any intention of having a mixed community; each group has its own separate establishment and administration, though they do celebrate the liturgy together and share the same spirit and aims--to be monks and nuns in the city, or citadins.~ They have no pastoral, sacramental, teaching, or organized charitable commitment. Signs notify the public that for weddings and sick calls, they can contact the neighboring churches. The members of these groups aim chiefly: 1) to be present in the city and 2) to celebrate the liturgy and divine office in company with the townspeople. The liturgy being a prime concern of their existence, they take time to plan and execute it with all the artistry their con-siderable, combined talents can effect. In choosing a style of.music for their services, the leaders concluded that much of the contemporary church music was shallow, both musically and theologically. Wanting a dominant style that would manifest a global unity, 'Two articles in French give some information al~out these communities: Jean Leclerq, O.S.B., "Tendances Monastiques Actuelles," Nouvelle Revue Theologique, 10e Ann6e, No. i (January- February, 1978), pp. 90-102 and "Naissance d'une Fraternit~ Monastique ~t Paris," Carmel (April, 1976), pp. 56-66. 340 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 they chose Byzantine modes to accompany their Roman liturgy. With lyrics based upon psalmic and patristic sources, translated effectively into French, the simple, strong, rolling harmonies are easily mastered. The result is almost total participation by the congregation. St. Gervais boasts one of the oldest and finest organs in Paris. It is used selectively and effectively at the end of the liturgy and during special times of meditative prayer. The sisters, with beautiful, clear voices, take an active role in leading the singing, in reading, and in gathering together the offertory procession, which always includes lay people and children. An abundant use of incense in the liturgy adds even more of an aura of Byzantine mystery to the ceremony. The Fraternit6 includes several priests. For the Sunday liturgy, the con-celebrants sing, in three harmonic parts, the canon of the mass. Some other parts of the mass, sung alone by the chief celebrant, are accompanied by a background of soft, harmonic melody, hummed by the monks and nuns. At communion time, the frdres and soeurs draw together to form a half-circle about the altar, completed sometimes by lay. members of the congregation. The priests chant in harmony: "Receive the body of Christ," to which the congregation responds in the same harmonic parts: "We receive the body of Christ." A huge host, the size of an American dinner plate, is broken and dist~'ibuted to the encircled brothers and sisters. The same sung ritual accom-panies the chalice. The result is a moving evocation of a truly shared banquet. The total impression given by all the reverent and graceful movements of the mass is that this is the most important event in the lives of the celebrating com-munity- which is just as it should be. The Monastic Fraternit6s The vocation of citadin was revealed to the founder of the F.raternit6s after profound searching in prayer. The rules for community life have been developed in stages, after actual experience in communal living. The guidelines (for communal use only) are now contained in two mimeographed volumes: l) Au Coeur des Villes, au Coeur de Dieu (At the Heart of the Cities, At the Heart of God) and 2) Le Livre de Vie(The Book of Life). Abundant scriptural references in the latter remind the reader that Mary lived, Jesus taught, the apostles evangelized, and prophets and priests of old sacrificed, in the city. Christ fought the devil and conquered him in a city; the fire of the Holy Spirit descended in a city. The beloved of the Canticle sought her Lover while running about the city, and one day He will make the city his beautiful spouse. Indeed, Heaven itself is a City. "It is there that we must remain," the Rule affirms, since God himself dwells there, and thousands of his brothers work, love, weep, sweat, sing, search, struggle and pray there. The Church of St. Gervais is surrounded by all the civic bustle entailed in commerce and governmental administration. It is near the Quais du Seine where lovers stroll l and tourists buy postcards. Its metro stop is H6tel de Ville, the seat of many offices of Parisian city government. Walking in another direction, a visitor Citadins of Paris / 341 soon meets Rue Rivoli, a thriving center of cheap stores and sidewalk vendors selling anything from ice cream to wool stockings. The picturesque Tie Saint Louis, an ancient area called the Marais, and le Forum des Halles are also located in its orbit. The Rule does not lightly gloss over the difficulties of trying to live a monastic life amidst the allurements of one of the world's most beguiling cities. But, the Livre de Vie asks, "Being torn in two directions, is this not the cross?" To be able to live in the city without succumbing to its worldliness, rules of life are spelled out in the Le Livre de Vie which provide for the monks and nuns an armor of fraternal charity, interior and exterior silence, and liberating poverty. Concrete community guidelines focus upon five related points: 1) Fraternal Life 2) Prayer 3) Work 4) Silence and 5) Welcome and Sharing. Fraternal Charity The Rule never ceases to demand love, both of humanity in general and, harder still, of each other. "Only a very great love can offer the world a legitimate and fair defiance," the Livre de Vie explains. "Our vocation is to be a theophany of the love of God, a living icon of the Trinity. There is no more beautiful liturgy, no more eloquent witness, than that of fraternal love. We must live in the heart of the city the mystery of that love." Along with such a sublimely beautiful articulation of theory, the rule gives some concrete sug-gestions for achieving it: "Ask each day that God pour into your heart love for your brothers, and also to place love for you in their hearts. God can refuse nothing to a community who prays this way., ask the trinitarian God to reveal to you the secret of his unity in plurality . In order to succeed in loving, become transparent. Let yourself be known and seek to know. Knowledge opens the way necessarily to love . Do not be content to be a brother of all; be also a friend of each . Pray that the monastic fraternity be entirely translucent to the Presence of the Word, as a foyer of Light . " Prayer Designedly, the community life of prayer has both very public and very private features. Compline is said in their own oratories, but for the monks, the other hours are sung in St. Gervais, with public participation. The p~riod of evening pra~;er begins around 5 p.m. At that time, monks, nuns and townspeople begin to gather for meditative prayer, followed by the evening office. The office flows into the liturgy about 6 p.m., which finally finishes about 7:15. On Thursday night, the monks keep a prayer vigil from 8 p.m. to 7 a.m. "Pray in the night in the center of the miseries and joys of the city, where ~God has placed you, as a watchman awaits the dawn," the Livre de Vie exhorts. The founders realized that the execution of such a horarium and liturgy each day could be draining; for that reason the communities have a poustinia (desert) time during Sunday afternoon and the full day of Monday, 342 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 which is spent in the country outside Paris. They join Parisians in the national custom of taking a grand vacance during the month of August. Work To support themselves, the members of the Fraternit~s must take jobs in the city. Guidelines demand that their work must be truly useful, prayerful, well executed, and bear witness to their professed poverty. In line with their vow of obedience, their job is chosen in consultation with the prior and council of the community. No job may be taken which could alienate or destroy their religious equilibrium. By a deliberate option to work only part time, they hope not only to free themselves for liturgical participation, but also to manifest to an acquisitive society their own disinterest in amassing wealth. Though they take menial jobs, there is no political aim or thrust to this option. "Ni Marx, ni Keynes, ni Mao. mais Jesus," declares the Livre de Vie. They are to have no role whatsoever in political life, since in that arena, divisions, confronta-tions and compromises are the rule of life. Instead, they are to manifest the Gospel of Peace in the polis by their lives of justice and truth. This alone is their "political" role. However, in an elocution to the community, Cardinal Marty urged them to be "revolutionary"-- but revolutionary in fidelity to their monastic commitment only. Silence To combat the noisy assaults of city streets, with their roaring, swirling masses of buses, autos, motorcycles and scurrying citizens, the monks and nuns are urged by rule to drink deeply of the wellsprings of prayerful silence: "At work, in the street, in your comings and goings, in the public transport, in the midst of the brouhaha of the city, carry interior silence with you. Take, each day, large expanses of silence, and when the evening comes, meditate on your couch in peace and silence. God lives in you; listen to him." Welcome and Sharing One purpose of the Fraternit~s is' to provide an enclave of such silence and peace for other Parisians. Guests are welcomed to full participation at the silent dinner served at their flower-bedecked wooden tables. In contrast to ~normal French custom, no wine, and little meat are to appear at the table. Round loaves of thick crusted, substantial bread form an important part of their diet: Though visitors are welcome, there are definite limits placed upon thepenetration of Paris (and the world in general) into the horarium of the monastic community. Afternoons are for lectio divina. The Livre de Vie tells the entering candidate to leave aside his address book, and to give up once and ~f for all shows and cinemas. Television has no part in their life, but a summary of the day's news is read at breakfast from the newspaper. Citadins of Paris / 343 Life-Style Guidelines for the community actually allow for a diversity of life-styles and a diversity of relationships to the community, within limits. However, only those who agree to follow the Livre de Vie may make final profession. Presently (1980) the Fraternit~s have the status of a pious union. After a postulancy of three months and a novitiate of two years, a candidate makes temporary profession "entre les mains" (between the hands) of the prior. After a period suitably long to discern a true vocation to the life, the bishop of the local church receives the perpetual profession of vows of the candidate in the local church, for the universal church. The coule blanche, the liturgical habit, has many sacred significances. It reminds the wearer of his white bap-tismal garment when he dons it. Its radiant whiteness recalls as well the Transfiguration and the angel on Easter morn, who wore a garment white as snow. The Ancient One in Daniel's vision had snow bright clothing, and a man in dazzling robes appeared to Cornelius in Acts. At home, the monks wear a short, blue hooded smock, topped by a wooden cross suspended from the neck. The latter is also worn with their street clothes. The sisters, like many other groups, have types of non-liturgical dress that vary with their jobs and mode of life. Several wear floor-length blue habits, veils and capes in the streets. Others wear the simple clothing of working women. Spiritual Wellsprings The founder acknowledges his debt to many traditions in developing the spirituality of the Fraternit6s: to Benedict, Dominic, Augustine, Theresa of Avila, the Early Eastern Fathers, Charles de Foucauld, and above all, to the first Christian community described in Acts, as well as the fraternity immediately surrounding Jesus Christ himself. The Livre de Vie and Au Coeur des Villes are liberally enriched with quotes from sources as widespread in time as St. John Cassian and Catherine de Hueck. Believing that communal self-sufficiency in spiritual matters is ossifying, members are urged to nourish themselves on outside resources. The candidate is encouraged to spend a week at a school of prayer at Troussures, France, and make a retreat at a monastery such as St. Benoit sur Loire. Finally, a month-long desert experience at a place like Assekrem, Morocco, is encouraged. Future Plans It is quite evident that this group has tried to proceed every step of the way attuned to the promptings of the Spirit. The Fraternit6s have been invited to bring their type of monasticism to various cities. So far, they have accepted one invitation: under the priorship of Bishop Michel Marie Darmencieo, a member of the Fraternit6, they now are situated at St. Victor's Church at Marseilles, the scene of a monastery established by St. John Cassian. By rule, the community is forbidden to own property or t6 build anything. Wherever they go, they must rent their dwelling place. Into whatever city they do go, ~i44 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 ~they will enter with the purpose expressed in the explanatory sheet distributed in St. Gervais; to "experien.ce the difficulties, alienations, struggles, work, constraints, fatigue, noise, pollution, pains and joys, the sin and the holiness" of the city. Wherever they go, they likewise bear with them the spirit expressed in the Livre de Vie: "Do not forget that the community where you live is the privileged part of the universe where you are to situate yourself. May your monastery be first of all a part of the world where there is life, where love is shared, where joy, work, fervor, praise and peace are to be found. As at home, so also in the world. Reveal and find God in the heart of the world; remember its first beauty and anticipate its happiness to come. In the desert of the urban world may your monastery be an oasis of peace, prayer and joy; an epiphany of Love." On the final page of the Livre de Vie, Psalm 136 is transcribed: . If l forget you Jerusalem, Maymy right hand wither. One does not easily forget a liturgy at St. Gervais in communion with Les Fraternit~s Monastiques de Jerusalem. End of Drought 1 half awoke last night And wondered if I'd heard Soft whisperings outside my window. 1 was about to go back and continue my dream Then 1 stopped--and listened again. Yes, it was true A gentle rain Soft falling on my lawn. The bone cracked earth and croaking grackles Could drink again. It was a stealthy rain Loathe to intrude on the silent sleepers. Then in the morning it blew full blast And blessed the farmers and the flowers. Sr. Mary Margaret O'Grady Holy Ghost Convent 301 Yucca Street San Antonio, Texas 78203 Transfer to a Contemplative Community Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie's last article in these pages, "The Discernment of the Contemplative Vocation," appeared in the January 1981 issue. Her address remains: 1916 N. Pleasantburg Dr.; Greenville, SC 29609. These very days of your transition are perhaps the time when everything in you is working at him. Rainer Maria Rilke Though the changes in religious life consequent upon Vatican 1I are still too recent for adequate evaluation, they are beginning, at least, to come into the focus of observable patterns. One of these is the phenomenon of transfers from one religious congregation to another. A small but significant number of religious have opted to remain in religious life, but to live out their vowed commitment in another community. Perhaps this .emerging pattern will have something important to say about the future of religious life itself, and about the kinds of communities that have a future. However, any such speculation seems very premature at this point. What is immediate is the process itself, and what it means for individuals and for their communities. A few workshops have been devoted to this process of transferring, and several articles have appeared describing some of its pains and joys. But, for the most part, what has been presented is the movement from one apostolic congregation to another. The present article wishes to focus on transfers from an apostolic community to a contemplative one, a process that relates not only to the transfer phenomenon but also to that growing concern for prayer, and 345 346 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 especially for contemplative prayer, which has been one of the most hearten-ing aspects of the contemporary renewal of religious life. Transferring from one apostolic congregation to another has its own dynamics, quite distinct from what is involved in making the transition into contemplative community life. Failure to appreciate this difference makes it more difficult for communities and for individuals to cooperate with the promise and to evaluate the phenomenon. At the same time there are elements common to any such transferring--questions, for example, of the danger in-herent in the change, the discernment of motivation, as well as the paschal grace of such uprooting and coming into new life. It is the purpose of this paper to present some of these aspects as they are experienced in unique ways by the "contemplative transfer." Dangers and Difficulties To begin with a warning is only appropriate when there is real danger and when the danger may not be immediately evident. Such seems to be the case in regard to transferring. The process of transfer can be dangerous and the danger remain somewhat hidden, since the holiness of the objective may obscure a faulty theology undergirding the process, some confusion about growth in prayer, along with some elements of escapism and/or mixed motivations. The consequences of transfer can be as serious as the loss of religious vocation for the individual and the disruption of peace for both communities involved. Faulty theology may present the contemplative, monastic community as a more "perfect" form of religious life, even downplaying the importance of apostolic involvement as "too worldly." Since any vocational choice can only be evaluated in terms of the person choosing, speaking of an objective "state of perfection" seems to miss the point. Just as religious life itself can be termed a more perfect state (even in the Vatican II terminology ofPerfectae Caritatis) without implying that it would be so for any particular individual, so too, could some such judgment be made about contemplative life. But what is "~ important for the individual to consider is what is better for himself, not what is "more perfect" in the abstract and the general. Moreover, a spiritual theology which rests on the assumption that "one must always do the more perfect" is doomed to run into danger on the rocks of human limitation. Such perfectionism threatens strain and excessive preoccupation with self, neither of which fosters a contemplative spirit. Even for those who are immune from such a false theology, there remains a possible confusion about development in prayer. Sometimes a call to contemplative prayer is translated into a call to monastic life--with conse-quent loss.for the whole Christian community. The transition from a form of prayer that is more active to one that is more passive is a difficult time for anyone. Thomas Dubay has called this the "crack" period in religious development, and it may be compared with the difficulties and crises that are Transfer to a Contemplative Community part of any of the transitions from one life-stage to another. Such critical times do not provide the stability that makes possible good life-choices. Growth into a more contemplative form of prayer is actually part of the development that can be considered "normal" for most persons who are serious about prayer. It says more about the munificence of God's gifts and his desire to be one with us, than about any need to change communities. The latter is a very different kind of call and consequently, one that needs to be discerned separately. Transferring to a contemplative monastery during a crisis time in prayer might mask a reluctance to face the difficulties of persevering in prayer during times of dryness. Individuals may imagine that once they are enclosed, distractions will disappear and consolations will return--in abundance. They will be quickly disabused of such hopes in the everyday of monastic living. Even the prospect of having ample time provided for prayer will prove to hold its own challenge. For "more time" can also mean "more demands": more awareness of distractions, more painful dryness. Add to this all the unsettle-ments that are bound to be part of such a radical adjustment as transferring and prayer may well prove to be even more difficult than before. Similarly, any secret desire to escape the challenges of renewal or to insulate oneself from painful community relationships will be tested in the closeness of contemplative community. Unfortunately, some religious seem to equate monastic religious life with the kind of structured life in community that prevailed before Vatican II. So the desire to transfer can spring from a search for a more compatible expression of apostolic religious life, rather than ~t'~a genuine contemplative vocation. In reality contemplative communities have been just as much affected by Vatican II renewal as have apostolic congrega-tions. Changes, for example, in the living out of enclosure have caused just as many painful tensions as have adaptations in apostolic involvement. Struc-tures have developed in both forms of religious life and will continue to do so. Renewal requires participation, not escape, no matter where one is called to live. Nor does a transfer necessarily ease the tensions of community relation-ships. On the contrary, living in the close, everyday proximity of enclosed community may only heighten such tensions. Spending all one's days with the very same people, in a restricted area and with a limited sphere of activity can never provide escape from the interpersonal. "Contempla(ive community" actually requires a well-developed capacity for sharing life with others, including a delicate balance between intimacy and a respect for solitude which enables one to live with others in a silence that communicates life. In a similar way, an authentic call to transfer is anything but an escape from apostolic involvement. On the contrary, what will be needed is a vibrant desire to be given to and for the sake of others, joined with a faith that is strong enough to translate this call into an everyday service that is not sustained by any immediately tangible results. So if a person is dissatisfied with the :348 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 results of his apostolic work, it would be foolish to try and escape into the even less satisfying life of faith that is the "labor" of the contemplative. And if anyone hopes to find a variety of stimulating options within the everyday tasks of contemplative community, he will be rapidly disillusioned. Even the more plausible motivation of resolving a conflict between prayer and activity can speak more of escapism than of genuine call. Vocation is not discerned negatively, but only through such positive signs as a genuine desire for a life of prayer (not just more time for prayer) and a belief that this self-gift will bear fruit in and for the Church. Such positive criteria for discern-ment will be presented in more detail in the following section of this paper. These, then, are a few of the hidden dangers rising from faulty theology, a confusion about growth in prayer, and tendencies to eseapism, which could prompt an individual to transfer for the wrong reasons. Still to be considered are some of the real dangers involved in the process itself both in terms of the individual and of the communities involved. When a person professes vows, the commitment is made to God, but it is made within the context of a particular community, and this communitarian aspect is not to be changed lightly. Though made by man and so changeable in itself, life in community embodies a call that is divine and eternal. In all its particularity, community gives a specific form to vocation. While not of the essence, still this form may be a very important, even necessary, condition for vocation to grow and flourish. Consequently, changing from one community to another risks undermining the stability of the individual's commitment. If the new community does not provide the hoped-for environment, return to the former one may prove to be impossible and so a vocation may be lost. Other risks inherent in transferring center around the extent of adjustment which will certainly be profound. "Culture shock" is almost inevitable. Even though the "natives" of the adopted community speak "English," still new values, different associations will make it difficult to discover the meaning of words and actions, of response, and of nonverbal communication. The result will be a feeling of lostness and confusion that cannot be met by something as simple as asking questions. For there are no words in which to phrase the ques-tions, no answers that make sense. There may even be an unnerving lack of awareness that something has been "misunderstood" until confusion has deepened into a cloud as indefinite and suffusing as fog: Similarly homesickness for one's community of origin can be even more profound than the feeling that accompanied one's first leaving home for the convent. For the home that is now being left has claimed more of one's adult life and so has called for a freer choice, a more committed response. To leave ~one's family for .the sake of forming new life-bonds is part of the naturalpro-cess of growth and development. But leaving the community of one's first choice for another is not so natural, and the consequences are often profound and disturbing. In the process a certain spirit of criticism can develop. This may even bea necessary part of discernment as one reevaluates call and response, one's own Transfer to a Contemplative Community / ~149 vocation and that of both communities involved. But such critical reflection can become a pattern of thinking that keeps one on the periphery, "watching" and judging way beyond the period when this stance is necessary. This spirit of uninvolved criticism chips away at commitment and makes participation in community impossible. Such are a few of the real dangers involved for individuals who are con-sidering transfer'ring. What are the risks for the communities? Loss of membership in the original community is one obvious area of concern--not just the obvious matter of a person leaving this community to join another. What may be far more painful is the kind of vocational questioning that can arise among other members of the parent community. Such reevaluation may be wholesome, if it leads to renewed discernment of and commitment to one's own vocational choice. But it can also be weakening if it simply adds to diminished morale, feelings of hopelessness and that sense of disillusionment that plagues so many during times of transition. Similarly, the community receiving the transfer can have its peace dis-turbed if the new member, already a formed religious, brings along an incom-patible spirituality together with an undocile mind and heart. Within the closeness of contemplative community, such lack of harmony can be pro-foundly disturbing to all, with consequent loss of service to the whole Church. Such are the dangers in~,olved, both for individuals and for communities. The difficulties are real; the cost is certainly not minimal. The basic question is, then: Is transferring worth theprice? Are the real risks offset by still greater advantages? Are there compensations for the dangers? Yes, if transferring ac-tualizes a more personalized call-response, leading to still deeper commit-ment. When such is the case, not only will the individual find fuller life in the Lord, but both communities involved will also be enriched; such is the unity of all members in the one Body of Christ. The whole question of transferring, then, seems to hinge on the validity of this new call-within-a-call. Theologically such development is possible since the only absolute fidelity in this special covenant relationship is found in a God "whose love is everlasting." The response of any individual can only par-ticipate in this love through an ongoing "creative fidelity" aimed at fashion-ing all life's choices in the light of an original baptismal commitment. The direction for such responsiveness will always be toward greater specificity, a more personal love. Though this ongoing response will be shaped within the context of a particular community, this form, while remaining important, is still only conditional. It may be changed, if this will serve to realize more closely one's first commitment t6 the Lord. Particularly, then, for our present purposes the issue revolves around discernment of an authentic call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative life. Discernment an Authentic Call to Transfer What might be some of the signs that one is being called to deepen one's ~i50 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 baptismal commitment by transferring religious profession from an apostolic congregation to a contemplative community? Here we shall suggest a few of the practical ways in which the traditional vocational criteria of desire, right motivation, and ability to live the life, are evidenced in the case of a proposed ttransfer. \ A long-term desire for contemplative life seems one of the clearest signs that someone should undertake the risks of making a transfer. In many cases, this desire was already present at the time the individual entered religious life but, for a variety of reasons, it was never actualized. Circumstances may simply have made it impossible; ignorance or poor advice may also have con-tributed. So the desire was put aside, perhaps completely forgotten. Profes-sion was made, and that commitment lived out wholeheartedly and with joy. But years later the desire for contemplative life reappears. Sometimes it is recognized as a familiar part of one's past; sometimes it comes as a new and surprising idea with recognition only following later. In either case, such con-tinuity with the past provides a sense of direction in the unfolding of one's per-sonal salvational history. Even when.the desire for contemplative life is not remembered or recogniz-ed as part of one's past, at some point in the present the emergence of this desire becomes so strong that it can no longer be ignored. When first en-countered consciously, the desire is more often a matter of wanting to live out contemplative values rather than a careful comparison/choice of active-i verSus-comtemplative community. A whole life devoted to prayer, supported and challenged by a community of other "pray-ers," by solitude and silence, combined with a very simple, even austere style of life: these are some of the values that become increasingly important. As desire for them grows, so, too, does the longing for a way of living them out more fully and completely. At first this may be met by providing more time for prayer, arranging to live in a prayer-centered local community or one which is experimenting with a simpler way of living. For some, such restructuring of life-style is the answer; for others this is not enough, and the desire continues to grow. A period in a House of Prayer may be another option and, once again, this may provide the right balance of prayer and active apostolate for certain individuals. For others, the quest must continue simply because the desire for a purely con-templative life continues, increases, and must ultimately be met in life. This longing for a way to live out contemplative values may lead one final-ly to a moment of realization and choice. Apostolic religious life can no longer ~provide the support, stimulation, structure for the kind of contemplative life to which the religious feels called. And at this point, transferring becomes a matter of vocational decision. Such recognition is eminently paschal, filled as it is with the painful realization that one must leave behind his "homeland" and "pass over" a desert of unknowns. Yet there is also joy, an anticipation that what lies ahead promises more life, deeper peace. Even the pain of leaving the congregation of one's first profession is somewhat tempered by the realization that unless he Transfer to a Contemplative Community had given of himself there, had truly identified, there would be no loss now. Nor would there be much hope of future success. This experience of having been fully part of one's original congregation, of having found peace and joy in community there, is almost a presupposition of any authentic call to transfer. Someone who has not been happy originally probably will not find any more satisfaction in contemplative life. On the other hand, an individual who has known what it means to give himself to community and in community may come to realize that another successful identification is possible, even though it will be made with some pain. This returns us to the whole complex question of motivation. Why should an individual who has already made profession consider transferring his com-mitment to a contemplative community? In the preceding section we examined a whole series of false motivations, including poorly founded theological prin-ciples, escapism, and an inadequate understanding of contemplative life. These need to be confronted, not in the safety of abstraction, but in the reality of one's own life-experience, and with the realistic help of others who know the individual and both forms of religious life. Of even greater importance is the discerning of positive motivation, since a mere lack of obstacles does not give clear indication that a person ought to go ahead in a certain new life direc-tion. Vocation is positive call, not just an absence of negative criteria. To ask the "why" of one's motivation is important and fruitful but only so long as one keeps in mind that the "answer" cannot be found by adding up worttiy reasons, for, in the last analysis, human motivation remains mystery. It can never be known in its totality, with certainty. The reasons we give are, at best, approximations, and the final answer to the "why" is found only in the living out of the decision. Having recognized that a list of reasons never adds up to certitude, still it can be an indicator that an individual should risk the time and energy of a fur-ther discernment in actual life. Very often the "why" of a transfer can only be phrased in an unsatisfying "because, somehow, I can do nothing else." Such an experience of almost necessity, of inability to do anything else with one's life until this pressing question has been answered, may be an uncomfortable, but true indicator of basic motivation. Such necessity, though, is not a matter of compulsiveness, but rather of a freedom that grows, once the internal logic of choice has been admitted and acted upon. A person may come to discover that his whole movement of life has been in the direction of contemplative vocation, though the surface geography of his activities has been quite different. These very differences may even have been unconscious protest. Such, for example, is the case of an individual who has been a strong advocate of apostolic spirituality, of social involvement, of variety in ministries. All the while, what the person has been seeking on the deepest level, is a way of giving himself completely to the Lord. All the above are real ways; all have been tried. But all still leave something "wanting." "How can I be more giving?" becomes less of a question to be considered. Now it demands an answer that must be made in life. ~52 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 Traditionally, someone entering the monastery is asked, "What do you seek?" If the first answer, not just in liturgy, but in life is "The Lord," then there is good hope that what is being sought will be found. This is not to say that the person considering transfer has not already "found the Lord." But, like the good Christian who considers religious life just because of his previous discovery of the Lord, so too the individual who seriously considers transfer should only be desirous of greater union, a kind of intimacy that, for this par-ticular individual, seems more realizable in contemplative community. Put in still more concrete terms, someone who is already a religious may apply for a transfer because he experiences a desire to give prayer an absolute priority of time, energy, life-focus. In apostolic religious life, consideration of the needs of others, and of one's response to these needs, must always be cen-tral to discernment; this seems to be the meaning of apostolic spirituality. In monastic life, however, the central concern is the totality of life of prayer, and it is this dedication to prayer which becomes one's service to others. Consequently, the desire to give oneself to others through total dedication in prayer is central to any discernment of contemplative vocation, and this becomes even more critical when there is a question of transfer. This is because the person desirous of transfer has already internalized a spirituality of active, direct service, and his transition to a quite different orientation may not come easily or quickly, But unless an individual can come to see silence, solitude, simple manual work, austerity of life-style as contributing to a life of abiding prayer, and further, believe that personal prayer, lectio and liturgy are one's own call to building up the Body of Christ, then contemplative, monastic life will seem empty and fruitless. Moreover, such belief cannot re-main an intellectual assent, nor even an abstract faith-value; it must become personal conviction and motivation for life. Ultimately, then, desire and motivation are just the beginnings of discern-tment for a contemplative vocation. Only by living the life can the presence or absence of God's enabling grace be discovered. So let us conclude by sug-gesting some of the areas which will be particularly relevant in the life-testing of a call to transfer from apostolic to contemplative religious life. Will the potential transfer-person be able to go beyond the initial obstacles of radical adjustment with all its attendant anxiety, of separation from the original community which has provided so much of his identity and emotional support? Put in more positive terms, will the person, first of all, "survive" the transfer? For some, the culture shock, already alluded to, is so severe that there is consequent loss of health or debilitating emotional disturbance. And this, not just in the first crisis of adjustment, where it might well be expected, but increasingly as time goes on. When this happens, life experience leads to a negative discernment. On the contrary, when the Spirit is truly inspiring a person to make the transfer, then, despite the pain, growth will occur. Radical adjustment, separation anxiety, culture shock will all be in the service of conversion. The Transfer to a Contemplative Community / 353 individual will grow and grow in contemplative ways. A new identity will begin to emerge when the more familiar response of teacher, nurse, "member of." are no longer applicable. There will be a new appreciation for one's unique giftedness as person, simply because one is and one exists as a special expression of the Father's creative love. Growth will also occur through positive identification with the new com-munity. Ac.ceptance takes time but gradually new relationships will be formed, an individual will fit in, and his suitability for the life will be confirmed by the response of the community. What begins in strangeness will end in familiarity. For example, enclosure will no longer be a matter of adjustment, perhaps of difficulty, but will evolve into a simple means of ensuring the kind of solitude necessary for prayer. Prayer, in its turn, will grow and deepen. The regular praying of the Liturgy of the Hours in choir will no longer be unfamiliar ritual, nor frequent "interruption," but regular nourishment and opportunity for praise. The simplicity of the life, far from being monotonous, will lead to peace, making possible a "richness" of response that can only be sustained within a somewhat austere life-style. All of this, however, takes time. It requires effort on the part of the one who transfers; it requires also acceptance and assistance on the part of the community. Above all, it requires the empowering grace of God's call. When all of these are present, and when the passing of months and even years has allowed for a new identity to be formed, then the transferred person will final-ly come to recognize himself as a contemplative, a member of his new com-munity. The past will merge into this new present and integration will occur. For example, former skills and talents will find new expressions or will be sacrificed, "counted as nothing," in view of something still more worthwhile. Painful parts of the past will be healed; grateful remembering will allow all that has been to be incorporated into the present and open the way to the future. In short, adjustment will make way for gradual growth, and this growth will be in the direction of incorporation into the new community. When this occurs, the transfer will have been accomplished, and a new identification will have been made. The individual, as well as both communities, will be enriched, because, whenever life is lived more fully, the w.hole Body of Christ is vitalized. Let me conclude with a comparison. Among the old Irish monks, the grace of martyrdom was described in three ways: the "red" martyrdom of shedding one's blood, the "white" martyrdom of desire to give One's life for the sake of the gospel, and finally, the "green" martyrdom of exile, of pilgrimage and ac-cepted separation for the sake of new life in Christ. The transferred person may well find the grace of this unique vocation expressed in the hope-filled "green" of separation from what is familiar, good, loved, for the sake of greater union-- in contemplative community. The Right to Solitude Roman Ginn, O.C.S.O. Father Ginn, a monk of Gethsemani Monastery in Kentucky, has been living as a hermit in Latin America for the past fourteen years. His last article, "The Ladder of Prayer," appeared in the January, 1980 issue. Father Ginn's marling address is: Apartado 44; Huajuapan de Leon; Oaxaca, Mexico. The renewed interest in hermitical life during the last three decades should not be viewed with alarm but as a rediscovery of one of the first and most traditional forms of contemplative life. This rediscovery is taking place at a time when men are becoming more aware of their essential needs and rights. Speaking in the Music Council assembled by UNESCO, the violinist, Yehudi Menuhin, declared some twenty years ago that silence is one of man's princi-pal needs and concluded: "I hope that the right to silence will be recognized as being as important as the right to pure water and air." But the same claim should be extended to solitude. For if man is a social being who cannot develop as a person in perpetual solitude, in a very true sense he is also an un-social being who experiences the impersonality and artificiality unavoidable in relations with others (excepting perhaps with those who form his intimate cir-cle) as a kind of violence. The person's relation with society is problematic and neither his need for communication nor for solitude can be left unsatisfied without damage. But how can solitude be called aoneed and a right? Neither primitive peoples nor children feel any such need. But this is because they do not see it as a positive value but as isolation. Even the ea,rly Hebrews missed its positive side. They regarded solitude as an evil, a co~nsequence of sin, and promised God's special protection to those .moist exposed to it: the poor, widows, strangers and orphans. The Greeks however attained a positNe view of it. The hero of the Greek tragedies lives in a solitude that is both a condemnation and 354 ~ The Right to Solitude / :355 a privilege. Sophocles, for example, presents Oepidus as passing from a period of painful isolation into a new form of solitude that has something divine about it. But even if the Hebrews never escaped from a negative concept of solitude, they discovered the key to its understanding as a positive reality. For they gradually realized that each must 'learn to separate from the collectivity and face God and his will as an individual as well'as a member of society. They also saw that God could call some individuals to positions of confrontation with society which would force them to live in isolation. But they never managed to transform this isolation into a privileged situation and a means of closer union with God. So, without grasping the value of their discovery, they passed on the secret that man's development as a person is somehow connected with his ability to temporally break his ties to society in order to take possession of himself as a unique reality, an individual and responsible I. They present Jeremiah, for example, living through an isolation he deplores without know-ing how it is slowly transforming him from a timid, village youth into God's iron, ~ The oriental religions appreciated solitude as something positive long before the coming of Christ. Early Buddhist texts are full of its praise as a means of spiritual development. Even though Buddha himself later prescribed communal life for his followers, he never lost his esteem for solitude. In a statement preserved by the Itivattka, for example, he says: "O monks, have your dwelling and delights in solitude. Rejoice in solitude, dedicated to mental calmness in the depths of your selves, without forgetting to meditate, penetrated .with intuition; seek your dwelling in desert spots." The Udana records the story of the monk Bhaddiya who lived in a mango forest. Passersby had often heard him repeating over and over: "What happiness!" When they told Buddha about him, he called the monk and asked for an ex-planation. Bhaddiya replied: ¯ Sir, before, when i was a layman and enjoyed royal power as the father of a family, I had guards distributed both inside and outside my palace . And in spite of the fact that I was protected and safeguarded in such a way, I lived tormented by fear, restless, suspicious, frightened. Now, sir, wherever I find myself in the woods, under a tree or in a solitary spot, even though I am alone, I live without fear, tranquil, trustful, without trepidation, unworried, in peace, with whatever others give me, with my mind as free as a forest animal. This is why I repeat: "What happiness, what happiness." The poetic sections of the Buddhist canon love to use images of forest animals to describe the advantages of the solitary life. "Like a lion that over-comes everything, that wanders victorious as king of the forest, visiting its most distant corners and unfrightened by rumors." The solitary individual is likewise compared to the elephant and rhinoceros. The localities chosen by the first followers of Buddha as most apt for the pursuit of their end are another indication of the positive value they saw in solitude: mountains, forests, caves and cemeteries. 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 When Christian monasticism appeared in the mid-third century, it manifested a similar love for solitude, inspired of course by Jesus' example (See Mr. 4). Like their Oriental brothers, the Christian monks regarded it as the mother of the spiritual life. Cassian felt that normally the more solitude a monk had, the greater was his perfection.He put his third conference on the lips of Abbot Paphnutius, who lived in such inaccessible places that even other hermits "only with great difficulty caught a glimpse of him every now and then." Such a man was fittingly surnamed the Buffalo. But the fact that most of the praises of solitude in the early Church originated with monks (or ex-monks like St. John Chrysostom) does not mean it was something that concerned them alone. If they exploited it more than others, it was only because in general they took Christian life more seriously, and experienced the positive role of solitude in its development. Their appraisal has been confirmed by modern philosophers. Kierkegaard among Christian, and Nietzsche among non-Christian thinkers strongly stress the importance of solitude for personal development, If they exaggerate, this is only a perhaps necessary reaction to modern society's fear and devaluation of solitude. Nietzsche makes it the supreme value, one indispensable for the growth of all others. For a Christian it can only be a means, even though one - greatly neglected today. As the Greeks saw and the Hebrews sensed without clearly understanding, solitude reveals man's deepest self to him making it possible for him to become aware of his interior resources and discover meaning in his life. Because of its value in helping the individual pass from the suggestion of the collectivity to the liberty of maturity, it is a basic human right that must be carefully p~eserved. For the Christian it is also the entrance into that most sacred and secret .region of the person--his interiority--where union with God takes place. As St. Augustine loves to repeat, God is in the most intimate part of us. He is more truly within us than we are. Even after one has experienced enough solitude to develop into a mature person, periods of it will continue to be necessary, during which one's self-possession may be renewed. Otherwise a gradual self-alienation can set in that will prevent the individual from entering into deep and lasting communion with others and will allow him or her to sink into the negative solitude of isola-tion. Positive and voluntary solitude is a good way to prevent negative solitude. Such periods of solitude should not be used to sleep or simply rest in, but to feel out one's roots actively and become more one's true self before God. Only by doing this will the individual again become fit for fruitful rela-tions with others. There is al~;ays a danger however that we will turn solitude into an ab-solute, and be tempted to stay there. This would not be right, for God calls very few to follow in Abbot Paphnutius' footsteps. Too many buffalos would upset the Church's spiritual ecology. The ideal in most Christian lives will always be a happy balance betw~ei~ solitude and s6ciety, as Jesus himself lived The Right to Solitude / 357' it. To stay longer in solitude than God wills can lead to spiritual sterility. But after all the danger of overstaying one's time in solitude is not great. For, as many who have attempted hermitical life during the last thirty years have discovered, if the solitude is real, it will become unbearable for someone who does not belong there. As one of the Desert Fathers remarked: "The desert vomits out those whom God has not called into it." Covenanl The Father knocks at my door seeking a home for his son: Rent is cheap, 1 say. I don't want to rent. I want to buy, says God. I'm not sure 1 want to sell, but you might come in to look around. 1 think 1 will, says God. I might let you have a room or two. 1 like it, says God. 1'11 take the two. You might decide to give me more some day. 1 can wait, says God. I'd like to give you more, but it's a bit difficult. I need some space for me. I know, says God, but I'll wait. I like what 1 see. Hm, maybe 1 can let you have another room. 1 really don't need that much. Thanks, says God. 1'11 take it. I like what 1 see. I'd like to give you the whole house but I'm not sure-- Think on it~ says' God. 1 wouldn't put you out. Your house would be mine and my son would live in it. You'd have more space than you'd ever had before. 1 don't understand at all. I know, says God, but 1 can't tell you about that. You'll have to discover it for yourself. That can only happen if you let him have the whole house. A bit risky, 1 say. Yes, says God, but try me. I'm not sure-- 1'11 let you know. I can wait, says God. 1 like what I see. Margaret Halaska, osf On Being a Superior Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Father Meenan resides in the Jesuit community of 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Though it may seem strange, .I would like to begin a treatment of the role of the superior by reflecting for a bit on the phrase we so often use, "Thy will be done." When prayed, as in the Our Father, does it make any sense at all, when you think about it? Is there, for instance, some ,super-God" to whom the prayer is addressed, asking that he take care of God so that he makes sure that God's will gets done? Or maybe God doesn't know what his will is, so we pray, "Hope you find out." Perhaps God is in a struggle, so that our prayer is equivalently, "Hope you win!" In other words, this phrase doesn't make much sense--if you just take it at its face value. But I think that the phrase does begin to make sense when ! begin to realize that, in using those words in prayer, I've taken a stand. Whether I join my will to his in prayer or not, his will is simply going to be done. What I am saying when I use those words is, "I want his will to be done. I 'want in' on the whole process. I want to be involved." And so there is a commitment of myself to the project when I say, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done." Then the prayer begins to make sense because it takes me from the luxury of being a bystander and puts me right in the middle of things. It begins to make me hungry that his will be done. And then, in truth, it becomes the prayer of my heart. Then it becomes a real prayer--and a fruitful starting point for a reflection on the role of being superior. The problem is that the words come too easily. The problem is that I have grown up with the words, and I lose track of them, of what they say. The problem is that I have said them too often. I fiave gotten used to them. And so they lose the force they should have: that there is a great project afoot, and I want to be involved in it. And this, basically, is what this article on the role of 358 On Being a Superior / 359 / the superior is going to be about: God's will for the person who is superior in t the exercise of the office of being superior. For purposes of this article, I don't care about the sociology of leadership. I don't care about the psychological dimensions of community. And I certainly don't care about the canonical details of implementing the office. What I do care about is the~spiritual a___.__~sp.e__~c_t 9 fob_ei_.o.ng s__~up.e~r_ior, of getting a feel for the role of being a superior. I care about the conviction that one has in exercising the office of superior. Conviction is going to involve feeling, precisely because one's whole person is involved in the truth of what he is saying when he speaks or acts from conviction. What I would hope to evoke in the course of this article is a conviction, a felt truth, that locates the person, invests the person, identifies the person in what he knows. To this end, I would invite the person who is superior to share with me, through these pages, in a meditation. I.f we are going to make a meditation together, we ought to have a "com-position of place." For this, I have chosen Peter at the lakeside, after the Resurrection, when, according to John's gospel, Christ said to Peter, "Feed my sheep'." Just before this, he had asked Peter, "Do you love me more than these?" Isn't it a shame how cheap we have made the word "love" today? What does it mean to say, "I love you more than these"? The question is important because what is at issue is the building of a life on the love of God. But how do we know if we do love God? Is our confidence in our love go-ing to come out of our feelings? Well, for most of us, God isn't "real" enough for us to have very strong feelings about--except rarely. And probably in those moments, often enough, the individual is deluded. In point of fact, most of the days of my life, I don't feel love for God. How do I know, then, if I love him enough to be able to build a life on love? t/~ I f I love, I will do the work of love. I f love is there, the fruit of love will be there. If I am concerned about the things of the Lord, about him and his kingdom and his service and his glory, then I know I love. I don't care what I feel. I know I love, because the fruits of love are there. Even here, though, the issue is not all that clear, simply because I can also fake the fruits of love. I can ape them. I can do great and good things, noble and glorious things--without love. I can do them just because I am ambitious, or because I hate to leave things untidy and have a neurotic concern for neatness, or because I want to be noticed, or because I have career preferences, or because I have a developed sense of responsibility, or because the easiest way to be invisible is to be merely and conventionally competent since, if there are no problems in my sector, nobody is going to stick his nose into it--and that is what I want t'o be, invisible. What is done for any of these reasons does, I suppose, represent the "works of love," but these works stem out of my love for myself in one fashion or another, not out of my love for God. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 In determining the presence or absence of the love of God, then, it is clear that the intention is going to be very important--not the expressed intention, but the real intention. And the real intention is in the heart and soul, lying under the words I use to express it. The grace of our meditation will be the grace not to be deaf to God's call, but prompt and diligent to do his most holy will. If being superior is a chore, a task for an individual, then that individual is going to fail. If it is not a work of love, then at best he will be merely a good administrator. At best, he will make the canonists happy. But if being a superior is a response to God's call, if there is an eagerness to be prompt and diligent to do his will, then the person will not be the performer of mere tasks: he will be a superior. 'From what has just been written, it is clear that I am convinced that being ¯ superior is a very definable, concrete, explicit vocation from Almighty God to a particular individual. In terms of this call, God says to those whom he sum-mons in this fashion, "Feed my sheep," which is the core reality of the voca-tion of being a superior. You see, being a superior is a vocation, a call from God. It is much more concrete than one's'~all to enter a congregation. It is more clearly defined than one's professional competence. In the present circumstance of the Church, superiors have a definite term: a beginning, a measurable beginning, middle, and end to this concrete call that they have. Their call includes definite areas of responsibility, rather more clear than in the usual run of job descriptions. The superior has a definite flock to be fed. Being a superior, then, is easily discernible. Is it really a call? We religious have a way of using all sorts of pious vocabulary with a great deal of conviction--so long as we are talking about somebody else. We have all attended at one time or another the circumstances of somebody else's tragedy, when it's easy for us to see that tragedy so clearly in terms of God's providence for them and for the victim. But when it comes to ourselves, somehow we find that our faith is rather more brittle. Too often for us religious, it is very easy to isolate "God's providence" into some abstract awareness of God as "Lord of History" because, for example, of what .he did to Israel, what he's done to the Church, what he's doing in the history of the world at the present time. Is God, though, Lord of your life? If he is Lord of yliofue,r then how can you explain the meaning of being superior, if not in terms of his Lordship? Is God faithful and loving? Because, if he is, how are you going to explain being superior save in terms of his faithful, loving exercise of Lordship in your regard? We can see how it gets to be a bit more difficult to be quite so confident of the "providence of God" when it begins to reach closer to home. It is much easier to see him as Lord of others than as Lord of myself. Does God care for the congregation? If he doesn't care for the congrega-tion, then he couldn't care less who was superior. If he does care for the con-d gregation, then he must care very much about who is superior--though this On Being a Superior does not mean at all that he has chosen the best possible person. It doesn't mean that he has chosen the most competent person. It doesn't even mean that he has chosen an able person. It just means that he has chosen a person. He has exer-cised a definite, deliberate choice in wanting you to be a superior of his com-munity for which he cares very much, in regard to which he says toyou, "Feed my sheep." It is time now to return to the reflection with which we begari regarding our earnestness for God's will. How earnest are we for God's will? Not out there, ~not in the future, but here and now. The,fact is that either God is not God at all, or he has call~ed you to b____~e a superior. If he has called you, he has expressed his will. You can choose to ignore it if you--want, but you cannot intelligently deny this fact without denying that God is God. b\ Being a superior is a vocation to do what? To feed his sheep in all the ways that make sense. His.sheep are workers in his vineyard, and the superior's feeding of his sheep is going to include nurturing their capacity to work in his vineyard--to be apostles. His sheep are your sisters or brothers in Christ. These are not vague groups of girls or boys that walk in the front door of an institution. These are your sisters or brothers in Christ, persons who have a call to the community that you say you love. These are the sheep that he has entrusted to you to be nourished by you. If all of this is true, then the only adequate approach to exercising the i office of superior is going to be as an act of religion. The alternative is to ex-clude God from your individual salvation history, the salvation history of your congregation, and the salvation history of the Church and world today. Therefore it follows that the key which unlocks the whole mystery of being a ~ superior is going to be found in the area of acts of religion--which is the same area that includes the taking of your vows in the first place. This is the same area, too, that envelops your whole prayer life. This is in the same area as your whole living for God. If this is true, then the individual is going to want to be a superior after the mind and thought and heart of Christ. His mode of being a superior is going to be the expression of his r~ligious involvement in God's will--or it is nothing. In seeking to make this act of religion real, the superior will make use of many aids to help him. But it is the act of religion that is going to give life to the whole process. So the superior will make use of whatever he can learn from management theory, from the psychology of the human person, from the sociology of community. He will make use of all these because they are tools given into his hands, tools that make it possible for him the better to enflesh into reality the act of religion that is his response to God's call. But if this religious response is not effectively there, if the soul of the pro-cess isn'~ present, all that's left is'a corpse. And no psychologist is ever going to make a corpse come alive. If all a superior does is to oversee the production of a corpse, then he would be better off seeking a position on a middle- 369 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/3 management level of some large corporation and make cars for the rest of his life. At least it would be a safer way of wasting his life; and he would only be touching others merely in their jobs. We religious like to talk a great deal about zeal. If you are serious about zeal, then you have to see in this call from God to be a superior a concrete way of enfleshing your zeal. Otherwise, you are going to be lost in a dreamland, phantasying about future generations of yet unborn souls whom you will "save" some time or other, some place or other. If you were serious about zeal, then you would be very much taken with God's will. If you were serious about his will, and thought that he was calling you, then your zeal would be a hunger to respond to his call, and he has called you to be a superior. In saying to you as superior, "Feed my sheep," he wants you to take unto yourself his sheep, those very special ones whom he has called in a very special way, and who, therefore, need a very special kind of nurtur- ~inagn,d he has sayiodu, You feed themsey sthheeapt, swo hat I have sown in their hearts may come alive." What we commonly see today is a great deal of reluctance on the part of } persons who are unwilling to become superiors for a variety of reasons. ~ From the beglnmng of time, but especially ~n the present age, a man would be out of his mind to want to be a superior. In fact, to want to be a superior is usually a guarantee of failure: not necessarily administrative failure, the failur--"~f-s~perficial effectiveness, but the substantive failure of one who, though called to be of and for Christ's kingdom, may live in exterior darkness, all the while doing great things with brick and mortar--and quite possibly destroying souls for the sake of his mere brick and mortar. So there is fear in the face of taking on such an office, and it is common today. Ther_e ar~t least tw_o~.possible_sources.of_this._~fear. One of them is healthy, eminently healthy, and the other is unhealthy. The healthy fear, I think, comes out of vision. The person who has this healthy fear, for instance, would usually have a fairly clear idea of what the founder wanted in starting the congregation. He has a pretty good idea of the value of a soul, and therefore also has a pretty good idea of the preciousness of each of those special souls called by God to religious life, and whom the superior is supposed to nurture in this vocation. In terms of such a vision, the person would have a very clear and distinct notion of the goal--not of the practicalities, but of priorities and purposes. A person with this kind of vision also recognizes that the vision is of God. And a person with that kind of clarity must see himself as unworthy. So he says, "No, not I. I can't do this." Now there are two t~ings that are healthy about that fear. One is that this sense of unworthiness comes out of self-knowledge of a sort that would arise ~when a person looks at himself against the background of such a vision. With this self-knowledge, in looking at the job, at what the call is, he is aware of his very real impotence; he has a sense of his utter helplessness. The other healthy aspect of such a fear flows precisely from this On Being a Superior / 3{}3 awareness: it is that the individual has a clear and distinct sense of one's need for God in responding to such a vocation. He cannot fulfill such a call, and therefore he would need God. Beingaware of his unworthiness, he has a very healthy desire not to be a superior--until it becomes clear that this call is truly from God. Then, retaining his sense of unworthiness, knowing that God chooses weak things of this world to achieve his purpose, the individual ac-cepts God's call and, in his need, turns to God. Such an individual truly has the spirit_of.a_superior's vocation. . Th~nheal~ the, but more common fear that has become particularly fre-quent" "--~---'---"-'-'during our time in religious life stems, for whatever reason, from a loss of vision, or, alas, from the fact that the individual never had a vision in the first place. When such a person is confronted with the job-requirements, he is often faced with something that is, for him, vague, blurred, unmanageable. He often asks, "What does obedience mean now? What do any of the vows mean now? What does the apostolate mean now? What does the vision of the congregation mean now?" And on, and on, and on. His fear is as blurred as is his sense of vocation itself. Without a vision, such a prospect for the office of superior does not look out to God's vineyard, but into the interior of the community. All he sees when he looks around is conflict, antagonism, varieties of resistance, burdens and crosses--and he wants no part of that kind of crucifixion. So, for his own security and comfort, he is afraid to be a superior. And that kind of fear, if the job is thrust upon him regardless, leads to paralysis, a paralysis that can find a variety of ways of expression. He can be .the do-nothing, the absolutely do-nothing type, who keeps his hands totally off everything except the signing of checks once a month--and this only if the treasurer has succeeded in making an appointment. Or he becomes the type who is only an~administrator. He becomes only the outside contact-person working with benefactors. He becomes only the friend of t

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 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 10.5 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; A.M.D.G. . Renew for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1951. Christian Heroes . J. Pu~z Joy in Heaven . Richard L. Rooney ¯ PassionisHc SpirH'uallty . Fidells Rice Modesty ¯ ¯ ~ . ,~ .~ . C- A. Herbs÷ Grace o~ Our Vocation . P. De Leffer Communion for O~hers . . Clerence McAuliffe A Vocational Newspaper Questions and Answers Book Reviews ,VOLUME X i' =, NUMBER 5' RI:::VI W FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME X SEPTEMBER, 1951 NUMBER GONTENTS CHRISTIAN HEROES-~3. Putzo S.J . 225 Heroism of Everyday Life . 225 The New Saints ¯ " . ZZ9 The New Beati . 235 JOY IN HEAVEN--Richard L. Rooney, S.3 .2.3.9 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY--Fidelis Rice, C.P .2.4.1 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 246 MODESTY--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 247 ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE. RELIGIEUSE .2.5.2. THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION---P. De Letter, S.J .2.5.3 COMMUNICATIONS--A VOCATIONAL NEWSPAPER . 260 OFFERING COMMUNION' FOR OTHERS-~Clarence McAuliffe, S.J. 261 MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS . 265 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 20. Alienation of Property for $100,000 . 266 21. Alienation of Sacred Objects: Relics, Images, Vessels . . . . 266 22. Extreme Unction before Major Operation .268 23. Letters of Golden Jubilarians . 268 24. Novice Master at Coun~i~ Meeting . ¯ " . 268 25. Communion to Ambulatory Sick . 269 26. Hail Mary's on Feast of Annunciation . 270 I'~EW MEDITATION BOOKS . 270 BOOK REVIEWSw Pastor's History of the Popes; The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus; The Gifts of the Holy Ghost . 273 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 276 BOOK NOTICES . 278 TEN YEAR INDEX OF REVIEW--MAYBE . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September. 1951. Vol. X, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation, Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S~ J. Copyright, 1951, by Adam C. Ellis, S,J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price]! 3 dollars a year: 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Befoie writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Christ:ian bleroe It~UR DAYS call for heroic living. The greatness.and diffi: ~ culties of our time are su.cb that no disciple ofo "~hrist.is allowed to remain satisfied with mediocrity." This, saying of Plus XI has often been quoted. The Holy Year was" meant-to stir up Christendom to greater fervor, that it might be an:active, l'eaven for'the much-needed renovation of the world. The numerous beati-fications and canonizations of this last year put beforeus outstandi'ng Christian heroes whose example is meant to stimulate our mediocgity~ Heroism is the test applied by the Church to candidates for .beati-- fication--not a human, stoic heroism, but a heroism inspired by personal love, by charity, and sustained by the Holy Ghost dwellin~ in the soul. At the beginning the typical saint was the ma'rtyr, th.e Christian who had been a witness to Christ by. dying for Him. ,But soon it was realized that, in the absence of persecution.s, there can be an "unbloody martyrdom" by heroic fidelity in liv'ing for Christ, Thus, by the side of martyrs, the names o,~f. outstanding "confes~ors~j came to be added in the martyrology. Heroism always remained the test of genuine sanctity, and the Congregation of Rites, .When studying the cause of'a confessor, has chiefly to discuss the hiroism his virtue. Is there evidence that he possessed in a herbic degree.the theolggical virtues of faith, hope, charity and the cardinal.~ri~tues :of prudence, justice, temperance, fortitude, with the virtues connected with them'? , .' ~ :: " , But what is required for heroic virtue? It is not easy tO dete~ mine thi's notion. Benedict XIV, in his treatise on'the beatification of the servants of God, has given all the elements, but he has:not made the synthesis, and one may say that the notion remained some:~ what indeterminate. This gave rise, 'within the ,Congregatigrl of Rites, to different conceptions of heroic, virtue. This. difference' de-layed the cause of the servant of God, A. Gianelli. The same reason may explain why until this year no child or ado.lescent ever passed the test, for the classical conception insisted 'on "extraordinary,~.' manifestatidns of heroism. There was room for progress 'tow~i'r'ds greater precision and, accor~ding to a recent articl'e by.~a consultor:of 22'5 J. PU~Z Reoieto for Religious the Congregation of Rites, the well-known Carmelite, Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, a distinct progress has been made during recent years. (Cf. Etudes Carmelitaines, 1949, pp. 175-88.~ This progress has not only a juridical importance for the process of beatification; it interest~ ascetical theology as well, since all Chris-tians are called to sanctity, and the type of holiness required by the Church for canonization determines the ideal of Christian perfection after which all must strive. T.he true Christian is the saint, and the saints are the standard by which we must guide and judge ourselves. Our imitation of.them must be based on a precise notion of what sanctity-~heroic virtue--consists in. Aqcording to Father Gabriel, the work of elaboration and deter-mination took place chiefly between 1916 and 1922, under the direct inspiration of Benedict XV. It can be followed in the decrees of the Congregation of Rites published on the occasion of the declara-tion of heroic virtue especially in the decrees concerning A. M. Gianelli (AAS, 1920, pp. 170-4)'and 3. N. Neumann (AAS, 1922, pp. 23-6). As a result, we are told, the Church is now in possession of a concept of heroic virtue more synthetic, less complicated and less abstract, more definite and easier to apply. This notion was clearly expressed in 1916 by Benedict XV, when he declared that "sanctity consists merely in conformity with the divine will, expressed in the constant and exact fulfillment of the duties of one's state." Sanctity, as the decree of April 11, 1920, explains, cannot be judged by an abstract standard. The saints cannot be reduced to one type. Heroism will vary according to each one's temperament, state of life, and other circumstances. It will not always show itself by extraordinary or stupendous deeds. For, as the decree' states, "these require a suitable occasion. But such occasions are rare and do not depend on the will of man; persecutions, for instance, plagues, or earthquakes cannot be produced at will. Hence, if holi-ness consisted in such deeds, it would follow that holiness itself does not depend on the will of man--which is absurd." The heroism to which all Christians can aspire is the exact and constant fulfillment of their concrete daily duties. "Comrounia sed non communiter,'" according to the motto of St. John Berchmans, doing common things but uncommonly well. What makes the saint is not the nature of his actions, whether extraordinary or common, important or insig-nificant; what counts is the intensity of his love that rules and in-spires all his actions. 226 September, 195 ! (]HRISTIAN HEROES Such fidelity implies real heroism, for nothing is more difficult to human nature than constancy. To be moved in everything by the will of God only, without being influenced by the ever-active sensi-bility, the sudden movements of the passions, the sense of fatigue, the ups and downs of one's n~oods.---such constancy supposes that the soul is under the perfect domination of the Holy Ghost and totally oriented towards its last end. Father Gabriel wrote in the same article, "If it were not so, if it were not perfectly purified, if other motives distinct from the love of God were still active (they can all be reduced to self-love, the root of all inordinate love of creatures), .then it would inevitably act more than once under the impulse of these motives and thus deviate from the pure fulfillment of the divine~ will." In such a soul "we admire a human nature tbat has reached a singular harmony and perfection--its spiritual forces keeping the sensible fac~lties in docile submission or completely conquering their resistance, so as to realize to perfection the task prescribed to it by the Lord: the perfect fulfillment of His holy will by a total, constant, ~nd generous fidelity to the daily duty." "Such sublime conduct, kept up over a long period, and without failure, is completely above the powers of human .nature left to itself . It alone suffices for evangelical heroism, for it makes man perfect in the way the heavenly ~Father is perfect." (Quoted by Benedict XIV in his treatise on beatification, III, c. 21, n. 10.) ! "'The heroism of the ordinary life has officially received a place by the side of the classical extraordinary heroism," wrote D. Pietro Brocardo. (Cf. Satesianum, 1950, p. 197.) Benedict XV's suc-cessor, the Pope who stressed the universal call of Christians to sanc-i. ,t~ty, often expounded this conception. Sanctity, according to Plus ~KI, is not something "exceptional," it is but the Christian life lived fully and intensely according to each one's vocation. Sanctity is but ~he fullest and richest expression of Christian life. It is the divine perfection proposed to all, from the humblest believer to the gigantic ~gures of hagiography. If not all are called to the same height of ~anctity, yet all are called to sanctity. His most famous pronounce-ment on this topic is his allocution published in Osservatore Romano, ~Jan. 6, 1928, on "the terrible everyday duty," given after the reading bf the decree of the heroic virtue of Brother Benildus, a humble leacher who had spent his whole life in elementary schoo.ls: "A humble servant of God, whose whole life was all modesty hnd silence, all very commonplace and very 'everyday.' But in such 227 Reoiew for Religious an. everyday- life how much there is that is not common! This everyday, always the same, with the same occupations, the same ~;eakness~s, the same miseries, has rightly been called 'the terrible ev'e'ryda3f:' How much strength is required to stand up to this ter-rible, this crushing, this monotonous, this asphyxiating everyday! An. un'c6mmon irirtue is very necessary to perform--not with an all too'° frequent negligence and superficiality but with attention and inner fe'rvbr of spirit--that series of common actions which fill our e'4ceryday life'. 0' "Holy Church is never a more equitable judge and a wi~er teacher of bdlinesk than when she honors these humble lights, so often unnoticed even by those who had the good fortun~ tosee them shine finder their i'er~, eyes. Extraordinary things, great events, magnifi-cei~ t enterprises arouse the noblest instincts: in the commonplace, on the:contrary, that is, in the flat and obscure everyday task, there is nothing exciting or fascin.ating. Yet this is the stuff the life of most men' is made of. How often do extraordinary circumstances present therfiselves in a lifetime? They are very rare, and woe to us if sanc-tity were reserved to extraordinary circumstances! What would the greater part of'~nankind do? For it is certain that all without dis-tinction are called to sanctity." " B'roth~r B~nil~tus was beatified twenty years later, on April 4, 1948. On that occasion Plus XII, too, spoke of the heroism of the ordinary life. Benildus was neither a founder, nor a mystic, nor a miracle-worker; h~.was a,~simple schoolmaster. His only claim to the honors' of the YChurch was his fidelity to duty--to his rules and the daily grind of the school. But such constant fidelity to the details of his di~ty, his radiant charity, his serenity in difficulties could only flow. frorrl a'ddep[and vigorous interior life and habitual union with Goal. ' :. ¯ During th~ Holy Year a variety of saints have been' beatified or e~rmn~zed." Maria Goretti w~s only eleven when she died, but she Was canonized as a martyr. Yet, even this extraordinary form of htroisrd;, the Pope pointed out, presupposes the "ordinary" heroism of the'daily life. Among the new beati is the first adolescent ever t'gised to the altars, Dominic Savio. So far, the youngest confessor ~fioni~ed is S~."Stanislaus; but he was a young man of eighteen ~nd, besides bein~ a religious, his life was out of the ordina.ry, Dominic died before he was fifteen, and his life was the very ordinary s~hool-b'oy life. The criterion of heroic virtue exposed by Father Gabriel 228 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES ,seems to havi~ made it possible for children and adolescerits to pass the test required for tl~e supreme honors of the Church. The eight saints canonized during the Holy Year of 1950 brought "the total number canonized by Plus XII tO twenty-two. Saints Emily de Rodat and Maria Goretti were also beatified by the present Holy Father. Among the canonized we find seven confessors and one martyr; one bishop, one priest-founder of a religious insti-tute, three foundresses of religious congregations, and three who attained sanctity "in the world": a middle-aged woman, a young woman, and a girl. Four are Italian, two French, one Spanish, and one from Latin America. Five belong to the nineteenth century, while the fifteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries each claim one. St. Jeanne de Valois (1464-1504) Jeanne de Valois, daughter, sister, and wife of kings, seemed to be so high-placed only to be the more cruelly humiliated and cast away. Her birth was a bitter disappointment for King Louis XI who already had a daughter and wanted a son who could succeed him. Misshapen by nature, she was sent away from the court and brought up by strangers. When still a child, she was bound by a political marriage to the young Duke of Orleans who detested her and who, when twenty years later he l~ecame King Louis XII, had his marriage annulled, makin,g of the rejected queen an object of public ridicule. But the greater her disgrace in the eyes of the world, the more clearly stands out her moral nobility and spiritual greatness. The "royal Cinderella," as she has been called, showed no bitterness, no morbid self-pity; she accepted everything with sincere humility, deep love for God and for men (including her husband for whom she never ceased praying and who became one of the best-loved kings of France), and whole-hearted application to the work God had given her. The king, on sending her away, made over to her the duchy of Berry, and during the six remaining years of her life she resided at Bourges, her capital, administering the duchy with such success that she earned from her pebple the title of "the Good Duchess."A'mid 229 J. PUTZ Review [or Religious the splendor of her court she secretly practiced" the most rigorous penances. In 1500 she realized a long-cherished project, the founda-tion of an order'of the Blessed Virgin, the Annqnciade. Its members were to take as their means of sanctification the imitation, the repro-duction of M~ry, by practicing, her "Ten Virtues" as found in the Gospel. She herself, though continuing to rule the duchy, made her religious profession and wore the habit under her worldly d~ess. She completed her work by founding a Third Order, the "Order of Peace,': whpse members, living in the world, were to work for peace and reconciliation. The Order of the Annonciade flourished for centuries, but was almost destroyed by the French Revolution. At ' present it has a half dozen bouses in Belgium, France, and England. When Joan died in her fortieth year she was immediately venerated as a saint. Her cult grew, miracles multiplied, but she was not formally beatified until 1742. Pius XII solemnlY proclaimed her a saint on May 28. In his homily the Holy Father stressed the saint's work for the promotion of peace; in heaven, he said, she continues to pray for the extinction of hate and for fraternal concord, so that the nations may form one great family, striving with united for~es to ensure prosperity and peace for all. On the following day, in an address to the numer-ous French pilgrims, he described the spirituM characteristics of the saint--spirit of faith, devotion to the Mother of Jesus ("an infallible test of the true. Christian"), union with Jesus in suffering--and gave her as an example tO French Catholics, particularly to the women of France "on'whom in the present crisis devolves a mission 9f supreme importance." SI. Mary Ann of Jesus (1618-1645) Born in Quito, Ecuador, of Spanish parents, this Saint of Latin America--"the Lily of Quito"--showed a precocious attraction for the things of the spirit. She took the three vows at ten and lived the live of a solitary in a room of her sister's wealthy home,.leaving it only to go to church and to visit the poor and sick. She practiced heroic austerities and was favored with sublime prayer. In 16~}5, when Quito was visited by earthquakes and a deadly plague, she publicly offered herself as a victim for the sins of the people. The skourge abated, but she was seized with a malady-which put an end to her short but intense life. She was only twenty-six. 230 September, 1~51 CHRISTIAN HEROES She was beatified by Plus IX in 1853. In 1946 "the Parliament of Ecuador declared her a "national heroine." Her canonizatiorl, the last of the Holy Year, took place on July 9.In his homily the Holy Father stressed three aspects, of her life: (1) immaculate purity; (2) ardent charity, which she practiced towards every misery, spir-itual and material: when she was powerless to help, she tried to obtain help from God by prayer, expiation, the offering of her life; (3) extraordinary austerity, inspired by the desire to expiate the sins of men. She offered herself as a~victim for the salvation of others. This question of mortification needs special stres.sing in the mod-ern world, the Pope said. "Not all, especially nowadays, understand this kind of penance; not all esteem it as they should. Many of our contemporaries despise it or neglect it. Yet we should know that for our fallen nature penance is absolutely necessa.ry. Unless y.ou do pena.nce you will all perish. Indeed, nothing heli3s more efficaciously to conquer our passions and to subject our natural instincts to the control of reason. And when we have won a victory over ourselves it is sweet to exp'erience a divine joy which surpasses' al'l earthly pleasures." In his allocution to pilgrims the following day, the Pope re-marked that we "who. live in the full light of the deyotion of the Sacred Heart may well admire the holy intuitions of this innocent victim who, at the beginning of .the seventeenth century, was led to make of reparation the centre of her spirituality." St. Vincent Strambi (1745-1824) St. Vincent Strambi was one of the great bishops and upholders of the Church's independence in the face of totalitfirian rulers. After being ordained a priest in 1767 he was received into the Passionist Congregation by St. Paul of the Cross himself. He was a great preacher of missions and director of souls (among his penitents was the Blessed Anna Maria Taigi) and filled high offices of authority in his order. In 1801 he was, much against his will, appointed bishop of Macerata and Tolentino by Plus VII. He administered his dio-cese with the zeal of another Charles Borromeo. Preoccupied chiefly with the formation of the clergy and the diffusion of religious in-struction, he brought about a religious renewal among priests and laity. When he refused to take the oath of. allegiance to the ustirping regime established by Napoleon he was expelled from his diocese in 231 J. PUTZ Review for Religious 1808 until the fall of the Emperor in 1813. In 1823 he resigned his see and died soon after in Rome, where Pope Leo XII had made him his confidential adviser." In the midst of his intense activity and the vicissitudes "of his life he never relaxed anything in the austerity of his private life. He was beatified, in 1925 and canonized on June 11, 1950. In his homily the Holy Father made an application to the countries where the Church is being oppress, ed by the secular power: "The Church can be attacked, she cannot be conquered . If under the present difficulties--which in some countries seem graver than those referred to above--some souls are disconcerted, wavering, or anxious, they should remember the promises of Jesu~ Christ and try to imitate the invincible fortitude of this saint as well as. his other virtues." St. Anthony Claret (1807-1870) St. Anthony Claret was another great priestly figure of the nine-teenth century. Born at Salient in the north of Spain, he practiced for a tired his father's trade of cloth-weaving, but eventually was able to follow his heart's desire and join the seminary of Vicb. After his ordination in 1835 and a few years of pa.rish work, he conse-crate'd himself with extraordiriary success to ~he preaching of missions and retreats throughout Catalonia. His zeal inspired other priests, and in 1849 he founded the Congregation of MissioriarySons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, commonly kno.wn.as the Claretians. The same year he was sent to Cuba as Archbishop of Santiago, to b~ing about there a much-needed reform: In this post of exceptional diffi-culty he achieved considerable results, though several attempts were made on his life. After seven years he was recalled to Spain to become the confessor of Queen Isabella II. In the revolution of 1868 he was banished from his country. He attended the Vatican Council where he spoke eloquently for the definition of papal infalli-bility. Soon after, .on Oct. 24, 1870, he died in France. Besides preaching some 10,000 sermons, h~ was an ardent apostle of the press. He wrote 120 books and pamphlets (144 volumes), founded religious libraries, and promoted the diffusion of good literature. He was beatified in 1934 and canonized on May 7, 1950. The work of this powerful apostle is carried on by the Cl~iretians who in 1949 celebrated their first centenary. They count at present Over 4,000 members in 24I establishments all over "the world. Their chief work is education, missions and retreats, and the aposfolate of 232 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES the press. In Rome they ~un the Poliglotta Press and edit the Corn-mentarium pro religiosis et missionariis. St. Emily de Radar (1787-1852) .' At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the French Revolu-tion and the long wars that followed it bad accumulated in France and Europe immense miseries, spiritual and material. Then Provi-dence raised up numerous saints who, impressed by the needs of their time, devoted themselves to remedy them. Rarely in the history of the Church do we find so many religious institutes springing up every-where, dedicated to the prac.tice of various v~orks of corporal and spiritual mercy. In this providential reconstruction women had a prominent share, and this explains why among the saints beatified or canonized by Pius XII there ale so many religious foundresses of this period. Emily de Radar was beatified by Plus XII in 1940 and canon-ized by the same on April 23, 1950. Born of an aristocratic family, she was brought up by pious parents but passed through a period of worldly frivolity and religious indifference. Converted during the Holy Year of 1804, she decided to consecrate'her life to the service of God. After trying several religious institutes, her visits to the poor made .her realize the great need for Catholic schools: She immedi-ately set to work: she had found her vocation. With three other young women she opened a school, and thus the Congregation of the Holy Family was started. Today it has over 200 houses in Europe and South America--schools, orphanages, hospitals. The H01y Father, in his homily, stressed the precious services rendered by reli-gious institutes of women: "When we consider the admirable enterprises of this saint, when we remember what her congregation and the other religious institutes --almost innumerable--have accomplished, we cannot but proclaim that the Church and civil society as well owe very much to all these religious women. If we did not have them, if God by His heavenly inspiration did not continually and in every century raise them up, if He did not sustain them by His help, who could fill their place? Let all, then, learn to praise them as they deserve, to help them as they can . And may the religious zealously and strenuously strive to live up to their lofty vocation." Saints Bartolomea Capltanio and Catherine Gerosa (1807-1833) (1784-1847) , Bartolomea Capitanio and Catherine Gerosa founded together 233 the Italian Sisters of Charity, after the model of St. Vincent de Paul's Sisters of Charity. Bartolomea began her apostolate at fourteen, teaching, little children. Soon her simple and strong personality drew to her, as to their mother, the young, the poor and afflicted of her little town of Lovere. Seeing the need to organize the ever-increaging work she joined forces with another saintly worker of the same town, Catherine, who was twenty years her senior and had already opened a hospital for the sick poor. Bartolomea died a few years later, at the early age of twenty-six. Her spiritual notes and instructions, as well as a considerable number of her letters, have been published. She left the young institute to the care of Catherine (who had ~dopted the name of Vincenza), an extremely bumble woman, yet an efficierit worker and able organizer. During the fourteen years she had still to live, the congregation continued to expand 'rapidly Today it counts nearly 9,000 religious in some 500 houses. Barto-lomea' was beatified in 1926; Vincenza in 1933T.hey w~re canon-ized together on May 18, 1950. St. Maria Gorettl (1890-1902) No canonization war received with greater enthusiasm than that of the humble village girl who died for the preservation of her purity The ~tory of her martyrdom is. known to all our readers. Her popu-larity and the speed of her promotion to the highest honors of the Church ha~e been equalled or surpassed in modern times only by the Little Flower of Lisieux. Her cause was introduced in 1938 and concluded in 1945. The solemn beatification took place on April 27, 1947, and she was canonized three years later, on June.-24, 1950, forty-eight years after her death. " (Teresa of Lisieux died on Sept. 30, 1897, was beatified on April 29, 1923, and canonized on May 17, 1925. Aloysius Gonzaga was beatified fourteen years after his death, bu~ another' centu.ry passed before be was canonized.) In spite of her youth, Maria was capable of heroism, and this heroism showed itself also in the pardon accorded to her miarderer on her' deathbed and in. the superhum~t'n patience during the extremely painful operation by which,the doctors tried to save her, withou~ putting her to .sleep,. D.ur!ng those tWO. long., hours Mary never complained but kept invoking the help of the" BlEssed Virgin. For .sush :heroism, the Holy F,a.ther point.e~d 6ut.in his allocution, the 23~, September, 195 I. CHRISTIAN HEROES courageous child had prepared herself by the daiIy practice of the virtues of her state: "It is true that it is above all purity that sho~e in Maria Goretti's martyrdom, but with it. and in it the other Christian virtues tri-umphed as well. In that purity there was the most evident and sig-nificant affirmation of the perfect control of the soul over matter. In that supreme heroism, which cannot be improoised, there was the tender, obedient," and active love for the parents, self-sacrifice in the hard work~of every day, poverty accepted in an evangelical spirit and sustained by trust in Providence, religion embraced tenaciously, deepened ever more, ~ssimilated as a treasure of life and nourished by the flame of prayer; the fervent desire of ~lesus in the Eucharist, and finally--the crown of charity--the heroic pardgn accorded to the murderer. All this forms a rustic garland, so dear to God, of country flowers which adorned the white veil of her First Com-munion and, shortly after, her martyrdom." The beatifications of the Holy Year, like the canonizations were eight in number. The total of those beatified by Pope Plus XII at the end of 19~0 is now'fifty-two; this includes the twenty-nine Chinese martyrs. Among those beatified during the Holy Year we find one priest, one boy, and six foundresses of religious institutes: two Spanish, two Italian, and two French. All except one belong to the nineteenth century. Blessed Vincen~ Pallo~f~ (1795-f850). Vincent Pallotti was the apostle of Rome at a difficult period of histo~-y.-After his ordination and a double doctorate at the Sapienza, he started his apostolate among students and it soon became clear that Rome possessed a holy priest. He was made confessor of Propaganda College, the English College, the Roman Seminary. On all of them his influence was deep. But his preferences were for the poor and the workers; he opened professional and agricultural schools and pro-moted t?ade unions. His zeal embraced the whole world and every" need, spiritual and material. For this "universal" object he founded the Society of the Catholic Apostolate (a society :of" priests and Brothers living in common without public vows, commonly known ,235 J. PUTZ Reoieu~ for Religious as the Pallottines) and the Sisters of the Catholic Apostolate. He took a special interest in the conversion of England and sent to that country some of his best men. He realized, more than a century ago, the immense possibilities and the necessity of the lay apostolate, and Pius XI called him a "pioneer and precursor of Catholic Action." This bold and far-sighted planner was a man of incredible humility, considering himself an obstacle to the progress of the Church and accepting without a word the most cruel humiliations. He always kept his predilection f.0r the poor, giving them even his own clothes. He died of a pleurisy contracted as a consequence of giving his mantle to a destitute man. Today 3,550 Pallottines and 2,900 Sisters of the Catholic Apos-tolate continue the saint's w.ork in many countries. Vincent's beati-fication was the first of the Holy Year; it took place on Jan. 22, exactly 100 years after hi~ death. A few days later the Pope pointed out "this great sacerdotal figure" as an example to parish priests and preachers. His sermons, he said, were always directed to the ur~uro nec.essarium; his confessional was eagerly sought after and surrounded with extraordinary effects of grace, "May his spirit be renewed in every one of you and infuse into your apostolate that .irresistible glow of love which the doubting, uncertain, and suffering men of today need so much." Blessed Marla-Soledad Torres y Acosta (1826-1887) Maria started her apostolate of charity in a squalid quarter of Madrid. With her h'elp the parish priest opened a hospital for. the ¯ poor. Eventually she had to take charge of the whole work, which she stabilized and perpetuated by founding a religious congregation, the Servants of Mary. Her institute during her lifetime spread from Spain to South America. At present it counts some 1,600 members. She was beatified on Feb. 5, 1930. Blessed Vincenta-Maria Lopez y Vicuna (1847-1890) Vincenta was born of an aristocratic Spanish family. Sent to Madrid for her higher education, she became interested there in the charitable Work of her aunt who, shocked by the difficulties and dangers of the lives of domestic servants, had opened a home for them. Vincenta refused a brilliant match arranged by her father and 236 Se'ptembe¢, 19:51 CHRISTIAN HEROES took the vow of chastity. After her father's death she used her con-siderable fortune.to develop her work of social assistance. To further extend it she founded the Daughters of Mary Immaculate for the protection of young women. At'present they number, nearly 2,000 members in various countries. Their hostels for domestic servants, working-girls or students provide for the material and spiritual wel-fare of well over 30,000 young women. She was beatified on Feb. 19, 1950. Blessed Paola-Elizabeth Cerloli. (1816-1865) Like Vinc~nta she was bor~ of a noble family in Northern Italy. But at nineteen, not feeling called to the religious life, she followed the wish of her parents and married an old widower,Count Buzecchi, forty years her senior. After the death of her husband and three children she was then tl~irty-eight--she consecrated her time and income tO assisting the poor peasants and farmhands of the sur-rounding country. In 1857 she started a religious community, the Sisters of the Holy Family of Bergamo, for the care of orphans and morally abandoned children. In 1950 this institute counted some 300 members. The saint was also instrumental in founding a simi-lar institute for men, the Priests of' the Holy Family. The brief of canonization compares her with St. Joan de Chantal, an angel in four states of life, girl, wife, widow, and religious. She was beatified on March .19, 1950. Blessed Maria ~e Mattias (1805-1866) Maria was born in the diocese of Gaeta. When she was seven-teen, she attended a mission preached by the Blessed Gaspar del Bufalo, a friend of Blessed Vincent Pallotti and founder of the Mis-sionaries of the Most,Precious Blood. The holy preacher to whom she opened'her soul recognized her great gifts and entouraged her to take up the apostolate of Christian education. She began by gath-ering the little children in her parental home, and in 1834 she founded.a convent and a school. This was the beginning of the in-stitute of the "Adoratrici" of the Most Precious Blood, which today has 215 houses in Italy and 172 in other parts of the world, with some 2,000 members. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Anne-Marie Javouhey (1779-1851) The child of a farmer of Burgundy, she grew up amid the horrors 237 J., PUTZ Reaie~a [or Religious of the French Revolution, sometimes risking her life. in order to hide and assist priests. At nineteen she vowed perpetual Chastity and re-solved to dedicate her life to the education of children and the care of the sick. As other girls joined her in the work she c~nceived the plan of her new congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph, called "of Cluny" from the place of the mother house. Soon she made founda-tions in mission countries, Africa, Pondicherry, French Guiana, and others. A woman of remarkable energy and intrepid enterprise' (King Louis Philippe said admiringly, "Madame Javouhey, that's a great man"), she frequently visited her missions, worked for the abo-lition of slavery and for the organization of public services in the colonies. From the start she realized the necessity of forming an indigenous clergy, and in order to accelerate the work she brought to France the first Negro candidates for the priesthood. Today the Sisters of St. Joseph are found in every part 'of the world, working in schools, hospitals, leper asylums, and other institutions. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Marguerite Bourgeo~ys (1620-1700) This blessed takes us back to the seventeenth century and to the great period of ~he Canadian missions. John de Brebeuf was mar-tyred in 1649. The Ursuline missionary-contemplative Marie de l'Incarnation died in Quebec in 1672. Margaret, who had first tried the contemplative life with the Carmelites and the Poor Clares in her native France, found bet vocation when .the Governor of Montreal came to France and tried to find a teacher for the children of the French garrison of Ville-Marie. She offered her services and in 1653 reached Montreal, where she .began bet apostolate by teaching the catechism and visiting the sick in their huts. In 1658, with some companions whom she bad brought out from France the previous year, she founded the congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, which became an important educational factor for the whole of Canada and. since 1860, for the United States (at present 5,680 members). Margaret, "schoolmistress and itinerant mis~iorlary,;' opened mission schools ff;r Indian girls, many of whom became zealous Sisters in the institute. Thus, as the Pope remarked in his address to Canadian pilgrims, she realized among the "savage" Huron girls what St. Francis de Sales had dreamt of for France, a congrega-tion of non-cloistered "secular daughters." She was beatified on November 12, 1950. 238 September, 1951 JOY IN HEAVEN Blessed Dominic Savlo (1842-1857) Blessed Dominic, beatified on March 5, is the Benjamin of the confessors raised to the altars, since he was not quite fifteen when he died, The son of a modest but deeply Christian family, he very early showed a special earnestness and resoluteness in his piety. His First Communion, which he made at seven, .definitely set his will towards the goal of sanctity. In 1854 be was received by Don Bosco into the oratorio of Turin. Here~ under the saint's direction, and fos-tered by special graces, his spiritual life developed rapidly; but after two ~,ears a sickness obliged him to return to his home, where he died a few months later. His life was written by Don Bosco him-self. The decree declaring the heroism of his virtues was published in 1933. The beatification of this youthful masterpiece of divine grace--grace to which he corresponded heroically--will no doubt encourage new studies on the nature of sanctity and .especially of children's sancti~j'. [EDITORS' NOTE: The foregoing article is reprinted with permissi'on from The Clergy Montfily, a magazine published in India.] Joy in I-le ven Richard L. Roone}', S.J. "I,"HE Archangel in charge of the recording angels had called a | meeting of the guardians of religious. They were met in his skyey office high above the battlements of heaven. "Quite frankly, Angels, my aide~ are alarmed about this whole business," he was telling them. "The number of 'kicks,' complaints, criticisms and 'crabs' that l)hey have to record for religious is prepos-terous. They're even wondering if these human creatures will be satisfied and happy and content even here in heaven! They have found one hope, however. They feel sure that Purgatory will take all the 'kick' out of these kickers. You Gufirdian Angels do a grand job keeping your charges living up to their vows and observing the larger phases of religious life. It is time, nevertheless, that you went to work on this complaining business. It may relieve their human ,239 RICHARD L. ROO~EY feelings to 'crab' 6r to criticize. It doesn't add to God's glory or to their own merit however. So please, now, to business." The guardians, your own among them, filed out of' .the office and winged earthward. They came, each of them equipped with ques-tionnaires like the following. How would you answer them if your Angel Guardian put one before you during your next examen? 1. Do you find yourself complaining quite often? 2. What (or who!) is your p, et peeve? 3. Do you "kick" about the weather, the c~ll or the room you have, the house you are'in, the food you are. served, the work you have been assigned? 4. Do you ever "crab" about superiors or their directions? 5. Have you a few kindred souls with whom you get together to talk over the way things would be done if you were in charge of them ? 6. Do you firm., and vocalize about it. that the community is a pretty dull, or annoying lot? 7. Are you heaping up a pretty severe judgment for yourself by judging others . . . and that right severely? 81 There is a lot of sense in the little poem: Two men looked through prison bars; One saw mud, the other sad2 stars. Well, what do you see in the rest of us most of the time? 9. Do you accept the ordinary pin-pricks of daily religious life without grumbling? (Remember you are an especially selected member of a thorn-crowned Head.) i0. Can you put all of ydur words and remarks, both within the community and to externs, on the paten of tomorrow's Mass and know that they will be acceptable to God? After scanning the above you may find that it will be a good thing to take your particular examen off such undisturbingly im-practical generalities as humility or charity at large and particularize it at least on keeping a strict guard over your "kicking" tongue. If so, go to it! The best of success to you! Know that you will be a delight not only tO your. fellow religious but to the saints and angels and God Himself as well! 240" Passionist:ic Spiri!:uali!:y' Fidelis Rice, C.P. IN THE INFINITE 'reaches of eternity, within the secret council of the Godhead, the Wisdom and Love of God decreed that all of creation should reflect in.a unique way the ineffable perfections of God. Because God is absolutely infinite--that is, without any limits whatever--no creature could ever exhaust the divine imitabil-ity. Since the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Word, is the Exemplar of all that is, iherefore each creature is called upon in its own distinct way to teA1 us a little more. about the vastness, the goodness, and the perfection of the Word. "All things were madd by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made." In the realm 6f souls our reflection of the divine holiness is to be accomplished by a participation in the Christ-Life. For each soul is predestined from all eternity to manifest in time the eternal Holiness which is God. There is a uniqueness, then, in the destiny of each soul. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who" has blessed us with spirftual blessings in heavenly places, in Christ. As He chose us in Him, before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight, in charity." (Ephesians, 1:3, 4.) Here the great Apostle reveals to us that our holiness is planned and designed in eternity, but according to the pattern of Christ. We are all called to mirror the holiness of the Word, but each soul in a different way. There is, then, a wondrous blending of unity and multiplicity in the pattern of holiness. Christ is one, the unique model of all holiness. But because of the limitations of our nature, because of our very creaturehood, each one of us will reflect the holiness of Our Lord in a so.mewhat different way, just as various artists in painting the same subject will use a varying contrast, a difference of light and shadow, greater or less use of chiaroscuro, until the completed can-vases, while basically the same, will manifest vast differences. ¯ So it is that in the various religious orders and societies, approved by the Church, there is a difference of pattern in the design for holi-ness, although, all are dedicated to the one supreme objective--the perfect imitation of Christ. The essential spirit of each religious order is imparted, first of 241 FIDELIS RICE Retaieto for Religious all, by the founder of the institute. Plus XI clearly states that the various founders of religious institute~ were guided in a special way by the Holy Spirit, who seeks alway,s to communicate to the Mysti-cal Body.of Christ the graces purchased by His precious death upon the cross. "For what else did these most illustrious men do in founding their institutes, but obey the inspirations of God? There-fore, let their followers show forth in themselves those characteristic traits which the Founders imprinted upon their several Institutes. Let them not fail in this." ("Unigenitus"; A.A.S., Vol. XVI, p. 133.) The key, therefore, to essential Passionistic spirituality is to ,be found in the life and work of Saint Paul of the Cross, and Passion-ists can be called "Passionists" only insofar as they adhere to his teachings and to his spirit. ° It was the unique genius of Paul of the Cross to combine in one Rule the best features of two apparently contradictory or opposing states of life. For he willed that his religious should cherish and foster the contemplative observance of choir monks, centering all in the liturgical, prayer of the Office, while at the same time fulfilling the sublime vocation of a missionary apostolate. In the mind of Paul of the Cross, missionary activity should flow spontaneously, from the life of prayer, thus verifying the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas that the function of the apostolate is "tradere contemplata aliis"--"to'give to others the fruits of contemplation." Because the consuming passion of the life of St." Paul of the Cross was love for the sufferings of 2esus Christ, he wanted his religious to share, in a special way, in the redemptive sacrifice of Christ. That is, the Passionist vocation is in a special way a vocation to a life of reparation. The inmost spirit of the Passionist Rule is the spirit of solitude, penanee, poverty, and prayer. In unforgettable language Saint Paul of the Cross described the spirit of his institute in a cir-cular letter which he sent to his religious for the Feast of Pentecost, May 2nd., 1750. "Most beloved Sons, you are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. Therefore, as dead to all that is not °God, r~main in the most perfect detachment from all created things, in true poverty of spirit, and in detachment from sensible consola-tions. Assisted by the most holy grace of ,lesus, direct all your zeal to this end--to be recollected in interior solitude; then you will become true adorers of the Sovereign Good in spirit and in truth . Never withdraw from the holy Wounds of Christ, but ever strive 242 September, 1951 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY more and more that your souls become hidden in and entirely pene-trated by them." (Letters: Vol. IV, p. 226.) Saint Paul of the Cross was one of the most privileged of mys-tical souls with which God has endowed the Church, but his very mysticism bore the unique character of his vocation. For although he received the grace of the "transforming union" or "mystical mar-riage"-- the highest grace of mystical prayer--at a very early age, yet for over fifty years thereafter he continued in the profound suf-ferings of the Dark Night of the Soul, a fact which Father Garrigou7 Lagrange, O.P., calls almost unique in the lives of the saints. Because Paul of the Cross was a master of prayer, it is not to be wondered at that he should insist upon a spirit of constant prayer. for his followers. In his Rule .he states in the very first chapter that "Prayer is one of the chief objects of our Congregation." The Passionist Rule, as it is observed in our monasteries in the United States today, prescribes, beside the Divine Office, two hours of mental prayer each day--an hour in the morning, and an hour in the eve-ning. Including the time that is devoted to the Divine Office; the Passionist, in the daily routine of his monastic day, spends close' to five hours in prgyer. One of the features of Passionistic prayer is the observance of the night office, for Passionists rise ea, ch morning at two o'clock to chant Matins and Lauds before the Blessed Sacrament. This observ-ance lasts one hour, and the religious retire again at three, to rise once more at dawn for Prime and Tierce. This nocturnal observance is one of the cherished ~xercises of the penitential spirit bequeathed by Saint Paul of the Cross to his sons. In order that the spirit of prayer might always be preserved in the Congregation, Saint Paul prescribed most riggrously that Pas-sionist monasteries be built always in places of solitude, and with every safeguard that the spirit of solitude be not violated nor intruded upon. Hence, even when built in the heart of large cities, there must always be sufficient acreage for gardens and privacy for the solitary walks prescribed by rule. Many of our 'American "monasteries are now surrounded by teeming residential sections, but when they were built they stood alone, in the midst of solitude. The cities have come to the monasteries, but because of the wise prescriptions of the Rtile the spirit of solitude is still safeguarded. However, the spirit Of the Passionist Congregation is also a spirit of apostolic activity. As the present Superior General, Most Rev- 243 FIDELIS RICE Review for Religious erend Albert Deane, C.P., wrote in a recent circular letter to the Con-gregatio, n: "On the day it would cultivate the contemplative life ex-clusively, the Congregation would cease to be what 'our Holy Founder instituted. Nor could he be said to be a good Passionist, who without legitimate cause would'omit to do what he could to attain the apostolic end of our Congregation, although under the p.retext of better caring for his own salvation. His religious profes-sion demands otherwise of him." In this ~ame document, our Most Reverend Father General has beautifully epitomized the heart of the Passionistic spirituality: "For our spirit, dearest Sons, can be likened to a'pyramid, made of the spirit of prayer, penance, and the apostolate, but held together by the fire of devotion to Christ suffering, having no other apex to which the ~exalted Passionist life converges than our configuration to Christ Crucified, whom we must preach by word and by example: 'We preach Christ and Him Crucified.' This is what the words say which we carry engraven over our hearts; this reminds us, if perhaps we sometimes forget, of our very name itself, for we are popularly called 'Passionists'.',' . The primary work of the Passionist Congregation, then, is a reflection of its inner'spirituality--the preaching of popular mis-sions, and retreats to the clergy and religious, as well as to the laity. Passionists conduct no schools, except for the education i~f their own subjects. They engage in parish work only as an exception, and for clearly defined needs in a particular locality. They are above all, preachers of the Passion of 3esus Christ. To this end they take a special vow to promote in the hearts of others, devotion to the Pas-sion of oresus Christ. They do, however, engage in foreign mission work, and they are likewise working among the colored in the South. Saint Paul of the Cross was a staunch advocate of enclosed re-treats for the laity. Cherishing, as he did, the wonderful advan-tages of holy solitude, it is not surprising that he would wish to share these advantages and blessings with the laity. And so he wrote into his Rule the prescription that in each monastery rooms should be provided for lay retreatants. In most of our American monasteries we have special retreat houses for men, and a flourishing retreat movement is an integral part of our Passionist family life. Because Paul of the Cross was consumed by the love of Jesus Christ Crucified, he burned with the desire to bring the riches of His death to the souls of men. He was profoundly aware of the 244 September, 1951~ . PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY meaning of the priestly vocation, and realized fully that a p~iest must always communicate to the Mystical Body 6f Christ the life purchased by the sufferings of Ouk Lord. But he knew, too, that the most fruitful apostolate is that which is the overflow of prayer, rather than a substitute for it. Hence it was that no matter how gifted a missionary might be, no matter how eloquent on the mission-platform, and no matter how great the demand for his services, Saint Paul of the Cross rig- . orously required that each missionary spend a suitable portion of.the year in the solitude and quiet of the monastery. Although far wise to reduce this to a mathematical formula, the founder of the Passionists imposed upon superiors and missionaries alike the obli-gation to. preserve always in the Congregation this time of with-drawal each year from the exhausting round of activity. The demands for our services have grown with the years, and no fixed calend,a'r tan be drawn up which governs the exact details, but our superiors still strive faithfully and sincere!y to arrange the schedule for-each mis-sionary, so that he may spend a sufficient amount of time.withih the mona.stery each year. Saint Paul of the Cross was profoundly con-vinced that "one Religious who is a. man of prayer and lover of solitude will bring forth more spiritual fruit from the ministry than a thousand others who are not such." (Letters, Vol. III, 418.) .,. The Passlonlst family circle is made up of three groups: tl~e priests, the students or clerics, "and the lay brothers. ¯ In most of our American monasteries all three groups are found, for most of our monasteries are also houses of study, or seminaries in which young men are preparing for the priesthood. Our lay brothers, a shitable time after the profession of their perpetual vows, are admitted to }ecreation with the priests; and the recreation is common ~f(;r these two groups. The students remain always in a separate r~creation. The day's horarium.is divided bet.ween prayer and study. The day is spent in silence, except for the two brief recreation periods each day. Three days of fast and abstinence are .observed each week-- Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. During the entire time of Ad-vent and Lent, Sundays included, abstinence from meat is the rule within the monastery. Paul 6f the Cross does not want his sons to forget that t,hey must bd men of penance. For this reason, too, san-dals are worn on the bare feet, and a ro.ugh woolen h.abit is worn the year round. The Passionistic ideal;" then, is to share as intimately as possible 245 FIDELIS RICE. o in the sublime virtues which shone, forth so re~splendently on Cal-vary. It is the vocation proclaimed so sublimely by Saint Paul the Apostle in his Epistle to the Colossians: "Who now rejoice in my sufferings foF you, and fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ in my flesh, for His body, which is the Church." (Colossians, 1:25.) So it was that that other P~ul, Paul of the Cross, sought to instill into his followers a burning love for the Crucified, a love which would make them conform their own lives by penance, solitude, prayer, and poverty, to the ideals of Calvary, that they might go forth to preach the glories and the ignominies of the Cross of Jesus Christ. The r~assionist spirit might be summed up in one word, "Stau-rosophy," for "stauros" is the Greek word for the Cross.; ,The sons of Paul o'f the Cross must remain ever absorbed by the wisdom or the "philc~sophy" of the Cross. Wisely has the Church selected the Introit for the Mass on the Feast of St. Paul of the Cross: "Christ0 confixus sum cruci." . "With Christ I am nailed to the cross." (Ga-latians, 2:19.) No other words of Sacred Scripture could epitomize more simply the ess.dntial spirit of this great lover of the Crucified, and of the form of life which he has bequeathed to his sons, who wear that habit of mourning first shown to Paul of the Cross in vision, by the Mother of God, when she told him to founc~ an order whose members would devote their lives to mourning for the sor-rows of Her Son. OUR CONTRIBUTORS F1DELIS RICE, writer and missionary, is on the mission band at St. Joseph's Passionist Monastery, Baltimore, Maryland. J. PUTZ, the editor Of Clergg Month-lg and author of Mg Mass, and P.DE LETTER, a recent contributor to American ecclesiastical journals, teach at St. Mary's theologate, Kurseong, India¯ RICHARD L. ROONEY is on the Queen's Work staff and editor of Action Now. C.A. HERBST and CLARENCE MCAULIFFE are o£ the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, . , : PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The sul~scripfion pHce of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00"per year for" Domestlc.end ,Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per yeer for all for~icjn subscrip-fio'ns. For further de~'ails please see inside back cover. 246 Modesty C. A. Herbst, S.J. ~4 ~t man's looks betray him: a man of good sense will make him-self known to thee at the first meeting; the clothes he wears, . the smile on his lips, his gait~ will all make thee acquainted with a man's character" (Ecclus. 19:26, 27. Knox version). This' is the Holy Spirit's description of modesty. Following His directive, St. Thomas teIIs us that this virtue is concerned with "the movement and actions of the body; that all of them, those gone through in fun as well as the serious ones, may be decent and proper." (Summa Theologica, 2-2, q. 160, a. 2.) Dress is also included. The cardinal virtue of temperance controls pleasure coming from food, drink, and ' sex, the most difficult things. Modesty, a part of temperance, takes care of the lesser. A subordinate in the hierarchy of authority takes ~in hand the little things. Modesty is therefore not at all the s~me thing' as chastity or purity, as many quite commonly presume, though it may be more or less connected with it. Not one's interior only but one's exti~rior, too, must be con-formed to the .norm of right reason. The easy and evident way for u_s to strive to achieve this is "to imitate Christ. "We must look with the eyes of the soul on that wonderful leader 'beautiful above the sons of men' in the ordinary dress He wore at home . Erect of body and with perfect composure His gait was neither too hurried nor too slow. There was nothing soft or effeminate, not.hiog childish or lackadaisical about Him. Neither could anything gloomy or exasperating be seen in Him, nor was there any assumed gravity. He was not singular nor finicky. His Whole being breathed sweetness, joy, kindness, majesty." (Le Gaudier, De Perfectione Vitae Spirit-ualis, Pars IV, caput xviii.). "Jesus began to do and to teach," first to tellus by His exampl~ how tb act, only later by His words. Our exterior modesty should be, as His, for the glory of God. "So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." It should make us more like God. "God cre~ ~ted man to his 6wn image: to the "image of God he created him." Man's likeness to God is, of course, in the soul, in his interior sanc-tity, but that interior dignity and perfection should shine forth, so 247 ¯ C. A. HERBST Reoeiw [or Religiou~ to speak, in the ,modesty of his exterior as through a beautiful and translucent garment, or as the rays of the sun make a cloud all silver and gold. That "image of God" ou.ght somehow to be mani-fested in the body. "Because man's body alone of all the animals on earth is not bowed down to the ground but so made that it can better contemplate the heavens, it can justly be said' that it is made more t6 the image and likeness of God than the bodies of other animals, as Augustine says. But this must not be understood to mean that the image of God is in man's body but that the very form of. the human body represent.s the likeness of God in the soul like a trace." (S. Th., 1, ,q. 93, a. 6.) The importance of modesty in the life of a religious can hardly be overestimated. One is forced to this conclusion from reading the masters of the spiritual life and by noting the Christian tradition through the centuries. The statement made by St. Ambrose in this matter is a classic. "Modesty must be preserved in our very move-ment, carriage, and gait. Our habit of mind is reflected in our body. "Thence the real man hidden away in the heart, the light-headed 6r careless or turbulent man or, on the contrary, the more serious or steady or more upright or more mature man can be ascertained. The motion of the body, therefore, can be called the voice of ~he soul." (De Of Kciis, I, 18.) St. Bernard says: "Modesty is the greatest of orn~ments in reli-gious, especially in the young. This is so true that if they do not cherish it there is little hope of their becoming good or virtuous . Lack of external composure in the body is a sign of an indevout mind." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) Knowing how very closely bod~r and soul are united we are not surprised to hear Hugh of St. Victor say: "As of a wandering mind are born disordered move-ments of the body, so when the body is brought under discipline the soul is made strong. Little'by little the mind within is brought to rest when under the watchful eye of dis.cipline its disorderly move- "ments are not allowed to flow to the exterior." (Delnstttuttone' " " Novitiorum, X.) So exterior modesty m.akes even a greater contri-bution to the soul than it does to the body. St. Vincent Ferrer'thought that a warrior of Christ could never free his soul from disorder if he did not first endeavor to rid his body of what was unseemly. From all of which it would seem to be clear why modesty is so much emph.asized in the beginning of the re!igious life: modesty of action and, incidentally, "modesty of words," which 248 Septernber~ 195 l MODESTY is silence. Even a beginner.can superimpose upon himself external order in the blessed hope that from it will come to him an array of spiritual goods. For it is easier to bring one's exterior under subjec-tion than one's interior. Mqdesty has a great apostolic value. St. Basil says that a virgin should "be seen by those who n~eet her to be such in habit and gait and every movement as to reflect the likeness of God. The eyes of those who behoId her should be incited to modesty and their mind instructed in virtue. They.should hold that sight in honor and, as I have said, show deference to and revere that image of God. As pictures of' satyrs make one laugh and as sad pictures fill the mind , with sorrow . so a virgin, since she is the picture--nay, the very reproduction--of purity, should even if merely seen raise the thoughts of those who behold her up to God . Avirgin, therefore, should be very careful to reproduce in herself the divine image in all t.hings." (Patrologia Graeca, 30, 714-715.) St. Francis of Assisi was most eloquent by his modesty. "It is told ofthe blessed St. Francis that he said one day to his companion, ~'Let us go to preach,' and so went out, took a turn in the city, and returned home. His companion said to him: 'BUt father, are v~e not preaching?' 'We have already preached,' he answered. That sedate-ness and modesty with which they, went through the streets was a very good sermon; it moved people to devotion and to contempt of the world, to compunction for their sins, .and to the raising of their hearts, and desires to the.things of the next world. This is a sermon in action, more effectual than one in w6rd.". (Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, II, x, 1.) The very sight of the young Saints Aloysius, Stanislaus, John Berchmans, and Gabriel of the Sorrowful Mother raised men's hearts to God. The gr.eat in-fluence for good of the pr.ayerfuI, recollected, and modest bearing of those who love God is but another striking instance of "actions speaking louder than words." That is why St. Ignatius said: "And hence it will follow that, considering one another, they will increase in devotion and praise our Lord God, whom every one must strive to acknowledge in another as in His image." (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. i, n, 4.) .The beginner must practice modesty, and by doing so he exer- Cises himself in many virtues. But modesty is also the mark of the perfect. A well-ordered exterior shows great interior'perfectlon. The man who has achieved this has already made great'prggr.ess. One 249 C. A. HER,BST Reveiu~ for Relig:ous who habitually and gracefully has his exterior under control has gone far in the direction of self-mastery. If one has to be mortified to be decent, as our novice master used to say, what constant mortifi-cation and vigilance must be necessary .to put on the modesty of Christ. For this, persevering and almost heroic self-conquest is neces-sary. In this connection it might be well to remark that if we put ourselves through the discipline and took all the pains from a super-natural motive to put on modesty, which is the etiquette of God's ch.ildren, that the children of .the world do to don good manners in public and social life, our merit would i~deed be surpassing great and our spirit of sacrifice supreme. "And they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown; but we an incorruibtible one" .(I Cor. 9:25). But then, "the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light" (Luke 16:8). Founders of religious orders have given special directives, "rules of modesty," for regulating external deportment. As those given by St. Ignatius of Loyola even now influence many thousands of reli-gious, it might be well to give some of them here. "All must be exactly careful to guard the gates of their senses (especially their eyes, their ears, and their tongue) from all disorder, and preserve themselves in peace and true internal humility, showing it in silence when it is to be kept, and when they have to speak, in the circum-spection. and, edification of their words, in the modesty of tbelr coun-tenance, gravity of their gait and whole carriage, without any sign of impatience or prided' (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. 1, n. 4.) "In all out-ward actions there should appear modesty and humility, joined with religious gravity. The bead should not be turned this way and that way lightly, but with gravity, when need shall require; and, if there be no need, it must be held straight, with a little inclination forward, without leaning on either side. For the most part, they should keep their eyes dowfi, neither immoderately lifting them up, nor casting them now one way., now another. Wrinkles on the forehead, and still more on the nose, are to be avoided, that there may appear out-wardly a serenity which may be a token of that which is interior. The whole countenance should show cheerfulness rather than sadness or any less moderate affection. The lips must neither be too much. shut nor too much open. The pace should be moderate, without any notable has,.te, unless necessity should require it; in which case, however, a care of decorum should be had. In fine, every gesture and movement should be such as to give edification to all men." (Rule~ 250 September, .MODESTY or: Modesty.). St. Paul says in another connection: "When I was a child,. I °spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the tlSings of a child" (I Cor. 13: 11).'A child must hear and see and taste and smell and touch every-thing. But when he grows up he is willing to put away the things of a child--nay, is eager to. We can hardly imagine a grown-up going on playing with his toys. A man loses taste for such things. So is one as he becomes spiritually mature gradually weaned away, as he attains to th~ full stature of Christ, from the surface pleasure of the senses and the allurements of sense satisfaction. This is the more true the more he grows to relish the things of God. Then the curious ears and roving eyes and anything unbecoming in the countenance. carriage, and gait of childhood give place to that maturity and serenity proper to men and women at horhe with their Father the King. The practice of modesty is not only for religious propriety, or edification, or mortification, or to foster recollection, or to make pos-sible and encourage spiritual development and high interior activity. It is also to keep, our soul from becoming sick or maimed by venial sin or perhaps even killed by mortal sin. "Death is come .up through our windows" said the prophet (Jer.°9:21). St. Bernard comment~: "Death enters our windows when, with prying eyes and itching ears. we insist upon administering to ourselves the deadly cup of distrac-tion." (Sermo 24 in Cantic.) And St. Ambrose: "Who, midst so many bodily passions, midst so many snares of this world, can go along safe and undefiled? The eye sees: the mind is perverted. The ear bears: our attention is drawn away. We sm~ll something: our thoughts are 9bstructed. The lips drink: sin enters in. We touch" something, and we are inflamed with desire." (De Fuqa Saeculi, cap. 1.) That is why Christ, so mindful of human, weakness, instituted for the very end of life a special sacrament for the removal of the re-mains of sin contracted through seiase experience. At the last anointing the priest places the~holy oil "'on the eyes because of sight, on the ears because of hearing, on the nostrils because of smell, on the mouth bedauseof taste and speech, on the hands because of touch, on the feet because of Walking" (Council of Flore~nce, Decretum pro .Arrnenis) saying: "By this holy anointing and.by His most tender mercy may the Lord forgive you whatever guilt you have con- 251 C. A. HERBST tracted." St. Thomas explains: "This sacrament was instituted to" heal us. For a bodily cure we do not take medicine that will restore the whole body but those parts in which the root of the disease lies~ So the sacramental anointings should be made only on those parts where is found the root of the spiritual sickness." (S. Th., Suppl. q. 32, a. 5.) In conclusion, let us listen.again to a few words from that great master of the spiritual Jife, St. Bernard. "With the brethren be re-served, gracious, modest, affable, gentle, and on your guard. Be .strict with yourself but not in such a way as to be a nuisance to others . Every gesture and word, your way of acting, look, gait should be characterized by modesty and reserve. Let there appear nothing con-ceited or stilted in you, no boldness or anything overbea.ring . As the fear of the Lord puts order into a man's lif~ and prepares his whole interior for blessedness, so modesty brings his exterior under subjection. You should not become so familiar with anyone as to be completely forgetful of propriety in his presence." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) After all, "we are made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men'~ (I.Cor. 4:9). And His Divine Majesty is always pres-ent, too. "In him we live, and move, and are" (Acts 17:28); ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE RELIGIEUSI: The Sisters of Providence (Les Soetirs de la Providence) in Montreal have "trans-lated into French six articles on poverty which appeared in the REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS and published them in a booklet. The articles are: "M~y Religious Buy and Sell" (V, 50) and the "Gifts to Religious" series by Adam C. Ellis, S.J.; and 'The Spirit of Poverty" (VIII, 35) by" Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. The "Gifts" se-ries includes: "The Simple Vow of Poverty" (VI, 65), "Common Life and Pe-culium" (VII, 33), "Personal versus Community Property" (VII, 79, and "Some Practical Cases" (VII, 195). Copies of the booklet, called Etude sur la Pauvret3 2eliqleuse, may be obtained from P~ovidence Mother House, 2311, rue Ste-Cath-erine Est, Montreal 24, P.Q., Canada. Cost: 40 cents per single copy; 35 cents in dozen lots or more. ¯PLEASE NOTE C~AREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per veer for Domestic end Cenedian subscriptions: $3.35 per year for ell foreign subscrip-tions. For further deteils pleese see inside beck cover. 252 The race ot: Our Vocal:ion P. De Letter, S.J. [EDITORS' NOTE: In the March number of this year the author of "Why Do They Leave?" concluded the article with an inspiring section headed "Why Do We Stay?" In the present article Father De Letter's analysis of the grace of our voca-tion forms something of a theological counterpart and complement to the latter question. He points out the different graces included in the grace of vocation, namely, the grace of state, the grace of perseverance, the grace of progress, the grace of keeping the rules, and the grace of supererogation. He next gives the solid theological basis for trust in the grace of vocation and concludes by describing God's part, the actual graces of light" and strength, and ours, the conditions for our 'trust. "I will put great trust in the grace of my vocation," wrote St. John Berch-roans among the first of his watchwords. It is of this gr~ice of vocation that Father De Letter writes.] ~i~/JE 'OFTEN HEAR or read about the grace of our religious W" vocation. No doubt we often thank Our Lord for this most precious 6f His gifts. Wi~at exactly is it? Spiritual au-thors use the phrase in a twofold sense, first as the free divine gift by which God calls to the religious life, and secondly as the special helps of grace which enable religious, who have followed the divine call, to meet the demands of their state and to persevere in it till death. 'The second meaning, that of the special helps, of the grace of our vocation will be used. This grace is a reality of our everyday life.,If we allow it to play its part to the full, it may and does make a difference for our own pe£sonal interests and for the souls for whom we labor. For this reason it is well worth studying more closely what the grace of vocation implies and what is the basis of our trust in it. Then it' will be self-evident how we should exploit this God-sent treasure. Grace of State All religiogs, we are told, are offered and receive the grace proper to their vocation. As any other Christians, those who are called to a definite state of life with its definite purpose are offered by the Lord the graces necessary to pursue ,effectively the end of their vocation. This is true both of the general l~urpose of every religious life, which is to seek after Christian perfectioia.or holiness, and of the specific end of each particular order or congregation. Grdce of" Perseuerance in God's Friendship ¯ First'of all, religious are offered and, unless they'wilfully refuse, ~.ctual!y recei~re the actual graces needed to remain permanently on the path thatleads to perfection, "that is, to persevere in sanctifying grace. 253 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious These graces are needed. Theologians commonly teach that without the help of God's grace no one can maintain himself in His friend-ship, because fallen human nature is weak and inclined to evil. But these graces are always offered, theologians reassure us, to all who sincerely endeavour to 'please God and to preserve His love and friendship. And why? Because God's love is faithful: He does not allow to be sr~atched from His hands those who sinqerely desire to be His. If that is the case for all Christians in the state of grace, then it is more true for those whom a special divine call ~lestines for an ever growing perfection of grace. Religious, therefore, m~y count in a special way, by virtue of their very state in life, on the fidelity of the Giver of all graces. He enables them day after day and hour after hour throughout their religious life to avoid every grievous fault. Grace of Progress There is more than that. It is the fundamental duty of state for religious to advance continually in grace and perfection. That again is not possible without the help of God's grace. Our faith teaches us,. infallibly, that no good work for heaven can be performed with-out God;s gracious help. If that is so, and if religious grow in grace precisely by the works of virtue ' (and the reception of the sa.crame,nts, which grace enables them to do properly), then we must say that their Fathe~ in heaven, who is Love, cannot expect them to do thes~ works and not give them the needed help which He alone can give. That is why religious have and receive the graces necessary for the good works that are to lead them on to perfection, the goal of their vocation. ' Grace of Keeping the Rules and Obeying What are these good works? They are, naturally, commanded by the specific end of each religious institute. Concretely, they are laid down in the rules and constitutions: these outline the particular manner in which a religious vocation is to work out its ideal of Christian perfection, These laws and ways, therefore, differ for different institutes.' Hospital sisters, teaching religious, and contem-platives, are not expected to labour for perfection by exactly the same good works. Their respective rules point out to them "by which paths they are'to draw nearer to God. To follow these pathh ~nd no other, each one in the particular.office that is assigned him by the inst.itu, te and. in the community where obedience placed him, .is pnmista.kably the du.ty of state of. every re, ligious. And so all.~e.li- 254 September, 1~ 1 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION gious are offered each day the necessary grace to keep the rules and-fulfil their office: because fidelity to these duties is the concrete way for them to advance towards perfection and fidelity is not possible without these graces. Not every Christian, theologians teach, is at all times offered the grace needed for good works which are not of precept but are supererogatory, because, there is no clear indication that God's will demands these works from them. Only for such good works as are certainly willed by the Lord may we expect His grace to be guaran-teed. But the case of religious is a special one. Though the good ~works demanded by their rules are not, genera'lly speaking, strictly of precept (not at any rate when the religious laws do not bind under pain of sin) and are therefore in a true sense supererogatory, yet the very nature of religious rule implies that God clearly wills those works. His good pleasure and desire is expressed in the rules. By that very fact He also guarantees to ~eligious the necessary graces, ;¢¢ithout which they would be unable to comply with His good pleasure. , This conclusion applies equally to the acts of virtue which obedi-ence to superiors imposes on religious. Commands of religious supe-riors generally (exception being made for orders given in virtue of holy obedience, in whicJ~ the vows are involved) bring to their sub-jects the same kind of obligatiofi as the rules impose. As such, therefore, they do not bind under sin; yet they express to us unmis-takabl~ y the divine wishes. Religious receive the necessary actual graces for obeying the orders of their superiors as they do for keeping the rules. Though these acts of virtue, because not imposed under sin, are supererogatory in the strict sense of the word, yet they are, for religious, guaranteed as possible by the grace of their vocation. "Grace for Supererogatory Acts of Virtue There are additional virtuous actions which are not demanded of religious by rule nor by orders of superiors, but to which, they believe, a special inspiration of the Hgly Ghost invites them. Such good works, for example, extra .acts of mortification, or prayer, or humility, or kindness, are altogether free in the sense that no rule nor direction of obedience imposes them. These are not immediately covered by the grace of the religious vocation. To them will apply the teaching of theologians about supererogatory good works: not unless the invitation of God's grace be sufficiently proved genuine and ?eliablecan they count on His special help to follow up these inspira- 255 P. DE LETTER Review for Religtous tions. It should be added, however, that religious are, from their very state of. life, more opeh to these special invitations of grace. Why?" Because their fundamental duty of state is to aspire after perfection, and not all particulars that appertain to the practice of perfection are or can be determined by the rules or by obedience. Accordingly, religious need these special inspirations. Other things being equal, there is a greater probability that in the case of religious these inspirations of grace are genuine and reliable. To that extent and in that 'indirect way they also belong to the grace of the voca-tion. At this juncture the task of the spiritual director comes in to provide rehglous with sufficient guarantee that allows them safely to follow up these interior invitations. Without this sanction the danger of self-delusion would be real. That danger is excluded from all that falls within clearly known duty. Herein religious may and must depend on it that grace will not be wanting them, if only they themselves are not wanting to grace. Why is it so? Whai: is the dogmatic and theological basis of our trust in the grace of o.u.r vocation? Doctrinal Basis of Our Trust We have already hinted at the intrinsic reason why the grace of our vocation includes all the particular graces needed to fulfill our duties according to the rules and constitutions and the commands of the superiors. It is the following. God cannot command the impos-sible, because of His infinite wisdom and lo,;,e. Of religious He asks a constant strivin~g after perfection: that is the meaning of the reli-gious vocation. They find the concrete way to strive for perfection detailed in the laws of their institutes and the directions of their supe-riors. But to do all that is involved in keeping the rules and in obeying, many good works are needed which no man, religious not excepted, is able to do without the help of grace.: For two reasonsi both because these virtuous actions require a faithful effort which after original sin is not possible for long without grace; and because these acts are supernatural and of their very nature suppose the super-natural help of grace. If then God expected religious to live up to the demands of their vocation and did not at the s~me time give them ~he necessary graces, He would be demanding the impossible. Dogmatic Foundation The. ultimate foundation of this conclusive proof is nothing less than the highest possible authority on revealed truth: ,the infallible 256' ,September, 1~51 THE GRACE OF O~JR VOCATION teaching of the Church. The Council of Trent defined that it is not impossible for men to keep God's commandments; it condemned the contrary assertion of the Lutherans as heretical doctrine (DB 828). In St. Augustine's words the Council explained how men can, in spite of fallen nature's weakness, have the moral strength to do what God commands: "When He commands, He admonishes you to do what you can and to ask for help to do what you cannot, and He helps so that you can" (DB 804). Later. the Church condemned another heretical proposition of dansenistic pessimism which stated that "just men cannot keep some precepts of God even though they wish and try to do so, with the strength they now have; and the graze which would enable them to keep those commandments is also lacking" (DB I092). An infallible teaching, therefore, guarantee, s that we have the necessary graces to keep the commandments. That teaching aimed directly at those divine precepts which oblige under pain of sin, particularly of mortal sin. It may also be extended, though this conclusion is no longer infallible, to divine commands in a less strict serise of the word: to those expressions of the divine will which, though not binding under sin, .yet certainly manifest His desire ind. good pleasure. The Church's Authorit~I This latter is the case, as we well know, of the ordinary religious rules. We have a guarantee for it in the Church's approval both of religious life in general and of the particular religious institutes. The ¯ Church's sanction of the state oflife lived accordin'g to the three evangelical counsels is found in her age:old practice, which dates back td the early Cbristlan centuries, of approving and encouraging tbe monastic institute and the ascetical life. At the time of the Refor-mation it led to an infallible pronouncement, again at the Tridentine Council, by which she declared that the state of viriginity or celibacy is preferable to the state of Matrimony (DB 980). As to the appro-bation of particular institutes, theologians today are agreed in saying that in the solemn approval of religious orders the doctrinai judg-ment that the religious orders,, are apt means to reach Christian per-fection is covered by the Church's infallibility. In the less solemn .confirmation of other religious institutes, the Church's authority in-' volved is not the big.best; yet. that.approval also shares, according.to .the. degree, of the authority" that gives it, in the same fundamental guar.ant~.e:.of truth which is divine. Accordi,ngly? Catholic theology ¯' 257 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious is unanimous, in declaring that the obligation for religious to work for perfection according to the pattern designed in their respective laws is, because of the Church's approbation, the'clear expression of God's will for them. "On this doctrinal foundation rests the teaching of theologians who, like Suar~z, hold that the grace of a religious vocation includes the spe.cial supernatural aids required to live up to the ideal which is proposed to the religious by their institute. He wrote: "Since all ap-proved religious orders are deservedly regarded as founded by the special Providence of God, there is no doubt that each enjoys a'spe-cial divine assistance proportionate to its vocation, and hence greater in proportion as its institute is more exalted and difficult and organ-ized for the greater service of God and the more far-reaching good of the Church" (Rel. S.J., I, 6, 9). What holds good for reli-gious orders as a whole, also applies to the members. The graces of their vocation which effectively enable them to pursue the end of their institute are the concrete expression of the divine assistance that flows from God's special Providence over them. Religious, therefore, are building .their trust on the safe rock of Peter when they firmly believe in the grace of their vocation. More-over, does not the experience of the religioh~ life come to teach them that the Lord does not disappoint that trust? When and in the measure that they are faithful to their calling, they find out what these graces of our vocation mean in practice. Graces of Light and Strength As actual graces in general, so the graces of our vocation are of two kinds which, more often perhaps, are found together rather than isolated. First there is light for the mind, generally more affective and practical" than purely sp~e~uiative and cold (for they are meant to lead to action), by which the meaning and reality of the religious ideal, duties, privileges, favors, appear more clearly, more appealingly, and more exaltedly worthwhile. These' actual graces of light, on occa-sion standing out very markedly, at other times more dim yet really present, give a deeper and new understanding of the rules, of the ideal of poverty; chastity, obedience, of the community life and of our daily tasks of education, missionary work, medical charity, sacred "ministry so that the good works by which religious strive after sand-tity. take on their deep, often hidden, meaning. Together with that light goes a grace of strength and courage for'the will and heart, 25'8 September, 1951 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION tempering and steeling one"s whole moral an~ spiritual structure, actually enabling religious to live according to their light. These graces of fortitude, patience, and ability, make Jrpossible to keep up ¯ the effort for progress, and bravely and gladly to accept and take up the small and on occasion bigger crosses involved in the faithful ful-filment of their daily duties. These graces of strength, at times ex-perienced more forcibly, at other times, perhaps more commonly, perceived in humble and dim faith, smoothen the path towards per-fection which often is rough and always uphiIl. The remembrance of these graces received in the past is a precious confirmation" of Our faith and trust in the grace of our vocation. Condition of Our Trust That faith and trust is rightly ours on one condition: that we do, sincerely and hum.bly, what in us lies to answer the graces we receive. There is little need to insist on the first and foremost part in this cooperation with grace which we may take for granted, namely, that we live in the state of sanctifying grace. Progress in grace supposes the st'ate of grace. Unless the substance of the spiritual life be there, we cannot expect further grace~ for progress. These graces, according to the ordinary rule of Divine Providence, are usually given in proportion to oui" fidelity in accepting and answering them. One way of showing this desire of receiving and exploiting those graces is our faithful and insisting prayer for them. According to the hint of the Council of Trent we quoted above, our asking for graces may well be the condition for receiving them. We may even count on the abundant divine aids guaranteed by the grace of our vocation if we sincerely and generously trade for spiritual profit with those we receive. No doubt even then no one can vouch for it that he will never fail God's grace, even though grace does not fail him. We know it too well, human frailty remains in religious as well. And we need not be surprised at our daily faults of weakness which, we may confi-dently hope, involve but little guilty negligence. Provided. only we know how to exploit those very failings to deepen humility and a sense of our need of prayer and trust in the Lord, they do not seri-ously impair our fidelity to grace. Our desires and deeds continue then to express our sincere gratitude for God's great gift, our call to the religious life. Then we may and must always count on the grace of our vocation. 259' A Vocational Newspaper [Contact, a bright, four-page, two-year-old vocational newspaper from the arch-diocese of Boston, may be of interest to readers of the REVIEW who are not ac-quainted with it. The following description was written by a staff member of the publication. For further information write to: Director of Vocations, Room 622, 185 Devonshire St., Boston, M~,ss. ED.] Maintaining that "Personal contact between an interested priest or religious and a good potential candidate becomes the only real vocation program," Father Francis A. Barry, director of vocations in the Boston archdiocese, thought that a vocational newspaper might provide a natural occasion for conversation or 'even extended talks on religious vocations. The paper was given the significant name: Contact. Experience has shown the idea was a 'good one. Contact, a monthly during the school year, began publicati.o.n in October, 1949. His Excellency, the Most Reverend Richard J. Cushing, Archbishop of Boston, the founder of the special vocational program, is the adv.isory editor. The editor is Father Barry. He is assisted by eight associate, a makeup, and ten contributing editors. The latter include diocesan and religious priests, Brothers, and Sisters who write columns, features, reviews, and editorials. His Excellency financed the project during its initial year. The religious orders and congregations having houses in the archdiocese shared the major ex-pense since then. , Distributed gratis" to pupils of parochial or other Catholic schools, from the seventh grade through the senior year in school as well as to Sunday schools, rectories, and seminaries, the circulation now tops 50,000." Increased solely by ~ear-say advertising, the mailing li~t now re'aches out to thirty-one s.tates, the Philippine's, Cuba, Italy; France and Canada. The italicized, three-column, colored logotype carries the triple message: Information, Inspiration, and Action. To attract the young people's attention, each issue is printed with bright color spots, ac.cording to the season or month. Adjacent to some of the standing heads appears a small portrait of the editor of the column, showing his religio.us habit ahd giving his name and address. Feature pictures and action shots of'the apostolate of teaching or social service highlight each issue. Provocative headlines dot the pages: It Seems to Me . Horizons, Meet. some religious com- 260 September, 1951 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS ~nunity, Looking Out . thought from the seminary or the novi-tiate, Do You KnoW?, Parents" Column, and Around tile Diocese. Parochial high school reporters keep copy flowing to the desk of the editor of the last-mention~ed column. Contact reiterates the words of His Holiness, Pope Pius XII: "This vcJcation, thisloving call makes itself heard in manydifferent ways, as many as the infinite variety of accents in which the Divine Voice may speak: irresistible invitations, affectionate and repeated promptings,gentle impulses."--SISTER MARY REGINA, S.S.,J. Offering Communion t:or.Ot:hers Clarence McAuliffe, S.3. SISTER LOUISA sat placidly at her desk filling out the spiritual bouquet. It was the community's gift to Sistdr Mercedes who was to make her p~ofession next day. Sister Louisa was adding her contribution to the various specified good works-- rosaries, s{ations, visits, penances,, aspirations, Masses, Communions. It was an easy and congenial task and she contributed generously. But when she had finished, she found a question e.ngaging her mind,. a question she had never asked herself before. She had added five to the total of Commuriions to be offered for Sister Mercedes. 3ust what did it mean to offer Communion for somebody else? She ~had been doing it for many years. Her relatives and friends were always pleased when she told them that she would offer her Communion for them. Yet she had to confess now that she really did not know what she meant wh'en she told them that'she would offer her Communion for their intention. Many religious besides Sister Louisa have been puzzled by the same question. Nor is its answer easy to find. The purpose of this article is to clarify what we mean when we tell others that we are going to offer our Communion for them. It is important to remember that Communion produces certain effects that are inalienable. For instance, Communion automatically increases sanctifyin~ grace and most probably has the power,to con-fer more of this grade than any other sacrament. We do not transfer 261 - CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Ret~ieto for R'eligious any of this to others when we offer our Communion for them. Again, the increase of active love for Go~t and our neighbor which is the .special effect of the Eucharist and which depends on the fervor of our thanksgiving, is not surrendered by offering Communion for somebo~ly else. So too, the strength to resist temptations, the cooling of disordered feelings, since these are special though secondary effects of Communion and depend also on the fervor of one's thanksgiving, are incommunicable. The same is t6 be said of the additional right to a glorious bodily resurrection which is acquired by the worthy reception of Communion. Finally, the remission of venial sins which results automatically from Communion, if the recipient has sincerely revoked all wilful attachment to them, cannot be transferred to any other person. From all this it is ~lear that the principal benefits accruing from the Lord's Table remain with the communicant. In fact it might appear that no spiritual gifts remain which can lend real meaning to our promise to offer Communion for somebody else. But there are. When we ~o to Holy Communion we ordinarily do extra praying and a certain ambunt of mortification. We make a suitable prepara-tion and thanksgiving. We also fast beforehand. Now we all know that prayer and fasting are subjective acts of virtue, ~nd when made by a person in the state of grace, they have a three-fold value in the sight of God. For the sake of brevity, the theologians use tbre'e tech-nical words to express this three-fold efficacy. They say 'it is "meri-torious, satisfactbry, and impetrative." What they mean is that every act of virtue wins more sanctifying grace (meritorious efficacy), removes some temporal punishment (satisfactory), and pleads with God for spiritual and temporal favors (impetrative). In addition, therefore, to the sanctifying grace which comes spontaneously from each Communion, a person also gets more sanc-tifying grace from his acts of virtue elicited before and after receiving the sacrament. Since we can never give one iota of sanctifying grace, no matter by what means it is acquired, to another person, it is evi-dent that the grace proceeding from these acts of virtue at Commun-ion time is also retained by the communicant. However, the satisfactory and impetrative efficacy of these acts may be relinquished in favor of others when we offer Communion for them. Suppose we consider first the gift we make when we hand over the satisfactory fruits of our Communions. Ordinarily we are able to make a fitting preparation for the 262 oep*e,noer, I95 ! COMMUNION FOR OTHERS reception of Holy Communion. Not only do we fast, rise early, kneel down, but we also make acts of faith, hope, confidence, desire, humility, and perhaps acts of perfect love for God. Now each of these acts of penance and of prayer, by reason of our good subjective dispositions which accompany them, has the power to take away some temporal punishment. Moreover, since we are the ones who do the penance and say the prayers, we have the right to have our otot~ temporal punishment lessened by them. What happens, then, when we offer Communion for another? We transfer this incalculable benefit to the other party and, if he is in the state of grace, he receives it. The same is to be said of'the~ prayers we say at the moment when we receive our divine Lord and during the time that He remains pres-ent within us. We communicate the satisfactory value of all these prayers to the other person. Instead of shortening our own purga-tory we shorten the purgatory of another. We', so to speak, suffer vicariously and gratuitously for some one who has no real claim to our sacrifice. If we reflect for a moment, we shall also understand why the satisfactory efficacy of these virtuous acts preceding, accompanying, and following Holy Communion exceeds that produced by the same acts elicited at some other time. We suppose, of course, that our fer-vor (and by that we refer not to our feelings, but to our acts of will) would be equal in both instances. We shall also understand why Communion remits more temporal punishment than other prayers listed in a spiritual bouquet--for example, rosaries or visits to the chapel. We take for granted, of course, that our cooperation would be equally diligent and that the same number of acts of virtue would be made. Otherwise it could easily happen that a rosary re-cited devoutly and animated by many acts of virtue would remit more temporal punishment than a Communion prepared ~or and received listlessly and negligently. Buy other thin~s being on a par, there is an objective reason why Holy Communion should take away more temporal punishment than the rosary or other pious works. The truth of this statement rests .on the fact that ordinarily the acts of virtue we make in connection with Communion are more fer-vent (here again we do not refer to feelings of fervor) and more numerous than those evoked by other works of piety. This is pa.r-ticularly tru~ of the prayers we say during our thanksgiving' after Communion. And it should be noted that temporal punishment is 263 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious canceled in proportion to the fervor and number of our.tSrayers. But why should our prayers after Communion be more fervent? Because Christ is then physically present within us. As a result of His sacramental presence, both the number and the quality of the actual grac'es showered upon us are ~uperi6r to those which necessarily accompany every pious supernatural work. After Communion our Savior inserts a continuous stream of vivifying actual graces into our minds and hearts, and these graces have as their general object, not to arouse merely confidence or faith or humility, but love itself, the most noble of all the virtues. If we ponder these facts, we shall. readily see. why our prayers after Communion have a singular power to reduce the debt of punishment incurred by somebody else. So much for th~ satisfactory value of Holy Communion. We can be comparatively brief in treating of the sacrament's impetrati've fruit because it rests on the same principles we have been discussing. By offering Communion for others, v~e also mean that we trans-mit to them the petitional power of both our preparation and thanksgiving. The very same acts of virtue have not only a satis-factory, but also a pleading or intercessory value. They implore God to brant spiritual and temporal f~vors. Here again, since we are the ones who do the praying, we are the one~ who have a right to obtain the favors. But we,relinquish this right in fav~)r of other~ when we offer our Communion for them. We forget our own needs; we fore-go some benefits that would surely come to ourselves. ~re sacrifice ourselves for the other party. Of course, we must remind ourselves again that we cannot surrender those benefits that flow spontaneously from the Sacrament, such as the remission of venial sins, the growth in love for God and other people, the new title to everlasting glory and the curbing of unruly impulses. But there are many other spiritual and temporal favors that every person needs. There are .many that we ourselves need, even though we often do.not know precisely what" they are. Yet we forget our-. selves and transfer the intercessory vigor of our Communions to others when we offer Communion for them. It is like writing a let-ter of recommendation f6r som~ one else to obtain a benefit that you yourself need and have a right to; and it is a letter of recommenda-tion that you know is certain to be heeded. It is well to remember also that this impetrative efficacy of~Com-reunion is likewise of exceptional ~luality, just as the satisfactory efficacy, and for the same reason. The number and kind of actual 264 September, I~51 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS graces stirred up in the soul after. Communion exceed those accom-panying other good works. .Consequently if we co-operate with them, our acts of virtue will be correspondingly more fervent so that their pleading value is enhanced. Unfortunately, most of us probably do not pray explicitly "after Communion for the person for whom' we offer the Communion. This is, of course, not necessary since our intention made beforehand suffices to obtain for the otber~the satisfactory and impetrative fruits of the sacramefit. However, if we do remember to pray expressly for the' other person after we have received Communion, we shall un-doubtedly increase the value of our gift for him. It stands to reason that our Savior' listens to our. requests with a more willing ear when He is actually present within us with His Sacred Humanity. We recommend, therefore, the practice of praying explicitly after receiving Communion for the person to whom we relinquish the benefits. We may even ask Our Savior to grant certain spedfic favors, especially spiritual ones, to the other party. In conclusion, then, we cannot give away to anyone else the ¯ principal fruits of our Holy Communions. These we have itemized in the beginnihg. In addition to those listed, we might also add that when an indulgence is granted for the reception of Communion or for some prayer said,before or after receiving the Sacrament, we can-not offer it for another living person. Nevertheless, we do a singular favor foi others .when we offer a Communion for their intention. We sacrifice'for theirbenefit the satisfactory and impetrative fruits which are won by our acts of virtue preceding, accompanying, and follow-ing Holy Communion. MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS Medico-Moral Problems, Part III, by Gerald Kelly, S.J., contains complete dis-cussions of euthanasia, therapeutic abortion, organic transplantation,, and adult baptism. Also included are discussions of co-operation in illicit operations, the delivery of a. hydrocephalic infant, and lobotomy for pain relief. The booklet is published by the Catholic Hospital Association of the United States and Canada, 1438 South Grand'Blvd., St. Louis 4, Mo. 50 cents a copy; 12 for $5.25; 50 for $,20;' 100 for $37.50. Parts I and II can be obtained at the same place and at the same prices. 265 uestdons and Answers --20- An unexpected opportunity has arisen to sell a piece o{ communlt~ property {or $100,000, which is much more than we could get for it under normal circumstances. But the property must be transferred.withln ten days, otherwise the offer will be wlfhdrawn. VVhat shall we do about gefflng permission of the Holy See? Fortunately His Excellency, the Apostolic Delegate, now has faculties from the Sacred Congregation of Religious to permit the contracting of loans, sales, and alienations of property belonging to a religious institute, when the sum involved does not exceed a half million gold dollars, provided that the conditions laid down in canons 534 and 1531 be observed. We take this opportunity to inform our readers that the Sacred Congregation of Religious has also granted two other special facul-ties to the Apostolic Delegate: to dispense.religious for the reception of Holy Communion from the obligation of the Eucharistic fast so that they may take something by way of drink or m. edicin~, when their physician considers the keeping of the fast injurious to their health; also to shorten or prolong the postulancy prescribed by the Code of Canon Law (see Bouscaren, Canon Lau2 Digest, Supplement 1943-1948, p. 131, under canon 858). m2 I-- I have heard that permission of the Holy See is required {or th~ aliena-tion of notable relics and images. Is it proper ÷o infer that relics and ¯ venerated images may be bought and sold? Does his include sacred vessels? To .buy and sell is only one form of alienation. Hence it does not follow as a general rule that relics and venerated images may be bought and sold simply because the Holy See at times gives permis-sion to alienate such things. Since three distinct things are included in this question we think it advisable to treat each class separately. Relics. Canon 1289 states very plainly: "It is unlau~[ul (nefas) to sell sacred relics." To do so would be to commit a sin of simony. However, it would not be sinful to charge and pay for the metal case in which the relics are usuhlly inclosed. Canon 1281, § I tells us that "notable relics or precious images, and likewise all relics or images 266 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Which are honored in any church with great devotion on the part of the people, cannot be alier~ted validly nor transferred permanently to another church without the permission of the Holy See." What is me~tnt by notable relics? Paragraph two of canon 1281 gives us a list of notable relics: the body, head, arm, forearm, heart, tongue, hand, leg, or that part of the' body in which the martyr suffered, provided it be "entire and" not too small." Such relics may not be alienated without the permissi6n, of the Holy See. Since it is for-bidden to sell. relics, alienation here must be taken in its other meaning, that is, to give away, to lend, and the like. The permission of" the Holy See would be required also to alienate relics which °are not notable; provided that they are honored in a church with great devotion on the part of the faithful. Small relics in the possession of private persons do not come under canon 1281, but they may never be sold. Precious [maqes. Ecclesiastical goods (church property) are shid to be.precious,when they have a ~pecial value by reason of artistic, historical, or material content (canon 1497, § 2). An image is said to be precious if it was painted by a great artist, or was made of precious materials, and has a notable valu&, that'is, over 1000 gold life (about $335 in our present money). Such images, as well as others which are not precious but which may be called venerable because of the great devotion of the faithful towards them, may not be alienated without the permissiqn of the Holy See. Sacred Vessels. Things are said to be sacred when they are .destined for divine worship by reason of their consecration or con-stitutive blessing. Canon 1305 tells us that "an article of sacred equipment which is blessed or consecrated loses its blessing or conse-cration . . . if it has been put to degrading uses 6r has been exposed for public sale." On the other hand, canon 1539 states that "in the sale or exchange of sacred things no account of the consecration or blessing is to be taken in determining the price." We may say, there-fore, that sacred vessels may be sold privately by one individual to another, or by one moral person to another (a church or community to another church or community) provided no extra charge is made for the blessing or consecration. But sacred things may not be exhibited publicist for sale without losing tbeir blessing or consecra-tion. This applies principally to auction sales and to the placing of a sacred object in the window or in the show case of a store open to the public. 267 QUEST, IONS AND A .NSWERS Reuieu) for'Religious We may conclude by adding that a consecrated chalice and paten do not lose their consecration'by being regilded (canon 1305, § 2). May exfreme unction be admlnls+ered before any major opera÷ion? For the valid reception of extreme unction the subject must be in " danger of death ¯from sickness or old age. If the person who is to, undergo major surgery is already in this condition, he is capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation. It may be that this is ge~nerally the case, but it is not necessarily so. Some operations which may entail a great deal of danger are performed for removing some chronic condition which might not become dangerous, without the operation, for a long time. Such patients cannot be anointed before the operation. In practice, it is not easy to decide whether to anoint a person. before an operation or t6 hwait the outcome of the operation. ¯ There is no universally-established practice; nor could there be: Some patients are clearly not capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation; others are clearly capable; and still others are "borderline cases." Moreover, the pastor or chaplain has not merely to decide whether the patient can be validly anointed l~ut also to judge when the anointing would be most appropriate and beneficial. Our ¢ons+ffufions +el[ us +ha+ "[eff~rs fo +he S~s+ers as well as +hose senf by +hem shall pass +hrough ÷he hands of +he superior who may read +hem," In view of +hls s+a+emen+, may a eAenera[ chap+er eAranf +o 9olden jubilaHans +he prlvllecAe' of seal[n~ +belt leffers before ~ivlng ÷hem ÷o +hl superlor7 "-['he general chapter has no power to change the constitutiofis, unless the constitutions themselves give it that power, which is not likely. On the other hand, since the constitutions' do not oblige the superior 'to read all letters which pass through her hands, the general chapter could recommend that superiors refrain from reading the letters of golden jubilarians, but it could not take away the right to read them which is contained in the constitutions. The general chapter may likewise request that the constitutions be changed in this matter, if that be the wish of the majority. Such a request for a change in the constitutions would be made to the local ordinary in the case of a diocesan congregation, or to the Holy See (Co.ngrega-tion of Religious) in the case of a pontifical institute. 268 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Ret~iew /:or Religious m24-- Is the novice master to be present at the discussion of the general council which follows upon his report on the novices who are preparing for first professlon? Canon 563 reads as follows: "During the course of the year of novitiate, the master of novices, conformably to the constitutions, must present to the .chapter or the higher superior a report con-cerning the conduct of each of the novices." Strictly speaking there-fore, the master of novices makes his report to the chapter (in inde-pendent monasteries! or to the higher superior, but not directly to the gefieral council, unless the constitutions prescribe this. Hence a written report should be given the higher .superior who, in turn, will communicate it to the general council. Many constitutions have an article based on art. 300 of the Norrnae which says that "whenever in the general council the novices or the novitiate is discussed, the mistress should be called, who will make known her mind on the subject under discussion, or submit opportune information." There will be no need (and certainly no obligation) for the master of novices to remain at the council session after he has given the infor-mation prescribed by canon 563. If necessary, h~ can always be called back for further information. ~-25-- Is it permissible for sick Sisters who are not completely bedridden to ¯ receive Holy C~ommunion by the cell of a Sister who is confined perman-ently to her bed. These Sisters can manage to get around although the doctor's orders are that they rest as much as possible. Likewise the sana-torium in which they stay has' an elevator and the chapel is on the first floor. The general rule is that all should receive Holy Communion in the chapel if they can conveniently do so. If the Sisters are so sick that they are obliged to miss Holy Mass, even though they are up and about their rooms or in the corridor, they may receive Holy Com-munion on the floor on which they li~'e. As to the elevator: if the Sisters use .it to go to'another floor for their meals, then they should use it likewise to go to the chapel to receive Holy Commu'nion. In general one may say that if going to the chapel for Holy Com-munion would lengthen the time for the Eucharistic fast, or would put ar~ additional strain upon a sick Sister who is not confined to her 269 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS Review [or Reh'gious bed, she may receive Holy Communion on the floor on which she lives. --26-- Is the practice of saying I000 Hall Marys on the Feast of the Annun-ciation ÷o be considered a superstition? Everything. will depend upon the motive a person has in re-peating the Hail Mary that often on the Feast of the Annunciation. If this is done simply out of love for Our Lady, there is nothing wrong with it, since, it is a laudhble act of devotion. ~If, on the other hand, the practice were based upon a ~purious ,revelation, or a sup-posed efficacy which it does not have of its own nature (that of intercessory prayer), then it might be superstitious. New Medi!:a!:ion Books Like St. Teresa of'Avila, many religious,need a meditation book for many years to help them in their prayer. Four such books, writ-ten as helps for contact with God in prayer, have recently been pub-lished or reprinted. The authors are a German Capuchin, an Ameri-can Jesuit in India, an American Benedictine, and a Hungarian bishop. The books vary in purpose, content, and form. Direct, ~arnest, Practical One of the books is the fourth volume of MEDITATIONS by Father Bernardine Goebel, O.F.M.Cap., translated by Father Berch- 'mans Bittle, O.F.M.Cap. Adapted for the use of the Friars Minor Capuchin, the direct, earnest, and practical reflections will help any follower of the Gospel. The present volume is for the'time from Trinity Sunday to the Twelfth Sunday biter Pentecost. The meditation for Sundays is usually on the Gospel of the.day. Some of the topics developed f6r the course of a week are the Eucharist, the Mass, faith, hope, char!W, and love of .neighbor. Each meditation begins with a brief sum-mary of the meditation followed by a brief introductory paragraph, develbps two points w.ith a consid,eration and*application, and ends with a prayer. (Province of St. Joseph, 1740 Mt. Elliott Ave., Detroit 7, Michigan, 1950. Pp. 264. $2.50.) Prodac~ of Missionarg Zeal From the 'mission.field ~f Ifidia comes MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY 270 " September, 1951 NEW MEDITA'FION BOOKS DAY by Rev. P. J. Sontag; S.J. It has recently been reprinted in an attractive two volume set. The first volume containin~ I87 medi-tations covers the first half of the liturgical year from Advent to Trinity Sunday. The second volume complete~ the year bringing the total number to 369. Most of the meditations are based on the life of Christ. Meditations on the Apostles Creed, the Our Father, the sacraments, on social justice and Catholic Action are included, as ¯ ycell as meditations for the First Fridays, the lit.urgical feasts, feasts of special saints, and over twenty meditations "honoring Mary. Though the meditations'were l~repared specifically for the l~iity, priests, seminarians, and all religious will find them belpful. Each meditation fias two or three (the. additional gives the account from Scripture) preludes and three ¯points which contain ample matter for reflection. For the colloquy, the author modestly hnd wisely con-fines himself to suggesting the person, Our Lord or a saint, to ad-dress. The set belongs to the Science and Culture Series and has a preface by the general editor, Joseph Husslein, S.J. (The Bruce Publishing Company, 400 N. Broadway, Mil,waukee 1, Wisc., 1950. Pp. I, xviii q- 476; II, ix q- 466. $10.00.) Goal ol: Monasticism Volume three completes THE.SCHOOL OF THE L, ORD'S SERVICE by, Rev. Bernard A. Sause, O.S.B. (author of "Bene, dicti~e Spirit-uality," REVIEW, X, 7). The set gives a meditation based on the Rule of St. Benedict for every day of the" year. The present volume for the ninth to the twelfth month contains the text of the Rule of St. Benedict and thirty meditations on ea'cb .of the foll~)wing four subjects: spirit of detachment: good zeal': practices, interpretations. and attitudes that have grown from the Rule: and intimate union with God. There is a bibliography and a composite index for the three volumes. Each meditation contains a carefully developed consideration, an examen for the day, and a practical application. The considerations are enriched by quotations, examples, and commehts ~arnered from Benedictine tradition, The sources are given after each meditation. The author's" development of zeal is especially noteworthy. He pre-sents the virtue of zeal in a concrete, appealing'manner by singling out for each day of the month a Benedictine monk, nun, or lay Brother who exemplified some aspect of zeal in his or her life. Not all of the exam, plats are canonized saints. The book deserves and 2'71 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS rewards a careful, prayerful reading. (St. Meinrad, Indiana: The. Grail, 1951.' Vol. iII, Pp. vi q- 575. $4.00.) Devotion and Inspiration Rt. Rev. Ottokar Proh~szka, bishop of Sz~kefeh~rvfir, who died on March 28, 1927, was an outstanding and saintly prelate and a gifted, prolific writer. His MEDITATIONS ON THE GOSPELS are brief, s.wift-moving reflections on the entire life of Our Lord. He presents a text from the New Testament, gives a few short reflections, and leaves preludes, affections, and colioquies to the exercitant. The meditations should be a source of devotion and inspiration to many. The author w!;ites in the introduction to his work: '"I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly.' I wish to serve this purpose of Jesus at His Incarnation, and to that end I am sending this book out into the world. It is intended to assist in the development of the life of Cbrist within our souls . Christ is God Himself in human shape, and I have to adore Him, and delight in His sublime beauty, in the depth and unique quality of His Soul, in the powerful originality of His mind, in the charm which He diffuses and in the life which flows forth from Him. My soul hangs upon His lips and hearkens to His every word. I see God reflected in Him as in a mirror; I bow my head upon His bands and surrender my heart to Him. He is God's Instrument; He will form me and harmonize thd conflicting elements within me." The present Newman edition bad three volumes fin one. The authorized translation from the Hungarian is by Margaret de Pill. Father C. C. Martindale, S.J., has written the foreword. (Wes.t-minster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1951. Pp.: I, xiv + 229; II, ix + 322; III, viii + 282. $5.50.) SPIRITUAL BOOK ASSOCIATES (381 Fourth Ave., New York 16, N.Y.) September Selection--R. Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Our Saviour and His Love for Us. $6.00. October Selection--Henri Petitot, O.P. The True Story of Saint Bernadette. (Cf. REVIEW, May '51, p. 161). $3.50. 272 ¯ 8ook Reviews THE HISTORY OF THE POPES. By Ludwlcj yon Pastor. Translated by E. F. Peeler. Vol. 36: Benedict XIV (1740-1758). Pp. 513; Vol. 37: Clement XIII (1758-1769). Pp. 4S8. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, Missouri. $5.00 per volume. This REVIEW (September, 1950) carried a notice of Volume 35 of the English Pastor, showing Pope Benedict XIV in the opening years of his pontificate working "with a pistol at his head," 'a weapon held by Catholic sovereigns demanding that he let them run the Church as well. ' It was particularly in m'eeting their concerted attack on the Society of ,lesus that Benedict XIV fought for his papal powers. Now Volume 36, the latter part of Benedict's pontificate, and 37, that of Clement XIII, come t6 hand, and their entire content is predominantly devoted to later phases of this titanic contest. Even so they bring the st.ory only to the end of the second last Act, and tfien break off while the~ translator works on the ddr~otternent. Will the Society, in the end, be suppressed? Will this regiment, of twenty-two thousand religious, in some forty provi,ces, 600 col-leges and over 1400 churches, be sacrificed? Read the next volume to foll~w shortly. To religious of both sexes, and members of whatever type of canonical organization, this story cannot but have deep and abiding interest. That it chanced to be the Ignatian Society against which the storm broke was because it was the "Swiss Guard" of the day, and the ruler of the Swiss Guard can expend his troops in battle, or order them back to the barracks to disband. Despite the faults and human weaknesses of the papacy's de-fenders, the story leaves them with the honorable distinction of. "canonical" death in the line of duty. Certain European monarchs were persuaded that the papacy had to be cut down to reasonable size. As the Minister Tanucci put it (37, 13) : "Certainly the primacy of the Pope was incontestable; he was the supreme head and centre of the Church; he had the right to summon a General Council, and he was infallible, but only when 15e made decisions in conjunction with the Bishops. But the Papacy in the form it had assumed in his day would have to. be abolished." 273 BOOK REVIEWS "The only way to treat the Pope was to . . . kiss his feet and bind his hands'~ .(28). So, under forms of exquisite politeness and courtly'deference, a violent strtiggle was waging. If the current tyranny of atheisti~ Commu, nism were being carried, on under the appearance of Catholic Leadership, if Marshal Stalin had his official minister at the Vatican to shape Catholic policy,.we could all the easier understand the high and mighty language of "unavoidable administrative necessity" that permeates these endless pages of eighteenth century despotism: It was proved with mathematical precision again and again that the mon-archs were but acting for the Church's good in withstanding the Pope, etc. Have we not heard these tunes being aired in our own day? Will it. be different in the twenty-second century, or the twenty-fifth? Details are all irrelevant; the contest wages still: evil has not prevailed, but it availeth much--GERALD ELLARD, S.J. THE LOVE OF GOD AND THE GROSS OF JESUS. By ÷he Rev. Regl-nald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Transl~÷ed by Sisfer Je~n~e Marle, O.P. Volume Two. Pp. vi q- 461. B. Herder Book C;o., Sf. Louis, 1951. $~.00. This volume carries forward and completes Father Garrigou- Lag~ange's studies on divine love and the perplexing trials that are apt to befall souls fairly far advanced in the way of that love. Briefly this is the content of it. Part one deals with "crosses of the senses." These ar4 understood to be just what St. 3ohn of the Cross describes as "the night of sense," and hence here we ,have Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange's interpretation of that portion of St. 3ohn's doctrine. Correspondingly the second part is taken up with St. dohn's !'night of the spirit." Both sections, therefore, are concerned with what one might term the dark, distressing, disconsolate, phase of the mystical life. Part three is headed, "The Life of Union through desus and Mary." Among the themes considered are the inhabita-tion of the Blessed Trinity, the unity and sublimity of the apostolic life, the priesthood of Christ, His kingship, the Blessed Virgin Mary as a model of reparation, and St. 3oseph as a model of the hidden life and first among the saints. As parts one and two would com-fort'and strengthen one who is suffering, the rigors of the night of the soul, so this third part has much that is positively very magnificent and inspiring. The Three Ages of the Interior Life is expressly offere~l to the 274 September, 1951 BOOK REVIEWS public by Ft. Garrigou-Lagrange as a synthesis of this work and Christian Perfection and Contemplation (vol. I, v). Hence it shares in the merits and demerits of that larger and later work. These were discussed at length pro and con'in this REVIEW previously (Novem-ber, 19'49, pp. 297-317; March, 1950, 78-95). ' Since The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus was subsequently incprporated in The Three Ages and presented there in the form which the author now prefers, it seems rather surprising that it should be translated and published at this time. Except for scholars who wisl~ to see both studies, one who wants Fr. Garrigou- Lagrange's ideas on these matters should preferably seek them in the later and more definitiire work--AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST~ By John of St. Thomas. Trenslated fro~ the Latin by Dornin~c Hucjhes, O.P. With e Foreword by Walter Farrell, O.P. Pp. x -f- 293. Sheed end Ward, New York, 19SI. "$3.7S. Now Fr. Hughes has done, and in beautiful form, for English readers what Madame RaissaMaritain did a number of years ago for the French, that is, he has made a translation of the celebrated