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Issue 58.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1999. ; f 0 r relig i ous Christian Heritages and ,Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1999 * VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religioug is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who J~nd that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; ~,rashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN ~5806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Riehards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Heritages and Contemporary Lfiv~ng MAY-JUNE 1999 * VOLUME58 * NUMBER3 contents 230 251 women religious Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understanding Better the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregations Margaret Susan Thompson suggests that emphasis on "charism" may not be helpful in explaining the ,founding experiences of many women's communities in 19th-century America, and identifies some of the reasons why "deep stow" may be a more usable concept. The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative Comments Elizabeth McDonough OP suggests that the time has come for United States religious women to initiate some possibly difficult but genuinely constructive self-criticism and some corrective change of course in various aspects of postconciliar renewal. 261 266 women and the church The Annuario Pontificio: The Vatican's "Pontifical Yearbook" and a Recent Editorial Decision Larry N. Lorenzoni SDB updates a bit of history about who are included in the Vatican's "Pontifical Yearbook." Women and Canon Law Joan A. Range ASC investigates the extraordinary recent history of women entering the field of canon law. Review for Religious 286 295 mary Five Faces of Mary Robert P. Maloney CM offers five Marian faces as a way of meditating on the rich, varied tradition surrounding the Virgin Mary. The Temple and the Journeying: Mary of Sorrows Joel Giallanza CSC draws directions for our spiritual life's journey from reflecting on the traditional seven sorrows of Mary. 3O5 314 witnessing Blessed Maria Droste: A Good Shepherd Motif in Sacred Heart Spirituality Juliana Devoy RGS tells the story of Blessed Maria Droste, which gives witness to her vision of God's merciful love reflected in Sacred Heart spirituality. Echoes from My Fifty-sixth Annual Retreat Robert F. Drinan sJ shares reflections on God!s grace stirring thoughts and feelings in a retreat. 228 32O 325 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Visitation by External Authorities Book Reviews May-.~une 1999 227- Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. --John 14:9 Wean talk about God in some very un-Christian ways. As we "dress up" God in the various cultural and time-bound categories of our human world, we are inevitably limited, in both our reasoning and our imagining. When we get swept up into a highly intellectualized philosophical approach, we find our-selves projecting a vague abstract and sometimes fright-ening power and a childishly understood world. God without a face. Although Jesus lived within human limitations of time and culture, he dared to speak "with authority" about the reign of God in images and parables that tore down the temple curtain of separation to let people catch some glimpses of God that are new. The synoptic Gospels--Mark, Matthew, and Luke--talk of a celebra-tory invitation to a banquet, of a shepherd doggedly searching out a lost sheep, so that we come to know and relate to God with fresh affective response. But the Gospel of St. John stands out as the Gospel of the God revealed to us by Jesus as "Father." Few are the chapters in John's Gospel that do not have explicit reference to God as Father. The qualities of this Father-God tumble out. This God is the God of life: "Just as the Father who has life sent me and I have life because of the Father." Jn 6:44. This is a God who works: "My Father is at work until now, and I am Review for Religious' at work as well" Jn 5:17. This is a God who teaches: "My doctrine is not my own; it comes from him who sent me" Jn 7:16; "I say only what the Father has taught me" Jn 8:28. This is a God who cultivates growth: "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower" Jn 15:1. Above all, this God is the one who loves: "The Father loves the Son and has given everything over to him" Jn 3:35; "the one who loves me will be loved by my Father"Jn 14:21. In retreat notes published as a book, The Ignatian Exercises in the Light of St. John, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini SJ reflects that a way of considering the Fourth Gospel is to see it as a gospel of prayer, It is prayer not just from people responding to Jesus as we do so often in our prayer lives, but prayer also from Jesus to the one he lovingly calls Abba-Father. From Jesus We learn how we are meant to grow in our relationship with God. And so this Gospel, in teaching a way of relating to God for the mature Christian, is paradoxically the Gospel most insistent in remind-ing us that we are still "children" who have--and who need for our very existence--a Father. We are called, in imitation of Jesus, to relate to a God from whom we have everything--all that we are and all that we would call "our own." This is the God that Jesus describes as the One apart from whose words he himself has nothing to say, the God apart from whose works he has no work to do. As Christian evan-gelizers, then, we need to follow the example of Jesus so that what we say flows from our union with this God. As Christian ministers we need to strive that all our deeds and good works flow from the baptismal grace given by God that makes us all very special children, God's sons and daughters. It is from this God we have come--a Source we call by Jesus' word Father-- and it is to this God we direct our whole life as the One we, with John, identify as Love. If we let the words of St. John enter more deeply into our very being, we will find ourselves being shaped and molded by the reality behind our personally limited understandings of God as Father and God as Love. This is the revealed God of Scripture we seek to know and make known ever better in this year dedi-cated to God the Father. David L. Fleming SJ '229 May-June 1999 MARGARET SUSAN THOMPSON Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understanding Bett@r the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregatigns Since the Second Vatican Council, the term charism increasingly has become associated with the identity, and .even the integrity, of religious congregations.1 Literally dozens of published essays explore the term's meaning and significance~ A substantial number of the community websites created in recent years contain a page about-- or at least an allusion to--the group's "charism," as do postconciliar constitutions, mission statements, and voca-tion paraphernalia. The hierarchy of the Catholic Church has not been silent either, particularly during the current papacy. For example, in its 1983 document "Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life 'as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate," the Sacred ~Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes used ~the term ten times, and it shows up a whopping eighty-six times in//Tta con-secrata, John Paul II's apostolic letter in response to the 1994 Synod on Religious Life. . Ironically, the word itself is not: to be found in Perfectae caritatis, the council document which treats the Margaret Susan Thompson PhD has written and lectured extensively on the history of women religious in the United States. She is associate professor of history and political sci-ence at Syracuse University; Department of History; 145 Eggers Hall; Syracuse, New York 13244. Review for Religious "Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life." In fact, its first appearance in a magisterial treatise seems to be in 1971's Evangelica testificatio. Addressing religious themselves, Paul vI speaks of the "charisms of your founders" and the "charisms of the various insti-tutes" (§§11, 32), assuming, probably with justification, that the terminology would be familiar to his intended audience. But, for those in doubt about this nomenclature, Paul cites Perfectae cari-tatis §2b, which calls upon members of religious institutes to respect their "particular characteristics and work" and "their founders' spirit and special aims" as they proceed with their groups' renewal. Paul extends the discussion in Mutuae relationes (1978), using the term nineteen times and declaring, among other things, that "the very charism of the founders (Evangelii nuntiandi, §I 1) appears as an 'experience of the Spirit'" and that "every authentic charism implies a certain element of genuine originality and of special initiative for the spiritual life of the church" (§12). By now, therefore, one would assume that the meaning of a term so widely and authoritatively used would be clear, and one might also assume that the reality of the thing known as "charism" would be easily identifiable and inherent to religious life. Indeed, this seems to be implicit in various references from the two doc-uments of the current pontificate mentioned above. The first para-graph of "Essential Elements" refers to "the founding charism of a particular institute" and later even says that, through its appro-bation of a community's canonical status, the "God-given ministry of the hierarchy" has ratified the "authentic discernment of its founding charism" (§41):2 The references in Vita consecrata are too numerous even to summarize, but here are a few of them: "charisms proper to the various institutes," "fidelity to the found-ing charism," "[an institute's] Rule and constitutions [are approved] in accordance with a specific charism confirmed by the church," and "the uniqueness of their different ~harisms' (§§19, 36, 37, 53). Surely, then, "charigm" is intrinsic to religious life. Every con-gregation must have one, unique to that particular institute and traceable directly to its individual founder., But the rationale for this essay is precisely that none of the assumptions above seems necessarily to be the case. It is my con-tention that, in much of its current usage, charism is a term of such vagueness and ambiguity as to be almost meaningless. More impor-tantly, even if we can accept the connotations that John Paul II apparently regards as definitive (and he is hardly alone in this atti- May-~tune 1999 -231 . Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? tude), I would argue that a good many of the women's apostolic congregations that ministered in the 19th and early 20th century in the United States have no such thing as a "charism" according to this understanding. Thus, if, as John Paul II suggests, "charism" is an "essential element" of religious life, the very legitimacy of these congregations seems to be east into question--surely a seri-ous, perhaps even disastrous, consequence for the groups involved. What is needed, therefore, is some alternative to charism, some concept that is more in accord with the historical reality of many institutes and legitimates their experience and continued existence. It is unlikely that my consideration here will arrive at any defini-tive conclusions, but I hope to suggest some alternative ways of thinking that may prove useful in framing the historical and cur-rent context of sisters' experiences and perhaps assist in the pro-cess of religious revitalization and renewal. At the very least, from my ongoing research into women's religious life in the 19th-cen-tury United States, I think I can explain why the emphasis on "charism" in contemporary thinking about religious life is prob-lematic and historically unjustified, at least as a universal norm. Before we proceed, a few assumptions need to be made explicit. First, I believe that some congregations do have a charism and that in some cases it is traceable, at least in some degree, to an individual "founder." In other instances, its origin may lie with a founding group of individuals (a "founding generation"), while in still others a charism may have emerged later in a community's history--or a buried, neglected, or even repudiated charism may be discerned or refurbished by subsequent generations. Second-- and in this I am confirmed by the usages of several scholars as well as by both Paul vI and John Paul II--I believe there is also some-thing generic that can be called "a charism of apostolic religious life." Third, the lack of a particular charism does not render an institute (or its members or ministries) less significant, "spiritual," or legitimate than those which do have such a "gift":--just as the existence of one does not indicate superiority or greater validity. Indeed, given that the use of the term charism in connection with religious life is of such recent provenance, its application to past experience--particularly if it is considered to be some sort of uni-versal norm--actually may be ahistorically anachronistic. The word charism, of course, is Greek and means "gift." In contemporary Christian usage, it refers specifically to a spiritual gift, that is, "a free gift of grace." Moreover, virtually all Catholic Review for Religious scholars agree that a charism is not solely for the benefit of its direct recipient; rather, "it is a supernatural gift bestowed by the Holy Spirit for building up the body of Christ" or, in simpler terms, a "divine spiritual gift to individuals or groups for the build-ing up of the community." Within the context of religious life, the charism presumably is received initially by an institute's founder, who transmits it on to her followers. It is this "gift of grace" which is to imbue the community with its unique character or identity; as Richard McBrien puts it, "the unique gift of the founder., is given to every member from one generation to the next."3 Between 1727 and 1917, at least 422 Catholic apostolic con-gregations of women religious were active within the United States.4 Some were short-lived, but four hundred of them contin-ued to exist in 1917, and the overwhelming majority are extant today. Of the 422, a total of 273 belonged to one of ten large reli-gious "families," each of which could trace its birth to a particu-lar founder or pair of founders (see Table 1). Thus, each of these could be presumed to be a beneficiary of the. "charism" of the per-son or persons with whom that family began. Moreover, many of these groups also regard themselves as having their own particular founders, who "re-visioned" the familial identity in some way that imparted a special or distinct character to it.s Table 1 U.S. Al~ostolic Women's Communities andTheir Religious "Families" . FAMILY FOUNDER(S) NO. OF COMMUNITIES Benedictine Benedict, Scholastica 32 Carmelite (reform) Teresa of Avila 3 Dominican Dominic 30 Franciscan Francis 54 St. Joseph Jean Pierre Medaille 27 Mercy Catherine McAuley 65 Presentation Nano Nagle 7 Ursuline Angela Merici 30 Vincentian Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marfllac 10 Visitation Francis de Sales and Jane Frances de Chantal 15 May-June 1999 233 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? No one can or will deny that these communities have---since their founding, in most cases--been known by one of these "fam-ily names." Still, this begs some important questions. How many of even these congregations can be said to have been "birthed" into the charism of their family forebears? How many incorpo-rated themselves into a particular family with explicit awareness of the spiritual and ecclesial consequences? How many can assert with confidence that their history is one of explicit and consistent acknowledgment of and fidelity to that charism? In other words, to what extent did "charism" traditionally play a part in shaping the identities of at least some of these institutes? Alternatively, how many of them became, in fact, "generic" apostolic entities doing good work, composed of good (even holy) people, but ~undistin-guished by any familial or "particular" spiritual identity that would differentiate them clearly from others of theoburgeoning number of women's religious orders that came increasingly to "do their thing" in the United States in, the 19th and 20th centuries? Finally, most of the nearly one hundred fifty other women's congregations I have studied also assert that they have particular "founders' charisms." Are all of them justified in their claims? It naturally is impossible to provide in one article definitive answers to any of these questions. Instead, I intend to offer some representative examples from the histories of the communities I have studied, examples that I believe will demonstrate some of the major problems with the assumptions about charism that charac-terize so much of what has been said about religious life in the past quarter century. Let me emphasize thavnone of these exam-ples is unique; rather, each is suggestive of all-too-typical congre-gational experiences. Each indicates some aspect of why I believe that the notion of a "founder's?' or "founding" charism is so prob-lematic and why the notion may, in fact, do more to obscure the realities of women's religious history than to illumine it. The Most Common Scenario: Instrumentalism Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, the Catholic population of the United States exploded. As early as 1850, Catholics constituted the largest single body of believers in the nation, a ranking they have maintained ever since. But, hardly monolithic, they consisted of an ecer growing number of proudly distinct (and sometimes mutually antagonistic) ethnic groups, many Review for Religious of which came to the New World specifically to escape religious persecution or to preserve their cultural identities. Most were poor when they arrived in their new nation; few except the Irish spoke English. Their secular and Protestant neighbors greeted them with suspicion and often with overt hostility. Clearly, these were peo-ple with numerous and diverse needs to be met, and church lead-ers, beleaguered and fearful of "leakage" from the faith, sought ways to respond effectively. It is not surprising, therefore, that dozens of institutes were started in or brought to the United States to provide practical ser-vices, often to specific subgroups of Catl~olics. Both individual community histories by the score and various more com-prehensive works attest con-vincipgly-- and, before 1965, unapologetically--to what I call the instrumental motivation for so many foundations: to teach the ever growing number of school-age children,6 to provide healthcareand relief (primarily, of course, but not only to Catholics), and, increasingly, to work with persons from partic-ular immigrant groups who needed ministers who understood both their languages and their traditions and could both foster cultural survival and ease the pro-cess of Americanization. Others were started for equally functional purposes: to do housework for priests or to offer catechetical instruction to children outside the parochial schools. Consider, for instance, the following accounts of foundings, taken almost randomly from the 1964 edition of Thomas McCarthy's Guide to the Catholic Sisterhoods of the United States-- perhaps the most successful comprehensive "vocation book" ever published in this country:7 [Sisters of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin:] A school, but no teachers, and none to be had from any religious commu-nity in spite of numerous requests by Father Jean Harper. ¯. He decided to act upon his curate's suggestion: "We can-not obtain nuns? Then, let us make some!" And so the con-gregation came into existence . . (p. 192). Dozens of institutes were started in or brought to the United States to provide practical services, often to specific subgroups of Catholics. 235--- May-~une 1999 Thompson * Charism or Deep Story? [Franciscans of Tiffin, Ohio:] Father Joseph L. Bihn . . . founded this Franciscan community to help him care for the many children orphaned as a result of the Civil War. Three of his parishioners, Elizabeth Schaeffer, a widow, and her two daughters, formed the nucleus of this congregation. (p. 271). [Sisters of Sts. Cyril ahd Methodius:] The early 1900s was a critical period for the many immigrants from Slovakia who setded in the United States. Father Matthew Jankola of the Scranton diocese was keenly aware that this adjustment required not only the building of schools but also of secur-ing sisters to staff them. As a result of his efforts, this dioce-san congregation was established in 1900 (p. 189). [Sisters of the Holy Family, San Francisco, California:] "I have another work for you to do," Archbishop Joseph S. Alemany OP said to young Elizabeth Armer when she came to consult him about entering a contemplative order. The archbishop unfolded to the future Mother Dolores his plans for an insti-tute to give religious instruction to children who could not attend Catholic schools. (p. 295). [Little Daughters of St. Joseph:] Father Antoine Mercier, a Sulpician priest., who desired to establish a congregation of nuns who would consecrate themselves to the spiritual and material welfare of the clergy and seminarians, founded this community with the assistance of Miss de Lima Dauth, the co-foundress. On April 26, 1857, both began this eminently apostolic work of helping priests and seminarians by means of a life of prayer, self-denial, and manual labor (p. 36). [Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, Houston, Texas:] "A multitude of sick and infirm seeks relief at your hands" was the irresistible plea of Rt. Rev. C.M. Dubuis when he went to France to seek volunteers to help him in his missionary labors in Galveston, Texas. Three young women answered his appeal and with these he founded the congregation in 1866. The community, which built the first Catholic hospital in the state, has papal approval and conducts twenty-six insti-tutions. (p. 120). 236 Where, in any of these stories, can one discern a charism? Ministry, yes; inspiring service to needy people, certainly. But two obstacles to discerning a "charism of the founder" recur in each instance. First, the reason each community came into being was functional, not charismatic. And, second, at least as these accounts would have it, the initiating impulse came not from the women who would offer to respond, but from clerics--men who, by def- Review for Religious inition, were persons outside of the community itself and thus hard to recognize as part of the group's intrinsic "lived tradition.''s Random Rule Selection and the Problem of Charism Every autonomous congregation has its own constitution, but, properly speaking, only four Rules (St. Basil, St. Augustine, St. Benedict, and St. Francis) were approved by Rome, and every com-munity had to select one of these as the basis for its organization and gov-ernance. 9 This helps to explain, for example, why so many women's con-gregations belonged to the Franciscan "family"--generally speaking, it was considered the most "flexible" of the four and therefore the easiest to adapt to a variety of instrumental purposes. To assume, then, that every commu-nity designated as "Franciscan" also and intentionally embodied a Franciscan charism requires an enor-mous leap of faith; in fact, even some founders who wanted to be "Franciscan" sometimes began by organizing themselves by another Rule. Two contrasting examples will illustrate the problem. First, there is that of the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration, originally founded in Olpe, Westphalia, in 1859 (and eventually established in the U.S. in 1875). The founder, Mother Mary Theresia (Aline) Bonzel, had great devotion to St. Francis and wanted to be Franciscan, but one of her co-founders, Clara Pfaender, had previously belonged to a con-gregation which followed the Augustinian Rule. We may let the community's first historian, an unusually forthright individual, take the story from there: Aline Bonzel wanted the Franciscan Rule by all means. But seemingly she was not well acquainted with the basic Rule of religious orders . Clara Pfaender knew the Augustinian Rule from her convent days with the Sisters of Christian Charity. She felt she could write a constitution based on that Rule. Since she was the superior and responsible for admit-ting candidates into the community, it s~emed advisable, in this very beginning, that she have the liberty to employ her To assume that every community designated as "Franciscan" also and intentionally embodied a Franciscan charism requires an enormous leap of faith. 237 May-June 1999 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? full experience in religious life. Only on this basis can one explain how a community which uniformly desired to live according to the Franciscan Rule began with the Augustinian Rule, but with the intention of later converting to the Franciscan Rule. In this procedure the character of the times can readily be detec(ed. Many most likely saw basically lit-de difference whether one lived according to the Augustinian or the Franciscan Rule. The development of a specialized spirituality came later and in many instances vqry much later. As this author put it elsewhere: So many religious congregations came into being in the 19th century, and many chose their Rule by chance. Charitable activity called, and congregations were founded to fill the need to serve God and man. With some it seemingly made no difference what religious Rule was followed, for all were good and sanctifying~ . . . Foundations flourished which at first simpl); set up the aciivities and objectives of the apos-tolate and later wrote the rule and constitutions. Often enough at the very beginning it was purely accidental rather than a conscious effort that one or the other rule took hold.l° Contrast this with the experienqe of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Third Order of St. Francis (SSJ-TOSF). Their history has been recounted superbly in two volumes by Josephine Marie Peplinski; basically, the group owed its origins to ethnic conflict within the School Sisters of St. Francis. The School Sisters were predominantly German, and the founding SSJ-TOSFs were Polish members who, after many incidents distressing to them, decided in 1901 to break off and found their own congregation. They took the Rule and name of "Franciscan" with them, but their self-claimed identity was fundamentally Polish. Indeed, as Peplinski has docu-mented, part of the problem was that, for its first few decades of existence, the community's leadership was passed back and forth between two very different individuals, one of whom (Mother Mary F~licia Jasku, lski) had a real devotion to St. Francis, while the other (Mother Mary Boleslaus Rybicki) "moved the congre-gation toward a popular Jesuit interpretation of obedience and authority--military in tone." As Peplinski puts it, "She exerted great influence in developing the spirituality of the congregation throughout her lifetime . . . and afterwards through those who adopted her ideals. It is ~v0rthy to note that until 1940, fourteen years after Mother Mary Boleslaus's death, almost all of the retreat masters invited to th~ congregation were Jesuits." Peplinski describes tlie congregation during its first sixty years as a Review for Religious "Franciscan sisterhood adapted to the post-Tridentine paradigm of religious life serving the American immigrant church . A basic problem was that canon law rather than the gospel law of love was set up as the ideal." In fact, not until after Vatican II, under Peplinsld's own leadership (she led the congregation 1968-1976), did the SSJ-TOSFs make a concerted and systematic effort to dis-cover what "bein~ Franciscan:' was all about. But, while they in fact embrace a Franciscan spirituality as they enter into their sec-ond century, is it at all accurate, despite their name, to regard it as their "founding charism"?II What Happened to the Benedictines? .Peplinski's congregation was not the only one "adapted to the post-Tridentine paradigm of religious life serving the American immigrant church." What happened to the Benedictines was equally dramatic and potentially of even more profound conse-quence to what they were supposed to be all about. It is a com-plicated story, ably told from somewhat different perspectives by Judith Sutera, M. Incarnata Girgen, and Ephrem Hollermann.12 The first nuns came to St. Marys, Pennsylvania, in 1852 from Eichst~itt, Bavaria, where they had lived in a way that permitted full cenobitic, monastic observance, including recitation of the Divine Office and solemn vows according to the Benedictine formulary: stability, conversatio ("conversion of life"), and obedience, However, within less than ten years after their arrival in the United States, a complicated series of events ensued, resulting in fundamental alterations to their tradition. Stated simply, the right to take solemn vows was abrogated (because the women were unable to observe strict enclosure), pressures of "life in mission territory" (as well as the elimination of solemn vows) led to "permission" to miti-gate the requirement to recite the full Divine Office (allowing substitution of the Little Office of th~ Blessed Virgin Mary, parts only of the Divine Office, or ~ven rosaries and other devotional practices), the jurisdiction of community leaders was made sec-ondary to that of diocesan, bishops (who could, among other things, approve or reject the election of prioresses and the admission of new members--something unheard of, normally, in Benedictinism). Even the simple vows the women now professed wer~ not neces-sarily the Benedictine ones. As Sutera explains, some took the tra-ditional vows, some took the three vows common to other May-June 1999 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? communities (poverty, chastity, obedience), Others took five vows and some four (not stability, because there were rumors that the women were to be reorganized into a large congregation complete with provinces, regional novitiates, and so forth). She summarizes the consequences this way: "What Rome had done was to create a canonical anomaly, a group of unenclosed monastic women who retained the right to the designation of 'O.S.B.' This right implied some recognition that they were nuns of the ancient order rather than sisters of a later congregation despite their simple vows. However, it left them as technically neither one nor the other. [Practically speaking,] they faded into the mass of apostolic orders." 13 Sutera and Hollermann's books, especially, are potent wit-nesses to the extent to which American Benedictines struggled over the following century both to respond 'to the ministerial and apostolic demands placed upon them and to remain as faithful as they could to their Benedictine heritage. Both accounts verify the existence and persistence of Benedictine charism, however "re-visioned" in the American context, despite the many and substan-tial obstacles put in the sisters' way. Thus, when Vatican II came along, with its call for renewal in the spirit of the founders, the Benedictines had a strong foundation on which they could rely. Nonetheless, the disparate experiences of the various autonomous foundations during the years between their foremothers' arrival in the U.S. and the postconciliar period raise important questions about how, and the extent to which, "fidelity to charism" shaped the historical reality of American Benedictine sisters. If one reads the descriptions of them in McCarthy's 1964 compendium, for instance, they seem virtually indistinguishable from the plethora of apostolic institutes that surrounded them.14 "Charisms" Buried, Repudiated, or Denied At least the Benedictines had a strong tradition, never com-pletely lost, that they could revitalize when called to do so by the Second Vatican Council, Others, however, were not so fortunate, The situations of those who chose their traditions randomly, or who were founded for largely instrumental purposes, have already been discussed. But what about those who did have more charismatic founders, whose legacies, for various reasons, were obscured or even rejected? Probably the most famous such case is that of the Institute Review for Religious of the Blessed Virgin Mary, founded by the remarkable Mary Ward in 1609; not until the papacy of Pius XI! were they able to claim her officially as the founder of their congregation. But other instances pertain more directly to the U.S. Catholic experience; here I will refer to just three of them (by no means the only ones). As late as McCarthy's 1964 Guide (p. 317), the sisters founded by Margaret Anna Cusack in 1884 were identified unqualifiedly as the "Sisters of St. Joseph of Newark" and were described as having been founded by "Bishop Bagshawe of Nottingham, England . . . in 1888." Then, we are told, Bishop Michael Wigger of Newark, New Jersey, "received the community into his dio-cese shortly after its establish-ment." The latter sentence, technically, is true, but the foundation was in 1884; by 1888 the controversial Cusack had left both Newark and the Catholic Church. The myth of Bagshawe's role, as well as the rather skewed chronology, evolved largely to bury the fact that this group's founder--a woman who did, I believe, have a charism and who had a very revolutionary vision for her community--was regarded at the time of her death as an "apostate." Dorothy Vidulich has provided a first-rate account of how Cusack's community rediscovered her in the aftermath of Vatican II, officially reclaiming her in 1970 as their founder and reclaiming, too, her original name for the congregation: the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace. Since then, the group has devoted enormous effort to uncovering and taking ownership of her and their charism; nonetheless, the fact that her very connection with the institute was buried for eighty-five years (starting less than four years after it began) makes it difficult to discern the extent to which her charism ever played a meaningful role in its earlier historical expe-rience. Is the identity of this community primarily traceable to Cusack? Or, like an adopted child, must this group, like it or not, acknowledge that other "parents" may actually have been more significant in shaping their ongoing lived reality? 15 American Benedictines struggled both to respond to the ministerial and apostolic demands placed upon them and to remain as faithful as they could to their Benedictine heritage. May-June 1999 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? Which person or persons must be acknowledged as having contributed-- and how--to the congregation's actual history ? The founder of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, of Monroe, Michigan, was never, stricdy speaking, denied; her central role in the congregation's founding was, how.ever, unde-niably minimized and obscured. Theresa Maxis Duchemin was the offspring of an unwed "woman of color." Both her "race" (her mother was an immigrant to the U.S. from what now is known as Haiti) and her "illegitimate" parentage were, of course, problem-atic. So was the fact that she obscured both of them when she came to Michigan in 1845 to found the congregation ("passing" as "white")--in doing so, she left the commu- 'nity she had belonged to since 1829, the Oblate Sisters of Providence. (This group was the first African American con-gregation in the history of Catholicism. Duchemin was one of its first ,four members, its only American-born founder, and was onetime superior gen-eral of it. In the 1830s her mother, too, joined the community.) What perhaps contributed most, however, towards her role in Monroe IHM history becoming "shadowy" were her ongoing con-flict with Edward Joos (an early spiritual father assigned to the congregation by the bishop), her decision to establish a foundation in Pennsylvania (which the bishop did not approve of, and which soon turned into two), her subsequent conflicts with the .authori-tarian bishop of Philadelphia who succeeded Duchemin's beloved John Neumann, and tier resultant eighteen years of exile in Canada, during which she was forbidden contact with any of the three IHM communities she had founded. Eventually Duchemin was allowed to return to the Philadelphia foundation; ironically, however, only the Scranton one has always acknowledged her role in its begin-nings, In Monroe, meanwhile, Mother Mary Joseph Walker, who succeeded Duchemin as superior in 1859, was becoming regarded as the group's "true foundress," while Joos, who served 'as its eccle-siastical superior from 1857 to 1901, was referred to as the "beloved father." 16 How is a grouplike this to return to the "charism of the founder"? Even in the 1990s the Monroe community is ambivalent Review for Religions as to how it should refer to Duchemin: was she their "founder," their "co-founder" (along with Louis Gillet, the Redemptorist who called her to Michigan in 1845 and departed' abruptly two years later), or simply one of the "first four"? What about the "found-ing" and "formative" roles of Walker and, especially, Joos? At the time of the latter's death, his loss was apparently considered so traumatic that the then general superior "had to assure the sisters that it was possible for the congregation to continue without him." True, Margaret Brennan IHM has documented the persistence of certain very specific elements of Duchemin's spiritual legacy, even through the decades when her contribution was denied, but impor-tant questions still remain.~7 As with the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, which person or persons must be acknowledged as having contributed--and how--to the congregation's actual history? "The Most Reverend Archbishop William Gross CSSR of Oregon City founded [the Sisters of St. Mary of Oregon] in Sublimity, Oregon, in 1886 . A vastly scattered flock, with . only a few religious to care for them, made Archbishop Gross determined to establish his own community of sisters."18 It seems a typical 19th-century story; unfortunately, it has almost no basis in reality. The real root of this community is a group of lay peo-ple who more than a decade earlier followed a schismatic priest of the Congregation of the Precious Blood, Charle~ Albrecht, out of Ohio into exile in Wisconsin and Minnesota (where Albrecht died) and then moved (with Albrecht's body) on to rural Oregon. There a young,girl in the group--who had been "bequeathed" to the cultish "trusteeship" of a trio of laymen ("devotees" of Albrecht, whose body during many months after his death,was kept in a cof-fin mounted above the dining table in the group's community room in Minnesota and then, quite ossified, was transported illegally to Oregon)--sought help from some Benedictine monks of Mount Angel Abbey, who put the future Mother Wilhelmina Bleily in touch with Gross, who eventually "regularized" the status of those who sought it and provided official recognition for the "sisters." Shortly thereafter he deposed Wilhelmina from the superiorship to which she had been duly elected, brought in a sister from Wisconsin to provide "formation" for the. community, and reshaped its identity completely. Although the original sisters had retained a strong devotion to the Precious Blood from their Ohio heritage, for instance, Gross refused to allow them to include this in the name of their congregation. By the 1960s, after decades of denial, May-June 1999 9A2 Thompson * Charism or Deep Story? Inappropriate reliance for spiritual grounding upon "a" founder and her or his significance can lead to a spirituality that is static or reactionary. Wilhelmina's contributions had been forgotten (and her diary, which recorded all that had happened, both before 1886 and after, lay gathering dust in the community's attic, not to be rediscov-ered until a new motherhouse was constructed in the 1970s), and the only things that remained from their roots were a red cord (on which they wore a crucifix around their necks) and a vague acknowledgment of a "devotion to the Precious Blood," one among many devotions that had been accepted without explanation for several generations29 More than either of the other two groups dis-cussed. here, the SSMO's decision to bury its past (not to mention Albrecht's body) certainly is understandable. It is also under-standable that, because of their "rescue" from the "trustees" by Gross, this really rather remark-able group has always prided itself on its loyalty to and reverence for the hierarchy. But how to imple-ment that loyalty whe, n the hier-archy charges one with "restoring the founder's charism"? In this case, what are they to do with Albrecht, with the trustees, with years of schismatic and extremely odd cultic spirituality, with the deposing of Wilhelmina, and with the clearly subordinate status that "in gratitude" the SSMOs were expected to tolerate in the Portland Archdiocese for most of the yea.rs of their existence? In this paper I have offered reasons why emphasis on the founder's charism--which has characterized so much of post- Vatican II religious renewal--deserves reexamination regarding its relevance and utility to the histories (and subsequent revitaliza-tions) of many religious congregations. Clearly, in many cases it is not something that can be easily identified, and, in some cases where it can be, that very recognition leads to problems of a dif-ferent sort. I could have discussed other issues as well: that certain congregations owe their origins to groups rather than to individ-uals, that emphasis on "formal" founders (founders who have offi-cial canonical recognition from the [male] prelates charged with 9rid "verifying" the "authenticity" of a congregation, and many of Review for Religiotts whom, for women's congregations, have erroneously been identi-fied as men) tends to obscure the cumulative and ongoing respon-sibilities that all community members have for their collective spirituality, and that inappropriate reliance for spiritual grounding upon "a" founder and her or his significance can lead to a spiritu-ality that is static or reactionary. All of these matters deserve explo-ration; unfortunately, constraints of space in the present circumstances prevent their serious consideration here. What I do offer for present consideration is an alternative approach to "charism" that may prove of value to communities that recognize some of their own histories in what I have been able to include in this essay. It is developed most fully, perhaps, in a 1989 article in Review for Religious by Bernard Lee SM.2° Lee begins with a clear assertion: The "recovery of charism" may be one of the most unsup-portable and unnecessary burdens a religious institution has ever been asked to bear, because it cannot be done. Charism is not a property. It is not a possession. It is not transfer-able, not transmittable, and not controllable. Charism is a deeply historicized social phenomenon. It cannot be dupli-cated in any other time or place. Charism has never been a movable feast. (p. 124) Instead, Lee suggests the notion of "deep story" as an alter-native to the emphasis on charism. He defines this as a category of interpretation that comes out of structuralism, which is a method for interpreting group identity. It pre-supposes that group identity is rooted in a narrative structure, that is, in recurring patterns of relationships and social activ-ities. The narrative structure of any complex and interesting group, however, is extremely elusive because it is instinctual and unconscious even more than it is deliberate and self-conscious . Deep stories are exhibited in rituals that cel-ebrate them (for example, rituals of profession), in special words and phrases that belong especially to them. Stephen Crites says that all of these things are elusive expressions of deep stories (he calls them sacred stories) "that cannot fully be told, because they live, so to speak, in the arms and legs and bellies of the celebrants. These stories lie too deep in the consciousness of a people to be directly told: they form con-sciousness rather than being among the objects of which it is directly aware." (p. 126)z' What Lee intends to suggest by all this, I think, is the con-tinuous and cumulative process of a community's identity forma- Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? tion--its spiritual nature (my term), its history--which, of course, in sacred time and space, encompasses the present and future as much as the past. Thus, to turn to Lee once again, "the founder's or foundress's gift is not a community's charism. The real found-ing gift is a narrative structure that supported and reflected a charismatic event in the foundation's birth, and may do so again" (p. 129). But, as I understand this, it cannot remain static; instead, a "community of memory"--while "creatively rooted" in, or faith-ful to, its deep story--must always be on its way to the realization of a new charismatically gifted reality, one in which all members must participate and assume responsibility. I believe that the notion of deep story--as a paradigm--can help all of us cope with ongoing foundings and refoundings in religious life. Seen as participants in deep story, Wilhelmina Bleily, Charles Albrecht, and William Gross, Theresa Maxis Duchemin and Mary Joseph Walker and Edward Joos, Mary Felicia Jaskulski and Mary Boleslaus Rybicki, Margaret Anna Cusack, Theresia Bonzel, and Clara Pfaender, countless Benedictines, and tens of thousands of others, living and dead, can all find space and be "at home'--not comfortably, perhaps, or e~sily, but the Christian story, the deep story, is never easy or comfortable. It is, however, real, as real as the ongoing spiritual "gift" (dare I, after all this, say "charism"?) that has called so many over the centuries to fol-low the path of religious life. Notes ~ This essay was presented originally at the 1998 History of Women Religious Conference in Chicago. Though not every point is supported by refei'ences, this essay rests upon my decade-long research into the history of American women religious, including work in the archives of about seventy-five congregations and familiarity with virtually all the published materials on this subject, including historical and biographical works on over three hundred individual communities. On the subject of charism, I read all Vatican documents dealing with religious life, as well as approximately three dozen articles directly or indirectly on this sub-ject that have appeared in Review for Religious (U.S.A.) and Religious Life Review (Ireland). Many of the incidents and ideas recounted here are developed more fully in some of my previous publications; see, in par-ticular, "Discovering Foremothers: Sisters; Society, and the American Catholic Experience," U.S. Catholic Historian 5 (Summer/Autumn 1986): 273-290; "To Serve the People of God: Nineteenth-Century Sisters and the Creation of an American Catholic Religious Life," Cushwa Center Working Papers, Series 18, no. 2 (1986); "Women and American Review for Religious Catholicism, 1789-1989," in Perspectives on the Catholic Church in America, 1789-1989, ed. Virgina Geiger and Stephen Vicchio (Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1989), pp. 123-142; "Sisterhood and Power: Class, Culture, and Ethnicity in the American Convent," Colby Library Quarterly 25 (1989): 149-175; "Women, Feminism, and the New Religious History: Catholic Sisters as a Case Study," in Belief and Behavior: Essays in the New Religious History, ed. Philip VanderMeer and Robert Swierenga (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1991), pp. 136-163;."Cultural Conundrum: Sisters, Ethnicity, and the Adaptation of American Catholicism," Mid-America 74 (1992): 205-230; "The Validation of Sisterhood: Canonical Status and Liberation in the History of American Nuns," in A Leaf of the Great Tree of God: Essays in Honor of Ritamary Bradley SFCC, ed. Margot H. King (Toronto: Peregrina Publishing Co., 1994), pp. 38-78; and "Concentric Circles of Sisterhood," in Building Sisterhood: A Feminist History of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1997), pp. 1-21. For their insights into this subject, I offer my thanks to Ritamary Bradley SFCC, Thomas J. Costello, Barbara Garland SC, James Hennesey SJ, Mary Ann Hinsdale IHM, Elizabeth A. West ICM, and many of the participants in the Sister-L internet discussion group 2 In this, SCRIS reiterates a point made in a document it issued five years earlier, Mutuae relationes: "Bishops, in union with the Roman pon-tiff, receive from Christ the head the duty (see LG §21) of discerning gifts and competencies, of coordinating multiple energies, and of guid-ing the entire people in living in the world as a sign and instrument of salvation. They, therefore, are also entrusted with the duty of caring for religious chariSms" (§9); and "It is .the duty of bishops as authentic teach-ers and guides of perfection for all the members of the diocese (see CD §§12; 15; 35, 2; and LG §§25, 45) to be the guardians likewise of fidelity to the religious vocation in the spirit of each institute . Bishops, along with their clergy, should be. firm guardians of the specific character of each religious family both in the spiritual and in the apostolic field" (§28). These passages, as well as that from EssentialElements (§41), raise some serious questions about the autonomy and integrity of religious charisms, since the implication is that they cannot be presumed to exist "authentically" until those in (external) hierarchical authority say they exist. Certainly, this is a matter deserving of substantial Consideration; but, unfoi'tunately, that is outside the scope of this paper. 3 Wilfrid Harrington, "Charism," in A New Dictionary of Theology, ed. Joseph A. Komonchak et al. (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1987), p. 180; The HarperCollins Encyclopedia of Catholicism, ed. Richard E McBrien (HarperSanFrancisco, 1989), pp. 299-300. 4 These figures, as well as information included in Table 1, are derived from a detailed listing of all Catholic women's apostolic communities that I have located to date that existed in the United States between 1727 and 1917. Included in this list are com.munities which, for most or all of their existence, engaged in some form of active ministry. Thus, for May-June 1999 247 24S Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? instance, contemplative Benedictines are omitted, as are purely contem-plative Visitation monasteries. In compiling these data, principal sources were: Elinor Tong Dehey, Religious Orders of Women in the United States, rev. ed. (Hammond, Indiana, 1930); Joan M. Lexau, Convent Life: Roman Catholic Religious Orders for Women in North America (New York, 1964), pp. 209-387 (Index of Orders); and Evangeline Thomas, Women Religious History Sources: A Guide to Repositories in the United States (New York, 1983), pp. 169-176 (Table of U.S. Founding Dates). Some information came from other sources, which are identified on the comprehensive list in my possession. s In that respect, they bear a similarity to the rest of the 149 U.S. con-gregations that have more individualized origins and have "founders" that they share, if at all, with only a handful of others. I shall return a bit later to the question of charism as it affects them. 6 All eight of the first indigenous communities of women studied by Barbara Misner in her landmark work, "Highly Respectable and Accomplished Ladies": Catholic Women Religious in America, 1790-18Y0 (New York: Garland, 1988), devoted most or all of their early ministerial energies to teaching. So did the vast majority of foundations initiated from abroad-- including the first in what is now the United States, the New Orleans Ursulines (founded in 1727). By 1884 the U.S. bishops, gathered at the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore and extremely concerned about "leak-age" from the faith, paid tribute to the success of these pioneers (and to their belief that the education of youth was the best way to keep people within the church) by their declaration that every parish in the country should establish at least one school within the next two years. That, in turn, increased the demand for religious teachers (the overwhelming majority of them women, and sisters), just as the "new immigration" (c. 1880-1917) from heavily Catholic eastern and southern Europe was get-ting underway. See also Gerald Shaughnessy, Has the Immigrant Kept the Faith? (New York: Macmillan, 1925); "The Pastoral Letter of 1884," in The National Pastorals of the American Hierarchy (1792-1919), ed. Peter Guilday (Washington, D.C.: National Catholic Welfare Council, 1923), pp. 280-282; Thompson, "Women and American Catholicism," p. 125. 7 This Guide (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1964) appeared in six editions, the first in 1952 and the last in 1966. The 1964 edition was selected for use here because it appeared only one year before Perfectae caritatis called upon religious to renew themselves "in the spirit of their founders," thereby initiating the whole postconciliar emphasis on "charism." It should be noted that McCarthy acquired his information from the communities; therefore, these are the founding stories that the sisters themselves had identified and transmit-ted to him for inclusion. s I have written extensively elsewhere about the fact that many of these stories bear little or no resemblance to reality. That is, communi-ties which traditionally cited clerics as founders have, since Vatican II, in quite a number of cases, identified and reclaimed women as their prin- Review for Religious cipal initiators. Nevertheless, we cannot dismiss the significance of these founding stories (often recounted and thereby reinforced for several gen-erations) either. Whether or not men actually took the principal initia-tive in founding particular communities, it did affect the self-understandings of hundreds of sisters who were taught, and who believed, that the men had done so. 9 William Humphrey SJ, Elements of Religious Life, 2nd ed. (London: Thomas Baker, 1903), p. 164. 10 p. Lothar Hardick OFM, He Leads, I Follow: The Life of Mother Maria Theresia Bonzel, Foundress of the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration, trans. Sisters M. Honora Hau and M. Clarahilda Fischer (Colorado Springs, I971), pp. 23, 30-31, 185-186. Ironically, perhaps, Pfaender later separated and founded her own religious congregation, which also was Franciscan (known in the U.S. as the Wheaton [Illinois] Franciscans): M. Brunilde Probst, The Burning Seak Mother Mary Clara Pfaender, 1827- 1882 (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1960). n The founding of the community is recounted in great detail in Vol. 1 of Josephine Marie Peplinski SSJ-TOSF, A Fitting Response: The History of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Third Order of St. Francis (South Bend, Indiana: priv. pub., 1982, 1992); material here is taken specifically from Vol. 2, pp. ix, 49-50, 239 (italics in the original). Jaskulski was superior general for 1902-1908, 1918-1928, 1940-1942 (when she died); Rybicki was superior general for 1908-1918. Both were perpetually in leader-ship, either as head of the congregation or on its council, from its foun-dation until their deaths (Ryb!cki died in 1926); their lives, spiritualities, and contrasting administrations are described meticulously in chapters 1, 4, and 5 of Vol. 2. I also have written about the SSJ-TOSF story; see esp. "Sisterhood and Power" and "Cultural Conundrum" (see note 1). 12Judith Sutera OSB, True Daughters: Monastic Identity and American Benedictine Women's History (Atchison: priv. pub., 1987); M. Incarnata Girgen, Behind the Beginnings (St. Joseph, Minnesota: priv. pub., 1981); Ephrem Hollermann, The Reshaping of a Tradition: American Benedictine Women, 1852-1881 (Vv'inona: St. Mary's Press, 1994). ~3 Sutera, True Daughters, esp. chaps. 4-5 and pp. 38, 42, 53-56. 14 McCarthy, 1964 Guide, pp. 195-197. ,s Dorothy A. Vidulich, Peace Pays a Price: A Study of Margaret Anna Cusack, the Nun ofKenmare, 2nd ed. (Washington, D.C., priv. pub., 1990; orig. 1975); see also Irene Ffrench Edgar, Margaret Anna Cusack (Dublin: Women's Press, 1979); Margaret Anna Cusack, The Nun of Kenmare: An Autobiography (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1891). 16 The Monroe IHM story is told in fascinating detail throughout Building Sisterhood (see note 1, above); see, in particular, Marita-Constance Supan IHM, "Dangerous Memory: Mother M. Theresa Maxis Duchemin and the Michigan Congregation of the Sisters, IHM," pp. 31-67; Suzanne Fleming IHM, "She Who Remained: Mother Mary Joseph Walker and the 'Refounding' of the IHM Congregation," pp. 69-92; and Thompson, May-Jutte 1999 Thompson ¯ Cbarinn or Deep Story? "Concentric Circles," esp. pp. 5-8, and "Part l:The Context," pp. 25-28. L7 Fleming, "She Who Remained," p. 91; Margaret Brennan IHM, "'No Two Exactly Alike': IHM Spirituality," in Building Sisterhood, pp. 95-109; see also Rosalita Kelly IHM, No Greater Service: The History of the Congregation of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (Monroe: priv. pub., 1948), esp. p. 132. L8 McCarthy, 1964 Guide, p. 325. ~9 The SSMO story is told with honesty in Wilfred P. Schoenberg SJ, These Valiant Women: History of the Sisters of St. Mary of Oregon, 1886- 1986 (Portland: priv. pub., 1986)~ I also have read Wilhelmina's diary in the SSMO archives, Beaverton, Oregon. Three of the original members of the Ohio group left it during the days in Wisconsin and became found-ing members in 1869 (one of them first superior when the group was of officially established) of the Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity in Manitowoc; see M, Teresita Kit~:ell OSF, Refining His Silver: Pioneer Days of the Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity, Manitowoc, Wisconsin, 1866- 1911 (Manitowoc: priv. pub., 1979). This, among other things, serves to document the length of time that the: schismatic "cult" was in existence before the SSMO's "founding" in 1886. 20 Bernard Lee SM, "A Socio-Historical Theology of Charism," Review for Religious 48, no. 1 (1989): 124-135; see also Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "Befriending the Wind," Review for Religious 53, no. 6 (1994): esp. p. 811. n See also Stephen Crites, "The Narrative Quality of Experience," Journal of the American Academy of Religion 39 (1971). Open Wounds Be bold, twin brother. Probe the wounds doubt demands to see. The gash is but entrance to his heart. Pry it wide to penetrate the core. Review for Religious Demand and desire, too, are twins that seek to let his hallowed, hollow hands transform old hurts to quiet awe. , ~Eugene Cartier ELIZABETH McDONOUGH The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative Comments I n the United States the precipitous decline in numbers of postolic women religious since Vatican Council II will surely have far-reaching consequences for all segments of the church as the third millennium begins. Church-related educational and healthcare institutions will probably continue to be transferred to nonecclesial and sometimes for-profit auspices, and many Catholics may grow up unaware that apostolic congregations of women reli-gious exist as ways of life that could have appealed to them. ~ Recently, in commenting on the years of renewal in religious life since Vatican II, Sister Doris Gottemoeller RSM noted that "for the most part we have not identified and reflected on the learnings" from this experience and that "critical reflection on our present reality" has been lacking.1 She is currently president of the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas, is a recent past president of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), was a participant in the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life, and is one of the original members of the Catholic Common Ground Initiative. Her comments may represent a pivotal change in perspective by someone in an influential leadership position. And, since critical self-appraisal has been neither prevalent nor popular among American women religious since Vatican II, her comments may also represent a significant change at this time. Elizabeth McDonough OP has written the Canonical Counsel column in this journal since our issue of July-August 1990 and has contributed several other articles as well. Her address is P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. ,~'h~y-~une 1999 McDonougb * The Need for Self-Criticism Though voices of criticism have consistently been raised about the postconciliar renewal efforts of religious life--by members of the hierarchy, by diocesan and religious clergy, by lay people, and by sisters themselves--critical reflection from without or from within has frequently been openly excluded Or quietly ignored in many, and perhaps most, women's apostolic communities. Over the years, members of women's religious communities have, in both speech and writing, lodged various objections to the general direction the path of postconciliar change was taking, a path that people now see as leading to pos-sible demise. The objections made over the years concerned, among other matters, the tendency towards having women religious governed by groups or by intermediate administrative personnel rather than by specific individuals elected to particular offices; the steady move-ment towards (so-called) total-participation chapters, which fre-quently exclude actual participation for many sisters; the general abandonment of easily recognizable identity symbols, along with the failure to maintain various community practices that many found meaningful; the increased use of open placement regarding sisters' employment, with the concomitant results of expanded apostolic diversity, an inability of congregations to make or meet institutional commitments, and the lessening of opportunities for community living. But in many women's congregations such objec-tions have not been well received by leadership or by segments of the membership. Moreover, although explicit internal objections regarding prevalent renewal patterns seem to have diminished over the years and to be somewhat rare now, it seems that members who still wish to embrace a renewed but traditional form of religious life (and who may be in their sixties, seventies, or even eighties) now channel their efforts elsewhere because of their experience of func-tional or systematic exclusion from effecting changes in internal governance. Many now direct their energies to living the remain-ing years of their vowed life by witnessing simply to the values they have consistently embraced but felt circumstantially unable to practice during much of the course of renewal. That is, they now consciously seek opportunities to live in common, to share com-munity prayer, and to minister in an apostolate traditionally related to their charism. Meanwhile, younger members--that is, mem-bers mostly under fifty--have initiated regular intra- and inter- Review for Religious congregational gatherings and networking in search of mutual sup-port and deeper religious meaning. Regarding various community renewal policies and proce-dures, then, numbers of community members have voiced explicit criticism--and by their practice have made some implicit criticism unmistakably clear too. Beyond this criticism arising from within apostolic communities of women religious, critical assessments have come also from people outside these communities. These assess-ments have been met with a similar pattern of rejection. Comments that even border on being critical have been categorically discountenanced as arising variously from arrogant, intemperate, shallow, uninformed, traditionalist, or ignorant sources. Criticism from the hierarchy and diocesan clergy seems often to have been excluded because they are regarded as hopelessly embedded in patriarchy. Criticism from religious priests seems to have been judged unacceptable because they are con-sidered to be unduly influenced by their experience of clerical advantage. And criticism from lay people seems to have been readily rejected because many of them are viewed as harboring unrealistic expectations of a lifestyle in which they do not share. Indeed, a pattern of negative reaction to critical assessmentsof what has happened since Vatican II is evident in responses to a recent article concerning possible causes for the current dearth of religious vocations in some communi-ties) It often appears that only certain internal, ostensibly self-perpetuating authorities or select special-interest groups are judged as adequately expressing the renewa! process among women reli-gious. Any suggestion from any source that any viable religious life in the future might diverge from the direction envisioned by the prevailing progressive model seems to be all too readily con-sidered as patently reactionary, as categorically negative, as arro-gantly uninformed, as judgmentally ignoring women's unique lived Any suggestion from any source that any viable religious life in the future might diverge from the direction envisioned by the prevailing progressive model seems to be all too readily considered as patently reactionary. ;'~,lay-JuJle 1999 254 McDonough ¯ The Need for Self-Criticism experience, as unfairly critical, or as an emotionally immature attachment to a former way of life) Furthermore, as postconciliar renewal has continued, it is not only critical observations that have been shunned .by women reli-gious in this country. Significant research data and pointed rec-ommendations from comprehensi'be sociological studies have also been embraced only selectively and implemented only sporadi-cally. Results from the ongoing, multifaceted, and controversial "Sisters' Survey"--as formulated and conducted under the direc-tion of sociologist Marie Augusta Neal SNDdeN--were systemat-ically distributed to participating congregations, published in several books~ and regularly reported at national meetings of major superiors from 1967 through the late 1980s. In stark contrast, amazingly little attention has been given to the more recent findings of psychologists David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CgJ. These researchers surprised participants at a 1992 Chicago workshop when, in presenting data from their study on the Future of Religious Orders in the United States (abbreviated as FORUS), they announced that many religious communities in this country had only a "ten-year window" in which to alter the present course of decline if they wished to perdure many years into the third millennium. The conferences of major superiors (CMSM and LCWR) were directly involved in the planning and execution of the FORUS study, which rendered some startling results about reli-gious in the United States. Included in these discoveries were. a lack of role clarity among religious (especially in apostolic groups of women), a high degree of cultural assimilation by religious, a general ministerial invisibility of religious, a relative dearth of effec-tive leadership in most religious communities, an apparently less-ened inclination to sacrifice among religious, and a widespread loss of institutional commitments by religious congregations.4 More than half a decade has passed since Nygren and Ukeritis projected that there was only a "ten-year window" of opportunity for the viability of religious institutes in America. During this time the FORUS findings seem to have gone largely unheeded or to have been relegated to convenient oblivion. Could it be that this study was greeted with a less than enthusiastic response precisely because its findings were unpopular among the group being assessed? For, indeed, the FORUS results did not shower unbounded accolades on the postconciliar transformation of reli-gious life in America; did not unquestioningly advocate contin- Review for Religious ued pursuit of the progressive model of renewal, and did not offer unrestrained optimism for the future prospects of religious insti-tutes. Or could it be that the FORUS findings, perceived as being all too accurate, were simply too painful to accept and conse-quently were met with at least unconscious denial at individual and collective levels in most congregations, particularly those of women religious? Over the years, religious in several areas of expertise have also sounded calls for critical reassessment of current practices in light of the manifest patterns of continuing decline in religious institutes. These calls, too, seem largely unheeded. The historical and sociological analyses of Raymond Fitz SM and Lawrence Cada SM, which appeared in the mid 1970s, got little attention after several months of popular discussion. Their work said quite clearly that probably only a small fraction of the then extant communi-ties would successfully negotiate post- Vatican renewal efforts,s Might the brief notice that Fitz and Cada's anal-yses received.be due, at least in part, to their intimation that religious con-gregations over the centuries have had identifiable lifespans, that many con-gregations did not last long after a per-vasive experience of absolute doubt regarding purpose, and that this seemed to be precisely the situa-tion at that time for thousands of religious in America? In 1983 CARA (Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate) in Washington, D.C., published a translation of the 1972 land-mark monograph of Raymond Hostie SJ, Vie et mort des ordres religieux, on which the Fitz and Cada material was directly based.6 The introduction to this booklet, by historian Dolores Liptak RSM, explains its significance, its application to ~enewal among American religious and specifically women religious. But this, too, appears to have received only scant attention within women's communities in the United States. All through the early 1990s, Eleace King IHM, of CAR& pub-lished data about--and reasons for--the steady decline in voca- Religious in several areas of expertise have also sounded calls for critical reassessment of current practices in light of the manifest patterns of continuing decline in religious institutes. 255 May-,]une 1999 McDonougb * The Need for Self-Criticism tions to progressively oriented communities along with parallel data about the constant flow of vocations to traditional groups.7 Little note, however, has been taken of these results. At the beginning of this decade, David O'Connor ST offered a balanced and readable summary of the various cultura!, eccle-sial, theological, and ideological shifts that may be contributing to the (possible) disappearance of many religious institutes in this country; but his work is rarely cited or even referenced in reli-gious- life circles.8 In 1991 I myself published what the editor of America magazine referred to as a "trenchant critique" of the then prevailing trends in religious life, while the editor of First Things described it as "a first-rate analysis of what has gone awry in the many worlds of American religion."9 This analysis and critique received an overwhelming positive response from members of reli-gious communities around the world, but it was simultaneously greeted with resounding silence from those in leadership. Albert DiIanni SM has offered thoughtful considerations based on his experience of the renewal of religious life as it currently relates to religion, to modernity, to modern psychology, to com-munity, to decreasing vocations, and to certain laicizing trends in the post-Vatican II era; but his observations have been met with either studied unconcern or strident rejectionJ° And little heed has been paid to the recent, assessment of sociologist Patricia Wittberg SC that the future of most religious communities is severely limited--if not rather bleak---precisely because a coinci-dence of internal and external factors has resulted in a collapse of their ideological framework and a lessening or elimination of their functional supports.~ Regarding postconciliar religiousqife trans-formation, are only laudatory comments able to be perceived as having any meaning and value for communities of women reli-gious in America today? In many of these communities, a pattern of dismissing with studied disdain or even open derision any factual data that leads to disconcerting conclusions about their lives has been ill too evi-dent in the response to Ann Carey's recent book, a book (widely conceded to be well documented) that details decisions and actions taken in the decades since Vatican II within the conference of major superiors for women's institutes.~2 Note, hbwever, that Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN published a book earlier in the decade that traced precisely the same era of transi-tion and detailed most of the same topics, but from a different Review for Religious perspective and with less specific documentation.13 In contrast to Carey's work, the Quifionez-Turner book was well received and has been highly touted as an accurate portrait of renewal. Yet both books present renewal as deliberately intended and carefully planned. Both books address the influence of cultural context, the impa6t of the Sisters' Survey, the effect of feminist initiatives, the disruption from internal conference conflicts, the consequences of hierarchic confrontations, and other such topics in reference to postconciliar religious life. Both books name those who were instrumental in the renewal process at national and local levels in this country. And the authors of both books offer assessments of what has actually occurred. Could the disparity in recep-tion of these two works be due at least in part to the fact that the Quifionez- Turner book evaluates these happen-ings positively while the Carey book views the results as more than slightly wide of the mark envisioned by Perfectae caritatis? To be sure, journalist Carey is a laywoman who judged the evidence she amassed as anything but complimen-tary to the renewal process and those who directed it, and she called for critical reassessment of renewal results. On the other hand, Quifionez and Turner are women religious--both former executive secretaries of LCWR and both instrumental in effecting the postconciliar transformation--who judged the results thus far as entirely positive and urged further development along the same course of renewal. It is a truism of historical scholarship that those attempting an analysis of a set of events need a realistic broad familiarity with the historical context. But does this explain why the perspective on religious-life renewal presented by those who guided it should so readily be judged more accurate or more objective or more accept-able than the perspective of someone who has carefully pored over official documentation and verifiable data and has her own lived familiarity with post-Vatican II renewal? Could it be that negative assessments of religious-life renewal from whatever source are Could it be that negative assessments of religious-life renewal from whatever source are simply unacceptable to women religiousm for whatever reason ? 257 May-June 1999 McDonougb ¯ The Need for Self-Criticism t_g_ 1 simply unacceptable to women religious--for whatever reason? For an explanation of the present situation of decline and demise, are many women religious simply incapable of looking further than a speculatively fascinating and vaguely consoling convergence of sociological circumstances that impact religious life fr0m outside? Is none of the decline and demise of the past thirty-three years attributable to decisions made and actions taken within religious communities? Have dispersed ministries and secular attire (with lapel pins) and apartment living had absolutely no detrimental effect, whether expected or not? Are women religious able to look at none of the above? And, if so, why? Though the suggestion made ten years ago by sociologist Wittberg that the behavioral patterns among congregations of women religious might "actually be dysfunctional for organiza-tional survival" appears to have been effectively ignored, it may well identify a pertinent reality that needs to be at least acknowl-edged- if not directly addressed--by religious congregations of women today.14 And perhaps women religious would also do well to attend to the warning, offered in 1988 by psychologist Donna Markham OP, that the positive perception they had of themselves did not match the perception of others--something that did not bode well for vocations.~s Indeed, with rare exception, vocations have declined steadily throughout the decade since Markham's observation, and in most communities of apostolic women reli-gious the median age has gradually increased. " True enough, religious life is not merely a functional institu-tion, and it certainly ought not to be reduced to a numbers game. But is it unrealistic to suggest that a minimal number of members is needed for a community to perdure, to serve effectively, and to hand on a religious tradition? And, when women religious look over their shoulder for younger women walking in their footsteps and see no one there, is it really unfair to surmise that what they have been fashioning since Vatican II may not be a viable form of future religious life after all? Or, again, when congregations begin realistically to project that by the year 2010 fewer than ten percent of their members will be under sixty-five years of age, is it unduly critical to suggest that someone somewhere somehow may have made some decision(s) in the three-plus decades of post-Vatican II renewal that ought seriously to be reassessed and perhaps even altered? I think not. Review for Religious Indeed, on the part of women religious in America (and per-haps elsewhere in the world, too), some possibly difficult but gen-uinely constructive self-criticism and some corrective change of course in various aspects of postconciliar renewal ought to be hon-esdy welcomed.'6 And both may be long overdue, because the real-ity at issue has import far beyond the ever-dwindling numbers of ever-aging apostolic women religious themselves. Notes 1 Doris Gottemoeller, "Religious Life: Where Does It Fit in Today's Church?" in Review for Religious 57, no. 3 (March-April 1998): 146- 160. 2 Albert Dilanni, "A View of Religious Vocations," America 178, no. 6 (28 February 1998): 8-12. 3 See various responses to the Dilanni article (note 2 above) among letters to the editor in the March and early April issues of 1998. 4 David J. Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis, "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary," Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55; also. Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272. s Lawrence Cada and Raymond Fitz, "The Recovery of Religious Life," Review for Religious 34, no. 5 (September-October 1975): 690-718. 6 Raymond Hostie, /,qe et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Descl~e, 1972), translated for a limited English edition as The Life and Death of Religious Orders (Washington, D.C.: CAP, A, 1983). 7 See the CARA Formation Directory for Men and Women Religious (Washington, D.C.: CARA) as edited by Eleace King IHM for the years 1991, 1992, 1993, and 1994-1995. s David O'Connor, Witness and Service (New York: Paulist Press, 1990), pp. 145-162. 9 See, respectively, Elizabeth McDonough, "Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis?" Review for Religious 50, no. 3 (March-April 1991): 178-188; editorial in America for 13 July 1991; and "The Public Square," First Things, no. 17 (November 1991). ,0 Albert DiIanni, Religious Life as Adventure (New York: Alba House, 1994). " Patricia Wittberg, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders (New York: SUNY Press, 1994). ,2 Ann Carey, Sisters in Crisis (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor, 1997). ,3 Lora Ann Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). ,4 Patricia Wittberg, "Outward Orientation in Declining 259 May-June 1999 McDonough ¯ The Need for Self-Criticism Organizations: Reflections on LCWR Documents," in Claiming Our Truth, ed. Nadine Foley (Washington, D.C.: LCWR, 1988), pp, 91-105. 15 Donna Markham, "The Decline of Vocations in the United States: Reflections from a Psychological Perspective," New Catholic World 231, no. 1381 (January-February 1988): 13-17. 16 See, for example, the recent comments of Doris Gottemoeller, "Religious Life in Crisis," Origins 28, no. 36 (25 February 1999): 634- 638. The Treasure Long ago a rainbow arc'd my storm-tossed sky, and the pot of gold I found then is still bottomless. Since that serendipitous moment, faith has claimed its reality. I see with clarity--over the clouds, beyond the rains--that joy and pain alike qualify to mine the treasure, provide the coin to buy the Kingdom, here on the green earth for a time, and there in the meadows of Eternity. Anna Marie Mack SSJ Review for Religious LARRY N. LORENZONI The Annuario Pontificio The Vatican's "Pontifical Yearbook" and a Recent Editorial Decision Fourteen years ago the Religious Life Review, edited in Dublin by Father Austin Flannery OP, published an arti-cle with the catchy title "The Single Sex Church of the Annuario Pontificio." Its opening paragraphs noted the almost total absence of women's names in the church's official directory. The same article was later reprinted in Sisters Today with a milder title: "The Annuario Pontificio and Women in the Church." The Annuario Pontificio is the 4.25"-by-6.5" 2500- page yearbook of the Roman Catholic Church. Bound in red cloth with a golden papal coat of arms on the cover, it contains annually updated information about the College of Cardinals, all archbishops and bishops (with basic facts about their respective dioceses), all prelates and abbots, the secretariat of state, the Roman tribunals, congregations, councils, and commissions, the Vatican Library, the church's worldwide diplomatic representa-tives (nuncios and pronuncios), all the ambassadors accredited to the Holy See, the administration of Vatican City, all officially approved religious orders of men and Larry N. Lorenzoni SDB, a Salesian priest, served in the late 1980s as director of the documentation, information, and press office of Caritas Internationalis in Rome. Currently director of development for his province, he may be addressed at Salesians of St. John Bosco; 1100 Franklin Street; San Francisco, California 94109. 1999 261 A former noteworthy feature of the Annuario was the almost total absence of females in its pages. 262 Lorenzoni ¯ Tlse Annuario Pontifido of women, academies, atheneums, pontifical universities (six: Gregoriana, Lateranense, Urbaniana, San Tommaso d'Aquino [Angelicum], Salesiana, and the new Santa Croce), a number of seminaries and colleges, and various other institutes and cultural organizations. The Annuario closes with a hundred pages of historical notes and six hundred pages of alphabetical lists: names of all the dio-ceses, prelatures~ and titular dioceses (in their Latin adjectival form, Latin noun form, and modern Roman-alphabet form) and the names and page references of some 25,000 persons. It is a fascinat-ing book. Of the 151 living cardinals listed in the 1997 Annuario (to cite a rather significant fact one can easily cull from its pages), 4 were created by Pope John xxIII, 31 by Paul vI, and 116 by Pope John Paul II. A former noteworthy feature of the Annuario--it used to distinguish it from virtually eve .ry other directory in the world--was the almost total absence of females in its pages. The alpha-betical list at the end of the directory was conse-quently 99.99 percent male. Historical, doctrinal, and traditional considerations are essential for a proper understanding of this situation. One page from the 1985 article (in RLR) found its way to the Vatican underground and quickly became the subject of some interesting conversa-tions during my four years (1986-1990) at Caritas Internationalis, the church's worldwide charity wing. In the penthouses of Palazzo San Callisto, where the Caritas offices are located (near Santa Maria in Trastevere), lived a number of active and retired cardinals (Roger Etchegaray, Bernardin Gantin, Paul Poupard, Ferdinando Antonelli, Francesco Carpino, and Francis Arinze). I came to know best Cardinal Francis Arinze, from Nigeria, the genial president of the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue. Occasionally I see him mentioned among the papabili and featured as a speaker on Mother Angelica's EWTN television programs. He is keenly intelligent and friendly, a good listener, articulate and ever an opti-mist. Open to new ideas, he weighs carefully all arguments against the truths of the faith and then follows them courageously t6 their logical conclusions. I remember in particular one conversation I had with him at Review for Religious Palazzo San Callisto, a conversation occasioned by some para-graphs from that December 1985 article (of mine) in RLR, which some friend had shared with him. The paragraphs are these: One glaring lacuna [in the Annuario Pontificio] is hard to understand, and even harder to accept, because of the anger it is likely to provoke today when everyone is being increas-ingly sensitized against all kinds of discrimination. I am refer-ring to the omission of the names of the superiors general of women religious where the individual congregations are listed with the address of the generalate and current information as to the number of foundations and of professed members. .This anomaly came to my attention when I needed to check the spelling of the name of the new mother general of our Salesian sisters. I had just looked up the name of the superior general of the Fathers of Mercy (whose ad I had seen in The Wanderer), so I turned instinctively to the Annuario for the answer to my question. It was not as sim-ple as I thought. For every male congregation, the name of the superior general is invariably given (and, in 99 percent of the cases, also that of the procurator general). One learns, for instance, that the Very Rev. John O'Brien is the superior general of the Fathers of Mercy (an order founded in 1808), even though the order has only seven members worldwide. Fifty-four religious orders of men have less than I00 pro-fessed members, seven have 25 or fewer, but in each case the name of the general is prominently displayed. I was chagrined to discover that in the case of the orders and congregations of women one looks in vain in the Annuario for the names of the mothers general. Some 120 of those congregations have a membership of over 1000 sis-ters. In vain did I look for the name of the superior general of the Salesian sisters, even though the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians, as they are officially known, have a worldwide membership of nearly 18,000. They are the sec-ond largest congregation of women in the church, after the 34,000 Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul. Such a discriminatory omission tends to reinforce all the worst stereotypes one hears about the institutional church and its treatment of women, since it conveys a number of admittedly unintentional but nonetheless inescapable mes-sages: (1) Women are of little consequence in the church. (2) The father superior of ten men is more important than the mother superior of I0,000 women. (3) Names of females, no matter how important, need not be listed in the Annuario because the church does not discuss matters of consequence with them anyway. (4)Male religious superiors are routinely consulted, and hence it is necessary to have their names listed May-June 199.9 Lorenzoni ¯ The AnnuarioPontificio in the Annuario, but listing the flames of the superiors gen-eral of women does not serve any useful purpose since very rarely does one need to know who they are and even less deal or correspond with them. (5) Sisters are supposed to accept obediently and without too many questions whatever Holy Mother Church says. Unfortunately, in the thinking of many, Holy Mother Church is often equated with male power structure. No dissenting voice was heard from those who had joined our conversation. Both retired Cardinal Francesco Carpino (a man of rare nobility, who died 5 October 1993) and Cardinal Francis Arinze agreed that the Annuario should at long last join the mod-ern age and list the names of women religious superiors alongside those of their male counterparts. But Rome moves slowly. The 16 December 1994 issue of Commonweal carried this item under its Et Cetera rubric: Speaking in support of requests by women's religious orders for an end to discrimination by the church against women, Archbishop Maurice Couture of Quebec pointed to the 1993 Vatican Yearbook (Annuario Pontificio); it lists the names of the superiors general of all institutes of men, but none of the names of the superiors general of women (Origins, November 3). Good for the archbishop, but he's ten years late. Writing in Religious Life Review for November-December 1985, our correspondent Larry Lorenzoni SDB [Correspondence, November 18] recalled turning to the Annuario to find the name of the superior general of the Fathers of Mercy, an order founded in 1808 which has seven members worldwide. The name was there: the Very Rev. John O'Brien. He also looked for the name of the superior general of the Salesian sisters, the second largest congregation of women in the church: nearly 18,000 members. No name. Some of the mes-sages conveyed (Father Lorenzoni, a kind man, says they are "admittedly unintentional but nonetheless inescapable"): "Women are of little consequence in the church; the father superior of ten men is more important than the mother supe-rior of 10,000 women; there's no point in publishing the names of women superiors because who needs to know them." I have before me the 1997 edition of the Annuario Pontificio. I see with some personal satisfaction that each religious congrega-tion of women now routinely carries, as an additional entry, the name of the mother general. The change can safely be labeled "routine" since it started with the Annuario's 1996 edition. Review for Religious No doubt, some gentle nudging by a few highly placed mem-bers of the College of Cardinals, as well as by bishops convinced that the previous practice was clearly discriminatory, helped level the field. Word eventually reached the offices of the Vatican sec-retariat of state, on which the Annuario Pontificio depends, and suitable action followed with the publication of the 1996 edition. A recent phone call to the secretariat of state enabled me to reach Angela Zanetti, a most personable and knowlegeable lady who was for twenty-six years connected with the production of the Annuario. Her new supervisor, Monsignore Fermenti, intro-duced her to me as a "walking encyclopedia on the history of the Annuario Pontificio." Here are some interesting facts from our con-versation: ¯ The first list of male religious orders (Istituti Mascbili) appeared in the 1838 edition of the Annuario. ¯ The first list of female religious orders (Istituti Femminih) appeared 98 years later, in the 1940 edition, without the name of the mother general. ¯ The two lists continued to be published (Ordini Mascbili first, Ordini Femminili second) in the years following, each order of men shouting prominently the name of the general, each order of women lacking that particular information. * At last, in the 1996 edition, for the very first time, the information concerning each religious order of women included also the name of the mother general, as had previously been done for even the smallest reli-gious orders of men. I am reminded of what Pat Paulsen, the late tongue-in-cheek presidential candidatei once said with his usual aplomb: "No one should be denied equal rights because of the shape of their skin." Subs'criptions to Review for Religious can flow b~ ordered,or renewedoby FAX; and paid forby Ma~terCard ~o'r Visd. FA~ the order form inside the back cover, or cALL our o~c~ ~wi~ "th your credit card number: IF~: 31z~-977~7362 0, ~'HONE: 314-977-7363 1999 JOAN A. RANGE Women and Canon Law Cbanon law, as a support for the life of the community of elievers, that is, the church, has a history almost as old as the community itself. Over the centuries, its formulation has not been the work of women, a fact that is readily understandable. Women did not have the status nor society the liberality for that kind of contribution. Women were, however, a vital part of the church and society: in the church as members of the various ordines that supported the living community and in society as wives and mothers2 History witnesses to this fact and those roles. Women's lives, moreover, were guided by the protection, pre-scriptions, and sanctiohs of the church's law. In church courts of the ¯ Middle Ages, women were parties to suits brought against alleged violations and also were sued for alleged violations of others' rights. The activity of women in the world of canon law is well attested to in the church's history.2 But as members who formulated the law or who addressed the church's courts (defending others or doing advocate work for oth-ers) or judged cases (even as collegiate judges), all this women never did until this century. In this century women have performed all these functions in their own right as members of the church and as canon lawyers. The future is clear for their continued func-tioning to be even more vigorous. This rather astonishing fact needs consideration. Given the absence of women in all these roles before this century, how did this change come about? Joan A. Range ASC is associate professor in the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Loui~ University. Her address is Humanities Bui_lding; 3800 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Relig4ous Women's Status in Canon Law ~ Before this century, as a rule women's status was that of persons limited before the law. Mostly, women were considered--as were minors and the mentally incompetent--unable in their own person and name to bring a case before the court. This reflected Roman law, from which much of canon law is derived. When, however, asso-ciations of women became moral persons with rights and duties in the law, they were able to bring cases to court, as history shows. Besides bringing cases to the church's tribunals when their rights were being infringed or violated, women were also sued by others if the petitioner felt that his own rights were being infringed or violated by women. This was often a matter of property rights. As time progressed it might also be a matter of marriage rights as well, especially when it concerned the legitimacy of children and their right to inherit. Other than these cases, however, women's presence in~ the laws themselves usually had to do with their status within the church and society, that is, as daughters, wives, moth-ers, widows, nuns, or women of ill repute. Beginning early in the church's history, the protection of wid-ows and orphans was a great concern since these groups were socially the most vulnerable. As time passed and Roman law found its way into the church's mentality, other laws concerning women were developed to protect the virgin from marriage if she resisted, from abduction and rape, and later as a member of a community of consecrated women) Most of the legislation had to do with the women as wives and mothers, however, and especially with their ability to bear children. Laws agains.t adultery, contraception, and abortion were the most prominent since they infringed upon the husband's potency, paternity, or virility.4 Apart from these matters, women as individual persons were not dealt with in the church's laws. The 1917 Code did not always treat women equally with men, as studies testify.5 The 1983 Code, in contrast, states that the "there exists among all the Christian faithful a true equality with regard to dignity and the activity whereby all cooperate in the building up of the Body of Christ in accord with each one's own condition and function.''6 The excep-tion to this is when the nature of the case clearly indicates other-wise, such as the laws having to do with ordination.7 Women began to engage themselves in the activities of the Canon Law Society of America (CLSA) since about the middle of this century. It is that story upon which we now focus. May-June 1999 ,267 Range * Women and Canon Law Women and the Canon Law Society of America The pivotal event for the growth in female membership in the CLSA was the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965).8 Before that event there were clear hints that the status of women in the world and in the church needed to be addressed.9 The council documents, too, indicated those concerns,l° In the United States, women's professional involvement in canon law began in the mid 1960s. Clara Marie Henning, the first woman to become a member of CLSA, applied for membership in 1968. She was then a student in the School of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America, from which she later received the licentiate in canon law (JCL). Other women were members of the CLSA, but their reason for membership was their position as supe-riors of religious orders, not their status as canon lawyers. Even before Vatican II, beginning with Pope Pius XrlI, efforts had been made by the church to bring about a simplification and an updating within the various orders and congregations of women religious worldwide.~ This was a remote cause for interest in canonical matters and membership in the CLSA. After the documents of the council and the implementation decrees of Pope Paul vI had been issued, there was a need and desire to learn about canon law and its usefulness in the efforts of religious congregations toward adaptation and renewal. These efforts had a significant effect on the work during the 1970s toward formulating the new and revised Code. Initially, then, the impetus for women to become members of the CLSA was that congregations of women religious might derive more benefit from canon law. Another reason for women to begin studying canon law and to become members of the CLSA was an academic one. As Catholic universities opened graduate programs in theology for lay people, some women students became interested in pursuing degrees in canon law. This interest included both the relation of canon law to theology and the historical development of canon law. The membership records of the CLSA are limited in a number of ways. For many year~ the records were the responsibility of the coordinator and were not kept in a permanent office. It was only in 1980 that a full-time director and staff began to have an office (with a permanent place for records)at the Catholic University of America. The records up to 1979 were given to the Cushwa Center for .the Study of American Catholicism and are available there as archival records. The membership records are incom- Review for Religious plete, however, because they were not systematically kept, a not uncommon omission when an organization's importance is not understood in its early days22 Nevertheless, the records show a remarkable growth in female membership after the mid 1960s. In 1968 there were hardly five women members. In 1971 the first woman was elected to national office in the CLSA.13 This event witnessed to a movement within the society to include women as active members. In 1976 there were 38 women members; by 1984 there were 139. The 1990 directory lists almost 200 women members.~4 At' the time of the 1996 direc-tory, the female membership stood at 223 out of a total of 1557 members, or about 14 percent. The history of the growth of the membership of women in the CLSA is part of the growth of la~Yomember-ship. Already in1,37 the CLSA's committee on membership was concerned with appropriate criteria. The concern was not specif-ically about women, but about qualifications that would assure that interested persons, lay or clerical, would have knowledge about the science of canon law. Before this point a potential mem-ber was sponsored by a current member and his name given to the committee on membership for its approval before being voted on by all those gathered at the national convention. That this rather cumbersome way of enrolling new members needed to be revised was a common opinion at the time. Thomas J. Lynch,~5 chair of the committee on membership, wrote in a report to the board of governors that, in the proposed revision of the constitutions (1967), the CLSA will "rid our con-stitution of any unnecessary clericalism and will also insure that the active and voting membership of the society will be composed of persons whose professional qualifications give them a special com-petence in matters of renewal and revision of law." ,6 As executive secretary, after receiving increased correspon-dence from many interested parties, James Provost laid his con-cerns about qualifications for membership before the board of Initially, the impetus for women to become members of the CLSA was that congregations of women religious might derive more benefit from canon law. Mt{y-June 1999 Range ¯ l, Vomen and Canon Law governors.'7 In 1980 a constitutional amendment was finalized requiring a person to have a degree in canon law in order to be an active member. Others could be associate members, but without the right to vote at the conventions.~s In 1995 a survey was distributed to women members at the annual convention held in conjunction with the Canadian Canon Law Society in Montreal. Its purpose was to discover the experi-ence of women as members of the CLSA. One hundred three responses were returned, with seventeen women indicating asso-ciate membership, the rest active membership. The responses demonstrated a positive experience within the society; there were a few exceptions, but even they did not indicate major difficulties. One commented that the CLSA was "one of the best kept secrets of the American Church." A tone must have been set many years ago, another respondent speculated, to be inclusive of women.19 Although there is no documentation of a policy decision that ver-ifies that statement, the facts sifice 1968 attest to its reality. The inclusion of women on committees, their election to national posi-tions as officers and consultors, and their presentations at plenary sessions and seminars during regional and national conventions-- all this has been remarkable over the last thirty years. Already in 1971 a woman was a member of the religious-affairs committee; in 1972 a woman was on the legal-council committee as well.2° Twice women have been elected vice-president/presi-dent- elect and have assumed the full responsibility of that office. This office is a challenging one for its incumbent, whether male or female, and certainly for a nonordained female. In addition to chairing the board of governors, the president's responsibilities include communications with the hierarchy of the United States, with the various dicasteries of the Vatican, with the canon-law societies of other countries, and with the members of various dioce-san offices throughout the country. The leadership of the society is challenging internally also, since most of the members are still clerics, including bishops, archbi.shops, and cardinals. Besides the increased membership of women in the society and their activity within it, the agendas of the CLSA have been modified because of the interests of the women members and the" commitment of the leadership and membership to women's issues. Already in 1970, at the national convention in New Orleans, a resolution was passed that stated: "The Canon Law Society of America instructs the subcommittee of its task force on the revi- Review for Religious sion of the Code of Canon Law to study the canonical institutions concerning the dignity, freedom, rights, privileges, offices, and obligations of women in the church and to propose those changes necessary to ensure the equitable consideration of all persons regardless of sex by the law of the church.''2~ In 1973 the society cosponsored with the Adrian Dominican Sisters a meeting of canonists and theologians at their college, Siena Heights, to address the question of the ordination of women from a variety of per-spectives?~ In 1972 the board of governors established an ad hoc com-mittee on the status of women in the church; it became a regular committee in 1973.23 At the conven-tion of 1975, Margaret Brennan IHM presented a major address titled "Standing in Experience: A Reflection on the Status of Women in the church." In 1976 a symposium was held at Rosemont College in Pennsylvania on Women and Church Law; in view of the revision going on at the time, it studied how the law addresses women. It published a con-sensus paper, signed by the twenty-four participants, with sug-gestions concerning how the church in the United States might address some of the inequities from which women suffered.24 In 1987 the members of the committee on women raised the question of its future viability. Even though it regularly invited the society's membership to present it with significant issues, the committee had little business to deal with, This was the reason for the eventual elimination of this committee. Its concerns were taken up by a new committee on the laity in the church?5 From 1988 on, some members of the CLSA were involved with the canon-ical dimensions of the U.S. bishops' Letter on Women that was eventually published in 1990.26 A resolution was taken by the society in 1992 to study the question of the diaconate for women. In 1995 the report by the ad hoc committee, "The Canonical Implications of Ordaining Women to the Permanent Diaconate," was presented to the national con-vention and accepted by the membership.27 This document received a wide distribution to other professional societies and to the National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB). A resolution was taken by the society in 1992 to study the question of the diaconate for women. 271 May-.Tune 1999 Range ¯ Women and Canon Law With the promulgation of Pope John Paul II's apostolic let-ter Ordinatio sacerdotalis stating that the church has no authority to ordain women, the activity of the society on some of these issues perforce ceased, and no new initiatives on this issue have been forthcoming. Some study is being done on the question of the laity sharing in the power of jurisdiction, obviously an important issue, for .lay people function more and more in various offices in the church, It remains to be seen, however, if gender-specific issues will continue to inform the society's agenda. Participation in the annual conventions also reflects the change in the presence of women. In 1967 there were no women at the national convention. In 1968 the female participants were superi-ors of religious orders. In 1969-1970 some women religious were present as well as some major superiors.2s In 1971 there were 9 women registered at the convention in Atlanta, out of 224 partic-ipants. As more and more women begame members of the CLSA, more and more of them have attended both the regional and national conventions.29 In the women's responses to the question-naire mentioned above, they noted the quality of exchange at both regional and national conventions. They are a continuing educa-tional experience for the female membership, as they are for oth-ers who attend these meetings. 272 Women's Education in Canon Law It is clear that many of the women members of the CLSA are active members with degrees in canon law. The obtaining of these degrees is a completely novel achievement in the history of women and canon law. In North America there are two schools from which a woman can receive a degree in canon law: the Catholic University of American in Washington, D.C., and St. Paul University in Ottawa. Most U.S. women have chosen one of these two schools for their canonical education. Among the European schools, most women have chosen the Angelicum, which teaches courses in English, and a few the Gregorian, which until onl~ recently taught its courses in Latin. In 1990 John E. Lynch CSP published an interesting and infor-mative article about the history of the Department of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America, "Laying Down the (Canon) Law at Catholic University.m° The occasion for the article was the centenary of Catholic University. In it he remarked that in Review Jbr Religious 1959 women were enrolling in canon law in Rome.3' That had not yet occurred in North America and not at Catholic University, but it would occur in 1967. The first woman to enroll was Clara Marie Henning, a native of Germany. After that, the numbers of women students increased gradually and now have remained con-stant for some time. The first women students, except for Ms. Henning, were women religious.32 The topics of their theses and dissertations represented the concerns of women in the early 1970s, after the close of the council: religious formation, authority, the LCWR, the legal status of women, the pastoral nature of canon law.3~ Besides this continued interest in the concerns of women religious, later tides indicate an interest in the position of lay people in the church: for example, participation in the munus sanctificandi, and ministry and the layperson.34 Still later tides indicate a broadening of inter-est: for example, the relation of canon law to civil law, and the relation of bishops to diocesan church institutions. Licentiate (JCL) theses usually presaged what those who con-tinued on to the doctorate in canon law (JCD) would write their dis-sertations about. Many of the topics arose from the first draft of the soon-to-be-revised Code: lay employees, rights and obligations of Christian parents, tribunal personnel. Also, a number of theses compared the historic 1983 revision with the 1917 Code. When women first entered Catholic University's Department of Canon Law as students, it could be presumed that they would make a difference in the classroom. After the early wave (women religious, all but one), a number Of lay women as well (and men, too) entered the ranks of students. To assess this presumption of difference, I seized an opportunity to interview the faculty of the department in December 1996: Father James Provost (chair), Father John E. Lynch CSP, Father Thomas Green, Father Edward Pfnausch, Sister Rose McDermott ssJ, and Father John Beal.3s Their reflections on the difference women make are interesting and substantiate what I consider an exceedingly important dimen-sion of women's contribution to canon law, that is, women's human-izing effect. Every one of the faculty indicated that the presence of women made the conversation within the class richer; the questions they asked and their observations were different from the ques-tions of the traditional clerical students.36 At first the women stu-dents did not know some of the vocabulary (nor did entering laymen). One of the faculty recalls mentioning the title "vicar May-ffune 1999 273 Range ¯ Women and Canon Law forane," a term completely unfamiliar to the women. But, when this and other technical phrases were learned, the difficulty was sur-mounted. Women and men, according to ~he faculty members inter-viewed, are equally intelligent. A number of them indicated that women seem to work harder, perhaps to catch up with the clerics because of the unfamiliar discourse, perhaps because of a greater personal commitment to learning the field. By and large women are eager students and indicate an appreciation for the dedication of their ifistructors. They suffered from some rather mediocre teaching, but the men suffered from them equally with the women.37 No resentment toward women students precisely because of their gender, however, seems to have marred their educational experience, Women have been elected to leadership within the student body and have functioned well in those positions. They quickly initiated social events that, rich in student exchange, aided schol, arly interests along with providing amiable relaxation. The male students in those same positions of leadership had not been as cre-ative in these important social dimensions of student life. The mission of the faculty in this department derives from their conviction that canon law is g/tided by its theological and pastoral nature. This conviction permeates the curriculum and challenges the students to understand it as an ecclesial discipline, a sister to scriptural, systematic, moral, and church-history stud-ies and influenced by the conclusi6ns of those studies, even as canon law has an influence on them. This understanding of the nature of canon law informs the entire curriculum and therefore shapes the intellectual formation of the students for their future careers as canon lawyers. In my discussions with the faculty, the question arose about the influence of feminism on canon law. In general, the faculty agreed that the agenda of feminism, as various as it is, does not signifi-cantly influence either the students or the classes. Earlier on, given especially the newness of women to the field, the place of women in the 1917 Code, and the questions about women's place in the revised Code, women's'issues had more sig-nificance than they currently have. At that time (through the 1970s) some of the female students manifested some anger due to these issues. Today, however, the nature of law seems to move the direc-tion of the students' questions and concerns much more than gen-der issues do. The women students are not angry, nor are their Review for Religious instructors. Rather, they are typical students focused on complet-ing their studies and finding positions that fulfill their educational goals. The question of secure employment in the church, with its attendant concerns, is more of an issue with them, women and lay men alike, than gender issues. However, as justice issues, gender concerns remain for both instructors and students, now usually subsumed in the issues of the role of the layperson in the church. Women's Involvement in. Writing Canon Law Perhaps the most original activity that women have engaged in regarding canon law is the actual writing of legislation intended to be incorporated within the revised Code of Canon Law. Whether or not the canons made their way into the final text of the 1983 Code is not the point here. Rather, it is the activity itself, utterly newin the history of the church as far as I have been able to determine. How did this creative effort on the part of women begin? Sister M. Luke Tobin SL, president of the CMSW from 1964 to 1967, was invited in 1964 to be an official observer at the Vatican Council during the 1964 and 1965 sessions. This invitation itself indicated that the council fathers wanted the participation of women in the process of developing the church's self-understand-ing in the modern world?8 The law of the church, canon law, needed to express this new self-understanding ,as well. In the United States, women religious felt that their experience of their own lives as women religious was an important contribution towards an appropriately revised Code of Canon Law. This activ-ity would engage many of the members of the CMSW during the late 1960s and the 1970s. The board of CMSW began in 1965 to consider writing the regulations for ~governing the lives of women religious in the Code of Canon Law)9 It initiated a project for accomplishing this. Committees were formed in the several regions to write proposed canons dealing with the various aspects of religious life: the vows, authority, community life, formation, apostolate, prayer, and so forth. At the annual conventions of the CMSW from 1967 to 1971, the committees gave reports about the progress of their work. Eventually the conference published a document containing the proposed norms. It received a wide distribution in this country May-June 1999 275 276 Range ¯ Women and Canon Law and abroad, going to all the religious congregations and to the bishops.4° As this endeavor continued, the confidence of the women grew; they recognized the possibilities of the project. Moreover, they sought assistance from canonical experts to assist them in this unique activity. The CLSA was instrumental in assisting the various committees in this endeavor. Father Paul Boyle CP, a canon lawyer, was out-standing in his leadership in this area for women religious.4' Already as president of CLSA, he had communicated his vision of including women in the revision process. Later, as executive sec-retary, he increased his activity along this line. The recognition by the canonists of women's lack of education in canon law led to the establishment of summer institutes for a number of them. Certificates were earned and credit gained for these educa-tional endeavors. Father Kevin O'Rourke OP assumed the respon-sibility for these institutes by sponsoring them, developing them, enlisting the faculty for them, and negotiating their locations. They were held in different Catholic colleges in the country. A number of the graduates of these programs later completed their education in canon law at pontifical schools of canon law. Besides this educational assistance, the CLSA, following Paul VI's Ecdesiae sanctae (1966) implementing the conciliar document Perfectae caritatis, developed institutes to assist women religious in managing the process of renewal in their congregations. Pope Paul's decree instructed communities to hold general chapters to write their constitutions and to somehow engage the entire con-gregation in that effort. Experimentation, too, was mandated. Experimentation and writing canonical documents were some-thing for which most religious communities needed assistance. These endeavors of the CLSA were empowering experiences for the women and their religious communities. Hitherto the women were by and large ignorant of canon law and canonical procedures. They were, however, well-educated, intelligent, competent leaders within their religious congregations and deeply committed to the renewal that the church had mandated. The assistance of the CLSA empowered them and many other women in their congregations. Enthusiasm to recover the origins of their congregations, to learn about the remarkable women who had founded them, to encounter the Word of God through a knowledge of the Scriptures, and to assess the needs of the world through a study of the "signs of the times" generated an enormous energy within these communities.42 Review for Religious The results of this monumental effort have not yet been com-pletely assessed. Many studies today record it, some positively, other negatively, but it is still too close chronologically for it to be judged adequately.43 The energy, however, remains within reli-gious communities, smaller and older though they may be. Initiatives in forming new kinds of religious communities con-tinue in the church as well.** The renewal enterprise conducted among the CMSW, the reli-gious communities, and the CLSA is one of the finest stories to come out of the post-Vatican II Church. It included not only these organizations, but also the hierar-chy of the United States. There was an extraordinarydemonstra-tion of mutual encouragement and support among these diverse orga-nizations regarding the revision of the Code of Canon Law. The pos-sibility of participating together in the revision of the canons that governed the life of women reli-gious was realized through this " effort. The Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) was obviously interested in the same endeavor.4s The Canon Law Society of America responded to the announcement by Pope John XXIII as professional canon lawyers whose expertise was not sim-ply in the practice of law, but in developing it through the proposed revision process.46 These three organizations joined in this endeavor with an unusual demonstration of cooperation. Besides these, the bishops' conference in the United States became the conduit through which the efforts of the organiza-tions were channeled to the Pontifi(al Commission for the Revision of Canon Law, whose responsibility it was to finally formulate the revision. Communication among these organizations was full of enthusiasm and respect. There was no hint of competitiveness, no turf war, no condescension toward women, who were at that time uneducated as canon lawyers. What was desired from the women was the expression of their experience of their own lives and their reflection upon that experience. The mutuality of this common endeavor is one of the finest examples of how women and men can work together to accom- Experimentation and writing canonical documents were something for which most religious communities needed assistance. 277 May-.~une 1.o99 Range * Women and Canon Law plish something for the benefit of all. As the process of revision continued, difficulties emerged, of course. When the canonical text, the Code itself, and the communities' constitutions were finalized and promulgated, the energy that had informed the orig-inal process waned. The vitality of experimentation, of developing powerful and inspiring texts, of consulting all the members of communities in that effort, of creating a vocabulary that resonated with the language of the documents of Vatican II and with the pat-rimony of individual communities--all this vitality wound down as perhaps it inevitably had to after final, authoritative texts were promulgated. As rdigious communities developed their constitutions during these years, their experience shaped their identifies in a remarkable way. The expressions within many of these constitutions were utterly original as documents for identifying and regulating the lives of women religious. In the process of havin~ their constitu-tions reviewed, both the Congregation. for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life and the individ-ual congregations had much to learn. Although by now most of the problems have been resolved, there are still some communities that do not have their constitutions approved. This phenomenon bears the marks of the encounter between creative initiatives, orig-inal expressions of religious life, and traditional modes of canon-ical expression. The Code defines the constitutions of religious communities as' their particular law. The universal law within the Code presents the guidelines for the constitutions, but does not provide their content. Nevertheless,.the originality of many of these documents from religious communities presented new difficulties for both the congregations themselves and the Vatican officials, who had never seen such documents before. This encounter has been very instructive for all the institutions involved. With the promulgation of the revised Code of Canon Law in 1983 and with the finalization of their constitutions, women are no longer engaged in writing the law that regulates their lives. Periodically constitutions need to be resubmitted to the church for approval. Calls for change and for dispensations are part of the regular communication between the Vatican and women's con-gregations. But creativity and initiatives no longer inform the legal expressions of women religious. Extraordinary documents, though, still emerge from congregational meetings addressing the issues Review Jbr Religio~ts that women religious face at the end of the second millennium. How these documents influence the legally binding texts remains a question for the future. Past, Present, and Future This article has investigated the extraordinary entrance of women into a

Issue 55.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1996. ; for religi ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 199-~ * VOLUME 55 ¯ NUMBER 5 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their ~ersonal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, prhctical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point If view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) i! published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits o,'f the Missouri Province¯ Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St.!Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯Fax~: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU~ZCI.SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonoug.~ OP 1150 Cedar Cove R~oad ¯ Hendelson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER ¯ Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.( Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, See inside back cover for information ¯ Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. hnd additional mailing offices. 3n subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Rel ious Permission is herewith granted to copv any material (article]s, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Rehglous for personal or ~nternal use, or for the personal or ~nternal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 anl:l/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear n~tice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1996 ¯ VOLUME55 ¯ NUMBER5 contents consecrated life 454 462 Vita Consecrata: A Vocation for the Third Millennium Rose McDermott SSJ summarizes the content of John Paul's apostolic exhortation on consecrated life and highlights a few of its provisions. The Holy Spirit in Church Documents on the Consecrated Life Sally Ann Brickner OSF examines the increasing recognition by church documents of the role of the Holy Spirit in consecrated-life renewal. seeking God 474 Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life 485 Terrance Wayne Klein identifies three areas of concern for vocational recruitment: contact with ministerial mentors, a growing spiritual freedom in those seeking ministry, and a sense of enhancing community life. Reflections of a Fin de SiOcle Novice Michael Tidd FSC reviews his novitiate experience to clarify elements of formation central to apostolic life. --450 Review for Religious 494 5O6 breaking boundaries Racism and Religious Life Clemente Barr6n CP gives gentle and honest witness to an experience of racism that infects good people in the church and in religious life. Movement from Monocultural to Multicultural Congregations Gary Riebe-Estrella SVD suggests that what racially distinct groups offer is the opportunity to incarnate for our church and world the gospel's "Good Samaritan" model of persons letting their physical proximity turn them into neighbors. 521 527 living spiritually Perseverance: Letting the Goodness Out Melannie Svoboda SND explores factors that facilitate our practice of the virtue of perseverance. Friends through Prayer Eugene M. Rooney SJ reemphasizes the importance of prayer as a way of communication and support in a world of e-mail and fax. departments 452 Prisms 533 Canonical Counsel: The Role of Councils in Religious Governance 540 Book Reviews Septe~nber-October 1996 prisms ~ita consecrata, the papal exhortation which completed the work of the synod of bishops deal-ing with consecrated life in the church, has only just begun to be studied. First public reactions to the document seem to have been quite favorable. Of course, there will be critique--inevitable, and abso-lutely necessary if there is to be continuing development and growth. One observation made immediately upon publication was about the daunting length of the docu-ment. Although there are only three chapters, along with an introduction and a conclusion, the text is substantial and typical of the dense style of writing associated with Pope John Paul. Perhaps a saving factor in a long text is that there seems to be "something in it for everyone." Of course, there is likely something to disconcert everyone too. Some have already expressed dissatisfaction with the English translation "objective superiority" (§18 and §32) applied to consecrated life. Some are disappointed with the inconclusiveness of the equal stance of brothers in relation to priests in what is called a "mixed" institute; further work by a study commission is promised for a deci-sion. While new forms of consecrated life are acknowl-edged and praised, a proposed commission to determine criteria of authenticity and of approval suggests a stance of caution. Although there is a strong positive stance towards the specific contribution of women religious, what is referred to as "new possibilities of presence and action on the part of consecrated women" may need more to be Revlew for Religious acknowledged as already a fact in many parts of the church than a future yet to be realized. But important as the resolution of these practical matters will be for the proper development of consecrated lifeforms, I believe that the approach taken by the pope in the first chapter is hugely significant for a theological understanding and a spiritual appre-ciation of consecrated life. The pope does not take up the tools of philosophy, theology, anthropology, sociology, or behaviorial sci-ences for his primary approach to consecrated life. Instead he proposes the gospel passage of Jesus' transfiguration and suggests that we approach it as if it ycere an icon. This transfiguration icon involves a gazing on the face of Jesus both in a "going up the mountain" and a "coming down the mountain." The pope refers to an ancient spiritual tradition which links the contemplative life to the prayer of Jesus on the moun-tain. But then he adds that the active dimension of consecrated life can be included because the transfiguration event serves as prepa-ration to share with Jesus in the "toil of God's plan" and to be with him "courageously on the way of the cross." In using the sacramentality of the icon, we Christians enter sacred time and space. Through a communion with the mystery signified by an icon, tradition holds that the believer is being made-holy. An icon can be studied for the meanings of its sym-bolism, and so there is an intellectual component. Through reflec-tions on various themes stimulated by the gospel passage, John Paul develops a contemporary understanding of consecrated life. But always the focus remains the icon giving us an experience of a divine world. For our understanding and appreciation of conse-crated life, then, Vita consecrata presents us with a gospel text to suggest cognitive content and an iconic vision of the divine: by gazing upon the face of Jesus, we enter into the mystery of con-secrated life in the church and its centering world of holiness. Review for Religious takes pride in making available the text of Vita consecrata, along with a wealth of other contextual arti-cles, in The Church and Consecrated Life. The book costs $18.95 plus postage; it can be ordered from our St. Louis office. See the order form at the end of this issue. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 1996 consecrated life ROSE McDERMOTT Vita Consecrata: A Vocation for the Third Millennium When Pope Paul VI inaugurated the Synod of Bishops on 15 September 1965, he desired that it examine a selected topic in the light of church teachings and the experience of the particular churches. The synod, repre-senting the universal church, would provide the pope and world's bishops with effective collaboration and helpful insights in their shared concern for the Christian faithful throughout the world. Under date of 25 March 1996, the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord, Pope John Paul II promulgated Vita consecrata, the apostolic exhortation for the ninth ordinary session of the Synod of Bishops, held 2 through 29 October 1994. This document marks the completion of the study of the three principal vocations in the church. The priesthood was discussed in the second (1971) and eighth (1990) general sessions and the vocation to the lay state in the seventh (1987) session. Those who have studied the preparatory documents and followed the synod interventions and discussions will find no great surprises in the apostolic exhortation. Rather, it is a fine synthesis of the church's teaching on conse-crated life and its lived reality in the various parts of the world. The document shows the fruits of the consultative process encouraged by the synod's lineamenta document Rose McDermott SSJ, of the Department of Canon Law at Catholic University, last wrote for us in March-April 1995. Her address is Visitation Convent; 1524 35th Street, N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20007. Review for Religions and the contributions of the bishops and other participants gath-ered from around the world for the actual synod assembly. The present article reviews the church's teaching on conse-crated life as reflected in the apostolic exhortation and points to potential developments mentioned in the same document. Since PTta consecrata is hortatory and not legislative, the developments indicated in the document will be the subjects of further theo-logical and canonical study and authoritative deliberations. The Church's Teaching on Consecrated Life The introduction to the apostolic exhortation (§§1-13) describes consecrated life in its gospel beginnings, offers gratitude to God for this gift to the church, and expresses the apostolic exhortation's purpose: to put forth the fruits of this synod session, which has studied this vocation and its contribution to the church's mission. Six forms of consecrated life are presented, with a final paragraph noting the new expressions of the vocation present in the vari-ous churches today. Pope John Paul recognizes that the exhorta-tion is far from the final word on consecrated life. He offers the document to encourage those consecrated by the profession of the counsels to meet the challenges of today's world. Chapter I of the exhortation, Confessio Trinitatis (§§14-40), con-templates the vocation to consecrated life within the gospel icon of the Transfiguration. Persons responding to this vocation have caught a glimpse of the glory of God; he becomes the driving force of their life and activity. Configured to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient, they enjoy an intimacy with the community of the Trinity in their willingness to leave all and follow Christ in an ever deeper response to their baptismal commitment. Consecrated persons are beloved of the Father, who sends them forth--as he did Christ and the Spirit--in dedicated service to the world. This vocation cannot be lived without willing entry into the paschal mystery of suffering. The moment of glory on the mount strengthened the faith of the apostles and prepared them for their own suffering and martyrdom. So, too, the consecrated person embraces a life of labor, suffering, and abandonment to the Father's will. Yet Peter's remark is on the lips of those configured to Christ through this vocation: "Lord, it is good for us to be here." Consecrated life cannot be lived apart from the church; it belongs inextricably to its life and holiness. Through the profes- September-October 1996 McDermott ¯ Vita Consecrata sion of the counsels, consecrated persons offer a vibrant witness to the life and teachings of Christ. They are nourished through liturgical and personal prayer and traditional ascetic practices in the church. Meeting the spiritual combat in their own lives enables consecrated persons to transform the world in humility, detach-ment, and reliance on God. Chapter 2, Signum Fraternitatis (§§41-71). All forms of con-secrated life manifest communion in imitation of Christ's life within the Trinitarian community and in the company of the Twelve. This communion is particularly lived out in religious institutes and societies of apostolic life where the members live in common, supporting one another in the spiritual life and in the apostolate. Members of secular institutes are joined in community with one another through their charism and their embrace of the community in which they live and labor. The church, a mystery of communion (Ac 2:42-47), depends on consecrated persons to give witness to community in an often fragmented and broken world. Within the ecclesial community the bishop looks after the charisms for the good of all the faith-ful. While institutes of consecrated life enjoy a rightful auton-omy of life and governance, they should cooperate with the respective bishops, sharing their goals and apostolates with them. Lay persons recognize the value of communities of conse-crated persons. They seek to attach themselves to them, sharing their spirituality and assisting in their apostolates. These associ-ates and volunteers should be fostered and formed so that they appreciate their lay vocation more deeply and readily lend them-selves to apostolic endeavor in their particular churches. Likewise, formation programs for candidates should reflect human, com-munal, apostolic, cultural, and professional dimensions adapted to the whole person. Chapter 3, Servitium Caritatis (~'§72-103). The mission of those consecrated by profession of the evangelical counsels is one of communicating God's love to the world. One is consecrated and sent (Jn 10:36). The challenges of today's world demand a strong interior life of consecrated persons, a life deeply in tune with the Spirit of God. Through their charisms, members of institutes of consecrated life witness a particu!al~ aspect of the gospel message to those they serve. The universal character of their institutes permits them to join with other ecclesial ministers in carrying out the church's Review for Religious . mission through evangelization, ecumenical and interreligious dialogues, inculturation, the preferential option for the poor, and the promotion of justice. Through their profession of chastity, poverty, and obedience, consecrated persons offer a prophetic witness to the world and address the challenges of a hedonistic culture, materialism, and a distorted use of freedom. The community dimension of conse-crated life teaches the universal call to holiness regardless of differences and human limitations. This prophetic wit-ness is the fruit of a deep spiritual life and an openness to God's word in litur-gical and personal prayer. The apostolic exhortation's Conclusion. The document ends as it began, in grat-itude to God and to those who "waste" their lives in what seems at times an irrelevant commitment, a life poured out in selfless love and service. This vocation as an essential part ofthe church's life and holiness. Consecrated persons contribute with unbounded generosity to the various aspects of the mission of the church. The pope exhorts consecrated persons to live fully the life they have embraced, a life of The document ends as it began, in gratitude to God and to those who "waste" their lives in what seems at times an irrelevant commitment, a life poured out in selfless love and service. continual conversion and dedication to Christ, challenged by the new millennium, but focused on the world to come. A prayer addressed to the Trinity and an invocation to the Virgin of the Visitation for consecrated women and men bring the document to an end. Potential Developments in Consecrated Life New institutes, new forms, new ecclesial movements (§§12 and 62). The Holy Spirit revitalizes the ecclesial community through a variety of new gifts. These charisms can be seen in the embry-onic beginnings of new institutes of consecrated life that meet the present theological and canonical criteria. Other develop-ments seem to be new forms of consecrated life and must await approval from the Apostolic See. Still other "evangelical lifestyles" September-October 1996 McDermott ¯ Vita Gonsecrata that possess some of the characteristics of consecrated life and various other forms of Christian witness would seem to be more accurately categorized as associations of the faithful. Pope John Paul has encouraged these developments in his weekly general audiences during the synod and in the apostolic exhortation. He recognizes them as a true sign of the charismatic nature of the church. This wealth of new gifts is received by the church with grat-itude. These charisms do not substitute fox~ the traditional ones approved by the church throughout its history. Rather, they should complement the older forms and continue in their rich tradition. Bishops have requested more exact criteria in order to discern and distinguish these new developments. A commission has been set up (1) to deal with questions relating to these new forms, (2) to determine criteria to assist church authorities in their dis-cernment and decision making regarding them, and (3) to pre-sent those officially approved as new forms of consecrated life to the faithful. Legislation for cloister (§Yg). The church has always held the contemplative life in highest esteem and has provided norms on cloister to preserve the values inherent in this vocation. While men religious dedicated totally to the contemplative life regulate their cloister (canon 667, §2), women religious totally given to the contemplative life observe cloister in accord with the norms issued by the Apostolic See (c. 667, §3). This difference in the provisions for the cloister of men and women contemplative religious seems contradictory to canon 606, which provides equality in the common law for men and women religious. The cloistral norms seem contrary also to canon 586, which assures all religious institutes a true autonomy to direct their own life and governance in accord with the patrimony of the institute. Women religious institutes dedicated totally to the contemplative life represent a rich variety of monastic and men-dicant traditions. Yet all are obliged to papal cloister without due regard for their varied charisms. Pope John Paul assures us in §59 that careful consideration will be given the concerns addressed by the participants of the synod with regard to this issue. It should be noted that many of the diocesan bishops participating in the synod assembly asked contemplative men and women', to share their prayer life and extend their hospitality to clerics, la~ people, and other religious Review for Religious who seek spiritual renewal. The exhortation assures that more authority will be given major superiors ofsui iuris monasteries to grant dispensations from enclosure for just and sufficient reasons in keeping with conciliar renewal. This provision would be in keeping with the principle of subsidiarity and enable institutes of contemplative life to express their charisms better in their clois-ter regulations. Associates and volunteers joined to institutes of consecrated life (§ Y 6). Before the Second Vatican Council, only religious orders with an apostolic indult were permitted to have third orders secular attached to them. Conciliar teaching placed great emphasis on an ecclesiology of communion that had noteworthy implications for the rela-tionship of the laity With institutes of con-secrated life. Today all religious institutes without distinction can have members of the laity associated with them, sharing their spirituality and joining in their apos-tolic works. This phenomenon was rec-ognized in the preparatory documents of the synod and lauded by the participants in the assembly. Paragraph 56 of the apostolic exhor-tation notes the increasing number of associates and lay volunteers joined to institutes of consecrated life. Vv'hile the exhortation cautions the protection of the identity of these same institutes, it encourages a proper preparation of the lay people joined to them in order that they approach their apostolic com-mitments with supernatural intentions anda strong sense of com-munity. Lay persons in decision-making positions in the apostolates of these institutes should promote the ends of the institute and carry out their labors under its competent superiors. Directives approved by proper authorities need to be provided in such cases. Mixed institutes (§61). Some institutes of men religious, par-ticularly those sharing the Franciscan charism, are neither lay nor clerical from their foundation. In keeping with the intention of their founder, they admit both clerics and laymen to the insti-tute. All are friars or brothers with equal rights and obligations in Today all religious institutes without distinction can have members of the laity associated with them, sharing their spirituality and joining in their apostolic works. September-October 1996 McDermott ¯ Vita Consecrata the institute, prescinding from their lay or clerical status. Conciliar and postconciliar teachings support this fundamental equality of all members and their participation in the life and governance of the institute. The universal law of the church, however, makes no provision for these mixed institutes. It provides only for cler-ical or lay institutes in accord with their foundation, traditions, and end. Likewise, in many of these mixed institutes, some offices require daat the members be ordained. The synod assembly proposed that, when the general chapter of such an institute reque.sted, all offices of governance within these institutes be open to members without distinction. This proposal would be in conformity with the intention of the founders that all members be equal in the life and governance of the institute. Paragraph 61 of the apostolic exhortation recom-mends that such institutes study the original inspiration of their founder. In the meantime a special commission has been estab-lished to examine and resolve the problems concerning this issue. Mutual relations of bishops and consecrated persons (~§48-50). The ecclesiology of communion has led to an intense reflection on the role of consecrated life within the life and apostolate of the particular churches. While institutes of consecrated life are uni-versal by nature, the vocation of their individual members is lived out in a particular church. In 1978 the congregations for bish-ops and for institutes of consecrated life published the document Mutuae relationes, a compilation of directives for effective mutual relations between bishops and religious. These directives exhort bishops and major superiors to collaborate more effectively at the national level through their respective conferences and at the local level through meetings of the diocesan bishops with the major superiors whose members serve the particular church. The synod assembly recommended a revision of this docu-ment which would reflect the developments in this area, particu-larly as reflected in the legislation of the Latin and Eastern churches. In keeping with the synod proposal, the exhortation recommends that delegates from the conferences of bishops par-ticipate in the conferences of major superiors of their nations and that delegates from these latter conferences participate in the meetings of the episcopal conferences. It further proposes that the theology and spirituality of consecrated life be an integral part of the preparation of diocesan priests. Likewise, the study of ecclesiology should be included in the formation program for Review for Religious members of institutes of consecrated life. Pope John Paul con-curs with the members of the synod in hoping that this spirit of communion and cooperation be extended to the entire church. Perhaps a revision and expansion ofMutuae relationes will be pre-sented in the near future. Conclusion As the apostolic exhortation concludes with a reference to Mary, Virgin of the Visitation, it is appropriate that this article end in like manner. Mary, her heart filled with Christ, went forth to serve Elizabeth. Consecrated persons configured to Christ stand ready to meet the needs of people in the third millennium. And with Peter in his ecstasy they cry, "Lord, it is good for us to be here." Abba At the shore where sea and sky and land meet and waves pound the rocks with constant rhythm, I find myself caught up by the stout winds, drawn by the salt air and combative gulls. Here is where I face God in his might yet also encounter him in beauty . Sunsets beckon like fringes of heaven while shorebirds encompass the lilt of hope. I am a mere grain of eternity yet I'm always within God's providence and like the back and forth surge of the tide am drawn into the core of a loving heart. Neil C. Fitzgerald September-October 1996 SALLY ANN BRICKNER The Holy Spirit in Church Documents on the Consecrated Life Twhheen Stheceo cnhdu Vrcaht irceafnl eCcoteudn coinl witsa so twhen encactluersei oalnodg imcails msioonm. eInnt convoking the council Pope John XXIII requested that it be pas-toral in tone and call the entire church to renewal so that its mis-sion, which is none other than Christ's mission of establishing the reign of God, be accomplished through the power of the Holy Spirit. Pope John Paul II, in his recent apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata, says of consecrated life: "Its universal presence and the evangelical nature of its witness are clear evidence., that the consecrated life is not something isolated and marginal, but a reality which affects the whole church. In effect, the consecrated life is at the very heart of the church as a decisive element for her mission since it 'manifests the inner nature of the Christian calling' and the striving of the whole church as bride toward union with her one Spouse" (§3). The appropriate renewal of the con-secrated life, therefore, is essential to renewal in the church.1 Since the close of the council in December 1965, develop-ments in ecclesiology, in the church's thinking about its nature as mystery and as the universal sacrament of salvation, have fre-quently focused on the Holy Spirit. Vita consecrata reflects this: "Like the whole of Christian life, the call to the consecrated life is closely linked to the working of the Holy Spirit" (§ 19). Through Sally Ann Brickner OSF is a faculty member at St. Norbert College. Her address is Sisters of St. Francis of the Holy Cross; 2413 South Webster Avenue; Green Bay, Wisconsin 54301. Review for Religious a study of this and other recent church documents, this essay demonstrates that pneumatology has become important in the ecclesiological understanding of the consecrated life and that this emphasis has implications for its continuing renewal. This study proceeds chronologically through the two concil-iar documents and the eight postconciliar documents that explic-itly treat the consecrated life. A brief explanation of pneumatology provides a backdrop for the analysis. The study concludes with a discussion of the implications of this ecclesiological doctrine for the continuing appropriate renewal of the consecrated life. What Is Pneumatology? The Greek word pneuma means breath, air, wind, soul, spirit. Pneumatology, then, is the branch of systematic theology that studies the Person and work of the I-Ioly Spirit.2 The t-Ioly Spirit has been virtually lost from much of Christian consciousness, some theologians claim. The Spirit of God manifests herself through various actions: vivifying, renewing and empowering, gracing. The Holy Spirit is the mutual rela-tionship of love within the community (koinonia) of the Godhead, freely going forth to renew, to liberate.3 It is the Spirit who makes it possible for us to know and experience Christ. Christ's life in us and our life in Christ is ecclesial in the sense that Christ's Spirit is the principle of communication and communion.4 "The church is the body of Christ, because Christ is a pneumatological being, born and exist-ing in the koinonia of the Spirit.''5 Christ is the head of the church, and the Holy Spirit is the heart of the church. Word and Spirit are the two hands of God at work building God's reign.6 The church has come to understand the Holy Spirit also through the Spirit's free gifts, charisms, "to perform distinct and mutually complementary functions in building up the body of Christ." Charisma must be understood in relation to charis, "grace" that God gives for the common good and the renewal of the church in all eras.7 Charisms are not extraordinary, ecstatic gifts reserved to a few persons. Rather, they are the obvious ways "through which the Spirit structures the church by rousing from Christ is the head of the church, and the Holy Spirit is the heart of the church. September-October 1996 Brickner ¯ The Hol~ Spirit in Church Documents within the services and functions of the community according to the diversity and qualities of each member. In this perspective there is no opposition between charism and institution. A ministry is normally the expression of a charism, and a permanent charism takes the form of a ministry or a service." Charism also refers to the gifts which inspire the choice of a particular state of life such as marriage or celibacy. But in the end neither charism nor insti-tution will exist. Charity alone endures and is the true measure and strength of any charism,s Against this backdrop about pneumatology and its relationship to ecclesiology, we can now examine pneumatology in documents pertaining to the consecrated life. What pneumatology is evi-dent? Does development occur in pneumatology? Conciliar Documents Before examining the two conciliar texts, it will be beneficial to consider briefly whether and how pneumatology was approached by the council fathers. It has been said that the eccle-siology of Vatican Council II is pneumatological as well as Christocentric, and ultimately theocentric.9 Yves Congar, the renowned theologian of this century and peritus of the council, claims that its ecclesiology is pneumatological though not pneu-matocentric. 1° It stresses, first and foremost, that the Spirit is the Spirit of Christ, building up the Body of Christ. The documents depict both a visible and a spiritual manifestation of the Spirit who animates the church here and now. The council fathers rec-ognize multiple charisms, the infinite variety of gifts which the -Holy Spirit gives for the common good and the renewal of the church. The council also affirms that the Holy Spirit calls and gathers the people of God into communion, both within partic-ular churches as well as within the universal church.11 Whether these pneumatological perspectives appear in the two council texts specifically dealing with the consecrated life is the issue to which we now turn. Lumen Gentium (1964) In this primordial document, chapters 5, "Call of the Whole Church to Holiness," and 6, "Religious," speak of the Holy Spirit several times. The holiness of the church is unceasingly mani-fested through the fruits of the Holy Spirit in all the faithful. The Review for Relig4ous Holy Spirit also influences the practice of the evangelical coun-sels as a shining witness and model of holiness (§39). Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, church authority has the duty of interpreting the evangelical counsels, regulating their practice, and establishing stable forms of living in accordance with them (§43). The council fathers affirm that the religious state, though not belonging to the hierarchical structure of the church, belongs inseparably to her life and holiness. It manifests the surpassing greatness of Christ the King and the boundless power of the Holy Spirit (§44) in .the church. Perfectae Caritatis (1965) Few direct references to the Holy Spirit appear in Perfectae caritatis.12 Through God's love which is poured into their hearts by the Holy Spirit, some Christians are impelled to practice the evangelical counsels in a true family gathered together in the Lord's name. Their "brotherly" unity shows that Christ has come and results in great apostolic effectiveness (§§ 1 and 15). The pro-cesses of appropriate renewal of religious life include (1) a return to the sources of Christian life and to the original inspiration of the founder and (2) adjustment of the community to the changed conditions of the times. These processes are to go forward under the influence of the Holy Spirit and with the guidance of the church (§2). Through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the church is enriched with a variety of communities having a diver-sity of apostolic works (§8). Postconciliar Documents Evangelica Testificatio (1971) In this apostolic exhortation "On the Renewal of Religious Life," written six years after the close of the council, Pope Paul VI emphasizes the work of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit gifts the church with martyrs and with various forms of religious life (§3). Pope Paul speaks of the "charisms of the founders" and the "charism of religious life," which are the fruit of the Holy Spirit always at work within the church (§11). The Spirit guides the church in its interpretation and regulation of the evangelical coun-sels (§7). The Spirit inspires communities of consecrated life not only in their origins but also in their renewal, which requires dis-cernment (§§6 and 51). By placing greater emphasis on the ¯ September-October 1996 Brickner ¯ The Holy Spirit in Church Documents charismatic nature of the consecrated life, church teaching becomes less iuridic and more pneumatic.13 Mutuae Relationes (1978) This document, based on a consultation of bishops and reli-gious in 1975, portrays vividly the pneumatic ecclesiological insights of Vatican Council II, continues to use the term "charism," and provides criteria for evaluating the authenticity of charisms. Profound reflections on the pneumatic origin and sacramental nature of the church permeate the first chapter. "The soul of the ecclesial body is the Holy Spirit" (§9). Ever since the day of Pentecost there has existed in the world a new people which draws its life from the Holy Spirit and is united in Christ so as to have access to the Father. ¯ . This unique nature of the church is due to the presence of the Holy Spirit himself. He is the life and strength of the people of God, the cohesive power in its communion, the energy for its mission, the source of its various gifts, the bond of its marvelous unity, the light and beauty in its creative power, the fire of its love . The life-giving pres-ence of the Holy Spirit creates an organic cohesion in Christ,. for the Spirit "makes [the church] one in its com-munion and ministry, provides it with various hierarchical and charismatic gifts, directing it through them, and adorns it with his fruits." (§§1 and 2) Both founders of consecrated life and bishops are "enriched with suitable charisms" such as the "special charism of organizing" pastoral ministries and of discerning local cultural values (§§6 and 9). Remaining faithful to the charism of their founders, reli-gious institutes should make use of the charism for inventiveness, for bold and ingenious new ecclesial experiments under the impulse of the Holy Spirit (§§14 and 19). Bishops have the respon-sibility of discerning whether a charism is authentic: it must (1) take its origin from the Spirit as something distinct though not separate from innate or acquired gifts, (2) show a desire to become like Christ in order to witness to some aspect.of his mystery, and (3) show a fruitful love for the church that avoids discord (§51). The document acknowledges tensions between the hierarchic structure and consecrated life, encouraging collaboration between bishops and religious for the good of the church. Religious Life and Human Promotion (1980) Because of its focus on human promotion as the mission of the Review for Religious church and therefore of religious as well, one would think that the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes would emphasize pneumatology. However, only a few references to the work of the Holy Spirit appear. Religious are encouraged to be enterprising in undertakings and initiatives in keeping with the charismatic and prophetic nature of their life (§2 7). Renewal in the consecrated life is important for the church and for ~he world because the works of religious, marked by a diversity of charisms, are one of the most important means by which the church carries out its evangelization (§5). The Holy Spirit constantly inspires new forms of consecrated life and animates existing communi-ties, which are called to remain faithful to the purposes for which they were founded (§§6 and 8). Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life (1981) This document results from a plenary meeting of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in 1980 and stresses the absolute primacy of life in the Holy Spirit (§17). Contemplation is an infused gift of the Holy Spirit by which the believer opens up to the revelation and communication of the liv-ing God. As the highest and fullest activity of the spirit, contem-plation is the real secret of renewal for religious life (§1). Action and contemplation must be fused. Only apostolic and charitable activity which is inspired and motivated by the Holy Spirit is of the very nature of refigious life (§4). The Sacred Congregation urges "renewed attention tolife in the Holy Spirit" through daily meditation on Sacred Scripture (§8), celebration of the Eucharist (§9) and the sacrament of reconciliation (§ 10), spiritual direction (§11), the praying of the Liturgy of the Hours (§12), the prac-tice of asceticism (§14), and devotion to the Virgin May (§13). Redemption# Donum (1983) The few pneumatological references in this apostolic exhor-tation of Pope John Paul (on religious consecration in the light of the mystery of redemption) parallel those of other documents on the consecrated life. Religious profession is described as a fuller expression of baptismal "consecration to God in Jesus Christ" in a covenant of spousal love (§§7 and 8). The Holy Spirit calls peo-ple to follow Christ and recalls to mind all that Christ has said. The entire economy of redemption is realized precisely through the mysterious action of the Holy Spirit, who is the author of all September-October 1996 Brickner ¯ The Holy Spirit in Church Documents holiness (§§6 and 9). The vow of celibacy is a charismatic choice which brings the eschatological kingdom of God close to the life of all people, while the vow of obedience engenders total avail-ability to the Holy.Spirit (§§11 and 13). The particular gift of the founder, from which the apostolate must come, endures as a charism for the whole community (§15). Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life (1983) The document summarizes the church's traditional teachings and norms pertaining to the consecrated life. Its few references to the Holy Spirit offer no new insights. The church has approved and encourages renewal in its numerous religious families, whose distinctiveness derives from the founding charism (§§11, 41, and 42). The witness of religious can be a clear echo of the gospel "to the extent that it manifests publicly the transforming power of Christ in the church and the vitality of the institute's charism to the people of our time" (§§11 and 37). Hence, renewal must focus on fidelity to the founding gift.14 Fraternal Life in Community (1994) In this document the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) lucidly and directly expresses the pneumatic character of the church and of the consecrated life. Like the mystery of the church itself, the consecrated life expresses the great Trinitarian com-munion in which the Father has willed that women and men have part in the Holy Spirit (§§2, 9, and 71). Religious community is an expression of ecclesial communion. "Before being a human construction, religious community is a gift of the Spirit. It is the love of God poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, from which religious community takes its origin and is formed as a true fam-ily gathered together in the Lord's name" (§8). The fruit of this communion is the gift of fraternal life. Religious community is not simply a collection of Christians seek-ing personal perfection. Rather, it is to be a living organism of intense fraternal communion animated by the foundational charism (§2). United in the Holy Spirit, religious are to become brothers and sisters in their daily experience of communion of life, prayer and apostolate (§§44, 10, 11). Communion originates precisely in sharing the Spirit's gifts. The more religious share ¯ the things that are central and vital, the more the fraternal bond Review for Religious grows in strength (§32). Thus, religious should live alone only in exceptional cases and should value diversity within the com-munity (§65). "Optional homogeneity, besides weakening apostolic mobility, weakens the Pneumatic strength of a community and robs the spiritual reality which rules the community of its power as witness" (§41). "Just as the Holy Spirit anointed the church in the upper room to send her out to evangelize the world, so every reli-gious community, as an authentic pneumatic community of the Risen One, is also, and according to its own nature, apostolic" (§58). Fraternal communities become missionaries of that love "taught and lived by Christ and communicated to us through his Spirit" (§56). This missionary activ-ity is lived out in a particular church to which the religious community brings the richness of its consecration, its fraternal life, and its charism (§60). Religious must seek a just balance between per-sonal charisms and the community's apostolate without the dis-integrating forms of individualism or the leveling aspects of communitarianism (§39). Fraternal communion is already an apos-tolate, and contributes directly to the work of evangelization (§54). "The effectiveness of religious life depends on the quality of the fraternal life in common," which serves as a sign and stim-ulus for all the baptized (§§54 and 2). Fraternal communion is already an apostolate, and contributes directly to the work of evangelization. Vita Consecrata (1996) While the conciliar documents laid the firm foundation for future developments in pneumatology in church documents on the consecrated life, this apostolic exhortation gives shape to its mag-nificent mansion. Dare it be said that in thid document pneuma-tology moves to the front and center?~s Pneumatology as depicted in the document manifests deeper ecclesiological understandings of the consecrated life in three areas: consecration, communion, and mission. After providing brief citations of pneumatology from the document for each of these areas, we reflect on the Holy Father's repeated emphasis on founding charisms. Considered a deepening of baptismal consecration, religious profession includes a special call and gift of the Holy Spirit to September-October 1996 Brickner * The Holy Spirit in Church Documents live the evangelical councils in religious community (§30). "Consecrated persons, who embrace the evangelical counsels, receive a new and special consecration which, without being sacra-mental, commits them to making their own--in chastity, poverty and obedience--the way of life practiced personally by Jesus and proposed by him to his disciples" (§31). The consecrated life is a way of showing forth the church's holiness, an especially rich man-ifestation of gospel values and a more complete expression of the church's purpose, which is the sanctification of humanity (§32). The consecrated life is also a sign of communion in the church. "The church is essentially a mystery of communion, 'a people made one with the unity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit'" (§41). "It is the Spirit himself who leads the soul to the experience of communion with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ, a communion which is the source of fraternal life" and of the inte-rior call to share everything in common (§42). "In community life, the power of the Holy Spirit at work in one individual passes at the same time to all" (§42). Filled with joy and the Holy Spirit, consecrated persons are to be true experts of communion and to practice the spirituality of communion (§~45 and 46). Communion leads to mission and becomes mission. "By their charisms, consecrated persons become signs of the Spirit point-ing to a new future enlightened by faith and by Christian hope. Eschatological expectation becomes mission, so that the kingdom may become ever more fully established here and now" (§27). "If the church is to reveal her true face to today's world, she urgently needs such fraternal communities, which by their very existence contribute to the new evangelization inasmuch as they disclose in a concrete way the fruitfulness of the 'new commandment'" (§45). Through a special gift of the Holy Spirit, some persons in the consecrated life have carried out a genuinely prophetic min-istry, speaking the name of God to all, even to the pastors of the church (§84). Pope John Paul emphasizes pneumatology also through his focus on the charismatic aspect of the consecrated life. "The Spirit, who at different times has inspired numerous forms of consecrated life, does not cease to assist the church, whether by fostering in already existing institutes a commitment to renewed faithfulness to the founding charism or by giving new charisms to men and women of our own day so that they can start institu-tions responding to the challeng&s of our times" (§62). Review for Religqous Appropriate renewal of the consecrated life includes a return to the sources (as noted in Perfectae caritatis), one of which is fidelity to the founding charism. The founding charism orients consecrated persons to a special relationship with the Trinity (§36). The church assists in discernment regarding the founding charisms, which contribute to building up charity in the particu-lar churches and in the universal church (§§62 and 48). Contemporary Pneumatology's Significance for the Consecrated Life Church documents on the consecrated life are generally rich in pneumatological references, as we have seen. This shift from the juridic to the pneumatic enriches and expands the ecclesio-logical understanding of the consecrated life in the areas of con-secration, communion, and mission. What implications does this finding have for the continuous renewal of the consecrated life? At least two suggestions come to mind: (1) coming to know and love the Holy Spirit, who is the source of unity with God and with others, and (2) both individually and communally respond-ing with greater alacrity to the Spirit's impulses. A common human experience is the longing for communion, for unity which respects a plurality of differences, for love freely given. Within the Holy Trinity there exists this mutuality of rela-tionships in a community of equals. Through the Holy Spirit, God's love is poured into our hearts (Rm 5:5). It is the Spirit who teaches those in the consecrated life how to relate, to respect the diversity of God's gifts, to love. The Holy Spirit must no longer be "shadowy," "vague," "half-known," or "forgotten" by the peo-ple of God, including those in the consecrated life.16 Without a deeper knowledge and appreciation of the Holy Spirit, conse-crated women and men will be unable to understand their charisms and respond to the Spirit who renews and revitalizes the consecrated life. Virtually every one of the documents on the consecrated life urges communities to have strong initial and continuing forma-tion programs, especially in theology. Intellectual development, however, though necessary, is not sufficient. Consecrated persons must also become more responsive to the impulses of the Holy Spirit. Their life is a "kind of shock therapy instituted by the Holy Spirit for the church as a whole.''17 They are called to be the Septent her- October 1996 Brickner ¯ The Holy Spirit in Church Documents presence of God's Spirit in the world: prophets, who speak and boldly exemplify the possibility of real communion; truth tellers, who proclaim what is liberating in feminism; empty vessels that willingly receive the richness of diversity through inculturation; and builders of the reign of God through ecumenical activity.18 The Holy Spirit will not allow the church to domesticate its insti-tutes of consecrated life. Salt must retain its savor! Leaven must retain its power! Renewal, not only of consecrated life but also of the church, depends upon it. Notes ' See Perfectae caritatis §1 and Vim consecrata §§13 and 35. On the relationship between renewal in religious congregations and renewal in the church, see Gerald A. Arbuclde, Refounding the Church (New York: Orbis Books, 1993). 2 HarperCollins Encyclopedia of Catholicism, 1995, s.v. "Pneumatology." These brief remarks about pneumatology can only skim the surface of what many authors have eloquently written about the Holy Spirit. See, for example, Yves Congar's three-volume work I Believe in the Holy Spirit. 3 See Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is (New York: Crossroad, 1994), pp. 128-131 and 133-145. In her study of the Holy Trinity, Johnson begins with Spirit-Sophia, to whom feminine characteristics are often attributed. 4 Yves Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit (New York: Seabury Press, 1983), vol. 1, pp. 37 and 31-32. s John Zizioulas, "The Church as Communion," St. Vladimir's Theological Quarterly 38, no. 1 (1994): 6. 6 Yves Congar, The I, Vord and the Spirit (San Francisco: Harper and Row Publishers, 1986), pp. 61-62. St. Bonaventure speaks of Christ as the head of the church, and St. Thomas Aquinas speaks of the Holy Spirit as the heart of the church. The Spirit is the Spirit of the Word; the Word is also of the Spirit. St. Thomas's Christology is pneumatological, accord-ing to Congar. 7 Avery Dulles, A Church to Believe In (New York: Crossroad, 1982), p. 20; Congar, 1 Believe in the Holy Spirit, vol. 2, pp. 161-162. 8 Ren~ Laurentin, "Charisms: Terminological Precision," in Cbarisms in the Church, ed. Christian Duquoc and Casiano Floristan (New York: Seabury Press, 1978), p. 10. Thomas O'Meara writes that charism and institution must not be set in false opposition; he speaks--in his Theology of Ministry (New York: Paulist Press, 1983), p. 68--of the relationship between charism and ministry: "Far from charism being opposed to min-istry, ministry is mediated from the Spirit to personality by charism: dia-conal charisms." When Paul VI refers to religious life as a charism, he uses charism as "a particular state of life." Review for Religious 9 Herbert Vorgrimler, ed., Commentary on the Documents of Vatican H (New York: Herder and Herder, 1967), vol. 1, p. 142. Some critics per-ceive pneumatology to be underdeveloped in conciliar texts. See, for example, Jean-Marie Tillard, "A Point of Departure," Review for Religious 26, no. 3 (March-April 1967): 435-437. Catherine Lacugna, speaking at the University of Notre Dame during the recent conference on the "Reception of Vatican II," suggested that pneumatology was lim-ited if not lackingin conciliar texts. In private conversation she com-mented that the Holy Spirit is too often subordinated to the other Persons of the Trinity. ,0 Congar, IBelieve in the Holy Spirit, vol. 1, pp. 167-172. I I Jean-Marie Tillard, Church of Churches: The Ecclesiology of Communion (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). 12 See Vorgrimler, pp. 301-332. The "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life" went through five redactions and required much compromise among the council fathers. It is short (25 articles) and focuses mainly on principles of appropriate renewal. Its brevity neces-sarily restricted the breadth of theological foundations it could provide regarding the consecrated life. 13 Patricia Walter, "Religious Life in Church Documents," Review for Religious 51, no. 4 0uly-August 1992): 555. 14 This document approaches religious life in a juridical manner and had a mixed reception among religious congregations. is In Vita consecrata sixteen of the 112 articles refer to the Trinity in various ways: as source, as model, in prayer. Half of the articles include a reference to the Holy Spirit, often without subordinating the Spirit's action to that of the Creator and the Redeemer. In addition, the charis-matic element of the consecrated life, attributed to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, appears in 44 percent of the articles. Indeed, recalling Congar's reflections about the pneumatology of Vatican II, one might consider the document notably pneumatocentric compared with concil-iar texts. ,6 See Elizabeth Johnson, She Who Is, p. 130. ,7 Johannes B. Metz, Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 12. 18 Authors who exemplify these perspectives include Joan Chittister, The Fire in These Ashes (Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1995); Diarmuid O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991); Paul J. Philibert, ed., Living in the Meantime (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1994); Gerald A. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1988). September-October 1996 seeking God TERRANCE WAYNE KLEIN Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life In his postsynodal apostolic exhortation Pastores Dabo Vobis: On the Formation of Priests in the Circumstances of the Present Day, Pope John Paul raises an issue I consider essential to vocational recruitment, namely, the formation of can-didates ready to be recruited. Making reference to Andrew bringing his brother Peter to Christ, the Holy Father writes: "He brought him to Jesus." In a way, this is the heart of all the church's pastoral work on behalf of vocations, in which she cares for the birth and growth of vocations, making use of the gifts and responsibilities, of the charisms and ministry she has received from Christ and his Spirit. The church, as a priestly, prophetic, and kingly people, is committed to foster and to serve the birth and maturing of priestly vocations through her prayer and sacramental life, by her proclamation of the word and by education in th~ faith, by her example and witness of ~harity. (PDV§38) I think a significant insight of this text is that finding men and women ready and willing to respond to calls to special ministry in the church should not be left to mer-curial chance: "The church., is committed to foster and serve the birth and maturing of priestly vocations." I also think the text.dispels the theological assertion that this is Terrance Wayne Klein is a former director of vocations and was director of spiritual formation in two seminaries. He is now an associate pastor at St. Brigid of Kildare Church; P.O. Box 1131; Dublin, Ohio 43017. Review for Religious a work of the Holy Spirit alone, and not of human effort. To sup-pose that the Holy Spirit creates the candidates and all the church need do is find them would be to slight the role of human coop-eration in the divine plan of salvation. The church has always realized that religious and priestly vocations are not simply from out of the blue. They arise out of her stock of maturing, committed Christians who, when presented with an actual invitation to a ministry in the church, find them-selves able and willing to respond freely and generously. The cul-tivation of that stock has always been the task of every catechetical and Christian-formation movement in the church's history. Catholic schools, CCD programs, retreat experiences, and youth movements exist to form what can only be called, most basically, disciples of Christ. The cultivation of such a stock has previously not been the task of those charged with vocational recruitment. Yet the flour-ishing of vocations may very well depend upon vocation direc-tors taking up the work of actually forming communities of discipleship. In this article I present three matters that I think need attention if vocational recruitment is to flourish. They are the necessity of bringing youth into contact with ministerial fig-ures; the need of progressive liberation, greater spiritual free-dom, in the lives of those seeking ministry in the church; and a fundamental characteristic desirable in all who work to promote vocations. Letting Sparks Fly According to data presented in the United States Catholic Conference study Research on Men's Vocations to the Priesthood and the Religious Life, most young people decide the basic direction of their lives between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. They do not necessarily choose a career path at this time; given the pro-traction of American adolescence, this would be unlikely. During these years, however, young people choose the values that chart the course their life will take. During these years they decide how important to them are values such as altruism, service, intimacy, material goods, public esteem, and education. That developmental fact belongs with other data presented in the same source (and subsequently confirmed in other stud-ies) and showing that most vocations to special consecration come September-Oaober 1996 Most vocations to special consecration come from direct contact with an inspiring person actually doing ministerial work in the church. from direct contact with an inspiring person actually doing min-isterial work in the church. This statistical evidence is borne out by my own experien, ce in working as a spiritual director to sem-inarians. They all have a story to tell, and it usually involves some ministerial figure who inspired them. Vocations are not cajoled; they are caught by contact. They do not come from media resources; they come out of personal interaction. When I put these two sets of data .together and consider that young people today are no less generous and no less motivated than previous generations, I come to the conclusion that, in the Catholic Church and among Christians in general, there is a sociological gap between youth and the institutional church's ministerial structures. Many young people growing up today have never personally encountered vibrant Christian ministry. Put simply, they do not view the ministry, in any of its forms, as having significance for the world in which they live. It has nei-ther formed nor informed their lives. The Holy Spirit is going to continue to create and nourish souls that are generous, but the church must present its ministe-rial life as an opportunity for that generosity to be expressed. This implies living contact between youth and committed minis-ters of the gospel. To the extent that religious communities and diocesan personnel move away from youth, they move away from the future and sever the lines of support that the institutions are there to provide. It is not enough for a vocation director to enter a high school or a college for the purpose of giving yet another career-day presentation. One must enter a college or high school to stay and to witness. As St. Francis of Assisi once told his fol-lowers, "Preach the gospel. Use words if necessary." I served the Dodge City diocese for two years as director of vocations, a short tenure that corresponds to the national average. There are no Catholic high schools in this very rural diocese. Many young people growing up there have never met a religious sister. Parish communities tend to be solid and wholesome, but pastoring tends to be short in tenure. As in many places in the Review for Religious country, beleaguered pastors are only too happy to turn over youth work to lay volunteers. Is it any surprise that young people choose to remain among the laity when they have been led and inspired by lay leaders? I am in no way indicting the collaboration of the laity in this and other ministerial venues. The question is one of collaboration and presence. Ordained priests and deacons and religious women and men bring with them a symbol-laden presence of Christ. When they disappear from the scene, much more is lost than another set of hands. After almost a year of consultation with the religious con-gregations of women at work in the diocese, we began a project that was seen as preliminary discipleship formation. We brought young men and women together to live for a weekend with priests -and religious. The students prayed with them and received from them basic instruction in prayer techniques and discernment. The key, as we saw it, was simply that they encountered priests and religious. We tried to create opportunities for sparks to fly. I am currently involved in a similar project with the diocese of Columbus. Essential to the success of such a program, however, is the ability to identify those who are already leaders and who dis-play the requisite vocational qualities as well. (I have written about this in "Discerning Vocations," in the 1 May 1993 issue of America.) Liberating Youth There is yet another theol.ogical supposition behind the methodology of these weekend experiences. For anyone to respond to the call of God in vocation, freedom is required. Sin, in all its varieties and ramifications, keeps us from being free and thus impedes our response to God's initiative. The Holy Father again offers a worthy perspective: Freedom. is essential to vocation, a freedom which when it gives a positive response appears as a deep personal adher-ence, as a loving gift or rather as a gift given back to the giver who is God who calls, an oblation: "The call," Paul VI once said, "is as extensive as the response. There cannot be vocations unless they be free, that is, unless they be spon-taneous offerings of oneself, Conscious, generous, total . Oblations, we call them: here lies in practice the heart of the matter . It is the humble and penetrating voice of Christ, who says, today, as yesterday, and even more than Septentber-October 1996 Klein ¯ Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life yesterday: Come. Freedom reaches its supreme foundation: precisely that of oblation, of generosity, of sacrifice." (PDV §36) The methodological presupposition of those working with potential candidates for vocations of special consecration should be that they are not yet free. They are restrained by forces per-sonal, spiritual, sociological, cultural, and even biological. All of these taken together are what St. Paul refers to as the flesh which is at war with the spirit. The categories are worth some explana-. tion, even though space admits of only a few examples. On the level of the personal, candidates may present them-selves for ministry because their poor self-image demands a role in life which creates a seemingly instant image of respect. Or, conversely, potential candidates may be unable even to consider a ministerial vocation because their self-image is entirely too neg-ative. They may want to consider priesthood or religious life, but only after they have put themselves together spiritually. Their idea would be, "When I have overcome sin, I will consider such a life." What is lacking here is the comprehension that a life of apostolic charity may be the very instrument that the Holy Spirit desires to use for the person's redemption. All programs of formation have as their agenda the progres-sive liberation of candidates from all of the forces that would keep their choice for or against vocation from being truly free. I now work part-time in a college seminary, and I would say that our raison d'etre is exactly this, to free young men and make them ready to respond. Hence, the necessity for directors of vocations to create or support structures that teach young people the fun-damentals of Christian life and at least a basic knowledge of how to discern the work of the Holy Spirit in their life. Of course, any adequate Christian anthropology would insist that, ultimately, humanity is freed, or healed, only by the inter-venient action of God. Wholeness was an attribute of God long before it became a goal of the recovery movement. That being true, only prayer, which represents an actual encounter with God, can effect freedom, or healing, or wholeness. Only the intimacy bf prayer creates disciples, and only disciples, even if they be merely nascent ones, can respond to God's call to a lifetime of. consecrated service. So the discipleship programs sponsored by recruiters must have three elements: direct personal contact with hero-mentors, pedagogical formation in the fundamentals of Review for Religious Christian belief and practice, and an opportunity for growth in prayer. My past experience as the director of spiritual formation in a college seminary program reinforces this triad. I am personally convinced that many people move towards and away from voca-tions to the priesthood and religious life without developing even a modicum of spiritual intimacy. I doubt that this phe-nomenon is new. I suspect it has been a continual struggle and task in every house where formation occurs. I am certainly not presenting my own limited experience as the answer to the vocation crisis. What I am arguing is that success in the future willprobably demand that vocation personnel actually do some of the work of initial formation in disci-pleship. I think it would be fair to say that what I am really suggesting is that those charged with the recruitment and guid-ance of ministerial vocations see them-selves as being, after the family, among the first of young people's mentors of forma-tion. A certain amount of formation, or growth in Christian discipleship, is needed before potential candidates are ready for entry into formalized preparatory pro- What I am really suggesting is that those charged with the recruitment and guidance of ministerial vocations see themselves as being, after the family, among the first of young people's mentors of formation. grams. Previously this formation was the work of other Catholic institutions, but the presumption that others have already pre-pared such candidates is no longer tenable, and ignoring the shift that has occurred will leave recruiters wondering what happened to all the vocations. The Formation of the Formers In January 1994 the Roman Congregation for Catholic Education (of Seminaries and Institutes of Study), under the lead-ership of Cardinal Pio Laghi, released Directives Concerning the Preparation of Seminary Educators. The work considers the for-mation of those charged with formation. It notes that a unique combination of talent, charism, experience, and education must Septentber-October 1996 Klein ¯ Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life exist if a person doing formation work is to find the experience productive and personally rewarding: The vocation of the educator.implies, on the one hand, a certain "charism," which is expressed in gifts of nature and of grace, and, on the other, certain capacities and attitudes that must be acquired. In every consideration regarding the personality of the educator, this double aspect must be kept in mind; each of the characteristics desirable in a seminary educator presents elements which are, in a manner of speak-ing, innate, and others which must be progressively devel-oped by means of study and experience. (Directives §25) The formati'on of vocation directors can be considered along these same lines of thought. To begin with, though, readers may be wondering whether any such formation actually exists. It does. To their credit, national organizations have done much to provide neophytes in the field with at least that quintessential American pedagogical experience called the workshop conference. Actually a great deal of formal information is imparted at such gatherings, and the opportunity for informal guidance by those more expe-rienced in the work is incalculable. Also, it seems safe to assume that the formation which voca-tion directors receive for their own religious life or priesthood is itself a real and efficacious, albeit remote, preparation for the specific ministries of vocational recruitment, discernment, and guidance. By means of a broad education, formation programs are supposed to equip their students to enter diverse ministries without particular, prolonged preparation. The liberal arts should prepare us for a future that will always be ambiguous. The Directives do the church a real service in publicly dis-cussing the'criteria for evaluating persons being considered for seminary formation work. Rectors and bishops have, of course, always used some sort of criteria, but the document makes it pos-sible for those unnamed and perhaps unexamined criteria to be discussed and evaluated in an open forum. This is good: open collaboration tends to expose the weaknesses any individual's approach may have. It also reinforces and propagates strengths. I would like to conclude my observations by offering a crite-rion for identifying which candidates, among the many doing ministry in the church, are likely to do best at the ministry of vocational recruitment. The evaluative question I would pose is this: Are they community builders? Review for Relig%us Ecclesia: Community of the Summoned Consider what vocations to the priesthood or religious life really are. They are calls from God the Father to serve Christ by serving the community which is the church. Vocations have their ¯genesis and scope in community life. They are instruments of God in bringing together the "community of the summoned": the ecclesia (in New Testament Greek), the "church." They exist to Order to nourish, to enliven, and to augment the church. "In the church's very name, ecclesia, we find its deep vocational aspect, for the church is a 'convocation,' an assembly of those who have been called" (PDV §34). Referring to priestly vocations, the Holy.Father has noted, "In this context the ecclesi-ology of communion becomes decisive for understanding the identity of the priest, his essential dignity and his voca-tion and mission among the people of. God and in the world" (PDV§12). Certainly the many theological, pas-toral, and liturgical changes that occurred with the Second Vatican Council have had, among their effects, a disturbing of the relative tranquillity that should normally characterize a healthy institution. Most Catholics are willing to admit, however, that the disturbance has been outweighed by the renewal of evan-gelical life that the council has inaugurated in the church. I do not think vocations dropped because of the conciliar reforms (although their implementation may have occasioned a number of new problems). Rather, I believe that communal val-ues and communities themselves are being undermined by con-temporary life. The disintegration of vibrant communities into increasingly isolated individuals and solipsistic agendas is a prob-lem not only for the church, but also for modern technological society as a whole. Consider the changes that have occurred in the latter half of this century. The superhighways that now connect huge metropolises across vast stretches of land have rendered superfluous many small communities that once prospered between those cities. They have The disintegration of vibrant communities into increasingly isolated individuals and solipsistic agendas is a problem not only for the church, but also for modern technological society as a whole. Septe~nber-October 1996 Klein * Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life. also restructured urban life itself. Distinct intra-urban neighbor-hoods once flourished because it took time to move from one side of the city to another. Today mass merchandising has sup-pressed small, community-enhancing workshops and businesses. With the disappearance of the family farm went the collapse Of the small town and the small rural parish. The knowledge explosion made possible by the computer age has created a world of spe-cialization that renders small hospitals, small colleges, and other small institutions seemingly superfluous. Endangered by the collapse of these communities are the communal values upon which cultural life depends. Increasingly undifferentiated national media now serve a country such as the United States, but, instead of promoting communal values, they seem only to be forums where increasingly strident and diverse views make themselves heard. One can now ask at the end of the 20th century: Who are we? Is there any we left among us? The collapse of a communal identity is certainly a formative influence on those presenting themselves as candidates for min-istry. Many of the candidates with whom I have worked came to the seminary out of a faith experience which is highly individu-alistic, often with little or no contact with the institutional church. This can be viewed as a sign of the Holy Spirit raising up leaders even beyond the reaches of contemporary church ministry--it is, after all, how the church received the gift of St. Paul's vocation. But it also raises the challenge of how to link the individual's own experience with that of the larger Christian community. Remember that Paul spent three years undergoing a process of communal immersion before beginning his ministerial life (see Ga 1:18). If the basic presuppositions of New Age spirituality were to be catalogued, certainly a useful project given their pervasive influ-ence, a foundational tenet would undoubtedly be the absolute, almost solipsistic, supremacy of the individual. Spirituality itself is seen not as a relational mystery which envelopes and possesses the human person, but as yet another object to be acquired by an individual whose weltanschauung is essentially that of the con-sumer. Pastores dabo vobis is trenchant in this regard: In the present context there is also a certain tendency to view the bond between human beings and God in an indi-vidualistic and self-centered way, as if God's call reached the individual by a direct route without in any way passing Review for Religious through the community. Its purpose is held to be the ben-efit, or the very salvation, of the individual called and not a total dedication to God in the service of the community. We thus find another very deep and at the same time sub-de threat which makes it impossible to recognize and accept joyfully the ecclesial dimension which naturally marks every Christian vocation, and the priestly vocation in particular: as the council reminds us, priestly ministry acquires its gen-uine meaning and attains to its fullest truth in serving and in fostering the growth of the Christian community and the common priesthood of the faithful. (PDV§37) Community Belonging Vocations are needed for communities, and they come out of communities. Their entire genesis and purpose are involved in communal life. Vocations are on the decline in the church today because communal life is waning. One simply does not offer one-self for ministry to a community if one has never felt oneself to be a part of a community. I suspect that, if Catholicism persists in declining as a communal way of life, vocations will continue to evaporate. Lives are to be offered to other people and to the God whom we encounter in others. If postghetto Catholicism is not a place of meaningful and life-giving encounter with others, if it becomes iust another competing intellectual system or a political agenda, then it will cease being a living organism that inspires men and women to sacrifice their futures for its continuance. One does not bring oneself to Pope Paul VI's notion of personal obla-tion without being able to envision the faces of real men and women for whom. the offering is made. How can anyone expect vocations to be fostered unless it be through community building and sustenance? Other sociological structures once existed to create the communities upon which vocational recruiters could depend. Those structures have either disappeared or found themselves transformed into priestless and sisterless entities. I suspect, however, that community building still will show itself to be the single most important quality that postghetto Catholic education offers the American church. How poignant, then, is this quality of community building which the Directives insist should characterize formational ministry: It can be said that the educator is authentic in his service and responds to the demands of his priestly ideal only in the measure to which he knows how to commit himself and Septe~nber-October 1996 Klein * Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life sacrifice himself for the unity of the community and when in his thoughts, in his attitudes, and in his prayer he reflects concern for the union and the cohesion of the community entrusted to him. (Directives §29) Who needs to be in vocation work today? Who has the apti-tude? Those who can build communities. People who have shown an ability to unite other people around them. Those who can effectively enunciate the common values and longings of a human-ity destined for Trinitarian communion. If recruiting were the only task facing vocation personnel today, a good-looking face, a fast car, and call-forwarding would suffice. Recruiters today need to examine their venues and identify vibrant Christian communities. This is where they need to be. Sadly enough, in many situations they will need to help create such communities from scratch. I do not think that I am offering merely another theological or pastoral perspective. On the con-trary, I am begging recognition of a sociological certainty that creates both a pastoral imperative and an ecclesial opportunity. JUST PUBLISHED-- The Best of the Review - 5 The Church and Consecrated Life (see insert at back of book for ordering) "At a time when hope for religious life and its future is once again on the rise, the articles in this book offer an exceptional and much needed panorama of the critical issues of renewal faced by contemporary men and women religious. Elizabeth McDonough and David Fleming have done us an enormous favor in bringing together the Best of the Review in this area. I recommend this book enthusiastically; its authors take us another step along the journey to that future for religious life for which we all long." --Se~nSammon FMS Vicar General Marist Brothers, Rome ¯ Review for Religious MICHAEL TIDD Reflections of a Fin de Si cle Novice During their novitiate experiences, all religious, in one way or another, examine the identity and purpose of their respective congregations. In this era of religious life--in the wake of Vatican Council II and at the end of the 20th century--this essay is a personal reflection on the mysterious and profound experience of the novitiate of the Brothers of the Christian Schools in the United States today. Two questions frame this reflection: How am I being formed? and what am I being formed for? I hope that my responses bring a helpful perspective to pres-ent- day views of American religious life. Five years of community experience have vividly demonstrated that words like formation and novitiate carry many meanings. Often brothers' memories of formation are bittersweet. For readers of this article, the words probably conjure up all sorts of images. Most of these readers are likely to be religious whose formation occurred before or during Vatican Council II. For me Vatican II is as immediate as Trent and even Nicea, for I was not born until 1970. I am wholly a product of the post-Nicene, post-Tridentine, post-Vatican church. My formation is radically different from that of my brothers of the pre-Vatican era, both in theory and external practice. My novitiate time comes after five years of experience in community and the apostolate. Thus, it is less an initiation than a time for analysis and integration of my experiences as a Christian Brother. Michael Tidd FSC lives at Christian Brothers' Novitiate; Roosevelt Hall; One Tallcot Lane; Skaneateles, New York 13152. September-October 1996 Tidd * Reflections of a Fin de Si~cle Novice This integration occurs in the context of prayer and study: of the gospel, the church, the charism of our founder (John Baptist de La Salle), our Rule, our vows, our efforts at renewal since Vatican II, and issues of personal development and self-awareness. Compared with the intense schedule of yore, ours is decep-tively simple. Large blocks of time are discretionary. The indi-vidual is responsible for developing his life of prayer and study without the framework of an all-embracing fixed schedule of reli-gious exercises and study times. Our schedule for common prayer (morning and evening prayer, daily Mass both at home and in the local parish) is scant compared with the novitiate timetable of our former Rule.l Indeed, the Rule itself, revised after thirty years of experi-mentation beginning in 1956, is no longer oriented toward ful-fillment of obligations. It is couched largely in inspirational language, more exhortative than legal. Evaluation of the novice's suitability for the brother's vocation is based less on observance of the Rule's prescriptions than on his total aptitude (spiritual, intel-lectual, emotional, psychosexual) for our way of life. The devel-opment of the individual as a human being is weighed equally with his spiritual and intellectual progress. The crux of the difference between the modern novitiate and the earlier one lies in the time to oneself in the novitiate. This involves both theoretical and practical discontinuities. Formerly, the theoretical aim was to be "formed," shaped according to an abstract model of the ideal Christian Brother. The dual instru-ments of the Rule and the director of novices molded the novice into a brother. The novice was exhorted, and ideally strove, to let himself be recast in this form, leaving his past (and self) behind. The practical discontinuities were many. Life was lived by the schedule, with few if any choices about how time was spent. Influences on one's development were carefully regulated by Rule and director. Exact observance of the Rule was the primary virtue: inasmuch as one did so, one incarnated the community's charism and was making progress in this way of life. In the present novitiate, formation might not be the appro-priate term anymore. Present-day novices "form themselves" rather than "are formed by external agents." They do this by eval-uating prior and present choices in the light of the gospel and of the community's charism and life. Daily I confront issues such as personal prayer, interpersonal relationships, study, participation in Review for Religious the-lectures and conferences, the common labor needed to main-tain the house. I learn about religious life, the community's charism, and human development from religious, secular, lay, and clerical sources. The director of novices still plays a crucial role: he is the agent of accountability, calling me to reconcile my lived choices with the norms of our life. He is the one who helps the novice avoid the trap of self-delusion and evaluates the quality of one's self-formation. The modern novice, then, is like a sculptor who, in his choices of daily living, chips away at his raw material to shape something new: himself. The novice sculpts in the light of guidance from the Holy Spirit, the gospel, the charism and life of De La Salle, and the insti-tute's tradition being lived by his brothers and himself. Without a normal job and in relative separation from one's familiars, one lacks all the usual props. Daily I encounter three basic realities: God, my brothers, and myself. All of this can be harrowing, as questions of identity and ontology emerge. Two options appear: growth, however painful, or escape and denial. Even here it is possible to fill the. day with trivialities, ducking the hard questions. I could "make the novitiate" without any real change, but that would be a colossal waste of time. Ultimately, the choice is in my hands. There will be nothing to hide behind down the line if real conversion does not happen here, a conversion for which I must take responsibili.ty before God. The vows are less the end of the novitiate, then, than a beginning. They are the public beginning of a life already being defined by the consequences of my present choices, choices made in response to the call of God as perceived in the daily events of existence: "For this command which I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you . No, it is something very near to you, already in your mouths, and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out" (Deuteronomy 30:11 and 14, NAB). In her book The Fire in These Ashes: A Spirituality of Contemporary Religious Life, Joan Chittister OSB aptly describes the dilemma of modern religious: "They want to know if there is anything going on now [emphasis mine] to prove that religious life remains worth the sacrifice of their own lives. Is there anything The crux of the difference between the modern novitiate and the earlier one lies in the time to oneself in the novitiate. Septonber-October 1996 Tidd¯ Reflections of a Fin de Si~cle Novice still life-giving here? Is there anything yet valuable enough to go on doing here? New members want to know if there is anything here that merits their coming to do, their coming to be.''2 In the novitiate I have understood her questions thus: For what am I being formed? In 1996 in the United States~ what is the life of the Brother of the Christian Schools for which I am preparing? The question is very specific because I am convinced that this process is not designed to create an abstract "religious," but a member of a specific community guided by a unique charism. Much contemporary literature on religious life leaves me vaguely disappointed. I do not see much written by those who will be around when the future of religious life will have become the present. More fundamentally, the discussion is so future oriented and spec-ulative that it leaves me wondering what we are to do here and now. I am not left rudderless, fortunately. God's command is not far away; it is close at hand. Since I see the novitiate's meaning as preparation for living as a Brother of the Christian Schools in 1996 and in 2006 and 2016 as well, I look to the community's intellectual and spiritual patrimony for a definition of that broth-erhood right now. The inspired work of many brothers has pro-duced two texts that address the threefold challenge of Perfectae caritatis: recommitment to the gospel, recovery of the founder's charism, and adapted renewal in the light of the signs of the times (see §2). These documents are The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration and our Rule of 1986. In thefin de si~cle, these texts provide clear, powerful, and dynamic state-ments of our identity and purpose. They are lights amidst the darkness of the waning millennium. The Declaration is a charismatic statement issued by our 39th General Chapter in 1967. It was prompted in part by its response to the question of introducing the priesthood into the community. The chapter rejected that innovation, saying what we are not and then issuing a positive proclamation of what we are. The modern Brother of the Christian Schools is a layman who, in response to a call from God, totally consecrates himself to the glory of the Trinity by public profession of vows. His total consecration of himself has its roots in his baptismal consecration.3 In an entirely lay institute, the brother places himself at the service of others in the context of a community "totally dedicated to the kingdom of God." Consecrated in community, he specifies his life of ser- Review for Religious vice to others in an educational mission "with special preference for the poor." Regardless of the social class of those he immedi-ately deals with, the brother totally orients his work towards the promotion of justice and those "whose poverty hinders their devel-opment as persons or their aptitude to receive the message of sal-vation revealed in Jesus Christ." The brother integrates his proclamation of the gospel with the total human development of his students and sees the school as "the pre-ferred but not the only means" of achieving the institute's mission.4 The Declaration stresses the fundamental aspects of our vocation as Brothers of the Christian Schools (neatly summarized twenty years later in the Rule): "consecration to God as a lay religious, apostolic ministry of edu-cation, especially of the poor, and community life.''5 The Declaration was for us the great clarion call to conversion in the wake of Vatican II. Indeed, in 1967 Brother Charles Henry Buttimer, then superior general, wrote: "It is. in light of the Declaration that we must read and under-stand the other texts of our General Chapter, including the [pro-visional] Rule and Constitutions. It is the basis of the doctrine you will find in each of them.''6 Making the bold ideals of the Declaration reality was the task of the institute in the years fol-lowing 1967, as the great revision of the Rule began. The Declaration's synthetic idea of our vocation is rooted deeply in the charism of John Baptist de La Salle. In response to a double contemplation of the needs of the poor and God's plan of salvation for all, he founded a community of brothers on the following basis. "The spirit of this Institute is a spirit of faith, which should induce those .who compose it not to look upon any-thing but with the eyes of faith, not to ~1o anything but in view of God, and to attribute all to God, [with the result that there is] an ardent zeal for the instruction of children [and] to procure the salvation of the children confided to their care." Internalizing this spirit is "of the utmost importance . The novices [should] apply themselves to acquire it; and those that are already members [should] make it their first care to preserve and increase it in themselves . "Those who failed to do so were to be considered "dead members.''7 These texts of the recent and distant past speak Much contemporary literature on religious life leaves me vaguely disappointed. Septentber-October 1996 Tidd ¯ Reflections o[a Fin de Si~cle Novice to the present as much as to the times which occasioned them. They address the essence of questions of identity and sustaining vision, questions which seem to bedevil many religious commu-nities today. The Rule coexists with the Declaration as a statement of iden-tity and purpose inasmuch as it is the fruit of over thirty years of experimentation and of applying the visionary statements of the Declaration. In addition (moreso than the Declaration) it bene-fits from the recovery of the real person of De La Salle through modern critical scholarship, a man long obscured by a profile more hagiographical than historical. The Rule, then, makes the call of the council real: it renews and adapts our understanding of our vocation as Brothers of the Christian Schools by pointing out a dynamic relationship between the challenges of modernity and our founding charism. As in the first 'rules of the community, pro-duced by De La Salle in collaboration with the brothers them-selves, the Rule is the work of the entire congregation, through successive general chapters and consultation with thousands of brothers around the world. It is a coherent and convincing description of this way of life and its raison d'etre. Both documents elaborate a fundamental principle: The brother's vocation is an all-encompassing way of life in unhesi-tatin~ response to the call of God in the depths of the brother's heart. Seeing in the life of the brother far more than the aposto-late or the vows alone is the key to the coherence and intelligibility of our identity, today and in the future. For several decades the brothers' mission of education has been shared with other religious, priests, and lay people. This reality. has been examined and embraced bysuccessive general chapters as a manifestation of the Holy Spirit in its life today. We have much to share with those who seek to define their profession as an apos-tolic mission in the spirit and tradition of John Baptist de La Salle. Such sharing and dialogue is ongoing all over the world.8 This recognition, however, forces the brothers to refine their identity even more sharply. The common apostolate alone simply will no longer suffice as an answer to the question of identity, given the signs of the times. Our identity as Brothers of the Christian Schools must transcend mission and reach to the very depths of our being. The chapter of 1966-67 articulated an initial, charismatic vision of the Brother of the Christian Schools today, and the Rule Review for Religious of 1986 specifies and refines that identity even further, in the light of ongoing renewal and lived experience since 1967. What makes us brothers is not solely our work, but the living integra-tion of the constitutive elements: consecration, community, mis-sion. Each must be related in dynamic harmony to the others. No single element should obscure the others. The importance of consecration as witness, lived in commu-nity and expressed by public vows, is evidenced by the Rule's claim that it is our "first apostolate." This mode of living indicates the transcendent action of God in our world, and points towards the covenant between God and human beings. The common life is essential to our identity for two reasons. First, the brothers need the mutuality and sharing of community life for their spiritual and human develop-ment. Second, our brotherhood in com-munity and our "selfless presence among those [the brothers] serve" is to "witness to the possibility of creating true broth-erhood among nations.''9 Our mission of teaching is rooted in our very foundation as a community. De La Salle brought his first schoolmasters into community and gave them a profound spirituality--the Christian teacher as an ambassador of Jesus Christ--in order to make the mission of Christian education possible and fruitful. We do the same today, for the same reason. "The Brothers, in fidelity to the call of the Spirit and the charism of their Founder, consecrate themselves to God in order to exercise, by association, their apostolic ministry of education" (emphasis mine).~° What does all this mean in terms of the purpose of the novi-tiate? Our statements of identity tell me that it is my consecrated life in community which I bring to the mission and which sus-tain me in it. Since this integrated totality is what makes a brother's life different from that of other persons who share in the apostolate of Christian education, the interiorization of con-secrated life in community and for the mission is what I must be about this year. What must concern me this year and during my entire life as a brother is not simply what I am to do, but how I am to live. I should be about the living of a life of ongoing con- The brother's vocation is an all-encompassing way of life in unhesitating response to the call of God in the depths of the brother's heart. Septentber-October 1996 Tidd¯ R~flections o~a Fin de Si~cle Novice version--to the Jesus of the Gospels and to the poor--the same evangelical journey that inspired John Baptist de La Salle to leave behind his former vocation as a canon of Reims and begin anew.n The very elements that seem so out of proportion here in the novitiate (prayer/consecration and community life) are precisely those habits of the mind and heart I must take with me back into the apostolate. Those realities are the soil from which the brother can hope to draw nourishment for the demands of the aposto-late. If he fails to. attend to the soil, the flower of his apostolic work will soon wither and die. If consecration and community become mere slogans or, even worse, contradictions to my daily life, my life as a brother will be in vain. Insofar as I embody the spirit of faith and zeal and express it in a community life that is lived fully, then my work will be Lasallian and my novitiate and my brotherhood will have meaning, both in the fin de si~cle and beyond. "I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. Choose life, that you and your descendants may live" (Deuteronomy 3 0:19). Notes ~ Thirty-seventh General Chapter, Rule of Government of the Institute of the Brothers of the Christian Schools (Rome, 1947), pp. 192-193. This document was abrogated by the 39th General Chapter of 1966-1967;.all subsequent references to the Rule are to the text promulgated in 1987 after the 41st General Chapter of 1986. 2 Joan Chittister OSB, The Fire in These Ashes: A Spirituality of Contemporary Religious Life (Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1995), p. viii. 3 Thirty-ninth General Chapter, The Brothers of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration (Winona: St. Mary's College Press, 1968), article 13:1,2, p. 12. The author is indebted and grateful to Brothers Gerard Rummery FSC, Michael McKenery FSC, and Luke Salm FSC, whose novitiate lectures and informally shared insights were invaluable in this essay's preparation. The Declaration's genesis and enduring signifi-cance is well presented in Brother Luke's Religious Institute in Transition: The Story of Three General Chapters (Romeoville, Illinois: Christian Brothers Publications, 1992). 4 Declaration, articles 13:3, 4, 5, and 6. s Forty-first General Chapter, The Rule of the Brothers of the Christian Schools (Rome: Tipografia S.G.S., 1987), p. 27. 6 Foreword to the Declaration, p. iv. 7. John Baptist de La Salle. "De l'esprit de cet Institut," ROgles Communes (1718 ed.), in Rule, pp. 15-17; Rule, p. 15. s Rule, articles 17-17d and 146. Review for Religious 9 Rule, articles 24 and 9. lO Rule, art. 2. ~ This concept of De La Salle's life as an evangelical journey is superbly treated in St. John Baptist de La Salle: Announcing the Gospel to the Poor, by Brothers Michel Sauvage FSC and Miguel Campos FSC (Romeoville: Christian Brothers Conference, 1981). Presence Silence and stillness of night. How so? My eyes, my ears cry: False! Clouds scud cross a moon face; branches stretch and bend, flip, whip, and bow; leaves shiver, quiver, quake; whispers, trills, chirps, and whistles perforate the air. Stillness and silence? Not true. Yet there is a sense that knows it is so. But what? A minus of mortal motion ? A vacuum of virile voice? Perhaps, yet, more, I think. The airs of skin tingle and respond to it; an inward ear is pricked; a sacred presence permeates the space; a sacred voicelessness resounds within my soul around my self where I am held all stilled to wait to thirst to hunger a-lone. all one. Doris Bissonnette RJM September-October 1996 breaking boundaries 494 CLEMENTE BARRON Racism and Religious Life I did not learn about racism by taking sociological courses in school. I learned about racism by being born a Mexican- American in Texas in these United States. In the 1940s and 1950s, the decades in which I was born and raised, racism was an acceptable way of life. It was woven into the very fabric of our social and political life, our educa-tional and economic systems, and even into the way we practiced our Catholic faith. I did not have a choice in this matter, nor did my family or any of the other people who made up my world at that time. The existence of racism does not depend upon an indi-vidual's say-so, or even upon many people saying that it does or does not exist. I am sure that many of the public-opinion polls taken during the '50s and '60s were saying that racism existed only in isolated sections of the United States. Yet we now look back at that era of American his-tory and find many examples of racism in every segment of our society. Racism exists because it has been with us from the very beginning of our history. It continues to assert itself everywhere until someone or some movement challenges it. It will not disappear on its own. The gains the United States has made in regard to racism are mea-sured by wars, lives, and the heroic witness of courageous people, regardless of their position in society. Most of the Clemente Barr6n CP has worked with Hispanics during the twenty-five years of his priestly ministry. He lives at Casa Pasionista Guadalupe; 700 Waverly; San Antonio, Texas 78201. Review for Religious time these people had no special awareness of making any sig-nificant contributions to the eradication of racism. They just wanted a more just society for themselves and their children. It is not easy to write about racism. It is especially not easy when one is writing for a readership that shares the same faith or even the same vows and way of life or the same commitment to a social-justice agenda. It becomes still more difficult when all three of these factors are present. Yet it is the same sense of God, the same shared values, and the same commitment to justice that give me confidence to express these experiences and considerations of racism. There are many misunderstandings when it comes to racism. People do not know how to converse about racism as brothers and sisters in an open and free exchange of thoughts, opinions, and ideas. Many other issues get in the way of a good conversation on this subject. People of color tend to get angry and vitriolic and people of the dominant society tend to feel hurt or guilty when they talk about the subject. People of color often assume a victim's stance. People of the dominant society often separate themselves personally from racism: "Why are we making a fuss about this now since we are not racists?" Frequently people of color offer cosmetic solutions to this deeply complex, multilayered issue, while people of the dominant society offer solutions that address their own needs but not those of the people of color. The result is that we talk at each other, preach to each other, and instruct each other, but rarely have a good conversation with each other. Complexities of Racism This whole issue becomes even more complicated when we place this conversation within the context of religion and reli-gious life. Church teaching looks upon racism as evil and has rightly condemned it. In this context, racism is talked about in terms of sin, even as one of the most serious sins of our time. When we enter into a conversation about racism at this level, we highly personalize the issue. No one wants to begin a discussion with the feeling that she or he is being iudged a public sinner. Yet many religious feel that way when ~he discussion is about racism. Such a starting point makes for a poor conversation. On the other hand, many of us may not be aware of our racism just because we do not think of ourselves as racist; in fact, Septentber-October 1996 Barr6n * Racism and Religious Life we can identify many instances that demonstrate to us that we .are not racist. We do not want to be racist, and we believe that we are not, just on the basis of sheer willpower. Yet those of us who have tried to overcome addictive habits by sheer Willpower know that it takes more than goodwill to overpower a deeply ingrained habit or way of life. Defining Racism Racism is not easy to define. People of color tend to have a different definition and understanding of it than those of the dominant culture. People of color usually define racism as insti-tutionalized prejudice; since they do not control our society's insti-tutions, they do not consider themselves racists in the strict sense. People of the dominant culture have a difficulty with this concept because to them it says that people of color cannot be prejudiced--which is not true at all. People of color are just as prejudiced as other people. When it comes to racism, the issue is not prejudice; it is institutionalized prejudice. This is a classic case of one group wanting to focus on what is common (prejudice) and the other wanting to focus on what is not (control of insti-tutions). Progress is made when both sides accept each other's insights. Learning Racism I was not aware that I was living in a racist society when I was growing up in rural Texas. Life in the late '40s and '50s was hard, and in many ways society was pretty well defined. I was aware of the dos and don'ts of such a society. I knew that we lived in a part of town where most of the "mesicans" lived and that another part of town was "nigger town." I knew that our city offi-cials would always be "anglos" and the other leaders of our county and state would be, too. I could not conceive of a pastor or bishop being other than anglo. I knew that mesicans and niggers were not allowed to use the public facilities and fountains that anglos used. I also knew that we could not go into certain stores, like the bar-ber shop. It all seemed so normal. As time went by, other things became clearer. You just knew that you were not to do much socializing with those who were not of your ethnic grouping or race. At school the teachers were Review for Religious always careful to line us up so that we would be paired with our own kind. This was especially true in the lower grades, when we had to hold hands while standing in line. Somewhere along the weeks and years, you began to realize that socially it was not acceptable for you to date, much less think of marrying, anyone outside your ethnic or racial group. There were some exceptions, but the people involved in them were usually not socially acceptable in the first place. That was the way things were, and that was it. I do not remember my parents taking me aside to teach me the socialization rules of rural Texas. The time came when you just knew. You could have casual relationships with persons of another eth-nic or racial group. You could work for them and even beside them, but you just did not socialize with them on an equal basis. You just knew that, if push came to shove, you could not count on them. That is the way life was lived. Moreover, if you were a person of color, you felt you must project a friendly attitude at all times if you were going to be accepted by the dominant society. Someone who did not do that was seen as "not fitting in." Those who dared to demand rights and equality were considered troublemakers. This was brought home to us time and time again. In the early '60s, for example, when the civil-rights movement was begin-ning to peak, some of my friends went off to a Catholic college in San Antonio to continue their education. Home for the summer, a couple of them went to get a haircut at a barbershop owned by a member of the Knights of Columbus. They were refused service. They refused to leave. This caused a big scene. Eventually they left, but the incident produced a lot of ill feelings. These nice "Mexican" youths, accepted byall as hardworking and ambitious young men, had now become troublemakers. After a couple of years that barbershop was integrated, but I am sure that, in the eyes of many, these young men were marked for life as trouble-makers. We do not want to be racist, and we believe that we are not, just on the basis of sheer willpower. New Place, Old Ways I grew up in the era when the high-school seminary was a normal first step toward the priesthood and religious life. When L49 Septentber-Oaober 1996 Barrdn ¯ Racirm and Religious Life I expressed a desire to become a priest and religious, I was not sur-prised at all to be given the chance to attend a seminary prepara-tory high school. The school was in St. Louis, Missouri. Finding out if I had a vocation took me outside Texas for the first time, far away from my family and all familiar surroundings. It was only later on that I realized that the seminary prep school that I attended and the province I entered as a religious were, for me, extensions of the social realities of my youth in rural Texas. For me nothing had changed. The vast major.ity of my schoolmates were still anglos. All my superiors were anglos, too. I continued to see life around me through the same lenses I had used in rural Texas. I continued to use the same social categories and constructs that I had developed for myself in Texas. I was unable to realize that I had in fact been "liberated" from my Texas social environment and that I could really have new kinds of rela-tionships with others. Some experiences from my prep-school days come to mind and illustrate this point for me. In themselves these experiences are insignificant, yet like all experiences they shed light on what our life is about when seen within a wider context. For the first couple of years that I was at the prep school, we did not go home for the Christmas holidays. The big Christmas social event was the carnival. The seniors and college students would fix up the gym so that we could enjoy an evening of fun and games. It was a lot of hard work for them, but a lot of fun for us younger ones. At one of these events, a couple of guys wanted to take my picture and also wanted our picture to be taken together. I ran away from that all night long. I now believe they wanted me as a friend, and not just as a schoolmate, but I remember thinking at that time: "Why do they want a picture of me?" I remember, on another occasion, a classmate starting to play the piano on the spur of the moment in one of the music rooms. I started singing, and we had such a good time. When I was com-plimented on my singing, I remember being embarrassed. I said to myself: "I really do not know how to sing. He is just saying that!" I really did not recognize this as an affirmation and act of friendship until much later in my life. Another experience was a negative one. One day in my junior or senior year, I was put in charge of a work detail that involved getting the dry laundry sorted out into the individual laundry boxes. This was something new for me, being placed in charge of Review for ReliKious a work detail, and I was feeling good. As I made my way to the basement laundry room, I overheard a boy say to another in a normal voice: "I'm going back to the director and ask to work somewhere else. I'm not going to let a Mexican tell me what to do." I do not remember feeling much of anything. For me it was the exception for "Mexicans" to tell anglos what to do, regardless of education, expertise, or experience. That is the way life was then, and I accepted it. Upon reflection these experiences say something to me because I now see them within a social structure that hampered my power as an individual. I am not saying complete powerlessness, but certainly enough that my efforts to make it in life included special inhibitions about making any waves. While I recognize that there are some definite equalities in life and that all persons encounter some unjust situations that they must learn how to deal with boldly, I also know that some specific societal norms and customs made prisoners of me and others sharing my minority status. Racism and the'effects of racism were alive and well within my social environment, even in the prep school. The fact that I was not aware of all that was going on in terms of racism did not prevent my negative experience of racism. Awareness My first assignment after ordination in 1970 was to a retreat center in Houston, Texas. In the previous year a new association of Mexican-American priests had been formed: Padres Asociados para Derecbos Religiosos, Educativos, y Sociales (PADRES). Two rep-resentatives of PADRES came to visit me shortly after my arrival; we had a long talk. They were recruiting me for the organiza-tion. They talked to me about racism and discrimination in the church against Hispanics. I kept telling them that I did not feel discriminated against, and I did not think that our community was racist. While I could accept the fact that we lived in a racist society and that some people we lived with were racist, I had not yet come to an acceptance that my church was racist, much less my province. I thought I had really escaped racism. Only later did I discover that I had not escaped it; I had merely (and conveniendy) denied its existence within mylife experience. One reason why I began to reevaluate my position on this issue was my involvement with Hispanics at all levels of my life. L499-- September-October 1996 Barrdn ¯ Raci.rm and Religious Life We generally do not think about how social constructs such as words and language, policies and directives, and administrative and organizational structures welcome certain peopie or groups of people and exclude others. -- oo I began to listen to the stories of the Hispanic peoples who were becoming part of my ministerial life. I also began to appreciate the life stories of my own family as I heard them being repeated at family celebrations and gatherings. Every time I visited my aunts and uncles, I heard how difficult it was to be Hispanic and work for the church. It would be a mistake to assume that these people, my relatives and those I accompa-nied in ministry, were bitter and dis-illusioned people. There came a point at which I realized that these accounts were testimonies of peo-ple who loved the church even though they had suffered much at its hands. The most common theme woven through these stories was exclusion on the basis of ethnicity. Some were told in anger, some in resignation, and others just as com-mentaries to life. A fe.w of them may illustrate what I mean. When my parents would talk about their wed-ding day in 1935, they would tell us how they had to drive to the "Mexican" Church for their cere-mony. This church was, in reality, a mission of the parish church, a good ten miles away. We did not need much explanation, for we knew that Mexicans were not wel-comed in the main parish church. My mother also talked about how they had to stop for an hour or so in town on their way back home. They were very hun-gry and thirsty by the time they got there, since they had fasted from midnight to receive Holy Communion. They had to eat in the park.like area in front of the courthouse, because no restaurant would be open to them. In 1973 I began working in Los Angeles at a parish that had been forced into having a Sunday Mass in Spanish because the pastor did not think that there were enough Spanish-speaking parishioners within th~ parish boundaries. The parish finally put in a Spanish Mass after being pressured by a few vocal people. This change had taken place a year before I started working there Revie-w for Religious on weekends. By the time I left that parish to move on to another assignment in October 1975, a good deal of growth had taken place. We had standing room only at the Spanish Mass, a choir, eight Movimiento Familiar Cristiano (CFM) reflection groups that met every two weeks, a catechetical program in Spanish for more than 120 children, two Hispanic men who had applied to become (and eventually did become) deacons, and other signs of life and growth. What this said to me was that Hispanics who had been liv-ing in the area for years did not become involved in church life until there were pastoral leaders ready to welcome and support them. In more recent times, in a Los Angeles rectory, about a dozen of us who had gathered for a penance service were engaged in a lot of shoptalk around the dinner table. The talk came around to the different ethnic groups in the archdiocese, particularly the Spanish-speaking. One of the more recently ordained priests-- from a parish that had had a poor turnout for the Lenten penance service--wondered out loud why "these people" needed to have services in Spanish. A couple of nights later, for a penance service in a parish that does its best to serve various language groups, the church was packed. I heard confessions in English and Spanish for more than two hours. Over a dozen priests heard confessions in English, Spanish, and Vietnamese. A Deeper Analysis I cite these comparative incidents to illustrate institutional racism, even in the Catholic Church, and also to show that racism is not always intentional, malicious, or premeditated. In fact, I believe that in the majority of cases we are unaware that racism is operative in our lives. I believe that most people of good heart and goodwill have not reflected sufficiently on how social structures affect their ~lay-to-day lives. Our society's mores and laws have to a great extent come to exist, not in order to promote the reign 6f God, but to protect what the more wealthy and powerful incline to hoard for themselves. We generally do not think about how social constructs such as words and language, policies and direc-tives, and administrative and organizational structures welcome certain people or groups of people and exclude others. Racism is much more ingrained than we believe it is. Furthermore, even when there is recognition and formal repu- September-October 1996 Barr6n ¯ Racism and Religious Life diation of institutional racism, it becomes a major struggle to do something about it. It is not easy to change societal constructs, whether they be words, policies, or organizational structures. Along with our sense of guilt, we also experience a sense of help-lessness. We want to do something, we want to make a statement, we want to do the right thing; but, faced with the immense real-ity of it all, we do not know what to do. My Dealing with Racism I am aware of some evolution that has taken place within myself as I have struggled to understand the reality of racism. One of my earliest reactions to racism was the belief that making people alert to racism, aware of it, and acquainted with it would be enough to make them change their ways of thinking and act-ing. My task became one of revealing and unmasking the evil of racism so that racists would convict themselves and change, or feel the guilt of not changing. I really believed that people of good heart and goodwill would change, be converted, once they saw their own racism. So I became involved (and I still am) in programs and projects to raise the people's level of awareness regarding racism. I think that one reason why great numbers of people have been turned off by consciousness-raising is the way many "social-justice types" presented their case. Their rhetoric is often inflam-matory and confrontational. Sometimes these modern-day prophets use questionable data and much hyperbole to get across their points. I could admire their bravado, but I thought that, if they presented their points with calmness and serenity, then peo-ple would listen and would admit their racism. That is how I thought I would go about it. Sometimes this approach worked; more often it did not. I did not understand the power of denial, to use a psych.ological term, or the condition of blindness, to use a scriptural notion. You can say, "twenty million Hispanics," "eighty percent Hispanic," "one of the highest levels of poverty," "the highest dropout rate at school," and still get responses like "So what?" and "Prove it" and "Don't you think that it's their own personal fault they are the way they are?" Where racism is concerned, comprehension, understanding, reason, logic, facts, and all the other things that go into "knowing" can bring one only so far. Then you are going to Review for Religious have to say yes or no to that reality; you either embrace the truth or you walk away from it. I believe that the other approach, emotional and vitriolic, can at times be much more effective because it pulls us out of the ordinary rhythm of life and challenges us to affirm or deny our position with passion. Often it is in that passionate response that we come to know whether we are confronting truth or living a lie. It screams at us, and we cannot be deaf to it any longer. Living with Racism Once I owned up to the realization that it takes more than just awareness and acknowledgment of racism before some posi-tive response can take place, I was faced with a dilemma. What is an appropriate response to racism? If letting people know about racism, telling them facts or even leading them to some insight, is not enough, then what should I be doing? ' To do nothing is not an option. To be involved in educating people about the evil of racism is good, but it has not been very successful. So what is it that I can do? I have had to learn how to live with the reality of racism without allowing it to con-sume me or compromise me. Racism is both strong and insidious. If you are constantly fighting it, it will wear you down. If you never confront it, however, it will corrupt you and you will conform to it. I have had to learn how to live with it and still be sensitive to it. I have had to learn how to live within its grasp and still be able to name its evil. I have had to learn how to live with people who have no desire whatsoever for critical reflection on the subject and still not dis-count them as brothers and sisters. I also have had to learn that I could not fight racism alone and in isolation. I include in this understanding of aloneness or isolation the clique or inner circle that one forms when engaged in this kind of struggle. When you associate only with men and women of like mind and heart in regard to racism, you run the risk of having them become an extension of your own self. You then have two kinds of people, those who are enlightened by the truth and cleansed by the conversion experience (the inner circle) and What is an appropriate response to racism? To do nothing is not an option. September-October 1996 Barrdn * Racism an'd Religious Life those who are the great unwashed (the rest of humanity), who need to be purified before they can truly be a brother or a sister. And those of the inner circle know in their heart of hearts that hardly anyone from the great unwashed will ever make it to their level of purification and commitment. I believe that, in order to fight racism effectively, one needs to be allied with men and women who are at all stages of a~are-ness and commitment. There is no one of us who has always been right in each and every thought, word, deed, or omission. No one has a complete and correct theory of how life is to be lived. So we need to network with others who agree with us and with those who do not. We need to be in relationship with those who share our insights and with those who do not. We need to be a gen-uine brother or a sister to those who are racists and those who are not. Otherwise I do not see how we can bring about structural conversion. Some Strfita of Memory and Hope Looking at my parents today, I see an elderly couple who knew racism and its effects firsthand. They knew what it meant to live in segregated neighborhoods and in housing that was once chicken coops. My parents knew what it meant to be laid off work, to send their children to a broken-down building that served as the school for "Mexican" children, to be in the hospital without any insurance, to be excluded from stores and services, to be "Mexican" Catholics in a predominantly anglo community. I saw people come to our door and ask for advice or a helping hand or to have official letters read to them. We received many a Catholic missionary into our home, to eat with us and sometimes stay with us during the time they were evangelizing and catechizing. One day, as I shared this history with a group of people at a workshop, I found myself understanding the meaning of "being evangelized by the poor." My parents knew only one way to live in a racist society, and that was to love God with all they had and to love everyone else the best they could. Today I see a couple respected in their hometown and throughout the diocese for their perseverance, their faithfulness, their constancy in the faith and in the way they treat people. No matter how evil the structures were and how evil the people who strove to keep those structures in place may have been, my par- Review for Religious ents' faith has allowed them to overcome that evil. I do not see a bitter, broken-down couple blaming others for what they do not have, but a faith-filled couple continuing, by their example, to call others to a better way of life. Yes, society continues to be racist. The church continues to be racist. And, yes, there is racism even within my province. How should we respond, however, to our racism as a society, as a church and as a religious congregation, well, that is a conversation that we still need to have. Jesus Willing He could have multiplied currency as easy as loaves reasoned down other paths. he gave freely to everyone left the poor still poor rich with more than before. could have died another way unnoticed in desert sand lived as paralytic beggar with none coming to succor when angels stirred waters with a great serving spoon. for though he chose manger and tree, Peter and

Issue 50.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1991. ; Review Religious Volume 50 Number 5 September / October 1991 50 TM ANNIVERSARY VOLUME REVIEW FOR RI:.LIGIOUS (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. Telcphonc: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO and additional offices. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:\'~EW Foa R~:I,I(;IOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs; two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs¯ See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 REVIEW I.'Oa R~:t,tc, IOUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ° ST.LouIs, MO 63108 IIII III IIII II IIII III I PRISMS. What did you go out to the desert to see? A prophet? The question which Jesus asked his own people takes on a special poignancy for us toda~y in the Church. Our biblical tradition indicates that God raises up prophetic people in dark and difficult days. Because many see the time of renewal called for by Vatican II as a period of continuing strug-gle and tension--sometimes sadly with positions defended or fixed rather than with dialogue explored--affecting people and priests in parishes, bish-ops in national hierarchies, and religious in the same congregation, there is a greater tendency today to go running out, searching for a prophet. As usual there is also the temptation for some to play the prophet. But the prophetic tradition strongly emphasizes that tree prophets do not identify the role for themselves. God plucks people out of ordinary circum-stances, evokes some kind of personal conversion, and then speaks and works through them, even in their own reluctance for the role, and in their fear and trembling. Although we tend to apply the word prophet glibly to some modem-day leaders, educators, and writers, we perhaps are not far off the mark when we search for those movements and calls of God that come in incremental ways through ordinary-looking people and events. It is to acknowledge that prophets, like saints, have a range from "capital P" prophets (like our canonized "capital S" saints) with a major message of modeling and influence ~o the almost hidden (because of everydayness) small-letter prophets who in limited and confined ways raise questions, sug-gest new directions, make us uncomfortable, and at the same time give us hope. Prophets of lasting influence are s~arce at any time in our world's his-tory. Yet we may find it all too easy, even now, to mute the "smail p" prophet either ir~ our fixated search for major prophetic voices or in our disdain for less-than-radical calls. The even greater loss, however, happens when we may intentionally or unintentionally downplay our own lived (small p) prophetic witness to Christ's values--an integral part of our own chosen way of life. Review for Religious has been p~rivileged through the years to present voices of personal witness and articles of challenge and critique which repre-sent this common spectrum of our e ~eryday prophets. In this issue, "Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion" by Susan Rakoczy is a personal witness to 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 God's continuing call to go beyond a familiar homeland and to pay its enlivening costs---costs borne more within oneself than without. Jean Steffes considers directly in her article the theme of the prophetic-witness aspect of contemporary religious life. The articles by Giallanza, Levey, Arbuckle, and Mueller give further reflections on various aspects of religious life that affect its present and future witness. From the area of contemplation, the ground of all prophetic activity, Joseph Tetlow uses a very simple image from the changing seasons of the year to present an understanding of God's calls and our responses for a com-monplace continuity of spiritual growth. In a similar way Gerard Luttenberger sees through the contemplative Fourth Mansion of St. Ter6sa a way of praying apostolically. A prophetic relationship of faith with our United States culture grounds Hoffman's treatment of creative leisure and, in a very different fashion, Hinojosa's suggestions for formation, as he espe-cially has the Hispanic candidate in mind. Rywalt shares his experience of the sometimes dark journeying required of religious trying to follow God's lead in the transfer process in this consecrated lifeform. The prophetic and priestly people which we are will find fresh insight into the manna-food for our joumeying in Billy's "The Bread Kernel," clari-ty in Meyer's restating of the ministerial priesthood foundation through a deeper appreciation of an ambassador's role, and consolation in the gentle wisdom of living reflected in McDonald's "Faithful Servant." Perhaps, in our effort to identify prophets, McDonald's theme goes right to the heart of the matter. No truer discernment or greater tribute can be given to any prophet, spelled with large or small p, than to be identified, like Moses, as a faithful servant of God. David L. Fleming, S.J. Four Seasons of the Soul Joseph .4. Tetlow, SJ Father Tetlow wrote "The Mirror in the Field" for our November/December 1988 issue. His current address is Jesuit Hall; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. I~uring the experience of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, you have a sense of movement and of progress. Particularly during a nineteenth-annotation experience of them, you have the sense of getting along with things and of genuine growth in God. When you have finished the Exercises, if you are like many exercitants, you miss that sense of movement and progress. Even though you continue to pray as long and as seriously as you did during the Exercises, you may well come to wonder where "growth" has gone, and a sense of your life in Christ unfolding for you. You know how times of consolation and times of desola-tion mark spiritual growth or its absence, but this is the microeconomy of the spirit, a topological map of a mountain that does not tell you which range it is in or even which hemisphere. You might find some sense of getting along by applying the traditional phases or stages of spiritual growth. You would recognize, to start with, the stages of the purgative, illuminative, and unitive ways. You have heard of the Dark Nights, of the Senses and of the Soul. But reading these stages requires great expertness and an intense concentration on the interior life. You may find them of limited help in reading your growth in the Lord while you live an ordinary life in the world. Furthermore, these traditional stages of spiritual growth have focused tightly on the individual spirit. They do not comprehend a lot of the "your life world." They do not illuminate the interplay of others' needs and inter-ests with your own, or the tension between remaining faithful to your self and growing more faithful to those whom God gives you to love and be 643 644 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 loved by. Each of these traditional ways of gauging where you are in your interior life instructs you how to pray at a given time and what to pray about. They do not much tell you what to pray for. Now that you know the Spiritual Exercises, you might find it useful to think of phases or stages of the interior life in terms of the Four Weeks. You can take the Weeks as seasons distinct from one another. They really do match the phases or stages of growth that we go through as we live contem-platives in the active world. If you interpret your experience in these terms, you will not find a lot of instruction on what to pray about (that instruction will rise out of your current experience), but you will find sound instruction on what to pray for. The Seasons of the Four Weeks Think of the seasons not as four parts of one whole life, but as a cycle that we all go through in our life world. Consider life as a whole at this given moment, and picture how it is colored seasonally. The first season would be like this: You go along working hard and praying easily. You feel like springtime, and your whole self sprouts new life. Your life world seems filled with promise. Life is given to you, rising up from within your self and teeming all around you. In such a time, you are in the season of the Fourth Week. The truth is that Jesus came to "give you joy, and to the full," and he was transcendently powerful to achieve what he set out to achieve. As you know, we are created to live in consolation, which means that we share the sureness of the risen Christ that the reign of God comes, for each one of us and for all of humankind together. So we live in the joy of Christ, as we have a fight to do, and this is the Fourth Week. You enter Christ's joy, in work and in prayer. Ask yourself: During this springtime, what do you ask for? You go through times, as all of us do, of confusion and darkness, your inner world and life world matching. Your life world itself may be in tur-moil, and perhaps threatens your family, career, or health. All of us have experienced these times as wars succeed one another and one national crisis after another: toxic waste, the Savings and Loans debacle, the awesome national deficit. In a very real sense, when we suffer these times we are bear-ing the sins of all peoples--the sins of unjust rulers, of greedy people with economic power, of self-centered people who feed on us. In these times you feel powerless and perhaps even helpless. You live in depression or doubt or perhaps even jeopardy. In such a time you are walk-ing with Jesus Christ in his Passion. This is not merely metaphor: our Master warned us that we would feel persecuted and hunted, for if his life world Four Seasons of the Soul / 645 treated him as it did, then we are to anticipate faring no better. St. Paul said that we are to fill up the sufferings that Christ Jesus has still to undergo for the sake of his body, the Church. Sometimes we live in the Passion of Jesus, feeling the terrible weight of taking up our cross daily. In this wintry time of the Third Week, what grace gives you a sense of growth and movement? Again, at times you seem merely to be working along from day to day. You do not feel any great consolation or any notable desolation. You trust God by enacting your own desires and conscience and by doing the next good thing. You do not feel any great pressure to have life all figured out, or the vexing pressure of strong temptation to this or that sin you are prone to. You pray to the Father and listen to the Spirit. You live out your discipleship faithfully and enduringly. This is the Second Week, as you walk with Jesus of Nazareth, either in the long decades of his hidden life or in the brief exertions of his public life. It is full summertime, and you are growing in God. You take summertime concerns to prayer and stay with Jesus proclaiming his Good News. But summertime can seem lazy and unmoving. What grace will help you sense progress? Finally, there come times when you feel the weight of your own sin. You do again something that you thought you had truly put behind you. You fail to do something that you had set yourself most resolutely to do. You are in the First Week again. You find out that your ideal has little of the noble in it, or that your self-image includes falsehood, or that you have been acting as though you loathe your self and despise your life. Then you feel the deep burning of shame. Or you realize that you have been violating your own conscience, deliberately deceiving your own self and spreading your poison around you. Then you feel the icy sting of guilt. Yet all of this time you already know how God loves you, even how God keeps on being your Creator and Lord. This is the season of fall, when you join the cycle of life and death that belongs to this earth of ours. You flirt with spiritual death, but you know that you will not die, but live. You cannot doubt that God forgives again and again, and you take into your prayer that utter confidence in God's forgiving love. This is the season of the First Week. Once you have asked God's forgiveness, what else are we to ask for in order to have the experience of movement and growth? It is to find the answer to this question that you think in terms of the sea-sons of the Four Weeks. Other stages and phases instruct us in the kind of prayer we might give ourselves to. The "unitive way," for instance, suggests a prayer of deep quiet. Other stages help us hold onto the kind of faith and 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 hope we need to exercise. The Dark Night of the Senses helps us know that it is, indeed, faith we are exercising, and not doubt. Other stages or phases name kinds of temptation and grades of consolation and desolation. A pray-ing person who has been drawn to apophatic prayer will readily recognize daydreams of food as a desolation. But the stages and phases give little instruction on the very humble question of what, specifically, we are to ask for. Or perhaps more accurately, what instruction they do give is not readily accessible to the majority of praying Christians. "I Ask for What I Want" Matching the Four Weeks with the seasons of discipleship suggests immediately and accurately what you ought to ask God for. Each of the Weeks has a specific grace. These specific graces are precisely what we need in each of the four seasons of discipleship. When we feel the burning of shame or the icy sting of guilt, obviously, we ask forgiveness. Equally obviously, we receive this forgiveness even before we ask it. Then what? You would immediately reject dwelling on the shame or the guilt. You would repudiate self-lacerating examination. What you need is a sense of your complicity in humankind's sin, and a sense of how the disorder manifest in your life world lies waiting to manifest itself in yourself. You can ask for that plainly, and you will have a sense of getting on with God's project. You can also ask another gift of the First Week: the answer to the three questions in the colloquy of the first exercise. The deepest grace of the First Week is to be given eyes to see Jesus Christ. While you stand under the cross of Jesus Christ, you ask yourself, "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What might I do for Christ?" The growth and movement in answer to this prayer have to do with understanding the past and looking to the future. If you have been sinning, then start with how God succeeded in you, with what you have done for Christ. If you are acting sinfully, you need to attend to what else you are now doing: What are you doing for Christ? And as you repent yet again, you stand with Christ and ask what you might do for him and for his body the Church. This is the growth in the season of fall. A second season: of busyness. Your attention runs in a hundred direc-tions. You face concrete decisions hour by hour. You have to deal with oth-ers day after day. You have to remain authentic to your own self and grow more and more fully a member. Here, in this heated season of summer, you might ask most appropriately for the gift of the Second Week: to know Jesus Four Seasons of the Soul / 647 better, to love him more, and to go the way he goes. He has been through this summer and through the desert of busyness. For some the life of the Lord will be an inspiration (as Carl Gustav Jung said it ought to be). They will learn from Jesus of Nazareth how to relate in the dusty marketplace to the God who chooses to be father and mother to us. For others the life of the Lord will be an example for imitation (as the Church has taught since Jesus proclaimed himself Way, Truth, and Life). For all of us, growth in God means growth in loving Jesus of Nazareth who is the Christ. That is the grace you ask for in the summer, the Second Week. When winter comes upon your self and your life world, you cannot escape suffering. Well, in the Third Week, you have watched with Jesus through his Passion. Remember this accompaniment and what you asked for then. Perhaps you will ask to accept your suffering in compassion with Jesus suffering and to know shame "because the Lord is going to his suffering for my sins," while you have acted in complicity with all humankind in sinning. This is the grace of the first contemplation at midnight. In any pain or suffer-ing, growth will lie in and through compassion. You might be drawn, again, to ask that your own suffering somehow be "with Christ in sorrow, [your] anguish with Christ in anguish, [your] tears and deep grief because of the great affliction" Christ endured for you. This is a great gift, and those who embrace their own suffering in the world know what Jesus knew. This pain will end nothing, but will end; ifI can discern no movement toward life, I know my growth is where I am; God is faithful. This prayer to God transmutes a wintry time from merely a depression or recession or grave aggravation to a time of growth in Christ. Finally, when you live in happiness and your life world hums along in springtime, you can most reasonably beg God that you enter into the joy of Jesus Christ. There lies the way of movement and growth, first of all because you will not be immobilized by anxiety. We hold the happiness of earth tightly because it is given and taken away, apparently randomly. Unlike the joy of the earth, Jesus' joy is not given and taken away; it is given and to the full. Growth does not mean having things permanently or living secure or figuring everything out. All of these are illusory, and depending on any of them is writing on water. Growth for Christ's disciples entails precisely shaking off dependence on possessions and all defense against risks of personal encounter. You grow a more complete self with every deeper realization that God's is the initia-tive, the victory, which is Jesus' joy and glory. You grow more secure as you accept more and more fully that you did not earn life or joy and that, if you can make no demands, the One who gives constantly turns out more willing 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 to lavish gifts than you are to accept them. This is Jesus' joy and his glory. So in these springtimes we find our growth in begging "to be glad and rejoice intensely" not because of the great go6ds God is bestowing on us, but "because of the great joy and the glory of Christ our Lord." A Simple Matter of Moving Along Understand, the Four Weeks are not epigenetic stages that build one on another in succession, with the latest stage transmuting the earlier ones. This is the model used by Erik Erikson and the growth psychologists, and it is not appropriate here. The "seasons" mean something much simpler here. Nor does the word refer to an account of the adult life cycle, the "seasons. of a person's life" devised by Daniel Levinson and his colleagues. The "seasons" here are briefer and include not only internal dynamics but also the actuali-ties of your life world. As phases or stages, they would hardly be long-term and do not name permanent changes in the self. Think of it this way: Many skilled retreat directors begin an eight-day retreat by asking the retreatant what Week they are living. The retreat guide does not imply that the retreatant is going through a life cycle or.a phase with permanent effects--nothing so essential and long-range. The implica-tion is that we all go through certain seasoris and that we can usefully think of those seasons in terms of the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises. Many who have made the Spiritual Exercises yearn to keep the sense of progress and of forward motion that sustained them through the long days or months of prayer. They can help themselves do that by continuing one exer-cise that promoted that sense of progress during the Exercises: the preparato-ry prayer. Even those who turn to the Church's lectionary for the material of daily meditation or contemplation can ask for the special grace of the season they are in. They feel no unease or contradiction. On the contrary, they have a sense of familiarity and consonance, and a sense of getting on with life and with prayer. Few of us feel inclined to go back through the prayer texts and cycles of the Four Weeks, particularly over and over again. But you might find it useful to keep mindful of the special graces of the Weeks, and of the preparatory prayer. Re-creating Religious Life Joel Giallanza, C S. C Brother Joel recently completed his service in the ministry of provincial administra-tion and is currently Adjunct Retreat Director at Maryhill Renewal Center. His address is Maryhill Renewal Center; 600 Maryhill Road; Pineville, Louisiana 71360. /'~mong the principal tasks confronting religious life as the twenty-first cen-tury approaches is refoundation or, more descriptively, re-creation. While religious may not be completely comfortable with the demographics of increasing ages and decreasing numbers, they do not appear discouraged or despairing about the future: In fact, some communities have been reporting a modest and consistent increase in vocations and new apostolic ventures. Chapters, assemblies, and other gatherings of religious continue to search for the most effective means of responding to the needs of the Church and the culture in which they live. Among those means they assign high priority to ~'efounding or re-creating religious life itself. To that end, religious have explored the !ives and teachings of their founders and foundresses as well as the experiences and events which shaped the darly years of their communi-ties. The work now is to interpret those lives, teachings, experiences, and events for further practical application to contemporary religious life. The work now is to prepare for the future. Any creation, by its very nature, does not follow a predetermined blueprint. Nevertheless, there is one primordial model we can consider: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." These reflections will focus on the first three days of creation as a metaphor for the re-creation which religious need to undertake as they move toward and into the twenty-first century. In the Beginning During the first three days of creation, as Genesis relates the story, God 649 650 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 separates creation, giving each part a distinct identity. Only after this funda-mental work of separation and identification does God begin the cultivation of creation, filling it with a rich variety of living things, culminating in the appearance of humanity. Day 1 ~ Observation In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, covered in darkness; and the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters. God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day (Gn 1:1-5). It is intriguing that, after the heavens and the earth, light is God's first creation. Light enables us to observe and to distinguish; light enables us to see what needs to be done. God was present and active, though creation was covered in darkness. The creation of light makes observation and identifica-tion possible. Thus, light is distinguished from darkness; the former is iden-tified as day, the latter as night. Re-creating religious life involves observation. Religious must look courageously and see clearly the quality of every aspect of their lives and then distinguish between what will enhance that quality and what will not. To some degree this self-observation has been going on as religious respond-ed to the Church's call to read the signs of the times. However, with chang-ing demographics and subsequent adjustments to communal life and institutional commitments, religious need to refresh their response to this call and examine their lives yet more closely. In recent years apostolic religious life has known what it is to be "with-out form and void, covered in darkness." Some of this experience stems from the demographics and economics which have signaled the significant change--if not the death--of the religious life of twenty-five years ago. Some stems from the communal, ministerial, and structural implications of those demographics and economics. Some stems from modifications which religious themselves initiated through the process of'revising their constitu-tions and the traditional practices of their personal and communal lives. The ways in which religious live and minister and organize their congregations have changed and no doubt will continue to do so. Clearly, religious life has responsed to the Church and the cultures in which it witnesses. That religious life has undergone change is by itself no indication that nothing further need be done. Could the formlessness, emptiness, and dark- Re-creating Religious Life / 65'1 ness which religious sometimes feel about their way of life be the result of not observing areas needing yet further clarification and identification? These observations of mine focus on one area central to the lives of apostolic religious: celibate community. There is an asceticism inherent in any way of life in which two or more individuals have committed themselves to one another. Principally, that asceti-cism involves maintaining the common good over personal preferences. The acceptance of such an asceticism is essential to a healthy marriage and family life and to a healthy celibate community. Without that asceticism, the basic mutuality of the commitment begins to erode, and eventually the passion and dynamism within the relationships dissipate, then disappear altogether. If we observe the quality of our celibate community life over recent years, we have to ask whether there are times when consecrated commitment degenerates into corporate complacency. This is not to imply that religious have lost the ability to live community. Rather, it asks whether we have suf-ficiently explored other models of living a celibate communal lifestyle with-in the heritage and tradition of our congregations. Frequently in the past, community "happened" in a relatively large resi-dence associated with a congregational ministry. The daily schedules and general patterns of life within the community were much influenced by the needs of the ministry. Generally, those schedules and patterns reflected and were consistent with individuals' expectations. As ministry diversified (and individualized) during the last twenty-five years, expectations also diversi-fied. Common schedules and patterns became less possible and less realistic, given the broad spectrum of responsibilities and time commitments of local community members. Unless those expectations are observed, articulated, and modified as necessary, particularly in residences originally associated with a single ministry, those members unable to be present at certain times and events can be branded as having lost their sensitivity to or even their appreciation of the value of community. The ways in which expectations are lived are not solely internal; others observe how we live together, for better or for worse. Coworkers and other associates shape their perception and understanding of religious life by the pattern and quality of life they observe among us. Though we cannot live our lives in slavery to the multiple, diverse, and often inconsistent expecta-tions and assumptions with which others characterize us, we should not for-get that religious life is a form of witness to the Church and the culture. It bears a responsibility to be a living example of the Gospel and a working model of Jesus' mission. We need to observe our life as celibate community with a probing and 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 questioning eye. Are our communities prayerful, hospitable, and happy? Do we take individual and collective responsibility for the house in which we reside? In our communities, can we comfortably and frequently discuss the Gospel, faith, and religious life? Do we invite and welcomethose consider-ing religious life? Do we enjoy one another? Do we know one another? Do we live our life together with passion? Day 2 -- Separation God said, "Let there be a space between the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters." God made the space and separated the waters which were under the space from the waters which were above it. And it was so.And God,called the space Heaven. And there was evening and there was morning, a second day (Gn 1:6-8). With the dawn of the second day, God begins to put order into creation. Specifically, he makes some working room, so to speak, space in which to continue and complete the work of creation. If the first day emphasized observation and identification, then this second day emphasizes separation and distinction. Re-creating religious life involves separation. In recent years religious have spoken and written much about the need for continuing renewal. Chapters and other gatherings have focused extensively, and sometimes exclusively, on the renewal and refoundation necessary for religious life to be a continuing evangelical and apostolic force. Chapter documentation often remains disembodied as the demands of ministry and the routines of daily life reassert themselves after the chapter closes. Patterns of life change neither quickly nor easily. Regardless of how sublime and profound chapter proceedings may be, we will never effectively legislate renewal and refoun-dation. We must provide space for patterns of individual and communal life to be re-created. For celibate community, the observation and articulation of differing and conflicting expectations may suggest creating some new space. Can quality of life be sustained and intensified if those expectations are left to coexist without enough space for coordination? But, on the other hand, if coordina-tion becomes synonymous with the lowest common denominator, is the effort to provide such space worthwhile at all? Sometimes, no doubt, coordi-nation will bring about re-creation, but this does not seem to be the normal pattern; more often than not, re-creation by separation should be considered. Separation will involve establishing new local communities. Alternative housing could be provided for members who are committed to exploring and implementing a communal lifestyle that will meet their expectations and Re-creating Religious Life / 653 maintain a consistency and an integrity which reflect clearly their commit-ment as religious. The assumption here is that such alternative communities would be established with the highest common denominator as the standard. Prayer and relationships and the practice of the vows would be regularly reviewed to assure that standard. Separation is not schism, it is not a condemnation of other communal lifestyles within a congregation. Twenty-five years ago it was possible to find striking, and even exact, parallels throughout the local communities of a sin-gle congregation. Often those parallels were evident among many congrega-tions, also. Today, even between large local communities of the same congregation, we can find striking differences. Separation has to do with dis-tinction, not division. It seeks to express the rich diversity of ways in which a congregational heritage can be embodied among those committed to it. Major superiors have a significant role in this, a multifaceted role. First, they can take the initiative of identifying people and providing resources for new ventures even if the original initiativecame from community members themselves. The major superiors' involvement could signal the validity of the venture for those whose first reaction is critical. Second, major superiors can offer their support, encouragement, and assistance as new communities get underway. When some "red tape" needs cutting or some bureaucratic procedure needs streamlining, they are usually in a privileged position for expediting whatever needs to be done. Third, they can serve as initial observers and objective consultants for new local communities, Their role is not to mold groups into their own image and likeness, but to see that the members remain faithful to the principles and practices they have agreed upon for their life together. Finally, major superiors can be a buffer between nascent local communities and the established community. Not everyone in the latter group will agree with new ventures and the direction they repre-sent. Major superiors should avoid any defensive posture which would make the new communities look like aberrations in the eyes of the established community. They should focus their explanations about these ventures on their continuity with the congregational heritage. Separation is a means of re-creating celibate community; it is an invest-ment in the future. No doubt there are risks involved, but the prophetic nature of religious life has always placed religious in precarious situations. The risks are a challenge to acknowledge God's providential presence and activity. As religious we must reaffirm our faith in providence and move boldly into the future. Without faith, we undermine the very foundation of our religious life; without movement, we betray any assurance we profess to have about the future. 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 The future will come, but not in a vacuum. The choices we make now will determine the quality of that future. In making those choices, we need to create a fresh space, to provide a place for the future. Day 3 -- Cultivation God said, "Let the waters under the heavens be gathered into one place, and let the dry land appear." And it was so. God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered he called Seas. And God saw that it was good. God said, "Let the earth produce growing things, plants bearing seed, and fruit trees bearing fruit containing their seed, each according to its kind, upon the earth." And it was so. The earth produced vegetation, plants bearing seed according to their own kinds, and trees bearing fruit containing their seed, each according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, a third day (Gn 1:9-13). The third day brings cultivation to what has been created. With the emergence of land, "growing things" can appear; each of these growing things contains individuality and generativity. Life--and all of creation-- will continue; there will be another day. "And God saw that it was good." With this third day, God has completed the foundation for what will appear on the succeeding days of creation. And the foundation was good. Re-creating religious life involves cultivation. The future quality of celi-bate community will not appear by spontaneous generation, nor will it be manufactured according to elaborate specifications. It must be cultivated. Establishing new local communities does not signal the dawn of the seventh day; it is not the time to rest and lay aside further efforts. Quite the contrary, it is the time to move forward enthusiastically and confidently with every-thing that has been initiated thus far. This is the time for "growing things?' The root of the word cultivate is a term which can be translated "to move around" and "to dwell," depending upon the context. This dual ety-mology is quite appropriate for these present reflections. Cultivating celibate community requires some moving around. Community compromises vitality if it stops moving according to its own informed choices; that is, if it begins to operate on automatic pilot. Vitality springs from the continuing observa-tion and articulation of expectations. Patterns of personal and communal life must be mutually monitored with integrity and without fear of reprisal. Relationships must be nurtured naturally With quality time and refreshed regularly through reconciliation. Cultivation assumes that expectations and patterns and relationships will evolve. Cultivation flourishes in an environ-ment of exchange, interest, care, and concern. Cultivation moves around Re-creating Religious Life / 655 within and among community members to prevent that stagnation which taxes commitment and tempts to convenience. Cultivating celibate community requires some dwelling. Cohabitation is not celibate community; it merely means that two or more people inhabit the same residential space and need not involve any interpersonal commitment. Dwelling goes beyond living together to include entrusting our lives to one another. If we do not have mutual trust with those with whom we live, then what grounds do we have for claiming we entrust our lives to the Lord? It is a basic tenet of faith that the quality of our relationships with one another verifies or falsifies the quality of our relationship with the Lord. Truly dwelling with one another, recognizing that our life together makes a home of the house, is a certification of our love relationship with one another and with the Lord, and a witness of integrity to others. There is no flawless formula for assuring cultivation; it involves all the effort, discipline, and asceticism requisite for any healthy relationship. There are, however, some principles which can support that effort, discipline, and asceticism. First, clarity of vision: Members must have a sense of the direction in which they hope the community to move. More than an in-house conve-nience, that vision is part of the apostolic character of celibate community. Second, communication of values: A common vision is built upon shared values. Without this sharing, there is little common ground to cultivate; com-munity quickly becomes an arid land. Third, cooperation for vitality: This is a discipline and an asceticism which positions the common good as the high-est priority. The vitality of vision and values can be cultivated only coopera-tively; it cannot be assumed. Fourth, concern for vocation: This is the foundational principle. Vision and values have no vital and substantive pur-pose and meaning unless community members share a sincere concern for the integrity of their commitment to the vocation of religious life. In practice, these principles are skrategies which must characterize the re-creation of celibate community. Cultivation is a daily enterprise which will mark the presence and activity of community members with one anoth-er. Thus, cultivation never comes to a point of sufficiency, beyond which no further efforts are necessary. There will always be both peaks and plateaus in the quality of life within any community. The principles of clarity, communi-cation, cooperation, and concern are reminders that neither the peaks nor the plateaus are places of permanence. We must cultivate celibate community if it is to have a prophetic place in the future and even if it is to have a future at all. We must cultivate it since the culture will not support it. We live in a culture whose materialistic, indi- 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 vidualistic, and sensualistic preferences and practices have compromised its capability for fostering the personal commitment which lies at the heart of both celibacy and community. The decline of marriage and the family is but one testimony to that compromise. Celibate community can stand as a prophetic sign that such a commitment is humanly possible. For the future, that sign may be the small seed which is cultivated into the means of trans-formation for the entire culture. In the Days to Come "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." As the story is presented, nothing existed before God began his creative work. Everything could be made as an original, without the pressing and pressuring influence of a long-standing tradition. God could, so to speak, work from scratch. Re-creating religious life, and celibate 'community in particular, cannot assume the absence of any influence. There are values and traditions and practices by which communal religious life has endured and prospe,red over the cen-turies. The observation, separation, and cultivation which will position reli-gious life for re-creation cannot dismiss that influence as unnecessary, nor distance it as untouchable. The influence of those realities which have shaped religious life can be incorporated and assimilated into the re-creation; thus will be their creative transformation. Admittedly, some refinement may be necessary to preserve the spirit of those values, traditions, and practices. Nevertheless, such refinement is not a ruling of inadequacy, but a rendering unto new life. In the days to come we must observe closely the ways and means of our religious life together. We need to articulate clearly and forcefully the values by which we will actually live.Prophetic statements from individuals or chapters or other gatherings that remain forever disembodied phrases will never be true characterizations of religious life. Indeed, they can become pharisaical, lofty ideals without living intent. Observation, as I have used the term, has more to do with enacting motivation than with simply gathering information. In the days to come we must separate ourselves from whatever patterns of life have compromised or constricted our desire and ability to live our religious commitment with intensity and integrity. We must re-create the spirit of being called, of being set apart for the Gospel. Without that spirit, the prophetic prowess of religious life is neither affectively experienced nor effectively expressed. Within that spirit, religious life claims the power and proclamation which are the inheritance of Gospel witnesses. In the days to come we must cultivate our life together. We need to re- Re-creat.ing Religious Life / 657 create the commitment we have made to God and to one another. We have at our disposal a power for and a promise of common life that can bring hope to a world broken by betrayal, gouged by greed, and disheartened by deceit. The passion with which we live our celibacy, poverty, and obedience will counteract the standards set by that betrayal, greed, and deceit. The convic-tion with which we re-create and realize our communal life will cultivate and confirm the presence and activity of the kingdom within and around us. "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." This is an old story, but one that may be enacted once again as religious life approaches the twenty-first century. Observation, separation, and cultivation are strategies which can support the work of re-creation; and yet we should never displace the fundamental truth that this is God's work, all is grace. The alliance between those strategies and that grace will enable us to speak of religious life and of celibate community with the same bold confidence which marked Yahweh's promise for the temple. "The Lord Almighty speaks: 'Is there any-one among you who can still remember how splendid the temple used to be? How does it look to you now? It must seem like nothing at all. But now do not be discouraged, any of you. Do the work that is needed, for I am with you, so do not be afraid . In the_days to come the new temple will be more splendid than the old one, and there I will give you prosperity and peace' " (Hg 2:3-4, 9). To the Bird of My Prayer Songster, your hymn of praise Never ceases in a melody all your own; Chanting a song--pleading, thanking-- With the sheer joy of having voice to sing. From highest pole to roof, you find your perch, No earth-bound bush can stifle flight to God. Anna Louise Staub, S.S.J. 217 W. Commercial St. East Rochester, NY 14445 Prophetic Witness in Contemporary Religious Life Jean Steffes, CSA: Sister Jean Steffes has been general superior for the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Agnes. Her address is: 427 Gillett Street; Fond du Lac, Wisconsin 54935-4598. The notion of being prophetic in today's society can conjure up many images in us, depending upon our perspective. For some of us being prophetic might seem a quality to be admired in Dorothy Day, Archbishop Romero, the martyred Jesuits of El Salvador, and the Agnesians Maureen and Teresa of Nicaragua, but one to which we could never aspire. It wo~ld mean speaking, acting, or giving witness in larger-than-life situations that may never be the platform for most of us. Another perspective might give rise to images of angry demonstrations directed at society and culture or at our Church. The call for greater inclusion of women in roles in Church and society, for the right to life of the unborn, the unwanted, and the elderly, and for the preservation of our environment can result in tactics that seem or are angry. For those who shrink from such approaches, even the very valid and necessary content can be lost. A third image of the prophet (which we may enjoy) is of one who foretells the future. In our society there are those who use past patterns to predict our economy's collapse or other dire conse-quences. For those of us who live a Gospel faith, such prophets do not give the hope so necessary to engage in present realities and so make the world a better place here and now. The images I have shared are overdrawn stereotypes, but they show the difficulty in speaking on the topic of prophetic wit]aess. In this reflection I will explore three broad areas: (1) What does it mean to be prophetic? (2) prophetic witness and the current experience of religious life: (3) an agenda for the future. 658 Prophetic Witness / 659 What Does It Mean to be Prophetic? Walter Brueggemann says in The Prophetic Imagination, "The time may be ripe in the church for a serious consideration of prophecy as a crucial ele-ment in ministry."~ Prophets understood how change is effected. They knew the power of language, how to "evoke newness, 'fresh from the word.' ,,2 Let us develop at some length Brueggemann's ideas of prophecy. He states, "The task of prophetic ministry is to nurture, nourish, and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the domi-nant culture around us . ,,3 I believe his approach can help us understand prophetic witness as it applies to the goals and meaning of religious life. Beginning with the story of Moses, we can learn what it means to form an alternative community. The story of the Exodus shows us how Moses and the Israelite people were brought out from their domination by an imperial religion and the politics of oppression and exploitation. The religion and pol-itics of Pharaoh worked hand in hand to keep him in power and control. Through the interaction of Moses and Aaron with Pharaoh and his regime, the Israelites began to see the difference between the freedom of God and the lack of freedom of the Egyptian gods. Belief in the Egyptian gods served to maintain a social order that allowed for oppression and exploitation. The God revealed to the Israelites is tied to no social order. God is a God of free-dom who calls for an alternative community built on the politics of justice and compassion. The alternative consciousness that Moses fostered in the Israelites was both critical and energizing. His critique, validated when the Egyptians were struck by plagues which their gods were powerless to counter, showed up false claims to power and authority which could not keep promises in the face of the free God. Prophetic criticism has an element of grieving in it as the prophet mourns the oppressions encountered. The Israelites were afflict-ed, oppressed, and ground down by the dominant Egyptian culture, and so they risked the freedom of the free God against the regime. The energizing happened not through what the Israelites already possessed but through what was promised. God went before them in pillars of fire and cloud and trans-figured this fear into energy. The people were energized to follow the free God to establish an alternative community built on justice and compassion. Though the Israelites left Egypt to live more freely, they, too, eventually developed a dominant culture. It was characterized by the reign of Solomon, whose whole achievement appears to have had the self-serving purpose of securing the place of the king and king's dynasty. Solomon did not welcome the ideas of a free God and an alternative community any more than did Pharaoh, for they threatened the established order. There were three bases 660 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 for Solomon's rule that generally mark any dominant culture. First, there was incredible well-being and affluence, though it was not equitably shared. Some went without enough so that others might have too much. Second, an oppressive social policy sustained the standard of living. There was a system of forced labor in which laborers met the needs of the state although unable to meet their own needs. The politics of justice and compassion disappeared, and the order of the state became the overriding agenda. Third, there was the establishment of a controlled and static religion. God and God's temple became part of the royal landscape. How could God, seen as living in a house provided by the king, say anything critical or abrasive? Solomon was countering the counterculture of Moses: the economics of equality was countered with the economics of affluence, the politics of justice with the politics of oppression, and the religion of God's freedom with the religion of God's accessibility. The dominant culture of Solomon managed to brush aside Moses' vision. The gift of freedom was taken over by the yearning for order, and the human agenda of justice was used for security. Against reali-ties like these, people are called to utter prophetic words. Moses both criticized and energized. Like him, Jeremiah is shown as proclaiming the critique while Second Isaiah offers the energy for the new vision. The prophets offer symbols that contradict a situation of hopelessness and give public expression to long-unspoken fears and hopes. They show us that the dominant culture leads people to despair of new life. They present an alternative consciousness, grounded in the unwavering faithfulness of God, that can energize the community to new forms of faithfulness and vital-ity. Jesus, too, is shown as a prophet who criticized the dominant culture of his day. "Jesus is remembered and presented by the early Church as the faithful embodiment of an alternative consciousness.''4 Jesus' ministry and death oppose the politics of oppression with the politics of justice and com-passion. The counterpart to the crucifixion is the birth of a new reality that finds full expression in the resurrection. What does this very challenging reflection on prophets and prophetic consciousness have to say to us in religious life? What is apostolic religious life's prophetic role in church and society today? It is important to reflect on this, recognizing that we have generous portions of both dominant culture and alternative consciousness within us. We recognize our conflicted nature, yet we aspire to a prophetic role in church and society. We must ask, then, whether apostolic women religious have been co-opted by our dominant consumer culture or whether we manifest an alterna-tive consciousness based on the freedom of a free God. Do we show a belief in community and interdependence as inherent in our way of life, or are we Prophetic Witness / 66'1 fragmented and self-centered? Are we motivated by a desire for justice and compassion, or do we prefer stability even at the price of the exploitation and oppression of "invisible" others? The questions are hard but necessary as we examine the religious way of life for evidence of prophetic witness. Prophetic Witness and the Current Experience of Religious Life Our challenge as women religious is to position ourselves to recognize the revelation of the future. One current writer, Mary Jo Leddy, N.D.S., speaks of the need to develop a postliberal model of religious life. Her thesis is that the basis for our contemporary religious life in North America is a declining culture that depends on the liberal thought fed by industrial capi-talism. While liberalism has made many contributions to modern society, it cannot deal with the reality of limits. If there can be no limits, ultimately there can be no meaning or values. Liberals tend to see themselves as contemporary or progressive and in conflict with the conservative or traditionalist ideas of Church and religious life. In Leddy's view, the more serious obstacle to the transformation and renewal of religious life results from the tension between the liberal and the prophetic approaches. The prophetic leads us to a more radical response in spirituality, mission, ministry, and community. The prophetic is risky, for it calls us to response to an unknown future rather than reaction to a no-longer-valid past. Leddy says, "We who live in a disintegrating empire today are summoned at prophetic moments to criticize the patterns of decline within our culture and within ourselves, to contemplate the holiness of God in the midst of these dark times, and to evoke the creative desire in one another for a meaningful alternative for the future.''5 These words are very similar to those Brueggemann uses to describe the prophetic imagination. The prophetic intersects with our apostolic religious life. Contemporary writers call religious to the same challenge the prophets faced in biblical times. Religious congregatiohs represent an alternative to the values of the dominant culture but do not stand apart from the people. Rather, apostolic religious recognize clearly the need for reflection, discernment, and a ground-ing in the holy as they criticize, yet energize, themselves and their peers to bring the values of the Gospel into contemporary society and culture. We have reflected on what it means to be a prophet. We have also recog-nized the challenge it presents to apostolic religious. Let us now look at cur-rent beliefs and responses regarding apostolic religious life in light of prophetic witness. I will consider mission direction, the meaning of member-ship, and some current realities. These areas provide us with the material to critique and energize our own prophetic potential. 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 Mission Direction Although expressed differently in each congregation, mission direction today involves in some way a commitment to transformation of the world, the Church, and ourselves through promoting systemic change for the quali-ty of life; justice for the economically poor; furtherance of the role of women in church and society; and mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration in all relationships. Such mission direction clearly reminds us of our partici-pation in the mission of Jesus. When we call ourselves to systemic change for the quality of life, what do we mean? We are asking for two things, systemic change and quality of life. When we say the system is not working well, how do we want to change it so it will work better? For whom do we want it to work better? If we take a global view, we see that entirely too much of the world's popula-tion is forced to live at a level that does not meet its basic needs of food, shelter, health care, and education while a minority has more than its share. We see that, in order to feed the wants and needs of a market economy, rain forests are irrevocably destroyed, topsoil is depleted, deserts are expanded mercilessly, and the world's fresh-water supply is tainted and diminished. On local and national levels we 'must ask ourselves how the needs of the poor are being met. After all, Jesus was clear in showing us that whatever we do to the least of his people we are doing to him. The poor are receiving poorer education, less nourishing food, substandard or no housing, and inad-equate health care in this country so rich in resources and technology. We must use our ingenuity, gifts, and talents to change a system that has canonized greed and competition in order to satisfy wants. How can we in our own daily living point the way to change that would benefit those with least access to the system without denying the legitimate gains and goods of our society and culture? Such responses as simplifying our lifestyle by avoiding use of Styrofoam, recycling our disposables, and making thought-ful choices regarding food and other consumer goods can raise our con-sciousness and lead us to getting others involved and to networking with those already involved. Indeed, most changes begin as ordinary people change their thinking and the patterns that go with their thinking. We must know our values so that they, rather than the manipulative marketing of an over- consumptive dominant culture, will shape our choices and responses. We claim that we want justice for the economically poor. This value links with the goal of systemic change for the quality of life. Jesus' life and ministry showed us his love of preference for the poor. This is not to say that Jesus does not love all, but that his ministry was not directed in the main to those who were the power brokers of his day. These, of course, he invited to Prophetic Witness / 663 join him in loving God and neighbor, but the cost was generosity, sharing their possessions. Jesus was good news for the poor. Are we who are called to continue Jesus' mission also good news for the poor? Whether in direct service So the poor or in ministry with middle- and upper-middle-class peo-ple, are we focused on a more just distribution of and access to necessary goods and resources? Do we in our teaching and in our healing, pastoral, and social works always have in mind those who are less fortunate than we are? Are we willing ~o call others to this consciousness even when we see and know that the poor are not to be idealized? They, like us, have faults and failings and may not reflect Christ as we might want them to. A reverence for the poor calls us to a view of Christ very different from that of popular piety. While comforting, it is challenging; while open and inviting, it is demanding; and while satisfying, it never ceases to call out for more--more love, more generosity, more hospitality. Not all of us are called to direct ser-vice with the poor, but all of us are called to seek justice for the poor. In this quest we continually recognize that we, too, are among the needy and are enriched by those we serve. Another commitment common to religious is to the furtherance of the role of women in church and society. Worldwide, the conditions of women vary from those in countries where women have legal equality to those where brides are still considered property. Women the world over have the primary responsibility to feed and care for the children even though means and resources are not equitably at their disposal. In the United States a vio-lent crime is committed against a woman every three minutes, and a woman is raped every six minutes. Households headed by women are increasing while the rate of their income is dropping. Children are our most precious resource, but those who care for them are denied the necessary means. Our Church struggles with the role women are to play in its pastoral, liturgical, and philosophical reflections.In the U.S. the most recent draft document on women's role in the Church and society calls for equality for women in theory but holds back in p.ractice. As John XXIII said in Pacem in Terris in 1963, "Since women are becoming ever more conscious of their human dignity, they will not tolerate being treated as inanimate objects or mere instruments, but claim, both in domestic and in public life, the rights and duties that befit a human person.''6 The women's issue is more than an issue, it is a perspective that demands attention and response. Once unleashed, the forces of confusion and dissension drive towards resolution. In our lives we will use inclusive language, advocate for women, and net-work to help make society a friendlier place for women to develop and share their gifts and talents. Despite such a commitment on the part of congrega- 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 tions, there is dissension among women religious in language usage and other matters. Our heads and hearts find themselves in conflict here, leading to results that could be less than satisfying. Can we avoid being our own worst enemy in the search for inclusivity? Let us not deny the richness of our past, the demands of the present, or the call of the future as we work for justice and right for women in contemporary society and church. Another area of commitment of apostolic religious today has to do with mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration in all our relationships. The values implied here are very positive, and yet to achieve them one must give in order to receive. The mystery of sacrifice is contained in these words in a way that is not apparent at first glance. For mutuality to occur, I must not only believe in myself, I must also learn to believe and trust in the other. With whom do we allow ourselves to be mutual? Do we let power, position, language, style of dress, or education prevent us from speaking our truth or hearing that of others? In terms of inclusivity, do we go to the extremes either of having no boundaries or expectations or of expecting everyone to fulfill every role or function in an organization? Inclusivity involves includ-ing others in the concerns affecting their own lives. Not all will do every-thing, but there must be input from those affected. In terms of discernment, though all are included, not all perspectives can be responded to or chosen. We often try to make inclusivity mean pleasing everyone all of the time even though this may be impossible. Finally, let us look at c.ollaboration. If we pull the word apart, we can see the meaning as co-labor or working with. At one time we may have considered ourselves collaborative if we hired lay teachers and nurses and more so if we hired lay administrators. Collaboration at its most radical, however, calls us not just to bring others into our projects and have them do things our way, but to work with others and to respond to the signs and needs of the times together. Unhe.althy com-petition or too rigid control in ministry or community strikes at the heart of the love which binds us together so that the 'risen Christ may be discovered among us and in our world. The Meaning of Membership The consideration of mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration leads us into the meaning of membership. Community life is a topic, issue, and reali-ty that continues to generate much attention. As apostolic religious we have such different experiences, expectations, and definitions regarding commu-nity life and the meaning of local community. Sometimes when the phrase "local community" is used, the assumptions and expectations already in place cause us to "shut down," to become unable to continue a dialogu~ Prophetic Witness because we are really unable to h~ar one another. (I personally have felt anger, despair, defensiveness, longing, fear--and also hope--around this topic.) What has led religious women to this state and what can we do to move beyond shutdown and breakdown to a breakthrough? It is clear that, in this matter, apostolic women religious are striving, striving to understand meaningful bonding and to express it through authentic participation in community. Someone recently said that we may have so emphasized mission and ministry in the years of renewal following Vatican II that c6mmunity has become the shadow side of our way of life. If that is the case, the difficulties surrounding our efforts to deal with community life are deep and profound. We must face and deal with this central area of our way of life so that we are nok torn apart by unclear expectations and assumptions. I offer three perspectives for consideration in the area of community: human-growth issues, the importance of faith community and faith sharing, and l~ousin~ in community. We sometimes get bogged down by human-growth issues in our lives with one another on the local or on the broader community level even though our lived experience points to the need for human growth and development among ourselveg. Each of us knows how difficult it is to change herself and how truly futile it is to expect to change another. Each of us must deal with herself and her own issues in as healthy a fashion as 16ossible. Only when my behaviors and patterng are healthy may I be able to imiarove the dynamics between myself and those with whom I interact on a r~gular basis. The challenge here is to deal with my own behav-iors, realizing that I have no real or lasting power over the behaviors another may choose. My role is to try not to feed into unhealthy behaviors that may be pre.sent around me. Although unatteiaded human-growth issues can wreak havoc on healthy relating within community, still apostolic religious must recognize that we will never overcome all of these problems either individually or corpbrately. Gra~e biailds on nature; it will not replace or deny our humanness. We must realize how eadh sister's desire and motivation influence her choices regard-ing her behavior and interaction. We cannot choose for each other, only for ourselves. Each ~'eligious needs to be challenged to a self-knowledge and self-awareness leading to growth. Practices such as spiritual direction, the annual retreat, and the daily consciousness examen can keep us grounded in reality yet open to ongoing conversion. We must deal with human-growth-and-development issues, but not remain there. We must be committed to the making of or participating in faith community as a means of nurturing shared life, shared love, and shared vision. We must find ways to relate regularly and meaningfully with our sis- 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 ters in community in order to reflect on, renew, and recommit ourselves to the mission, charism, and spirit of our congregation in our daily lives. Depending upon our miriistry and the proximity of other congregational members, how we do this will differ; that we must do it if membership is to mean more than an annual touchdown or the reading of congregational mate-rials is the reality we face. Some Current Realities I. recogniz9 that each congregational member will have other communi-ties thai will lay claim to her time, energy, and affection. That is good and healthy. My point is that we must have quality time for our own congrega-tion as well, as part of the ordering rhythm of our lives. Sometimes one's commitment to ministry or to parish can become so all-encompassing that ther~ is. little or no time or energy left for her to express her membership in her religious congregation. For me, the making of faith community involves reverence for one another, presence to one another for celebration as well ag dialogue and reflection, honesty so that we can affirm one another or call each other to growth, and a commitment to the goals and developing agenda of our congregation. This topic of makirig and participating in faith community leads to another important topic: the difference between housing and local communi-ty: We often equaie the two and this ~quation may not reflect that community life is broader than housing. The recent lived reality of women religious shows that faith community on the "local" level is not necessarily synony-mous with where a sister lives. In some locales th~ sisters have committed themselves to hei,ng a faith community without walls; regular meetings, cele-brations, and gatherings among them challenge and deepen their member-ship in the cbngi'egation, in other locales the sisters in a particular house function well as a faith community. We must recognize such differing com-munity realities and encourage them on the local level as well as on the con-gregational level. A commitment to community in our current society of intenge individualism and consumer gratification keeps us involved in a prophetic role. An Agenda for the Future The prophetic nature of this life to which we are called leads us to cob-sider an agenda for~the future. Any living organization must be open to change or it will die. In a sense change is an ordered type of death, not death as final but rather death leading to new life. One of the greatest strengths of apostolic women religious is the serise that the agenda or common goals Prophetic Witness / 667 belong to all of us. This strength we will build on as we look at change and new life for us religious. Central to understanding ourselves as women religious is understanding our spirituality. I believe that the biggest challenge for each of us with regard to spirituality is to lead more integrated lives. Integration does not just hap-pen in a person's life. It must be worked at daily through a continuous blend of action and reflection leading to further action. Somehow the aspects of one's life must be part of a whole rather than segments that do not overlap. In an integrated life my religious commitment is not separate from who I am when I am at leisure. My response in mission and ministry is not limited to my paid professional work but may overlap into volunteer involvements in food pantries, visiting the sick or elderly, letter writing, and other activities. Community life is not an end in itself in an apostolic religious institute, nor is it merely a refuge that ought to be there when I want and need it. Community is a place or space where I share faith and vision, humanness, and the quest for the divine. My ministry is not all-consuming; I do allow myself necessary time for recreation and reflection. And my prayer life is more than specified exercises or spiritual reading. All these somehow fit together and reflect my spirituality, my integration of life. An integrated life has powerful witness value in a society that wants everything and does not want to be reminded of the need for balance. Integration is not synonymous with transformation, but it can surely open us to being transforming elements in the institutions and structures of society and culture. In our desire to be prophetic witnesses, we commit our-selves to transformation of the Church, the world, and ourselves~ I recently read that one way of understanding transformation is to look at the life cycle of the butterfly. First there is a caterpillar; next there is the chrysalis stage, in which the organic matter is quite shapeless and formless; finally, there is the butterfly. Transformation is what happens in the chrysalis stage. The process is not very appealing; it suggests a profound letting go as well as an openness to a different future. While transformation has global ramifications, it will not begin at the global level but rather at the local level, where we can encourage one anoth-er to let go of attitudes or practices that may have been more helpful to a known and comfortable past than to the needs of the present or the concerns of the future. The desire for transformation of the world, the Church and our-selves flows directly from our relationship to God, self, others, and creation. It is expressed in a commitment to justice, peace, and the integrity of cre-ation. Transformation is not something anyone can directly make happen by willing it. No one person caused the recent freedom movement in Eastern 668 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 Europe, nor can one individual move our economy from a military focus to a domestic and global focus responding to human and planetary needs in a humane fashion. Likewise, no ond person's recycling of materials will reverse our problem with excessive waste. Yet all of these and many other alternative responses can indeed lead to transformation. When such respons-es begin, networking or replicating starts to happen and systems begin to change. At the May 1990 meeting of the council of the International Union of Superiors General (UISG) in Rome, the following global challenges to evan-gelization were identified: the widening gap between the rich and poor; indi-vidualism characterized by greed, violence, terrorism, abandonment, indifference, and irresponsibility; loss of human dignity through political oppression, social discrimination, and economic injustice; the breakdown of family life; the destruction of the environment; inability to trust the human community, coupled with a preoccupation with survival. These challenges help us to formulate an agenda for transformation that is larger than ourselves, and they clearly link with the transformative ele-ments for religious life in the future developed by the major superiors of U.S. women's and men's communities (LCWR/CMSM) in August 1989: prophetic witness; contemplative attitude toward life; poor and marginalized persons as the focus for ministry; spirituality of wholeness and global inter-connectedness; charism and mission as sources of identity; change of the locus of power; living with less; broad-based inclusive communities; under-standing ourselves as Church; and developing interdependence among peo-ple of diverse cultures. These challenges and transformative elements reflect in broad strokes the goals and concerns ofapostolic religious. Though the future depends in part upon us and our efforts, it depends even more on the grace of God our Creator, the inspiration of the Spirit, and our cooperation with each other as members of the body of Christ, joined in a common humanity and gifted with a common creation. Our communion with and in Christ calls all humanity "to reclaim relationships with family, clan, and tribe, to choose the common good, to seek solidarity with one another and with the earth.''7 For transformation to occur, we must believe and act in such a way that we give the message that life has meaning and that, assisted by God's grace, our responses make a difference. The prophetic imagination described by Brueggemann remains viable as we respond in our own times with an alter-native consciousness, as we critique our dominant culture and yet energize one another for a more just and compassionate future. Our faith gives us the vision and the mission, our hope gives us spirit and energy, and our love Prophetic Witness / 669 grounds us in the mysterious blend of transcendence and immanence that is life. I close this reflection on prophetic witness and apostolic religious life with Isaiah's words: "Remember not the events of the past, the things of long ago consider not; see, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (Is 43:18-19). NOTES I Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 9. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid, p. 13. 4 Ibid, p. 88. 5 Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990), p. 164. 6 John XXIII, Pacem In Terris, in Seven Great Encyclicals (Glen Rock, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1963), p. 297. 7 Helen Maher Garvey, B.V.M., excerpt from notes on the Meeting of the General Council, UISG, Rome, Italy, May 7-11, 1990, p. 2. Storms Tornado watch, the weatherman said, to last until ten o'clock. Four hours to wait for what may be or not. Storms of spirit come suddenly; swirl through the heart's towns and wash its skies to morning clean-- with no hours to wait for what so swiftly is. Sister Elizabeth deSales Dee, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 7300 Torresdale Avenue Philadelphia, Pa. 19136 Mission or Consecrated Religious Person: Which Comes First in Apostolic Institutes? Marie Therese Levey, R.S.~. Sister Marie Therese has taught school in country areas of Australia. Later she spe-cialized in teaching instrumental music: piano and violin. More recently she has done research in liturgical music and earned a Ph.D. Her address is St. Joseph's Convent; P.O. Box 472; North Sydney, N.S.W. 2059; Australia. In May/June 1988 this joumal published Sister Georgine Scarpino's article "The Unemployed Sister: Challenge and Opportunity." It defines the unem-ployed sister as a woman religious physically and emotionally capable of active ministry who, despite seeking work, currently has no formal position. It gives two causes for this modem phenomenon: the location of the work and the way ministry decisions are made. In summary, Sister Georgine points out the need for congregations of women religious to develop programs within religious institutes to address both employment and unemployment. Surprisingly, no published response has followed her article until now. Since women religious have sacrificed potential material wealth, marriage, and motherhood in order to serve the Church in institutes devoted to apos-tolic works, it seems unjtist that the situations described occur. However, occur they do, and the first step toward rectifying the problems is to admit them. One then asks why they exist and seeks an appropriate cure. Sister Georgine presents causes of these problems in the United States. Although here in Australia there are general parallels to what she describes, yet the causes and thus the cures seem somewhat different here. The present writer has, in religious life, personally experienced "job search" and the special type of demoralization which occurs in close-knit communities when one is the "odd man out." I thus feel equipped to write on this subject. Regardless of the differences between countries in reasons for the phe-nomenon of the unemployed sister, I believe that the two elements most 670 Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 671 needed in addressing the problem of appropriate placement in apostolic works of religious personnel in institutes of consecrated life are: (l) a correct balance in religious leaders between their attitudes towards responsibility for the institute's authentic mission and their attitudes towards the rights of the individual members; (2) adequate use of written media, particularly those which are internal to the religious institutes and which include forums for peer review and the opportunity for subjects to respectfully challenge those directives or oversights of superiors which seem to threaten the authentic mission of the institute or the rights of its members. Mission and Person The religious state belongs to the life and holiness of the Church (canon 574), and the primary mission of the Church is the care of souls. Ecclesiastical law insists that apostolic action for institutes of consecrated life should confirm and foster union with God (c. 675, §2). The Church has Msb a social mission, namely, to support and protect people's material well-being and to inspire and promote true civilization through Christian philoso-phy. 1 In the social category of mission can be placed the apostolic pati'imony of many institutes, and the Church insists that such patrimony, or intentions of the founder, should be.preserved by the institute (c. 578). Thus, leaders of institutes of consecrated life f6unded for apostolic works, in order to justify their ongoing existence and their acceptance of candidates, need to ensure that both the corporate entity and the individual members have a correct con-cept of this patrimony as well as machinery to implement it. Bearing in mind that the Church places the person at the center of the social order, religious leaders have a r~sponsibility to see that members of the institute are placed in apostolic works which are appropriate to the tal-ents and needs of each (see Perfectae Caritatis 18). The pastoral commit-ment of a leader in an apostolic institute does not remove--but, rather, ¯ increases--her obligation towards seeing to appropriate placement of per-sonnel. Although religious leaders nowadays delegate administrators for works for which members of their institute are the trustees, a large part of the responsibility of preventing serious damage to the person through long-term lack of appropriate apostolic work must lie, by the nature of their role, with the religious leaders. Moreover, the responsibilities leaders have to individtial persons within the institute vary according to how long and in what manner they have contributed to the institute (see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1989, p. 460). Since it is often claimed that consecrated religious are in short supply, the application of the above principles might seem straightforward. In reality 672 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 there are circumstances in the modem world in general, and here in Australia in particular, which cause it to be very difficult for congregational leaders. As in the United States, the location of the work in Australia affects the opportunity to do it, and the way ministry decisions are made in America has parallels h~re. Some details may clarify the differences between practices in the two countries. Conditions in Australia Prior to Vatican II, the missioning procedures in Australian apostolic religious congregations were relatively simple. Obedience, or the will of God, was equa~ed with doing what a superior told one to do and living where the superior told one to live. In larger Australian congregations, (over 1,000 members) often more than half were primary school teachers, and a large proportion of the remainder were either secondary teachers or nurses. Changes of residence for those "in the ranks" usually involved interchange between personnel engaged in similar works. This principle of interchange was fundamental to the smooth application of the third vow. When a difficult posting was required--for example, to isolated rural areas--younger reli-gious under perpetual vows were usually sent. Postings to apostolic works almost invariably came directly from a major superior, whether or not that superior's apostoli~c background was in the relevant work. Recruitment of staff for a school or a hospital by an administrator, or board, was foreign to most Australian apostolic religious congregations of women prior to about 1960, whether the mission was in the city or in the country. In the early 1960s a radical change occurred in the overall secondary education system in the most populous state of Australia, New South Wales. That change to what was called the Wyndham System, emphasizing science and the arts, was much more revolutionary in Catholic education for girls than it was either in state education or in Catholic education for boys. In the typical local Catholic school run by consecrated religioi~s women in Australia before that time, the girls remained in the same school, almost entirely staffed by r(ligious, from kindergarten through secondary school years. In state education and in Catholic education for boys, secondary schools were already separated at least from lower primary schools. Thus, state-school teachers and men religious in secondary education had been required to have university degrees before some larger institutes of w~men religious recognized such a need. When the more farsighted Catholic educa-tors pointed out that it would now be a problem to provide adequate sec-ondary education for the girls of less well-off families in local pa~:ish schools, some congregations saw in their higher grades a source of more Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 673 thoroughly trained religious personnel. That vain hope made difficulties in long-term planning for the transition from religious to lay staff. A further dramatic change in Australian education, which was to affect all ministries, occurred in the early 1970s. After a break of twenty years, the Australian Labor Party, headed by Prime Minister Gough Whitlam, was elected to govern the country. One of its earliest reforms was to make uni-versity education free. Although some criticized the extraordinary cost this was to the nation, the move brought the opportunity for tertiary education to the masses. Before that time, university education had been for the fortunate and the chosen. Now the initiative for tertiary education was up to the indi-vidual. The suc.c~'ss achieved by some "late starters," many in their forties and fifties, revealed how much talent had previously been unused. From about 1975, attitudes within religious congregations changed for both superi-ors and subjects. Superiors began to listen more attentively to those who did well in their tertiary studies, and subjects found their personal confidence and self-esteem strengthened by their academic achievement. With the advances made in the study of theology and the social sciences, it is now rarel~ pretended that apostolic religious life is simple, or that doing the will of God is always as clear-cut as that decided by another human being alone, whether or not that person h.appens to be a religious superior. Because of the broader scope of ministries open to women religious, modem specialization, and improved administrative techniques, the principle of interchange among personnel--which for many years had been integral to the practice of the third vow--is now becoming more and more difficult. In addition, although the median age of religious congregations is rising faster than that of the general population, many religious feel they have the right, and indeed the duty, to request proximity to aging parents. Religious congre-gations in serious decline have virtually no young sisters under perpetual vows who might be sent to isolated schools in rural areas. Since the majority of Australian sisters have reached the "winding down" stage of their lives, many now look to the cities from whence they originally came. In addition to these developments within the Church, the governments of Australia and New Zealand have acknowledged, in the form of funding, the benefits to the country as a whole of certain works of the private sector, including Catholic, and have thus made it necessary to rethink the ecclesias-tical structures for some ministries in which religious are involved. The equitable processing of government funding necessitated merging many local works, including parish schools within dioceses, into larger systems, most of whose personnel are now lay. These mergings required the develop-ment of policies acceptable to the relevant bishops, major religious superi- 674 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 ors, and state and union representatives for the management of the works, particularly those of healthcare and education. Making the policies work in practice required the establishment of sophisticated structures, which in turn required religious or lay personnel with the proper management skills. As a result, the power of the leaders of religious institutes with regard to the placement of personnel in traditional works in Australia and New Zealand has been lessened. Unlike lay staff, religious in Australia are not permitted employment status; this is not the case in New Zealand.2 Because of all of these circumstances, religious superiors have had to rethink how to preserve their true patrimony oi" authentic mission and what human cost would be involved. Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? The whole issue of the employment, or active involvement, of religious personnel leads to the question: Which is of greater importance to an insti-tute claiming to be dedicated to apostolic works, the works for which it was founded or the persons who will serve in those works? For leaders of insti-tutes whose acceptance of candidates demands that they offer them appropri-ate apostolic work, the answer is neither obvious nor simple. However, the Church has offered some very sound advice in the general area of human work. Of the documents which have come from the Vatican since the council, few could be more relevant to our times than the encyclical letter Laborem Exercens (LE) of the present pope. Pope John Paul II presents human work as "one of the characteristics that distinguish man from the rest of the crea-tures." It is "from work [that man's life] derives its specific dignity" (LE Introduction). Pope John Paul describes the "conflict between labor and cap-ital in the present phase of history" (LE 1 l f f). The Church, he points out, has always taught "the principle of labor over capital." Both are causes of pro-duction, but while capital is the mere "instrumental cause," labor is the "pri-mary efficient cause" (LE 12). In the labor-over-capital issue, Pope John Paul equates labor with per-sons and capital with the material returns from their labor. Consecrated reli-gious, even those who have employment, individually receive no capital }'or their labor. They have sacrificed this right for a stable form of living by which they can follow Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit (c. 573). In Australia and New Zealand, more than half of the person-nel in apostolic institutes made their commitment in the years when religious superiors had supreme control over placement into works, and they are now beyond the stage at which they might have arranged for alternative security Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 675 in old age upon seeing that the original system in which they sacrificed pos-sible wealth, marriage, and motherhood was beginning to break down. So the competent authorities obviously have a serious question of obligation towards them now. Many of the religious have perhaps forty years of life which they could still offer in apostolic works within the Church. Pope John Paul also writes concerning the roles of the "direct and indi-rect employer" (LE 17). By the "indirect employer" he refers to many differ-ent elements in society which make up the human environment of the worker. He says: "The role of the agents included under the title of indirect employer is to act against unemployment, which in all cases is an evil, and which, when it reaches a certain level, can become a real social disaster" (LE 18). These are strong words from the pen of the vicar of Christ. The principal agent in the concept of indirect employer for religious personnel would be the wider Church in that country. Should not, then, sections of the local Church accept part of the responsibility to address any problems of unem-ployment for religious? As well, the question should be raised within reli-gious institutes: Is it justifiable for religious superiors to accept candidates to poverty and obedience within a particular institute when those superiors do not have the power to place them in suitable work soon after profession? Perhaps declining numbers in a congregation increase the temptation for superiors to do so, and perhaps they excuse their actions with the reminder that all should "trust in God." I believe that succumbing to such a temptation would constitute power abuse of a particularly destructive kind. The abuse would surely be more damaging if others within the institute were already searching for similar employment, and were exposed to the same market forces. Power and Recruitment for Apostolic Works The power of recruitment brings us to the heart of the present discus-sion, namely, the opportunity for or deprivation of suitable apostolic work for religious personnel. It is neither possible nor desirable to completely sep-arate apostolic persons from the society in which they live. Professed mem-bers of Australian religious institutes are exposed to the forces which are part of the sophisticated living of the decade leading up to the twenty-first century. In this society ~nd age, control of recruitment for works represents power. For religious personnel, recruitment can be translated into mission-ing. Procedures for the missioning of religious should be such that they lead to the spiritual strengthening of the members and the corporate growth of the institute. The immediate practical problem to be faced by governing bodies of religious institutes is to develop policies for missioning procedures that 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 are within their power to implement, that support evangelization, that are just and equitable and adapted to the personhood of each sister, and that accord with both canon and civil law. Nowadays apostolic work for religious may be broadly placed into four categories: (1) viable institutions of which the con-gregation is the trustee, (2) charitable works of the congregation or of other ecclesiastical bodies, (3) viable institutions of other ecclesiastical bodies which pay stipends or salaries for the work of the sister, and (4) viable and nonviable works found in profane structures at the initiative of the religious. (1) Viable institutions owned by a religious institute are, in a distinctive manner, part of its patrimony. They are, as well, material assets of the insti-tute, which its leaders should, in. poverty, care for "with the diligence of a good householder" (canon 1284). Viable works of religious congregations are businesses, and for businesses to survive and attract personnel today, they must be competitive. Vatican II (Gaudium et Spes 64) teaches that eco-nomic development through technical progress "must be fostered, along with a spirit of initiative, an eagerness to create and expand enterprises," and that the purpose of productivity "must be th.e service of. the whole human per-son, viewed in terms of his or her material needs and the demands of his or her intellectual, moral, spiritual, and religious life." Pope John Paul points out that "capital cannot be separated fr6m labor" (LE 13) though, of course, in the case of religious persons, the capital is, through poverty, directed elsewhere than themselves. Religious persons, knowing that they are materially contributing towards the whole, find in the capital "confirma-tion and support" (LE 13) for the work done. Sound economics and evangel-ical poverty should go hand in hand. In order to maintain the correct balance between responsibility to the institute's mission and respect for the rights of the individual members of the institute, congregational leaders (trustees of the works) must regard the work and those involved in it as separate entities: the work itself is important regardless of who does it. Individual members must have the same percep-tion so that they may practice the spirit of poverty, or detachment. There should, accordingly, be protective structures for the ministry, including sometimes the combining of similar works under one administration so that they will continue even in cases of illness or of anyone's taking longservice leave. It is particularly important that this principle of continuation be respected when works require only one person in the local area, for example, instrumental music practices.3 Setting up protective structures for ministries in order to maintain the institute's patrimony will include policies for recruitment of staff. In those works in which a number of religious and lay people, are engaged, religious superiors have the direct power to influence Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 677 administrators in the recruitment of personnel. It stands to reason, then, that---other things, like professional qualifications, being equal--in recruit-ment for works of which the religious institute is the trustee, preference should be given to its own members. (2) The category of charitable works might include refuges for the needy which are supported by the congregation and by external donations. Without viable works there can be no charitable works. The Church's teaching on a "preferential option for the poor," by which the poor should have a preferen-tial claim on the Church's resources, cannot be initially applied without the resources. Once competent authorities decide that a charitable work is authentic to the charism of the institute, then the congregation should set up, as it should for its viable institutions, protective structures to preserve the work, whether or not there are religious personnel to staff it. Indeed, true missionaries strive to make themselves ultimately dispensable--teaching the disadvantaged how to be self-reliant and how to recover the dignity which is their right (see LE 9). Protective structures would include finance arrange-ments which can be monitored, and the work should be the source of support for the individual religious workers; that is, their salaries or stipends should be fed back into the general system. Again, for a religious institute's own charitable works, other things being equal, one would expect that members of the institute who are under civil retirement age should be considered first when positions are vacant. In Australia, women over sixty years of age (men over sixty-five) who have limited assets (a category which includes religious) are eligible to apply for the Social Security payments from the government. With the pres-ent societal structures, it seems that religious who receive Social Security should not deprive others (perhaps more deserving) of needed employment positions. In some dioceses it is established policy not to accept into stipend-ed positions religious women who are over sixty. If protective structures for an institute's works do not include allocationof salaries, or stipends which are independent of Social Security payments, then receipt of the latter would generate for the ministry an artificial security which could destabilize long-term plans for it. (3) In the third category above, which here in Australia refers principally to Catholic education, lie the greatest current problems of placement of reli-gious personnel. In most of Australia, the recruitment of staffs for nonpro-motional positions in Catholic schools is in the hands of local principals. This power evolved with the gradual acceptance of lay staffs into the parish schools previously staffed by religious. Perhaps to our discredit, it is only recently (since about 1975) that there has been widespread acceptance of lay 678 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 teachers into promotional positions. In general, the power of religious supe-riors to place personnel in diocesan works is limited to those positions which were previously held by other religious of their own congregations. Declining numbers, and thus declining positions, led to some religious being exposed to market forces for ministries. School principals, whether religious or lay, still have the power and responsibility of staffing. This has now become an excessive burden for principals of Catholic schools in the coun-try, and an excessive power for those in the city. One solution would be to have staff recruitment moved to the systemic level so that consistent staffing policies might be applied across dioceses. This might lessen the number of religious who today feel forced into the fourth category above. The exposure of some religious to market forces in the area of ministry is quite a different method of missioning than the appropriate placement of a person by a religious superior. The question should be asked: Is it just for the two types of missioning to coexist ~within the same religious institute? The answer to this important question will require great honesty and humility on the part of religious leaders. Religious exposed to market forces are some-times refused employment in diocesan works or, when school enrollments drop, dismissed by school principals of their own congregation who have the power of recruitment. Such practices are effectively structuring out of Catholic education the few teaching religious who are left, and are a serious cause of unemployment amongst religious. Some religious teachers even turn to the state school system for employment rather than lose touch with the classroom and "real life." Considering the authentic commitment which the religious have made, this alternative seems to the present writer an anomaly. On the other hand, relatively little investment has been made by the wider Australian Church over the last twenty years for the education in theology of lay teachers for Catholic schools. The above problems can now be solved only by negotiations between diocesan and religious leaders who have in mind the well-being of both the mission and the persons. As well, past oversight in planning could perhaps be avoided in the future if religious are encouraged to contribute ideas through appropriate media. Adequate Use of Media There are two levels of written communication which are particularly important in preserving a correct balance between responsibility for authen-tic mission and respect for the rights of individuals. These levels are media within the wider Church and media within religious institutes. Media within the Wider Church. Recruitment of personnel for Catholic works is effected via both the Catholic journals and the metropolitan dailies. Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 679 Like most other countries, Australia has its regular Catholic state and dioce-san papers. Because these are virtually all the Catholic community has for information on what is happening in the Church, they warrant better support and readership than they receive~ In general, editorial staffs in this country strive to maintain an adequate standard of journalism. Despite these vehicles of communication, religious leaders sometimes offer only private invitations to coveted positions which become available. They would avoid much criti-cism if they were to justify, via the Catholic media, such private invitations, especially those to academic posts in Catholic theological institutes, which remain predominantly male. Media within Religious Institutes. If any group of people ever needed to be skilled in transmitting information to each other, it would surely be the members of a religious community. Today there is frequent reference to the "role of the prophet" within religious institutes. Prophets must have vehicles in which they can deliver the message, and the printed word offers the par-ticular benefit of time for considered expression and response. I believe that religious institutes need especially these two kinds of print media: directo-ries and forums for challenge. Directories. In order for general leaders to affirm a work as part of the institute's authentic mission, they must understand clearly what the work is about and be sufficiently convinced of its value to defend it, if necessary, at the general chapter. On the other hand, if chapter delegates believe that the congregation has more ministries than they can validly affirm, they should seriously and courageously argue that systematic steps be taken towards reducing the number.4 Chapter delegates, in order to make valid contribu-tions to discussions and debates regarding works, must have information about their nature and value. Since this is so, it stands to reason that those who elected them--namely, all members of the institute--should have it too. Therefore, each apostolic institute in today's world needs its own official directOry, revised and published annually and containing information on the residence and mission of each member. The directory, which would be an implicit demographic study of the institute, should contain, as well, an annu-al financial statement of the institute and its provinces, with statistics on works which had some elements in common. I believe this would assist greatly in the appropriate placement of personnel and act as a deterrent to increasing fragmentation in ministries. Forum for Challenge. If members of religious institutes with at least parallel qualifications to lay teachers are to have the same work opportuni-ties in the institutes' traditional ministries, then positions that are open should be advertised first within "the system." Trade unions insist on this 680 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 right for their civilly employed members, so it should not be too much to expect within the religious institutes themselves. As well, religious subjects often have insights and ideas for better management which are unknown to superiors. They should have the opportunity to share them. Their ideas may be of benefit to all so that problems like unemployment may be addressed before they gain a hold. Since religious women were, for over a hundred years, to an extent indoctrinated not to express an opinion, they will need to be encouraged to contribute. Therefore, internal journals which contain forums for challenge must have a mandate from a competent authority and must be frequent and regular. When what is written in them is not uncharita-ble- that is, criticizes a policy or a structure and does not attack a particular person--and is limited in audience to professed members of the institute, then it is not a threat to loyalty. Indeed, such a forum could become a c.orpo-rate examination of conscience and could preserve or restore the balance between responsibility for authentic mission and the rights of the person. It could also act as a specific prevention or cure of the evil of unemployment within the religious institute. In educating religious to the use of an internal journal, it should be pointed out that the institute, being made up of human beings, is quite subject to error and that it could be harmful to their beioved congregation to write only of its virtues and to overlook its faults, including possibly incorrect policies with regard to the placement of personnel. Conclusion More than twenty years have passed now since religious congregations first experienced declining numbers and lay teachers became an ac.cepted part of Catholic education here in Australia, so there has be~n adequate time to face up to problems which have occurred regarding recruitment for specif-ic works. Sister Georgine recommends that a program "address all the dimensions of employment and unemployment." However, "job clubs" and "comprehensive programs" are unlikely to take shape until religious leaders acknowledge that the problem is there. I believe that leaders also have the duty to provide those engaged in the works with information and reflection based on surveys or particular works so that they will know what the scope of that work will be in the future, how long the work itself is likely to sur-vive, and what the superiors are planning in that regard. There is no guarantee that any of the above proposals are a complete cure for the evil of unemployment within religious life. However, endeavor-ing to maintain a correct balance between responsibility f~r the mission and respect for the persons of the members of the institute goes to the causes of the evil and is more likely to effect a long-term cure. The use of appropriate Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 681 media is a method of achieving the "maximum feasible participation" in effecting a cure. We are living in a world at the brink of the third Christian millennium. It is a world which needs the commitment of consecrated reli-gious life as much as ever and perhaps more than ever. A life wholly dedi-cated to contemplation is a rare gift. However, there is plenty of evidence to indicate that apostolic institutes of consecrated life have an important place in contemporary society. The chief characteristic of Christian moral doctrine besides its Christocentric orientation is the integration of love and justice, the latter being "the strong and firm will to give to each his due.''5 For a reli-gious woman who has sacrificed potential marriage, motherhood, and career in order to serve the Church in an institute devoted to apostolic ministry, unemployment is a serious injustice. The Church and religious institutes should work together for both prevention and cure. NOTES I See R. Hoffman, "Mission," in The New Catholic Encyclopedia. 2 For the purpose of the present article, the word employment will sometimes refer to apostolic work, whether or not the religious has employment status in the civil law. 3 The present writer admits to a certain bias towards instrumental music teaching. I believe that this work is of great importance to the liturgy of the Church. One of the long-term effects of the mergings of parish schools and the employment of lay teach-ers in Australian Catholic education was the death of much traditional music prac-tice, which was not absorbed into the diocesan systems and had few protective structures. It seems to me that the most important strategy for preserving the practice of music is to remove revenue management from the hands of the individual teacher. Otherwise the work tends to become like that of a self-employed person--a situation which is not compatible with either poverty or obedience. Skilled musicians in parishes attract worshipers. I believe that budgeting towards producing musicians for the Church should be part of its primary mission. 4 The idea of permitting novices to have unlimited scope in "working out" their future ministry is, I believe, a recipe for disaster; apostolic congregations already have difficulty in staffing missions recognized as authentic to their charism. 5 New Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 8, p. 70. Quotation from St. Thomas Aquinas (ST 2 a2ae, 58.1). Inner Africa: A ,Journey of Conversion Susan Rakoczy, 1.H.M. Sister Susan Rakoczy, I.H.M., began ministry in South Africa in October 1989 and currently lectures in systematic theology and spirituality at St. Joseph's Theological Institute in Cedara. Her address is 21 Buchanan Street; 3290 Howick; South Africa. It was about 2:30 in the morning as the door of the plane was opened. The humid and steaming air of West Africa enveloped me as I was pushed down the stairs by the crowd onto the tarmac of Ougadougou airport. Swept along with women carrying immense bondles on their heads, children looking for their parents, and determined men striding forward, 1 suddenly thought, "I am on holy ground--I am in Africa." But if I had bent down to kiss the ground I would have been trampled--better to let myself be borne by the flow of humanity to the small airport terminal and the arrival procedures. In the rush and confusion of all the formalities I could sense that I had now entered something deeper than my own self for 1 was touching "mother Africa." Later, as we stowed our luggage in a friend's car for the drive to the hostel to spend what was left of the night I wondered, "What have I done with my life?" What indeed. ? The experiences of my years in Ghana (1982 to 1988) provided many different answers to that question. Most essentially they led me into the depths of conversion Which I can describe now as "inner Africa" for I soon learned that "mother Africa" would ask everything of me. The Call Some people dream all their lives of serving outside their own country, but that was not my experience. Not until I was finishing my doctoral studies in religion at Catholic University in 1980 did I sense a call to serve beyond North America. Through the months of preparation, prayer, and discussion 682 Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 683 which preceded my journey to Ghana, people often asked, "Why are you going?" Slowly I clarified my own sense of call, speaking of my desire to share something of my gifts and education with the "young Church" of Africa. As I read about Africa and its needs, struggles, and promise I became aware of a continent and Church reaching towards maturity of faith and vision. Somehow I sensed very deeply that I wanted to be part of that. But it is not enough just to desire to serve in Africa. It is an immense continent, large enough to contain the continental United States two-and-a-half times. I received an invitation to teach in the major seminary in northern Ghana (our congregation had come to that section of the country in 1976) and so the plan was to come and spend a year getting acquainted with the culture and life of the people and then to begin teaching in 1983. As with many people who come to Africa, things did not turn out quite as I had planned. While I did work in Navrongo, a small town in Ghana for a year, the seminary door never opened wide enough to admit a woman theologian. But life at the Centre for Spiritual Renewal, a retreat center in the city of Kumasi, gave me a much wider scope for ministry with opportunities in retreats and spiritual direction, intensive leadership formation with prayer group leaders, and writing and editing, all of which enabled me to enter more deeply into Ghanaian life and culture. All the preparation I tried to do, while helpful in some ways, was still inadequate to the challenge of Africa. After I arrived I realized that what I needed was a radical openness, a sense of adventure, a desire to meet the continent and its people on their own terms. As the day of departure neared my own sense of expectancy of what was ahead increased. Shortly before I left I spent a few days on retreat at our com-munity hermitage. The entries in my journal for those days speak of praying for courage and joy and experiencing great wonder at this call I had received. The night before I left I wrote: Tomorrow~departure. I feel more than ready. Mostly I feel a deep free-dom and joy which has placed fear on the sidelines. Somehow 1 know I will meet the Lord--in and of his people--in ways never before imag-ined and experienced. And that is enough--more than enough--to move me across oceans and cultures. 1 go in utter joy and freedom. As the plane left United States soil the next day, ! remember how my whole spirit moved forward towards Africa. Soon I descended the steps of that plane that hot morning in Ougadougou. Inner and outer Africa now began. Call To Conversion As I reflect on my years in Ghana, I experience them in the images of 684 / Review for Religious; September-October 1991 "outer" and "inner" Africa. The first was the living of African reality in terms of my ministry; it describes what I did, with whom I lived, the rich-ness of my experience in those years. But "inner Africa" was the core of it all. My years in Ghana were fore-most an experience of conversion--a turning from, in order to turn to some-thing else, something which challenged everything I thought I was, knew, and had within me. Paul Robb, S.J., describes well the essence of conversion as a journey into the unknown: It is difficult to endure conversion because it seems to put into jeopardy our very lifestyle and ministry, but even more so because we sense that it touches the very roots of our life. It reaches deep into our being---our personality, our choices, our very self. It touches in places that are unknown, places where we are strangers. To begin a journey into an unfamiliar, haunting land is frightening, but not to know whether we will find life or death, blessing or curse, at the end can be terrifying. To enter the journey with all its uncertainties proves the possibility of finding life and life in abundance. Not to begin the journey, but to harden and steel oneself against it, is already death.2 The images are true and strong and evocative of my own African experi-ence. In my first weeks, as I entered "outer Africa" in its immensity with all the challenges of a new culture, 1 also experienced a sense of inner chaos. Some days I felt as if I were drowning, the waters of Africa enveloping me, About two months after I arrived I realized that I had to truly "walk through the door of Africa" ifI were to survive. In my journal I wrote: I have straddled first- and third-world existence in great disharmony. Today I felt that part of this is ended--it is within Africa now--that (God's) grace will work, from the inside out. It is as though 1 have now truly entered Africa. Once I had walked onto the solid ground of Africa never again did I feel this inner chaos. The work of conversion could now begin. These conver-sions were multiple and touched every dimension of my life as a North American woman of faith in a radically different culture: My first-world perspective was turned upside down; I was called from idealism to realism; I moved from giving to receiving; 1 experienced strength becoming weakness; I passed from death to life--from myself to God alone. Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 685 First-World Perspective Turned Up-Side Down We come to a new culture as we are. If we are even halfway faithful to the challenges of cross-cultural experience, our own self-understanding of our home culture will change dramatically. This I experienced very pro-foundly. I discovered that I had brought a very large amount of cultural bag-gage with me. It was disconcerting to be criticized as "too American" at times--that is, too self-assured, too curious, too organized, too conscious of time; too ready with my questions and opinions. What was salutary, if painful, was the opportunity to allow my world-view to shift into new patterns. I first learned that the United States is not the center of the universe, even if it often acts that way and its military and eco-nomic policies impact the rest of the planet in such dramatic ways. It is one country among many, with its own strengths and weaknesses. I learned also how diverse and beautiful are the gifts of the people of other countries. 1 especially experienced this gift in the opportunities 1 had to meet people from so many different parts of the world and to enter into something of the richness of the world's cultural heritage, to see how differently people can feel, think, and organize human life. There were two central ways in which my world began to be "turned upside down": my experience of poverty and my attempts to learn new dimensions of the common life and hospitality. Poverty is a hard and often a "loaded" word. We fight it and yet some-how sense that in being poor we will find the key to new life in solidarity with others. The Gospel's call to detachment from riches and from every-thing that would hinder our response to the invitation from Jesus to disciple-ship has always challenged Christians profoundly. To come to Ghana was certainly to see poverty and share in it in some small ways. It was indeed a shock for me to see the extent of poverty and marginality: lack of clean and safe water for so many, schools with few books, hospitals and clinics without supplies, limited transportation, rudi-mentary communication, erratic electricity. Some of the practical details of my new lifestyle were a challenge. It was "farewell" to dependable electrici-ty, unlimited water, telephone service, easily available fuel, and to book-shops, movies, and regular postal service. It was, on the other hand, "hello" to a sense of living on the "edge of things" at times--lanterns and attempts to get kerosene for them, recycling every possible drop of water, limited food supplies, simple amusements, and difficulties in communication. All these changes were hard in different ways. I wrote: I am struck again by the gap between theory and practice in my life, for 686 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 example, to talk about poverty, being with the poor--and then not to embrace poverty wholeheartedly, as indeed Jesus did. The:conversion to acceptance of and a certain ease with my new simple lifestyle took time. I never did get used to the erratic postal system and its consequences for poor communication with family and friends. On the other hand, as the years went by I gradually experienced in myself a certain ability to live with much less and to find in that a real freedom. To have to do things simply and patiently experience inconvenience gradually became a way for me to share some sense of solidarity with the poor who have no options and no outside resources. I was becoming comfortable with the simplicity of Ghanaian life and my heart was slowly becoming centered on what was most essential. I was not poor in the way the ordinary Ghanaian is poor but I did come to experience in small ways the shocks and diminishments of poverty. 1 also learned new meanings of community life and hospitality because African life is lived in common. The extended family of several generations living together in one compound has been the normal pattern in rural areas. Daily activities take place outside, and people are inside only when it is rain-ing, or at night, or if they are sick. The atmosphere in both urban and rural areas is one of physical and psychological openness to friend and stranger. Entering into such a different cultural atmosphere of hospitality and availability also challenged my Western habits. In the West we live inside; people come into our lives generally at our convenience thanks to the cultur-al presuppositions that one lives by calendars and schedules. But in a situa-tion where the culture says "welcome" all that changes. People walk into one's life often unannounced, and the person at the door could bring the unexpected pleasure of a friend coming to visit or someone arriving for a retreat without any previous communication or someone coming to ask for prayer---or the bishop with overseas visitors. 1 learned to be always ready to adapt to people's needs and to realize that my life and my time were really no longer my own, Prayer time was often interrupted; reading and study had to be immediately abandoned to answer someone's need. Privacy became very relative since, although I had my own room and office, my own space and time were now the resources of the people I tried to serve. These demands taught me much about my own selfishness, the need to have my own way, my own schedule, my own plans. I never did become totally comfortable with being physically and psychologically available at all times. Yet gradually I learned to absorb something of the spirit of welcome and hospitality which are so important in Ghanaian culture and to live them in my halting way. Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 687 The first dimension of conversion in my life then was a shift in con-sciousness from being a woman of the first world to one living in the third world and trying to enter fully into life there. My American perspective and cultural habits were turned upside down and inside out. The result was a double-consciousness for I saw, and felt, and experienced first- and third-world realities at the same time. Nothing could or would be the same again. From Idealism to Realism Soon after I came to Ghana I realized what a "good press" the African Church has in the West. The reading I had done before I arrived had given me the overwhelming impression of a "young Church" on its way to real inculturation as a true African expression of the Christian faith, with signifi-cant achievements already made in liturgy and catechesis. It is true that inculturation is happening, theological development and reflection are proceeding, liturgy is more authentically African in some places--but the pace of everything is slow and that is the pace of Africa. Idealism about the Church was gradually replaced by a realism about the Church as it is. To be a "young" Church is exactly that. In the southern part of Ghana modern Catholic

Issue 45.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1986. ; REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS (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 ave located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvIEw FOR REIolGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year: $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write i~vlr~w FOR I~LtG~OUS: EO. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel E X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Sept. / Oct., 1986 Volume 45 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to I~v~Ew FOn REt,tG,OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW ~Oa REL~C~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell . Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major 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. Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Mary A nn Fatula, O.P. Sister Mary Ann is the Chairperson of the Theology Department of Ohio Dominican College (1216 Sunbury Road; Columbus, OH 43219). Her last article, "Trusting in the Providence of God," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1986. In company with other religious orders, we Dominicans have placed a great amount of energy into reclaiming our mission of apostolic preaching in the Church. Yet even as we have become increasingly competent and profes-sional in our ministries, more than a few of us have sensed that something is radically missing from our reappropriation and that our mission requires far more of us than the total dedication of our energies to ministry. If we are honest, we must admit to a growing pain which we too easily push aside because we fear the cost of facing its implications. We find our ministries consuming us, sapping our energies and perhaps making very little real or lasting impact on others in spite of our hectic lives. At the same time, we see that the women and men drawn to Dominican life do not come to us for the sole sake of ministry. In many cases they already have been successful in a ministry and are looking for a committed community which will nourish their prayer and service in the Church. Yet we know in our hearts that precisely what these young people desire and have aright to expect from us we seem unable to offer them. In addition, our study of Dominic shows us that his vision entailed not simply a task to be accomplished but the far more comprehensive and demanding reality of a life to he lived. As we catch glimpses of these truths, we are beginning to suspect that our desire for "something more" in our life together expresses 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 the Spirit's own cry within us for the very life to which this same Spirit has called us: a life of preaching as the apostles did, out of a rich communion not only with the Lord but also with one another. The Relation Between Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Many of us may not have reflected on the importance of community when we entered religious life, and yet we probably experienced its value, at some level at least, simply because we could not escape its structure. Today, however, we often have local settings in which hardly a semblance of com-munity life exists. On weekends no one is around; on weekdays it is difficult, if not impossible, to find one evening during a given month when even a small community is present in its totality at a supper meal. In many instances, not much binds us together except the TV set. We know by experience that simply promulgating laws does not make us choose something, no matter how valuable it is. We make free commit-ments because we have experienced the beauty of the reality held out to us, or because our hearts and minds reach out to claim a value when its beauty becomes apparent to us. Perhaps we do not experience the beauty of common life today--quite the opposite. But a deepened understanding of what common life can and must be for us could inspire us to consciously claim it anew. Far from providing "icing on the cake" to pep up our mission, so to speak, apostolic common life is literally a matter of life and death for us: if we do not reclaim it, we will perish. The interior communion and interdependence at the heart of Dominic's vision is something no structure or law can deliver to us; no outside force will hold us responsible for living it unless we ourselves do. Dominican apostolic common life, and thus the Dominican mission, will survive only if living men and women freely choose to devote their energy to living it. As M.H. Vicaire points out, Dominic renewed the apostolic life in its fullness precisely because he founded the outer element of missio upon the inne~ element of communio. The mission of itinerant preaching of God's word, the very ministry that founds the Church, was to flow from the rich interior life the Dominicans lived through prayer, the evangelical counsels, community and study. Far more than the task of merely verbal or written preaching, Dominic's mission entailed living the Word we preach with our mouths and pens, preaching in fact with our very lives. "I have come to cast fire on the earth" (Lk 12:49). We know the differ-ence between the preaching of mere words, and the kind which enlightens and sets fire to us: "Were not our hearts burning within us as he spoke to us on the way" (Lk 42:32). Dominican preaching is meant to be both light (or the mind and warmth for the heart because that preaching Dominican Mission / 643 comes from fire in the heart. This constitutes the Dominican mission in the Church, inseparably Word and Spirit, truth and love, light and fire--the fire of loving communion lived and put into words. The Spirit of communion anointed Jesus himself in the word he proclaimed (Lk 4:18); gathering a community around him, he preached not as an isolated individual but united to his Father and also to the twelve: "Let usgo to the next towns that we may preach there also, for this is why I came out" (Mk 1:39). When Jesus sends the apostles to preach, he sends them not one by one, but two by two (Mk 6:7). A witness at Dominic's canonization process in Bologna testified, "his words were so moving that most of the time he himself and his listeners were stirred to tears." We ourselves weep when something in a speaker's heart sets fire to our own hearts. Dominic wept when he preached because he spoke of what he loved and lived in his communion with the living God and with brothers and sisters. Jordan of Saxony writes of him that his "fre-quent and special prayer to God was for the gift of true charity." In a marve-lously creative synthesis Dominic combined the itinerant preaching of the apostles with the communio of the early Church. Preaching formed the purpose of the Dominicans' prayer, study, and community; but even more, the apostolic life they lived together, the reality of their love and communion with one another in the Lord, constituted the loudest and clearest word they preached. "Living Together," Community Life, and Common Life We have learned to distinguish between mission and ministry; our mission of preaching entails living the apostolic life in its fullness, preaching what we live, while our ministries express that mission in concrete and diverse ways. In a similar manner, we can distinguish between simply living together, community living and common life. Most of us perhaps know the first reality, "living under the same roof." Like ships in the night we greet each other but have no real connection to or interaction'with one another. Some of us may know, too, the deeper reality of community life, concrete sharing of goals, interests, work, prayer, responsibilities. But the words "common life" in fact translate the Latin word communio denoting an interior reality, a union of hearts and minds which only the Spirit can effect. Certainly this communion must be expressed in concrete forms, yet its reality is far more deep and inclusive than what "living together" or even "community life" denotes. We can share many things in community and still not share the deepest reality for which we are called together, the Lord whose love makes us one. The Hebrew and Christian Scriptures which, inspired Dominic's vision 644 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 portray preachers as people joined together to receive and to proclaim the Word expressing the very life they live in communion with others. Recalling how communities gathered around the Hebrew prophets, the author of John 17 places on the lips of Jesus the following prayer: May they "be one, as you, Father, in me, and I in you." May they all "be one in us, that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them." These words hint at the truth that no mere human effort can bring about communio. We have already tried human plans, projects, laws and programs, and we still find that we cannot achieve by our own efforts alone the kind of communion to which we are called as Dominicans. Only the Spirit gives life, and only the Spirit can offer us the power to live the kind of communion to which our vocation calls us, a human sacrament of the unspeakable com-munion at the heart of the triune God. When we ourselves love, we find that the closer we come to another, the more the union causes a bitter-sweet pain precisely because we cannot achieve the kind of oneness we desire. Because we cannot literally have one mind and heart with another; there remains always that final place in us which no one else can know or enter. But the Father, Son and Spirit live literally one life; in their communion no hint of division or separation exists. Our call to communio, to the common life, invites and urges us to be in some way a sacrament of this trinitarian communion. The Acts of the Apostles describes this reality among the early Christians: "The company of believers were of one heart and one soul in the Lord . . . they had all in common" (Ac 4:32). Here common life signifies not simply the sharing of material goods but ultimately the interior bond which makes them of one mind and heart in the Lord. Precisely because of this communion, the early disciples share everything in a "common life." This apostolic communio described in Acts 4:32 clearly inspired Dominic's own vision. The Rule of Augustine which he adopted for his Order opens with the proclamation that those gathered together have been called by the Lord precisely to live with one heart and mind in the Lord. And the primitive Constitution of his Order begins with this prologue: "Because a precept of our Rule commands us to have one heart and one mind in the Lord, it is fitting that., the uniformity maintained in our external conduct may foster and indicate the unity which should be present interiorly in our hearts. "" The earliest constitution of Dominic's Order thus identifies preaching not as a mere speaking of words, but as the expression of unity in the Lord which even in their diversity binds the members together in the apostolic common life. Dominican Mission / 645 The Basic Constitution adopted at River Forest in 1968 emphasizes this theme anew. The first three paragraphs speak of the mission of proclaiming God's Word, but the fourth paragraph makes clear the very heart of this mission: "Because we share the mission of the apostles, we follow their way of life as Dominic conceived it. With one soul we live in community." This distinction between the interior communion and the concrete expression of it in community life has important implications. Those who for serious reasons are unable to live in Dominican community may yet be truly living in the communion that binds us together with one heart and soul in God. Communio does have to be lived out in concrete ways, and community life is one of them, but Dominican communio is lived out also through study, prayer and ministry that flow from our interior union with our brothers and sisters in Dominic's family. We are called to foster one heart and soul in the Lord--a mystery far more deep and demanding than simply living under one roof. The Holy Spirit at the Heart of Dominican Apostolic Communion We address Dominic as "Preacher of grace" precisely because his procla- ¯ marion came not only from grace, from the Spirit's fire, but also spoke about grace, the supremacy of God's mercy and power in our lives. The Dominican mission calls us to preach from the fullness of our own experience of this mercy, our own realization that finally God's work and not our own will save us. In our attempts to renew and to live this communion among us, we are thus brought to our knees; the word of grace we are called to preach to others becomes only a "noisy gong and clanging cymbal" (1 Cot 13:1) unless it is also the word of grace we ourselves live together. In writing of love, Aquinas stresses how the activities of knowing and loving expand and enlarge us by uniting us to reality beyond ourselves. The process of becoming mature adults entails the ability to extend ourselves outside of our own limited being to others around us. Knowledge takes reality into us, so to speak, but in also lov!ng what we know we reach out in an "ecstatic" movement outward toward what we love (ST I, 16, 1). In love, we put others in place of ourselves and regard their good truly as if it were our own. The ecstatic nature of love's union in this way truly enlarges our being, increasingly actualizing us as human persons. Thomas distinguishes, however, between self-gratifying love and the love of friend-ship. In self-gratifying love, although we seem to be drawn out of ourselves to good outside us, the movement of love remains within us and focused on ourselves; we desire the good of others not for their sake but for our own (ST I, 28, 3). The love of friendship, in contrast, loves others as equals and directs 646 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 our affection outside of us to their reality precisely as other. True union thus happens only when we reach out of ourselves in an unselfish move-ment of love toward others' own uniqueness. Yet as experience itself teaches us, our own efforts alone cannot effect this kind of love. Precisely for this reason, "the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Most of our communities have engaged in some program of helping us to appreciate and to tap our own resources, especially the gift of one another. But the gift we have left most untapped is the very person of the Spirit. Aquinas notes that the Spirit's name as Gift denotes gratuitous, unreturnable bestowal, with no expectation of return. And because a gift is presented to us only so that it may belong to us, the Spirit given to us is truly ours, our possession, our gift, our Spirit (ST I, 38, 1). Dominican women especially are called upon to renew this awareness of and reliance upon the Spirit's power in our life and ministry together. If we would claim our affinity for the Spirit's tender mercy and strength within and among us, we could become ourselves a new gift in and for the Dominican family, a living gift of women who live and speak the anointed word. For the word we have preached as Dominicans too often has not conveyed or come from the Spirit's anointing. This seems to me a special contribution which Dominican women can make to the Order today: to live and to proclaim the word of truth warmed with the fire. of life. Aquinas stresses that the Word cannot be divorced from the Holy Spirit: because the Son eternally breathes forth the very love between him and the Father, the living person of the Spirit, the Word is always Verbum spirans amorem-- the Word breathing forth love (ST I, 43, 5, ad 2). Only when we internalize this truth will we live out our call to be preachers not simply of the Word but of the anointed Word. Our mission to preach the Word by its very nature thus demands our increasing submission to the Spirit of God in whom we are to find the motiva-tion and power for our life together. "Ask, and it will be given you . . . if you who are evil know how.to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Fath.er give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him" (Lk 11:9, 13). We need to call down upon our life together the Spirit who alone can effect the interior communio at the heart of our preach-ing mission. As Aquinas stresses, the charity at the heart of our union is a created participation in the very person of the Spirit (ST II-II, 24, 2). This is a profound and radical insight, it seems to me: the bond of love we share is in some sense nothing less than the very reality of the Spirit, the divine person of love. As a participation in this Spirit, charity heals and enlivens our capacity to love one another truly as other. Again as Aquinas Dominican Mission / ~147 comments, charity of all the virtues has the strongest inclination to its act, for it reaches out to live in a spontaneous movement of pleasure and delight (ST II-II, 24, 5, ad 3; II-II, 23, 2). Since the Spirit's own person dwells in us by charity, making his power of love in some sense our very own, charity is specifically the same act whereby we love God and also one another. The movement of selfless love that binds us to each other thus of its very nature binds us also to God (ST II, 25, 1). The interior communion at the heart of our preaching mission calls us to reach out to one another's joys and sorrows, but we know how difficult it is to do this. We may be physically in the same room, apparently speaking and listening to one another, and yet we know in our hearts how often we are not present to one another's concerns. This kind of communion can happen only when the Spirit opens us to one another. As William Hill points out, the Spirit--and not just some effect of the Spirit's activity--is the very bond in some way uniting us in apostolic communion.' Perhaps we have had tastes of this communion at a time when we were bound together in a community sorrow or joy or at a time of deep prayer and celebration. We may have experienced this interior bond when the group was lost in silence and we had an intimation that our common life is not simply words we say or tasks we do for another. As Hill notes, when the Spirit "lays fast hold of us, we begin to live from a personal center that is our own self.''2 This last insight suggests that Dominican apostolic common life is possible only at the price of a profound continuing conversion on the part of each of us. W~ are called to live not from a center of narrow interest and self-concern, but from the abundant love of the Spirit who enlarges our hearts by making room in them for the truth of one another, In the depths of our being, the Spirit "lures us to the self-transcendence" of interdependence in the midst of our diversity: "The proper domain of the Spirit is not life in isolation, but in communion.''3 Neither Jesus nor Dominic sent our people one by one to convert the world, to be individual leavens in many places. This is a valid call, but it is not ours as Dominicans. If we are to live our charism in the Church, our preach-ing must express the fire of love that we live first of all in communion with one another. Individual men and women may have 1o minister alone in special cases, but their ministry also is called to give voice to the communion at the heart of the Dominican mission. If we are truly to live what we preach and preach what we live, the word we proclaim as Dominicans must express the apostolic communion we live with one another. The apostles' own preaching had such power because it overflowed with the Spirit's love lived in communion with one another, Because the Spirit inflames and anoints our preaching only to the extent that this same Spirit 648 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 binds us in love in one another, we will rediscover what it means to be fire in the Church, as Dominic was, only when we rediscover the absolute central-ity of apostolic communion. In many instances we still do not preach and minister out of the abundant communio we live with one another. And to the extent that we do not, we are insipid in the Church, a "noisy gong" and a "clanging cymbal" (1 Cor 13:1). Each of us is called to beg the Spirit's grace in our individual life and in our life together that our preaching would in fact give voice to the communioh we live with one another. Renewing Common Life Through Renewing the Four Elements of Dominican Life Because the Spirit's grace entails the mystery of both God's activity in us and also our free human cooperation, perhaps our most significant task in deepening our communion is to give renewed attention to each of the four elements which comprise Dominican apostolic life. And for both Dominican women and men, it may well be not simply a question of reclaim-ing but also of claiming these elements as our own in a way we have never done before. With regard to the first of the elements, prayer, we realize that our preach-ing is meant to flow from the abundance of our contemplation: "'contemplata aliis tradere. "" Yet too often we find ourselves saying, "My work is my prayer; the demands of my ministry prevent me from devoting explicit time to prayer." But as Vincent de Couesnongle, former master general of the Order, commented in an address at Providence in 1982, "People quickly distinguish the preachers who speak of the Friend with whom they constantly live, from the preachers who speak of him as of a stranger and try to pass him off as a companion with whom they are on familiar terms. The first know how to speak about God, because they are in the habit of speaking to God." People are thirsting to find in us women and men of God, and they recognize our pretense when we do not pray. And because this is so, what we most owe others in our ministry is precisely what we do with our time when we are not with them. Experience itself teaches us the paradox of grace: that God accomplishes wonderful things through us when we do not devote one hundred percent of our time to ministry, when we devote ourselves also to adoration before the living God in prayer. Many of us are perfectionists who think that our time must be consumed by projects to make our ministry more effective. Without belittling these efforts, more than a few of us are discovering that redirecting some of our " energy from compulsive busy-ness to time in prayer and fostering contempla-tive peace in our lives effect far more profound results than our efforts alone could have accomplished. What we do with our time when our people do Dominican Mission / 649 not see us often bears the deepest gifts for them when they do see us. We owe the people to and with whom we minister a consecration of our time to prayer so that they will find in us living evidence that God's presence and mercy fill the world. With regard to the second element of Dominican life, we are beginning to suspect the radical nature of our call to study. Dominic identifies as the crucial element at the heart of his Order the sacred study which opens us to contemplation and preaching. And is this not what we most lack in our lives today? Again, in his 1982 Providence address, de Couesnongle stresses, "It is a systematic, deepened and persevering study that we need to under-take . If this is not the case, then spiritual suffocation awaits us. The experience of each one of us shows this sufficiently." De Couesnongle com-ments that he stopped congratulating members of the Order for working so hard precisely because "people are overworked., they believe that one has to work like this. And thus, an unbalanced life results" whose equilibrium can be regained only by "stressing more a basic study that is at once serious and prayerful." Without prayer and study, we do no real preaching. We women especially must claim as never before our call to profound study; if we think we have no time for this because of our ministry's demands, we fool ourselves. No one will force us to study; this is a priority choice we ourselves must make. We come now to the third element that fosters communio, our com-munity life. In 1980, de Couesnongle noted in his report to the General Chapter meeting at Walberberg that he too easily believed the common life could be renewed simply by insisting on meetings and rules, as if these would automatically bring results. He came to see that true community life flourishes only to the extent that each person freely chooses to commit herself or himself to a real interest in the community members and to sharing what makes up his or her own life. "The newspaper and TV . . . will simply not suffice to excite and nourish an authentic community life. How many of us know how to share with outsiders what is best about ourselves, but become soeechless with our sisters and brothers?" We need to become, as never before, women~and men of the Word shared with one another, choosing to live what Dominic asked of us by speaking to and about God with one another. Is this not what we so little do? Because very few structures foster our communio, community life will cease to exist unless we freely choose it. We easily blame those in authority for the erosion of our life together when in fact we ourselves are responsible for its life or death. If our communities die, each one of us is responsible. We must begin to speak the Word to one another, to pray together, to speak to one another of deeper matters than simply the weather. 650 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Because mission is our purpose, our community life and sharing of the Word with one another cannot be a matter of adding more time requirements to our already busy day; our commitment to one another must be in terms of quality rather than quantity time. Even if we are fortunate enough to experience a measure of community life, it is often not communio, our shared faith in the living God, that binds us together. But by taking advantage of the opportunities we already have for quality time together, we can take the risk of improving the level of conversation at table and of sharing the Word at our prayer and house meetings. And instead of harboring anger and resentment, we can begin to speak the truth in love to one another, for even honest fights do far more to foster communio than polite silence. Candidates to our communities who may have tremendous gifts for preaching and prayer and yet do not value the commitment to communio show by this very fact that whatever call they do have, it is not to Dominican life. And we who have already consecrated ourselves to this life must con-sciously choose today what perhaps we have never really chosen before, a true commitment to the community life that fosters the communio at the heart of our Dominican mission. De Couesnongle noted in his 1982 Provi-dence talk that as we have abandoned structures, individualism and non-par-ticipation have grown, and these are the "enemy number-one of community life." "Community life demands interpersonal relationships. Are we not too easily secretive. Do we not spontaneously hide what we are?. We bottle ourselves up and dodge compromising questions." He also notes the radical nature of our present call to community, precisely because so much today militates against a true union among us. We have become as secula-rized as the world, as filled, perhaps, with a selfish individualism that makes it increasingly difficult for us to reach out of ourselves to one another. Just as we ourselves must ratify our own baptismal vows, we Domini-cans are called to make a personal choice to live in fact what we say we are living. We can no longer escape facing ourselves with the question: "Why am I here? If I want to preach as a Dominican, my preaching must come from a true communio I myself concretely live." Unless each of us squarely faces this question and lives out its implications, we will surely die as com-munities, because we will fail to live our charism in the Church. Since the Dominican tradition has always treasured the richness of plural-ity, there are and will be diverse ways of living our call to communio. Our being bound together with one heart and mind in the Lord will express itself in different ways according to the character of each local community. And if for some serious reason a Dominican must live alone, he or she can still live out the Dominican call to communio-missio by fostering in whatever ways possible a true communion, a oneness of mind and heart with the Dominican Mission / 651 brothers and sisters. As our congregations decrease in numbers, we will be forced to cooperate with one another in the kind of collaboration that the Dominican family asks of us. Increasingly we are called to minister together, to provide options for living in communities of other Dominican congrega-tions in order to preach and minister from a communio concretely lived. And we need to actively work toward these new kinds of configurations. We consider finally the relation between communio and ministry. We Dominican women especially are growing to realize that our mission is not simply ed.ucation but Dominic's mission, the preaching of God's Word through our varied ministries. Each of us needs to take personal responsi-bility for the extent to which her ministry concretely expresses this mission and to ask ourselves how we can best focus our varied gifts in the service of proclaiming the Word. Perhaps more than a few of us are called to re-examine whether the ministry to which we are devoting our energies is the one to which God is calling us now, the ministry which best utilizes our gifts for the mission of proclaiming the Word. We need also to ask ourselves whether we have allowed our ministries to consume and master us, rather than to free us in joyful service. When we fail to live the Dominican call in all of its elements, when we cheat other dimensions of our life to devote all of our energy to ministry, we find our-selves in an inevitable burnout, ministering not out of the abundance of our communion with God and with one another, but out of our own emptiness. Not every possible ministry is meant for us as Dominicans. If we are not ministering from the fullness of a contemplative peace and in a way that fosters this peace in others, we need to face the hard question of why this is so. If all that we bring to the world as Dominicans is more busy-ness, more hectic activity, we have nothing to contribute. What others need from us is not more unpeacefulness but the witness of men and women who minister from the depths of contemplative peace. This is one of the chief ways we are called as Domincans to be counte~:-cultural. When our ministry no longer fosters this peace within and around us, when it drains us end-lessly and yields nothing but unpeace, we need to take a second look at whether God is not calling us to another ministry more at the heart of our mission to proclaim the Word. De Couesnongle points out in his 1982 Providence address: "Work is not prayer., in saying we lack time we find an easy excuse. Do we have the right to present ourselves as religious whose word proceeds from the abundance of contemplation? Time is needed, if we are to pray. Let us find this time and give it to God . . . This is my dream for the Order: contemplation and preaching., preaching ex abundantia contempla- 652 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 tionis. "' This is also Dominic's dream for us. But a dream becomes reality only when we ask it as a gift from God and then with all of our hearts make a conscious choice to commit ourselves to its realization., together. In his 1970 commentary on the Fundamental Constitution, Vicaire stresses that our one profession, our one vow, integrates us "'into the communion, and it is the communion which has the mission. "" Our vow consecrates us not only to God but also to one another, for it consecrates us to be a "reli-gious community of life vowed to preaching." Our Dominican life itself "is an apostolic mission in the Church" that springs from the communion we live with one another. Vicaire continues: we are not "just a team engaged in a common task." We are "a community of life, centered essentially in faith's response to the Gospel and in the seeking for God together." Our call to the common life is the heart of our specific mission in the Church, for our preaching as Dominicans is meant to flow from our communion with God and with one another, the communion that makes us in truth of one heart and mind in the Lord. "This requires that we be a true community. We are in it for better or for worse, as in the conjugal community, until death." We need to take seriously this "conjugal" relationship not only with the Lord but also with one another, for as married people can and do tell us, real communion happens only at the cost of personal time and energy and commitment. Our Dominican mission will again bring fire to the Church and world only to the extent that it springs from and expresses the communio we live with one another. As ! write these words, 1 am conscious of how little I live them. But I also know that to run from the truth is to sell our very soul. May the words de Couesnongle spoke in Providence in 1982 about the common life as the indispensable well-spring of our preaching mission in the Church continue to knock at the door of our minds and hearts: "Each of us must feel herself or himself responsible for this. We have to pay out of our own person . Alone and in community, let us have the courage to confront this problem and then, 'Do what he tells you.' " NOTES ~William J. Hill, O.P., The Three-Personed God (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1982), p. 303. 21bid, p. 288. 3lbid, p. 307. Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is well known to our readers especially for the series of yearly surveys in spirituality he authored from 1980 through 1985. For the past year he has been Director of the Spiritual Formation Program at the North American College in Rome, where he may be addressed (00120 Vatican City State). This article originally appeared in the USIG Bulletin (Rome: no. 70, 1986), and is reprinted with permission. The spirited beauty and gracefulness of Jesus Christ has inspired the minds and hearts of women and men for centuries. They have been stirred, at times, to feats of missionary heroism all over the world. At other times, they have found encouragement for quiet, hidden faithfulness to the daily duties of a very ordinary state in life. In all these different types of heroism the moti-vation is the same: an enthusiastic love of Jesus Christ. In some way, then, Christian spirituality is always one and the same. Its beginning and end, its motive and energy always focus on that one whose words still echo in hearts today: "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life" (Jn 14:6). But over the many years, this one, central essence of Christian spirituality has taken expression in many different forms, some of which, at times, have seemed almost irreconcilable. Whenever these different forms are misunderstood and their common rooting in one basic Christian spirituality is forgotten, then they can become competitive or even truly at loggerheads. The interrelationships of each form with the one fundamental Christian spirituality, and of the various forms among themselves, have not always been easy and clear. But as long as we are careful to maintain a lively familiar-ity with and a genuine belief in Jesus Christ as the root and foundation of 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Christian spirituality, we can speak of numerous Christian spiritualities. The following quotations are good examples of two very different dynamics within the one basic Christian spirituality: The Carthusian life rests upon a deep foundation of silence which you know and love, and it is in that depth that the Eternal Word is born for each one of us. There lies our whole vocation: to listen to Him who generates the Word and to live thereby. The Word proceeds from Silence, and we strive to find Him in His Source. This is because the Silence here in question is not a void nor a negation but, on the contrary, Being at its fullest and most fruitful plenitude. That is why it generates; and that is why we keep silent.~ Take down your lantern from its niche and go out! You may not rest in firelight certainties, Secure from drifting fog of doubt and fear. You may not build yourself confining walls And say: 'thus far, and thus, and thus far shall I walk, And these things shall I do, and nothing more.' Go out! For need calls loudly in the winding lanes And you must seek Christ there. Your pilgrim heart Shall urge you still one pace beyond. And love shall be your lantern flame.2 Though the dynamic of expression is different in these two instances, the core of the matter is the same: a heart afire with God's love in Jesus. But there will often be a very significant difference in the details of the daily living out of these two dynamics. And though the difference is never so profound asto destroy a common essence and a genuine bond, yet it is significant enough to prevent an easy identification of these two forms. My concern in this article is to describe and distinguish further these two different charisms or spiritualities, without endangering their basic rootedness in the tradition of Christian spirituality. Often in the past the Christian tra-dition has distinguished between monastic and apostolic spiritualities. I would like to suggest a further refinement of that distinction--a nuance that seems to me to be important and clarifying in these present times of struggle to understand the essence and expression of apostolic spirituality in religious life and throughout the Church. After some comments on the essence of all Christian spirituality as being apostolic, I will describe at some length what I will call two different apostolic lifestyles, charisms or spiritualities: the monastic and the active. Among the ancient world religions Christianity is unique in its strong Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 655 incarnational quality. In the Christian religion, at its center, is the claim that the Son of God became a full human being. Neither a deceptive illusion, nor a passing hallucinatory appearance, Jesus of Nazareth intimately, pre-cisely, awesomely gives flesh in our midst to the God who lives, beyond beginning or end, in unapproachable light and holiness. In Jesus, there can be no doubt that God is turned toward us forever in loving forgiveness and is ineluctably involved with and committed to our world evolving in time. In fact God is the decisive source and gentle sustainer of all being and crea-tion. And so we find in Jesus someone who enters our world confidently and profoundly, someone who lives and loves tenderly, courageously, thoroughly, and yet whose center of identity is never fully of this world. His God, addressed so intimately as Abba, "my dear Father," focuses his heart far beyond all of this world. On Calvary an apparently absurd and horrendous death can be desired, even chosen, precisely because his identity, though fully lived within this world, is not finally rooted here. And this identity is then fully revealed by God in the blessing of resurrection. The God of Christian religion always far transcends in being, beauty and life anything of this world. And so the Christian God is never fully identified with or by anything of the here and now, but, in Jesus, stands forever committed in loving forgiveness to all of us and to our created uni-verse. Fired by the same Spirit of God, all disciples of Jesus must learn to find an identity resonating in God far beyond this world while they live and love with a profound joy and hope that implicates them seriously within this world--but never so as to confine their identity to what they can see, taste and know here and now. And this balanced integration of the seriously incar-national with the transcendently eschatological has never been easy for any disciple of Jesus. There must never be any doubt of Christianity's healthy, creative and serious concern for this world. In the sense of a serious commitment to and involvement with our world, every disciple of Jesus must be intensely apostolic. Not to be apostolic, in this sense, is simply to betray Christian discipleship. For this reason, any facile distinction between apostolic spiritu-alities and monastic spiritualities may confuse, and may even deny the healthy, creative and serious concern--the apostolic concern--with this world that must be part of monastic spirituality. Nevertheless, as the central point of this article will make clear, there are two different ways of living out Christianity's serious, loving concern for this beautiful, anguished world. A central assertion of this article is that the essential apostolic orientation of Christian spirituality can be expressed in either a monastic or an active lifestyle. And these two quite different apostolic lifestyles are the result of God's Spirit at work in the hearts of men and women. This distinction, then, 656 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 is not something simply of human invention. Over centuries, as believers have struggled to be faithful to the Spirit of God inspiring their hearts, apostolic concern for our world expressed itself in a variety of ways. The evidence for our distinction here has resulted from God's love stirring human hearts down the ages. This distinction between the two dynamics of a monastic and an active relationship with the world cuts across the whole Church. It can name the experience of lay men and women as much as it can describe different types of religious congregations. And the Church has not always found it easy to acknowledge and respect these different apostolic charisms among women and men. Today, however, as a result of Vatican II, we are in a better position to recognize and cooperate with the different ways that grace stirs human hearts to express themselves and to be present.to God. To confuse or blur these two distinctive apostolic dynamics runs the danger of not respecting God's call in human hearts and of not cooperating properly in the formation of an appropriate apostolic Christian presence. The monastic and the active styles of Christian apostolate are not meant as hard and fast divisions. Rather, they express tendencies, movements of grace in our hearts. For many people and for many religious congregations, the challenge is to achieve the proper blend of these tendencies. We are speak-ing here, then, of a whole spectrum of development, from the highly monastic with little mixture of the active, right through to the highly active with a similarly small mixture of the monastic. It is like a long clothesline, and every individual and every group in the Church may be imagined as a clothespin that God attaches to some part of the line. As we consider these two different apostolic dynamics and tendencies of grace in the human heart, the issue centers on nothing less than identity-- either the identity of an individual or the corporate identity of a religious congregation. To avoid spiritual schizophrenia and identity confusion, no pins ought to be on the clothesline in the exact center. People who try to focus identity on this central point of the spectrum attempt the impossible balance of a life in apostolic faith of exactly equal monastic and active proportions. Religious congregations that referred in the past to themselves as semi-cloistered have been invited after Vatican II more carefully and decisively to interpret their identity with clear priority for either the monastic or the active style. The semi-cloistered balancing of exactly equal monastic and active dimensions is not possible. And such identity confusion, besides the damage done an individual or a religious congregation, also wreaks havoc in the ministry which, as the product of such identity confusion, must also be con-fused and weakly focused. Before moving now to a description of each of these two apostolic dynamics and lifestyles, two further comments are in order. First, no priority Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 657 of one style over the other is intended. The claim is that the monastic and the active are different and distinctive. There is no claim that they are superior, one to the other, in any way. Second, in describing each dynamic I will center on groups or on individuals who legitimately embody each tendency in a fullness and a clarity--with little qualification and nuance. When seen in such simple clarity and fullness, the dynamic in question can be better appreciated. But it should be understood that for many individuals and reli-gious congregations, the precise challenge is for them to qualify and nuance both dynamics so as to achieve an appropriate and identifying blend of each one.3 The Monastic Apostolic Dynamic I will describe six aspects of the monastic charism. These aspects are not disparate realities that stand on their own; rather they coalesce into a whole sensibility and way of life. As integrated and unified, they make up the monastic experience of God and the monastic vision of reality. These aspects are rooted in a distinctive dynamic at work in human hearts and comprise what, in the Church's long history, is usually called monastic spirituality. 1. Formal prayer is the primary determining influence. In the monastic apostolic lifestyle, the formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, and any other private contemplation resulting from the liturgy, has a clear and decisive primacy in the development of the Whole way of life. These times of formal prayer are the first items placed in the daily schedule. They literally determine the schedule and the contour of the life. As regularly spread throughout the day, this experience of formal prayer clearly determines, not only the schedule, but the very structure of monastic spiritu-ality. The heart of the monastic person is primarily and thoroughly rapt in the contemplation of God. And simply everything reveals this primacy. 2. Order, routine, regularity and schedule are central. Because of the clear priority of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, the monastic life reveals and requires a regularity of order and schedule. Often, only Sundays"and special feasts will vary the fundamental routine of monastic life. An active prejudicefor variety as the spice of life should not lure monastic people away from a profound regularity of life in which the monastic heart is purified and disciplined for docility to the spon-taneity of God's Spirit. The disorder of any inappropriate irregularity is serious enough to trivialize the monastic experience of God. 658 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 3. Being set apart from the world in order to be part of the world. The monastic dynamic always requires an appropriate withdrawal from the world. This being set apart from the world can never become an end in itself, nor an uncaring protection from the world. Should such a lack of concern develop, the monastic life would have lost that apostolic commitment to this world which is essential to all Christian discipleship. But for the monastic heart, it is precisely through being set apart from the world that a care and concern for the world grows and is appropriately expressed. This monastic withdrawal from the world can serve as a reminder for all disciples of Jesus. "If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but the reason that the world hates you is that you do not belong to the world for I chose you out of the world" (Jn 15:19). These words of Jesus profess a type of separation from the world without which serious Christian discipleship can never be possible. The monastic separation from the world-- never meant to be a frightened disinterest, but rather a sharing in God's passionate care for this world--serves as a reminder of Jesus' words for every Christian disciple. This monastic separation from the world is expressed in many different ways. Some monasteries are situated literally out in the middle of nowhere. Others are situated in the midst of an inner city, still crumbling or now being redeveloped. Sometimes the monastic person is set apart from the world in a small, simple apartment-hermitage. Especially in experimentation after Vatican II, monastic women and men have rediscovered that the cloister of the heart contemplatively fascinated in God is the central issue, much more than any grilles and cloistered spaces. And yet, unless there is an appropriate external separation from the world, the monastic heart will be distracted and become trivialized in its simple contemplative focus on God. 4. Stability, solitude and peace figure prominently in the monastic life. From the outset, in discussing the importance of each of these three qual-ities in the monastic life, key distinction must be made between the quality considered as a profound inner reality of heart and as an external expression of that same interior reality. When stability is viewed as a profound, inner quality of heart, it typifies and would be expected of any mature believer-- and not just of the monastic person. Interior stability, as dependability and responsibility before God, always entails the refined sensitivity which dis-tinguishes God's word of true love from the many other seductive words of apparent and fallacious love heard at times within the human heart. This inner stability and refined insight comprise the core of faith maturity and, therefore, would be at the very heart of both monastic and active apostolic lifestyles. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 659 But there is an appropriate external expression of this inner stability of heart that typifies the monastic lifestyle and not the active. Vowed stability in a monastic congregation, though surely a profound reality of heart in all the members, also unites them in this specific place with a communal bond that facilitates their ongoing search together into God. This kind of external stability, while stimulating profound communal experience of God in the monastic life, obviously interferes with the mobility of the active life. To appreciate the necessary role of solitude in the monastic life, the same distinction must be applied. A regular experience of solitude alone with and in God is another sign of every mature believer, whether called to the monas-tic or the active life. Without such experience of God in solitude, we remain superficial and immature, in our experience of life, ourselves and God. One of the dangers that could weaken the Church's ministry today, especially in the active form, is the situation in which active apostles become too busy for regular prayer in solitude--with the result that their faith becomes immature, superficial and indecisive. But for the monastic heart there must be an appropriate external expression and atmosphere of quiet solitude if one is to maintain a live witness within the Church of an inner solitude with God, a nourishment for which all our hearts year9 and are made. In a similar fashion, peace, as a deep inner quality of heart, is Jesus' gift to every serious disciple. Beyond this mature, inner experience of Jesus' peace, the monastic apostolic lifestyle also provides an external expression and atmosphere of peace, without the disruption and distraction of the active lifestyle. This distinction between inner quaiity of heart and external expression is very helpful in describing both the overlapping and the distinctiveness of these two apostolic lifestyles. I will make use of it later in describing the active style of being apostolic. 5. The apostolate of formal prayer is most typical of monastic spirituafity. The formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist and of individual contemplation is the chief and primary apostolate or ministry of the monastic heart. No other secondary ministry should be practiced except insofar as it relates to and does not interfere with the monastic life of con-templation alone with God. To blur or confuse this ministerial primacy of formal prayer could, once again, trivialize the monastic experience of God. The monastic heart always senses a salvific radiation emanating from its contemplative adventure alone in God. 6. Importance of physical presence in the formation of monastic community. Christian community is usually easier to define than to live. Wherever 660 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 it occurs, it is a union of minds and hearts primarily focused by a shared faith vision. Though many other elements, like similar age, training and interests, may facilitate union of minds and hearts, nothing is more important than a genuinely corporate faith vision regularly experienced and appropri-ately expressed. In the monastic style of Christian community, physical pres-ence, often in silence, plays a very important role in developing and maintaining the unity deriving from a corporate faith vision. A physical togetherness in prayer, reading, eating, sleeping and recreating are further aspects of the monastic dynamic at work in human hearts--and they are not unimportant ones in the living of monastic community. The Active Apostolic Dynamic Contrasted with the monastic, the active apostolic lifestyle is rooted in a different dynamic in the heart, and it also takes a different expression. This difference becomes obvious in the first of the six aspects that I will now describe. 1. Ministry is the primary determining influence. Vatican II, when describing this active dynamic in terms of religious life, speaks of communities in which "the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and services.''4 When this active charism is given either to a whole community or to an individual believer, it is ministerial involvement, rather than formal prayer, that determines the contours and the schedule of daily life. This is an important but very subtle point, which requires further eluci-dation, lest it be seriously misunderstood. To give primacy of influence to ministry is not meant to deny the absolute importance of quiet contemplation for the active apostle. Henri Nouwen states clearly the importance of formal prayer for ministry when he says: "If the minister wants to minister 'In the Name' he must live in the Name and speak and act from there.''5 Without mature prayer, mature ministry just is not possible. To deepen their regular contemplative experience is a great challenge today for active apostles, so busy and fatigued with responding to our modern world's needs. Let me be firm and clear in asserting this radical importance of formal prayer for the busy minister. The point to be stressed here, while not denying the importance of regular prayer, concerns the influence that ministry has on the whole makeup of the active life. The legitimate demands of ministry form the schedule of the day. When people enter a new ministry, with the intention of maintaining a past set time for private prayer which now will clearly interfere with availability for the new ministry, this violates the dynamic of the active apostolic charism. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 661 To have a schedule of formal prayer already in place before entering into the new ministerial situation is backwards for active apostles. Rather, they must first insert themselves into the new ministry and get an honest sense of its reasonable demands. Only then can their conviction about regular contemplation determine the specifics of when, where and how long they should pray each day. That there be regular contemplation is beyond doubt, regardless of ministry. But the determination of the specifics of regular contemplation depends upon the demands of the new ministry. For the active apostle, ministry, then, while not a substitute for regular contemplation, is the primary determining influence in this whole way of life. 2. Flexibility for change is central. Because busy ministry and service of others is essential to active spiritu-ality, a regular routine scheduled around formal prayer is not possible. A flexibility of heart and spirit is called for, in order to respond to the challenges and needs of a world so often in great upheaval and unrest. The earlier distinction between a profound reality of the heart and its external expression is important here again. Flexibility of heart is not some-thing that only active apostles know. A profound inner flexibility of spirit makes possible genuine docility to the spontaneity of the Holy Spirit--and is always a sign of spiritual maturity, both for monastic and for active people. Responsible involvement in complicated and unsettled situations, something not usual in monastic life, calls forth in the active apostle a distinctive external expression and practice of this mature flexibility of heart. The struggle and anguish involved in much of our response to Vatican II reveals how hard it is to change a routine and how prone many of us are to find our security in a rather rigid routine rather than in a faithfully loving God. As indicated above I believe that a routine is not only healthy, but necessary for living out the monastic charism. But, while a certain routine is necessary for all human life, the active apostle must always resist the escape into an overly monastic routine and must learn to trust the gift of flexibility that is always part of the active apostolic dynamic in the Church. 3. Ability discerningly to find, be with and serve God in all activity. Someone in a busy, active life can become very scattered and distracted. One's attention almost constantly flits from one thing to another. One's energy and concern are poured out in one situation after another. Drained and running, one loses a sense of focus, of unity and maybe even of funda-mental meaning. As life gets more and more hectic and chaotic, burnout of body and spirit sets in. Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Moments of special religious experience in formal prayer cannot, all by themselves, stem the tide of this heightening discouragement and tension. More than regular formal prayer is needed. Despite a great desire for unity and integration, human consciousness is capable, often without being aware of it, of various compartmentalizations. One of these is the split between formal prayer and the activity of life. In such a split, the surge of religious experience in private prayer ebbs in the face of all the busy activity of the rest of the day. The frantic, frenetic business of the day often calls forth and reveals in the apostle little sense of God. Private prayer is stubbornly main-tained in an attempt to keep religious experience alive. But such an ebb and flow of religious experience actually saps the apostle's energy and finally fails in accomplishing the desired integration in which all the activity of a day contributes to, rather than interferes with, a person's unifying religious experience. The proper balance of regular prayer and discerning involvement in the business of everyday can simplify and purify the focus and commitment of a heart so that the compartmentalized split of human experience into sacred and secular is gradually healed in a unity whereby all human experience bbc0mes religious--and finds God. In my own opinion, this is the greatest challenge still facing active apostolic spirituality. Often, past religious for-mation produced a compartmentalized relationship between prayer and activ-ity. Religious formation, in many ways, is still struggling to help active apostles find the proper interior integration that facilitates, and actually makes possible, the religious experience of finding, being with and serving God in all activity. Active apostles need a reflective sensitivity, in order to recognize the subtle but real difference between a selfish manipulation of others that finds self and a generously humble service of others that finds God. Only a genuine experience of the intimacy of God's love as beyond all other love and inviting a radical abandonment of self in love to God, together with a rigorously careful discernment of inner affective experiences, can make possible a human, loving presence that finds God in all activity and dealings with others. Vatican 11 makes a similar claim when it says that, for com-munities in religious life whose very nature requires apostolic action and services, "their entire apostolic activity should be animated by a religious spirit.''~ 4. Mobility and apostolic availability are key in active spirituality. Because mission and active ministry are so central to the active apostolic dynamic, mobility of body and spirit are important. Any rigidity in a person can interfere with the fruitfulness of this charism. In an active religious corn- Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 663 munity, the members come together precisely in order to be sent out on specific ministries, each of which shares in God's mission of salvation in Jesus. Any stubborn selfishness or immature insecurity will always corrode that mobility for mission which should characterize active spirituality. Apostolic availability is a readiness of spirit born of a freedom radically fascinated with a loving God's faithful commitment to us. Because of the inevitable limitation of human weakness and sinfulness, this freedom never perdures perfectly in a human heart. It must be won and received again and again. But the more this precious freedom grows in a human heart or in a whole congregation the more an availability of spirit allows the person or congregation to be thoroughly committed to a present ministry, but always with a readiness for wherever God's love may lead in the future. 5. The prayer of the apostolate is most typical of active spirituafity. The phrase that typifies monastic spirituality is reversed here. Granting, once again, the absolute value of regular contemplation in any serious spiritual life, the typical and more important prayer of the active apostle is a distinctively prayerful presence in and through all activity. This is related to. the third element above, i.e. the need to find, be with and serve God in all activity. The prayer of the apostolate should not be misunderstood as that claim and practice that many of us struggled with through the 1960s and 1970s: "my work is my prayer." Most of us now know the heresy.of such a claim, even though active apostles who would not want to profess an identification of work and prayer can still easily be pressured into living such a heresy. We have learned again over recent years that for no one does work become prayer, unless that person regularly stops working--and prays. So the prayer of the apostolate does not mean any simpliste identification of work and prayer. Rather the prayer of the apostolate involves two mutual and integral movements. The first is an appropriate, regular involvement in contempla-tion, which gradually spills over and renders pi'ayerful everything the person does, says and is. The second is an involvement in activity which stirs a desire for, and sometimes provides the subject matter of, formal contemplation in private. As one grows faithful and sensitive to these two movements, a pres-ence in all activity develops which is prayerful--a presence which is the Spirit of God praying and which reveals those clear signs of the Spirit mentioned in chapter five of Galatians. ¯ 6. A unity of mind and heart extending far beyond physical presence. Whereas the corporate faith vision of those sharing the monastic charism 664 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 requires much physical presence with one another, the active apostolic dynamic, because its very nature requires apostolic action and services, does not depend as much on the physical presence of the members to each other. It can foster a union of minds and hearts among members missioned all over the world in various ministries. Obviously, this corporate bond is not auto-matic. It is not the effect of any one person's fiat. It cannot be something superficially external. Rather, a unity rooted deeply in the hearts of all mem-bers will always require a profound attitude of heart on the part of each member, a distinctive type of missioning process and the careful practice of certain human, symbolic means. To say that the active charism depends less on the physical presence of the members than the monastic does certainly does not mean that physical presence can be simply disregarded in active communities. It is inhuman to imagine that members of a local live-in community, whatever the size, can develop a union of minds and hearts if they never gather together in quality physical presence. However, without disregarding the need for some such physical presence, we must not conceive the communitarian dimension Of the active charism according to monastic norms. Many active congregations today continue to struggle in local communities with how much physical presence of all members and what quality of presence of each is needed if there is to be a genuine, faith union of minds and hearts. If this struggle is not better resolved soon, increasing numbers of active religious, caught in the tension between involvement in an exciting ministry and the boring frustration of no shared vision in the local community, may well find celibacy too heavy a burden to bear alone. The De-monasticizing of Active Religious Life As religious have seriously responded to Vatican II's invitation to return to "the original inspiration" behind their own institute, a greater realization of the clear distinction between the differing and graced dynamics of the monastic and active has grown among us. In the wake of this growing clarity there also comes the realization that in the past we have not always respected this distinction with enough care. A major part of the renewal of religious life, therefore, has involved the de-monasticizing of institutes which were, in their founding, and which should, with greater fidelity over the years have continued to be, actively apostolic rather than monastic. This de-monasticizing process has not been easy. Mistakes have occurred. At times, inevitably, overreaction has set in. And many individuals have experienced great personal anguish in the midst of the confusion and turmoil of critiquing and of chang-ing, through experiment, revered and long-standing practices. But this process, although most painful, was unavoidable. To avoid it Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 665 would have been as serious a refusal as to violate the reverent d~cility due the Spirit of God who invites us to be faithful to the genuine, graced identity of our religious institute. In the past twenty years much headway has been made in realigning the fundamental conception, formation programs, ministerial practices and daily living of communities according to their rediscovered, original identity. Though the process is surely not finished, we are presently involved, appropriately enough, in a period of careful assessment of the fruits of this renewal process.7 A successful evaluation can help us to sift the precious wheat of fidelity to the essentials of religious life, as incarnated in appropriate contemporary expressions of the original founding charism, from the deceptive (though often attractive!) weeds of contemporary develop-ments that either destroy a necessary continuity of identity or shortsightedly try to defend older forms, which are now, and ought to be, simply dead. Vatican II reminds us of the importance of fidelity to the unique charism and identity of each religious community. "It serves the best interests of the Church for communities to have their own special character and purpose."s In line with this directive Thomas Merton cautions us against confusing the monastic and active dynamic: "The monastic life must not be evaluated in terms of active religious life, and the monastic orders should not be equated with other religious institutes, clerical or otherwise. The monastic community does not exist for the sake of any apostolic or educational work, even as a secondary end. The works of the monk are not justified by their external results but only by their relevance to his monastic life alone with God.''9 In conclusion, let me point to three results of respecting the clear dis-tinction between the active and monastic dynamic. First, we must be careful how we make use of the Liturgy of the Hours. In the monastic community the Liturgy of the Hours is a primary determinant and focus of the whole day, at which the physical presence of all is expected. In the active commu-nity, a regular communal prayer besides th.e Eucharist seems necessary. Some use of the Liturgy of the Hours may serve as an appropriate regular com-munity prayer. On the other hand, some other type of communal prayer may better serve a particular community. If something o.f the Liturgy of the Hours is used, it should not become a primary determinant and focus of schedule, to the detriment of the members' ministerial involvement. So, depending on the size and variety of the local community, the physical presence of all members is neither expected nor possible. However, the active community would be deficient in its unified faith vision if each member did not share the same desire to pray together regularly--which desire would always take expression in physical presence, except for ministerial reasons. But for an active community to use the Liturgy of the Hours in a monastic fashion would be to violate its God-given charism. 666 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Second, members of active communities cannot avoid a natural monas-ticizing tendency as they get older. As the biological breakdown of old age sets in, religious become less and less active, they settle into a much more regularized pattern, and the apostolate of prayer becomes more predominant in their daily lives. If we are careful of certain presuppositions, this natural monasticizing tendency will not necessarily violate the active apostolic nature of a community. But the older members, whose lifestyle is now understand-ably more monastic, must not claim that this monastic lifestyle is the genuine identity of the whole congregation. Another subtle change of attitude could be entailed here. If a section of the motherhouse is located where many of the older, retired sisters are living, then naturally the style and schedule of life for that part of the house will be more monastic--as it should be. However, we must then be careful .that this more monastic schedule and style not be idolized as typical for all other houses of the congregation, an image that motherhouses often in the past have projected. Such a misunderstanding would be a serious interference with the unity and ministerial effectiveness of the whole congregation. In fact, it can be downright demoralizing and dis-torting for younger members. Furthermore, though these older members are much more inactive than earlier in their lives, they must be helped to keep the active zeal and concerns of their hearts alive and peacefully integrated with their bodily inactivity. These older members must also have a live sense of the ministry of old age and retirement. They must be helped to realize how valuable and necessary for the whole congregation's ministerial effectiveness is their own ministry of prayer and sacrifice. So often older religious think they have retired from ministry. I cannot stress enough the need for the elderly, and for everyone, to realize that while the aged and the sick must humbly retire from active involvement they never retire from ministry. The final and most important ministry is dying. If these concerns are not forgotten, then the natural monasticizing tendency of old age 'will not interfere with the active, apostolic nature of a religious community. Third, in the long history of women's religious congregations, for various historical reasons which are beyond my simple point here, the Church has had great difficulty in recognizing the active charism at work in the hearts of various foundresses. Angela Merici, Mary Ward, Marguerite Bourgeoys and Louise de Marillac and their followers are but a very few examples of the suffering this confusion has caused. In some ways the Church still continues to struggle today with this issue of more fully acknowledging and facilitating the active charism within communities of women religious. It is very clear that the Church's welcoming approval of valid contemporary forms of active spirituality among women religious--and without imposing any additional, Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 667 illegitimate, monastic expectations-- will enormously enrich God's mission of justice and love in our world. This article has described two different charisms, two different apostolic lifestyles, the active and the monastic. The Spirit of God has created and kept these two charisms alive in the Church. In a recent talk to the American bishops Michael Buckley, S.J., summarized the treatment of charism in the document "Directives for Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Religious in the Church": "Charism always involves three factors: It is an enabling gift of the Spirit which so conforms the recipients to Christ that they build the Church.''~° Three things, then: a gift of the Spirit, intimacy with Jesus, for the sake of the Church. As we come to appreciate further the active and monastic lifestyles in the Church, it is the hope of this writer that we will not confuse or corrupt these different charisms, but cooperate with what God intends, through them, for the unity of the Church, the holiness of its members and the service of a faith-filled justice in our world. Paul's words to the Corinthians both confirm and stimulate our hope: There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of differ-ent ways in different people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to each person is for a good purpose (1 Co 12:4-7). NOTES ~They Speak By Silence, a Carthusian (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Inc.), p.3. 2One Pace Beyond--The Life of Nano Nagle, M. Raphael Consedine, P.B.V.M., (Moorabbin, Victoria: L.R. McKinnon & Co., 1977), p. 7. 3As a result of their study of the document "Essential Elements in the Church's Teach-ing on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate," Franciscans are investigating and proposing the evangelical life as the best description of their charism. It remains to be seen whether this evangelical life is a third type of spirituality different from what I am calling the monastic and the active, whether it is its own unique blend of the active and monastic, or whether it is a particular version of an active spirituality. 668 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 4Vatican 11, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #8. 5Soul Friend, Kenneth Leech, (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1977), p. viii. 6Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," #8. 7See my two articles "Assessing and Choosing Even as the Journey Continues," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March/April 1984, and "Come Let Us Talk This Over: Issues in Spirituality, 1985," Part 1, 'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July/August 1985, and Part II, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/October 1985. 8Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #2. 9The Monastic Journey, T. Merton, (New York: Image, 1978), p. 213. ~°See "The Charism and Identity of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/ October 1985, p. 661. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and II Address: by Patricia Spillane, M.S. C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Canonical Considerations of Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Sister McDonough is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Canon Law at The Catholic University of America (Washington, DC 20064). This article is based on a presen-tation she made to the LCWR convention in New Orleans last September. In the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people suspect canon law has never been freed--canonical discipline was known as "practical theo-logy." That is, it was not a separate science as it is today, with specialized formulators, practitioners, codifiers and interpreters. What people did on a regular basis became operative norms of action. By authoritative interven-tion or by custom these operative norms of action eventually became recog-nized as laws in the technical sense of the Aristotelian/Thomistic construct, that is: An ordinance of reason formulated and promulgated by one charged with care of the common good. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and each person's freedom of choice were paramount. Also in the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people like-wise suspect religious life has never been freed--the ancient monastic and recently discovered mendicant ideas of religious life held sway. By that time the former was already highly clericalized, feudally land-based, rather well-off, and subject to frequent reforms. The latter was a new notion capitalizing on mobility, the development of towns, the discovery of trade, the rise of universities, and renewed lay piety. It, too, soon became rather clericalized; comfortably land-based, economically well-off, and in need of frequent reforms. 669 670 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Nearly three centuries later at the time of Trentmfrom the grips of which most people are quite certain canon law and religious life have not been freed--canonical science was heavily influenced by nominalism, voluntarism, legalism and emerging casuistry. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and one's freedom of choice were no longer paramount. The then recognized forms of religious life were suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dis-pensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, all of society was in flux: notions of political power, emerging nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of exploration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures all experienced incredible upheavals and alterations. And in the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, the desperately needed "new idea" of apostolic religious life was conceived by Angela Merici, Ignatius Loyola, Mary Ward, Louise de Marillac and Jane de Chantal. These charismatic individuals were fol-lowed in a few centuries by Catherine McAuley and many others. Perhaps it was a failure of imagination on the part of the ecclesiastical establishment that perpetuated the ancient, cloistered, monastic model in theological reasoning and canonical practice for women religious. But reli-gious life itself simply continued to develop. Eighty percent of the religious groups ever founded became established between Trent and the twentieth century, and non-cloistered, non-solemnly vowed, apostolic religious life for women was finally universally recognized, but not until 1900. Canon law-- retaining some remnant of its medieval ',practical theology" identity--could not ignore the reality of the "new idea" in religious life forever, although recognition came rather slowly by our standards. Relating to the Present But what precisely is the connection of all this with the topic at hand, namely "Canonical Considerations of Self-Determination, Just Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure"? The connection is this: At the moment recog-nized forms of religious life are suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dispensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, at the present time all of society is in flux: notions of political power, emerg-ing nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of explo- Canonical Considerations / (171 ration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures are all experiencing incredible upheavals and alterations. We are clearly in a post-conciliar era incredibly comparable to the late Middle Ages and to post-Tridentine times. In the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, religious life is again in need--perhaps desperately in need--of yet another "new idea." But those of us who are currently members of established communities, more than likely, are not the bearers of this desperately "new idea." At best we are perhaps--or certainly have the opportunity to be--artisans of a transition. And with proper understand-ing and use, this writer contends that canon law can be a great aid in this transition. Fostering a Transition To illustrate the transitional role of contemporary religious institutes, let us for a moment take the medieval methodological approach of canon law as "practical theology" and look at what current "theology in practice" in the 1983 code suggests about this life we call "religious." To begin, the new law talks about life: an identifiable form of life, a substantive form of life, a stable form of life. It speaks of a life clearly understood and freely chosen: a life of following Christ, a life of total dedication to God. It con-siders this life a particular state in the Church undertaken by profession of the evangelical counsels and lived in accord with the supreme law of the Gospel as expressed in the proper law of one's institute. It is a life involving some fixed organizational structures, certain obligations and rights, various spiritual exercises, some restrictions on personal and apostolic activities, numerous clear procedures for admission and departure, and a public con-nection to the local and universal Church. From the point of view of "practical theology" the new code requires proper law specification in seventy-four out of the one hundred fifty-three canons that apply to religious institutes. In other words, in nearly half of the canons concerning religious, the institute itself must or may determine specific elements of the life of its members, both individually and collectively. Thus, widespread distinctions in practice are not excluded by the universal law requirements for common life, identifiable superiors, necessary forma-tion, apostolic limitations, departure procedures, and the like. The prin-ciple of subsidiarity is canonically incorporated in the new code, and opportunities for practical variations are amply provided. How well or to what extent these are utilized depends entirely on one's proper law. Proper-law revision, or the writing of constitutions, as experienced during the last two decades in the life of religious institutes has been no easy task, however. In some instances the process was carried out in an ambience of 672 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 internal polarization that fomented contentions among members as each retreated to his or her corner courageously defending the truth for the sake of God. In other instances the formulation of an institute's truly representa-tive legislation was complicated by a certain lack of contemporaneity in institutional and hierarchical Church structures themselves. Nevertheless, these difficulties do not negate the fact that it is precisely the revision of proper-law wherein lies the opportunity for institutes to incorporate new ideas and new experiences of religious life. Good proper-law revision allows them to accomplish this without having to shoulder the burden of being the initiators or receivers of the desperately needed "new idea" mentioned above. Moreover, incorporating new ideas and experiences in proper-law to the greatest extent possible now, can help pave the way for later canonical acceptance of other, newer ideas and experiences, however long that may take. Institutionalizing Charisms Backtracking momentarily before going on, let us note that the phrase "new idea" is entirely inadequate. Ideas have consequences, but they are not the only realities that have consequences. And religious life is never primarily or merely an idea, an intellectual endeavor. It is a gift of the Spirit to, in, and through the Church. Charisms are like seeds planted in particularly fertile soil in a specific historical context. They are shaped and reshaped by the exigencies of history, by the fortunes and misfortunes of the passage of time. They are nourished and grow and evolve in the context of everyday life with everyday people--interspersed here and there by those we happily refer to as "saints" (while being equally happy we never had to live with them). Charisms are never captured in constitutions or any collection of fundamental and secondary documents. Charisms live in people or they do not live at all. Legal norms, on the other hand, are externally formulated and externally measurable. They can never totally express internal motivation. Thus, the basic import of any constitutions and any collection of fundamental and secondary documents is not merely their juridical perspective and canoni-cal determination. The legal heritage of an institute, capturing as best it can the articulated charism, is always conditioned by the emerging values of real life as experienced by those inspired to embrace the charism. People are, you see, an undeniably important element of the canonical system. On another level, the institutional Church, which in some form or another has been with us for nearly two millennia, must itself occasionally reach out and embrace a genuinely new charism. In such instances the ecclesial structure must fracture its preset boundaries, redefine its established cate-gories, and reorient its institutional life in order to incorporate, that is, take Canonical Considerations / 673 into its structures, a new breath of the Spirit. This reaching out and embracing a charism has probably happened only three times in Church history: for Benedictine monasticism, medieval mendicancy, and post-reformation apostolic orders. In each instance, institutional embracing of the new charism occurred quite slowly, required numerous adjustments and experienced set-backs over the years. The time may very well be ripe for another institutional embracing of truly new charisms of consecrated life in the Church. If so, this too will occur slowly, require adjustments, and experience setbacks. And, if history can offer us any objective insights regarding the process and its effects, one might be cautioned to note that once the institutional Church reaches out and embraces a genuinely new charism, the rest of the story is that of the charism's institutionalization. It is simply a matter of time and human nature: initial ideals are eventually dimmed or forgotten; initial fervor is slowly chilled or lost; initial Gospel goals are gradually subordinated to preservation of the new institution. Suffice it to say that the readers of this article are, more likely than not, part of already established, already institutionalized charisms and, as such, are not the first wave of any new movement in religious life. Limiting Self-Determination and Autonomy The parameters of ecclesial embrace and the exigencies of historical evolu-tion are the primary limiting factors in the "self-determination"aspect of any religious founder or foundress, of any religious institute. Self-determina-tion is never absolute. It has always been far from so for religious life, and still is. But this is also the case, for example, regarding members of the Christian faithful in general. In the new code all Christians are entitled to form associations (c. 215). All Christians should lead holy lives and promote the building up of the Church (c. 210). All Christians have the right and duty to work towards announcing the Gospel of :salvation (c. 211) and to undertake apostolic activi-ties (c. 216). But no Christians are obliged in any way to seek official recog-nition for these :activities in 'any canonical form unless they choose to do them in the name of the Church '(c.301,). And no Christian is obliged in any way to choose any form of consecrated life (c. 573 §2). Yet the self-determination of any Christian (which is never absolute to begin with) is quite circumscribed and channeled--limited, if you will--by either of the above choices once made. As individuals we cannot be both teachers and nurses at the same time. As communities we cannot be both monastic and apostolic at the same time. As institutes we cannot be both Ursuline and Franciscan at the same time. Thus, in an era that prefers to deal with "both/and," we are sometimes faced with an inevitable "either/or" because 674 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 no self-determination is absolute. Similarly the "just autonomy" of any institute is always and only to be considered within the context of ecclesial embrace and historical evolu-tion. Philosophically speaking, autonomy refers to freedom from external control and censure. It guarantees room for action and reflection without disruption, but it includes necessary coordination in reference to the whole. Nevertheless, any auto nomos, from the Greek to be self-normed, is funda-mentally limited by creation and redemption: by our realistic situation of being creatures in an ambience of and affected by evil. As individuals we have from the start only limited independence that remains always relative: so, too, with religious institutes in the Church. Appreciating the Role of Obligation Here it may be important to digress somewhat to consider the bias that supports the current canonical system. It is a philosophical/theological con-struct characterized by valuing status, common good and obligation. This is so in contrast to more recent philosophical/theological constructs character-ized by valuing human dignity, individual advantage and personal rights. Neither need be mutually exclusive of, or in direct contradiction to, the other. But both have often appeared so. Even with the advances of the last few centuries and the affirmations of recent popes and the articulations of Vatican Council II, the former con-struct is the one that clearly underlies the new law. In the new code, the communal context of "status" constantly qualifies any affirmations of equality in dignity. In it, the common good--perceived as a set of conditions enabling the attainment of reasonable objectives for the sake of which individuals have decided to collaborate--is clearly prior to independent, indi-vidual advantage. In it, rights are subordinate to and conditioned upon duties intrinsic to the Gospel and to our social nature. In it, the protection of rights is for the sake of fuller participation in one's evangelical and social obliga-tions. And in it, patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images still predominate. But what of the alternative constructs? What of, for example, the philosophical and theological mind-set that emerges from the social contract and human rights theories of Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau? These are to a great extent the basis of our constitutional republic and the foundation of American civil law and jurisprudence. Prescinding from their equally patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images, note that social-contract and human-rights theories appear to posit the pristine existence of free, independent but highly vulnerable individuals willing to ransom a portion of personal autonomy for collective security. Rights are the "playing Canonical Considerations / 675 cards" or the "poker chips" of the barter: some cannot be relinquished (these are termed "inalienable"); others can be relinquished but can also be recalled (in breach of contract). It may appear, at times, that the institu-tional Church would be much better off with a healthy dose of American civil liberties incorporated into its legal system: with a civil rights basis; with non-hierarchical checks and balances; with protection by administrative pro-cedures; with guarantees of prior notification, due process, provision for counsel, and the like. And, for the most part, this is probably not only an accurate observation but also a viable possibility and partial reality. Witness, for instance, the numerous appeals boards and administrative tribunals that already exist in many religious institutes and dioceses to complement the heavily hierarchical Church system. Indeed, it is clear that these two systems are not, and need not be considered, contradictory or mutually exclusive. Nevertheless, there is a significant difference between the Medieval and Enlightenment mind-sets, and the difference is crucial for ecclesiastical law and especially for religious institutes. Social-contract and human-rights con-structs, while very affirming of life and dignity in theory, are singularly inept at guaranteeing life and dignity to the individual from the community in practice. This is because one finds in them no legal locus of obligation. They are based, if you will, on the implicit myth that somewhere there exists a Utopian world of perfectly free humans who have no alienated or usurped rights and who experience no unresolved conflicts, individually or collectively. Reality is not quite so Utopian. So, for example, in the American social-contract/ human-rights systems, suppose you are .walking over a bridge beneath which there is someone in the water drowning. Note that, even though the drowning person has affirmed rights to life, education, suitable housing, equal-opportunity employment, a just wage, and more, there is absolutely no civil-law focus of obligation for anyone to come to his or her aid. This is not to say there is no moral obligati?n to come tothe person's aid, but there is no legal one. In fact, the legal system--because of numerous possibilities for litigation--at times seems even to militate against fulfillment of one's moral obligations in such situations. And note that we are not discussing here the medical/moral/legal subtleties of prenatal life or of the terminally ill. We simply have a recognizably fully alive human being with numerous affirmed rights who ends up quite dead because of lack of legal obligation in the system itself. In sharp contrast, the Aristotelian/Thomistic system of law, and even further back the Judaic/Talmudic system of law, are based primarily on obligations: common, mutual, reciprocal obligations that arise from a cor-porate experience. The Hebrew, the Christian, the religious is chosen-- passive voice--be it at Sinai, through the Last Supper, or by a call to conse- 676 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 crated life. We are chosen. This is not to suggest that we, therefore, have no responsibilities; but rather, to highlight the fact that the initiative is God's. Only the response is ours. Thus it is the beginning of our system's notion of legal obligation that becomes the crucial difference in the end.~ We do not begin by bartering away any pristine "rights." We receive a gift, with consequences. The legal constructs of our lives relate to divine events in and through which everything necessary for the eternal salvation of everyone for all ages has somehow already been given, in some sense even commanded. They are the same divine events in and through which we have freely assumed personal perpetual obligations. And they provide for an amazing absence of Utopian myths. For there is in salvation history ample evidence of human failure, outright betrayal, personal and collective infidelity, repeated digressions, and an uncanny unwillingness to live up to our part of the bargain. In contrast, on the part of God, there is ample evidence of long-suffering patience, relentless forgiveness and unswerving fidelity to the promise of mercy. Moreover, if we do not read the Gospel too selectively, even after having done everything expected, you and I have no basic right or even a distant claim to any reward whatsoever, although we are assured in the end of attaining the greatest possible goal. Situating Obligation in Hierarchical Structures The importance of proper law--the law that obtains for one's own insti-tute- has already been mentioned in regard to fostering the current transition in the paradigms of religious life. Proper law is also crucial to any element of self-determination and just autonomy within the Church's hierarchical structure. And the central element of ecclesiastical proper law, as well as ecclesiastical universal law, is the locus of incumbent obligation. This is what gives our laws content and objectivity for assuring the protection of values and the exercise of rights, even if these values and rights are not directly named as such. In fact, whether or not the values and rights are actually named in the law is of minimal importance. Perhaps at this point an example is in order. There is an ancient principle of Roman Law which states: Where there is a right, there is a remedy (Ubi ius, ibi remedium). It is in the logical contrapositive that we more readily recognize the truth of the principle, namely: If there is no remedy to be found for violation of an affirmed right, there is really no right at all. With this in mind, let us proceed to the example. It is an example not taken from ttie~ law for religious so that the content will not distract from the point intend~dl. Chnon 22'1! §'2',of~ the 1983 code states: If the Christian faithful are sum- Canonical Considerations / 677 moned to judgment by c6mpetent authority, they have the right to be judged in accord with the prescriptions of law applied with equity. It sounds wonder-ful. But what is there to guarantee that this will, indeed, be the case? The answer: incumbent obligations and opportunities to insist on their fulfill-ment as provided in the canons on judicial procedures. °The affirmed right of c. 221 §2 can be vindicated because all tribunal personnel must take an oath that they will fulfill their functions properly and faithfully (c. 1454). All tribunal personnel must disqualify themselves from involvement in cases concerning: (1) persons with whom they have a first-cousin or closer relationship, (2) persons for whom they are guardians or trustees~ (3) persons with whom they have a close friendship or for whom they feel a great animosity, as well as (4) those instances in which they desire to make a profit or avoid some loss (c. 1448). And if the tribunal personnel do not disqualify themselves, the parties in the case can lodge an objection (c. 1229) to which the court must attend before the trial can continue (c. 1451). All tribunal personnel are forbidden to accept any gifts whatsoever for the performance of their duties (c. 1456). And any tribunal personnel are subject to penalties, including loss of office, if they refuse to deal with a case for which they are competent, or attempt to deal with a case for which they are not competent, or violate the law of secrecy, or inflict damage on the parties out of malice or serious negligence (c. 1457). In other words, these procedural canons--specifying as they do the legal locus of obligations and providing the opportunity to insist that the obliga-tions be fulfilled--are really what give canonical force to c. 221 §2. But the point is this: These canons, albeit with different numbers, were also in the former code. The affirmation of current c. 221 §2 was not. How much this newly affirmed "right" would mean without these related obligations is questionable, for indeed: If there is no remedy, there is really no right. And how much this newly incorporated right actually adds to the related, already long-standing procedures still remains to be seen. All the foregoing in norway intends to ignore the fact that. even in the best of legal systems incumbent obligations can upon occasion be observed primarily in the breach. The intention is, rather, to provide a clear under-standing of the importance of obligations in the Church's legal system in order to investigate more meaningfully the numerous obligations contained in the canons concerning religious institutes. Religious Institutes and Obligations To begin our discussion, as well as to illustrate the complexity of the: interrelationships among canons, let us consider thosecanons contaii~ed under the title "Obligations and Rights of Institutes and of their Members,." cc. 678 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 662-672. As often as one might comb the (official Latin) text of the canons, there is not one strict right (ius) to be found. But at this point in the presenta-tion, such a discovery should be no great surprise: It is the locus of incumbent obligation, not the affirmation of rights, that is the substantive base for our legal system. Moreover, listed in these canons there are numerous obliga-tions from which it is clear that what other legal systems call "rights" will be respected even though not mentioned by name. To pursue the practical content of obligations/rights in the code as related to self-determination, just autonomy and hierarchical structure, we will isolate one of the canons in this section and investigate its canonical consequences. Perhaps the most important obligation listed in this set of canons is that of c~ 670: Each institute must (debet) supply for its members all those things necessary for attaining the end of their vocation. The debet is canonically preceptive language. The subject, object, and matter of the obligation are, respectively, the institute, its members, and necessities. Proper law should certainly address itself to the objective meaning of "necessities," and the meaning should have some reference to what is justly judged so in an equit-able manner by competent authority within the norms, structures, and resources of a particular institute. There is some problem, to be sure, with relating mandated necessities to the end of one's vocation when that end ultimately transcends temporal realities and, thus, is effectively precluded from the possibility of practical evaluation. But consequences of the mandate in c. 670 are extensive and have already been addressed by canonists.2 At the very least, this obligation on the part of institutes is interpreted as requiring those in positions, of government to provide for, and as giving members a corresponding right to: (1) sound, complete, approved proper law, (2) structural provision for general chapters, superiors and councils, (3) systematic formation, (4) stable community life, (5) suitable options for apostolic action or internal work in accord with the institute's mission, and (6) appropriate material goods and .opportunities for ongoing health care, formation, work and renewal. Note that none of the mutual obligations/rights in this list are meaningful except as connected to a coherent legal system that can guarantee their fulfill-ment. And recall that in Church law the locus of incumbent obligation is what provides objective content and procedural safeguards for affirmed or unaffirmed rights. It is the locus of incumbent obligation that is the basis for whatever down-ward or lateral accountability might exist in our hierarchical system, which Canonical Considerations / 679 operates primarily on the intrinsic principle of upward accountability. That is, in fulfilling well the obligations it has towards its members (i.e., its down-ward accountability), any institute is also more than likely fulfilling its obliga-tions towards the other elements of the hierarchical structure (i.e., its lateral and upward accountability). Simply put, an institute cares for downward accountability by attending to the legal obligations it has towards its members. It does this by providing for at least the six categories mentioned as flowing from the requirement of c. 670. But in so doing the institute is not only protecting the rights of individual members. It is also establishing itself on a sound operational basis for relating to equivalent juridic persons, such as other religious institutes, in lateral accountability. And it is likewise con-tributing to its own just autonomy in the upward accountability of the insti-tute to higher authorities in the hierarchical structure. Thus, all of the mutual obligations/rights that derive from c. 670 are directly or indirectly related to the question of an institute's existence and just autonomy. But the motive for action and the locus of accountability in c. 670-- fulfilling obligations toward members--shift the focus for the institute from that of accepting the collective imposition of alien restrictions to that of guaranteeing the possible pursuance of someone's response to having been chosen. It is possible to approach this accountability from an entirely different perspective, namely: from the recog-nition of just autonomy for religious institutes in c. 586. Indeed, the result of beginning with c. 586 might even be somewhat similar, as will be seen in the next section. Yet the basis for action in the former approach is probably more canonically sound. Religious Institutes and Just Autonomy Canon 586 states that it belongs to local ordinaries to preserve and protect (servare ac tueri) the autonomy of each institute. In the same canon "just autonomy of life, especially of government" is recognized by universal law. The canon goes on to describe this "just autonomy" as that by which insti-tutes enjoy (gaudeant) their own discipline and have the power to pre~serve (servare valeant) their patrimony3 intact. The patrimony of an institute of consecrated life is described in c. 578 as the intention and purpose of the founders/foundresses, sanctioned by competent ecclesiastical authority, con-cerning the nature, end, spirit and character of the institute as well as its sound traditions. The canon adds that this patrimony is to be faithfully preserved (servanda est) by all. Elsewhere, in c. 631 § 1, the general chapter is given special responsibility both to protect (tueri) the institute's patrimony as described in c. 587 and to promote its appropriate renewal (accommodatam renovationem). Still elsewhere in c. 587 §1, institutes must (debent) incor-porate into their constitutions .whatever is established regarding their 680 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 patrimony in order to faithfully protect (ad. fide#us tuendam) the voca-tion and identity of their instutute. Another set of canons is also pertinent to the investigation at hand: cc. 675 §1, 611 #2, 677 §1, and 671. The first states that in apostolic institutes apostolic action is part of their very nature (ipsam eorundem naturam). The second states that a bishop's consent for canonical erection of a religious house includes the right (ius) to exercise the works proper to the institute according to the norm of law and within any restrictions contained in the consent. The third states that superiors and members of institutes should faithfully retain (fide#ter retineanO and prudently accommodate (prudenter accommodenO the mission and works of their institute. And the fourth states that members may not undertake pgsitions outside of those proper to the institute,without the permission of legitimate superiors. Both the language and the interplay of all these canons are significant. The patrimony of any institute, or, if you will, the meaningful heritage or expres-sion of its charism, is somehow to be contained in its proper law. Note that this is the same sound, complete, approved proper law to which membe~-s have a right by reason of the obligation in c. 670. And this patrimony is to be preserved by all--an unqualified and inclusive all--according to c. 578. Con-stitutions (c. 587), general chapters (c. 631), and local ordinaries (c. 586) are each required (using some form of the same Latin verb, tueor) to protect the institute's patrimony. Chapters have the responsibility to renew it (c. 631), while superiors and members have the ability to retain and accommodate certain aspects of it (c. 677). Now for the sake of example, let us suppose that an institute has been founded whose nature is apostolic, whose purpose is to practice the corporal works of mercy, whose spirit is non-monastic, and whose character, because of its purpose, is for the most part one of commitment to individual rather than to collective apostolates. Let us also suppose that the instutute is of pontifical right, that it has three canonically erected houses in three dioceses, and that its members are present in seven other dioceses in which the institute has n6 canonically erected houses. Finally, let us suppose that a member of this institute, with appropriate permission from internal authorities and fulfilling the norms of universal and proper law, is exercising an apostolate which the diocesan bishop does not wish this person to exercise in the diocese entrusted to his care. The stage is set, is it not, for the play of tensions commonly experienced between just autonomy and hierarchical structure? Without being facetious, let me suggest further that the script for this act of the play commonly has the religious entering stage left, the bishop entering stage right, and all defini-tive action coming Deus ex machina from above. The entire performance Canonical Considerations / 681 is usually viewed only through the opera glasses of a communications media well known for its ability to distort the factual while filling lacunae with unfounded conjecture. When the curtain falls, there are inevitable winners and losers, but who belongs to which category most often depends on where you were seated--center orchestra, third balcony, backstage, or in the wings. And usually the real issues have neither been well addressed nor even partially solved, while genuine Christian values, not to mention Christian people, have more than likely been forgotten or neglected or badly battered during the performance. As a canonist, this writer holds there are viable alternatives to the above scenario. For, if law does nothing else for us in the Church, it ought to at least be able to function as the impartial arbiter in cases of conflict. How well it can do this for cases such as the above, however, depends on how clearly and thoroughly obligations are both delineated in proper law and fulfilled by those responsible for them. But, to return to the case and the question at hand: Can the bishop prohibit the religious from exercising the apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? If you view it from the per-spective of the religious--to use familiar phraseologywthe "bad news" is that he probably can, because ultimately all religious are subject to the power of the bishop in apostolic works (c. 678 §1). The "good news" is that such a prohibition would be very difficult in some circumstances. Needless to say, if you are looking at this case from the vantage point of the bishop, the content of the answer is exactly the same: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult. The law, you see, is rather objective and can be an impartial arbiter in such matters, even though the "goodness" or "badness", attributed to the content would probably be reversed (and logically so) in the judgment of the bishop. Why is it probably possible but possibly very difficult for the bishop to forbid the religious from exercising an apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? The answer, to be canonically sound, requires a careful investi-gation of the canons previously mentioned. If the institute is an apostolic one, then apostolic works are part of its nature by law (c. 675). The nature of an institute as sanctioned by ecclesiastical authority is part of its patri-mony to be preserved°by all (c. 578) and contained in its constitutions (c. 587). The power to preserve this patrimony is part of an institute's legally recognized just autonomy of life, and local ordinaries are to preserve and protect this autonomy (c. 586). Regarding just autonomy of life, on the one hand, it cannot be restricted merely to internal matters or only to government. If autonomy is restricted to internal matters, then the understanding of religious life under universal law would be a dichotomized, compartmentalized one. The code takes great 682 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 pains to indicate that this is clearly not the case, and especially for the apostolic activity of apostolic institutes (cc. 662, 673, 675). Furthermore, if autonomy is restricted to the institute's internal government, then the just autonomy "especially of government" recognized in c. 586 is a meaningless phrase even canonically. On the other hand, if any apostolate is fundamental to an institute and if any autonomy in regard to this apostolate is to be recognized, then the apostolate must be clearly articulated in the institute's constitutions. If it is clearly articulated in the constitutions, and if the institute has a canon-cially erected house in the diocese, then this includes a strict right (ius) to exercise proper-law apostolate(s) of the institute from this house (c. 611 #2). Note, however, that while the institute has this right, each and every member of the institute is not necessarily free to exercise the right. Canonists do agree that, in granting consent for a religious house, a diocesan bishop can restrict some of the institute's activities for all of the members or all of the institute's activities for some of the members. But they also agree that he cannot restrict all of the institute's activities for all of the members. If he judges this extreme restriction necessary, he simply ought not to grant consent for establishing the house. Thus, in response to the case, if: - there is a constitutionally established apostolate - exercised by a member of the institute -~with proper internal permissions ~ according to universal law (i.e., legally) -. from a canonically established house -to which no general or specific apostolic restrictions have been attached, it would be very difficult for the bishop to prevent the religious from continuing the apostolic activity. The prohibition would not be impossible, however, because it is provided by c. 679, that if: - the bishop judges there is a most grave cause - after having referred the matter to the major superior - and if the major superior does not take appropriate action - the bishop can prohibit the religious from remaining in the diocese. But this action constitutes a penalty (c. 1327 §1) which means that -the procedure for application of penalties is to be followed (cc. 1341-1353) - no steps may be dispensed with (c. 87) 7 all wording must be interpreted strictly (c. 18) - the constitutions of the institute may not be violated (c. 1327 §1) and - the bishop must immediately inform the Holy See of his action (c. 679). Canonical Considerations / 683 Whence, the answer given above must contain an important qualification: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult only if the initial legal obligations regarding apostolate, houses and constitutions have been fulfilled by the institute to which the member belongs. But such is not usually the case, is it? For the most part situations arise in which it is clear that one or many of the above legal obligations have not been fulfilled and, consequently, the rights involved are not well protected. It often happens that the institute has no canonically erected house in the diocese. Then there is simply no right for the institute or any of its member to exercise any apostolate there. If they do so, they do so at the good will of the bishop who can subsequently forbid what he has previously permitted. The written agreements between diocesan bishops and competent superiors, which are now required by c. 681 when entrusting works to religious, might possibly give the religious a cause for civil-law action in the case of a breach of contract, but this could only occur if the agreements were poorly composed canonically in the first place. One might add that adhering to the require-ment for these written agreements, which are supposed to include the type of work involved, could possibly identify potential conflicts such as the above case in their incipient stages. It also often happens that a particular activity exercised by a religious is not mentioned--or at least not referred to in a specific enough manner--to definitively include it in the constitutionally approved elements of the insi-tute's apostolate. The competent internal authority by making a practical interpretation in the course of good government may judge that this specific activity is included within the constitutionally approved elements of its aposto-late. But if this practical interpretation is challenged and recourse is had to the competent external authority, the interpretation of the authority who approved the constitutions in the first place is the one that prevails. Another common occurrence is practical accommodation of an institute's mission and apostolic works by the superiors and members in accord with c. 677. An institute may adapt its apostolate from educating orphans, for instance, to educating Blacks or Hispanics. Or, again, an institute may relin-quish nursing in hospitals in order to serve in home-nursing ministries. Some-times these accommodations are not subsequently or accurately incorporated into one's constitutions by a general chapter. But legal affirmation of such adjustments is both the obligation and prerogative of general chapters accord-ing to c. 631. If general chapters do not fulfill their obligations by providing an adequate update of an institute's proper law, the "good news" and "bad news" for the religious will be rendered as mentioned above. Three other forms of apostolic accommodation are also common and can be far more problematic, namely: 684 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 (1) defining the institute's mission and apostolate in so generic a manner that almost any apostolic activity can be included in them, (2) including in the institute's mission and apostolate some activities that appear to be only indirectly connected with its patrimony, and (3) including in the institute's mission and apostolate those activities which relate closely to those prohibited for religious in universal law. It would be unrealistic--if not grandiose--to attempt a treatment here of the specifics of each of these instances, but all three can certainly be recog-nized as occasions for another play of tensions between just autonomy and hierarchical structure. In the process of approval of constitutions, competent ecclesiastical authorities often perceive these instances as fostering generic vagueness or minute inclusiveness or institutional challenges: Their response is usually to request or to mandate adjustments in wording and/or content. This is often viewed by the institutes both as a violation of their just auto-nomy and as a negation of their renewal experiences. There is no doubt that the attitudes of those involved in the dialogues concerning constitutional revision are crucial to the results. In the first case just suggested, there can be--but need not be--a real danger of dissipating an institute's resources by too extensive a diversification within a generic category, such as education or health care or social justice. In the second, there can be, but need not be, a noble attempt to "legitimize" the activity of every member, however diversified, by incorporating it by name into the institute,s proper law. In the third, there can be, but need not be, a genuine and necessary prophetic challenge to the gradually institutionalized: restrictions on Gospel imperatives. Whether competent authorities and reli-gious institutes approach these and similar situations from a stance of polari-zation and confrontation or from a stance of pluralism and constructive compromise alters the "flashpoint" of the matter involved. A "flashpoint" is the degree of flammability of combustible materials. Most readers will probably be aware that there have been many tenuous "flashpoints" approached and passed by the interaction of hierarchy and religious--as well as among religious themselves--throughout history. Such opposition and conflict, indeed, utter conflagrations at times, have been regrettable and are certainly not to be excused.4 But in the interaction of religious charism and ecclesial institution they will always be potentially present. Suggestions are sometimes made that religious institutes experiencing great charism/hierarchical tensions might opt for what is referred to as "non-canonical" status. Legally speaking "non-canonical" is a misnomer as well as an almost impossible option. Religious institutes are by law public juridic persons (c. 634, 116 §2). Canonical Considerations / 685 This means they automatically have a "canonical status" which can also be described as legal standing or public authentication within the ecclesial structure. This status is understood to guarantee the soundness of the insti-tute's charism and traditions, to empower the duly elected officers of the institute forgoverning, and to confer a mandate on the institute (and its members) for apostolic activities. It is quite clear in Church law that only the appropriate ecclesiastical authorities--namely, Diocesan ]~ishops or the Apostolic See--can erect religious institutes (cc. 576, 578-579, 589), can approve and accept the charisms of founders and foundresses (c. 578), and can officially interpret and moderate the practice of the evangelical counsels (c. 576). Any public juridic person in the Church is by law a "perpetual" entity and can be legitimately extinguished only by competent authority (c. 120 §1). The Apostolic See alone is able to suppress an institute of consecrated life once it has been canonically erected (c. 584). On the occasion of such sup-pression, the disposition of the goods of the institute, which are by law "ecclesiastical goods" (c. 1257), belongs to the Apostolic See (c. 584) unless the approved statutes of the public juridic person (i.e., the institute's proper law) provide otherwise (c. 123). Thus, the material possessions of any religious institute, as well as the final decisions regarding what is to be done with them, do not belong ultimately to the institute or to its members but to the institutional Church. Moreover, religious institutes are "collegial" public juridic persons (c. 115 §2) andas such continue to exist (unless suppressed) as long as there is one surviving member, upon whom all the rights and obliga-tions of the institute devolve (c. 120 §2). For two major reasons, therefore, it is not legally realistic for a religious institute as such to become "non-canonical" in response to the tensions experienced in the interplay of the institute's charism and hierarchical struc-tures: (1) suppression of a religious institute is difficult to accomplish and (2) truly non-canonical status is almost impossible to find. First, an institute does not have the authority to suppress itself; and it is rare that all members of an institute might opt for requesting suppression by the Apostolic See. If such were the case., however, the juridic person could totally cease to exist. But if even a few chose to remain and were allowed to do so, these few would then enjoy all the rights and assume all the obligations of the still existing original religious institute. The ecclesiastical goods of the institute would also be subject to the care and control of the remaining members according to Church law? In other words, the mem-bers of any religious institute cannot simply decide to self-destruct the juridic person and head off into the sunset, each fortified with his or her own "piece 686 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 of the (institutional) rock." Second, even if an institute were sup

Issue 58.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1999. ; f'o r reli i , C~stian Heritages and Contempora~ Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER1999 ¯ VOLUME58 ~°~NUMBER5 Review for Religious is a forum for shared r(flection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. Tbe articles in tbe journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or ~ometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published hi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back c~)ver for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER'1999 ¯ VOLUME58 ¯ NUMBER5 contents 454 perspectives The Self in Postmodern Thought: A Carmelite Response Vilma Seelaus OCD places the biblical God-related understanding of the. self, on which the Carmelite tradition rests, in conversation with the postmodern self. 470 The "World" from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II Frederick E. Crowe SJ examines some major transitions in the Christian attitude toward the world, especially as a new context for the meaning of consecrated life. 490 brothers "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother": Being and Doing Brotherhood Joel Giallanza CSC reflects on the very identity of the religious vocation of "brother" as providing both brothers themselves and the church with a rich and prophetic spirituality. Religious Brothers: One Vocation Director's Perspective Paul Bednarczyk CSC shares his reflections on why fewer people are choosing to be brothers and on some possible countermeasures. Review for Religious 5OO journeying On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming Avis Clendenen brings together personal experience and psychological and theological insight in addressing the reality of making and breaking commitments. 515 Charism and Membership: Surpassing the Institutional Limits of Religious Life Deborah M. Cerullo SSND proposes that emphasis on becoming grounded in the charism through a common novitiate experience would create a better synthesis of diverse ways of being members. 524 associates Identity, Purpose, Organization: Ongoing Associate Programs Rose McDermott SSJ presents a brief historical overview of associates and associations joined to religious institutes, reviews church legislation, and then raises issues about sound future development. 537 Similarity and Uniqueness in the Association Experience: Theological Reflection Roberta Archibald SSJ, Joanne Bauer SBS, Mary Mester RSM, and Jean Ustasiewski OSF share their experience of using theological reflection in a regional gathering of associates and sisters. departments 452 Prisms 546 Canonical Counsel: Impediments to Admission 552 Book Reviews September-October 1999 prisms Thy kingdom come The words kingdom and reign sound off-putting to most Americans. We have little tra-dition of kings and queens. What we have of it stems from a relatively brief past of early colonizers looking back to European roots. But when we Christians pray the Lord's prayer, we find ourselves begging God--the one we address by Jesus' word Father--that "your king-dom will come." By Jesus' teaching us a way to pray as he prays, we seem to be using language that pictures God as ruler or king and God's area of influence as a kingdom. What do we mean when we pray "Thy kingdom come"? Perhaps we can gain some cl,arity by identifying first what we do not mean. Kingdom is not to be identi-fied with any political entity. Even the age-old notion of Christendom was not tl~e same as this kingdom, and so the breakup of Christendom was not a dissolution of the kingdom. Kingdom is not a certain physical locale. The Roman Catholic Church as an institutional structure is not identified with the kingdom. The church has an important role to play in the kingdom, but it is not the kingdom itself. The church continues the mission of Jesus in proclaiming the kingdom. The church is at the service of the kingdom; it is meant to be a sign, a sacrament of its presence. The kingdom is not something that we human beings fashion or build. We may sing some songs about Review for Religious our "building the kingdom of God," but there is no reality to be done corresponding to our words. According to the gospel imper-ative, we seek first the kingdom of God. We want what God wants. We desire to be totally available to God, ready to serve, eager to do God's will. Doing the will of God involves discipleship--hear-ing the call of Jesus and responding with the total gift of self. Doing the will of God makes the kingdom present, because we are busy about what God is busy about, and so we are where God is. Above all, as our petition teaches us, we pray for the coming of the kingdom since it is God's doing, it is God's work. Jesus himself never gives a definition of kingdom, and we may be surprised that no one seems to question him. In the synoptic Gospels, he never claims the kingdom as his; it always is identified with the one he calls Abba. Only through parables do we find Jesus giving some description of the kingdom. Our Christian Eucharist anticipates the frequent parable allusions to the eating and drink-ing at the Lord's table in the kingdom. For in every Eucharist we place ourselves with Jesus in his total availability to God as he prays "not my will, but yours be done." So what are we to say about the kingdom? How are we to make this petition our own every time we pray the Our Father? The kingdom is the inbreaking presence of God to our human world and our responsive relating to God's being with us. God continues to pour out divine life--what we name as grace--and, when human cooperation is present, then the kingdom is right at hand. Just as the disciples experienced the transfiguration of Jesus, so too the kingdom is often experienced by our touching into this transfiguration kind of moment of a deeper-down reality shining out through our ordinary world. As we enter into this jubilee year, not through the alarms of some millenarians, but rather through the gospel introduction of Jesus, we hear anew Jesus' call to conversion and repentance, his admonition of obedience and watchfulness, and his appeal to be ready and waiting. We are like members of a wedding party--joy-ful, expectant. But it is no bride or groom whom we serve and cel-ebrate. It is our triune God--shining out as the redemptive presence of the Father in Jesus through the power of their Spirit of love. What do we want for ourselves and for our world? "Thy Kingdom come." David L. Fleming sJ September-October 1999 perspectives VILMA SEELAUS The Self in Postmodern Thought: A Carmelite Response This article was conceived at the end of the Carmelite Seminar of 1997 at St. Mary's College in South Bend. I had an opportunity to browse in the Notre Dame book-store, and two titles in different sections waved for my attention. The first was The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the World, in which Jungian author James Hillman takes archetypal psychology in a new direction. He claims that, with the soul of the world sick as evidenced by violence and corruption, individuals become sick at heart and suffer heart attacks. To restore the heart's courage and its imaginative power, therefore, the soul of the world needs the same attention that we have been giving to the soul of individual persons. Situating the individual self within the heart of the world challenges the rugged individualism of the modern self.1 The other book that caught my attention was Anthony Thiselton's Interpreting God and the Postmodern Self, in which he offers a hermeneutic of selfhood. Thiselton compares and assesses both modern and post-modern interpretations of the self in relation to Christian Vilma Seelaus OCD made this presentation in June 1998 at the Carmelite Seminar at St. Mary's College in South Bend, Indiana. It is being published also on audio- and videocas-sette by ICS Publications and the Carmelite Institute. Her address is Carmelite Monastery; Barrington, Rhode Island 02806. Review for Religious theology. Postmodern interpretations, he acknowledges, perceive the self as trapped within a network of role performances imposed on it by the power interests of others, but he argues for a deeper understanding of the self and its destiny. Postmodernism de-cen-ters the self; it denies any permanent, integrated reality to the self. It claims that identity is socially constructed and that people in different kinds of societies have quite different identity-forming experiences. Thiselton accepts the force of this, but argues for a deeper understanding of the self in relation to the biblical vision of reality and Christian theology.2 Reading Hillman and Thiselton enticed me into further study of postmodern thought in relation to the self. Before long, the complexity of the topic had my head spinning) Furthermore, post-modern debates about the very nature of reality challenged beliefs that shape my life as a Carmelite. And yet, the more perplexed I became, the more firmly did an inner conviction stand its ground: that our Carmelite mystical tradition has perennial values and insights for our postmodern world and perhaps for many worlds yet to come. In these reflections, therefore, I place the biblical God-related understanding of the self, on which the Carmelite tradition rests, in conversation with the postmodern self. I do this in two parts. Part One brings together important insights from both the mod-ern and the postmodern movements, showing a shift in under-standing the self. Part Two looks into the writings of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross for what they offer by way of chal-lenge, expansion, or depth in regard to the self and in regard to our own spiritual journey.as we enter the new millennium. Part One Walter Truett Anderson's insightful and witty book titled: Reality Isn't What It Used to Be helped me to realize that the self in particular is not what it used to be. What did the self use to be that it no longer is? What are the shifts in self-understanding, which, for better or for worse, postmodernism names for us? How might we as Christians respond appropriately to the challenge of post-modernism? First, what do we mean by postmodern? Postmoderns claim to have superseded, to have gone beyond, previous ways of thinking, feeling, and behaving which developed in the so-called modern September-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought period. It deconstructs them, to use the "in" term. At the same time, postmodernism is far from a developed, coherent social theory. Scholars dispute whether or not it is a form of radical modernism or something distinctive after modernism, or some of each. According to Philip Endean in his foreword to an issue of The Way dedicated to postmodernism and spirituality: As the structure of the word implies, the postmodern cannot be understood for what it is in itself, but only in terms of what has preceded it: the postmodern is a gamut of reac-tions to the modern, swinging between two moods: a mood of disillusionment, as previously unquestioned assumptions and standards are found wanting, and a mood of exhilara-tion, as new and better alternatives are explored, develop&d, and advocated. Postmodern thinking draws on a wide range of sources: from cybernetics to feminism, from literary the-ory to the new physics, from cultural history to psychoanal-ysis and linguistics. Perhaps for this reason its expression can be, notoriously, opaque.4 Although the philosopher Kant back in the 18th century.paved the way, the 1960s are considered the true beginning of the post-modern era. At that time everything came into question, and all belief systems, with their traditional values, came under attack. People in the '60s began to question what they called the myth of objective consciousness: that, when you looked at things, what you saw and described was what was actually there. (At the scene of an accident, eyewitnesses often give conflicting accounts of what happened.) Today constructivists hold that the "real world" is an ever changing social creation. In the 1960s, thoughts about the self were also changing. As Anderson points out: In the '60s, people assumed that, if you developed enough contempt for your old socially adapted self, a new True Self, unsullied by any conformity, would magically appear, that a True Culture and a True Politics likewise stood in the wings--and that when they appeared they would not have to coexist with old selves, old cultures, old politics. Things didn't work that way!6 Though the '60s were the time of eruption, postmodernism con-tinues and radicalizes trends that actually began during the Enlightenment, at the dawn of what philosophers call the "mod-ern period." Descartes (1596-1650), the classical modern philoso-pher of clear and distinct ideas, attempted to provide clear and Revieva for Religious certain criteria against which our knowledge can be tested for truth. He was also intensely preoccupied with the subject who knows these ideas: the knowing person. For today's radical deconstructionists, like Derrida, such Cartesian objectivity is anathema. Derrida holds all reality to be socially constructed. Reality is simply the interpretation of the perceiving subject. Derrida insists that we cannot grasp reality because it slips by before we can catch hold of it. Everything, then, is interpreta-tion. Nevertheless, Derrida and the other decon-structionists are in a way Descartes's descendants. Descartes understands the self as an active agent, whereas for Derrida the self shifts from active agent to passive situatedness. Instead of a core something (called selJ) determining how it will respond to different situations, the situation cre-ates the self. Different situations call forth a dif-ferent self to be expressed.7 On the whole, postmoderns recognize the importance, for its time, of the modern move-ment. It brought new values to the fore. We ben-efit from the knowledge that scientific objectivity makes possible. From it come the many techno-logical wonders that are integral to our everyday life. In the moral and political spheres, modernity made room for personal autonomy and liberty and for the development of a liberal society wherein diversity is possible. Religion, too, has been enriched by modernity. Most Jewish and Christian believers, for example, no longer subscribe to a literal understanding of the Bible's story of creation in six days.8 But the improvements of modernity have a dark side: the exploitation of nature and its resources, the emergence of indi-vidualism and the consequent collapse of the sense of community, the divorce of technology from moral values, and denials of the worth of ethnic, tribal, and religious traditions. While the modern period gave us universal abstract systems and scientific "metanar-ratives," accounts of the origins and development of the universe, these often denied the existence of God or denied that God could ¯ be discovered by the conscious self. As a result, in today's world many lives are governed by efficiency, profit, success, and the will Modernity made room for personal autonomy and liberty and for the development of a liberal society wherein diversity is possible. September-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought to power without regard for ultimate human values. Talk of love, truthfulness, belief, loyalty, and so forth has little meaning. Further, advanced technology, the offspring of the modern period, has introduced a world of ceaseless change. New models quickly replace the old. Things are made not to endure, but to be consumed and replaced. Think of how quickly appliances need replacement or upgrading. Indeed, today we struggle with both the benefits and the dark side of the modern period. As science enabled the modern self more and more to carve out and control its own destiny, the self tended to be assured and opti-mistic. But today, as postmodern thinkers become increasingly aware of the self's arrogant, power-hungry dark side, the self appears to be, in fact, de-centered--no longer an active agent, but instead taking its identity from the variable roles imposed upon it by society and by its own inner drives and conflicts, conflicts which the communications media keep in constant motion. The media, especially the advertising world, tell it who it should be, how it should look, what it should own, and where it needs to travel in order to feel good about itself. Postmoderns see our opinions formed for us by the collective perceptions of the media. Under such conditions, notions of a true self give way to the self as wear-ing different masks to suit the occasion, with little sense of a solid identity underneath. We tend to become who we think others want us to be. In theory, the will of the individual is still supreme, but often it has no strong center, no belief system to serve as anchor. When everything is up for grabs, the self lacks the support of collective meaning. There is too much to choose from; this can leave indi-viduals feeling alone in a sea of options. Many people today feel estranged from others and even from themselves. When people see no value to their lives other than the imperatives of efficiency, success, or serving the power interests of others, when their "real-ity" depends on what the TV screen says is real, no wonder there are high r~ites of suicide and physician-assisted death. Veronica Brady, in an article in The Way, describes it well: "Caught in this ceaseless flow of images, the self almost ceases to exist, breaking into fragments, identifying only with the flow. Right and wrong become a matter of personal taste, depending not so much on what is done but who does it. The center does not hold because there is no center.''9 A character in Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses says: "Information got abolished sometime in the Review for Religious twentieth century, can't say just when, stands to reason, that's part of the information that got., abolished. Since then we've been living in a fairy-story . Everything happens by magic. [We] haven't a. notion what's going on. So how do we know if it's right or wrong? We don't even know what it is.'''° Rushdie's world of illusion hangs within the "actual" world of extremes of rich and poor, with millions dying of starvation as nations invest billions of dollars in developing new and deadlier weapons that are then sold to warring ethnic and tribal groups intent on destroying each other. In this context the theories of deconstructionists like Derrida and Lyotard begin to make sense. The absurdity of human confidence in its power to rule the world is becoming more and more apparent as the products of the human mind threaten to destroy us. At the same time, on the positive side, the modern period highlighted one of the deepest urges of the human heart: to be someone. The drift of cultural change is in the direction of human rights, of wanting everyone to be free to create personal identity and experience, even though, for many in our world, resources are not available. No wonder people become dishonest--seeking to have and be and do what the TV ads say they should have and be and do. The struggle to be someone is now a global struggle. Some years ago I had occasion to live in Israel for three months. The incongruities of the struggle became vivid for me when I saw, above Bedouin tents in the desert, TV antennas con-necting them with the modern/postmodern world. As Walter Truett Anderson puts it: "Every morning billions of pairs of eyes open, and billions of societies of mind set forth on the adventures of selfhood. For many the adventure only rarely rises above the level of a struggle to keep the body alive, but even the most mis-erable among us also hear the aspirations of the self---the 'me' craving reassurance that it exists and is good and the modern me that pursues happiness and believes that, whatever happiness it finds, will be what it has taken or created and not what has been handed down by fate.''~ To add a further dimension, the global struggle to be someone is seen with fresh and deep insight by postmodern psychologists who have been influenced by Buddhism. Psychologists Robert Rosenbaum and John Dyckman hold with Buddhism that self/oth-ers are empty. This does not mean that they are void; it means they have no existence other than in relationships that are con- Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought World and self mutually influence and create one another. stantly arising in the immediate experience of the moment. To say that the self is empty means that the self is not a thing and there-fore has no unchanging core characteristics or essence. It is a way of indicating that self is always completely connected to its imme-diate experience, that in the immediacy of the moment, uncon-strained by past residue or future expectations, self is always free. As the Buddhist Diamond Sutra notes, the past is gone, the future is not here, and the present cannot be grasped. This is perfect freedom.12 As the authors point out, freedom here is not to be confused with a pseudofreedom that seeks to abandon all constraints. Instead, to understand emptiness as being connected to immedi-ate experience can lead to greater generosity and compassion toward the self and others. Past experience no longer has the last word. The empty self, actualized in immediate expe-rience, binds together apparent opposites: the dynamic interchange of oneness and separate-ness. These are not mutually exclusive. The empty self is the connected self which is actu-alized in context and in relationships. Observation reveals self-identity to be fluid and constantly changing according to context and relationships. As the Rosenbaum-Dyckman article puts it, "At work we may be decisive and authoritative; when out to dinner with our spouse, we may be hesitant and deferent about what to order for dinner. Yet we believe ourselves to be the same person.°13 Postmodern psychologists repeatedly make the point that our person is not encapsulated by our skin, but exists in relation. The self is always self in relation, in action, and as such is always con-textual. They hold that emotions are always a reliving in the pre-sent rather than a recall from the dead past. If we do not need to be attached to an unchanging self, and can see change as the only constant, it becomes somewhat easier to image change in prob-lem behaviors24 Although the self may be fluid and constantly changing, it must nevertheless have a boundary, but, according to Rosenbaum and Dyckman, a boundary with infinite length enclosing a finite, definable area, different from the rigid boundaries of lines on a map. Human boundaries are not abstract, conceptual schemas, but are always embodied in constant interaction with a world from Review for Religious which they are not separate. World and self mutually influence and create one another. Such mutual influencing has the potential to stretch present definable boundaries and give glimpses into the infinite. Here the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican comes to mind. If our attitude is one of self-righteousness that places us over against the rest of the world, we will be unable to hear the challenges that postmodern psychologists offer us for continued growth in our postmodern world. Our boundaries become sealed in finitude, and the infinite capacity that is ours becomes rigid, like the lines of a map. Psychologists in increasing numbers address the postmodern shift in regard to the self, and they offer valuable insights for living healthily in today's changing world. At the same time, postmodern philosophers and psychologists do not have the last word, and so now we turn to the mystics for their insights into the self. Part Two Since human boundaries are not abstract, but are embodied and are in constant interaction with the world from which they are not separate, precisely here does the biblically based Carmelite tradition offer timeless help. Back in 16th-century Spain, Teresa of Avila wrote a book to help her daughters of the reformed Carmel relate to one another and to the world, from which they were not separate even in their cloister. In her Way of Perfection, she gives her daughters some advice that flows with meaning into our post-modern age: "I shall enlarge on only three things., for it is very important that we understand how much the practice of these three things helps us to possess inwardly and outwardly the peace our Lord recommended so highly to us. The first of these is love for one another; the second is detachment from all created things; the third is true humility, which, even though I speak of it last, is the main practice and embraces all the others.''~s Many centuries separate us from Teresa and the particularity of her issues, but the interrelated dynamic of love, detachment, and humility are integral to spiritual growth in today's confusing world. Postmodernity challenges much of what we cling to by way of values and beliefs and, in particular, our self-understanding. To understand the self as fluid and constantly changing invites a deeper penetration into the Christian, Carmelite Understanding of Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought detachment. It would have us be attached to nothing, not even the most innocent of things, for in time of need they fail us com-pletely. John of the Cross insists: "To come to the knowledge you have not, you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you' have not, you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not, you must go by a way in which you are not . This places us in our center of humility.''16 Detachment and humility go hand in hand. They cre-ate an openness to new ideas, a willingness to let go of the past an, d let the context of the present create us anew. The contextual pre-sent is the place of encounter with God. The past, while it may continue to influence present behavior, is in fact nonexistent, and the future evolves out of each passing moment. Detachment opens up roads less traveled; but, if we feel attached to our current road, we may all too readily say, "This is me; this is my self." We have heard people say, "I'm a one on the enneagram or an INFP on the Myers-Briggs, so you have to take me as I am." With such a self-fixated attitude, we will less likely hear God's invitation into the infinite realms of potential self-realization. If we conceive of the self as determined by the pathways already taken, a composite of past experiences, it will be hard to let go when unknown paths beckon us onward. As Rosenbaum and Dyckman put it, "The self, as an accumulation of experience, is a prison; the self as empty, as shimmering potentiality, is a prism that, depending on its positioning, gives forth many different colors."17 In his Spiritual Canticle, John of the Cross reminds us that the woods and thicket in which we find ourselves today have been planted by the hand of the Beloved.18 God's self revelation con-tinues right within the human story. The density and darkness of postmodernity--which holds that there is a multiplicity of per-spectives in the search for truth, which denies a stable foundation of self and of knowledge--can generate extremes of uncertainty. But the de-centered self of postmodernity has its own gift to offer. It invites us, beyond the limits of what can be known and con-trolled, into a self that is mystery, into God as ultimate Mystery. The temptation is either to stay blinded in self-righteous cling-ing to the limitations of human knowledge, or to despair before the uncertainties of life. Detachment itself can be the void of despair, unless it is grounded in faith and in the experience of God. The Dutch theologian Frans Jozef van Beeck, in his contem-porary. Catholic systematic-theology series titled God Encountered, Review for Religious reminds us that "the human subject., is naturally and radically 'de-centered': the mature person's true center does not repose in the person. Authentic persons live on the strength of unfulfillable desire . Grace graciously enables human persons, along with their world, to that most natural, yet most divine of all things: freely to move toward God in total faith and abandon."'gIn the midst of alternative versions of reality, and many different ways of being in the world, with the postmodern tolerance for a plethora of possibilities, choosing to believe in something is vital. We can be respectful of others with differing beliefs and still stand firm in the faith that is ours, a faith that centers the self in God. According to the philosopher Kierkegaard, faith is the pas-sionate embrace of objective uncertainty.2° Faith bypasses the postmodern self that interprets, even cre-ates, its own reality. It bypasses human reason to plunge us into mystical depths where being and nonbeing are held in cre-ative tension by God's abiding presence to human life. At this level Rahner rightly speaks of the experience of God and the experience of self as one.2' In his insis-tence upon the possibility open to all of an immediate experience of God, Rahner writes: "I am convinced that such an immediacy between God and the human person., is of greater significance today than ever before. All the societal supports of religion are collapsing and dying out in this secularized and pluralistic society. If, nonetheless, there is to be real Christian spirituality, .it cannot be kept alive and healthy by external helps, not even those which the church offers., but only through an ulti-mate, immediate encounter ofthe individual with God.''22 The Harvard psychologist Charles Verge names this place of encounter "the divine self.''23 Here the self and God mirror each other.24 The longing of the human heart to be someone issues from God, in whose image we are made and whose love holds us in being. "Beloved of God" defines the self. The Spiritual Canticle of John of the Cross is a text that writes the self of each one of us. In the Canticle, God's passionate love for the soul, enfleshed in Christ, The longing of the human heart to be someone issues from God, in whose image we are made and whose love holds us in being. Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought stirs a passionate response and gives meaning and direction to life right within the extremes of uncertainty that surround us. To be transformed into the image of Christ, to become like Christ, con-stitutes the heart of the divine promise. Faith enables us to embrace, with passion, the ultimate objec-tive uncertainty that the mystery of God revealed in Christ is. Christ lifts the self out of its predefined situatedness with its self-interest, into love for God and love for others. God's love trans-forms the will to power, to possession, to lust, into will to love. The detachment that faith calls forth issues in genuine love even for those who differ from us. Postmodernism stretches our capacity to love. Life today beckons toward a global embrace of love; love for those who may look different from us, love for those who may think differently from us, and love for those whose values may be different, even opposed to ours. Today, in the face of our differences, love holds the special challenge of intense, respectful listening, which can only happen if the heart is humble. A humble heart is a heart detached from pre-conceived ideas and personal prejudice. According to Teresa, humil-ity is truth, and our truth is that we are all, without exception, finite, fragile creatures capable of sin and that as such we always stand on the threshold of ongoing conversion. At the same time, integral to truth is that each one of us is always infinitely loved and possessed by God. Insofar as we fall short, God invites us to continued conversion and, even more, to divine transformation. Our challenge is to live Christ's gospel of love. Such love dissolves the disharmony of suspicion and distrust, it detaches us from self-interest, and it opens us to others in humility and genuine con-cern. As Rahner sagely asks, "Why should there be any need for deception, which serves to protect the self, if the self is loved, wel-comed, accepted, and reconciled-as-one with the Other?''2s Receiving the self from God in Christ, giving the self to others in love, and serving the other's interests as one's own are mirrorings of God, the divine self-giving Trinity, in whose image we are. In trinitarian theology, love constitutes the ground of selfhood. The gospel account of Jesus at table, encircled by the outcasts of his time, symbolizes the self today cast out from itself and in need of re-centering in Christ. From the horizon of Christ, we see the incompleteness of all that is human in relation to our total commitment to Christ, but in Christ we also see ourselves con-nected with the heart of all that is. Revie~v for Religious The archetypal psychology of James Hillman invites us to this from a psychological perspective. He would have us see ourselves and others as intimately connected with what he calls the soul of the world. Today conversion extends to claiming our part in what Hillman rightly names the sickness of the soul of the world. He claims that the world, because of its breakdown, is entering a new moment of consciousness by having its attention drawn to itself by means of its symptoms. It is becoming aware of itself as a psychic reality. We now encounter pathology in the psyche of politics and medicine, of language and design, of the food we eat. Sickness, says Hillman, is now "out there" as well as "in here.''26 To situate our individual self within the heart of the world not only challenges the rugged individualism of the modern self; it also invites a deeper awareness of our connectedness with others and with planet Earth, whose beauty and balance are today oppressed by our violent consumer world. The world itself is now a patient in need of hea~ling. Postmodernism offers a broader understanding of the redeeming mission of Christ. The entire cos-mos becomes the locus of redemption. Like us, our church and civilization and even planet are all in need of Christ's redeeming, healing, transforming love. Postmodernism is globalism; as such it is the half-discovered truth of the one unity that transcends all our differences. The language of postmodernism would be alien to Teresa, and yet, as she increasingly experienced herself as centered in God, her self became increasingly fluid. She seems astonished as the boundaries of the self continue to expand. There are many exam-pies, but in her Autobiography, her Vida (chap. 15, para. 7), Teresa, experiencing herself infused with the light of God, comments: "And I, though being what I am, seem to be another person." In 23.1, recalling how God freed her from herself, she writes that "here begins another new life." In 27.1, having placed herself com-pletely in the hands of God, she says, "l saw that I was a com-pletely different person." In 27.9 she says, "One of these graces is enough to change a soul completely.''27 In the context of these remarks, Teresa specifically mentions that she is growing in either love, detachment, or humility. At the height of her mystical life, Teresa has a profound expe-rience that, on the level of the divine self, reflects the empty, de-centered, but relational, contextual self of postmodernity. In 40.5 of her Vida, she writes: Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought Once, while I was reciting with all the sisters the hours of the divine office, my soul suddenly became recollected; and it seemed to me to be like a brightly polished mirror, without any part on the back or sides or top or bottom that wasn't totally clear. In its center Christ our Lord was shown to me, in the way I usually see him. It seemed to me I saw him clearly in every part of my soul, as though in a mirror¯ And this mirror also--I don't know how to explain it--was com-pletely engraved upon the Lord Himself by means of a very loving communication I wouldn't know how to describe. ¯ I was given understanding of what it is for a soul to be in mortal sin. It amounts to clouding this mirror with mist and leaving it black; and thus this Lord cannot be revealed or seen, even though he is always present giving us being. In God, Teresa is connected with the world's sin, even as she affirms the ever present graciousness of God always giving us being within the darkness of sin. God is present in Teresa, not with power and might, but in love and with an invitation to self-transcendence that is as pertinent and penetrating for us today as it was for Teresa. In 3 7.11 of her l/ida, Teresa sounds as though she is living in our present age. After lamenting the foibles of her honor-bound society, with its elaborate system of etiquette, she says, "I don't know how it's all going to end up; even though I'm not y.et fifty, I've already seen so many changes I don't even know how to live anymore. What will they do who are now being born and will live for many years?" What will we do, we who have been born in this postmodern era, this era in which we live for many years, often into our nineties? Like Teresa, we do not know where it is all going to end up. Many would say that dark night engulfs our entire world and the times in which we live. The Carmelite tradition, however, assures us that God is in the night. John of the Cross eloquently describes the meaning of the soul's journey into the night of God. In this night of faith, we discover that love is the eye of God and we in turn are to see and interpret all things through the eyes of God. From this perspective we see that we are all one in God's love and that we bear one another's burdens. By the quality of our lives, Christ would have us be bearers of hope for all who suffer the travails of poverty, violence, injustice, and oppression. Right within the many forms of death that surround us is the seed of resurrec-tion impatient for new life. As we work with our differences in families, in our civic and Review for Religious church communities, we can dare to hope that our graced strug-gle will energize efforts toward understanding, toward finding common ground within the extremes of diversity that ctiaracterize our postmodern world. What we see in Teresa's writings is a devel-opment in her understanding of herself and of Christ, who com-panions her journey. Today,. as we find the self anew, we also find new ways of seeing Christ and the Christian mysteries right within our postmodern world, without getting caught in nostalgia for the past. Again, like Teresa, we do not know where it will all end up. What we do know is that the future is present, like a seed, in today's disconcerting moment. Our challenge is to live now, to live fully (but with humility, detachment, and love) what we say we believe. The sufferings of our time are not meaningless, as sec-ular postmodernity might see them. They are integral to the groan-ing of creation in labor until it brings forth redemption, the final triumph of God's love. At its deepest level the self is caught up in the incomprehensible mystery of Love we call God. Notes I James Hillman, The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the World (Woodstock, Connecticut: Spring Publications, 1995). 2 Anthony C. Thiselton, Interpreting God and the Postmodern Self'. On Meaning, Manipulation, and Promise (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998). 3 It also leaves me with a little anxiety that the many authors that I read be given due credit. As I prepare this paper for publication, I real-ize that much of what I read merged in my thinking as I internalized the material. 4 See The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 175. s According to Anderson, Kant's work in the 18th century began with a problem that was as divisive in its time as the objectivist-con-structivist one is in ours--in this case a conflict between the British empiricists such as Locke and Hume, who saw thought as merely an instrument for understanding or using "real world experience," and the Continental philosophers such as Descartes and Leibniz, who saw the mind as the supreme organizer and discoverer of all reality. This was not a postmodern debate. All parties assumed that people could appre-hend unchanging and universal truth. Kant's attempt to resolve the con-flict was his own contribution to the search for "foundational" knowledge or reality--beyond historical and cultural relativism--but it pointed toward a view of the mind as a creator of reality. Kant describes the mind as an active organ that orders and forms the raw data of experience, 1-467-- September-October 1999 Seela~s ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought imposing upon them its own structure; we do not experience things in themselves but rather representations of them. See Walter Truett Anderson, Reality Isn't What It Used to Be (San Francisco: Harper, 1990), pp. 59-60. 6 Anderson, Reality, p. 48. 7 See Robert Rosenbaum and John Dyckman, "Integrating Self and System: An Empty Intersection?" Family Process 34 (March 1995): 26- 27, and Kenneth J. Gergen, "The Social Construction of Self- Knowledge," in Daniel Kolak and Raymond Martin, Self and Identity: Contemporary Philosophical Issues (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1991), pp. 372-403. 8 See Max Charlesworth, "Postmodernism and Theology," The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 188-202, for an interesting summary of the devel-opment of modern to postmodern thought. 9 Veronica Brady, "Postmodernism and the Spiritual Life," in The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 181. 10 Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses (London: Viking, 1988), p. 313, quoted in Brady, "Postmodernism." 11 Walter Truett Anderson, Reality, p. 132. 12 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," pp. 28-33. 13 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," p. 26. 14 According to Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," pp. 35-37, acknowledging memory as constructive, as a present contextual experi-ence, rather than as retrieval of the past, helps to avoid difficulties such as the controversies over recovered memories of trauma and abuse, which are a sensitive contemporary issue. ~s Teresa of Avila, Way of Perfection (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1980), chap. 4, para. 4, p. 54. 16 The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1991), p. 150. 17 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," p. 37. is See his Spiritual Canticle, stanza 4, in Collected Works, p. 494. 19 Frans Jozef van Beeck, God Encountered: A Contemporary Catholic Systematic Theology, Vol. 2/1 (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 238. 20 Soren Kierkegaard, "Truth Is Subjectivity," in Concluding Unscientific Postscript, ed. and trans. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), pp. 169ff. "Truth is precisely the con° tradiction between the infinite passion of the individual's inwardness and the objective uncertainty. If I am capable of grasping God objectively, I do not believe, but precisely because I cannot do this I must believe. If I wish to preserve myself in faith, I must constantly be intent upon hold-ing fast the objective uncertainty, so as to remain out upon the deep, over seventy thousand fathoms of water, still preserving my faith . " Review for Religious 2~ See Karl Rahner, "Experience of Self and Experience of God," in Theological Investigations, vol. 13 (New York: Crossroad, 1983), pp. 122- 132. 22 See "The Immediate Experience of God in the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius of Loyola," in Karl Rahner in Dialogue, ed. Paul Imhof and Hubert Biallowons, trans. Harvey D. Egan (New York: Crossroad, 1986), p. 176. 20 See Charles Verge, "Foundations for a Spiritually Based Psychotherapy," in Religion and Family, ed. L. Burton (Hayworth Press, 1992), pp. 41-59. 24 See also her Autobiography in Collected Works of Teresa of Avila, Vol. 1, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1976), chap. 40, paras. 5 ~nd 10. Teresa here recounts two visions in which God and the soul mirror each other. See also Spiritual Canticle, stanza 12, in Collected Works of John of the Cross, pp. 515-519. 2s Quoted in Thiselton, Interpreting God, p. 160. z6 Hillman, Thought of the Heart, pp. 96-99. 27 With only a quick glance, I found chap. 20, paras. 23, 25, and 26- 28; chap. 21, paras. 8-9; and chap. 25, paras. 18-19--all referring to Teresa experiencing herself as a different person. The Salvation Cup I raise my fragile, broken cup. Accept it empty. Nothing I own can f!ll it. This is the cup of my truth, my faith in the promise, my salvation cup. Fill it with the wine of the Spirit, the river that makes fertile my barren ground, the ocean of never ending mystery. This is my cup. With it I offer my fragileness, my sinfulness and my broken promises. Heal me, Spirit of God, with theelixir of salvation. Virginia Skrdlant SHCJ September-October 1999 FREDERICK E. CROWE The "World" from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II An old proverb, once thought to be scriptural, warns us that where there is no understanding the people perish. Scriptural or not, the proverb itself is sound enough, and I would apply it to the institution of religious life. On all sides the question is heard: Is religious life dying? I refuse to believe that the God who gave us Anthony of Egypt, Benedict, Francis, Dominic, Ignatius, and so many others down to Mother Teresa is a God who intends religious life to perish. But I do believe in the need for under-standing, so that through our input God's operative grace may become cooperative. The Pattern of Human Thinking This essay is, then, an essay in understanding, but much more modest in scope than the preceding paragraph would suggest. It does not attempt td study religious life in its essence, its proper-ties, its various manifestations. It goes back rather to a prelimi-nary question and takes one small point for study: the Christian attitude toward what we call the "world." It is my hope that, if we gain some understanding on this background question, we will have a context for an eventual rethinking of religious life itself. Frederick E. Crowe SJ wrote "The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality" for our July-August 1994 issue. His address remains Lonergan Research Institute; 10 St. Mary Street, Suite 500; Toronto, Ontario; M4Y 1P9 Canada. Review for Religious My approach is historical rather than analytic. It examines the major transitions in the Christian attitude toward the world. It finds a dialectic running through history, a dialectic of to and fro that is not a mere alternation, but a progressively unfolding pat-tern in which each alternation is a step forward. It concludes with the way the church is finding new meaning for its role in the world, and proposes this as a new context in which religious too might find today the meaning of their consecrated life. The advantage of approaching history as a dialectic in the sense described is twofold. First, it may lift us out of our "crisis" mood, in which we think of our present situation as a spiritual fever, as a low point from which the patient may either die or recover and resume life as it was before the crisis. In a dialectical understanding, that is not the case. The low point is an opening on a new high. Second, a dialectic follows an intelligible pattern, with each step part of a natural, though not necessarily logical, sequence. This means that, if we can plot the sequence up to the present, we may be able to establish the direction of movement and discern the path we should take into the developing and unknown future. That "natural sequence" is the pattern of human thinking in time, the way the human mind naturally works as it progresses toward fuller and fuller understanding. In itself the pattern is sim-ple enough. Faced with a problem area of any complexity, the human mind will first find some specific factor of explanation, will tend to make that the whole explanation, but will eventually see that it is insufficient as a total view. It will then discover a generic factor and will in turn make that the full explanation, only to dis-cover that this too is insufficient as a total view. Eventually, in the dialectical oscillation of specific and generic, the mind will arrive at a higher viewpoint and hold the specific and the generic in the unity of a full understanding. The Pattern Illustrated That is terribly abstract. So, before applying it to the history of Christian thinking on the world, let me offer two concrete illus-trations that show the pattern as realized in actual history. First, the natural priority of the specific is easily illustrated in human lan-guage. "So in Homer there were words for such specific activities as glancing, peering, staring, but no generic word for seeing.''1 This is "both the strength and the weakness of'early language";~ it Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican ll The term vocation was appropriated to the religious life (as it commonly still is). has the power of the concrete, but is unable to reason in abstract or generic terms. And so in learning to write English we are told to search for the specific, for the concrete descriptive word, but in the strict reasoning of, say, a legal question we may have to resort to technical and abstract language. What is true of human language is true also of human think-ing, and so my second illustration is taken from the theology of our need for divine grace. Here there was first the discovery of a specific explana-tion, namely, the fall of our first parents. This was largely the focus of St. Augustine's thinking, which centered on the difference between their state before the fall and ours after it. This idea ran its course for about seven centuries, cul-minating in the position of Peter Lombard, namely, that there are in the grace-history of our human race "four states of human liberty: the earthly paradise, fallen man, man redeemed, and heaven.''3 Our need for divine grace is understood in relation to those states. Meanwhile, however, the insufficiency of this specific step was gradually becoming apparent. There was difficulty in defining lib-erty; the doctrine of merit tended to hang in mid air; even grace itself lacked a clear definition, for what is there that is not a free gift of God and therefore grace?4 The dialectic of ideas was prepar-ing theologians for the next step, the discovery of the generic the-orem of two orders with quite distinct status in the universe of being, the supernatural order and the natural: "not only was there the familiar series of grace, faith, charity, and merit, but also nature, reason, and the natural love of God.''5 This was largely the work of Philip the Chancellor in Paris in the early 1200s. It was an epoch-making discovery, and it put the question of our need for divine grace on an entirely new basis, releasing a whole series of developments. But so intoxicating was Philip's idea that theologians made a mistake exactly parallel to the one their predecessors made in the use of Augustine: the view that this was a complete and adequate explanation. Thomas Aquinas himself, in his early writings, shows hints of this one-sidedness, not giving sufficient attention to the moral impotence that is the result of Adam's fall. Nevertheless, it was Thomas who finally Review for Religious brought, the two factors, the specific and the generic, into unity. Peter Lombard's four states remain in the Thomist synthesis, but as applying to a specific question within the genus of the total divine plan.6 The Pattern Verified in the Specific Idea of "World" I have illustrated the way the human mind naturally works in time as it advances in understanding: first, a specific idea; then, exaggeration of this idea; next, a generic idea; exaggeration of this in its turn; eventually a synthesis. I believe the pattern is discernible also in the history of Christian thinking on the idea of the world. There too I find a specific and a generic factor, with the specific the first to be discovered and exploited beyond its potentiality, and the generic the next to be discovered and in its turn exploited beyond due measure. Again let us turn from the abstract to the concrete. Concretely the first step may be located in, or at least represented by, Anthony of Egypt. Toward the end of the 3rd century, "Anthony gave away his possessions, and devoted himself to a life of asceticism, and c. 285 retired completely into the desert . Towards the end of his life, the numbers of those who turned to the solitary life of the desert increased as the result of the secularization of the church.''7 It is possible to see this development in too simplistic a fash-ion, but at least one characteristic feature is clear: flight from the world. So it produced works with titles like De contemptu mundi (On contempt of the world). It filled Europe with hermitages, con-vents, and monasteries. For twelve centuries the idea ran its course with enormous impact on Christian v.alues, Christian living, Christian institutions.8 But it suffered the handicap of being a specific idea attempt-ing to provide a total view. For one example, the term vocation was appropriated to the religious life (as it commonly still is). In this respect the laity of the church and even the diocesan clergy were deemed to belong to a lower class: they did not have a "voca-tion." A reaction was inevitable, but it was centuries taking shape. Many diverse influences were at work promoting it. Its history is a complex interweaving of those influences. There were subver-sive along with legitimate movements. But what was positive and valid in the reaction, and quite natural and basic in the unfolding Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II dialectic, was the emergence of the generic factor in the concept of the world. The Pattern Verified in the Generic Idea of "World" The quite basic event, then, in the. emergence of the generic concept of the world was the discovery by Philip the Chancellor of the two orders: natural and supernatural. I used this earlier to illustrate the pattern of human thinking as it is found in theology (not only was there the familiar series of grace, faith, charity, and merit, but also nature, reason, an'd the natural love of God). I use it now as a basic explanatory factor for the new stage of our dialec-tic. That is no accident. It is an idea so fundamental that it is bound to appear in the history of any theological idea. It underpins all that I have to say in this section and the following. Every discovery makes its way against opposition from an estab-lishment. The recognition of the natural order had to be followed by a recognition of its rightful autonomy, and that could not fail to be a traumatic experience for the church. The history of this strug-gle need not detain us here. In essence the point is that the human race was not only created divine; it was also created human, with a need for hunting, fishing, farming, for song and dance, for math-ematics, science, philosophy, whatever lies within its potency for development. Without grace we are able, Thomas Aquinas would say, using his favorite example, to cultivate our fields and build our houses. But the full extent of that principle means that without grace we can marry and be given in marriage, form guilds among artisans, establish universities, function as nations, join in a world union of peoples, explore the boundaries of space. Further, the natural has its own laws. Natures operate uni-formly: we do not gather grapes from thorns or figs from thistles (Mr 7:17). And those natural laws can be isolated in thought and allowed to develop and flourish according to their own potential. For to be human is to learn: to learn that there are human tech-niques for producing good crops, human means for controlling nature, human means of self-government, human means for gain-ing wisdom and educating upcoming generations, and so on through the list. If, then, we take a broad view of the forest, not stopping to study individual trees, we can discern here the generic factor in Review for Religious the concept of the world, the needed complement to the specific factor provided by Anthony. This generic factor is the recogni-tion of the world as good in its own right. God did not create an evil universe, but made all things that they might have being and life (Ws 1:13-14; 1 Tm 4:4). That means that we can no longer be satisfied with the negative connotation of "flight from the world." There is a positive side to Anthony's strategy: its focus on the transcen-dent. The negative side is not repudiated, but it has to be seen in relation to that focus and has to be complemented by a generic view of the goodness of all creation. But the pattern of the dialectic suggests that this step too will be exaggerated, and that is exactly what happened. In the intoxication of this new idea, there was a widespread repudia-tion of the age-old flight from the world. Convents and monasteries were emptied; instead of contemptus mundi, there was a glorification of the secular.9 And so secularism arose: what was legitimate in the discovery of the natural, what was legitimate in the declaration of its auton-omy was magnified to an ism. What was a genetic idea that should have been brought into union with the specific paraded as the full explanation of the universe. A movement for the liberation of the secular became a secularism. The secular and the sacred have to do with human thought and feeling and the human use of creation. Uniting the Specific and the Generic: New Categories Christian thinking on th~ world has gone through the two phases inherent in the dialectic of human learning: the discovery and undue exploitation of a specific factor, followed by a reaction, and the discovery and undue exploitation of a generic factor, fol-lowed in its turn by a reaction. The current need is for the inte-gration of the two factors, and the categories that offer hope of that are the sacred and the secular. This pair of terms has crept into our discussion as related to, but not identical with, the supernatural and the natural. They need more careful definition. The natural and the supernatural provide the framework of creation; they are what philosophers would call Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican 11 the ontological constituents of the universe. But the secular and the sacred have to do with human thought and feeling and the human use of creation; they pertain to the cultural sphere rather than the ontological. The natural cannot be made supernatural: as Isaiah reports the word of the Lord, "my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways" (Is 55:8, NEB). God is the wholly other. Grace perfects nature but does not destroy it. The natural, then, maintains its identity within the unity of God's creative plan. Catholic schools do not use a different mathematics to add and subtract, to divide and multiply. But while the natural remains what it was created to be, it can be invested with the aura of the supernatural, and in this sense the natural can be sacralized, become sacred. Bernard Lonergan provides a context in which to locate this cultural transformation: "The whole world of sense is to be. a token, a mystery, of God"; and again: "the world of sense is. a mystery that signifies God as we know him and symbolizes the fur-ther depths that lie beyond our comprehension.''~° This means that the secular, not only as a world but also in its various aspects, can in human thought and feeling be given the character of the sacred. So in primitive peoples there was a religious ritual for plant-ing and harvesting, for coming to puberty and marrying, for rev-erent remembering of the dead, and so on. All these activities are given a sacred aspect, though their natural basis allows for their secular use. But they are only potentially secular; they are not at first recognized to have that aspect. For the human race is funda-mentally religious, in the sense of being created with a religious consciousness, and has remained religious despite all the protests of unbelievers. One may say: In the beginning was the sacred. That is, what later became distinguished as the two zones of the sacred and the secular was at first all one zone, and it was sacred. Now, just as in the ontological sphere the natural component of the universe had to be recognized for what it was, the natural, so too in the sphere of the cultural the legitimately secular aspect had to escape from the domination of the sacred and assume its independent role in the plan of creation. In the course of this development, there was inevitably a conflict with the representa-tives of the sacred; inevitably too the secular won its rightful inde-pendence. "For this sacralized construct of man and his universe was impugned and impugned successfully by Copernicus, Galileo, Review for Relig4ous and Newton, by Darwin and Freud, and by the swarm of philoso-phies" at least since Descartes.~l So the struggle between natural and supernatural was repeated here, with the same exaggerations. The extremists were not con-tent to liberate the secular; they were driven also to desecrate the sacred. Concretely we might think of the relation between a sec-ular day of rest and the Lord's Day. There has been a strong ten-dency in this matter for the sacral to dictate to the secular, imposing a religious observance so strict as to frustrate the secu-lar purpose of a day of rest. But on the other side there is the des-ecration of the Lord's Day represented in past history by the extremists in the French Revolution and, some would say, by the present Sunday shopping. Uniting the Specific and the Generic: New Strategy Perhaps it is possible now to sketch the lines we might follow to achieve the desired integration of our specific and generic fac-tors. Our question is: How is the church to achieve the unity of Anthony and Aristotle, of Jerusalem and Athens, of the transcen-dent and the this-worldly, and now in particular of the sacred and the secular? Our suggestion is that what had been at first unwit-tingly sacralized was then wittingly secularized. Bur what was wit-tingly secularized can be wittingly resacralized for Christian purposes as the need arises. The pagans of Rome sacralized their meat by offering it to their gods, but the Christians could, in effect, desacralize these meats with a good conscience and, if they wished, resacralize them to their own purpose: "he who eats meat has the Lord in mind when he eats" (Rm 14:6). Again, a game of golf may be just what workers need on their day of secular rest, and present discipline in the church allows them to keep holy the Sabbath and still go golfing. But the new sacralization will be different. There will be a new understanding and a new humility. The sacred will not dictate to the secular in the latter's own sphere. It will be a sacralization through the intention of believers, using the natural end of a nat-ural entity to their religious purpose. They who eat meat have the Lord in mind when they eat; they who golf give thanks alike in the weekly Eucharist and in their outdoor exercise. A final point brings us back to larger issues: sacralization will not be merely extrinsic to the natural world. On this question Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II Marie Dominique Chenu Op has some helpful remarks. He sees a purer presence of the church in the world creating a new kind of Christians in the world: missionaries of the gospel, and not the protectors of a civilization that they themselves have organized. The real vocation of lay people will be to show that Christianity does not despise the world, but lifts it up, consecrates it, and ful-fills it. And this new presence will unite intrinsically with the world, will make it a true partner, for the believers will read the signs of the times and through them discern the elements in the world and human history that are, as it were, naturally open to the sacred, offering the possibility of a new praeparatio evangelica. They now look for a spirituality that will integrate their life in a world that has become the main field where they must seek their sanctifica-tion. 12 Religious Life in the Ongoing Dialectic The focus of my attention has been the new path for the church in the world today, along the lines of the Vatican Council II document Gaudium et spes. We must be clear on the church in the new age before venturing to discuss religious life in the new age, for religious are Christian before they are religious; that is the order of the council in its document on the church, Lumen gen-tium.~ 3 But of course that means that the dialectic we have dis-cerned in history will apply also to the features of Christian living that religious have in common with all Christians. In that context we may anticipate the direction that applying the dialectic to religious life should take. We will understand how the religious state began as a "flight" from the "world," and we will realize that, as our conception and knowledge of that world has changed enormously, so also must our notion of flight from it. We have come a long way from St. Anthony of Egypt. I trust, never-theless, that we have not left him behind. With all reverence we may conceive an analogy with a hymn of Thomas Aquinas that the church uses in Holy Week: "The word of God, proceeding forth / Yet leaving not his Father's side." Our task is not to aban-don Anthony, but "proceeding forth" to retain his insight and transpose it into a realization of Vatican II's "church in the mod-ern world" and of religious life as it is to be lived in the coming millennium. Our task is to achieve in our own way the unity of the specific and ~he generic concepts of the world. Review for Religious Religious, then, will retain their vows, and the vows will have the meaning they had for Aquinas, a revocatio ab affectu temporalium, a withdrawal from affection for this world.14 They will have the meaning also that Anthony's flight from the world had for him in his time of secularization. And that meaning will remain even in the most sacred of times. A focus on the transcendent and the escha-tological state will necessarily involve the reevaluation of the world that the saints have always shown: not a contempt for the good of creation, but a love for the better to which the good is open. Correspondingly, there will be far more attention to the positive aspects of the vows. This movement has already begun, but it should undergo an extensive development. Similarly for the pos-itive counterpart of the "flight": contemplation of the divine. The cloistered will redouble attention to their contemplative role, and the active will redouble attention to their role as contemplatives in action. As we follow the dialectic in its future course, we would do well to consider our starting point. The first word in the gospel message is "repent" (Mt 4:17; and see the same in Mk 1:15, but with a preface, "The time has come . . ."). Our examination of conscience in this respect might ask in what degree, if any, we transferred to ourselves as perfection what belongs rather to the realm of the sacred. Medieval theologians argued at length about holiness and the more perfect state. Should the operative word be, not "holy" in the sense of personal virtue, but rather "sacred" in the sense of "consecrated to God"? Notes 1 Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1994 reprint), p. 87. 2 Lonergan, Method, p. 87. 3 Grace and Freedom: Operative Grace in the Thought of St. Thomas Aquinas (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1971), p. I0. 4 Grace and Freedom, pp. 14-15. s Grace and Freedom, pp. 15-16. 6 Bernard Lonergan, "Gratia Operans: A Study of Speculative Development in the Writings of St. Thomas Aquinas," doctoral disser-tation, Gregorian University, Rome, 1940, pp. 36-37. The preface and introduction, from which the dialectical pattern is taken, were published in Method: Journal of Lonergan Studies 3, no. 2 (October 1985): 9-46. The whole dissertation will he published in volume 1 of the Collected September-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "World"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican 11 Works of Bernard Lonergan, soon to appear from University of Toronto Press. This section of my article simply paraphrases Lonergan's position as set forth in that dissertation. 7 The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, ed. EL. Cross (London: Oxford University Press, 1958), article, "Antony, St., of Egypt." s See, for an example, G.J. Engelhardt, "The De contemptu mundi of Bernardus Morevalensis," Mediaeval Studies 22 (1960): 108-135; 26 (1964): 109-142; 29 (1967): 243-272. On the same topic Robert Bultot published widely in books and periodicals of the 1960s under the title La doctrine du m~pris du monde. 9 The turnaround had an interesting development in the Lutheran idea. Lutheranism "does not consider the call of the pastor any more sacred than the call of each Christian to witness to the lordship of Christ in his life and work. The universal priesthood of believers., makes the vocation of every man a holy calling"; see "Lutheranism" in A Handbook of Christian Theology (Cleveland and New York: World Publishing Company, 1958). Here too there is a valuable insight, namely, the vocation of every Christian, but it is not integrated into the dialectical development on the "world." 10 Bernard Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1992), pp. 689, 692. '~ Bernard Lonergan, "Sacralization and Secularization," unpublished MS of a 1974 lecture (originally given 1973), p. 23. My whole article relies heavily on this lecture. ~2 Spirituality in the Secular City (Concilium 19), pp. 114-115. I have paraphrased, with frequent verbatim quotations, two pages of "Desacralization and the Spiritual Life" by Claude J. Geffr~ op. ~3 See chap. 6, §§43-47, on religious, in Lumen gentium, the coun-cil's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church. 14 On "revocatio ab affectu temporalium," see Thomas Aquinas, De perfectione vitae spiritual#, chap. 6. Review for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother": Being and Doing Brotherhood In Genesis, chapter 45, Joseph, one of Jacob's sons, has the delicate task of revealing his identity to his brothers. Having sold him into slavery several years before, they do not recognize him now in this powerful Egyptian official, second only to Pharaoh. In his self-revelation Joseph tells his brothers, "Come closer to me. I am your brother" (Gn 45:4). To be convincing, Joseph has to do more than tell his brothers who he is; he must demonstrate this through his attitudes and actions toward them. If he was truly to be their brother, then he had to do what brothers do. Only then was he gen-uinely recognizable to them. This story has a valuable reminder for religious brothers today. The name by which we identify our-selves in life and in the church reflects a rich and prophetic spirituality. "Brother" is not only a title, it is what we are. Even more, it is what we are called and committed to do among ourselves, among the people, and for the church. Also, it is ever a reality we must become: it cannot be fully and finally accompJished at the time of our religious profession. In my experience of the church and sodety today, several forces outside lay religious life often contribute Joel Giallanza csc wrote for us as recently as our May-June issue. His formation work continues at Charles Andersen Residence; 320 Brahan Boulevard; San Antonio, Texas 78215. Septe~nber-October 1999 brothers Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brotber" We need one another to be who we say we are and to do what we say we do by our very vocation. to making brothers unrecognizable, unknown, or unappreciated. One of them is that the church's administration emphasizes-- implicitly and explicitly--the clerical state as normative for min-istry and governance within the church, while brotherhood tends to become invisible or at least peripheral. Another is that in a vari-ety of cultures the term brother is used to designate seminarians and other candidates for presbyteral ordination. From this perspective brotherhood tends to be inter-preted as a transitional stage. These outside forces, how-ever, are not alone in influencing the public perception of brothers. Two internal forces come to mind. Sometimes we define our-selves or allow ourselves to be defined in negative terms, that is, by what we are not: unordained or nonclerical men religious. To go through life with "un" or "non" as the beginning of our self-iden-tity is not a good basis for explaining our vocation. It is even a less good basis for promoting vocations. And sometimes we do not reflect upon sufflciendy and articulate clearly our own identity, including the challenges we face simply because we dare to call ourselves brothers. Being Brother Immediately striking about the term brother is its relational character. It expresses both a specific relationship and a way of being in relationship. For us it assumes that we are willing to enter into relationships with others. It assumes we choose to be involved, not isolated. Though Vita consecrata does not speak extensively about the vocation of brothers in the church, it recognizes four relationships that are to characterize our way of life. These religious are called to be brothers of Christ, deeply united with him, "the firstborn among many brothers" (Rm 8:29); brothers to one another in mutual love and working together in the church in the same service of what is good; brothers to everyone in their witness to Christ's love for all, especially the lowliest, the neediest; brothers for a greater brotherhood in the church (Vita consecrata, §60). Review for Religious I would like to comment on these four relationships and on their prophetic implications. Brothers of the Lord Whatever else we may do, whatever our ministry, the rela-tionship that defines and shapes religious life is our relationship with the Lord. This must be the first and deepest of all our rela-tionships. Jesus says to the disciples, "You are my friends, if you do what I command you . I call you friends because I have made known to you everything I have learned from my Father" On 15:14-15). Our relationship with the Lord, our friendship with God, is rooted in knowing and doing what we have learned from the Lord. To be brothers of the Lord is to know the ways of God and to do what the Lord asks of us. To be brothers of the Lord, we must be people of discernment and people of fidelity. We must probe God's will ever deeper and then faithfully put into action all that we discover. We must be skilled in seeing God in all and in seeing all in God. We thereby proclaim and live the intimate closeness of God to this world, even when global events or personal experi-ences provide no evidence or apparently contrary evidence of such intimacy. Brothers with One Another Everything we say about ourselves and about our life together will not be authentic if we do not live in such a way that our com-mon life is marked by love, mutual care and concern, courtesy, hospitality, and a genuine interdependence. Jesus tells us that we will be recognized as his followers if we love one another (see Jn 13:3 5). Note that Jesus does not say what we would be recognized as, if we did not love one another. Could we become completely invisible, thereby rendering impossible any kind of recognition? To be brothers with one another in a religious community is much more than merely getting along; it must go beyond friendly tolerance. There are two important elements here. First, to be brothers with one anothdr is to recognize and accept that we do not live this way of life alone. We need one another to be who we say we are and to do what we say we do by our very vocation. There must be a mutuality and an interdependence among us by which we September-October 1999 Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" strengthen and support one another. Second, to be brothers with one another is apostolic. The quality of our life together commu-nicates something about God's presence and activity in our world. In some areas of the world, we may be the only witnesses people see, the only evidenc~ they have that God is alive and active in their lives and in their culture and society. Brothers to the People Our very title brothers excludes distinctions among us. Nationality, culture, ethnic heritage, education, ministry, natural and acquired skills--all these are gifts that are to unite us, not dif-ferences to be made into walls of division among us. So too our presence among the people must communicate without compro-mise that we make no distinctions, that we welcome and are hos-pitable to all people. To be brothers to the people also influences the way we approach ministry, whatever our ministry. Our apostolic activity among the people must be a model and a means of unity for them. We must be skilled in guiding people to work together, to appre-ciate one another's gifts, and to share those gifts with one another for the good of all. Regardless of the specific nature of our min-istry, this task of facilitating union among the people is a primary aspect of our mission and message as brothers in the church and society today. Brothers for the Church There are many unnecessary distinctions in our church today. Among the most dominant are those between women and men, between lay and ordained persons. Our presence and activity in the church must strive to communicate a perspective free of the kinds of distinctions that can and sometimes do deteriorate into divisions. To be brothers for the church is to live and proclaim, in St. Paul's terms, "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male 6r female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). We know it was a risk for St. Paul to preach such a message two thousand years ago. In truth, it is still a risk to preach this today precisely because people can and do establish their identity in distinctions. Any message that seeks to Review for Religious remove distinctions tends to disrupt that identity, thereby stimu-lating responses that range from simple admonition to sharp antag-onism. I believe it is part of the mission of brothers in the church today to preach and to live such a message regardless of the con-sequences. Doing What Brothers Do What I have said so far pertains to being brothers, pertains to our basic identity as lay religious in the church and society. To be brothers of the Lord, with one another, to the people, and for the church will have a definite influence on our doing what brothers do. Doing what brothers do is the prophetic dimension of our life as lay religious. In terms of these four basic relationships, what do we do as brothers? Through our relationship to the Lord, we demonstrate the possibility of living the example of Jesus in today's world. Jesus' example of selflessness, of compassion, of service to others is not popular today. We observe the sustained promotion and tenacity of an individualism which condones and constructs self-contained and closed styles of life that do not readily respond to the influence or needs of others. The danger is that Jesus' example could be placed on the shelf of items that are no longer realistic or useful for our world: items that are fine for museums of ancient artifacts, but not really relevant for everyday life in contemporary culture. To do what brothers do is a clear expression of the importance, necessity, and urgency of Jesus' example for today. Through our relationship with one another, we demonstrate the possibility of love and reconciliation. In a world where self-ishness and self-containment become the ways of relating to one another, love and reconciliation become ever more rare. Personal histories, past mistakes, and present weaknesses become conve-nient excuses for not reaching beyond ourselves to love, to for-give, to be reconciled with others. And yet it is only through our humanity--with our histories and mistakes and weaknesses--that we can love one another. To do what brothers do means commit-ting ourselves to love and forgive and reconcile, and to take up whatever means are necessary to live that commitment every day. Through our relationship to the people, we demonstrate the possibility of living in peace and unity. The rich diversity repre-sented in social, political, religious, cultural, and ethnic differ- September-October 1999 Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" ences is too often used as a basis for creating divisions among peo-ple. And as the barriers supporting those divisions become stronger, mutual destruction appears more effective and efficient than coop-erative dialogue. Conflict, violence, war then become the usual ways of dealing with differences in life. To do what brothers do means making every effort to show that the differences among people are graces and blessings to be celebrated, not burdens and bothers to be shunned. Through our brotherly relationship with the church, we demonstrate the possibility of living and ministering in equality. This equality is not uniformity; there can and must be distinctions among the many necessary ministries within the church. The important and imperative idea here is to help maintain the link between those many ministries and the common good of the Body of Christ. To create and then vindicate situations in which peo-ple are excluded or treated slightingly is not acceptable. Ignoring such situations is also not acceptable. To do what brothers do means pointing out injustices and inconsistencies--in our society, but most especially in our church. We will not be popular for iden-tifying such realities, but to neglect doing so would contradict what we profess to be and to do. The Haunting Question Male lay religious are often confronted with the simple but haunting question "What is a brother?" Brothers themselves, as well as other church ministers, struggle with formulating a satis-factory response. I do not believe that any response, however elo-quent and theologically sound, will ever be satisfactory. Indeed, it cannot be. If being a brother and doing what brothers do is at heart a matter of relationship, then our identity as brothers will be found in our actions, in our witness and our way of relating to the Lord, to one another, to others, and to the church. Thus, the only worthy answer to "What is a brother?" is simply "Watch us! Watch what we do, how we behave. Observe our love, care, concern, com-passion. Watch us. Then you will see and know what being a brother is." Are we willing to make that response? Will the integrity, consistency, and quality of our lives withstand such close scrutiny? The precedent for this response has been established already. When asked by John the Baptist's disciples, "Are you the one who Review for Religious is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus responds, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the leper~ are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them" (Mt 11:3- 5). Jesus' response invites a simple and direct method: observe, then report what you see. Could it be that we work to enhance the eloquence of our language and the soundness of our theology in responding to "What is a brother?" because we hesitate to say "Watch us"? Obviously, to invite close observation is to imply an integrity and a quality of life that are beyond question or com-promise. Writing to the Corinthians, St. Paul is boldly explicit in continuing Jesus' precedent: "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Co 11:1). In fact, no less than seven times does Paul make this recommendation in his correspon-dence with the early Christian commu-nities (see 1 Co 4:16 and 11:1; Ph 3:17 and 4:19; 1 Th 1:6; 2 Th 3:7 and 9). We might wince at the bluntness--almost arrogance--of his recommendation. Nevertheless, the only way to avoid rel-egating Jesus' example to the realm of theoretical ideals is by a practical demonstration of it. Only a living example can accomplish that demonstration effectively. Brothers must live in such a way that we can make this Pauline recommendation with confidence and integrity. If we believe that our God is incarnational, then the example of our own lives must be the first of all our responses to the simple question "What is a brother?" Again, we must ask ourselves about our willingness and ability to make that response. Any other response, whether from an individual religious or froma general chapter, will fall short of the convincing and transforming power inherent in a living example. Being brothers and doing what brothers do involve decisions regarding a belief and a behavior. The belief is that the example of our brotherhood, as a reflection of Jesus' own, is necessary for society and for the church today--and tomorrow. The behavior is our effort to follow Jesus with integri.ty, simplicity, and fidelity. Through our brotherly .relationship with the church, we demonstrate the possibility Of living and ministering in equality. September-October 1999 Giallanza * "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" This belief and behavior must stem from deliberate decisions, for they will not and cannot come into being by themselves. If they do not find explicit expression in our daily lives and activities, then they do not exist at all. If we cannot invite the world to "Watch us" when we are asked about the identity and meaning of our life as brothers, then we have only words. Such words die in thin air without living exam-ples to certify their truth. Action verifies articulations; witness confirms words. When action and witness are separated from artic-ulations and words, credibility is compromised. To speak and to act, together, must constitute our effort to define who and what we are as religious brothers and, being brothers, what we do. All else is shifting sand. All else contributes to the continued invisibility of religious brothers within the church and society. Being and Doing To be brothers and to do what brothers do are inseparable. We must strive for consistency in our life so that what we per-ceive and profess ourselves to be and what we do become a single reality. Otherwise we compromise the quality of any prophetic presence and activity we would have in the world. To be and to do as brothers of the Lord, we must be men of integrity, firmly rooted in the Lord. To be and to do as brothers with one another, we must be men of communion, who willingly choose the interdependence necessary for a healthy and whole life. To be and to do as brothers to others, we must be men of mis-sion, who love others through compassion and service. To be and to do as brothers for the church, we must be men willing to pro-vide challenge, whose commitment to the church enables us to question its inconsistencies even as we continue to love it. In the Book of Genesis, the challenge confronting Joseph is both to reveal his identity and to witness to the truth of that rev-elation. He begins with a simple invitation, "Come closer to me." He invites closer scrutiny and careful listening, confident that he will be recognized and accepted for who and what he claims to be. We religious brothers, by the very nature of our vocation, must extend the same invitation in all our relationships. The witness of our integrity, our sense of communion and mission, and the chal-lenge we present will confirm or contradict the truth of what we claim to be and profess to do. Vita consecrata says that brothers participate in the "mission of proclaiming the gospel and bearing witness to it with charity in everyday life" (§60). Such proclamation and such witness are responsibilities we bear and services we provide. They are the heart of our invitation to "Watch us"--to "Come closer" and see ¯. "I am your brother." Questions for Personal and Communal Reflection These brief reflections need fi~rther refinement from the particular cultures and contexts in which brothers live and minister around the world today. In fact, the most sound theologies of religious brotherhood today will conte from within those cultures and contexts. Generic theologies of religious life, by attempting to speak to everyone, run the risk of speaking to no one. As we continue to reflect on and discuss various dimensions of our religious life, we must remain ever attentive to the specific culture and context in which we live and minis-ter. The following questions are offered as a starting point for individuals and for communities. For us as brothers of the Lord, what aspects of Jesus' example and teaching are particularly striking and significant, given the heritage of our religious congregation and the particular culture in which we live and minister? As brothers with one another, what do we desire people to see in us through our life together? What do we believe our wimess communicates to people? What evidence do we have to support that belief?. As brothers to the people, what means do we use to foster peace and unity among them? How do our ministries serve towards dialogue and reconciliation? As brothers for the church, what efforts do we or could we make in our local area to emphasize the equality of persons within the church? With what specific challenges does our heritage as a congregation con-front the church? In which aspects of our life are we confident in saying "Come closer"? In which aspects of our life fire we hesitant about saying "Watch us" in response to people's questions about our vocation? What are the principal gifts we bring as brothers to this cultural set-ring? What are the principal social and ecclesial challenges confronting us today as brothers in this cultural setting? What is the most attractive quality about our religious life in this cultural setting? What is least attractive? What means would be effective in the particular culture where we live and minister for educating the people and the church about the voca-tion of brothers? In addition to the witness of our life, what are effective strategies for promoting vocations to religious brotherhood today? Septentber-October 1999 PAUL BEDNARCZYK Religious Brothers: One Vocation Director's Perspective Religious congregations of brothers can no longer ignore the question of new membership. The "vocation crisis" is staring us in the face. We can debate more effective governmen-tal structures, we can plan new mission orientations, and we can write more documents about solidarity with the poor, but, unless new members join our communities, what will it all mean fifty years from now? The membership crunch seems to be hitting home more now than ever. In many dioceses and religious congregations, the vocation question has been moved to the forefront. At their annual national meeting three years ago, the United States bishops agreed on a comprehensive strategy for vocations to the priesthood and reli-gious life. In June 1998 the U.S. bishops' committee on vocations sponsored a national symposium that had an overwhelming atten-dance. In addition, both the men's and women's religious leader-ship conferences--the Conferences of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM), the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), and the Conference of Major Superiors of Women Religious (CMSWR)--are exploring how leadership corporately can be more active in promoting the priesthood and religious life. For the past thirty-some years, we have quietly and sometimes unconsciously watched more brothers leave our corigregations than Paul Bednarczyk CSC, of his congregation's eastern province, first published this article in Horizon, a journal for vocation directors. His address is Congregation of Holy Cross; 85 Overlook Circle; New Rochelle, New York 10804. Review for Religious enter them. We prayed for vocations, and many communities even maintained their commitment to a full-time vocation director, but few prospects have joined our prenovitiate programs. Although over the years there was a general concern about the lack of new members, still--because numbers of brothers remained in the "work force"--we felt somewhat comfortable regarding our num-bers. These days are now gone. Our congregations are aging, men are retiring, and fewer members remain in full-time ministry. Our younger members continue to be few. We must confront the new-membership question. Much has been written about societal factors that create a cli-mate unfavorable to religious vocations. Family and neighborhood structures are no longer what they once were. We are witnessing changing definitions of family: single-parent homes, blended fam-ilies, children being raised by gay or lesbian couples. In addition, physical, sexual, drug, and alcohol abuse have greatly impacted the trust and stability that families need. Individualism and mate-rialism have consumed our American culture. Authority is looked upon cynically and institutions are considered suspect. Combine that with young people's inability or reluctance to make commit-ments, and religious vocations become an uphill battle. The changing face of the American Catholic and the tension between Catholic teaching and American values also have an impact on the numbers of religious vocations. The rising multi-culturalism of U.S. Catholics challenges us. Many Hispanic peo-ple continue to abandon the Catholic faith of their ancestors for fundamental and evangelical groups. Polls claim that many Catholics believe that the church's teaching on contraception, homosexuality, and premarital sex is outdated. Although young adults in general do not see the difference between clerical and religious celibacy, they will say that celibacy is the primary rea-son why they would not be a priest or a religious. Likewise, given our democratic values, American Catholics must reconcile them-selves with a church that does not function democratically. I believe it important to mention these factors at the outset because, although they are beyond our control, they have an effect on our religious-vocation promotion. In this paper I intend to share my own reflections on why fewer people are choosing to be brothers. Although I belong to the Congregation of Holy Cross, I have shared some of these ideas with brothers in other religious congregations. We are not alone in our struggle. After five years Septentber-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Religious Brothers as vocation director, I offer thoughts I have gleaned from numer-ous vocation talks I have heard and given, from many meetings and discussions withadolescents and young adults, from direct-ing men and women on both personal and group discernment retreats, and from my association with other vocation directors both regionally and nationally. 492 A Question of Visibility We religious brothers are invisible. To put it more precisely, people generally have no clear idea about who or what we are. I say this neither cavalierly nor despairingly, but as simple truth. Part of this is the reality that we are fewer in number. In the United States, according to thd 1998 official Catholic Directory, the number of religious brothers dropped in 1997-98 by 178, resulting in a national total of 6115. Of course, many of these are retired or infirm and therefore no longer engaged in part- or full-time min-istry- and so are even more invisible. Brothers in teaching congregations cannot assume that the freshmen entering our high schools in September know what a religious brother is. Even though some come to us from Catholic grade schools, many have not met a religious brother or sister and know little or nothing about religious life. If they do have a min-imal understanding oic our life, most likely their perceptions have been influenced by what they see in the media, which is often dis-torted, stereotyped, and scandal ridden. Their parents, too, a generation that had greater exposure to religious in classrooms and parishes, have limited understandings of religious life. They may have romanticized notions of who we once were or, on the other hand, may endlessly repeat stories of brothers and sisters maintaining uncompromising discipline and inflicting harsh corporal punishments. In addition, people are con-fused by the polarization of the various religious lifestyles. How do lay people find a balance among various extreme "liberal" and "conservative" positions taken by religious men and women? How do they understand community when the religious they know live in private apartments or are in scattered communities of twos and threes? Although there are justifications for various places on the spectrum, the average persons in the pews just do not understand. I think it safe to say that they are confused, just as we are at times. The question of visibility is more complex than the reality of Review for Relig~o~!s fewer members. It is, I believe, also related to a greater issue in the church. Without a doubt, within the past twenty years our church has become increasingly clerical. At a time when there are fewer and fewer priests, lay religious life is not always promoted in the church as enthusiastically or emphatically as it could be. In litur-gies all of us have heard public prayers for vocations to the priest-hood and privately wondered why we were not also praying for vocations to the religious life. I do not think these omissions are intentional. When I have respectfully asked presiders to include in their future prayers of petition a mention of an increase in candi-dates for religious life as well, I was usually met with sincere apolo-gies and a response such as "To tell you the truth, I didn't even think of it." Such admitted forgetfulness is disarming, but the response remains a telling one. Another reality is that many bishops and priests are "gun shy" of religious men and women. Since many of their dealings with us have been confrontational and neg-ative, it seems they may be choosing to either ignore or avoid us in order to avoid future hostile situa-tions. Likewise, we religious have suffered from our own antago-nisms with the clergy and the hierarchy, and we too may choose to either ignore or avoid them. My point is not to say that we are right and they are wrong, but rather that stereotypes and false generalizations held by either party only lead to further break-downs in communication and in understanding one another's voca-tions in the church. If we assume an "us and them" mentality, we add to the divisiveness that already exists here and there in our church, and it is the church, the people of God, that ultimately suffers from such internal strife. To pin the blame of our invisibility solely on the church would be both unjust and inaccurate. We brothers must own the fact that some of us have chosen to be invisible. In the neighborhoods of some of our communities, I would conjecture that most of the neighbors are unaware that there is a religious community of men living on their block. Instead of participating in the life of our local parish community, some of us have chosen instead to par-ticipate anonymously in a nearby parish that may provide a better liturgy or choir. At a time when many teaching congregations have made concerted and successful efforts at connecting the mission of We religious brothers are invisible. September-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Religious Brotbers their schools with the mission and charism of their community, some brothers choose not to participate in school activities, often to the dismay and wonder of lay colleagues, parents, and alumni. Although reasons for these examples may be acceptable to us, we must realize that such choices promote further invisibility and anonymity, something which we brothers can no longer afford. Without a public presence, our hope for future vocations is dim. The old clich~ has much truth: "Out of sight, out of mind." Not being part of the clerical hierarchy has given us a unique freedom that is comfortable. I heard one brother say about the hierarchy: "It's good that they forget about us--this way they leave us alone!" We come to a religious community not to dis-tance ourselves from the existing tensions or authority in the institutional church, nor to find a supportive haven for our anger against church authority, nor, for that matter, to promote our own church agenda. As consecrated religious we are men of the church and in the church. Our vocation by its very nature calls us to deepen our baptismal commitment and our relationship with the people of God. The faithful see us and look to us for who and what we are: men who through our vows have consecrated ourselves totally to God and to service within the church. They expect us to be integral to the church: when they do not see this, they are surprised and confused. If we are going to welcome men into our communities, I believe that we must all realistically deal with our feelings and beliefs about the church of today--not the church of yesterday or tomorrow, but the church of today in all of its glory and weakness. Generational Differences The majority of us have lived through the social, political, and ecclesial turbulence of the 1960s. We experienced the devastation of political assassinations, the power of the people in working for justice, and the sense of betrayal and shame that resulted from Watergate. We mourned the violence and casualties of the Vietnam War and of the racial wars that were erupting in our city streets. We underwent our own personal and spiritual transformations after the drastic changes set in motion by the Second Vatican Council. Suddenly our equilibrium was shaken. We experienced a shift in values from uniformity to diversity, from authoritarianism to collegiality, from commonality to individuality. Review for Religious We dealt with these dramatic events and changes in a variety of ways. Some simply left religious life. It seems to have been a good decision for some, once they discovered they .may have become brothers for the wrong reasons. On the other hand, oth-ers left and we still wonder why. Regarding these departures we still grieve. And, into the bargain, some of us have stayed. What are our reasons for remaining? After these radical shifts in church, society, and culture, has our dependence upon God and one another deepened, or have we learned instead to place more trust in our own self and in our material security? Have our vows increased our joy and appreciation for life, or have they regretfully only made our life burdensome? Do we face the uncertainty of the future with excitement and hope, or with cynicism and despair? If we are to witness to an attractive lifestyle option, we must answer these questions honestly and reexamine our own commitment to religious life. Unlike many of us who were brought up with the order and constancy of a triumphal church, our young people today have experienced conflicting messages from a church in transition, and they seek, simply, truth. In the face of New Age spirituality and watered-down Christianity, there are those who, in their desire to know more of what it means to be Catholic, resort to tangible, traditionally Catholic symbols. I find it fascinating that Exposition and Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament is making a comeback on college campuses. In the midst of the noise and rush of their aca-demic lives, students appreciate the hour of silence in the pres-ence of Mystery. Similarly, young adults are rediscovering the virtue of Mary, and have found the rosary to be an attractive form of prayer that is identifiably Catholic. Some ofos may be quick to categorize these young people as conservative or wacky, but these are students who volunteer weekly at local soup kitchens and par-ticipate in "alternative" spring breaks with Habitat for Humanity. They are also class officers, athletes, and students on the dean's list. As I have discovered, our younger people defy the neat and tight boxes in which we tend to categorize them. Have our VOWS increased our joy and appreciation for life, or have they regretfully only made our life burdensome? Septentber-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Relig4ous Brothers To live with the ideals, hopes, and dreams of the young is inconvenient and at times even uncomfortable. In my meetings with men who are exploring a vocation, I have found that it is not because of ministry, education, or social-justice convictions that they are drawn to religious life. Our church has evolved to where, if this were their primary desire, they could eas-ily do this in a Catholic institution as laypersons. They are com-ing to us first and foremost for the religious life itself. To live in the secular world as a committed Christian espousing Catholic values is difficult for them. They admit their need for a community of like-minded individuals who could strengthen their love for God and their Catholic convic-tions. They are not looking for just a nice group of people who do good work. They are looking for men who know and can lead them to God and who can give them a sense of hope in a world that has become increasingly pessimistic and destructive. They want to pray together, share their faith, and bring the Good News to people through their ministry. They acknowledge the Eucharist as central to our faith, and they have devotion to it. Since they often come from an unchurched, nontraditional back-ground, they seek structure and definition. From our community perspective, that is quite an order to fill! Some of you who are reading this are probably wincing and saying, "I thought we got away from that years ago!" To put it simply, I believe we find ourselves in the middle of a generation gap. Thirty years ago some brothers retained their habits, sat in their pews, and looked with distaste upon those who wore jeans and colored shirts and prayed on throw pillows. They thought that, for sure, religious life was quickly going down the tubes. The younger brothers, however, challenged the older brothers to renew their zeal for religious life by adapting to a different lifestyle, one that was based more on shared expressions of faith and on more interpersonal, communal living. Likewise, the younger members were taught by the elders to appreciate the tradition of our life and consequently were enriched by their fidelity to their vows in the face of change. Since some of us have lost a younger generation in our con-gregations, we have forgotten what it is like to be challenged by the young. The lively community dynamic that occurs with the mix- Review for Religious ture of generations--the elderly, the middle-aged, the young--does not happen in many of our local communities. As a result, many of us have grown comfortable with one another and in our life together. For the majority of us, the mutual challenges and exchanges that we all remember from our earlier years and that occur naturally between the young and old do not happen anymore. At forty-one years old, I am still considered one of the "young" brothers in my community. I realize that much of my religious life has been lived with men older than myself. Although I am thank-ful for the benefit of their example and wisdom, as I enter my own midlife I realize that I have been deprived of living with the con-tagious energy and enthusiasm of much younger religious. I know that I need at times to be challenged to think in new ways and to experience life differently. Most of us are middle-aged or older. If we are to have a newer generation following us, we must--even if it becomes increasingly more difficult as we age--be open to the renewal of our basic val-ues: prayer, community, and lifestyle. Ironically, those who are considering religious life look for deeper community experiences while some veterans of thirty or forty years say they are tired of the routine and demands in community. How do we bridge this gap? To live with the ideals, hopes, and dreams of the young is incon-venient and at times even uncomfortable, but I know of no other way. Although youthful idealism may need some tempering, we must admit that at least it is refreshing. We have now become the "older" brothers of yesterday, and, like the older ones of thirty years ago, we too are invited to new ways of thinking and being as we look to the next generation in religious life. I do not believe that age has to be a deterring factor. When I hosted discernment retreats for prospective candidates at our retire-ment facility, I would invite three of our elderly brothers to tell their vocation stories. The combined witness of almost two hundred years of faithful religious life is better than any vocation brochure I could ever design! Their authentic fulfillment in Holy Cross and their continuing joy and vitality were always evidence to these interested men that this life can be lived and can be lived well. Our young people look to their elders for inspiration. They hunger for the wisdom that comes from living a prayerful and reflective life with God. If, however, they see stagnation, apathy, and cynicism, they are left disillusioned and wanting. For many of us, our lives as religious have been deeply enriching and grace filled, and yet some September-October 1999 Bednarczyk * ReligiousBrotbers of us are reluctant to share these experiences with each other. We underestimate at times the power of our stories. In many religious congregations it has been the tradition to respond to "the signs of the times" and to the contemporary needs of the church. I maintain that we need to continue this spirit of openness not only to our mission and ministries, but also to our religious lives as well. The Answer Is in the Present I do not claim to have the answers for the future. To be truth-ful, my worry is not for the future, nor is it for the past. It is the present that is my concern. We can only theorize about the future, as we can only reminisce about the past. Such intellectual exer-cises tend to distance us from the responsibility of making neces-sary choices about our lives and our community in the present. In general, given the societal changes and challenges discussed above, some recerit shifts in our culture seem to coalesce with our lives as religious brothers. For example, our society displays a renewed interest in spirituality. Celebrities from Oprah to Madonna have made daily meditation chic again! With the pro-liferation of self-help and support groups for every issue imagin-able, people long for connection and belonging. They desire "to share their story" and to be validated by a group. Corporations are supportive of community service, and some school systems have included service components in their curricula. As a result, volunteerism is at an all-time high. Ironically, many authors are making lots of money with their best-selling books on how to sim-plify one's lifestyle. It would seem that religious brotherhood would somehow fit into this picture. Our life is a wonderful secret that needs to be shared more now than ever before. As religious brothers we bring, I believe, a special gift to the church. Our faith teaches us about a God whose love is uncondi-tional and whose mercy is unlimited. If faithfully and genuinely lived, our vows attest that fulfillment is to be found more in the transcendent than in the transitory. Where division and broken relationships characterize many families and marriages, our com-mitment to community life, despite its inherent struggles, myste-riously witnesses to welcome, order, acceptance, and equality. I have read many books and articles detailing futures for reli-gious life in temporary vowed commitments, lay associate mem- Review for Religious bership, satellite communities, blended communities, and so forth. All of that makes for interesting reading and good discussion, but I return to the question: What about now? How do we live now the vows we professed, however many years ago? Do we do so with the passion, zeal, and love of our early years? I do not believe that the answer to the challenges of our pre-sent situation is as simple as the reconstruction of past external structures. Our lives are much more complex today than they were thirty years ago. No one can deny that our traditional structures served us well, considering the church and spirituality of the time, but it would be naive to expect the former ways to meet our con-temporary needs. We can romanticize about the past, but we know that it is impossible to turn the clock back. I am, however, not convinced--at least in my own congrega-tion- that we are at present compelled to create new models and forms of vowed religious life. We do not need to reinvent the wheel. We need to insure that the wheel we already have is on the right track. Besides, since Vatican II, a number of experimental lay and religious communities have already been formed, imple-menting exciting new models of lifestyle and commitment. How they will fare in the future, only time will tell. I am convinced that as brothers we need to reclaim who and what we are. We are men of the church vowed to a life of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. We commit ourselves to a life of prayer and mission with each other in community. Given today's society and culture, these core values are what make us countercultural. Our vows are meant to be lived joyfully, with hope. This life was meant to be lived in relationship with God and with one another. Our challenging times invite us to probe and to enter more deeply into the essence of our vows and the mysterious grace that comes with this life. I believe in the gift of religious life, and particularly in the gift of religious brotherhood. I want a future for us because I believe the church would b6 lacking without us. Knowing how much I have been enriched by my own vocation to Holy Cross, I desire to share this gift with a new generation of religious. I am sure that the majority of members in our communities desires the same, but to do this requires conversion and a courageous open-ness to the Spirit that speaks to us today--and not yesterday and not tomorrow. [--z~00 September-October 1999 AVIS CLENDENEN II On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming journeying It has been sixteen years since I requested and received a dispensation from my religious vows. The following reflection explores--from ethical, psychological, and theological perspectives-- the experience of malting and breaking promises and leaving the vowed religious life. Principally I will be drawing upon the ethical con-siderafions of Sister Margaret Farley RSM, the psycho-logical insights of Dr. Carl Rogers, and the theological depth of Father Karl Rahner SJ. These pages reveal a slice of an experience shared by many--that is, the mak-ing of a religious commitment, living in a vowed reli-gious community for years, developing bonds of trust and friendship, experiencing a crisis of fidelity, discov-ering the personal inability/choice to sustain the orig-inal commitment, and ultimately breaking the commitment and leaving religious life. A suspicion I had as I thought about examining the psychology and theology behind the making and break-ing of promises was that Rogers and Rahner had more than their first names in common. I sensed they shared a fundamental understanding of the human person, the Avis Clendenen PhD, associate professor of religious stud-ies and director of the Pastoral Ministry Institute, teaches pastoral theology and ministry at Saint Xavier University in Chicago, where she can be reached: 3700 West |03rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Revie~v for Religimts human dilemma, and the graced and flawed human quest of becom-ing whole and free. The following reflection reveals some signif-icant connections between Rogerian psychology and Rahnerian theology and offers a way of viewing the painful process of leave-taking and becoming. The painful and hopeful contours of this all-too-familiar experience can be traversed again in openness to the possibility of deeper revelations about the choices we make that sustain our word of love. Sixteen years from my departure after a thirteen-year commitment gives me perspective and a desire to return and examine the process of making promises, breaking promises, and becoming. In the fall of 1969 at nineteen years of age I entered the Sisters of Mercy. My letter of request to enter was all of two paragraphs composed by a nineteen-year-old touched and transformed, as late teens can be, by the turbulent events of the 1960s: My reason for choosing religious life as my way of life is because this in the only life that makes sense to me, as an individual. I want to express my life as a commitment of love to God and His Church. I am not quite sure why there is an attraction to the Mercy order in particular, but I believe my potential for giving and receiving, of freedom and ful-fillment, lie within this community. By the time I would profess my final vows in 1978, all refer-ences to God in the masculine pronoun were to be stricken from my vocabulary. By 1978 1 would be a graduate of the Jesuit School of Theology, having been the first woman admitted to its master-of- divinity program. Throughout the 1970s I struggled with the weight of a patriarchal church, including the graces and conflicts surrounding the inclusion of women in all ministries of the church. I would, over the expanse of years, come to greater clarity as to my "attraction" to the Sisters of Mercy as women of valor and vision, with a deepening sense of gratitude for the reciprocity of our rela-tionship. The issues of freedom and fulfillment became bemus-ing, and the turbulent times never did seem to abate. At thirty-three years of age, thirteen years after my entrance and less than four years after my final profession, I received a dis-pensation from my vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. The following are excerpts from the letter I wrote to the provincial administrator, initiating the formal leave-taking process: To try and summarize all the spiritual and psychological investigations I have done would be an injustice to all that has September-October 1999 Clendenen ¯ On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming gone into this decision. To say too little would be an injus-tice to the quality of relationship I have shared as a Sister of Mercy throughout these years. I feel great pain as I accept responsibility for breaking my promises. But it was the pain of remaining in religious community that finally made the decision. I have asked myself again and again about the truth and integrity of the final commitment professed in 1978. That moment expressed the insight and honesty that was available to me; and while only four years ago, it's been a lifetime. In the months I have lived alone, I have read all the journals from my thirteen years as a Sister of Mercy. I saw the patterns of my struggles repeated year upon year. I read and remembered delightful times in community. My loneli-ness lines many pages. Notes from numerous retreats reminded me of my love for God. And, oh, the growing rage at the institutional church as it demeaned me and our efforts for women's voice and body to be celebrated all places, including the altar. I do not believe that in asking for a dispensation from my religious vows I am walking away from the vision of Catherine McAuley, the works of mercy, the body of Christ, or the commitment with feminists to liberate ourselves from the patriarchy. I am stepping away from a vowed relationship among you. I promised to persevere for life. I believe I per-severed until there .was no more life for me. I am so very sorry. I do not look for understanding, I~ut I will always expect compassion for that is why we bear our name. For the compassion that has been shown me and I have shared with you, for the years of service given expres-sion to as a Sister of Mercy, for the treasured moments and persons, I will always be grateful. I remain a believer and a daughter of Catherine McAuley. I hold now with courage and trepidation her legacy, my Bible, and I turn a corner. And trust. To Give One's Word Yale University Professor of Christian Ethics and Sister of Mercy Margaret Farley's tough thinking on the meaning of fidelity and its claim of obligation form an important frame of reference in analyzing whether one has the moral sanction to end a com-mitment. Sister Margaret Farley wrote her book on commitment in the late 1980s, when the permanency of commitments in American marriages teetered at a fifty-percent divorce rate and when "defection" from the priesthood and religious life in the Review for Religious American Catholic Church continued to deplete the ranks of ordained and vowed Catholic ecclesial leaders. For many years I successfully avoided Margaret Farley's 1986 book Personal Commitments: Beginning. Keeping. Changing. Research for this article inevitably led me back to her work and the challenges to think hard about why we give our word in mak-ing commitments, why we are obliged to keep them, and under what circumstances we may be morally released from them. Farley suggests that the rise of the human-potential movement served to shift the goals of many from the challenges of permanent commit-ment, fidelity, and responsibility, toward the increasing warrant of the call for per-sonal growth and self-actualization. It was as if these two venues for being and becoming were mutually exclusive. Those who had previously interpreted their life in terms of a religious vocation began to claim the. need to transfer voca-tion from one locus to another. "It was not always easy to tell whether these were expressions of faithfulness or of irresponsibility and betrayal."' What does it mean to say you make a promise with a sense of its truth and integrity and then years later suggest that your insights and sense of integrity have changed so signifi-cantly as to justify a breaking of the bonds and a release from obli-gation? Is emotional pain and lack of personal fulfillment sufficient cause to be dispensed fr6m the vows professed in an act of freedom, a free action always given into the hands of an uncertain future? As Farley eloquently explains, commitment has to do with the free action of free persons who give their word as part of them-selves. Commitment m~ans to give my word because that word belongs to me and I freely choose to entrust it to another's keep-ing. In a sense, commitment means to share with one or more per-sons claims on my being there in a promised way with and for them. While my word is "given away," paradoxically I still pos-sess it because it is myself. In commitment we freely take on an obligation to do as we have promised. The motivation for the kind of commitment we are discussing here is always love. "By assuming certain frameworks for love, we Is emotional pain and lack of personal fulfillment sufficient cause to be dispensed from the vows professed in an act of freedom, September-October 1999 Clendenen ¯ On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming commit ourselves to whatever we understand essentially to con-stitute this framework."2 The profession of religious vows to be lived in the mic

Issue 57.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1998. ; f,or relig i ous C~sfian Heritages and Cont~empora~ Living MAY-JUNE 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all wl~o find that the church's rich ¯ heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondeuce with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming $3 Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough°OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Chr~s6an Heritages and Contemporary L~v~ng MAY-JUNE 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents 230 247 responding to the spirit Journey Inward, Journey Outward: ATheology of Call Gregory J. Polan OSB brings together personal experience and patterned scriptural examples in discussing the mystery of vocation. An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating Marie Chiodo DW and Mary Irving SSND set forth a four-stage process used in one province's theological updating. 26O 275 celibacy and sexuality Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life Donald J. Goergen OP considers various aspects of sexuality and celibacy that contribute to a healthily centered religious life. Skills Needed for Celibacy Martin Pable OFMCap focuses on celibacy as a set of behavioral skills by which people can assess their own (and candidates') actual living of the charism. Review for Religious 286 299 finding God The Books That Led Ignatius to God Joseph N. Tylenda SJ presents Ignatius Loyola as an example of spiritual reading bringing about a lifelong conversion. The Desert as Spiritual Landscape Dennis J. Billy CSSR finds in a desert sojourn risk, humbling reality, and whispers of hope. 304 report Women Religious and Sexual Trauma Paul N. Duckro, John T. Chibnall, and M. Ann Wolf present summary data from their extensive survey on this sdrious and sensitive topic and offer some pertinent reflections. departments 228 Prisms 314 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Poverty 320 Book Reviews ~Ylay-June 1998 The Spirit is God's mark of ownership on you. le on a recent visit to South Africa, I noticed how often automobiles have distinguishing num-bers, letters, or symbols painted boldly on their doors and even on their rooftops. I came to realize that these signs are not just expressions of beauty or individuality, but they provide a visible way of claiming ownership and discour-aging carjacking or thievery. St. Paul exhorted the members of his Christian com-munities to rejoice because the Spirit is God's mark of ownership over them. As we celebrate Pentecost in this year dedicated to the Holy Spirit, we may have a certain longing for tongues of fire as a vivid experience of the Spirit's presence and power in our lives. But I wonder whether today we in the Christian community seize the opportunity to welcome the gripping--though common-place-- idea of the Spirit as God's ownership. We own things, but we do not like to think of ourselves as being owned, even by God. We want to think of ourselves as autonomous, free, in charge of our own fate. Sometimes, though, we may admit to ourselves how much we have bought into (or, perhaps more correctly, "been bought by") the values of our culture, the prejudices of our eth-nic groups, and the political assumptions of our times. We are likely owned in many more ways than we care to discover--and we may show it by the way we live! Perhaps, then, we need to work at making our lives belong more visibly to God. Our Pentecost experience may not include rushing wind or fiery tongues, but the presence of the Spirit in our lives is still meant to be--as in Paul's communities-- the mark of God's ownership. Sometimes we too facilely identify the church as a hierarchical church or, more in Review for Religious vogue today, a church of the laity. But the truest reality is that the church is one people assembled, all belonging to the Spirit, marked with God's ownership. Living this reality consciously is part of our personal efforts in preparing for the millennium. Our personal witnessing of this reality is central to our evangelizing efforts, more necessary in the secularizing trends of our times than in Paul's Roman Empire days. What does God's ownership mean for us? God's ownership of us, marked by the presence of the Spirit in our lives, is meant to shine out in our way of acting. The traditional expression is "giving glory to God." Giving glory means that we become trans-parent enough that God and God's life and God's love can shine out through us. For example--to draw from the everyday behav-iors suggested by St. Paul--the way we talk. St. Paul stresses that a person marked by the Spirit speaks only helpful words, words that build up and provide for what is needed. It is how Jesus speaks. What we say should do good for those who hear us. Beyond our words, what can distinguish our dealings with peo-ple- the occasions for God's glory to shine out in us--is our kind-ness and our readiness to forgive. It is how Jesus acted. At a time in our world when massacres of Christians by Christians take place in Rwanda and Burundi, when fellow Christians seek revenge for age-old wrongs in Northern Ireland, when Orthodox, Catholic, and Muslim (all believers in the one God) slaughter one another in ethnic feuds, we can rightly won-der about our welcoming God's Spirit as a mark of God's ownership over us. But let us look into our own mirrors. When everyday human interaction includes ourselves as automobile drivers whose road rage leads us to endanger others, when we "good people" con-tinue to flee from neighborhoods that are in the process of racial integration, when we find ourselves hardened to the reality of abor-tion and assisted suicide, we can question whether we as individu-als and as communities have allowed the Spirit enough welcome to dwell within us, whether God's ownership of us shines out. In an engaging childlike way, St. Paul exhorted the early Christians not to make the Spirit sad. As we celebrate this year specially dedicated to the Spirit, we need to assess whether our Christian living shows forth God's ownership. Or do we make the Spirit sad? David L. Fleming SJ May-June 1998 229 GREGORY J. POLAN Journey Inward, Journey Outward: A Theology of Call 230 As someone who has studied the Scriptures for a number of years, I find reflection on a theology of call particu-larly interesting for several reasons. First, there is much to be said from the perspective of the Scriptures, from Abraham and Moses in the Hebrew Scriptures to Mary and Paul in the Christian Scriptures. Second, as rector of a college seminary for almost a decade, as spiritual direc-tor to both men and women religious over the years, and now as abbot of a Benedictine community, I have been privileged to hear stories of divine in-breaking in the lives of many people--stories as varied as the people who revealed them and as similar as the human nature we all have. The beauty and sacredness of these accounts tell of divine and human communion struggling to express itself in words, yet unable to relate its richness fully. And, third, something within me longs to continue the search for a deeper understanding of my own call and its meaning, past, present, and future. Those who help others discern their call should know well, understand fully, and discover anew the source of their own calling. The vocational story of each person is sacred; it is rich in faith. Our growth in faith should enable Gregory J. Polan OSB, the abbot of Conception Abbey, teaches courses in Scripture at Conception Seminary College and serves on the editorial board of The Bible Today. His mailing address is Conception Abbey; Conception, Missouri 64433. Review for Religious us to see with new eyes what God was choreographing in our first encounters .with the divine. The episodes of divine in-breaking in our own lives should say more to us now than they did thirty, twenty, or ten years ago or maybe just a year ago. The mystery of God's plan in our lives can be a source of strength and hope, of deepened faith and commitment, of renewed zeal and joyful response, of serious reflection and lighthearted humor for us and for others. Thus, the experience of renewing our call can be both a journey inward and a journey outward. I would like to consider some of the major call narratives of the Scriptures from a form-critical perspective, then move to a consideration of their meaning in our own lives by reflecting on their theological significance, and, finally, consider their rele-vance in the lives of candidates who come to us in our roles as vocation directors or directors of formation. Though these remarks are directed primarily to those who help candidates dis-cern a vocation to the ordained ministry or religious life, they may also help all who seek to rediscover the roots of their calling and to discern God's will in their lives. A Form-Critical View of Biblical Call Narratives For at least ten years, biblical scholars have been challeng-ing the practices of the historical-critical method of scriptural exegesis and showing its limitations. Solid scholarship has warned us about paying too much homage to historical criticism. It is not dead; it is just not the god some had made it out to be. Bringing different questions to the text for our topic at hand, I have found form criticism particularly helpful. Form criticism considers the oral transmission of a tradition and attempts to discover the life situation from which it arose. One aspect of form criticism has been neglected: its potential for revealing a theological message in a text. One effort of form crit-ics is to see a common pattern of thought among texts. Such a pattern reveals the manner in which a text unfolds in a topical, nearly thematic, presentation. For example, in laments of the Psalter, the thought pattern is rather consistent: The speaker (1) makes a plea for divine assistance, (2) describes the situation that causes distress and (3) tells God why divine assistance is needed, (4) then expresses a certain trust that God will heed the request, and, finally, (5) makes a promise to God or acknowledges deliv- May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward There are significant repercussions not only for the one being called, but for others as well. erance from other distressing situations. With remarkable con-sistency this pattern runs through the laments of the Psalter. But discovering the pattern is not the place to stop. There is more to be said, particularly on a theological level. What is the theological significance? How is it that our ances-tors in the faith followed such a pattern to express their need for divine assistance? Is there something in the human spirit that rec-ognizes these elements as essential when a person comes before God in a time of need? I suggest that, more than simple ancient conventions, the elements reveal to us something deep in the experience of the human-divine dialogue. The pattern is a perceptive sketch of the mystery of faith found in a particular kind of human expe-rience. "The Form and Significance of the Call Narrad;ces," a 1965 article by Norman Habel of Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, distinguishes a pattern found in several call narratives of the Old Testament: ~ 1. The divine confrontation. God or a divine messenger enters the scene. It is clear that a divine encounter is to take place. 2. The introductory word. A particular preparatory or explana-tory statement sets the scene further. It can be a greeting or a few clarifying words. 3. The commission. Next the person receives a direct command or imperative relating the task that lies ahead. 4. The objection. Invariably, there is a negative. The person shrinks from what seems to be an overwhelming task. 5. The reassurance. God (or the messenger) responds immedi-ately, assuring the person that the task will not have to be accom-plished alone; divine assistance will be on hand. 6. The sign. Though not every call narrative includes a sign, several do. In a sense, the sign continues the assurance of number 5 by guaranteeing that the promise God has made will be carried out. The divine word is faithful. I would like to illustrate the elements of this pattern, first revisiting biblical scenes and then relating them to our own sense of call and our work with candidates for the seminary and religious life.2 Review for Religious The Divine Confrontation (Scene 1) The biblical scene. Key to the significance of the opening scene is that God is breaking into ordinary life in an extraordinary way. The cattle-herder Amos tells of "being snatched away" from car-ing for his herd and being told to "go and prophesy" to neighbors who are at civil war with his own people (Am 7:15). In some mys-terious way the person being called knows that a divine encounter has taken place. The prophet Ezekiel is sitting by the river Chebar in Babylon when he encounters God. He comments, "The hand of the Lord was upon me" (Ezk 1:3). God enters the human scene. A visible manifestation of the divine presence has taken place. Scholars suggest that insistence on direct contact with the divine was seen as necessary for one who stood as mediator between God and other mortal beings) Consistently, the person being called "sees" God or something divine. Isaiah sees "the Lord sit-ting on a throne, high and lofty" (Is 6:1). Jeremiah tells of his experience in "the council of the Lord" (Jr 23:18). When the priests and prophets of the temple say Jeremiah deserves death for his harsh condemnation of the temple, he responds, "The Lord sent me to prophesy against this house and this city all the words you have heard . As for me,here I am in your hands. Do with me as seems good and right to you" (Jr 26:12, 14). The words are not Jeremiah's. He is a mouthpiece for God. What is important for our reflectiofi is that the call scene is of divine origin. And in each case, because God is acting, there are significant repercussions not only for the one being called, but for others as well. The divine confrontation situates an event of great importance for those who hear or read about the one called. Consider the divine confrontation in the call of Mary of Nazareth. At a critical moment in the history of salvation, God enters the scene through an angelic messenger--the divine presence is essen-tial. It signals a turning point, not only for the person receiving the call, but also for others--here, the whole human race. To support the significance of the divine origin and its impact, we need only ask how the Book of Jeremiah ever came to enter the canon of Scriptures. Its message from beginning to end (with rare moments of hope) is gloom and doom, suffering and pain. Why would such a message be reverenced as a measuring rod of the faith of Israel and the church? I suggest it was because of the con-viction that the prophet was visited by God, and the message he Mlay-June 1998 Polan ¯ ~ourney Inward, Journey Outward delivered, harsh and biting as it was, was true. The community of faith deemed it authentic, of divine origin. For the vocation director. Divine intervention is sometimes dif-ficult for us to express in words. Yet it is an important, even essen-tial, experience for each of us to examine. I dare say God is never more clearly God than when we experience divine presence and know we have been called. For Isaiah it was being in the pres-ence of the wholly/Holy Other (Is 6:35). While it need not be a "bolt of lightning," an encounter of "otherness" reveals divine in-breaking. And, if we take the Scriptures as our norm, it is the wholly/Holy Other who has called us. What remains is to dig deep within, to recover the moment or moments, to claim them as sacred, and to struggle to wrap words around what will never be adequately expressed. One of my favorite spiritual writers, Maria Boulding, speaks of divine encounter with eloquence and simplicity: "We live very close to a mysterious presence. God is 'nearer to me than I am to myself,' as St. Augustine put it, but we do not see or understand him. God is utterly mysterious, and strangely gentle. When he makes himself known we are confounded, yet at the heart of our bewilderment there is a sense of recognizing something we have always known. There is nothing else quite like it in our whole experience."4 It has been important for me to return to the moments of my call and see them in their stark simplicity. This return has awak-ened in me both a sense of the seriousness of the divine call in my life and a daily awareness of the divine presence steering me toward fuller, more joyful and faithful responses to everything around me. I have come to see how it was that God called me in my utter weakness, in my fears, in my doubts, in my naivet~, in my immaturity, and even in my sinfulness. God called me beyond those self-absorbing concerns and into new life. And as I con-tinue to return to themoments of God's call, an understanding of the meaning of divine visitation becomes fuller, brighter, and deeper. For the candidate. In A Touch of G~d, Dom Philip Jebb tells a personal story of an experience early in his religious life. It speaks to this point rather well: After a period of almost delirious joy in my praying, I had an experience of annihilation: I felt that I was being sucked into a "black hole." It was a positive experience of noth- Review for Religious ingness. It was the most horrific experience I have ever had: I seemed to be teetering on the edge of becoming nothing. This was not physical, it was not precisely in the mind, it was in the spirit, in the very roots of my being. I went to Dom Leander in a real terror, feeling that at any moment I was going not only out of my mind, but out of existence. And, when I told him of it in words of panic and despera-tion, he replied, "This is marvelous! The best thing that could happen to you; I only wish I were there with you in this." And I said, "If you can say that, then you have no comprehension of what I am talking about." He assured me that he did, and that I was experiencing the infinity and total otherness of God. In prayer we keep making concepts or ideas of God, and then making these into God, but, as we remain faithful to God and God to us, he has to break out of everything that appears to contain him, the bottom has to drop out of the world and the effect appears to be one of annihilation . It was at this time that I wrote a poem which begins, "Wonder is so sudden a gift.''s More than a few times in my experience as spiritual director, as seminary rector, and even now as abbot, someone has come to me in tears with a story similar in its horror but unique in its description. It is important that we be alert to the circuitous and mysterious paths God takes in human experience. Though so often it is God who provides the tender and gentle reminder of divine compassion amidst the assaults on our spirit, here it is the human director who responsively and kindly helps the struggling person understand that encounters with the divine often entail a night like Jacob's--who was afterward renamed Israel (Gn 32:22- 32). But, unless our own experience of the divine is close at hand, we risk missing the signs of a turning point, a moment of grace, a transition, an experience of conversion in the life of the candi-date. The Introductory Word (Scene 2) The biblical scene. The introductory word is important because it establishes a relationship between the human person and God. Here the person's importance before God is made clear. The word to the great unknown prophet of Second Isaiah was a promise of a covenant renewed in comfort and forgiveness (Is 40:1-3). For Mary of Nazareth, God's own delight in her is expressed: you are the "favored one; the Lord is with you" (Lk 1:28). Mary is indeed May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward special among God's people. Jeremiah is told that, before he was formed in his mother's womb, he was set apart to share in a divine mission (Jr 1:5). The introductory word makes the person receptive to the divine word that will come. It says that the divine choice is pre-ceded by divine love.6 The election to a special vocation comes, not because of talent or giftedness first, but out of divine love. Divine delight impels God to call the person to share in the salvific and redemptive plan. Here the word of God informs the person that he or she has a relationship with God that has been and is touched by blessing. Like God's constant and watchful love for Israel through desert wanderings and times of infidelity is the same divine love ever accompanying the recipient of God's call. The divine word is present in fidelity, in the assurance that God's justice--that is, right relationship--has inaugurated communion even before the commission is announced. For the vocation director. Whatever we hear in the Scriptures, even in the most obscure passages, tells us "who we are in rela-tionship to God." As with the introductory word of our call-nar-rative pattern, so the Scriptures constantly tell how God chooses to become one with us in all ages and times. Even in the harsh judgments given to Jeremiah to proclaim, we are reminded that God knows Israel's destruction is a prelude to its being rebuilt and renewed (Jr 1:10). In Hosea's suffering with his unfaithful wife, we are reminded not so much of human infidelity as of God's desire for healing and the restoration of a relationship of mutual intimacy and communion (Ho 2:21-2 3; NRSV). The introductory word or the call narrative is a sacrament of the divine word, the whole of Scripture. It is the font of truth and wisdom that reveals our truest identity. For those of us who are involved in the work of formation and discernment, God's word carl be the surest source of daily nourishment, satisfying and building up an inner vitality. For us who have experienced a call and responded to it, the divine word unfolds an ever deepening realization of "who we are" and "what we are to become" before God. By our attentive listening to the word of God, our awareness of God's voice in our daily lives is heightened and sensitized. A favorite passage of mine which strongly witnesses to such attentive listening comes at the end of the Book of Deuteronomy. As the people stand ready to cross over the .Jordan, their leader Moses says, as part of his final words to them: "This commandment that I enjoin on you today is not too Review for Religious hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, 'Who will go up to heaven for us and get it for us that we may hear it and observe it?' Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, 'Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us and get it for us, so that we may hear it and observe it?' No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart; you have only to carry it out" (Dt 30:11-14). If we choose to be a people of the word, the word will trans-form us by its inherent power. In that power we will come to the deepest sense of our own identity and, importantly, the rich identity of every per-son created by God. For the candidate. In recent years I have been struck by the pastoral sensitivity of one of the members of the hierarchy, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini sJ. In 1979 he was appointed archbishop of Milan. Before that, he had been rector of the Pontifical Biblical Institute (1969-1978) and of the Gregorian University (1978- 1979) in Rome. He is a man of interna-tional reputation as a biblical scholar, a text critic to be exact. He was a member of a team of five text critics (and the only Catholic) that prepared the most up-to-date critical edition of the Greek New Testament, In Milan he inaugurated a program of spiritual renewal for the young adults of the city. He met with them weekly to read and discuss the Scriptures, dealing with a particular book of the Bible or a biblical theme.7 Martini always began with a brief explanation of the texts under consideration; but after this presentation it was time for the young adults to talk, to ask ques-tions, and to pray from the Scriptures--to be formed according to the word of God. I would like to suggest that, in this era after the Second Vatican Council, we use the Scriptures with ever greater convic-tion as our document of faith in the work of formation. From cover to cover the Bible tells us time and time again what I con-sider essential for the experience of formation: (1) our identity in relationship to God, the divine-human relationship moving toward communion; (2) the continuous call to conversion, the need for the sinner to return to God; and (3) the meaning of the paschal mystery, our union with Christ in the experience of suf- The introductory word or the call narrative is a sacrament of the whole of Scripture. 2Vlay-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward fering, dying, and rising to new life. In a time when our candidates suffer deprivation of Catholic culture, we can use the divine word to get them rooted in the reality of God's steadfast love for them and aware of the offer of redemption which is theirs and ours each day. The Commission and the Objection (Scenes 3 and 4) The biblical scene. At the moment when God gives the imper-ative, there is a sharp demarcation between the past and future of the one being called. A new course is being charted. The com-mission from God encapsulates the task that lies ahead. There is a clear sense that the one being commissioned goes in the name of God, as a kind of ambassador--not to give his or her own word, his or her own decision, but God's. The mission is a divine one; and, fittingly, it is the challenge of a lifetime. For Moses, slow of speech, it was to deliver God's command to release the Hebrew slaves. For Amos it was to enter the territory of his enemies and there deliver a condemnatory message. For Isaiah it was to con-tinue speaking God's word, to make the hearts of the people even more sluggish than they were. Mary, the fianc6e of Joseph, was told that she would bear a son who would assume the Davidic throne; she was to be the mother of the Messiah. At this point the narrative moves into a moment of tension. Clearly, the task is beyond the person's immediate or native capa-bilities. The task is so different that the commission becomes life-altering. The cattle-herder Amos will become an orator. The tender of flocks, Moses, is to be a political mediator. The priest Ezekiel will assume the role of a prophet. Because of this mis-sion, life will no longer be as it was. By their words and their lives, those being commissioned will witness to God's inteiwention in the history of their people. It is no exaggeration to say that the commission informs the persons that the call has an impact beyond their own life and will touch the lives of the people to whom they belong. It has an impact on the history of God's peo-ple. These people will be living reminders of what God is doing at what appears to be "the turn of the ages." Two scenes that tell of the impact of the commission on the lives of the prophets stand out in my mind. Isaiah had two sons. Each was given a symbolic name to tell the people what God intended to do. One son was called Shear-yashub (Is 7:3), which Review for Religious means "a remnant shall remain." The other son was called Maher-shalal- hash-baz (Is 8:1), which means "quick the spoil, speedy the plunder." Both names tell of an impending doom. In the Scriptures, names are linked to people's identity and mission. The sons of Isaiah reminded him that he was to tell the nation of Judah, "You are damned"--so life-altering was the call to Isaiah! A second scene comes from the confessions of the prophet Jeremiah. In the prophetic literature we rarely glimpse the prophetic experience; what we are given is the words, the utter-ances of the prophets, In the confessions of Jeremiah, however, we have a rare insight into the challenge this prophet faced. Consider this passage: "O Lord, you have enticed me, and I was enticed; you have overpowered me, and you have prevailed. I have become a laughingstock all day long; everyone mocks me. For whenever I speak I must cry out, I must shout, 'Violence and destruction!' For the word of the Lord has become for me a reproach and deri-sion all day long. If I say, 'I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name,' Then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up within my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot" (Jr 20:7-9). Jeremiah says that the mission entrusted to him has brought him nothing but rejection, hatred, and mockery. So he resolves not to speak the words God gives him. But then that very word becomes a raging fire within him; he cannot but utter the message God has given him. He is impelled and driven to accomplish the mission given to him. Both of these passages supplement the com-mission given to the prophet in the call narrative and help us bet-ter appreciate the demands of God's task. Not surprisingly, the person receiving the commission always shrinks from so enormous a challenge. It is difficult to say with certainty where the objection stems from. Some suggest that humility or a sense of inadequacy is the reason: Who would not shrink from the duty of being God's agent?8 The examples drawn from Isaiah and Jeremiah are, in psychological terms, occasions when a person submerges his or her own ego in order to repre-sent or live for another. We may classify such behavior as some-thing unhealthy and odious, but it nevertheless emerges from the biblical text as an example of the personal dynamics involved in the commission and the subsequent objection. Furthermore, it tells us something of what our ancestors in the faith realized when God made total claim upon their lives. May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward For the vocation director. Most of us could tell a compelling story of how the experience of call or the living-out of that call yanked us from something comfortable into something challeng-ing and new. And yet such life-seasoning in the priesthood or religious life has probably brought us considerable blessing to balance the challenge. But there is another aspect of the commis-sion- objection experience we sometimes take for granted: how the response of one has an impact on the destiny of many. We can, at times, become so caught up in what we are doing or how we are responding that we fail to realize that God is in the midst of our activity and that our work for the gospel is having an effect far more sweeping than we can see or realize. We call this phe-nomenon corporate personality from the perspective of the Hebrew Scriptures, and Body of Christ in the Christian Scriptures. We are more intimately bound to one another than we can com-prehend. As the sin of one affects others, so also does the good-ness of one have a ripple effect. And the Scriptures tell us powerfully how the destinies of many are affected by the response in obedience to God's invitation. In Genesis 12:1 God calls Abram to go from his country, his relatives, and his immediate family to a land that will be pointed out to him. Then in Genesis 12:4 the terse description of his response is potent: "So Abram went as the Lord had told him." The text is concise, not because there was nothing to say about the experience, but because the obedi-ence of one with an unknown future was to be the very founda-tion of a people yet to be created--but it started here. The fiat of Mary is another powerful example: theyes of an unassuming young woman set in motion the final eschatological age, the inaugura-tion of the end times. Reflection on such experience in our own lives reveals how our "journey inward" w!ll direct our "journey outward." Consistently in the Scriptures we see how a call by God sends a person on that inward search to respond, to assess the situation, to weigh the daunting challenge. An affirmative response then sets off another dynamic movement. The inward journey then--by divine design, I believe--attaches a person ever more closely to the human fam-ily, to the faith community, to yet unknown persons who will be touched by a faith-filled fiat. In ways mysterious, we become agents of the divine, touching the lives of others by following the call we have received. For the candidate. Some time ago I was struck by the promo- Review for Religious tion materials of a college seminary which promised its students all kinds of benefits: numerous majors from which to choose, big-city life with its hustle and bustle, and high-tech opportunities. Is this what should attract a candidate to the seminary or a religious community? What occurs to me is that, if we are assisting adult men and women in their discernment of God's call, our biblical tradition tells us that we had better be honest in telling them what the divine in-breaking in their lives will bring. Certainly there are rich benefits in responding to the call. There are joys in God's service that cannot be purchased--they are of divine giving. But real challenges lie ahead demanding personal sacrifice of con-siderable magnitude. Further, there are the "nuts and bolts" of what we mean by vocation, by being called. I have to distinguish between my vocation and my career. In essence, as a Benedictine monk I am called to live under a Rule and an abbot, to live in community and where I witness to the meaning of the paschal mystery. This is my vocation. My pre-vious work as rector of a seminary, as teacher, and other things I do are secondary; they are, for want of a better word, my career. And the works of my community are secondary to the essence of our life together. For those who belong to religious communi-ties, getting back to our roots, understanding our charisms, and witnessing to the reasons why we followed the call of God are essential. Those who come to stay with us as they discern God's call will see who we are from only one perspective, from a limited view. They need to receive honest answers to their questions about religious life. We must not promise them anything other than what the gospel promises. Are they in love with the Word they are called to preach and teach and live? Can they happily encourage all to realize their potential in the community of faith, and so assist in building a church of living stones? Every Christian is called into the paschal mystery. But the call to priesthood or religious life is a unique entry into that mys-tery- not better, but special because of its demands. As a novice, I remember, I had a certain fascination with the person of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and an appreciation for his writings, especially those from the time of his imprisonment and his personal struggle to return to his native land. In Life Together Bonhoeffer writes of the call each baptized Christian receives: "When Christ calls a person, he bids that individual, 'Come and die.'''9 Those three words, "Come and die," are a mighty challenge. In my experi- May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward ence of working with college-age candidates for the priesthood and monastic life, I see within them the desire to be challenged to live life more generously, more radically, and more distinctively. VChat we have to do is capture their zeal, help them direct it in a positive and healthy way, and challenge them to selfless service. The Reassurance and the Sign (Scenes 5 and 6) The biblical scene. The reassurance is integral to the develop-ment of the pattern in the call narratives, and important as a response to the objection which has been given. Notice that the divine response is particular to the protest, emphasizing that God will be dynamically present in the situation and intimately involved in the endeavor. There is something distinctly symbolic in the way objections are answered in God's call to Gideon, Moses, and Jeremiah. When the negative reaction comes with an excuse explaining why they cannot respond affirmatively, God simply says, "I am indeed with you." In this response we see a hint of the divine name YHWH, "I am," that is to say, "I stake my name on it." In the biblica'l tradition, personal names are intimately tied up with identity and mission. A person receives a new name, and with that change comes a shift in both identity and mission. For example, the name Abram means "exalted father"; the name Abraham means "father of a host of nations." The word of reas-surance from God links the divine identity with the human mis-sion, forging a bond of divine commitment to this human person and the task at hand. Of further importance here is the under-standing that, in the divine reassurance, the person who has received God's call is now impelled, not by feeling, not by self-direction, but by the power of the divine word. God has given to the one who has been called not only a word to establish rela-tionship, not only a commission, but also a word of reassurance. On equal footing with the word of commission is the word of reassurance. Sometimes there is a further elaboration to heighten the prominence of the reassurance, namely, a sign. Sometimes a sign is asked for, as in the case of Gideon. At other times, God gives a sign--to Moses, for example, in the form of wonders he per-forms before Pharaoh, Mary was told that her kinswoman Elizabeth, even in her old age, had conceived a son; the one thought to be barren was now in her sixth month. The sign is a Review for Religious complement to the divine word and brings to light the full assur-ance that God will be true to the promise already given. For the vocation director. One of the things which the call nar-ratives do not tell us is how it all worked out in the end. We know nothing of the final days of some who received calls, like Amos and Ezekiel. However, there are a few glimpses of successes and failures in prophetic voca-tions. Isaiah's word of advice to Hezekiah saved the people when the threat of Assyria's armies foretold ultimate doom (Is 36-39). The wrenching vocation of Hosea found confirmation in the healing of a bro-ken marriage bond. But the vocation of Jeremiah brought him to gaze on the ruin of Jerusalem as he was carried off against his will to Egypt (Jr 40:13-43:7); where Israel had been a slave, Jeremiah was now a captive. The life of Jeremiah came to symbolize the broken and fragmented experience of Israel's history. Somehow, in the mystery of both successes and failures, there is the belief that God's mission is being accomplished and the call was authentic. Our work in vocation ministry embraces the joys of seeing candidates move into community life or become productive ordained ministers, the sorrows of seeing a call declined, and the anxieties about individuals' uncertain futures whether in respond-ing to God's calls or in rejecting them. How important it is for us to realize that our work as vocation directors is part of a larger vocation, a broader calling that is still unfolding. I am reminded of another autobiographical sketch from A Touch of God that speaks to the mystery of vocation. Maria Boulding recalls her appoint-ment to work in formation: At about the time the Second Vatican Council ended, I was appointed novice mistress and held the job for nine years. It was a complex experience. In some ways it was joy: there was all the dynamism of the council; I had a feeling of being fully used, of being in a job where I could give all I had to give; there was the work with people, and some lasting friendships were established. But there was also, especially in the later years, a sharp sense of personal inadequacy for the work. I helped a few people, but others not at all, and I ended up with a general sense of failure. I am heartily Somehow, in the mystery of both successes and failures, there is the belief that God's mission is being accomplished. 2Ylay-~ne 1998 glad that I was taken off the job, although at the time it was wrench, a little death . At the same time I had another experience of great significance. This was the work of the English Benedictine Congregation's theological com-mission, on which I served for years in the production of Consider Your Call and in other enterprises which grew from that. This whole experience has been one of the most enriching of my entire monastic life . The result of all this experience has been that in those years and subsequently the greatest friendships of my life have flowered. I have found a capacity for friendship with many people both inside and outside my own community, gained confidence in my ability to love and to dare a little more to let myself be loved and known. Even when everything seems primed for a perfect way of living out one's call, the blessing we experience is often not the one we anticipated. And when one door seems to close in our face with a shocking slam, another opens on untold blessings, if we will enter it. In our own calling we are invited to live in the faith of the assurance that was once given to us. What lies at the core of that promise is my willingness to live fully, not in my career, but in my vocation, in my calling. This is not to say that the two are not intimately connected; they are, but they are also separate. In our assignments we live part of our "journey outward" by being of service to others. As vocation directors we give of ourselves by offering our wisdom, by letting our story be known, and by direct-ing others as best we can. In whatever we do, when we live out of our calling, our vocation, we give witness to the ground of our committed life. And there we can enrich the lives of others in ways we do not know, for by living in the power of God's word to us we are able to accomplish much. For ibe. candidate. One great challenge in working with voca-tion prospects is the difficulty they have making a commitment. At times I have asked myself: Do I know more students who have committed themselves to trying the seminary, or do I know more who are "sitting, on the fence"? It is a phenomenon of our society and our age that young adults are making commitments later in life. Our own seminarians gasp when I tell them that I entered the novitiate at age twenty. And yet psychologists tell us that our twenties are the years most formative of the pattern of life we live as adults. What can we do? What should we do? To share with our candidates the reassurances and signs of God in our own experiences could be one of the greatest gifts we Review for Religious offer them. Here we speak from a faith that has been tested and proven to be one of our greatest treasures. If we can help our candidates to view life through the lens of faith, they will see an essential ingredient in living their religious or ordained life. Especially in their youth we need to capitalize on their zeal and enthusiasm for trying new ways and seeing from new perspec-tives. I have been pleasantly surprised to discover only later that the times I have challenged seminarians and spiritual advisees to a deeper faith have been the moments that have stuck with them, even haunted them. Our candidates need the experiences we share with them. Allowing others to hear of our circuitous journeys inward and our journey~ outward may be more formative for our candidates than we realize. What the Scriptures tell us of a theology of vocation has roots in personal experiences of God, experiences that are life-altering. Many of us grew up in a time when priests and religious did not talk much about their experience of call. But, when they did, even the slightest glimpse of their response to God's call set us on fire with zeal, enthusiasm, and the desire to follow their example. That the Scriptures reveal the call narratives in a recognizable literary form tells us that our ancestors in the faith saw such stories as deeply formative, not only for the persons called, but for the whole community of faith. They remind us how sacred our own jour-neys of faith are, not only for ourselves, but for others as well. Reflecting on "call" stories continues our own formation and our development of a theology of vocation. When we discover even mere bits of our own story in the pages of the Bible, we give to others a living theology of vocation. And, when we see our lives reflected on the pages of Scripture, we are strengthened to bring that written word to bear on our own lives. What we have come to consider, then,-is that a theology of vocation unites the journey inward, where we discbver the divine resources given us, and the journey outward, where we live selflessly in accord with the divine word that summoned us. Notes l N. Habel, "The Form and Significance of the Call Narratives," ZAW 77 (1965): 297-323. z The following are the classical call narratives in the Scriptures: Moses (Ex 3:1 - 12); Gideon (Jg 6:1-40); Isaiah (Is 6:1-13); Deutero-Isaiah (Is 40:3-8); Jeremiah (Jr 1:4-10); Ezekiel (Ezk 1 : 1-3:11); Hosea (Ho 1-3); Amos (Am 7:10-17); Mary (Lk 1:26-37). Others that can be considered call May-J~ote 1998 scenes but do not follow the usual pattern include: Abraham (Gn 12:1-4); Samuel (1 S 3:1-4:1); Elisha (1 K 19:19-21); Paul (Ga 1:11-24; Acts 9:1- 19; 22:3-16; 26:2-18); Peter (Mt 4:18-22; Mk 1:16-22; Lk 5:1-11); Matthew (Mt 9:9-13). 3 Habel, "The Form," p. 317. 4 Maria Boulding, The Coming of God (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1982), p. 125. s Philip Jebb, "Wonder Is So Sudden a Gift," in A Touch of God: Eight Monastic Journeys, ed. Maria Boulding (London: SPCK, 1982), p. 7. 6 Gerard Meagher, "The Prophetic Call Narrative," Irish Theological Quarterly 39, no, 2 (1972): 17. 7 A number of these conferences given by Carlo Martini to the young adults of Milan have been translated and published in several volumes; see Carlo Maria Martini, The Joy of the Gospel, trans. James McGrath (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1994). s Habel, "The Form," p. 319. 9 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1954), p. 8. ,0 Maria Boulding, "A Tapestry, from the Wrong Side," in A Touch of God, pp. 33-35. Antiphon in the Style of Hildegard 0 You who made the sharp shinned hawk with red eyes rend the singing sparrows with the silent slice of death, who fill the sunset sky with roses and crows, who paint the breast of the warbler with flashes of your Spirit and crown the finger small kinglet with your blood, bless me with wonder at the paradox of your plans. Like birds, may my heart's croaks and arias praise You. Anne Higgins DC Review for Religious MARIE CHIODO AND MARY IRVING An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating As an introduction to their book Toward a Human Worm Order, Gerald and Pat Mische recount a parable, "The Coat That Got Too Small." An outsider had met on a strange planet about a hundred fifty gasping and groaning people with contorted faces. Their coats "were much too small. Buttons and zippers were being strained to the limit and seams threatened to tear at the sides. Their bodies bulged against the overstretched fabric as if the contents had been stuffed in with tremendous effort." In talking with one of the women in the group, the out-sider pointed out: "It's your coat . It's too tight . Maybe you should get a new one that fits you better. It looks like this one has served you in the past, but now it is more like a straitjacket than a coat.". After considerable time., she started, between gasps, to tell me their story. They had had these coats since they were young, she said. It seemed to be the fashion. No one ever questioned it before. Marie Chiodo DW, a member of the provincial board of the United States province of the Daughters of Wisdom and an organizational con-sultant, does facilitation and process and program design with religious congregations and other nonprofit groups. Her address is 416 Branch Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20901. E-mail: mchiodo53@aol.com Mary Irving SSND, DMin, served as the itinerant theologian for the Daughters of Wisdom theological renewal process. A consultant in spir-ituality for religious communities, she also teaches and offers retreats and spiritual direction. Her address is 2202 Westview Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. E-mail: mirvingssnd@juno.com . May-finite 1998 Cbiodo and Irving * Theological Updating "But surely you have grown very much since then," I said incredulously, trying to constrain myself. "But what else is there?" She strained, but went on whenever she could get enough breath to say that she liked this coat. It had, after all, been hers for a very long time. 'Tm used to it now. It makes me feel . " She searched for a long time, looking for breath and for the right word. "Secure," she puffed out at last.I The coats help us picture an individual's or a community's unnecessarily limited theological understanding of self and oth-ers, the world, and God. Christian tradition is passed on through time with the in~ent of bringing Jesus Christ's transforming action to each generation of believers. Yet each era brings new cultural and historical settings. The new experiences and new questions about God and the self, others, and the world that arise in these new settings must be brought into a dialogue with the ancient traditions of the faith. From the 15th century to the 19th, new questions about evan-gelization and the education of the poor were raised by many European Christians, including women who were concerned about the care of the sick poor and the education of poor girls. The result was the establishment of numerous "apostolic" religious congregations, a category unknown till then. Vatican Council II's Gaudium et spes, the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, explicitly addressed the new questions and atti-tudes with which the church needed to engage that world, which had been viewed more as an opponent than a friend. If the Christian tradition and contemporary experience do not regu-larly engage in such dialogue, an individual's or a community's "coat" becomes strained and stretched. This article reviews the efforts of women religious to be free of unnecessarily constrictive theological coats, tells of one province's theological updating, and then offers reflections on these matters. An Historical Perspective on Theological Updating The impetus toward theological updating for United States women religious in the late 1990s is the most recent manifestation of a recurring pattern of the past fifty years. Three major moments will illustrate the pattern. The first moment was the expansion of the Catholic school system in the United States. The need for sisters to teach in the Review for Religious many schools often meant that young women religious were sent out to teach with little if any academic preparation. The 1941 doctoral research of Sister Bertrande Myers DC revealed grave inadequacies in the academic and theological preparation of many United States sisters in the first four decades of the 20th cen-tury. A 1949 presentation to the National Catholic Educational Association on the education of young religious sisters by Sister Madeleva Wolff CSC brought this problem to a wider audience. By 1953 the Sister Formation Conference, led by Sister Mary Emil Penet IHM, had been established to initiate a major project: seeing that new members received college degrees before entering the classroom. This effort was fash-ioned from the beginning with an integrated vision: theological, spiritual, and profes-sional elements were to be present simu.lta-neously in the curriculum. The sisters who were sent for master's and doctoral degrees and the young sisters who benefited from their teaching were the first recipients of updated thinking in both theology and pro-fessional fields,z As this integrated profes-sional, theological, and spiritual formation became standard at the undergraduate level, many sisters went on for degrees in higher education in their fields, but their contin-uing theological and spiritual updating was often overlooked. The second historical moment was brought about by the teachings of the Vatican Council in the 1960s. The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium) brought long-for-gotten biblical and sacramental images of the church into focus. The juridical emphasis of the past four hundred years was expanded and deepened by the new prominence given to the bib-lical image of the people of God; the baptismal holiness of the laity was proclaimed once again. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World transformed centuries of dichotomy between the church and the world into reverent and realistic openness. These and many other documents--for exam-ple, those on liturgy, religious freedom, and revelation--demon-strated the universal church's own desire to let out theological coats, some of which had remained unchanged for centuries. A pervasive if nebulous spiritual hunger discloses itself in the United States culture generally and in the members of many faith traditions. Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating Countless short- and longer-term initiatives surfaced in a variety of, congregational, parish, and educational settings, providing necessary biblical and theological.updating for many sisters. Now, thirty years .after the council, a third moment has arrived. The imminence of the millennium heightens in many congregations an awareness of the need for new theological and spiritual coats for these times. Theology expands and deepens in every area. The modern era in culture has yielded to a postmod-ern one. Scientific discoveries at the micro, macro, planetary, and cosmic levels challenge both theology and spirituality. Societies worldwide move increasingly into an awareness of their inter-connectedness and interdependence. A pervasive if nebulous spir-itual hunger discloses itself in the United States culture generally and in the members of many faith traditions. Women religious, too, find theological and spiritual challenges in this new world as well as in the diminishment of their numbers. Many apostolic congregations of women intuit with faith and hope the need for renewal that will enable them to minister better to today's church and society. Some have already initiated such a process. Looking at this spirit-hungry world, other congregations, chapters, and assemblies are recognizing the need for both theological and spir-itual updating for their members. For many, apostolic work of a theological kind provides the initial impetus. But with this moti-vation comes the realization that a sister's own integrity requires that she look to her own theological and spiritual updating if she is to be credible to others. One Province's Story The United States province of the international congrega-tion of the Daughters of Wisdom responded to the mandate of their general and provincial chapters "to deepen the spirituality of the congregation, in order to allow ourselves to be transformed by Wisdom, so as to live according to Her ways and to reveal Her." Responsibility for the implementation that would lead to theo-logical updating about Wisdom was shared by the leadership team and the membership. Leadership saw its role as, first, to initiate the conversations that would identify and articulate the theolog-ical needs among the sisters and then to put in place the structures to respond to those needs. Together sisters, associates, and lay collaborators would take a good look at their theological coats. Review for Reli~ous They would do so in the light of their personal spiritual experi-ence of the charism, contemporary writers and theologians, and the shared wisdom of the community. The leadership team fash-ioned a process that would engage a planning committee, cluster conveners in several geographic areas, and sisters and laypersons in the search for Wisdom. The province numbers approximately a hundred fifty sisters, mostly on the East Coast. Their diverse ministries include edu-cation, healthcare, religious education, retreat work, and social services. For four years the sisters had participated in faith-shar-ing groups called wisdom circles where they had pursued Wisdom spirituality with associates and other laypersons through books, articles, and prayer together. Threads for refashioning theologi-cal coats were already being spun. Yet the sisters wanted more. Though all of them sought Wisdom, there were conflicting views that involved cherished convictions about God and prayer, Christology, the emerging Sophia/Wisdom spirituality, and fem-inist theologizing. A Theological Education Process A four-stage theological education process was developed that would involve sisters, associates, and ministry colleagues in study, reflection, and dialogue on contemporary theology, church tra-dition, and present world realities. The four stages werd: (1) a think tank, (2) an itinerant theologian, (3) a province gathering, and (4) a year of itinerancy. The Think Tank. Twelve sisters with widely differing approaches to God, prayer, and spirituality were invited to be part of a think tank. Their role was twofold: to find out what the operative theologies were among the sisters and to engage in a weekend of discernment focused on the Wisdom charism. The twelve who agreed to participate in the think tank were given several articles for their study and were asked to interview five randomly chosen sisters in the province about their rela-tionship with God. Interview questions were devised for each to use. In the interviews, conducted by phone or face-to-face, the think-tank participants explored who God has been to the sister, how her ideas of God had or had not changed,.and what she still yearned for in her relationship with God. The interviewers took notes from these interactions and formulated their response to May-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating this question: From your interviews, what did you learn about the transformation by Wisdom in the life of our sisters? The twelve expressed awe at what took place during these interviews. Sisters spoke candidly and with deep wisdom about their life journeys. One recurring comment was, "No one has ever asked me these questions in the community." Excitement was generated in the province, such that the discernment week-end was not just for an elite twelve. It would now bear the imprint of the spiritual search of all the sisters. The responses collated from the interviews formed the start-ing point of the work on the weekend. In the course of the two days, the twelve sisters and the leadership team prayed and dia-logued as they struggled with the differing and often conflicting theological understandings among themselves. But most notable was the effort to hear and have a reverence for what others cher-ished in the tradition. The vision statement that emerged from the weekend articulated both our commonly held understanding of Wisdom and the theological diversity regarding Wisdom as Sophia/Wisdom and as the Christ: We are united in our desire for the fullness of God's trans-forming love. Consistent with our Congregational tradi-tion, we see ourselves as seekers of God as Wisdom. We acknowledge and accept that we hold diverse understandings of Wisdom: for example, Eternal and Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus, Christ/Sophia, Sophia. As we seek Wisdom, we remain mutually receptive. It is through dialogue and faith sharing that we claim our own individual experience, cherish the experience of others, and in that engagement enrich each other. In so doing, we com-mit ourselves to the process of transformation by Wisdom. This transformation by Wisdom impels us to active involve-ment in our fractured world. Equally important was the emergence of identifiable theo-logical areas that the community needed to explore together in more depth: Christology, feminist spirituality, Wisdom/Sophia. Finding an Itinerant Theologian. The planning included having one theologian walk with the province for an extended period of time. This would provide consistency in content and process. The term itinerant theologian was thus coined. The theological task was clear: to provide exposure to both traditional and contem-porary theology around the areas identified by the think tank. It was also clear that this was to occur in a climate of reverence for Review for Religious diverse theological positions and of openness to understand posi-tions different from one's own. The leadership team proceeded to identify what it sought in a theologian who would walk with the province over the next eighteen months. Criteria indicated some-one who would engage the province in theological reflection on their experience of God/Wisdom; on someone with breadth of knowledge and vision in regard to traditional and contemporary Christology and Wisdom theology; on someone who would respect the differing positions while inviting all to grow in new understandings of Wisdom; on someone who could integrate theology with spirituality. A tall order indeed! But a necessary one if the province was to continue together the retailoring of its theo-logical coats. The leadership team found a person with the theological education and experience in spiritu-ality. What is more, they found a person who knew how to place the contemporary in the heart of the tradition of the church. The retailoring would involve weaving new threads into appropriate ample fabrics, The province--sisters, associates, and other laypersons--would weave various strands together at the province gathering. The Province Gathering. The theme ~elected was "Touching the Textures of Wisdom." A planning .committee was put in place to work with the results of the think-tank weekend and with the itinerant theologian. They developed a design for the four days of the gathering, with particular attention given to content, process, and ritual around the three themes of Christology, Wisdom, and Women. In the months before the gathering, sisters received the results of the think tank and articles in each of these areas for their study and reflection. The gathering itself provided time for reflection on one's own experience, time for input and ritualizing, time to process its meaning, and time to dialogue with one another and with the itinerant theologian about emerging understandings. The atmo-sphere was conducive to forming new insights about God and Wisdom in such a way that sisters did not feel coerced to change We acknowledge and accept that we hold diverse understandings of Wisdom: for example, Eternal and Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus, Christ/Sophia, Sophia. 253 . iYlay-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological U.p~,__tin~ the way they approached God. Yet many said they saw both God and Wisdom with new eyes. The consistency, between traditional and contemporary insights regarding Wisdom wove new theo-logical fabrics for many. These fabrics had patterns of theologi-cal themes which the sisters wanted to examine more closely in the itinerant year. The themes were: ¯ Wisdom Christology in the New Testament ¯ Wisdom and Contemplation of God's Creation ¯ Lady Wisdom in the Old Testament ¯ Sophia Theology ¯ Feminist Theology ¯Julian of Norwich ¯ Liberation Theology. This large group of themes needed to be reduced to a man-ageable number. In the end there were three. "Wisdom in the New Testament" was a top choice of four of the six groups. "Sophia Theology" would involve looking at the emerging under-standing of the Trinity from feminist perspectives on Wisdom. "Creation, Women, and God" was to explore theologies of cre-ation emerging from feminist and ecological perspectives. The six cluster groups were scheduled for the fall of 1996 and the spring of 1997. The year began in St. Agatha, Maine, traveled to Islip, New York, Litchfield, Connecticut, and Portsmouth, Virginia, and concluded in Islip. The Year of Itinerancy. The cluster weekends were open to sisters and to invited lay people. Sisters indicated their first and second choices of topics, and attempts were made to honor choices. Sisters in each geographic area were invited to be cluster conveners. This involved their being in contact with the itinerant theologian, seeing to preparation of prayer and ritual, and basically organizing travel and hospitality for sisters and lay people. Several months before their cluster weekend, sisters received articles and materials for their study and reflection. The itinerant theologian traveled to the various sites to conduct the weekend in much the manner of her work at the province gathering: reflection on experience, theolog-ical input, and time for reflection, interaction, and ritual. The Itinerant Theologian's Reflection on the Year The interrelated themes of charism and community serve as pivotal points around which to structure these reflections. Review for Religious Charism. The charism of seeking after Wisdom, of hunger-ing and thirsting for her, is vibrant in the Daughters of Wisdom. For three hundred years the members have been nourished by St. Louis Marie de Montfort's profound biblical and theological book titled The Love of Eternal Wisdom. The province's participa-tion in wisdom circles was apparent in the July gathering and intensified in the cluster groups. Many biblical passages on Wisdom were old familiar friends. Some sisters had broken ground with new research on Wisdom/Sophia; others continued to find richness in Montfort's articulation of Christ as Eternal Wisdom. All were eager to deepen what they knew, to make con-nections, and to move to the unfamiliar, even when risky. This was as true of the women in their seventies, eighties, and nineties as it was of the newest members. The charism was evident in the prayers developed for the opening of both days of each work-shop. Local sisters prepared and led these prayers with remarkable originality, incorporating Scripture, ritual, guided meditations, and dialogue. The prayers' power each time reinforced the truth that the cluster workshops reverenced both the biblical theology that was being presented and the praying community as equal sources of Wisdom. Community. A community is, at any given historical moment, the living incarnation of its charism. In this time of new scholar-ship on biblical Wisdom, more diversity has surfaced than in pre-vious years. Province members struggled to be faithful to the tradition of Wisdom as it continues to develop theologically and spiritually. Since such struggles intimately involve community, two interrelated goals become central for the entire updating pro-cess: to assist each member to recognize her own Wisdom spiri-tuality and to respect the diverse Wisdom spiritualities of others. The cluster weekends with their smalle~ numbers (averaging twenty sisters and lay participants) allowed a more intensive use of the dynamics of the process. Three components promoted the goals: (1) a historical perspective, (2) theology and spirituality working together, and (3) religious and lay solidarity through baptism. History. A central conviction shaped the presentations in the province gathering and in the cluster workshops: to know history is to grow in freedom. Thusl history was a key factor in the clus-ter workshops. Only recently have biblical studies made possible a coherent look at the Old Testament Wisdom literature and at the May-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving * Theological Updating Theology assists believers in speaking about the God they believe in; their experience of God's invitation and the response they make is what we call spirituality. influence of Wisdom categories on the New Testament under-standing of Jesus Christ. Only recently has feminist theology explored Wisdom/Sophia as a help in rethinking Christology and Trinitarian theology. Even more recently, Sophia theology is becoming a source for ecological theology. Over and over, the participants expressed gratitude for the historical, biblical, and theological perspectives that allowed them to place their own charism and spirituality in context. Overall, the province gathering and the cluster workshops provided a uni-fying and freeing focus for all mem-bers of the province as they participated in events with a common historical perspective and a common set of biblical, theological, and spiri-tual experiences. The members can now speak across geographical bound-aries with a language which all under-stand. Theology/Spirituality. As charism and community are strands in the reweaving, of our theological coats, so are theologyand spirituality. Theology assists believers in speaking about the God they believe in; their experience of God's invitation and the response they make in their individual and community lives is what we call spirituality. In the gathering and in the cluster work-shops, the act of clarifying historical and contemporary speech about Christ, Wisdom, and women's relationship to God allowed the members of the province to distinguish between speaking about God in theological terms and reflecting on their own and others' experience of and response to God. This crucial clarifi-cation reduced conflict and enhanced the goals of helping each member to understand her own Wisdom spirituality better and to respect the diverse Wisdom spirituality of others. The refash-ioning of theological coats allowed people to breathe more com-fortably in. their own spirituality and their community relationships and to achieve what improved breathing provides: a renewed and healthier life. Unity through Baptism. Most cluster workshops contained pro-fessed sisters, former sisters, associates, .and "Friends of Wisdom": Review for Religious ministry colleagues and others interested in Wisdom. Careful guidelines were developed for invitation. The inviting sister-- after describing, to those who showed interest, the content and proceedings of the July province gathering--distributed the mate-rial to be read and later reflected on in the cluster group. This ori-entation provided a common ground for the cluster experience. Despite differences in life experiences, sisters and laypersons were able to relate to questions and issues that had emerged from the province gathering--this was the reading matter for use in the cluster groups. The energy and richness of the different per-spectives provided a model of an ecclesial community of women where historically rigid boundaries between laywomen and women religious could be reshaped. Their unity as baptized Christians became the pattern of deftly woven fabrics suitable for retailoring theological coats of Wisdom. Learnings. How can this concrete and particularized account of one province's experience of theological updating serve oth-ers who may be embarking on a similar project? What general movements can be gleaned for the benefit of all? How can the theological coats be let out to fit without harming the cloth? Six components of this process contributed to the careful alterations of this province's theological coats. First, this project demonstrated the value of a solid founda-tion. The general chapter's directives provided such a founda-tion. Other groups would need something similar. Second, the project combined clear provincial leadership with respectful attention to the members' theological and spiritual experience. The leadership wisely recognized that it was dealing with adults whose experience (gleaned through the interviews) had indispensable contributions to make to the planning process. This continued as the members of the gathering chose their pre-ferred areas of concentration for the cluster groups. Third, the leadership's commitment to a program that would have a reflective theological/spiritual style allowed participants to pause and deepen what they had learned, rather than over-powering them with more knowledge than they could assimilate; and music and poetry provided powerful alternative ways to inte-grate the material. In all the workshops, the opening prayers set the atmosphere in which the biblical and theological presenta-tions could resonate deeply and reach the whole person. The time provided for dialogue and personal reflection in each cluster group' 2.Y7 . May-ff~une 1998 Chiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating helped the participants to integrate the material both personally and communally. Fourth, the mission to spread knowledge and love of Wisdom beyond the congregation is vibrant in this community. The work-shops provided models for the sisters to keep in mind as they dis-cern how to communicate to others their own new appreciation of Wisdom. Fifth, the Daughters of Wisdom have nourished their partic-ular charism for three centuries. It is clear, compelling, and solidly grounded. Many congregations, founded in the 19th-century era of apostolic expansion, lack such clarity. Preliminary tasks for them will include reviewing their Vatican II renewal of their charism in the light, not only of the continuing experience of their members, but also of present theological, spiritual, and apos-tolic conditions. The preliminary time spent in such reformula-tion would be well spent. Finally, this small province chose an itinerant theologian in order to provide unity in presentation and spirit. This decision fit their group and may fit others. Larger congregations and those with different needs and hopes may make other choices. Planning that is attentive to the uniqueness of each group will enable the careful refashioning of theological coats so that members can breathe more freely as they move into the future. Outcomes. What came of all these efforts by one province to update itself theologically and spiritually around its charism? There seemed to be both a personal and a communal response to this question. Many spoke of their wanting to pursue Wisdom/Sophia spir-ituality more deeply in their personal prayer. One lay colleague said, "I have never in all my thirty-five years of knowing the Daughters felt so close to them and so personally enriched." One sister said it was wonderful to "see the interconnectedness between the Scriptures and the Wisdom theology as it developed in the tradition"; another said, "Sophia/Wisdom finally made sense to me." One cluster convener wanted to know what'we would do com-munally to continue the education we had begun. Some want to see more Montfortian.aspects in an ongoing study of Wisdom. One sister on holiday in the states reflected on what she had been hearing from the sisters about the province gathering and the cluster weekends: "Sisters from whom I would never expect it Review for Religious have told me of their deeply moving experiences with Wisdom/Sophia. One 82-year-old said she now prays to Sophia." Our theological coats have been stretched and refashioned with added cloth woven of threads newly spun from prayerful experience and theology and even our worldly surroundings. We have not finished. We bring our renewal in Wisdom spirituality to bear on ministry with the poorest of the poor. What differ-ence will our spiritual search and enlightenment make in terms of how and with whom we will minister? The spinning and the weav-ing and the careful alterations go on! Questions for Your Story. United States women religious have a history in this century of recognizing and responding to the need for theological updating among their members. The few remaining years of this centur~z may provide congregations with opportunities to consider whether they need to refashion their members' theological coats and therefore need some careful plan-ning that reflects their charism, ministry, and spirituality. This article has described one province's effort. As you reflect on it, you may inquire about the implications for your own con-gregation: What are the religious, spiritual, and cultural contexts within which you live today? What do you need to do to prepare yourselves to respond to them? What is your situation? What is the condition of your theological/spiritual coats? Are they need-lessly tight? Beginning to tear? Can you breathe freely? Do they restrict your apostolic effectiveness? These are the questions asked by foundresses centuries ago and by members of United States religious congregations earlier in this century. We who are pres-ent- day members find ourselves with the same questions as we look toward the dawn of a new millennium. The answers we give to the questions are important. Notes 1 Gerald and Patricia Mische, Toward a Human World Order (New York: Paulist Press, 1977), pp. 1-3. 2 Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Transformation of American Sister~ (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992), documents this first "moment" in the firstchapter, "Changing Times," pp. 3-30. May-June 1998 DONALD J. GOERGEN 260 Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life We often hear about being centered and about centering prayer; we hear, too, about wholeness. Centeredness and wholeness go together. Thus we cannot talk properly about how chastity and sexuality are integrated into the entire human person without first having a sense of our center. Otherwise we are off to a false start. As a sage once said, "There's no point in going fast if you're headed in the wrong direction." We want to be sure we are headed in the right direction. Provinces and congregations are concerned about mission statements and vision statements because they give us a focus and clarity about ourselves. Centering likewise gives u~ focus and clarity. Centering is not simply something that we do for our-selves personally, but something that we do for our com-munity or congregation as well. Centering is one of the main tasks of leadership. Without it, how could we know we are l~eaded in the right direction, no matter how pro-fessionally we might be equipping ourselves for the jour-ney? And so I ask: What is the center of your community or province's life? What or who is my center? Our center? What or who are we? We have to answer that, or be aware of it, before any talk about chastity, because a healthy chastity is a properly Donald J. Goergen OP, formerly the provincial of the Midwest Province of Dominicans, presented this paper, here somewhat revised, to the Conference of Major Superiors of Men in August 1997. He teaches theology at Aquinas Institute, where he may be addressed: 3642 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious centered or focused sexuality. A sexuality lacking a proper center, or falsely centered, is a distorted sexuality. It is as simple as that-- not as easy as that, but as simple. Now, however we phrase it, given our traditions and charism, we are God-centered people, followers of Jesus, called by Jesus, men and women who have turned our lives over to the gospel. If someone says to me, "Don, do you really believe in celibacy, really see any human value in it?" my response must begin with "Do you believe in God?" For indeed how do I talk about the meaning of chastity as I understand it with someone whose cen-ter in life is altogether different from my own? If the person were to respond, "Yes, I do believe," then my next question might be, "Do you believe in the God of Abraham and Sarah, in a God who calls people forth, calls people to be who they can be and to be servants of humanity?" If they again say yes, we then have some common ground on which to discuss our call and its celibate char-acter. Otherwise we are at a disadvantage in describing what a healthy Christian chastity is all about. When we call to mind who our center is, the One on whom our mission and vision are focused, we realize that this puts us at odds with the society in which we find ourselves. Many of the struggles with sexuality have to do with false attempts to adjust our happiness to the ways or perspectives of today's post-Christian world. Some of the struggles, however, are simply human, and to those we will turn later. Here it is important to differentiate the two. Is the struggle of some member of the province a futile effort to give allegiance to two masters, to try to live out of two centers, to live a continuously divided life? Or is it simply the struggle to be more deeply human as the vulnerable creatures we are? Thus, just as there is a need for us corporately to be God-- or Christ--or Spirit-centered, so there is a need for us not to be centered in our culture or society. In it, yes; centered in it, no. Ministering to it, yes; coopted by it, no. Seeing value in it, signs of God's presence there, yes; blindly idolizing it, no. Any healthy sexuality must begin with being a properly centered sexuality, which is rarely the sexual understanding provided by our secular culture, and often not the sexual understanding provided by rep-resentatives of our church. Being centered, then, also means being countercultural, in this area as in every other area of our reli-gious lives; not going out of our way to find fault with our soci-9£1 May-ff~tne 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste L~ It does us no good to be countercuttural in one area of life alone. ety and culture, but not making them the object of our primary allegiance either. If being healthy and chaste implies a countercultural approach to our sexuality, it also implies being countercultural in all areas of our living. Too often we attempt to shore up a rationale for celibacy by dragging in the countercultural justification. But it does us no good to be countercultural in one area of life alone. This is where poverty, chastity, obedience, community, prayer, mission, and servanthood form a whole tapestry. Is our approach to our sexuality consistent with our approach to life as a whole? What good does it do to be sexually abstinent if we are addicted to work, are first-rate consumers, and enjoy almost all the comforts our society offers us? Can we truly say, then, that our center is in a spir-itual or "evangelical" way of life? The chal-lenge is not how to be both healthy and chaste, but how to be both healthy and countercultural. Does health imply adjust-ment to our sociocultural context? From where or whom do we derive our understanding of a healthy life? Could true health imply "unable to adjust to the demands of a secular world"? What does it mean to be "at home" in a society that is not "at home" with religious values? Now, I am not suggesting that Christianity and secularity are at irreconcilable odds with each other. Indeed, we search for seeds of sacrality in the soil of secularity. Yet secularity in the West does imply a neutrality toward religion that becomes an indiffer-ence to it, often even a hostility or a lack of respect--certainly towards religion as central or essential to social and human life. Secularized living neither values nor structurally supports reli-gion. It may give lip service to spirituality, but more often it favors spiritualities as marketable commodities. We ought :not be naive. And so I return to the question: What is the center, corner-stone, focus of my life and ministry? Of yours? Of your congre-gation or community or province? We must first be healthily centered and go from there. Another way of putting it is to ask: What is the ethos of your community, its atmosphere, character, sense of values? What does it structurally support? Is our way of being sexual consistent with that ethos? Is it sexuality that gets dis- Review for Religious torted, or does our sexuality simply manifest a deeper distortion in our lives: the loss of our center? To what does our congregation give witness? If we merrily go along with consumer society, defend capitalism at all costs, tolerate machismo, smugly see Western civilization as superior to others, and are sexually abstinent, then that is what we give witness to. In that context, sexual abstinence is hardly mean-ingful. One of the responsibilities of leadership is to cultivate a cli-mate, help develop an ethos, sketch out the vision, focus the mem-bership. In what sort of environment is it most likely that the men or women of the community will reach healthy maturity as chaste celibates? What threats are there to such an environment? The Credibility of the Gospel In our search for a healthy celibacy, a chaste sexuality, we must feel deeply that there is something important at stake, some value that gives our way of life meaning. We might each express that differently, but I will call this core value the gospel. I do not mean as such the four Gospels, but the gospel at the heart of the Gospels, the gospel of God that formed the center value in Jesus' own life and mission. Like Paul, we live "for the sake of the gospel" (1 Co 9:23).1 Thus a primary, urgent, felt concern in my own life is the credibility of the gospel, which is nothing other than the credi-bility of the God whom I preach. My witness helps to make it credible; it makes my life credible. This is the rationale for a healthy, culturally contextualized (even if countercultural) chastity. The gospel makes sense of my celibacy, and my celibacy must help to make sense of that gospel in our world, my world, at this period of its history. The gospel itself, of course, does not require celibacy, nor does ordained ministry in itself necessitate celibacy. But religious life does see celibacy as essential to its way of being in the world. As religious we freely choose to be celibate as one dimension of our way of living the gospel. This freely chosen celibacy for the sake of the gospel, then, cannot be taken lightly. It is central to who I am as a witness to the gospel, as a witness of the risen Lord, of the presence and power of the risen Christ and his Spirit in my life. The risen Christ and the Holy Spirit are the source of my May-June 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life celibacy, and I at least desire, even in my weakened humanity, to live what I believe. One of the most poignant questions raised by Pope Paul VI in his still unsurpassed apostolic exhortation on evangelization-- which so emphasized witness as the primary form of preaching-- was the question: Do you live what you believe? In fact he raised three questions: It is often said nowadays that the present century thirsts for authenticity. Especially in regard to young people it is said that they have a horror of the artificial or false and that they are searching above all for truth and honesty. These "signs of the times" should find us vigilant. Either tacidy or aloud--but always forcefully--we are being asked: Do you really believe what you are proclaiming? Do you live what you believe? Do you really preach what you live? The witness of life has become more than ever an essential condition for real effectiveness in preaching.' My faith in the resurrection, in the risen Jesus, my own human experiences of the risen Jesus, Jesus' self-presentation to me inviting me to follow him and my response of trust and faith, all these reconstruct me, reorient me, as a human being into being a witness to that grace which has been granted me. By that grace I trust God and God places trust in me. A witness is who I am. I desire never to betray that responsibility, any more than I would wish to betray th.e. most profound friendship given me in life. My witness includes a call to celibacy that I find in my own human experience of God as present to me in this world, Celibacy by itself does not witness to anything. But celibates are witnesses. And so the question is: To what do I give witness? If I am racist, sexist, consumerist, clericalist, arrogant, ambitious, greedy, and sexually abstinent, what I give witness to is racism, greed, male privilege, and sexual abstinence. Celibacy does not give witness, but Francis of Assisi did, and Mother Teresa did, and Cardinal Bernardin did, because the totality of their lives gave witness. Their celibacy made sense only in the context of their lives. And Francis of Assisi's celibacy did not make sense in the context of his world. By merely rational norms any generation would judge him a fool, but Francis's life made sense in the con-text of the gospel. That is the only context that makes sense of our own celibate lives. We are evangelists, not because we are some-how superhuman or something other than human, but because we are convinced that living the gospel is for us a better way to be Review for Religious human. My celibacy is a part of my own humanity and makes me more truly human. It is not necessary for being human, nor nec-essary for living a gospel-centered life, but it does make me to be the human being I am. Without a perspective such as this, there can be no healthy chastity, no freedom, no desire, only fear, only obligation. This is to say, not that living chastely and cslibately is easy, but that it is the only humane way for me to live. Becoming Human Together Beyond the sexuality promoted by the secular culture in which we find ourselves, there is another whole side: mature adult Christian sexuality understood in the context of our total human-ity, with its aspirations, its limitations, its vulnerabilities, its dis-appointments, its joys. We are vulnerable human beings through and through. In my own experience of leader-ship, I learned both how talented and how frag-ile my brothers are. Fragility is not just a matter of misplacing our center, of failing to live from within the depths of our souls, but it is also a matter of what chastity asks of us even when we are centered. It is not easy to be human. A friend of mine likes to say that we are not human beings struggling to be holy, but holy peo-ple struggling to be human. Achieving the deli-cate balance in our lives between the consoling compassionate gentleness of the gospel and its radical challenging demands is not easy, and never achieved or given once and for all. Our vision should be clear, expectations should be high, but our capacity for understanding deep. When there are failures in keeping the vow, the common good makes its demands, but so does the good of the individual human person created and loved by God. Leaders need to be able to distinguish between, on the one hand, some-one who manipulates us, exploits the fraternity or sisterhood or religious family, disregards the reputation of the community, or has been seduced by the false philosophy of our unliberated soci-ety and, on the other hand, the brother or sister who falls short, needs forgiveness, is moving toward deeper integration, and is genuinely caught up with the gospel of Jesus Christ. Here only the one without sin can cast a stone. Does the brother or sister have genuine affection for the com- Celibacy by itself does not witness to anything. May-June 1998 Goergen * Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life munity? Are we the source of his or her deepest identity? If so, then the one who is not against us is for us (Lk 9:50), and we give him or her the benefit of the doubt. Chastity is there, and growth in love and commitment to the gospel. If not, we are being used. If someone is stuck in some rationalized disregard for truth, then the one who is not with me is against me (Lk 11:23). Is the per-son genuinely "in the Spirit" or not? I would trust and help any-one grounded in the Spirit. I would help but not trust those who are grounded in their own agenda. Healthy chastity in a sexually saturated, religiously indifferent society is asking for heroism. Unfortunately, to be heroic is the only way we can go. Areas of Specific Concern. There are several areas of particular concern that have an impact on our living a chaste life. I comment on them only briefly here, but they can well be pursued further in community discus-sions. I have one hesitancy. Several years ago I spent several months in India. One thing I learned about India at that time is this: Regarding anything I might say, the opposite is equally true. Accordingly, I am mindful here that I can only raise or emphasize certain points that naturally leave many other points left unsaid. Gender and Individuality There are many reasons, feminist thinking among them, why gender receives much attention today. We have become accus-tomed to distinguishing between sex and gender, sex referring more to the biological aspects of sexual identity, and gender more to the pyschosocial and sociocultural aspects. I want to stress here, however, that individual differences are as important as differ-ences of gender, or even more so. One of the criticisms of Euro-American feminism by third-world feminists is our assumption that such a thing as "women's experience" can speak for all women. Culture, race, and class deeply affect who we are, So does our individuality. I am not speaking here of individuality individualistically understood, but of each one's unique personhood. When dealing with people, we must remember the significance of these individual differences. Men are not all alike. Gay men are not all alike. Black men are not all alike. A major fallacy in many gender studies may be to assume the insignificance of individual differences. Gender is to Review for Religious be understood not so much as two abstract categories into which we place people, but rather as people first of all, whose gender is secondary. Gender must accommodate itself to persons, rather than persons being made to conform to gender stereotypes. There is more than one way to be human, more than one way to be a man, more than one way to be a woman, more than one way to be gay or straight. The question behind gender is not what I am, but who I am. Along with this, let me include my hesitancy--simply a cau-tion- about topics like masculine spirituality, men's groups, and getting in touch with our maleness. Although there can be value in this movement, I am suspicious that it might buy into a misunderstanding of gender wherein my sexual identity becomes dependent upon group consciousness. I am very hesitant to use the word masculinity and give it precise con-tent. How are groups understanding it? With respect to the men's movement, who are the men we are talking about? What is it they have in com-mon? Maleness only? What is the underlying con-cept of masculinity operative in men's groups? Can one deviate from it? How flexible is it? Is there any stereotyping of femininity in such groups? I am not suggesting that there is no value in a men's movement, or in a gathering of males, but I am suggesting that critique is necessary if there is an underlying assumption that all men experience themselves as sexual beings in a common way. If men come together to interact around issues of "soul" and how soul or spirit manifests itself in our sexualities, that is clearly good. If coming together reinforces a sense of "us men," it perpetuates a false understanding of gender. The question behind gender is not what I am, but who I am. Homosexuality There is no question today but that homosexuality plays a significant role in discussions of celibate sexuality. To some degree this is the influence of our social context, of the gay liberation movement on both society and religion. HIV and the tragedy of AIDS also enter into the discussion. Again my comments here are necessarily brief. There is a place for homosexual or gay and lesbian people in religious life. They can be very creative, pastorally compassion-ate, and spiritually sensitive. Homosexuality is not accepted May-June 1998 socially, however, as of equal value to heterosexuality, although it is fairly well acknowledged psychologically that it is not intrinsi-cally pathological. The challenge for us, however, is not only how to screen in order to accept only healthy homosexual men or women and what our expectations of them should be as regards living a chaste life, but also how to clarify for ourselves whether all healthy homosexual or gay people are capable of living a celi-bate communal life. For our purposes here, I will make some distinctions, risky distinctions, but they can clarify discussion. (I refer here specifi-cally to communities of men.) I distinguish between gay men, homosexual men, and closeted men. Religious communities do not benefit from closeted homo-sextiality. I do not mean that men need to be public about their sexuality, a notion that seems to be an odd bane of our period of history. By closeted homosexuals I mean men who are closeted as regards their own selves. That is, they are significantly out of contact with their sexuality and thus unable to accept the degree or kind of homosexuality present in them; as a result, they are men who live in denial and fear and self-hatred. For homosexual men to live in religious communities, they need to be comfortable enough to be unafraid of their homosexuality, and they certainly need to be able to acknowledge who they are to trusted friends. The deeper issue is the distinction I make, for our purposes, between homosexual men and gay men. This is a distinction not ordinarily made in the gay community. There you are either gay or in the closet. But this has led people to make some mistakes, for the word gay is ambiguous and certainly not univocal. It can refer to gay culture or cultures, to people, to styles of life, even to an ethos, a set of beliefs, a movement~ When so .used, it is unhelp-ful for our purposes of discernment or our witness to the gospel. Although a particular "gay" person may very well be called to religious life and ministry, not everything that is gay is compati-ble with religious life. Many styles .of gay life, dimensions of gay cultures, even cofiamonly held assumptions among many gay men, all these may be quite incompatible with our call and our life. Religious life itself is a particular style of life, a particular sub-culture, grounded on certain convictions held in common. Thus I will here use the word homosexual to describe someone whose sexual orientation is predominantly homosexual, but whose deep-est source of identity is not his sexuality but his faith and its Review for Religious accompanying required way of life. A gay person's deepest iden-tity is frequently his sexual identity, or at least his sexual identity has for him a high level of significance. In other words, while it is possible for homosexual men to live and contribute immensely to religious life, the same cannot be naively said of all gay men or even all healthy gay men. If the network of significant relationships that a man feels he must main-tain for the sake of his identity and health is a gay network, then his heart and soul may lie more with the gay community than with a religious community, no matter how many gay men there may be in a religious community. The defining characteristic of a gay community is its sexuality, for a religious community its spirituality. A gay man can be deeply spiritual, and I place here no judgment on the realities of the gay worlds. I am simply saying that, whereas homosexuality is capable of integration into reli-gious life, gay life is not. Where does one's deepest commitment, heart, and soul lie? If one needs to express one's gay identity in the ways encouraged by secular gay life, so be it, but in religious life this cannot be one's defining identity. What I have said should in no way whatsoever be taken as legitimating homophobia or prejudice against homosexual people in religious life or gay and lesbian people in the society at large. Nor is it meant to disparage the legitimate struggles that people encounter as they attempt to mature sexually in religious life. This article is an effort to clarify who we are as religious commu-nities. We are not and never can be communities of gay men, no matter how many homosexual members there may be. We are and must be religious communities. Affectivity I want to underscore the importance of our affective lives. Among men in particular, this can be left undeveloped or its importance minimized. Although, as I said above, Ihave ques-tions about "the men's movement," I think it important that'men find affective support for themselves among their brethren in community and among women religious and other women too. Affective bonds not only sustain us in our lives and ministries. They also help us live the spiritual life deeply. Affective prayer is deeper than reflective prayer, and contemplative prayer even deeper than affective prayer. Affect ordinarily opens up for us deeper recesses of our being and thus allows us to live life more fully, May-June 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life beyond dull routine, addictiveness to work, and human bonding that is merely cerebral. If nothing else, our lives must be seen by others as loving, perhaps especially by prospective members. There is both a role for affection and a human need for it. The challenge is to live a balanced, integrated, wholesome life. And balance is not something achieved once and for all, but something regained daily. Life implies movement; perpetual sta-bility is death. Integration implies integrity, which is inner freedom graced by God and constant in pursuit of a worthy quest. There are individual and cultural differences in our affective lives, but the world to which we witness, the brothers and sisters to whom we are joined by profession, are asking us: Do you care? Do you feel? We need examples of affecdve maturity among us. Affective growth has a sexual component to it. Among the major reasons for pur-suing sexual maturity among us are the affective maturity that accompanies it and the increased spiritual maturity as well. Hope and Forgiveness I cannot here go into the complexities, difficulties, and vari-ations of sexual misconduct that we have had to confront in the past ten or fifteen years. I do not want anything I say here to minimize the seriousness of these issues or to lead us to excuse ourselves. Our concerns are for the good of our own members, the common good of our communities, along with our primary con-cern for the victims of abuse at the hands of community members who were occupying positions of trust. For the pastoral care of our members in crisis situations such as these and also for the future health of victims and of perpetrators as well, two things are impor-tant: hope and forgiveness. Whatever one's situation in life and whatever the condition of one's life, we cannot allow it to confine us to living without hope. At least three things can contribute to a healthy even if "non-normal" life for perpetrators, victims, and all of us: (1) personal support and clearly defined boundaries, (2) a deepening of one's spiritual life, and (3) personal involvement with available thera-peutic programs. We can all ask ourselves how woundedness in some cases gets transformed into the making of a wounded healer and how in other situations wounds end up in a cycle of wound-ing others. How are wounds "healed" even if never "cured"? Whatever the path we must take, hope is essential to recovery. This much I have learned from my own walking with perpetrators Review for Religious as well as victims: Never let anyone destroy your hope. Strangely, as I was revising this article, I saw the obituary of Viktor Frankl in the New York Times (4 September 1997). Certainly his three-year experience in a concentration camp contained every justifi-cation for giving up hope along with confirming him in the conviction that one's attitude in the face of suffering is essential to well-being. Every one of our brothers, whether a pedophile or a perpe-trator of some other abuse or one of our outstanding members, needs hope. People cannot survive much less thrive without it. All people, as brothers and sisters, need to experience forgive-ness from others in their lives if they are to move beyond various large or small crises towards healing; also, for this same healing, they may need to do some forgiving of their own. To live a whole human life, we must learn to forgive and to be forgiven. This ought not be precipitous. Perpetrators of abuse need to own their guilt and responsibility, go through cognitive restruc-turing, acknowledge their genuine need for reconciliation with victims, their community, and their God. When the way has been prepared, however, forgiveness and understanding need to be there for them if they are to have hope of being restored to their own lives. This does not predetermine how forgiveness happens. Acceptance, forgiveness, and love can be mediated, and must be, from somewhere within the perpetrators' network of relation-ships, from their Christian community. As with all of us, both perpetrators and victims must eventually feel God's presence in their struggle to remake their lives. Health is never a heart of stone. Even though victims cannot take risks and need to protect their increased vulnerability, the goal is not to be limited to resigned anger. It lies in learning a painful compassion. Of course, much more needs to be said here about our mem-bers who have violated the sacred trust placed in them. There has to be an owning of responsibility on their part; they have to have a genuine desire to reform their lives; there must be coop-eration with the congregation or province and its leadership. One thing all of us can learn from these crises is how important for our communities hope and forgiveness are When it comes to the vul-nerabilities in our lives, especially vulnerabilities in our sexual-ity, and most especially when these vulnerabilities become public. We need to learn forgiveness, to forgive and be forgiven, and to May-ffune 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life have hope. These two are at the heart of the Christian gospel to which we have given our lives. They are also pertinent to a healthy attitude toward sexuality. After formulating these reflections of my own, I found Sogyal Rinpoche's Tibetan Book of Living and Dying saying the same thing: "I would like to single out two points in giving spiritual help to the dying: giving hope, and finding for-giveness." 3 Common Fraternal Life Summ.ing up, I must say that the best way to promote a healthy sexuality and chastity among us is to promote healthy community life. The fraternity, sisterhood, or community itself is a significant formative context for us.4 How deep is the bond that unites us? Can the communal context of our living both chal-lenge us and enrich us? Does it come from that deeper spiritual desire, that deep spring, from which our lives and ministries ought to flow? Perhaps common life has suffered assault more than any-thing else during the past twenty-five years; the fraternal charac-ter of that common life has perhaps been too long neglected. If our community is not a deeply spiritual and humanly healthy con-text for the workings of the Holy Spirit, individuals find it a lonely struggle to live the heroic lives we are called upon to live, lives of selflessness in a society that rationalizes greed, arrogance, and exploitive forms of power for which obedience, poverty, and chastity are the only antidotes. And so, what do I ask of present-day leadership in this quest called religious life? --Call us to center ourselves; help us to remember who we truly are; challenge us to be our. best selves. Few things in life, very few things, are truly important. Help us to remember that. --Create a climate, an ethos, for healthy living, for open discussion, but also for the freedom to be spiritual and holy men and women and to give religious witness as well. --Respect and trust the brothers and sisters unless someone clearly manifests that such trust is unde-served. --Trust yourself, seek advice, and be human. --Keep an inner balance, keep your eye on extremes and help us to avoid them. Review for Religious --Be aware that there is a rhythm in our personal lives for all of us, like inhaling and exhaling, a time to plant and a time to reap. Do not supervise our personal growth. --Keep our focus on the charism, and keep our expec-tations clear. --Affirm the importance of sexuality in our lives, but help us to put it in perspective. It is not the be-all and end-all of life. --Call us to lives of integrity, but respect our wound-edness and be aware of how vulnerable we are. Help us to be caring, loving men and women. Teach us to pray. --Have a sense of humor. Life is a way of the cross, but help us to look at that cross from the vantage point of the resurrection. Give us hope. I close with some poetic reflections from a Protestant Brazilian liberation writer, Rubem Alves: What is hope? It is a presentiment that imagination is more real and reality less real than it looks. It is the hunch that the overwhelming brutality of facts that oppress and repress is not the last word. It is a suspicion that reality is more complex than realism wants us to believe and that the frontiers of the possible are not determined by the limits of the actual and that in a miraculous and unexpected way life is preparing the creative events which will open the way to freedom and resurrection. The two, suffering and hope, live from each other. Suffering without hope produces resentment and despair, hope without suffering creates illusions, naivet~, and drunkenness. Let us plant dates even though those who plant them will never eat them. We must live by the love of what we will never see. This is the secret discipline. It is a refusal to let the creative act be dissolved in immediate sense experience. It is a stubborn commitment to the future of our grandchildren. 273 --- May-June 1998 Goergen * Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life Such disciplined love is what has given the prophets, revolutionaries, and saints the courage to die for the future they envisaged. They make their own bodies the seed of their highest hope.5 Notes l On this point see letter 20, "Religious Life and the Gospel," in my Letters to My Brothers and Sisters (Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1996), pp. 137-142. Available through Dominican Central Province Office; 1909 South Ashland Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60608. 2 Evangelii nuntiandi, §76. 3 The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1992), p. 212. A highly recommended spiritual book. 4 See letter 11, "On Community Life," pp. 75-79, and letter 17, "The Continuing Nature of Formation," pp. 115-121, in my Letters to My Brothers and Sisters. s Rubem A. Alves, Hijos del Magana (Salamanca: Ediciones Sigueme, 1976). The above lines have been gathered together from Alves's reflec-tions on pages 219-231. Morning Ear "Morning after morning, he opens my ear." --Isaiah I want to keep my ear wide open like a door foldingout to the sun, ready to receive all that the ball of fire spills across the threshold. I want the Word to trickle through the long canal to the heart and find a place to stretch out in a dream, then expand through my senses to some form in reality. I want it to grow sturdy like a tree that dances in every emotion of the wind, hearing music even when there is only silence. Patricia G. Rourke IHM Review for Religious MARTIN PABLE Skills Needed for Celibacy ~chonaset cIr aotfefde rc hisa sntoitty a, nboirb dlioc aIl e oxrp tlohreeo iltosg sipciarli truaatli oonr amley sf-or tical significance. Such reflections have in recent decades been put forth in masterful fashion by other writers. My purpose is different. Assuming that readers of this journal already have an understanding and appreciation of the value of religious chastity, I focus on this question: What skills ar.e required in order to live out this commitment in a faithful and life-giving manner? I was prompted toward offering an answer to this question by reading a couple of years ago Father Raymond Carey's "Psychosexuality and the Development of Celibacy Skills." As many readers may know, Carey favors a strongly behavioral approach to the assessment of candidates' fitness for priesthood or religious life. Instead of relying on someone's verbalizations about the value of celibacy (which may be impressively lofty and elo-quent without being grounded in lived experience) or even on psychological testing, Carey bases his assessment on the person's life history. The underlying principle is that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. In assessing people's capacity to live the vow of chastity, the key question would be: Is the can-didate for religious life developing the skills needed for celibate living? Martin Pable OFMCap has a doctorate in pastoral counseling, has taught courses in it, and has done extensive counseling. Besides giving retreats and workshops, he directs a wellness program for his order and does evangelization ministry. His address is House of Peace Community Center; P.O. Box 05656; M!lwaukee, Wisconsin 53205. 275 . May-3~une 1998 Pable * Skills Needed for Celibacy Carey went on to name--very briefly--twenty-seven such skills. I found his list a bit overwhelming, but I selected a few of the skills and worked out a retreat conference for religious who were already in final vows. The retreatants later encouraged me to put my talk into written form. That is the genesis of this arti-cle. I will follow Carey's distinction between intrapersonal skills (needed to manage internal conscious states) and interpersonal skills (for dealing with other persons), but sometimes my naming of the skills will differ from his. Intrapersonal Skills Self-knowledge Dr. William Menninger once noted that the first meaning of intimacy is "that which constitutes one's own inner self." This . implies, he said, that we must become intimate with ourselves-- know ourselves--before we can hope to be intimate with others. "Know thyself" is a well-known axiom of the ancients. St. Teresa of Avila used to say, "Almost all problems in the spiritual life stem from lack of self-knowledge." Why is self-knowledge so founda-tional? Because it is the precondition for freedom of choice. If I know when I am feeling sad or inadequate or confident or resent-ful or contented or discouraged, I will have important data for making better decisions; whereas, if I am unaware of these inter-nal states, I will likely fall or be driven into choices without really intending them. Then come the regrets: "Why in the world did I do that?" The same dynamics apply to my awareness--or lack of it--of long-standing patterns of people-pleasing or compulsive activity or competitiveness or demanding my own way. Without self-knowledge, change and conversion are not possible. Such self-knowledge is especially crucial in matters of chastity. I need to know what is driving me: my erotic feelings and desires? my tendency to seek companionship to feed my vanity or soothe my bruised ego? my need to feel important to at least one person so as to compensate for my sense of failure in my ministry? None of these necessarily precludes honest celibate living, but I need to be aware of them if I am to manage them. The skill here consists in the ability to tune in to and correctly identify these internal feelings and tendencies. How do we grow in self-knowledge? The basic tool is inter-nal reflection, such as the process described by Father George Review for Religious Aschenbrenner in his famous article "Consciousness Examen" (Review for Religious 31, no. 1 [January-February 1972]). Instruments such as the Myers-Briggs or the enneagram can be helpful in coming to know ourselves. So can the regular practice of journaling and the time-tested practice of spiritual direction. Enjoyment of One's Own Company We have all seen the opposite of this: people who seemingly cannot stand to be alone. This does not come naturally for those who are extroverts. Still, most extroverts do develop the capacity for solitude as they grow older; it is one of the tasks of midlife. Also, we find religious who always have to be busy doing something; they seem unable to just be still or engage in quiet reflection. One has to wonder: What are they avoiding or running away from? Perhaps it is some inner voice that keeps chiding, "You will never be good enough, will never measure up." In any case, celibates need to develop the ability to be alone, to enjoy their own company. This is simply a demand of reality. Having chosen not to marry, we can-not expect that someone will always be there for us. Even in the best of religious communities, there will be times when no one is around. It is the same in ministry, even in these days of collaboration. Much of our time may be spent alone--in our office, our cubicle, our car. The skill lies in the ability to accept that reality and deal with it creatively. Some religious may need therapy to help them understand and manage those inner voices and restless feelings that drive them to avoid solitude. But ordinarily the skill is acquired with time and practice. We begin to actually enjoy quiet time for read-ing, walking, listening to good music. To do that well, though, perhaps most of us will lneed a reasonably comfortable room or office and some degree of pleasant surroundings. It would be well to include here what Carey calls "skills to mon-itor fantasy." This would obviously exclude behavior such as indulging in sexually stimulating reading or viewing, but it would also exclude allowing oneself to fantasize about "what might have been" (or still could be) in terms of romantic/sexual relationships. It is certainly appropriate to do the necessary grieving over such renunciations, but not to keep revisiting them in one's imagination. Celibates need to develop the ability to be alone, to enjoy their own company. '277 May-June 1998 Pable * Skill~ Needed for Celibacy~ One of the instructive stories from the life of St. Francis of Assisi is related by St. Bonaventure. One night, when Francis was severely tempted by lust, he ran out into the snow and formed several snow figures. Then he said to himself, "Look, Francis, the larger one there is your wife and the others are your chil-dren. Now hurry up and find clothes and food for them--they are cold and hungry. But, if all the trouble it takes to look after them is too much for you, then keep your services for God alone." The story is a stark reminder of how chastity sometimes requires a hard dose of "reality therapy" to iolt us out of our dreamy fan-tasies. The "greener grass" on the other side can turn into a cold night and a hungry family. ~ Being grounded in the love of God, I recognize that this is not so much a skill as an attitude or conviction. But it needs to be acquired and strengthened through behavior. Initially, probably most of us accepted celibacy as part of the "package deal" of reli-gious life, or celibacy made sense because it gave us greater free-dom to be of service. But over the long haul that will not be enough to hold us in our commitment to chastity. Something more profound, more soul-inspiring is needed. Stephen Rossetti has called it "the celibacy experience" (Review for Religious 41, no. 5 [September-October 1982]). Rossetti quotes psychologist Ignace Lepp as saying that the chastity of those consecrated to Christ must be "counterbalanced by a genuinely mystical life." There must be, then, a necessary connection between celibacy and mysticism. Rossetti uses Karl Rahner's definition of mysticism as "a genuine though mediated experience of encounter and communication with the personal God." It is this personal experience of being held in the uncondi-tional embrace of God's love that protects religious chastity. It is not something that happens once and for all, but is a chain of real encounters that renew and strengthen the individual's surrender to God. Rossetti says: "It is this experience and the resulting vision which grounds the celibate's apostolate. The celibacy experience, which eventually grows into a total response to the radical question 'Do you love me?' provides the charter and gives life to his or her ministry. Without this growing intimacy with Christ, the celibate's ministry is without an anchor and will drift with every theological and psychological breeze that comes along" (p. 676). The skill required here, it seems to me, is to make oneself available to this experience and to foster it. In the concrete, this Review for Religious means regular, personal prayer. If celibacy is grounded in my per-sonal relationship with the living God embracing me with uncon-ditional love, that relationship can grow and be sustained only by communication, by opening myself to that Mystery, by allow-ing the risen Christ to address me as "friend." Psychotherapist A.W. Richard Sipe puts it very clearly: "Prayer is indispensable and fundamental for the celibate life, for there is no other effective way to confront God-Self-Other within the core of celibate reality. ¯ . All other relationships and friendships are grounded in this core or, in the end, they will fail from the point of view of celibacy or celibate love. In studying religious celibacy for thirty-five years, I have never found one exception to this fundamental rule: prayer is necessary to maintain the celibate process." Skill to Prize One's Sexuality Prizing one's sexuality involves at least two elements: first, appreciating one's sexuality as a positive life energy. In my recent book The Quest for the Male Soul, I note that one of the Hebrew words for "man" in the Bible is zakar, which literally refers to the male phallus. The rite of circumcision had deep spiritual sig-nificance for the Hebrew male: it was a sign of his covenant with God as well as of his ethnic identity. Therefore, every time he looked at or used his phallus he was reminded: "I am a Hebrew. I belong to God's chosen people. I am dedicated to God.'.' What a contrast with our own socialization into sexuality. There is no sacred ritual to help us to prize our sexuality. The culture around us tends to idolize it, while our religious training tends to make it an object of shame. It is crucial that celibates come to value their sexual energy as a positive gift of God that needs to be channeled toward nongenital forms of love and cre-ativity. Second, this skill involves coming to a peaceful sense of own-ership of one's sexual orientation¯ Thankfully, as the wider soci-ety is becoming more open about homosexuality, religious life is likewise becoming more open. It is now widely acknowledged that there are homosexual and bisexual brothers and sisters in our communities who are spiritually deep, ministerially effective, and faithfully celibate, just as there are heterosexual religious who embody these same qualities¯ We salute them all. Hopefully, we are growing to the point where we can say: (1) We will not tolerate or cover up deliberate violations of celibate chastity; (2) we will279 . ~Vlay-June 1998 Pable ¯ Skil~ Needed for Celiba not tolerate any discrimination against any brother or sister because of his or her sexual orientation; (3) we will not demand perfection in matters of chastity--only that each of us try to grow, even by our mistakes and sins, toward faithful and loving celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of God. Interpersonal Skills Most celibate religious eventually learn to control their gen-ital sexual drive--through common sense ("monitoring fantasy"), self-discipline, prayer, and the grace of God. What is often more difficult, however, is to deal with longings for emotional inti-macy: the experience of closeness, sharing, and exchange of affec-tion with at least one other person as a kind of healing for the sense of loneliness. Celibates know they are called to love the people entrusted to them, though this is often a one-way love with little reciprocity. Moreover, celibates can and do have good friendships marked by true mutuality. But the vow of chastity does require them to renounce the desire for "that one special

Issue 57.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1998. ; lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Cbristian lives. The articles in the jou.rnal are meant to be ~nformative, practical, bistorical, or inspirational,°written from a tbeologi.cal o.r spiritual Or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creatio.n of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joe~ Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Pa~icia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 4 contents 342 looking forward Encountering Hinduism: Being Stretched by God Elizabeth Hillis OCD presents her own experience of encountering another religion as a valuable gift and a new way of deepening our faith in God, who is always greater' than our understanding. 354 Towards the Millennium Donald Macdonald SMM ponders the different a'pproaches to the millennium--through our focus on circumstance or our focus on Christ. 368 pioneers Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom: Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys Marion Norman IBVM presents, from the changing world of three and four centuries ago, two venturesome women as models of lived wisdom for the church and world of today. 387 A Path Traced Out: Providence in Mother Theodore Guerin's Life Mary Roger Madden SP draws a picture of Mother Theodore Guerin, a pioneer for the missions of the Sisters of Providence in the United States, who will be beatified on 25 October 1998. 33-8J Review for Religious 394 consecrated life Merger Issues and Ways to Address Them Beatrice M. Eichten OSF describes core issues involved when religious congregations seek some sort of merger and offers practical reflections on how to go about it. 4O7 Refounding by Honing the Purpose Concept Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR distinguishes two pursuits, purpose and values, and shows how such careful thinking can help religious in the renewal of their lives together. 419 living together Community: Intentional or. ? Catherine Harmer MMS clarifies the meaning of Christian community, with its four elements of support, challenge, accountability, and discernment. 429 Community Living: A Question of Balance Melannie Svoboda SND, on two continuums, sketches expectations and caring within religious communities and then offers individuals and communities some reflection questions. departments 340 Prisms 435 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Obedience: Background and Development 441 Book Reviews ~dy-August 1998 Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you shall forgive. prisms One of the most moving moments for me during a meeting with women and men religious in Johannesburg, South Africa, had to do with forgiveness and reconciliation. One of the participants, an Augustinian novice director, observed that, just as the government had set up a Truth and Reconciliation Commission to bring a certain peaceful closure to the painful memories of the apartheid era, so it might be help-ful in the church and in our various religious congrega-tions to establish a similar kind of commission. He noted: "The differences in policies and practices among whites, coloreds, and blacks--in our memberships and in our min-istries, not just between parish congregations but even within a single province of women or men religious---have caused pain and left scars that a church or religious-life truth and reconciliation commission might go a long way to healing." A deeply reflective silence followed, and then a chorus of voices began to express a universal agreement among the white, colored, and black religious present that this agenda needed to be pursued in future meetings among the conference members. Our life experience tells us that we human beings do not easily come to forgiveness and reconciliation. We even find the gift of forgiveness by God the most difficult of God's many gifts for us to accept. Commonly we try to earn forgiveness; we attempt to "make up" for whatever we have done badly or left undone. Our behavior is just as consistent in our relations with one another as it is with God. It is often evident in the way we offer forgiveness: on Review for Religious the condition that the person--whether it is my brother or sister, my son or daughter, my friend or fellow worker--performs in a way to deserve it. And yet forgiveness is just that: a gift "given for" someone. Jesus made it clear through his parables and his example that forgiveness is first a gift from God--given for us--and then God invites us into sharing the gift by the way we live. God so much wanted us to share in the divine way of acting that in the prayer that Jesus taught, it is the only petition to which our personal actions are connected: "Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us." Forgiveness is so far beyond our ordinary human capacities, Jesus seems to indicate, that, we need to pray for the gift in every "Our Father" we say. On that first Easter Sunday evening, Jesus appears to his dis-ciples-- all locked up in fear--and offers first for their peace the gift of his Spirit. With the permanent gifting of the Holy Spirit comes the power for us to forgive. The church for centuries has seen in these very words the foundation of the sacrament of rec-onciliation. But, long before the sacramental system was clearly delineated, the church understood the gifting of the Spirit and the power to forgive as an essential part of our Christian living in peace. Like Jesus, we are meant to stand ready always to forgive. The old saw "to err is human, to forgive divine" is very true. Even with the baptismal and confirmation gift of the Spirit, we more often feel weighted by our human meanness than moved by divine forgiveness. At first we might be inclined to think of forgiveness as being about the past. But, just as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission may be recalling past happenings only to look towards the future of South African society, so God's forgiveness of us and our forgiveness of one another always look toward the future--the way we will relate and the way we will act. That is why, as we prepare to enter into the third millennium, we need to invoke the Spirit. For our wbrld of age-old hatreds and fresh hurts cries out for us Christians to give witness to the precious gift of forgiveness. Giving witness to forgiveness--that will be our new evangelization. David L. Fleming SJ ~ly-August 1998 ELIZABETH HILLIS Encountering Hinduism: Being Stretched by God looking forward I am a Christian, a contemplative religious, yet for sev-eral years I have been learning about my God and about my faith from Hinduism. Is this a contradiction? Is it unusual? I do not think so. Religious pluralism surrounds us and allows us to cross boundaries that once set us apart from those who believe differently. Theologians study and write about how other religions experience God and the world; East-West dialogues have been set up between Christian and Buddhist monastic communities; in secu-lar and professional life we frequently encounter Hindus and Muslims, take classes in yoga, read about kundalini awakening, practice Zen sitting. How is the Catholic to grapple with the challenge to faith presented by such encounters? There is no easy answer, but from prayer-fully reflecting on my own experience I have gained some insights into this important adventure. First, I would like to make clear my belief that encountering.another religion is a valuable gift, that it is actually a divine call to open ourselves to a new way of finding ourselves in a world that is growing smaller, a new way of deepening our faith in God., who is always greater than our understanding. This gift may noF be for everyone, and it is seldom something we choose for ourselves. It just happens. Then we have to make room for it in our lives, room which may reorganize everything else. That is how Elizabeth Hillis OCD writes from Carmel of the Holy Family; 3176 Fairmount Boulevard; Cleveland Heights, Ohio 44118. Review for Religious it was for me, and this article presents some aspects of what I have learned in the process. My first direct contact with Hinduism was through a medical professional whom I met in 1989. From my first meeting with her, I was impressed with something that I felt instinctively had to do with her Indian origin and her Hindu beliefs. What drew me to her seems to have been related to the quality of her silence and serenity. Though busy with her medical practice and busy with being a wife and the mother of teenage children, she seemed to. possess a poise and centeredness, an evenness of mind and judgment, a detached yet focused compassion for her patients and colleagues that was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. She seemed to have a secret source of strength. She once gave this state of centeredness a Sanskrit name, sthita-prajna, and spoke of how she had seen this quality in her own mother the last time she saw her before she died. With her husband and children, she had returned to India to visit her parental home. Her mother had welcomed them joyously, but,. when it came time for them to leave, the mother was equally able to let them go. Her outward serenity seemed clearly to come from serenity within. It was the same quality that I had noticed in this woman. Stbita-prajna, written on a small piece of Post-it paper (that I still have!), was the beginning of my study of Hindu religious texts. My first reading was of the Bhagavad-Gita, probably the most pop-ular and widely read of all the Hindu scriptures, and that which is dearest to many Hindus. There, in the second chapter, I met stbita-prajna again, where K_rishna explains to Arjuna the qualities of an integrated person who can regard all things, persons, and experi-ences equally with detached interest. The Gita states: When a man puts from him all desires that prey upon the mind, himself contented in self alone, then is he called a man of steady wisdom. Whose mind is undismayed though beset by many a sor-row, who for pleasures has rio further.longing, from whom all passion, fear, and wrath have fled, such a man is called a man of steadied thought, a silent sage. Who l~as no love for any thing, who rejoices not at whatever good befalls him nor hates the bad that comes his way-- firm-stablished is the wisdom of such a man. And when he draws in on every side his senses from their proper objects as a tortoise might draw in its limbs--firm-stablished is the wisdom of such a man.~ ~uly-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism While this text does not represent the whole of Hindu thought, it does touch on an important element, the yoga (or practice) of renunciation. What is renounced here is not human activity or experience, but the tendency to attach oneself to human experi-ences in such a way that they destabilize the self. These are the "desires that prey upon the mind." Pleasures and sorrows, good and bad experiences, still come and go, but they no longer disturb the person who is established in the truth of the self (atman). Such a person lives in a state of equanimity, stbita-prajna, "steady wisdom" or stable consciousness. My friend had seen this in her mother, and I had seen it in her. In ~ubsequent conversations she explained her understand-ing of a related discipline, what the Gita calls karma yoga or the "yoga of detached action." All work is to be done with detach-ment because it is our duty. Attachment to the reward of our works ties us to what we do; nonattachment frees us from such bondage to deeds (karma). Therefore, detached, perform unceasingly the works that must be done, for the man detached who labors on to the highest must win through. (BG 3.19, p, 55) Furthermore, offering the work to God is a spiritual sacrifice that brings freedom. Content to take whatever chance may bring his way, sur-mounting all dualities, knowing no envy, the same in success and failure, though working still he is not bound. Attachment gone, deliverance won, his thoughts are fixed on wisdom: he works for sacrifice alone, and all the work he ever did entirely melts away. (BG 4.22-23, p. 59) The Gita goes on to teach that the person who is stabilized in self, sthita-prajna, and who engages in d~tached action, karma yoga, has yet another step to take toward complete integration and freedom: devotion or bhakti. This is to make all existence, all action, a means of loving God. The god referred to in the Gita is Krishna, an incarnation of Vishnu, and it is he who instructs Arjuna: "Let him sit, his self all stilled . . . his thoughts on Me, integrated, yet intent on Me" (BG 6.14, p. 66). Thus the stabi-lization of self and the yoga of detached action are not enough by themselves to bring liberation: one needs to focus the mind and heart entirely on a personal god. Bhakti (loving devotion) is nec-essary; a surrender to the divine being both completes the task of personal integration and makes it possible. Review for Religious The source of all am I; from Me all things proceed: this knowing, wise men commune with Me in love, full filled with warm affection . To these men who are ever inte-grated and commune with Me in love I give that integration of the soul by which they may draw nigh to Me. (BG 10.8,10, p. 78) Steady consciousness, detached action, and loving devotion to a personal god, such are a few basic teachings of the Gita which might be an interesting parallel to the Christian path toward union with God. But I am not sure that the study of Hindu texts alone would have held my interest if it had not been for the liv-ing example and friendship of a contemporary Indian woman who was willing to share with me her own experience of her religion. In addition to our infrequent conversations, I had the witness of her own life, which concretely modeled what I~read. She partic-ularly exemplified the path of karma yoga by making offerings to God of her everyday actions: her medical practice, her care of husband and children, driving a car, shopping. I am not speak-ing here of a woman who was externally "religious" in an obvious way. She was far from any Hindu community where she might visit a temple or gather with others in .devotional rituals. Her home, her clothing, her habits were fully American. Her children attended the local public high school. Yet she was attempting to conform her life to the wisdom of the Gita, to live an integrated life as best she could, to work with detachment, to teach her chil-dren the values and beliefs she had internalized. Did she succeed? It seems to me that she did in a way she never planned. In November 1991 she was diagnosed as having a brain tumor, which in spite of all treatment slowly took every-thing away from her: her medical practice, her power of thought and judgme.nt, and even life itself. In this situation of tragedy, she asked, not (as we all might) "Why me?" but "Why now?" She regretted more than anything that she would not see her chil-dren grow up. Yet at the same time she struggled to live in a spirit of self-surrender, one day at a time, sometimes feeling better, often feeling worse. I saw in her a growing search for a hope that could take her beyond the limitations of her physical weakness. From time to time she asked her husband to bring her to our monastery chapel, where she spent time in silent meditation, sit-ting beside him or with one of her sisters who had come from India to care for her. She brought all of her family to meet me, to Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism talk about meditation, or to share her questions on whether to seek further treatment. She asked for the address of a place of prayer where she could make a retreat, though she was never well enough to carry out this i~lan. . For me it is significant that this Hindu woman found in a Christian monastic setting a place where she could experience peace and gain insight again into how to live her life fully to the end. We had never spoken of religious questions with a view to converting one another, and yet, with each other's help, both of us had grown in following our own path to God. I like to think that, just as her %lues and beliefs had deepened mine, the witness of a contemplative religious had helped develop in her the "devo-tion" to a personal god that she knew from the Gita: Whoso at the hour of death, abandoning his mortal frame, bears Me in mind and passes on, acdedes to my own mode of being; there is no doubt of this . Then muse upon Me.always. for, if you fix your mind and soul on Me, you will, nothing doubting, come to Me. (BG 8.5,7, p. 72) I have no evidence that my friend found consolation in this text of the Gita as I do now when I think back to her last months. There comes a time when we cannot accompany those we love in their final journey. But knowing that these scriptures were part of the fabric of her life makes me sure that their content and mean-ing had been internalizeddn the way that we Christians have sim-ilar texts engraved in our memory and our heart: "Come to me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest" (Mr 11:28). In~ the end the truths that we live by, and die by, are very simple. I miss Shobha. I know that in some mysterious way my life was changed by our friendship. But it was also changed by the religious encounter that was the context of our relationship. Since her death I have studied Hinduism patiently and perseveringly from many different perspectives, and I know that I shall con-tinue to. do so because, just as it did in the beginning through her, this encounter with another religion still constantly reveals God to me. I have taken some time to detail what "happened" to me. Now I need to question how I have (or have not) integrated it into my life. How do I remain a Christian and deepen my Christian under-standing and commitments by learning from Hinduism? How Revlew for Religious does anyone stay balanced when crossing the boundary that nor-mally sets Christian experience apart from the non-Christian? I have formulated four guidelines for my own use, which could be applied to any situation of interreligious exploration, but which here I apply to my study of Hinduism. They are, briefly: (1) Take seriously the differences between my own tradition and that of another religion. (2) Pay attention to the details that I notice. (3) Follow the questions that naturally arise. And (4) keep looking back at my own tradition. First, I need to take seriously the differences between my Catholic beliefs, theology, and practices and those I see in a Hindu friend or read about in a Hindu text. Great injustice can be done both to my own self-understanding and to my real appreciation of the "other" if I look only for similarity of shared views or experience. We may have much in common, but there is probably a much greater area of difference. To over-look this, or to settle for a vague intuition of universal connectedness, is not helpful. It may even be harmful, and it is certainly not respectful of the other. It is usually not true that we are all saying the same things in dif-ferent words. Very often we are saying quite different things about the divine, about human life, and about the nature of human/divine interaction. I had to keep this realization in mind during my conversations with Shobha. It was necessary for me continually to ask myself what she meant by a certain explanation of her beliefs. I had to go to the texts she quoted and try to understand them as she did rather than separate out inspiring' thoughts that fit comfortably into my Catholic framework. An example is found in the texts quoted above from the Bhagavad-Gita and the Gospel of Matthew. In both places the words "come to me" are used, by Jesus and by Krishna. Yet the context shows that Matthew's Jesus is inviting his hearers to human discipleship in the present life, a discipleship which involves a specific sort of following, a willingness to learn of Christ, humility of heart, and the patient carrying of the burdens of life. On the other hand, the Krishna of the Gita calls the devo- How does anyone s tay balanced when crossing the boundary that normally sets Christian experience apart from the non-Christian? Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism tee to an inner concentration on his divine being, leaving behind any attachment to human life which could tie the soul to earthly existence and necessitate further cycles of rebirth. In both situa-tions divine comfort is offered to the person who approaches God in loving trust, but in one case the fulfillment given by Jesus is incarnational while, in the other case, material exis(ence must be transcended for the sake of merging with Krishna in his univer-sal form. On the surface it is natural that the words of Krishna would call to mind those of Jesus, but it must always be kept in mind that Krishna is not Christ, nor is his relationship to the devotee the same as that of Christ to the Christian disciple. It seems best to let the differences simply stand as they are. We can learn from the tension of holding these texts side by side and see-ing both what they are saying and what they are not saying. We also learn the detachment of letting others come to Krishna dif-ferently than we come to Christ. This recognition of difference leads into the second guide-line, to pay attention to the details we notice. It is in the details that we most frequently confront the differences that exist between religions. Although it may seem helpful to generalize about another religion in order to have a coherent way to grasp its tenets and the interrelationship of belief and practice, such generaliza, tion gives a false sense of mastery. It glosses over unwieldy facts which do not fit the pattern that a predetermined theology assigns to "non-Christian" experience. If we really want to take another religion seriously, it is worthwhile to read its sacred writings and hear what its followers have to say about themselves. This means attentive listening and openness to a diversity we might not expect. Unfamiliar mythology will frequently perplex us; moving rituals or insightful texts will possibly attract us; exotic practices may repel us. In one way or another, a good many unmanageable details will keep us aware that Hinduism is vast, complex, and varied in its expressions. It takes time and serious application on our part to identify and unlock the meaning of certain key con-cepts. Patient attention to the details we do not understand keeps us in a position of humility. There is much we may have to leave unexplored and unexplained. This is in itself a most respectful way of approaching the "other"--to acknowledge the mystery and to let it stand as it is. It is God we are meeting in this mys-tery of the other, God who acts in the lives .and values of real people who do not believe or think or Worship as we do, God Review for Religious whose grace is far more extensive than our theological constructs might have us realize. Details lead us to question what we are learning. It is impor-tant at this point to follow the questions that arise and to allow them to open new questions, new vistas of understanding, and new mys-teries of God that we cannot begin to penetrate. When the details make me aware that Krishna cannot really be considered a Christ-figure, that he teaches a very different sort of doctrine than Jesus, then I naturally begin to ask: Who is this Krishna? What is his origin? How is he human, how divine? What sort of deity is he? How do people relate to him, worship him, love him, serve him? Such questions are the heart of interreligious experience, but they probably cannot be asked until we have gone through the pre-liminary steps of taking seriously the other religion. As long as I do not consider Krishna to be an authentic deity for a con-siderable number of real people, there is a danger that I will consider him to be only a fable, a religious fiction that need not be reckoned with in a serious way. The situation becomes even more complex if I .begin to follow these initial questions and find that there is not only the Krishna of the Gita, but also the Krishna of north-Indian mythology and the Krishna of south-Indian devotional poetry. How are they the same deity and how different and how do the various strands of the Krishna tradition combine and intermingle? To find out who Krishna is will lead me to question what a deity is, how mythology is part of every religious figure, how story and experience and ritual play a part in the development of belief. These vast questions have opened up for me simply because I paid attention to details about a god who is foreign to my religious tradition. It soon becomes obvious that, to pursue these questions, one must study seriously. This is an important point because encoun-tering another religion has to engage more than my feelings of attraction or repulsion or my intuition of realities beyond words. I need to use my mind in a careful and persevering way in order to enter into the world of the Hindu, who may seem to have Encountering another religion has to engage more than my feelings of attraction or repulsion or my intuition of realities beyond words. ff~dy-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encounte~ing Hinduism human feelings of devotion similar to mine, but whose way of thinking about religious truths may be unlike any systematic approach familiar to me. Unless thought is explored by thought, there can be no real understanding of the other. To set ourselves to this task is, in one sense, to pursue an unrealistic goal, because the scope of another religion is so vast and the context so for-eign. Yet the very impossibility of the endeavor to think beyond our categories is what calls us to begin, in whatever small ways we can. To try to think with a Hindu about her beliefs, even by read-ing a sacred text she treasures, to set aside prejudgments that would restructure her beliefs in a Christian framework, to thoughtfully pursue questions about the differences we see, but without ever coming to the end of those questions, is to stumble into the vastness of God with a new appreciation of how very limited is the human grasp of Divine Reality. Vv'hen it is so difficult and time consuming to learn about another religion, why would anyone bother? The reason may be that there is an Other whom we do not know and curiosity leads us to investigate beyond what is familiar and comfortable. The exploration of cosmic space is an example of the insatiable need we have to go where we have never been, to understand what we do not yet know. In the experience of going beyond our bound-aries, an incredible miracle can happen. Our astronauts experi-enced it the first time they walked on the moon. It was the miracle of looking back and seeing the planet Earth as one single unit, not a globe divided into nations and territories. It so changed their view of life that, when they returned home, they were impelled to do all they could for unity among the peoples who inhabit the planet, to share their vision of the whole with as many as could receive it. A similar paradigm shift occurs when we try to step into the world of another religion: we see the human quest for God in a different way than before. It becomes necessary to work for a more reverent view of the religious "other." It is no longer possible to criticize or to compete or even to compare; in whatever limited way we can, we must seek to understand. Boundaries between countries and differences between religions will continue to exist, and such differentiation is healthy. But the boundaries can become permeable; the differences can contribute to increased self, understanding. The last step in the process of learning from another religion seems to be that it leads us to keep looking back at our own tradi- Review for Religious tion. Whether we start our investigation because we are curious, or because it seems a good thing to pursue, or simply because it "happens" to us, we will always find it necessary to look back. We need to be firmly grounded in our own tradition and to be deepening our roots continuously as we look outward. In my case, many years of pondering the Scriptures, the Carmelite mystical tradition, and other Christian mystical writings--and some famil-iarity with theology--give me a stable position for looking into Hinduism. I am spontaneously attracted to the writings of Hindu mystics, and these, in turn, call me back to well-known Christian texts that seem almost parallel in their expression of the search for God. Let us put the above-quoted text from the Gita on detached work alongside a maxim of John of the Cross: Therefore, detached, perform unceasingly the works that must be done, for the man detached who labors on to the highest must win through. Content to take whatever chance may bring his way, surmounting all dualities, knowing no envy, the same in ~uccess and failure, though working still he is not bound. Attachment gone, deliverance won, his thoughts are fixed on wis-dom: he works for sacrifice alone, and all the work he ever did entirely melts away. (Bhagavad-Gita 3.19, 4.22-23, pp. 55 and 59) God is more pleased by one work however small, done secretly, without desire that it be known, than a thousand done with the desire that people know of them. Those who work for God with purest love not only care nothing about whether others see their works, but do not even seek that God himself know of them. Such persons would riot cease to render God the same services, with the same joy and purity of love, even if God were never to know of these. (St. John of the Cross, Sayings of Light and Love, 20)2 When texts are paired in this way, we can look back and forth between one tradition and another and gain from the light each one reflects upon the other. We see the obvious and important dif-ferences and the questions which these raise, but this need not prevent us from letting the two texts illumine one another. Francis X. Clooney SJ, to whom I am indebted for this insightful model of comparison, makes this comment about parallel texts: "As I read back and forth., each keeps showing me a way to the other, ~uly-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism and I end up with a doubled insight, a spiritual 'sense that goes beyond either text by itself. Pairing texts such as these creates a visual tension and emphasizes the enhancement of meaning occurring when we take our own tradition and another seriously and reverently, at the same time, together.''3 Such a bringing together of texts provides a way of integrat-ing our previous Christian commitment with any experiences that cross religious boundaries. Each encounter with the "Other" echoes back to something familiar even as it draws us beyond. We learn to look alternately in both directions without criticism or superiority, but in humble and careful appreciation. Actually what seems to take place when we look into another religion and then back at our own over a period of time is a weaving back and forth between the two in such a way that the ideas, texts, or expe-riences complement each other and intermingle fruitfully without distortion of their origin.al identity. We do not try to force par-allels, but merely look back and forth from one text to another where different traditions are attempting to grapple with com-mon questions about human experience of the divine. What I learned from Hinduism about sthita-prajna, about karma yoga, and about bhakti enable me to take a new look at detachment, duty, and devotion and at the freedom I have in sur-render to Christ. My frame of reference is not the same as that of the Gita; I am not a devotee of Krishna, but a disciple of Christ. Yet I believe I am a better follower of the gospel and a better reli-gious because of my contact with the Gita and with a woman whose life exemplified for me her Hindu beliefs. My questions about Krishna and what sort of deity he is lead me to look at what sort of God I worship and love and serve in Jesus. Without the vantage point of Hinduism, without (as it were) standing on the moon, I might not have had the perspective to look back and see in simpler terms the unity of my own Catholic faith and the rad-icality of my contemplative quest. I am certain that, without step-ping outside my own Catholic worldview, I would not have been grasped and changed by the vastness of God, who is very present in Hinduism in a way that will always be a mystery to me. The gift of encountering another religion is well worth the demands it makes on us in time, openness, vulnerability, or patient study. There is risk, but if we look back as well as forward, if we stay poised in the tension created by who we are as Catholic and how we are discovering God in non-Christian experiences, if we Review for Religious pay attention to differences, details, and questions, it is very pos-sible that we will be overtaken by the miracle of finding ourselves anew in a world of faith, where we learn from our non-Christian neighbor how very big God is. Notes ~ The Bhagavad-Gita 2.55-58, trans. R.C. Zaehner (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969), p. 52. The Zaehner translation of the Gita is the most tex-tually accurate, but I quote with apology for the lack of inclusive lan-guage. The Sanskrit text meant "he" because it was primarily addressed to higher-caste males. 2 The Collected Vdorks of St. John of the Cross, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1991), pp. 86-87. 3 Francis X. Clooney SJ, "In Ten Thousand Places, in Every Blade of Grass: Uneventful but True Confessions about Finding God in India, and Here Too," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 28, no. 3 (May 1996), pp. 1-42, esp. pp. 2-3. See also his "Praying through the Non-Christian," Review for Religious 49, no. 3 (May-June 1990), pp. 434-444, and his Seeing Through Texts (New York: SUNY Press, 1996). In chapter 5 of this work, Clooney gives many illuminating examples of parallel Hindu and Christian texts. Many foreign missionaries depend upon people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363 or fax: 314-977-7362 L353.-- July-August 1998 DONALD MACDONALD Towards the Millennium Ibrecall a series of magazine articles on foreign travel written y people who had never been to the countries they described--this approach would be objective! The magazine was, of course, being humorous. But, in fast-moving times such as ours, we perhaps speak too glibly of the years ahead. Wisely, then, does Tertio millennio adveniente emphasize "preparation for." with a view to being ready for the psychological dynamism of a new beginning should it come. For it is better to examine the present moment with a view to the future than to just dream of what may or may not be. From the Christian perspective, we have the choice of cen-tering either on circumstance or on Christ. I shall sketch briefly what each of these choices means, and then examine them both at greater length. The center of gravity of mature individuals, it has been said, is always to be found where they actually are. Such people accept responsibility for and from the situation in which they now find themselves, even when it is a difficult one. While all of us grow older, not all of us grow up, and so not everyone manages to retain this center of gravity, this poise. We do not automatically mature. People try to avoid responsibility and look for the gap in the hedge. By profession, by publicly giving our word, we religious are considered to have invested ourselves in a group of people who have the intention of identifying with the will of God. Here we are Donald Macdonald S!VIM writes for us the first time eve~ from his native Scodand: Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead; G78 1TA; Scotland, U.K. Review for Religious meant to strike root, and growing maturity should help us exam-ine the present and future landscape from that perspective. In practice, then, our center of gravity is either in circum-stance or in Christ. Present circumstances, like the electricity bill, seem so real as to define reality; they appear so immediate that response to them seems inescapable. Yet, if we are always latch-ing on to current circumstance, reacting to what we think is hap-pening, we should not be surprised to find ourselves with the patchwork personality of a rag doll. It is almost impossible to have a center of gravity in forever changing circumstance. To drive a particular car, the advertiser tells us, means "You know you are a success." Equally the ecology lobby may suggest an indifference to our present environment. Fashions change even in church and religious life. Wise are the religious who never iden-tify wholly with what they are doing at the expense of who they are. To have even a toehold in the present, it helps to have a foothold in the past; "real development is not leaving things behind as on a road, but drawing life from them as from a root.''~ Taking our identity and sense of worth chiefly from present cir-cumstance can never give us such a root; hence, as the millen-nium approaches, there is a sense of rootlessness among many people, people who are subject to the tyranny of the contempo-rary. On the other hand, what is our perspective on life when our center of gravity is in Christ? The ministry [of Christ] has gone on for nineteen centuries and more, and it still goes on. What is the secret of its stay-ing power? The answer of the whole New Testament is that it is the risen Christ himself who is carrying it out. It is very easy for us, who have been brought up in a scientific age, to think of Jesus bequeathing his principles and ideals to his followers and leaving it to them to take up and carry on the task he is presumed to have laid down somewhere about A.D. 30. That is not the New Testament picture at all. There can be little doubt that, if it had been left to the disciples to take up tasks, their choice would have fallen elsewhere . No: the secret of the matter is that it is Christ who picks up the threads, Christ who takes the lead, Christ whose presence and power are one constant inspiration and strength. The resurrection means above all just this, that Christians do not inherit their task from Christ, they share it with him. We are not the successors of Jesus but his com- ~dy-August 1998 MacdonaM ¯ Towards the Millennium panions. That is the measure both of our privilege and our personality.2 Insofar as this insight of faith matures and truly becomes our own, we are taken out of ourselves into a growing realization of the gift of God in Christ in the present moment. This should be an endless source of wonder. We mature as Christians precisely insofar as we realize the wonder of the companionship offered through our baptism into Christ--that we are in the church and with him in the church. Transfiguration into Christ should be seen as a real option. Generations of saints and the genuinely good prove it. There is a world of difference between "succes-sor" and "companion." If we have not matured in Christ, as the New Testament understands it, we shall never understand this, and that perspective will not be ours. We are then unable to see what is there in the present moment in Christ. We are left to look for meaning and purpose in life elsewhere, not least in response to circumstances over which we have little control. A Prey to Circumstance The first thing to be said about approaching the millennium under the tutelage of circumstance is that we may not see it. We may have died. We may, too, be ill or incapacitated. Our limited circumstances will be world enough for us then. Some of us may decide to jump ship to look for a safer berth outside of our order or congregation. This is understandable as a response to circum-stance. Circumstances change and we fear the changes. What will happen to us in the millennium? The thought of sitting among strangers all day in a home for the elderly run by the town coun-cil, with little status and less independence, can really frighten us. Seen as changing circumstances, the millennium means inse-curry. That then, for the first time since our prot~ession, we might find ourselves genuinely "poor in fact and spirit" (Perfectae cari-tatis §13) might weigh little against our fear of radically changing circumstances. We will likely feel bullied and frightened as the coming millennium takes us into an unfamiliar world that we can-not control. We may also be afraid of the changing culture, particularly in the West. The values which to some extent have formed us and to which we have tried to give our lives may increasingly be pushed to the edge. The sales person with a product nobody wants is in Review for Religious a frightening position. Contemporary movers and shakers who set the pace and seem to write the agenda for living may marginal-ize us. The millennium may see us, then, washed further up onto the shore of utter irrelevance. Who are we then? From a Christian standpoint, there is a progressive coarsen-ing of life generally. The positive values of our culture--built on our Judeo-Christian ethic, however imperfectly practiced--have hitherto managed to order relationships between individuals, neighborhoods, bureaucracy, law, and society. Shared assumptions mapped out life around us. This is now changing. The unborn, children, and the elderly are particu-larly vulnerable. The intrinsic dignity of individuals as created by God and redeemed by Christ, along with that dignity's call for respect, is under increasing pressure as the gospel light which illumined human reality is dimmed. Tabloid newspapers and media culture generally appear to be governed by "the bottom line." People are treated cruelly and privacy is invaded as the poor and immature are exploited to make a dead-line. The worldwide picture seems even worse. Power, money, and sex have always been dominant in human behavior, but the pounds, francs, and dollars purchased in that world are often at the expense of the basic currency used there--people. Inevitably, reli-gious whose identity is primarily from circumstance will be influ-enced when not overwhelmed by this. They may approach the coming millennium in a state of free-fall, with numbing fear rather than challenging expectation. Contemporary culture is not wholly negative. The concern for our global environment is a positive value without being made an ersatz religion as well. There is, too, an active social concern to better the lives of people worldwide. But even here, with icons like Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, and many a selfless Christian neighbor, the picture painted is often of the church scrambling to catch up with something contemporary and worthwhile whose impetus comes from elsewhere. Whether this is true or not is beside the poin.t to people who take their cue. mainly from the present situation. We mature as Christians precisely insofar as we realize the wonder of the companionship offered through our baptism into Christ. y~uly-dug'ust 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium A further positive value is a growing awareness of transcen-dence and the spiritual. The church, which religious represent and which, one might think, could offer so much here, is again dis-advantaged. A common perception is that the Christian religion emphasizes morality at the expense of spirituality whereas Buddhism, for example, gives primacy to spirituality. It is sad to see this, but in practice it is often the gospel as lived and preached even by committed believers. The Pauline way of centering first on Christ, and then from within that companionship being open to life regardless of circumstance, is far from universal in Christianity as commonly experienced. There is often no real understanding of the motivation for Christian behavior. Religious marked with that lack are handicapped in approaching the mil-lennium. We cannot bring to the millennium values we do not yet have. An increasing desire for the spiritual cannot be met by religious who do not know how to mine that seam from within the past aiad present of their church. Whoever thinks of the future must be concerned with the worrying question of vocations to religious life. In much of the world, families are becoming smaller. The two-child family is not especially suited to being the home of vocations to religious life. And, with family relationships frequently breaking up, the home is not often a likely place for the nurture and support of religious vocations. Against this background the'shortage of candidates cannot just be put down to "bad" men and women religious not living up to the evangelical life to which they are committed. Young people growing up in a sometimes decadent media/pop culture readily get used to being fed on a diet of having rather than giving. "What's in it for me? It does nothing for me! The magic's gone! I'm too young for responsibility!"--such words, all turning on the idea of self-fulfillment, do not create a seedbed for future vocations to any form of adult Christian life. Long-term, open-ended, lifelong commitment is increasingly rare in contemporary culture. Nothing lasts. You are always let down. In nominally Christian communities, many adults do not mea-sure up and do not take responsibility for where they are. The increasing spread of what is held to be politically cor-rect can suffocate an authentic gospel life. The young, especially, need vision and courage if they are not to succumb, in an endless succession, to one or another flavor of the month. Often what is politically correct may not be evangelically right. A newspaper Review for Religious" cartoon, for example, shows a schoolboy buying cigarettes and asking the shopkeeper to wrap them in a copy of Gay News--an acerbic comment on a government policy advocating sixteen as the minimum legal age for homosexual relations while holding to the age of eighteen for buying cigarettes. In webs of circumstance like this, many young people may not be able to hear a call to religious life that is otherwise clear and inviting. Another problem today is that for many young persons the test of reality is how they themselves experience life. No one, particularly no authority figure, is going to tell them how to live their life! They are free! Vv'hat counts is what is trueJbr them. Reality is what they feel it is. Drawing upon a wealth of 20th-century experience, they are chary of giving ourselves to a guru, whether secu-lar or Christian. From the infamous results of "only obeying orders" to the pain caused by religious guides with feet of clay, the path is littered with casualties, and the hurts go deep. What people do not so well defend themselves against--and it can be just as damaging--is losing, unawares, their freedom regarding some contemporary matters, matters about which they adopt unthink-ingly the politically correct answer. The fetters here can hold as firmly as any medieval mindset is alleged to have done, and the damage may be terminal. To vow ourselves to God in religious life means that, to a greater or lesser extent, we commit ourselves to an overarching tradition and to a particular superior. Few people like constraint, and today God, parents, teachers, and other authority figures are often treated with pointed disrespect. There seems to be a com-pulsion for people to assert themselves in opposition to them, whereas nonauthority figures are often worshiped and can take us where they will. If the surface aggression is paramount, there is litde place for trust, and so a genuinely gospel community can-not be built. If this immaturity is carried to the approaching mil-lennium, there will be an inbuilt fault in the foundations of whatever we attempt to create. In the church, superiors are sometimes seen as the unaccept-able face of religion. Yet someone has to be willing to take the The increasing spread of what is held to be politically correct can suffocate an authentic gospel life. J~dy-August 1998 Macdonald * Towards the Millennium responsibility, especially in our unsetded times. It may cost much. The superior, in thrall to circumstance, will suffer particularly, always presupposing his or her own integrity while in office. A for-mer provincial superior, reflecting on his time in office, said; "One loses one's innocence when one is in a position of author-ity. Would it were otherwise"--but he notes that the great major-ity are not the cause of his hurt.3 Cardinal Basil Hume OSB, archbishop of Westminster, spoke of being misunderstood, misrepresented, disliked, criticized, and written off as a disaster.4 (Of course, this kind of thing, in today's jargon, "goes with the territory," but also is not always unde-served.) Yet now he has come to see such suffering as really a blessing. The disguise may seem impenetrable, but the blessing is there. When circumstances chastened and hurt him despite his best endeavors, he found it a marvelous way to grow in the Spirit. In the situation he came to see that only the gospel lasts. Everything else falls away, and ultimately he is graced with the realization that there is only the fidelity of God in Christ to be relied on. St. Paul, writing from prison, would agree: "God. has gra-ciously granted you the privilege (charis) not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well" (Ph 1:29). When we feel hemmed in and hurt by circumstance as we approach the millen-nium, it would help immeasurably if we were at home with the small print of the gospel. It really does translate experience for us--provided that we focus in any and every situation not on cir-cumstance, no matter how immediate, but on our risen Lord. The Company of Christ and Each Other As the basic guide for religious "is a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel" (Perfectae caritatis §2), it follows that to attempt this we need to know how to approach the New Testament, where the authentic portrait of Christ is to be found. We should test the assumption that, come the millennium, we will really know how to do this. It is the claim of Pope John Paul II that, given "the prayerful and meditated reading of the word . . . a humble and loving lis-tening to him who speaks., one's own vocation can be discov-ered and understood, loved and followed, and one's own mission carried out.''s This is a major claim, but the Holy Father rein- Review for Religious forces it when he says "the person's entire existence finds its uni-fying, radical, meaning in being the terminus of God's word." That is to say, if we mature into habitually, instinctively being a terminus of the gospel, all the threads of a situation and the capac-ity of life to shock or puzzle us will be brought together; whatever lies deepest in us will be reached; and we will be given to see pur-pose in life. For many this is but a worthy platitude, notionally true but factually unreal. Yet the claim stands. If we can find our way to becoming a terminus of the word of God, we will not nec-essarily have a trouble-free life, but we will be given a security which jostling circumstance cannot unsettle. We are, as has been well said, then in touch with the Pilot. Imagine if we approached the millennium from within that perspective, knowing it to be true! A cameo, chiefly from a few verses of Philippians 3, gives us a glimpse of how this might be done and of the dividends to be gained from doing it. From prison St. Paul wrote to his people in Philippi to thank them for remembering him there and for gen-erously sending one of their number to help and encourage him. The backdrop to the letter (and, in truth, the foreground to Paul's understanding of community) is soon stated: "I thank my God . ¯. for your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now" (1:3,5). Invariably it is "us" with St. Paul, never "me and you" unless he is forced to "speak like a fool" in defense of his stand-ing as a genuine apostle. This fellowship (koinonia) between Paul and his people, which stems from the realization of their oneness in Christ through baptism, is the overall context in which the interchange of the letter takes place. When, as here, it is under-stood and reciprocated, it both thrills and puts new heart into him. He writes from within the strength of that relationship to encourage it and further it. That insight of responsibility for each other in Christ is as valid today as then. If we approach the millennium determined to make our baptismal fellowship real by investing ourselves in the c.ommunity, we will communicate, at a deep level. It should be a priority and is well within the competence of most of us if, for example, it is expressed in a word of appreciation, a word of sym-pathy, a word of encouragement, a word of thanks. These are the building blocks, and the present moment is the time and place to lay them. As we know from experience, a word "in season," when genuinely meant, does really help and might encourage us and ~tly-Augttst 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium those around us to reach and welcome the millennium. "Friends are facts, and the good things you have done to them are facts," said G.K. Chesterton. This is time usefully and evangelically spent. Only insofar as we mature in Christian life will we do this and be able to sense how shoes pinch other people's feet. St. Paul writes of his present situation: "I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things" (3:8). The verb suggests total loss as in shipwreck or business failure. Everything has gone--family, status, career, security, good name. He writes from prison now. Initially he was compelled to leave Philippi after being given the standard flogging for a trouble-maker. His present situation follows the same pattern. Then, as now, circumstances are none of his choosing, but in the situation, as Cardinal Hume and many others found when similarly placed, he finds God in Christ: "for his sake I have suffered the loss of all things., in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him" (3:8-9). He is in fact in prison, but Paul knows that he is in Christ! There is his center of gravity. From the viewpoint of circumstance, his fidelity to the call of God's providence in Christ has wrapped him in rags and insecurity. The same situation, seen from the insight of faith, is altogether worthwhile, for it enables him to "gain Christ and be found in him." This is a superb place to be, with an enviable grasp of reality. What a center to move out from! Religious approaching the millennium would do well to try to make that perspective theirs. Whatever the circumstance, our risen Lord is there. We date the present from the moment of Christ's birth. He is our companion now. Each moment of each day as well as the millennium finds us wanting "to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his suffering by becoming like him in his death" (3:10). The verb implies close identity, and again transfiguration is offered as a real possibility. Paul discovered this not by whisding in a cemetery or in a library, but by applying the insight of faith to the circumstances of every-day life, good days and bad. Attempting in such company to become a terminus of the word of God offers us virtually unquan-tifiable dividends. Finally, for our purposes, Paul says, "I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own" (3:12). Again the situation is prison. Paul writes of racing to the finish of a race Review for Religious when in fact he is not going anywhere without his jailers' per-mission. The marathon of the Christian life which he entered at baptism is not particularly concerned with going from A to B to C, Rather, it means interpreting the present situation through a progressive deepening of understanding of what it means to be in Christ, There is never a situation or circumstance where our risen Lord is not there. Even in the isolation of crucifixion, if life is so cruel, even there we are nailed to the cross with Christ. Paul says that he has not yet fully matured in Christ. There is always more to be sounded in those unfathomable depths. The dynamic here is the wonderful realization that "Christ Jesus has made me his own." He wants to hold as he is now being held. Held within the security of his Lord who rose from a grave to make him "his own," Paul is a driven man. He is aware that his present situation may cost him his life--"I am being poured out as a libation" (2:17)--but it can never separate him from Christ. From this unchanging center, there is much more to be received and, within himself, much still to be surrendered. So, from within the security of his risen Lord whatever the circumstance, Paul is "still running, trying to capture the prize for which Christ Jesus captured me" (3:14). The imaginative appeal Of the imagery comes from an imprisoned Christian individual writing a letter of thanks and encouragement to his no doubt frightened people. So much seems to go so wrong so often. Yet he would have them think as he does: "Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind" (3:15). Just what does he see? Religious who would be more mature as they approach the millennium could usefully examine their situation from that perspective. Does that insight interpret life for us at any level? Baptism into Christ means an invitation to a present relationship with God through the Spirit, not just loose membership in a particular group. Religious life has no other purpose than to invite us to enflesh that in ourselves by attempting to live for God alone at one with his will. The experience of St. Paul in times past is not without value, but what if it could be mine now? Understood from within a Spirit-graced Christian community, it pays altogether richer div-idends. It is not just an example of what someone did then, but an There is never a situation or circumstance where our risen Lord is not there. Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium invitation to consider what we can do now. This is interpreting life in the light of the gospel. Unifying, radical meaning is on offer here to those who try to be habitually open to receive. In Christ ours is a present reality. We are his companions, not his succes-sors trying to make what we can of a long-dead tradition. Accordingly, "to mature" means here that we have Someone to give and someone to be. This is not the least of what we can bring to the millennium. If we stay rooted in Christ, into whom we have been bap-tized, we can come to know that immediate circumstance is not all there is in defining present reality. There is no need to approach the millennium like stunned rabbits caught in the headlights. In Christ there is a vast arc of gospel fellowship among the living and the dead, all held in the present moment. We are one in Christ with so very many; and, if we can mature in their faith, we shall be given to see meaning in life. Rather than consider the millen-nium a milestone to be reached at a future date, a milestone that is being surrounded more and more by the massed choirs of the advertising media, why not stay where we are now in Christ and let the millennium (as indeed any circumstance) come to us? Always to be in the one place in Christ!--our center of gravity, our spiritual focal point, can only become more secure as we more and more see God giving himself to us there in Christ. This is where we are. We can then try to interpret circumstance through our risen Lord, knowing that, whether life is good or ill, we are never without the power of his resurrection or the fellowship of his suffering. Travel Light This is not to ~dvocate the passivity of a cow in the field. How could it when the reality of our life comes from our risen Lord who has made us his own? This is energizing, delightful presence, compelling us to be enlivened by it. Whatever a future calendar date brings, it cannot break that firm bond. Ultimately, it is all there is. We then want to make Christ really our own as he has made us truly his. For religious this should mean a hard look at our rule or founder's insight in the light of the gospel. We may have accumulated much. A mere middle-class lifestyle-- without the potentially maturing presence of husband, wife, or child--will not attract or challenge others. Should we not travel Review for Religious light to the millennium? Circumstances may be stripping us of much that we are attached to and find hard to give up, but we can nonetheless choose to drop even more. More has to be done to make our fellowship in the gospel a practical, reality. Arguably, the word community is heard now more than ever before, although there seems to be less of it. Religious profess to find God's will among a particular group of people. But only insofar as the risen Christ is real to them do imperfect individuals, living among others also imperfect and even dys-functional, have the courage to attempt this. If anything is to come of it, then, Christian maturity is essential. Without it we have nowhere to come home to--and indeed no one to be. It is no small achievement to welcome the millennium in the company of Christ and in full awareness that this company is all we have. How best to have this awareness in changing circumstances and amid lessening numbers is a problem. It is for different people to find various solutions in view of their temperaments and God-given gifts. No one can read the future, but, as T.W. Manson pointed out earlier, we are Christ's companions and the initiative of the entire gospel enterprise lies with him. There is no future for the maverick away from Christ. Inspirational individuals will always be found among those who habitually listen to the gospel, wishing to follow wher-ever it leads. Risk, challenge, and retrenching may be factors in an apostolate for the millennium. Community, it has been said, should be more like a hive than a nest. Ultimately, if the millennium finds us in Christ as the gospel understands this, we shall reflect his presence there. The pres-ence of Christ is the one ageless gift we have to offer. Circumstances change and situations sometimes frighten and even crucify, but the underlying reality for those who see with eyes of faith is the presence and power of our risen Lord. Here is where we live and move and have our being. We let life come and find us here. But we cannot do this complacently. We must foster a growing sense of awe and of our good fortune. The more real this awareness of presence is, the keener are we to share it with others. The sacraments (not least the Blessed Sacrament) are realities of presence, and we should try to share The presence of Christ is the one ageless gift we have to offer. d~lly-Augvtst 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium what we find there. They feed us as our life progresses. They are glimpses of life at the heart of our community, and they reflect mystery at the heart of reality. There is much more here than we can see, even graced by the insight of faith. As companions of Jesus, one with him and each other through baptism, we need to try to bring gospel fellowship to people in ways they can understand. Circumstances had Paul in prison miles away from his anxious people. To encourage him they sent one of their number. To thank them he wrote them a letter. They did what they could in less-than-ideal circumstances. Although cir-cumstances do not allow us to do all that we would like, we should not be discouraged from trying to do what we can with what falls into our hands. Remember, the initiative is from the presence and Spirit of our risen Lord. When we are open to his presence, we find we have a community; we have Someone to share. The millennium offers a challenge, and one of the best ways to meet it is for ourselves, our individual selves, to really make Christ our own and so try to be found always in him--and then to give from that center and invite others to meet Christ there. Our Lady and a cloud of saints once lived this life of faith, and, whatever the reasons for moving their statues from our churches and communities, we should again savor their company now in Christ. In the fellowship of the gospel, they can be real and not static presences. Many a secular idol will be worshiped as we approach the millennium. The Christian community can offer more than that. It was individuals sharing with others what they themselves had been inspired to see of the gospel who thereby inspired oth-ers so that even more followed and formed our various religious orders and congregations. We present-day members, perhaps feel-ing our lack of inspiration or vision, would do well to recognize our situation for what it is. If we are afraid, let us admit it, but let us not focus on fears without bringing to them the faith vision that so helped Paul and his people. For them this was no theo-retical exercise. It. could be equally real for us. "A loving knowl-edge of the word of God and a prayerful familiarity with it are specifically important for the prophetic ministry," says Pope John Paul. This echoes the conviction of the best in the church over centuries. This insight had and has now the power both to form an elite and encourage the frail. Review for Religious i G.K. Chesterton, The I~ctorian Age in Literature (London, no date), p. 12. 2 T.W. Manson, The Servant Messiah (Cambridge University Press, 1953), p. 98. 3 R. Rolheiser OMI, "The Last Word," The Catholic Herald (London), 4 July 1997. 4 Cardinal Basil Hume OSB, "Reflections on Leadership" (keynote address at Conference of Religious, 1997), Signum, 20 February 1997, p. 10. s John Paul II, Pastores dabo vobis, 1992. This and the next two quo-tations are from §47. Spirit Prayer Spiritt. Holy! Stirring birds and buds and Buddhists, Moving mothers, monks and Muslims, Turning wheels and churning waters, Shifting rocks and shaking ridges, Sweeping fields and forests, Raising bread and bodies, Spinning dreams and dancers, Whirling clouds and clowns, Filling sails and souls, sifting, Sounding, Singing, Sighing, Spirit, oht. Do what you do, Dance where you dance, Blow when you blow, Move us to move, To break from the laze of our days At the Word we have heard, With the Breath that will lift us from death. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ j~dy~August 1998 MARION NORMAN Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom: Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys pioneers Wisdom, which in biblical literature is usually personi-fied as a woman, is described in Proverbs 8:12-14 as "mis-tress of the art of thought" who shares house with Discretion; hates pride and arrogance, wicked behavior, and a lying mouth; and is a source of good advice, pru-dence, and perception. The Hebrew words for wisdom and wise man (hokhmah, Ex 36:2, and hokham, Jr 9:23) are used in various ways throughout the Old Testament to connote the skills needed to carry out tasks successfully. Hokhmah implies a deeper quality than cleverness, and hokham means not a clever know-it-all but a sage, one who, having acquired knowledge of the world and human nature, can penetrate to the depths of the human situa-tion, seeing it as a whole and then sharing that vision by giving prudent advice or immortalizing it in the form of proverbs or aphorisms. The prophet Jeremiah declares, "Let not the wise man (hokham) glory in his wisdom; neither let the mighty man glory in his might." In rabbinic literature, however, the wisdom of Proverbs has come to refer to the "wisdom of the Torah,". and the wise man now becomes the scholar Marion Norman IBVM (Loretto Sisters) presented this paper, here slightly revised, at the International Mediaeval and Renaissance Conference in Banff in May 1997. Her address is Loretto College; 70 St. Mary Street; Toronto, Ontario MSS 1J3; Canada. Review for Religious well versed in the Torah. The identification of Torah with wisdom dates from Deuteronomy (4:4-6): See I have imparted to you laws and rules, as the Lord my God has commanded me, for you to abide by in the land which you are about to invade and occupy. Observe them faithfully, for that will be proof of your wisdom and dis-cernment to other people, who on hearing all these laws will say, "Surely that great nation is a wise and discerning people." Thus, from originally implying little more than technical abil-ity, wisdom took on moral and religious connotations. In time it became synonymous with reverence for the Lord, as expressed in the Book of Proverbs: "Reverence for the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction" and "Let your trust be in the Lord. to show what is right and true" (Pr 24:7, 22). Hebrew wisdom was not alone in leaving its indelible mark on Western culture. Greek and Roman wisdom (usually referred to as philosophy) played a significant role as well, as did the leading Hellenistic philosophers, who claimed to teach their disciples how to live by providing moral instruction about what was right and wrong and how best to carry out their duties as individuals and in social relationships. Early Christianity perceived a certain affinity between its own aims, as expressed in the Sermon on the Mount, and those of Judaism and the best Greco-Roman philosophies. All three strains had a great influence on Western culture and, at the time of the Renaissance, came together to provide the intellectual, social, and religious context for the kinds of wisdom exemplified by the two 17th-century women of wisdom who are the subjects of this study. My selection of them has not been arbitrary. That the Bible even more than the Greco-Roman classics has' been the principal source of inspiration for both readers and writers of English lit-erature has long been recognized. Little wonder, then, that the biblical ideal of wisdom was carried over into the conduct of peo-ple's daily lives. This was particularly true of women, who, deprived of formal education in the s~ven liberal arts (reserved almost exclusively for males), relied on biblical primers and the Bible itself as their sole textbooks. We read, for instance, of female servants, shopkeepers, and housewives, especially among the Puritans, painfully acquiring a knowledge of the original biblical July-Aug'ust 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom languages for better access to the scriptural message. And, with the greater availability of biblical texts since the invention of printing and the Reformers' stress on the Bible as the "sole rule of faith," reliance on individual inspiration assumed central sig-nificance. The biblical concept of wisdom saw God as the source of wisdom for individuals seeking humbly to discover and imple-ment it as it was spelled out in the Torah. Each of these two 17th-century women received intimations of the direction in which the Lord was leading her, and, responding with docility and trust, received further clarification about God's plan for her in her own daily living. The response of Mary Ward (1585-1645) and Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620-1700) to God's invitation had implications both negative and positive. It meant, first of all, rejecting the usual pattern of marriage and family in favor of an exclusive conse-crated discipleship, freeing them for the service of the entire Christian community. This, in turn, involved a readiness to leave home and country if God asked it of them. Mary Ward For Mary Ward, at a moment in English history when adher-ence to the traditional religion was proscribed by the state and its preservation imperiled, the immediate need, as revealed to her by God and further discerned by experience, was for a total and free commitment to God that would flow out into love for oth-ers. She felt empowered to reach out to new needs and to devise whatever might be required to meet those needs. Inevitably, how-ever, the wisdom imparted in her close union with God in prayer entailed "the rejection, in whole or in part, of older, conventional patterns and methods that were no longer meeting new needs and situations. The clash between fidelity to divine guidance and official representatives of authority, as in the case of earlier bib-lical prophets like Isaiah and Jeremiah, was inevitable. Mary Ward's own response, which she constantly urged on her com-panions as well, was single-minded and unequivocal: "After busi-nesses I go to find myself in God, without any will or private interest and with a will only to have his will, which I cease not till I find."1 Mary understood this open and faithful orientation to God's will--desiring solely to love God and refer all actions to Review for Religious him--as adapting to the lives of consecrated women the lifestyle the church had already approved for Jesuits in their Formula insti-tuti. Precisely what this would entail was not revealed to her at once. In the first half of the 17th century, the cultural climate cre-ated by the Puritan and Parliamentary ascendancy brought forth a highly vocal group of educational reformers such as John Milton, John Dury, Marchmount Nedham, Samuel Hartlib, and Jan Comenius. At the same time the new scientific movement-- inspired by Francis Bacon as spokesman and promoted, under royal sponsorship, by the Royal Society of London--put Britain in touch with parallel interna-tional movements in France, Italy, and elsewhere. Voices of dissent were not failing, moreover, to speak out coura-geously on behalf of neglected groups of people--especially children of the poor and girls and women. These asserted, by their writings and actions, the rights of the counterculture against the prevailing climate of opinion, including the tendency to denigrate women. It is in the light of such conflicting views on the aims, con-tent, and methods of instruction that the enlightened and coura-geous leadership of women of wisdom like Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys should be seen. Although 17th-century politicians, theologians, and educational theorists were united in seeing the inadequacy of the current educational system to meet changing needs and priorities, they could agree on little else. Neither Francis Bacon nor John Milton apparently perceived women's education as necessary or even desirable. None seemed to see the value of preparing future mothers who would be responsible for the basic training of the young as future morally responsible and loyal citizens. For English Catholics the educational situation was particularly critical. Harassed politically, sodally, and economically and denied access to such employment as their rank and abilities deserved, they were crippled by taxes for nonattendance at Anglican services and threatened with imprisonment or death for possessing Catholic The biblical concept of wisdom saw God as the source of wisdom for individuals seeking humbly to discover and implement it. July-Aug~tst 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of V~dom books or providing accommodation to priests or Catholic instruc-tors. At an early age their children were forced to seek schooling on the continent, facing for up to nine years the loneliness, the foreign customs, languages, and climate, and the other handicaps of exile. Those without the necessary means were denied even basic instruction, while the care of the needy, the sick, the dis-abled, the aged, and the prisoners was entirely dependent on what-ever could be provided by families or individuals. Little wonder that the principal responsibility for transmission of and instruc-tion in the faith heritage devolved on the womenfolk and that, in the face of growing apostasy and indifference, a sound education for women as well as males came to be of crucial importance. Mary Ward, called by a recent historian "the greatest Englishwoman of the 17th century," was born at Mulwith near Ripon, Yorkshire, on 23 January 1585 (shortly before the defeat of the Spanish Armada) and died 30 January 1645 (shortly before the beheading of Charles I at the height of the Civil War). She came from a family noted for its staunch loyalty to the old reli-gion, which had been proscribed in England for more than sixty years. Failure to swear to the Acts of Supremacy and Succession and to attend services weekly in the local Anglican parish church made heads of families liable to imprisonment or even death. Mary's own parents and grandparents and she herself experienced such imprisonment, and several relatives were executed for their faith. The year before her birth, her fellow countrywoman, Margaret Clitherow, had been martyred at York. Like most children in such devout Catholic families, Mary received her early schooling and religious instruction in her own home and in homes of relatives and family friends. During those years she first felt the call to follow Christ in a life consecrated by vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Since the time of Christ and the Apostles (as can be seen in the New Testament), women as well as men had chosen such a way of loving discipleship. From the Middle Ages, too, despite the weight of authority against women's right to education or the exercise of leadership outside their own homes, a surprising quantity of writ-ings by women has survived. Exceptional women like Hildegard of Bingen and Catherine of Siena played prominent roles that changed the course of history, notwithstanding the patriarchalism of church and state. Until the early 17th century, however, women's accepted' mode of service of Christ, apart from that of "helpmeet" Review for Religiotts in marriage, was a lifetime spent in contemplation within monas-teries such as those of Poor Clares and Carmelites. After the dis-solution of religious houses in England, that meant for Englishwomen a lifetime of exile in some foreign climate. Prayerful discernment, as well as natural prudence and obser-vation, convinced Mary that the best way for her to give her life to the service of her "Friend of friends" would be, not marriage, but "some other thing., without all comparison more to the glory of God.-2 Further light came in November 1615 regarding the kind of holi-ness which that "other thing" would require. Rejecting the commonly held view that "women could not do good except to themselves," Mary envisioned a different kind of women's vocation, one engaged in education and other works "congruent to the times." Her institute would be one marked by "a singular freedom from all that could make one adhere to earthly things, with an entire application and apt disposition to all good works." Members would "refer all to God," doing "works of justice. [We would] be such as we appear and appear such as we are . Grounded in this, we should gain at God's hands true wisdom."3 Mary defined what came to be called her concept of "the Just Soul" in terms of three kinds of freedom: freedom from attach-ment to worldly values, freedom for all works of justice necessary in this world, and freedom to "refer all to God." Her words for this special kind of holiness ~'evealed to her were "freedom," "justice," and "sincerity" (or "verity"), the qualifies by which we as human beings participate in God's own life of goodness and wisdom, and which, she insisted, we have the right to ask and expect of God. What seems clear is that Mary, considering these three free-doms of "the Just Soul" to be the qualities essential for living out the ideal of Christian holiness as envisioned by Ignatius Loyola, could see nothing to prevent their application to women as well Mary defined "the Just Soul" in terms of three kinds of freedom: freedom from attachment to worldly values, freedom for all works of justice necessary in this world, and freedom to "refer all to God." ff'uly-Aug'ust 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of V~sdom as men. This became even more explicit in Mary's speech to her companions (1617) describing the virtues required for their way of life, of which a cleric had disparagingly said, "When all is done, they are but women." Mary's speech, because its depth of insight and vision for the future transcend her own institute and pertain to the whole concept of women's discipleship, deserves to be quoted: I would know what you think he meant by this speech . Fervor is a will to do good, that is, a preventing [preve-nient] grace of G~)d and a gift given gratis by God, which we could not merit. It is true [that] fervor doth many times grow cold, but what is the cause? Is it because we are women? No, but because we are imperfect women. There is no such difference between men and women. Therefore, it is not because we are women, but, as I have said before, because we are imperfect women and love not verity. It is not veritas hominum, verity of men nor verity of women, but veritas Domini, and this verity women may have, as well as men.4 Such was the vision that drove Mary Ward (after her two tri-als of the strictest form of women's contemplative life then known, the Poor Clares, both Flemish and English) and her five like-minded companions to cross the English Channel again in 1609. But Mary was a woman not only of vision but of practical common sense and ingenuity as well. Because at-the time both faith and morals were daily being eroded by ignorance and lack of access to the sacraments, the most pressing need seemed to be the provision of instruction for both children and adults. So, at St. Omer in the Catholic Netherlands, where there was a large English refugee population, they began educating, in secular and religious subjects, children of English refugees and the local poor. Their freedom from enclosure and from distinctive religious costume allowed them a helpful flexibility in their min-istry. They would sometimes wear fashionable dress when calling on gentlefolk (such as the archbishop of Canterbury, who had been desirous of meeting these ladies who had done "more harm than six Jesuits"), and sometimes "mean clothing" when visiting the prisoners or the sick (Mary Ward once disguising herself as a maid to gain access to a lady and bring her back to the practice of her faith),s Because adults, too, lacked instruction and often were destitute as well, the sisters extended their ministry to these further needs of those critical times.6 Review for Religious This new concept of religious life, freed of the restrictions of cloister, of government by male superiors, and of older male-inspired Rules, was so revolutionary that it proved both incomprehensible and unacceptable to ecclesiastical authorities steeped in the patriarchal assumptions of centuries. Today, when church and society are still trying to come to terms on the role of women, Mary Ward seems indeed a prophetic woman of wisdom in the Old Testament tradition. Unlike many visionaries, however, this woman had a vigorous practicality about her. What others said, Mary Ward did. Erasmus and Ftnelon said girls should be educated and, if they were above average intelligence, even taught some Latin as the key to all learning (though under male, direction, of course). Mary Ward opened schools in St. Omer, in Rome, and (under the very noses of pursuivants) even in London to provide education for all who desired it and, as far as they could, regardless of social distinctions. Guided but not bound by the Jesuit Ratio studiorum (1599), Mary believed that, since education is for life and a woman's life is not the same as a man's, the content should differ, though a woman's intellectual powers were by no means to be underrated. "God can use only good ones," she said of both teachers and pupils. So, in addition to the liberal arts and, of course, religion, her curriculum included painting, dancing, music (both vocal and instrumental), handwriting, speech training, drama, and modern languages. Language teaching was always a specialty in her schools, and for this no mere smattering would do, but only suf-ficient mastery to read the best authors of each language and to write it well.7 Originally most pupils were English refugees, but, as the schools spread throughout Europe, though English continued to be taught as a second language, the local vernaculars--French, Flemish, German, and Italian--were added. The nuns, who, as Mary Ward's Memorial of 1629 says, included '"Italians, Spanish, French, Germans, Netherlanders, Bohemians, Hungarians, English, and Irish," usually wrote to one another in Latin, Italian, or French (to make things harder for the English government's paid interceptors of mail). Another evidence of the foundress's farsightedness was that the syllabus included, besides the usual subjects, simple mathematics or "accounts." When one recalls that Samuel Pepys, secretary of the royal navy and a university graduate, required special tutoring to master the multiplication Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of VV'tsdom table, this was very avant garde indeed, as was the inclusion of "globes," a combination of geography and astronomy. As her contemporary Richard Mulcaster had urged better training for teachers, so Mary trained hers so well as to attract the favorable notice of civil authorities (according to documents in the Brussels royal archives) and to elicit a request that she set up a training school for others. As prescribed in the Jesuit Ratio stu-diorum, Mary gave high priority to the teaching and supervision of educators. Writing to their novice mistress about two of her young sisters, Catherine and Cecilia, Mary insisted that their Latin studies should have precedence over everything except prayer and, as to fears that such studies would undermine humil-ity, she sensibly added: "This must and will be so common to all that there will be no cause of complaining." As an early memo in the archives expresses it, "The design of gur school being the sanctification of the mistresses who are members of it for the children of their care, they must be. proficient in writing and reading Latin and English."s The consequences of these high standards soon became so widely recognized that, as one Bavarian ecclesiastic expressed it, "The English Ladies. instill into both aristocratic and ordinary children a noble and well-mannered mode of living., so that they are kept with a loving restraint within the limits of good manners and propriety.''9 And, while the harsh treatment of chil-dren in English boarding schools was notorious even down to the 20th century, Mary advised: "In our calling, a cheerful mind, a good understanding, and a great desire after virtue are neces-sary, but of all these a cheerful mind is the most so.''1° Whenever a foundation was made, two schools were opened simultaneously: a boarding school, mainly for English refugee girls, and a free day school, the criteria for both being tractabil-ity, good manners, and the ability to profit from study rather than wealth or social position. In fact, because of the penury of many English refugees, fees were low and often totally remitted; in any case, they seldom kept up with inflation, especially in the countries affected by the Thirty Years' War. For the poorer chil-dren, especially those in the Italian slums, she provided training in skills that would enable them to earn an honest living, so much so that complaints arose that soon there would be none left to run the houses of ill fame. In imitation of what had been done ear-lier by St. Charles Borromeo, her sisters also ran Sunday schools, Review for Religious providing young servants with religious instruction, basic lan-guage skills, and preparation for the sacraments. And in England, where the priests had a price on their heads, both children and adults were made ready to receive the sacraments and opportu-nities were provided for them to do so. For the sake of mission, one member known only to the oth-ers as Sister Dorothea, living like members of modern secular institutes such as the Grail and Focolare, served as maid-com-panion in the home of the wealthy Suffolk gentlewoman Lady Timperley. Her own description of this ministry has a singularly modern ring: "I dare not keep schools publicly, as we do beyond the seas, . . . but I teach and instruct children in the houses of par-ents . Besides teaching of children, I endeavor to instruct the simple and vul-gar sort. I teach them their. Pater, Ave, Creed, Commandments, etc . I tend and serve poor people in their sickness., make salves., endeavor to make peace among those at variance."11 For the apostolate to spread, it soon became apparent that it needed to be put on a permanent basis and also needed official approbation beyond what it had already received from the local church and civil officials. Despite the often vituperative opposi-tion already encountered (especially from certain members of the Society of Jesus and the English secular clergy, who saw in her work a challenge to their authority), Mary set out with some con-fidence to win formal approval for her institute from three suc-cessive popes: Paul v, Gregory xv, and Urban VIII. Despite ill health, poverty, dangers, and cold, she made three trips on foot over the Alps to Rome to plead her cause in person before the committee appointed to examine her Formula instituti (virtually identical with that approved for the Jesuits).~2 But, though she explained at some length her primary purpose ("striving for the defense and propagation of the faith and progress of souls in Christian life and doctrine"), the means (a new kind of women's order without walls or distinctive clothing, engaged in education and other works congruous with the times), and the instruments (women, distinguished by their well-ordered interior disposition and the virtues of freedom, justice, and verity that characterize the "estate of justice"), these were considered dangerously novel ideas Mary gave high priority to the teaching and supervision of educators. ~7~nly-Aug~st 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom bordering on heresy with which the good but somewhat obtuse legalists of the time felt unable tO cope except by denial.~3 The foundress was imprisoned by order of the Inquisition, and the institute's way of life was declared contrary to the nature of women and a danger to morals.~4 The savagely worded bull of suppression of 1631 destroyed her first institute, and its members' vows were declared null and void. They were offered the alternatives of marriage, joining some other established order, or living as individual laywomen under private vows. When Mary pointed out the state of these young women, homeless, penniless, and in times of persecution unable to return to their own country, the pope offered them a house in Rome and, under his personal protection, allowed them to resume teaching in Rome, Naples, Munich, and even London and York.~s Mary herself, exonerated of all heresy, was allowed to return to her native country, where, in the midst of the Civil War, she spent the last six years of her life. She and her com-panions remained true to the institute and loyal in obedience to the church, and they continued to be highly commended by those for whom they worked.16 After her death at just over sixty, her tombstone in the Anglican churchyard at Osbaldwick bore this touching tribute: "To love the poore, persevere in the same, live, die, and,rise again with them, was all the aim of Mary Ward.''~7 How is the wisdom revealed by God to individuals to be rec-ognized when, as happened in the case of the Old Testament prophets and Mary Ward, it runs counter to legitimate authority by anticipating the future? Diversity, according to R.B.Y. Scott in his comprehensive study of biblical wisdom, has always attended this concept's evolution and its exemplars, the prophets, as well.~8 Inevitably, however, there is conflict when the fulfillment of the vision comes up against more limited goals and values and older ways of achieving them. Such was the case in the 17th century when it became increas-ingly apparent that the well-worn structures and familiar modes of acting were insufficient to meet the sudden and unexpected challenges in the church and in the world around it. Many were unable or unwilling to accept the fact that new kinds of service were needed to meet these new challenges. In particular, the attempt of the Council of Trent to turn the clock backward, in the case of women, by insisting on enclosure, distinctive clothing, and subjection to male authority severely hampered efforts to Review for Religious envision new forms of discipleship that would free women for more effective service of the church. Instead, they were con-demned as "pernicious growths" needing to be eradicated. Their apostolate, however, continued to grow fruitfully and to encour-age imitators. When official recognition finally came at the begin-ning of the 20th century, Mary Ward's institute had spread round the world to six continents. That Mary Ward was truly a "woman of wisdom," discerning, from her intimacy with God in prayer, the practical needs of her time and place and addressing herself to meet them with pru-dence and courage, was belatedly affirmed in Vatican II's docu-ment on the appropriate renewal of religious life, Pe~fectae caritatis, which reads in part: All those who are called by God to practice the evangelical counsels., devote themse!ves in a special way to the Lord. ¯ . . The religious life is intended above all else to lead . . . to union with God. [but] the manner of living, praying, and working should be suitably adapted to the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious and also . . . to the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, the social and economic circumstances anywhere, but especially in missionary territories." (§§ 1-3 passim) Marguerite Bourgeoys Marguerite Bourgeoys was born at Troyes in the province of Champagne in 1620, her youth overlapping the latter years of Mary Ward. At an early age she had a similar experience of God's intervention in her life and felt God's gradual imparting of the gift of wisdom. In 1626, to meet the critical need in that war-torn province for religious instruction and care ofthe needy, a saintly priest, Peter Fourier, organized four hundred volunteer laywomen to go out in pairs among the poor. Attached as externs to the cloistered Congregation de Notre Dame de Troyes, they lived lives of prayer as far as their other duties permitted. Under the supervision of Mme. Louise de Chomedey, a sister of Paul de Chomedey, Sieur de Maisonneuve, the founder and governor of Montreal, Marguerite became one of three prefects in charge of the group. When her desire for the life of a consecrated religious seemed doomed to frustration (both the Carmelites and another cloistered congregation having rejected her application), she pru-dently sought an experienced guide, M. Gendret, chaplain of the J~dy-August 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom Carmelites. He advised her, while awaiting further light on God's will for her, to consecrate her life by private vows of poverty and chastity.~9 In the spirit of the much-needed religious renewal initiated in the early 17th century by st. Vincent de Paul, M. Gendret had for some time envisaged a form of consecrated life for women adapted to the needs of the time, with a mobility that existing rules of enclosure did not allow. In Marguerite Bourgeoys he now recognized the spiritual and intellectual qualities that would be necessary to lead such an undertaking. A further providential intervention in her life came with her meeting Sieur de Maisonneuve in the home of his sister Mme. de Chevilly. He was visiting France to gather a hundred recruits to work in Montreal. Explaining the need for one teacher to supply the need of reli-gious instruction for his "foolish adventure," he invited Marguerite's help. Realizing partly what it might involve for her as the only woman among male recruits, Marguerite, after prayer and after consulting her spiritual director and the vicar general of the diocese (who gave the plan their blessing), perceived it to be God's will that she should go. Arriving at Quebec on 22 September 1653 and at Ville Marie (Montreal) on 16 November, she began at once a thorough assess-ment of the needs of her new mission, the (pitifully inadequate) resources to meet them, and the obstacles to be faced (such as inclement weather and threats from hostile Indians). Some notion of the risks may be gathered from the warning sent by the French-born mystic Marie of the Incarnation, of the cloistered Ursulines, who had been teaching both native and French children in Quebec since 1639. Writing to the sisters back in Troyes, she said: "If you knew what Montreal actually is like, you would be very careful about sending religious there . . . because of the harsh conditions of the country.''2° Marguerite and her compan-ions not only endured the cold, hunger, and dangers, but also shared their scanty living quarters with the poor, even giving up their own mattresses and blankets. In early-17th-century France, the notion of women religious engaging in apostolic work was only beginning to emerge. To meet the pressing needs of the spiritually illiterate general pop-ulation and the inadequately trained clergy, St. Francis de Sales and St. Vincent de Paul had enlisted generous, skilled women to serve in education, health care, and social work. At the price of Review for Reh~ious their obtaining ecclesiastical recognition, they had had to com-promise: the Visitandines accepting the restrictions of enclo-sure (and thereby qualifying as a religious order) and the Daughters of Charity becoming a society of apostolic life, a group of pious laywomen living in common under simple vows renewed annually. It was immediately evident to the prophetic insight of Marguerite Bourgeoys that neither alternative was desirable or suitable to meet the needs and living conditions of Montreal. Apart from teaching language skills and religion free of charge to both boys and girls of the French set-tlers and military people, there were native children to be edu-cated; adults to be instructed, counseled, prepared for the sacra-ments; and health needs cared for--along with the constant threat from hostile Indian raiders and rival English colonists to the south. The sisters supported themselves by doing laundry, sewing, and mending for families after the day's teaching in school.21 Declaring their readiness to undertake just about anything required to meet the social needs of frontier life, Marguerite and her companions (their number augmented by recruitment on subsequent trips back to France) determined with prudence and divine guidance to take steps to ensure the permanence of their work. The first step, dictated by Marguerite's solid bourgeois back-ground, was to obtain from the king a civil charter permanently entitling them to their place of residence, the abandoned stone stable given them by the governor to serve as their school and as the teachers' living quarters.22 Next they applied to and eventu-ally obtained from Bishop Laval ecclesiastical approval "to teach anywhere in his diocese." In both of these ventures, they received ample support from the laity, whose openhearted response to Marguerite Bourgeoys and her companions' concern for their family life and educational needs was generous and continuous. Evidence of this trust is seen in the young bride on the morn-ing after her wedding coming to weep on Marguerite's shoulder upon finding what was expected of her in marriage, and also in the The sisters supported themselves by doing laundry, sewing, and mending for families after the day's teaching in school. ~dy-Augwst 1998 Norman * Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom adoption of a nine-month-old native baby who had been aban-doned by her mother and whom Marguerite cared for till she died at the age of six.23 In their practical attention to every aspect of the life of the church in Montreal, the tiny Congregation de Notre Dame, as they came to be called, was ready to meet needs as they presented themselves: premarriage counseling, witnessing of marriages, vocational training, adult education, home eco-nomics, visiting the sick, and preparing the dead for burial. Though they were intent upon living as religious so far as spirit, purpose, and prayer were concerned, it became increas-ingly apparent that their manner of observing common life and serving as disciples would have to be adapted to frontier condi-tions and to "the strengths and talents of each" rather than to preconceived ecclesial rules of enclosure. "If it is the will of God that I go to Montreal," Marguerite had said in response to Maisonneuve's invitation, "I shall want for nothing.''24 Marguerite's wisdom continued to be manifested in her response to divine guidance and providential care in each new enterprise. Her trust in God's will was, however, severely tested on more than one occasion as the years went on. Though provi-sionally approved by Bishop Laval in May 1669, their lifestyle received his official written approval only as "a community in the state of secular women, that is, not bound by enclosure."~s Their Rule, inspired by M. Gendret, which they had been liv-ing, had still to receive formal approval by the church, and for this Bishop Laval, because of the enclosure problem, was unwilling to apply. As Marguerite's biographer wryly ?emarks, the bishop had difficulty distinguishing between the will of God and that of Francois de Montmorency Laval.26 When, upon her return from France with six new recruits, Marguerite was greeted with the news that her community had disintegrated, she replied with calm confidence in God: "He who brings about its fall can very well raise it up again whenever he pleases.''27 When further contro-versy arose over the admission of new members (born in Canada, not France, and two of them aborigines), she felt no longer trusted and offered to resign. The result was an overwhelming reaffir-mation by the entire community of her leadership and special charism.2s Another aspect of Marguerite Bourgeoys's wisdom is reflected in her response to Laval's criticisms of her choice of new candi-dates and her recourse to experienced persons other than himself Review for Religious regarding the community's Rule. Though submitting with humil-ity, she prudently continued to consult the Sulpician directors of the Grande S~minaire, who fully endorsed her wise decision--a visionary missionary thrust far ahead of her time--not to impose a strange civilization on native converts. Her two guideposts, to imitate our Lady and live in the presence of God, fitted admirably into the concept of discipleship she bequeathed to her sisters as that of following la vie voyagOre of the Blessed Virgin. From M. Gendret's explanations long ago, she recalled the distinctions between the three states in which women could follow Christ and serve the church in these words: that of St. Mary Magdalen. observed by the Carmelites and other recluses and that of St. Martha by the cloistered religious who serve their neighbor; but that the outgoing life of the Blessed Virgin was not honored as it should be, and ¯. even without veil and wimple she could be a true reli-giousfl9 The term vie voyagOre (the equivalent of the modern English phrase "to be a pilgrim") seemed to imply, as Marguerite used it, a certain flexibility and adaptability in the service of others and going out into the world wherever there was need. If the first mark of the truly wise person is charity that reflects her close union with God, then it is especially in time of trial that it can best be judged. Such testing was Marguerite's. First came the disastrous fire of 6-7 December 1683, after which the community was reduced to literal destitution. But, when Bishop Laval seized the occasion to urge them to merge with the clois-tered Ursulines, Marguerite firmly defended the identity of her "journeying sisters," modeled on our Lady, Christ's first disci-ple. 3° When an impasse over business matters occurred, she sim-ply turned the whole matter over in prayer to her patroness with the words "Blessed Virgin, I can do no more.''3~ Again, when a visionary in her own community denounced her publicly as in "a state of damnation" and proposed founding a new institute with herself as head, Marguerite, although ready to acknowledge the possibility of having lost God's friendship, persisted in abandoning herself to his divine justice and charity. Her resignation and her replacement as chief superior by the first Montreal-born member, Marie Barbier, reflected both her humil-ity and her openness of spirit.32 At the same time, in trusting Canadian-born candidates and leadership instead of continuing to July-August 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom depend on reinforcements from France, she was wisely investing in the permanence of her community in New France. The final ecclesiastical approval of the Rule was again to be made contingent on accepting enclosure, vowing obedience to the bishop, and requiring dowries. Though remaining obedient to the new bishop, Jean Baptiste de Saint-Vallier, Marguerite firmly and prudendy defended her original vision of the congre-gation's members as "daughters of the parish" and of the Blessed Virgin herself as their only superior.33 For the sake of survival, she had for the moment to submit to the bishop, and on 24 June 1698 the sisters finally accepted the approved Rules and next day solemnly pronounced their vows. But before her death (12 January 1700) she took care to record in her spiritual autobiography her original divinely inspired intuitions, 'with shrewd observations based on her lived experience and her hopes and fears for the continued existence of her congregation. Like the Ursulines and many other women's congregations of the Counter-Reformation peribd, this uncloistered community of Montreal agreed to modifications in their original Rule on condition that its underlying principles and, above all, their "out-going life" were not sacrificed. Their charism was summed up in the words of the foundress herself: When he ascended into heaven, our Lord left on earth a type of congregation of women which included all the states. Mary was its first superior . The Blessed Virgin, who was a teacher, included all the other things in her own per-son in an eminent degree. She was mother and teacher to the newborn church, which she formed and instructed in all kinds of good, by her words and by her example. Instruction and edification were her principal characteris-tics., particularly to teach in a way that was all the more profitable for everyone [and] within the reach of all.34 Models for Today What did these 17th-century women of wisdom have in com-mon, and of what relevance are their lives to ours on the eve of the 21st century? For answers we need to look at the very human and very universal situation underlying their lives. Each might be described (in terms applied to Joan of Arc by Joan Chittister, an eloquent defender of Christian feminism) as "a model of con-science development, a monument to the feminine relationship to Review for Religious God, and a breaker of the stereotypes that block the will of God."35 In every age, authority figures (usually male) have busied themselves with telling people what they should do, usually cloak-ing their goals in moral terms. Suddenly appears someone-- indeed, a woman!--who has a mission, someone who is bold enough to claim that God has revealed plans to her that may seem outrageous, someone who confronts them with a question greater than they are able or willing to handle and who is pre-pared to fight and even die for it if necessary so that truth may prevail and others may benefit. Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys were such women, role models for all who have heard the voice of God calling them to transcend the limitations of the present and enable freedom, justice, and sincerity (verity) to triumph everywhere and for all time. Notes a Mary Ward's Retreat Notes, 1619, unpublished collection. 2 Cited by Catherine Elizabeth Chambers, Life of Mary Ward, 2 vols. (London, 1882 and 1885), vol. 1, p. 227. 3 Letter to Roger Lee SJ, 1 November 1615, cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 346-347. 4 Cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 407-408. 5 Chambers, vol. 1, p. 407 and 217-224. 6 Letter of Bishop Blaise, cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 319-320. 7 Chambers, vol. 2, p. 531. s Chambers, vol. 2, p. 249. 9Winkler MS, p. 20. ~°Cited by Chambers, vol. 1, p. 468. ~a Chambers vol. 2, p. 27. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. 2, p. 387. 2, pp. 289-290. 2, p. 325. 2, p. 325. 2, p. 331. a7 Chambers vol. 2, p. 504. as R.B.Y. Scott, Relevance of the Prophets, rev. ed. (Toronto: Collier Macmillan, 1969), p. 13. 19 Patricia Simpson, Marguerite Bourgeoys and Montreal, 1640-166~ (Montreal: McGil!-Queen'~ University Press, 1997), p. 46. ~3~nly~Aug~tst 1998 Norman * Two 17tb-Century Women of l~tsdom 20 Cited by Simone Pgissant CND, Marguer~e Bourgeoys, trans. Frances Kirwan (Montreal: Les Editions Bellarmin, 1982), p. 34. 2~ Simpson, p. 160. z2 Simpson, pp. 117-118, 164-165. 23 Simpson, pp. 109, 126. 24 Poissant, pp. 23-24. 2s Poissant, p. 35. 26 Simpson, p. 175. 27 Poissant, p. 36 . 28 Poissant, p. 43. 29 Letter of Marguerite Bourgeoys to Louis Tronson, September 1693, "Ecrits de M~re Bourgeoys," p. 20, quoted by Elizabeth Rapley, The Dgvotes (McGill: Queen's Press, 1990), p. 101. 30 Poissant, p. 51. 3~ Poissant, p. 52. 32Poissant, pp. 53-55. 33 Poissant, p. 57. 34 Poissant, pp. 49-50. 3s Joan Chittister, A Passion for Life (New York: Orbis Books, 1996), pp. 127-129. Review for Religious MARY ROGER MADDEN A Path Traced Out: Providence in Mother Theodore Guerin's Life M~ther Theodore Guerin founded the Sisters of rovidence at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, Indiana, on 22 October 1840 and left her mark not only: on an extensive reli-gious congregation, but also--through the schools she established and the philosophy of education she fostered--on tens of thou-sands of lay men and women. Born 2 October 1798 in the village of Etables-sur-Mer, in the diocese of Saint-Brieuc, Anne-Th4r~se Gu4rin was the daugh-ter of Laurent Gu~rin, a naval officer in the service of Napoleon, and Isabelle Lefevre Gu~rin. She had two younger brothers, both of whom died in early childhood, and one younger sister, Marie Jeanne. Her mother taught her to read and write and instructed her in the basics of religion. When she was nine years of age, she attended a small school run by a pious laywoman of Etables. Anne- TMr~se learned quickly and was bored by the basic nature of the instruction. She would often slip away to the seashore, hiding herself among the rocks and cliffs. There, contemplating the vast-ness of the sea, she early learned to pray. A distant relative, a young seminarian forced to postpone his education because of the religious upheaval following the Revolution, came to live with the Gu~rin family. He served as Anne-TMr~se's tutor, calling her his "little theologian." Perhaps because of this advanced religious instruction, she was able to receive her first Holy Communion at the early age of Mary Roger Madden SP writes from Christina Hall; Saint Mary-of-the- Woods, Indiana 47876. 3~:uly-August 1998 Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out ten. At that time she confided to her confessor that she wished to devote her life to God. The kindly priest told her to pray and to be a good, obedient child and wait for God to open the way for her. The even tenor of the Gu~rin family life was disrupted when Laurent Gu~rin, on his way home to rejoin his family after being demobilized, was attacked by brigands, robbed, and killed. Isabelle, who had already suffered the loss of her father and one brother at sea and of her two infant sons by fire, was traumatized by this latest tragedy. She went into a complete physical and mental decline, leaving Anne-Th~r~se, then sixteen years of age, as the main support of the family. Anne-Th~r~se cared for her younger sister and nursed her mother back to health while supporting the little family with her sewing. She never abandoned her desire to devote her life to God. In 1823, when the younger sister had reached an age when she could be expected to take Anne-Th~r~se's place, Isabelle Gu~rin gave reluctant permission for her elder daughter to enter the Sisters of Providence of Ruill~-sur-Loir. This congregation, dedicated to the education of youth and the care of the sick. poor in their homes, had been founded in 1806 by Jacques-FranFois Dujari~, founder also of the Brothers of Saint Joseph, known today as the Brothers of the Holy Cross. A small and relatively obscure congregation, the Sisters of Providence were struggling to establish themselves in a country still reeling from the aftershocks of the Revolution. Anne-Th~r~se, who was given the name Sister Saint- Theodore, soon became a valued member of the family of Providence. Her novitiate had to be prolonged because she con-tracted typhoid fever as a postulant. When she appeared to be on the verge of death, the physician, frantic to save her, adminis-tered such severe remedies as to leave her with impaired health. Never again was she able to digest solid food. Because of her illness, her reception of the habit had been postponed until 5 September 1826; three days later she was per-mitted to take her first vows. She was sent at once to administer one of the most challenging of their missions in the city of Rennes. In 1828 the sisters elected her a member of the first general coun-cil to Mother Mary Lecor, the superior general, During the years at Rennes and later at Soulaines, her exper-tise as an administrator and a teacher was recognized by the Academy of Angers (Universit~ de France), which awarded her Review for Religious an honorary medallion in recognition of her excellence as an educator. In the summer of 1839, the sisters were gathered at the moth-erhouse for their annual retreat when they received a distinguished visitor. Celestine de la Hailandi~re, bishop of Vincennes in Indiana, came requesting sisters to teach the children of the pio-neers in his diocese. The superiors asked for volunteers from among the mem-bership. Although many sisters volunteered, Mother Mary found no one among them with the qualities nec-essary for the leader of such an expedition. She favored Sister Saint-Theodore, who, fearing that her chronic poor health would hinder the work of the mission, had not volunteered. On being told that the supe-riors would accept the mission only if she would lead it, she agreed to go to Indiana. After a turbulent journey of three months by sailing vessel, river boat, canal boat, and stagecoach, the sisters arrived on 22 October 1840 in a dense forest of Indiana. Located five miles from the fron-tier river town of Terre Haute, the little settlement had been named Saint Mary-of- the-Woods by Simon Brut4~ first bishop of Vincennes. Oral tradition has it that he remarked at the time to one of his com-panions, "You will see what great things will be done here." Arriving that dark, damp October evening, Sister Saint- Theodore and her five companions proceeded at once to the small log cabin that was both the dwelling place of the missionary priest and the temporary church. A partially completed building was intended by the bishop as a convent, but no school had yet been started. Waiting for them at the farmhouse belonging to the Joseph Thralls family were four young women who had come to join them. ~.~ The Thralls family turned over to the ten women one of the two rooms which constituted their home, along with half the loft. There they spent the first winter learning English, preparing classes for the opening of the school, and instructing the new members in the principles of the religious life. In November, Mother Theodore, as she was now known, with Sister Saint-Theodore, fearing that her chronic poor health would hinder the work of the mission, had not volunteered. Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out the help of the bishop and some of the money obtained from friends in France, was able to purchase the Thralls farmhouse for a Convent. She found the building planned for them by the bishop "too grand" for a convent and decided instead to open there a boarding school and academy to be called Saint Mary's Female Institute. In July 1841 classes began with five students, three of whom were not Catholic. Indiana's. educational system was in its infancy in the 1840s. Good education, especially for girls, was at a premium. Mother Theodore set about filling this need by establishing free schools side by side. with the popular female academies which were open to Catholic and non-Catholic alike. Despite her wretched health, she visited the schools regu-larly, traveling in the uncomfortable conditions of the day, in order to encourage and support the sisters. Their educational endeavors were conducted in the primitive one- or two-room buildings that often served as both school and convent. In order to compensate for the harshness of their living conditions, she brought them every summer to Saint Mary-of-the-Woods for rest, relaxation, study, and spiritual retreat. In the midst of her exhausting labors, Mother Theodore. suf-fered from constant humiliations and misunderstanding from her superiors both in France and in North America. At Ruill~ the superiors, who were never able to visit the mission in Indiana, had no concept of what the sisters suffered from the intemperate cli-mate, the bigoted populace, and the poor living conditions. Mother Theodore's frequent letters, though strictly factual, were dis-counted as "romances." It would be years before the superiors rec-ognized all that she had suffered. She, on the other hand, never faltered in her love and devotion to the French congregation and its superiors. In the United States, Hailandi~re was provoked by her resis-tance to his interference with the internal government of the con-gregation. He had told Mother Mary that he wanted the sisters in order that they might establish in his diocese the French reli-gious spirit. He praised their constitutions when he read them in France, but, when Mother Theodore attempted to put them into practice, he seemed to have forgotten his former approval. He wished to ,be the one to decide on the acceptance of postulants and the profession of novices; to move the sisters from mission to mission; to open and close missions (without consulting the sis- Review for Religious ters); and, in general, to act as the major superior of the congre-gation. Most disturbing to Mother Theodore was his desire to conduct all visitations of the missions, confining Mother Theodore to Saint Mary-of-the-Woods. His efforts to remove her from office by holding elections, even in her absence, failed; for the sisters simply united in unan-imously reelecting Mother Theodore. The climax came when, frustrated by her gentle but firm resistance, he went so far as to expel her from the diocese, threatening with excommunication any sister who harbored her or attempted to follow her.- This unjust treatment she bore with remarkable patience. In 1847, at the very hour when she was being expelled, an announcement from Rome arrived, accepting Hailandi~re's resigna-tion as bishop of Vincennes and appoint-ing Bishop Jean Bazin as his replacement. Bazin exonerated her and restored her to her congregatiom Mother Theodore's greatest legacy was the example of her love of God and neighbor, a dynamic self-giving that never flagged or slackened, from her girlhood on Brittany's shores to her death in the midst of the Indiana forest. Only a year before that death, she would write to Sister Saint-Athanase, one of the French sisters who had been a companion of hers in the novi-tiate: "How fortunate we are to have given the days of our youth to that God of love who gives us so much affection, and even more when we are old, infirm, and crippled than when we were young and robust." All her other virtues flowed from this ,one deeply held con-viction-- that God's love for her was unconditional. Her humility makes sense in light of her understanding of the mystery of the incarnation, by which the Second Person of the Trinity, for love of us, came to share our lowly estate. Her confidence in the provi-dence of God was nourished by that love. For her part, she saw the cross that marked her life for over fifty years as the mystic sign by which she rejoiced to return some part of that infinite love. In her concern for the p~oor and the ignorant, in her devo-tion to all her sisters, we see the authentic expression of love of neighbor. The love of God which welled up in her spilled over All her other virtues flowed from this one deeply held conviction-- that God's love for her was unconditional. 1998 Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out into the lives of everyone she met. She quickly forgave frailties of human nature that caused her suffering and endeavored to avoid inflicting similar sufferings on others. The last nine years of her life proceeded in relative peace and prosperity. By 1854 the congregation had grown to almost one hundred sisters, who were instructing over one thousand chil-dren in parish schools, academies, and orphanages in Jasper, Vincennes, Madison, Terre Haute, Fort Wayne, Columbus, and Evansville. At the motherhouse she built a four-story brick con-vent to replace the farmhouse in which they had lived since 1840. The heritage of devotion to the education of women contin-ues to be cherished by the Sisters of Providence down to the pres-ent day, when Saint Mary-of-the-Woods College, the oldest Catholic liberal arts college for women in the United States, stands on the site of that first small academy. Physically debilitated by her trials and the hardships of a pio-neer life, Mother Theodore died on 14 May 1856. Reports of her holiness of life spread both during her life and after her death. In December 1908 Francis Silas Chatard, bishop of Indianapolis, instituted proceedings for her canonization. On 11 July 1992 Pope John Paul II, in the name of the church, proclaimed the heroic virtue exhibited by the Servant of God, according her the title Venerable. On 7 July 1997 he formally accepted the first-class miracle needed for the process of beatification to go for-ward. The date of her arrival at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, 22 October, will be celebrated as the feast of Blessed Mother Theodore Guerin, who said of her own life: "This is the path traced out by the providence of God. I follow it." According to Jean-Baptiste Caussade, "The life of each saint is the life of Jesus Christ. It is a new gospel." As we study the gospel God has written in the life of this valiant woman, we are confirmed in our confidence in the mysterious ways of God, which continue to instruct and enlighten us. Bibliography Belsen, Sister Anita Cotter, SP. Soitvenir of the Fiftieth Anniversary or Golden Jubilee of Saint Mary's Academic Institute. New York: Benziger Brothers, 1891. Brown, Sister Mary Borromeo, SP. History of the Sisters of Providence, Vol. I. New York: Benziger Brothers, 1949. Burton, Katherine. Faith Is the Substance. New York: Herder, 1959. Review for Religious Gonner, Sister Laurence, SP. "A History of the First Fifty Years of the Sisters of Providence in America." Master's thesis, Loyola University, Chicago, 1933. Guerin, Mother Theodore. Journals and Letters of Mother Theodore Gudrin. ed. S. Mary Theodosi

Issue 49.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1990. ; R~\'u!w ~:~R Rt~u~aot!s ( ISSN OO34-639X ) is published bi-monlhly ai St. La~uis University by the Mis-souri Provinc¢ Edu~.'ational Inslilulc of the Soci,.Zly of.lcsus: Editorial Office; 36OI Lind¢ll Blvd. Rm. 4214: St. Louis. MO 63 IOg-3393. S¢cond-class postage2 paid at St. U~uis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United Stal¢.~ $15.00 I'or one .,,'ear: $2g.00 for two years. Olher countries: US $20.00 for on~ .vear~ if airmail. US $35.00 per )'car. For subscription orders or chan~¢ of address. write: Rl~\'ll~\V i:tm R~il.l(i~vs; F'.O. Box riO'70; Duluth. MN 55gO6. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:\'l~:w vor R~:l.~{:l~nls; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. I)avid L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.,J. ,Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contrib.ting Editor Advisor\" Board David J. Hassel, S.J. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. Jan.ar\'lFebrttarv 1990 Volume 49 N.mber I Manuscripts, Imoks fiw review and correspondence with the editor sho(dd be sent to w~a R~:u~;~o~s: 361)1 I,indell Blvd.: St. I,ouis. MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the deparlmenl "Canonical Connsel'" should he addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.°I:B.: 1735 I,eRoy Ave.: Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from RF:\'u~w voa RF:L~;~US; 3601 I,indell Blvd.; St. I,ouis, MO 63108-3393. "'O1.11 of prinl" issues are availahle from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.: Ann Arbor. MI 481116, A major portion of each issne is also availahle on cassette recordings as a service for Ihe visually impaired. \\'rile Io the Xavier Sociely hw Ihe Blind; 154 Easl 23rd Street: New York, NY I0010. Review for Religious Volume 49, 1990 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis. Missouri 63108-3393 David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors " REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Septem-ber, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Mi-crofilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright© 1990 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is also regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. As we begin our forty-ninth volume, there are some additional names found on our inside cover editorial masthead. Although our readers may be familiar with the members of our Advisory Board from their writings or from conferences or workshops, I want to take this opportunity to intro-duce each one of them. Father David Hassel, S.J., with his doctorate in philosophy from St. Louis University, has taught university courses in the philosophy of hu-man nature, God, Augustine, and secularization for twenty-seven years. He has written four books on prayer (Paulist Press) and two on Chris-tian philosophy of education and of love (Loyola University Press), along with some nine articles for REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. He currently is a writer-in- residence at Loyola University in Chicago, Illinois. Sister Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D., is presently chancellor of the Jefferson City, Missouri diocese. From 1977 to 1987, she served in Rome as general superior of the School Sisters of Notre Dame, and from 1971 to 1977 as provincial councilor of the St. Louis province. With her doctorate in theology from Marquette University, she has lec-tured on topics of theology and spirituality, and has been involved in giv-ing retreats and spiritual direction. Brother Sean D. Sammon, F.M.S., is provincial of the Poughkeep-sie Province of the Marist Brothers and also serves as president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. He worked for nine years at the House of Affirmation, serving most recently as Clinical Director. With three books and a number of articles published, his most recent contri-bution is Alcoholism's Children: ACoAs in Priesthood and Religious Life (Alba House). With his doctorate in psychology from Fordham Univer-sity, he lectures on topics of adult development among religious and priests, sexuality and intimacy, and addictive behavior. Wendy M. Wright, with her doctorate in theology from the Gradu-ate Theological Union in Berkeley, currently teaches theology at Creighton University. She has taught at University of California at Santa Barbara, Weston School of Theology in Cambridge, and Univeisity of Nebraska at Omaha in the fields of history of Christian spirituality, his-tory of religions, and family spirituality. Among her publications are Sa-cred Dwelling: A Spirituality of Family Life; Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantah Letters of Spiritual Direction (with Joseph F. Power); and 3 4 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 Bond of Perfection: Jane de Chantal and Francis de Sales. She and her husband, Roger Bergman, who is director of New Covenant Justice and Peace Center, have three children and live in Omaha, Nebraska. Sister Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B., holds a master's degree in clini-cal psychology from Loyola University of Chicago and is a licensed psy-chologist in the state of Illinois. She has worked as a school psycholo-gist, university campus minister, and for twelve years as staff member and co-director of the Institute of Spiritual Leadership of Loyola Univer-sity, an international program training men and women for spiritual lead-ership as companions for those on the spiritual journey. She has offered workshops throughout the United States and Canada as well as in Japan, Hong Kong, and Indonesia. As a member of the Benedictine Sisters of St. Scholastica Priory, Chicago, she has served as first councilor and is presently community secretary and formation directress, a position she also held for six years in the 1970s. As editor, I am delighted to welcome these members of our Advi-sory Board. With their broad experience, learning, and publishing skills, they give promise of providing Rzvmw FOR Rzt.~c~ot~s with future direc-tion and creative imagination as we look toward the Church of the third millennium. David L. Fleming, S.J. Challenges Facing Active Religious Today Sally A. Kenel, D.W. Sister Sally Kenel, D.W., can be addressed at St. John's University; 300 Howard Avenue; Staten Island, New York 10301. Iduring the summer of 1988 I participated in the General Chapter of the congregation to which I belong, the Daughters of Wisdom. Since we are an international group with our generalate in Rome, the meeting was held at a large house specially equipped for chapters in the lake district out-side of Rome. There were many adjustments to make: some as basic as climate, language, and food. However, it was only after we had been meeting for about a week that I realized that even more significant than these was the overall adjustment in lifestyle. We followed a strict schedule which centered around our Eucharis-tic celebration and our Marian prayer in common. The casa at which we met was quite far from the nearest town. Moreover, the doors of the house as well as the gates of the property were locked at 9:30 P.M. and reopened at 8:00 A.M. On the several occasions I absented myself from the common meals, questions about the state of my health indicated that I had been "missed." In my initial processing of this experience, I com-pared being at the general chapter to being in the novitiate. However, as our discussions at the chapter centered on the mission of the congregation and the lifestyle of a religious today, I realized that even as we talked about community life in an active religious congrega-tion, we were living a monastic lifestyle. This insight served as the cata-lyst for this article in that it stimulated my reflections on the active as opposed to monastic lifestyle, and the challenges facing post-Vatican II active religious. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 The Active Religious Life Almost twenty five years ago, the Second Vatican Council in its "De-cree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," stated that such a renewal involved two simultaneous processes: "(1) a continuous return to the sources of all Christian life and to the original inspiration behind a given community and (2) an adjustment of the community to the changed conditions of the times."~ In the years which followed, our con-gregation, like so many others, took these words of Vatican II to heart and with much prayer, soul searching, discussion, and, at times, painful confrontation, engaged in the renewal of our congregation. The result of our efforts was the declaration that for us mission is primary. In other words, on the continuum which runs from contemplative to active relig-ious lifel we clearly situated ourselves near the latter. In so placing ourselves, we joined with other congregations in liv-ing religious life in a way that George Aschenbrenner has distinguished from contemplative life in six main ways. (!) Ministry is the primary de-termining influence for the community. This being the case, then (2) a certain flexibility is necessary in order to be able to deal with the de-mands' of ministerial activities. However, such a life may become scat-tered; therefore, (3) discernment is needed if religious are to find, be with, and serve God through their works. Since the purpose of the con-gregation is to be sent in mission, (4) mobility and availability are key elements of an active spirituality, and correspondingly (5) an apostolic form of prayer should characterize active religious. Finally, (6) the com-munity must be marked by a unity which goes beyond physical presence to a unity of mind and heart.2 Although active congregations have done much to make these char-acteristics vital dimensions of their lives, certain of these areas continue to challenge. Frequently the challenge they offer is a subtle one. While religious are engaged in evaluating their ministries and strategizing to in-culturate the gospel message and values, other aspects of active religious life may be neglected. It is these areas which continue to challenge re-ligious, and at times provide the fodder for those who endorse a return to a more traditional lifestyle. Assuming that participation in the mission of the Church is primary for active religious, and that our efforts at renewal in this area are con-stant, a whole variety of questions arise. For example, when we focus our efforts on mission what happens to community? Does it remain one of the marks of religious life, or do we abandon it and become secular institutes? As our communities become smaller and our works less insti- Challenges Facing Religious Life / 7 tutionalized what happens to "local superiors"? If they are no longer needed as administrators, who fills the mentoring roles which they tra-ditionally held? What is an apostolic prayer life? Can unity of heart and mind extend beyond the borders of a particular country or culture to form an international bond? The fact that these questions are spin-offs from the primary question of ministry in no way diminishes our responsibility to respond. As ac-tive religious we need to grapple with these issues to see where the Spirit is leading us today. It is to reflection on these questions that we now turn. The Challenge of Community Living The Vatican document, "Essential Elements in the Church's Teach-ing. on Religious Life," states that: The style of community life itself will relate to the form of apostolate for which the members have responsibility and to the culture and soci-ety in which this responsibility is accepted. The form of apostolate may well decide the size and location of a community, its particular needs, its standards of living.3 This statement clearly indicates that a community lifestyle is the norm for religious, and recognizes that local communities can and must take a form appropriate to the needs of the apostolate. As simple as this may seem, any one who tries to live in community with people who engage in a variety of ministries knows that the reality is quite complex. People come to community with a variety of expectations. Some use the family as the model for community life. Although the sharing of re-sources that community life demands may well be similar to that of a fam-ily, there are also differences. Some people expect to find in community the security of a parent-child relationship where they may relax in de-pendence or dominance depending on their personalities. Others ap-proach community as a sorority or fraternity and expect that community will provide them with a group of congenial companions with whom they may spend their free time. Others look on community as a shelter, a place to come home to after a hard day's work. Sitting quietly in front of the TV is their idea of a pleasant evening together. For still others, a "bed and breakfast" model of community is the ideal. Ministerial ob-ligations, dinners with friends, shopping, visits to a health club, and so forth, indiscriminately keep a person busy every evening. By so limit-ing the time spent with the group, a person is able to avoid the give-and-take which life in community ordinarily demands. At least in part, all these expectations show a response to the com~ Review for Religious, January-February 1990 mon life that was the norm for religious communities prior to Vatican II. At that point in time, a good community was one whose main attrib-utes were regularity, order, and discipline. Vestiges of this ideal remain and constitute the basis for the expectations of some religious today. On the other hand, there are religious whose expectations of community have their roots in reactions against a common life. The result is a ten-sion which is expressed by clusters of people around the pole of group orientation in opposition to clusters of people around the pole of indi-vidual orientation. Attempts to address such tension on the practical level has led to such practices as interviewing prospective members of a local community in order to examine mutual compatibility. Although such testing may lead to a more peaceful life together, it fails to address the basic issue of the value of community itself. Why do active religious live in community? One way to respond to this question is rooted in Johannes Metz's understanding of religious congregations as "the institutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the Church."4 The community life of an active religious congregation, then, recalls the enthusiastic union of the early Christians described in the Acts of the Apostles: "The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common" (Ac 3:32). These early Christians had grasped the notion that God is community, the Trinity, and gave witness to this belief through their life together. Thus, the community life of active re-ligious today serves as a protest against the excessive individualism in today's society and bears witness to the fact that to be is to be in rela-tionship. Reflection on the value of community does not immediately solve all the problems connected with the living of community today. However, it does provide the context in which religious can explore the particulars of community life. By locating the value of community in witness, the notion of community for the mission of the Church is reaffirmed. Thus, the challenge for active religious is to find ways of being together in com-munity which facilitate the ministries of each member, and at the same time proclaim the interdependence of all people. The Challenge o1' Mentoring Several years ago when I was a member of our community's forma-tion team we spent a great deal of time reflecting on where to send our ne~,ly professed sisters. Although ministerial opportunity was our pri-mary consideration, we quickly became involved in the question of vi-able community situations. Where were there sisters who would be open Challenges Facing Religious Life to sharing their lives with the temporary professed whose experiences were so different? Where were there sisters who could and would serve as mentors for these women? In general, we found a reluctance on the part of older sisters to become involved in a mentoring relationship. In pre-Vatican II days this problem did not exist. The local superior was responsible for all the sisters in her house, and she was expected to pay particular attention to the integration of the temporary professed into the community. Thus, the formation begun in the postulate, novitiate, and juniorate was continued by the superior in the house to which a sis-ter was assigned. In addition, regular personal meetings with the supe-rior often served as spiritual direction. Today active communities are smaller and less structured. Often, the group is not uniformly involved in a particular ministry. Joined to the emphasis on the personal respon-sibi! ity of each member, these factors have contributed to the demise of the role of local superior. In their place we find the "communicator" or "contact person," that is, someone within the group who accepts re-sponsibility for communication with the provincial leadership, and so forth. However successful such communication may be, this redefinition of task may leave the mentoring role which the superior formerly filled empty. Such a lack not only deprives new members of receiving the tra-ditions of the community, but also raises the question of whether the adult crisis which Erikson describes as Generativity vs. Stagnation is be-ing successfully negotiated. Although some may claim that their minis-try outside the congregation commits them to involvement in establish-ing and guiding the next generation of Christians, the responsibility of passing on the charism of their particular group cannot be ignored. However, some will argue that the religious life of today bears little resemblance to the life to which they committed themselves. They con-tend that they cannot be expected to pass on the tradition because they themselves do not know what has happened to it. Take daily Eucharist, for example. They consider it a must, and yet newer members of the com-munity do not share the depth of their commitment in this area. How can they be expected to pass on the tradition to those whose values are judged not only different but inferior? What these people fail to realize is that generativity demands the pass-ing on of the tradition, in this case the charism, and not one particular time bound expression of it. Their nostalgic reminiscences of the "good old days" when community members did everything together are but signs of their own stagnation. The challenge for active religious is to re- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 alize that the process of renewal set in motion by Vatican II is an ongo-ing one. It demands the frequent return to the charism, and the contin-ual search for appropriate expressions of the charism. The refusal of men-toring roles in a congregation may indicate that it is time to examine the charism again with the hope of identifying its core values so that these values in turn may be passed on. It may also be time to view the charism as a gift to the whole Church, not merely to a particular congregation. This opens ihe way to redefining membership to include associate mem-bership and other forms of affiliation with a congregation. These new forms of membership in turn raise anew the challenge of mentorship. The Challenge of an Apostolic Prayer Life The need for prayer in the life of a religious is often likened to a car's need for gasoline. Unless one gets the tank filled periodically, the car will not continue to run. One immediately makes the connection with the need for religious to take time to become filled with God. Today's re-ligious seem very much aware of the need for periodic retreats and pro-longed periods of prayer. However, another automobile analogy can be made. It is not only gasoline in the engine that keeps a car running. While the car is going the battery must be constantly recharged by the ¯ alternator or else the car cannot continue to run. Thus, besides setting aside more extended periods for prayer, an apostolic prayer life calls for continual prayer in the midst of activity. But, how does one "pray always?" (Lk 18: I). The temptation is to claim that one's work is prayer. However, in such a simple equation, both work and prayer lose something. A brief reflection on Eucharist may help to bring the relationship between prayer and work into sharper focus for the active religious. Eucharist involves three basic movements: thanksgiving, memorial, and invocation. At Eucharist we give thanks to God in Jesus' name for all the good things--be they as general as creation, and redemption, or as particular as specific moments of grace. We remember the death and resurrection of Jesus, the "dangerous memory" par excellence, a mem-ory which promises freedom for all. We implore the Holy Spirit to make our gifts holy and to transform ourselves as well. Notice, however, that this is not the prayer of an individual, but rather we thank; we remem-ber; we invoke. The Eucharist teaches us that prayer is not merely a dia-logue between a person and God, but rather that Christian prayer is com-munal. Moreover, Eucharist does not end when one leaves the church. As the poe~n by R. Voight makes clear, in our work we do Eucharist. Con- Challenges Facing Religious Life sider, one verse: He was old, tired, and sweaty, pushing his homemade cart down the alley, stopping now and then to poke around in somebody's garbage. I wanted to tell him about Eucharist But the look in his eyes the despair on his face, the hopelessness of somebody else's life in his cart, Told me to forget it. So I smiled, said "Hi"--and gave him Eucharist.5 This brief reflection on Eucharist points to the dynamic relation be-tween prayer and work in the life of the active religious. Prayer as en-gagement in contemplation is not an individual activity, but rather, no matter how personal, is also communal. Our communion with Christ is a communion with the Body of Christ as well. This sense of communion finds expression in prayer not only as the context out of which one prays but also in the form of prayers of petition, and through such expression communion is enhanced. In turn, this sense of unity with others demands expression in our ministry. Our union with Christ urges us to a life of service. Thus, an apostolic prayer life does not exist alone, but only in conjunction with a prayerful apostolate. The challenge of an apostolic prayer life is to develop a prayerful approach to ministry so that prayer and work are viewed as different forms which our efforts towards true communion take. The Challenge of Internationality We live in a time when distances between places have been reduced drastically by improved means of communication and transportation. We live in a time when the condition of the very planet on which we live challenges us to recognize our interdepeiadence. Simultaneously, how-ever, today's religious are encouraged to adapt their style of life to the demands of their specific apostolates and to the culture in which they live. In trying to make such adaptations, religious tend to emphasize the needs and demands of the local church and the local community. Al-though such a focus is important, at times it can be isolating, and can raise the question of what it means to belong to a larger group, be it prov-ince or international congregation. In other words, if we have more in common with other religiou~ living and working in similar situations than we have with other members of our own congregation, why belong to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 an international congregation? Responses to questions such as these hang on the value which one places on the charism of a congregation. Is the charism an adequate ground on which bonds strong enough to extend across continents yet flex-ible enough to allow for cultural diversity can be built? Or to put it an-other way, does sharing the past, being a community of memory, so ori-ent us that we engage in the here and now not only with enthusiasm, but with the realization that our here and now is but a part of the total pres-ent reality? Moreover, does being a community of memory so orient us towards the future that we face it with hope not only for ourselves, but for all people, for the world? The potential of the charism of a congregation to enable bonding needs to be developed and made concrete. In recent years such develop-ment of the charism in active congregations often has taken the form of a mission statement. However, the mission statement itself can remain purely theoretical unless we begin to share the stories of how this state-ment is enfleshed in the specific ministries of religious in different cul-tures. Without such interpersonal and self-disclosing communication, true bonding within the congregation will not occur~ and the potential for challenge and affirmation on an international level will remain unde-veloped. International bonding built on the principles of interpersonal and self-disclosing communication stands in stark contrast to a hierarchical model of bonding. In the former, the general administration is charged with fa-cilitating such communication as opposed to serving as the bond of unity in the congregation. Each member shares the responsibility of preserv-ing and strengthening the bonds of congregational unity. Furthermore, each member shares the responsibility for creating new bonds through her sharing of the concrete form the charism takes in her life and minis-try. In other words, the local community and the local church need not become less important to the individual religious, but each one must come to the recognition that there are other local communities and other local churches where needs and attempts to meet these needs are quite different from one's own. Moreover, the full meaning of one's local church and local community can be found only in relationship to the uni-versal Church and the congregation. A religious congregation as a visible, identifiable group of people within the Church serves as a model of the Church. A non-hierarchical understanding of the internationality of a congregation can function as a symbol of grace for the larger community. As such it refuses to allow Challenges Facing Religious Life the universal Church to be understood as the Vatican, but recalls the Pauline understanding of universal Church as the communion of local churches. At the same time, the internationality of a congregation refuses to allow a local church to consider itself an autonomous subdivision of the universal Church. The internationality of a religious congregation calls the Church to recognize that it is at once local and universal. However, a religious congregation can function as a symbol of grace for the Church in this way only if it itself is truly international. In other words, the challenge of internationality for a religious congregation is much the same as it is for the Church--to realize that it is at once local and universal. On the practical level, this becomes the challenge of es-tablishing, maintaining, and enhancing personal, self-disclosing commu-nications. Conclusions If the chosen priority of a religious congregation is the mission of the Church, then this priority will have ramifications on all of life. The challenges facing active religious today flow from this primary commit-ment to ministry. Moreover, the challenges which we examined in this article all seem to have a common thread--that of recognizing oneself as living in relationship. Whether one examines the quality of local com-munity life, the continuation of a congregation and its values through men-toring, apostolic prayer, or internationality, the central challenge is to a life of interdependence. In other words, the ideal of the "rugged indi-vidual" has no place in active religious life. Since many of us have cul-tivated this ideal in order to survive the past two decades in religious life, the challenge to live interdependently is one that strikes at the heart of our hard won "freedom." On the other hand, interdependent living and dependent living are not synonymous. Interdependency demands that we take responsibility for our own lives and at the same time realize that we are part of an intricate web of relationships. Insofar as religious are able to meet the challenges of interdepend-ent living, they in turn will become challenges to others--to the Church, to the nationalistic spirit of governments, to a consumerism which has no regard for non-human life, or the environment. In this way, active religious will serve as symbols of grace, reflecting to all the community of God. NOTES "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," in The Documents of Vati- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 can H, ed. Walter M, Abbott, S.J., p. 468, no. 2. 2 See "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Wol. 45 (1986): pp. 653-668. 3 Origins 13 (1983) p. 136, no. 21. 4 Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 12. 5 As quoted in Morton T. Kelsey, The Other Side of Silence (Paulist Press, 1976), pp. 276-278. The Challenge God, can you wrap your arms around me, hold me tight and tell me that you love me? Jesus, as my lover, can you really do that? Spirit, can you fulfill the need I feel . . . to be touched, squeezed, loved? Make love to me, God, can you do that? Whisper in my ear, Jesus, can you? Tell me You want me as well, Spirit, is that possible? Am I not to be human anymore? Am I not to feel desire? Am I not to remember or imagine? I imagine his pain as the nail broke through his flesh. I remember the words he screamed at his death. My heart is full of desire for him. I am human--so was he. He came to gather us for his Father. He wants me. He whispers to me everyday and makes love to me with every breath I take. He touches me, squeezes me, loves me. Yes, Lord. My God. I believe. I feel your arms engulf me-- Hold me tighter, Lord. I love you, too. Elaine Laws A.S.C. Affiliate Lay Volunteer Liberia, W. Africa Enlarging Perspectives for the Future of Religious Life Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father Shaun McCarty, S.T., teaches in the Washington Theological Union and is a staff member of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. His address is Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. ~l~s we approach the last decade of this century, religious find themselves deeply concerned with and uncertain about the future. The crisis facing religious (mainly in the United States and in western Europe) is marked by a decrease in vocations, an increase in median age, and a growing com-plexity of ministerial needs. Many are experiencing either sadness, fear, anger, helplessness, hopelessness, or some combination of the above! The causality (which I would not pursue at length here) is complex. In addition to a history of change that has marked the evolution of reli-gious life, there are theological reasons for the present crisis such as Vati-can II's accent on the universal call to holiness; pastoral ones such as ex-panding possibilities for dedicated service for laity; and cultural ones such as delayed maturation leading to difficulties for young people in mak-ing lasting commitments. People have different ways of dealing with crisis. One can choose (a) to deny or ignore it with a cockeyed optimism; (b) to blame it on the wrong causes or people; (c) to hanker after "the good old days" (that are yet to come!); (d) to become immobilized and depressed by a fatalis-tic cynicism; (e) to engage in narcissistic introspection and breast-beating; (f) myopically to limit one's perspective or to focus on the wrong issues. None of these alternatives is constructive. My contention is that religious life is in transition and that we need 15 Review for Religious, January-February 1990 a strategy for living in a transitional period. As a first step in developing such a strategy, I would suggest enlarging one's perspectives so as to face the future with hope. By "perspective" I mean the scope or hori-zon of a person's or a group's vision whereby one is enabled to perceive context, allowing for a sense of proportion and within which one can fo-cus attention and energy. Context enables one to see something in its re-lationship rather than in isolation. This, in turn, allows it to be seen in proportion to its real significance. Within proper context, one can then choose to focus on the right issues. It is also my contention that, though painful, crisis bears potential for growth. "Crisis" literally means being presented with a situation de-manding decision. The word for discernment in Greek is diakrisis, that is, "a sorting out." It is that "sorting out" that I would like to address. As all Christians, religious have a responsibility to discern the signs of the times in the process of making decisions for the future in a spirit of hope for the coming of the kingdom. So the question is: What help is available in reading the signs of the times that are pertinent to what has always been a changing shape of religious life? My task is to try to provide some perspectives that might enable a hopeful reflection on what we can expect and prudent decisions about what we can do to help shape the future. I will attempt neither to predict nor will I presume to play the prophet. Rather, I will explore some mean-ings and pose some questions that might hopefully expand and deepen perspectives in sharing responsibility for the future. Some Meaning to Broaden Perspectives I would suggest five key areas where broader and deeper perspec-tives might be profitably pursued. They include: (I) the primacy of the kingdom (or reign) of God; (2) a mature grasp of and love for the Church as "Catholic"; (3) membership in interdependent religious community; (4) different approaches to and notions of the future; (5) the cultivation of a mature sense of Christian hope and trust. The Primacy of the Kingdom (or Reign) of God Kingdom (or reign~ of God is a symbol used to convey the mystery of the corporate vision or dream for the future that energizes Christians for involvement in the present. It is the large perspective that embraces all the others. It summarizes the mission of Christ now shared by all. God's reign is already breaking through and manifest by those liv-ing the beatitudes which results in fruits of the Spirit such as peace, jus-tice, mercy, forgiveness, reconciliation, unity, and love. Obviously these Enlarging Perspectives values of the kingdom are not the exclusive property of any group within the Church or even of the Church itself. A Mature Grasp of and Love for the Church as "Catholic" The Church, though not co-terminus with the kingdom, is a commu-nity of disciples called together in Christ to be a visible body united in belief, discipline and worship in service of the kingdom. It is important to remember that the beginnings of the Church (which we continue to remember) were marked by "upper room experiences" where Jesus washed feet as a prelude to Eucharist and where the Holy Spirit descended upon disciples who had gathered in fear and confusion to be empowered for the mission of proclaiming the Good News of the kingdom. "Catholic" is a designation that indicates the universality of the Church's scope; its quest for unity, yet respect for differences; its inclu-siveness of peoples and cultures; and its ability to recognize and to re-spect kingdom values wherever they are found. The term "Catholic" is opposed to insular, parochial, provincial, or sectarian attitudes. A mature love for the Church means accepting her in both her graced and flawed condition; being faithful to her in attempting to personalize the institution as others experience Church in our ministry to them; and working prophetically from within the perennial tasks of renewal (begin-ning with ourselves!). Membership in Interdependent Religious Community Religious life is an ecclesial way of living a vowed Christian life in community for the sake of the kingdom. It is both charism and institu-tion. As charism, it is a gift of the Spirit to the Church through the in-spiration of a founder. As institution, it is structured according to a rule of life or constitution approved by the Church. Though both charism and institution are important elements to be kept in poised tension, I would suggest that sharing in the charism is morevital to membership than par-ticipation in its institutional structures. It is even a deeper bond than af-fective ties with other members. By membership I mean how, where, and when one experiences a sense of bel6nging to or connectedness within a group. I would also suggest that today, more than ever before, members and communities are called to greater interdependence both within the com-munity and with other groups. By "interdependence," I mean mutual dependency in co-responsible fashion as opposed to an unhealthy inde-pendence or dependence. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 Different Approaches to and Attitudes towards the Future "Future" refers to that aspect of human history not yet fully here except in seed and about which little can be known with certainty, but for which there is responsibility for human choices in the present. There are different attitudes about the future. Some hold that history continues to repeat itself and that managing the future means knowing the past. Others think changes are going to be so radically different in the future that it is senseless to look at the past. There are others still who feel that, as the present has emerged in continuity with the past, so the future will be both creative and new, but will emerge in continuity with the past and present. I believe the latter is more in keeping with the notion of Divine Provi-dence. As a matter of fact, the Latin root of "providence" is "pro vid-ere" which means literally "to see with" or "to see for"--implying the use of dynamic memory in looking at the past, creative imagination in looking at the future, and collaborative action in the pres.ent. Thus Di-vine Providence may be viewed, as God calling creatures to be co-responsible for and to collaborate with the Spirit in shaping the future. There are different kinds of futures including: (a) possible, that is, what could happen limited only by the scope of imagination; (b) prob-able, that is, given current trends, what is likely to happen; (c) prefer-able, that is, what should happen determined by a value system; and (d) plausible, that is, what can happen by attending carefully to the other kinds of futures. I would suggest that, in helping to shape the future, we need to explore the possible, assess the probable, assert the preferable, and attempt the plausible. The Cultivation of a Mature Sense of Hope and Trust By hope I mean trustful expectation for the future, born of faith in promises of the more to come. Just as with faith, I believe there is a first and second naivete of hope. In faith development, what begins initially as an unquestioning and naive faith, after a period of doubt and questioning, can grow into a more critical and mature faith marked by a second naivete. A similar develop-ment can happen in regard to a naix, e hope. An Eden-like expectation of absolute assurance can be shattered by an act of betrayal (real or sup-posed, conscious or unconscious). If the person thus "betrayed" can for-give and effect reconciliation with the event of betrayal, then that per-son can grow to a more mature trust (second naivete) which includes the possibility and risk of further betrayal. I would submit that people can experience corporate as well as individual betrayals, that is, betrayal by Enlarging Perspectives a renewed Church or changed religious community. Some Questions to Enlarge Perspectives (1) Perspectives of kingdom and Church Are we "catholic" enough in our notion of Church? How much do we perceive Church in the first person plural? Do we view both institu-tional and charismatic elements in the Church as interdependent, minis-tering in mutual dependency rather than as competitors or adversaries? As different (and often differing!) individuals and groups in the Church, can we transcend personal and intramural agenda by focusing on king-dom priorities? Does our grasp of Church embrace a missionary dimen-sion as necessary to its fullness? In carrying forth the mission, do we see evangelization as a two-way street, a dialogue in which we need to lis-ten to learn as well as to proclaim to teach kingdom values? Do we value quality of personal evangelization (especially our own !) over quantity of religious practices? In evangelizing, are we able to distinguish Gospel from cultural values? Are we developing a mature love for that Church? Does such love imply placing a priority on our personal relationship with Jesus and com-mitment to the Gospel proclaiming his kingdom as realities that relativ-ize Church membership? In realizing that discipleship is prior to apostleship? In seeing code, creed, and cult as important, but secondary to our experience of God in Christ? Does a mature love for the Church call for recognizing and embracing the flawed as well as the the graced condition not only of ourselves and other individuals, but of the Church itself? Does it mean reverencing the person and opinions of others who disagree with us? Being able to forgive those who wound us? Does ma-ture love prefer invitation to control by refusing to resort to power poli-tics to win the day, even for a worthy cause? Does it include making pref-erential, yet not exclusive options for the poor? Does it call for building bridges between those who have and those who have not? Do we foster mature love of Church by exercising a truly servant leadership that is ready to wash feet? To share Eucharist in life as well as sacrament? To discern the Spirit of God in experiences of life? To recognize, affirm, and enable the use of different gifts for ministry in the Church? Does ma-ture love lead us to avoid elitism and to shun seeking privilege? Are we comfortable enough in our Catholic identity so as to engage in genuine dialogue (in which we listen as well as speak) with other Christians and non-Christians energized by a passion for unity in love as well as truth? Do we acknowledge goodness wherever or in whomever we find it, in-side or outside the Church? Do we acknowledge kingdom values wher- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 ever we find them? (2) Perspectives of religious life: So as to establish a proper context, rather than asking in isolation "What is happening to religious life?", should we be asking, "What is happening in the Church?" And what is happening in the global Church--in Africa, Latin America, Asia, and elsewhere? Not just in the local Church in a given diocese, nation, or culture. Within respective religious communities, do we need to shift focus and to widen horizons? To shift the focus of membership in community from local living to the larger religious community sharing a charism within a context of Church and kingdom? As religious, is there any higher obedience we owe the Church than fidelity to the charism of our community? And, in fact, is that charism the exclusive possession of any given canonical group? Can that same charism be shared by men as well as women? By laity as well as by religious? by non-Catholics as well as by Catholics? If the charism is susceptible of wider appropriation, then is there a responsibility for religious to share and foster it with others out-side their own canonical groups? Could it be that the charism will out-live present structures that embody it? What can we do to discover or to create the conditions for"upper room experiences" so that community gatherings might become energiz-ing and enabling rather than enervating and obstructive? What would they look like in terms of participation? Prayerful mode? Respect for dif-ferent gifts for ministry? Though responsibly planned, with a readiness for kairos moments in which we can be surprised by the Spirit? Agenda with priority on the needs of those we serve over internal concern? Lis-tening with open hearts? How are we dealing with the fear and confu-sion of crisis? How and in what areas can we work in mutual dependence with oth-ers who share our concerns? Where is there redundancy, competition, or unhealthy independence or dependence? Between religious communities? Between men and women? Between religious and laity? Between parish priests and religious or lay associates? Between Catholic and non- Catholic sponsored programs? What kind of support do we need from and can we give to one another? (3) Perspectives of the future and hope for it: Can we resist being victimized by "prophets of doom" proclaim-ing the probable? Are we ready to share responsibility for shaping the future by reading the signs of the times and by making discerned choices for the preferable and plausible futures? Have we grown in a mature Enlarging Perspectives sense of hope and trust? Have we survived real or supposed "betrayal" within communities and/or the Church? How have we reacted or re-sponded? With bitterness? Anger? Resentment? Cynicism? or with for-giveness and reconciliation? With the readiness to enter a more real world? With greater awareness and acceptance of human limitation? With a more mature love of Church? With the willingness to risk in trust-ing again? With the firm belief that, though Jesus has ceased to be vis-ible, he has never ceased to be present? Conclusion Perhaps a fitting paradigm for this time of transition would be the Exodus event? Many, lured by promises, never reached the Promised Land themselyes, but lived and worked that others might? As Sam Goldwyn used to remark at meetings. "For your informa-tion, I have come to ask a few questions!" Perhaps this is a time for hav-ing more disturbing questions than comforting answers. It was Rilke who said the important thing was to love the questions and perhaps someday we would live ourselves into the answers! There might be the germ in that for a strategy of survival for religious during an era of transition: to love and live the questions to~e'ther in hope! Towards A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life John J. Markey, O.P. Father John Markey, O.P., is a member of the Southern Dominican Province. His address is De Porres House; 495 Merritt Avenue; Oakland, California 94610. The authors of the landmark book, Habits of the Heart, present a clear challenge to traditional religious communities which claim to want to "transform" the dominant cultural ethos. ~ It is ultimately up to the vari-ous churches to provide a morally coherent alternative to the radically myopic individualism that has come to so characterize and inform Ameri-can culture. But religion itself has often been both systematically co-opted by this culture, and has reinforced it by providing a rationale for its most insipid implications. It is, therefore, increasingly evident that the churches must begin any wider prophetic role by questioning and re-imagining their own communal life, and the place of the valid insights of individualism within this context. Within the Roman Catholic tradi-tion it is clear that those in religious life have a particularly urgent man-date and rich resources in this regard. There is a growing awareness that any genuine Christian community must be both inculturated and prophetic. This means that the community must define itself within a certain cultural context; it must take seriously and even incarnate the valid insights and thought-forms of the culture. But the community will also necessarily have a countercuitural dimen-sion to it. It will be characterized by a lifestyle that explicitly contradicts some cultural themes and attitudes that are seen to be irreconcilable with gos-pel values. A thorough analysis of American culture would reveal many myths 22 A Trinitarian Model. of Religious Life / 23 and values that need to be challenged and transvalued by the gospel, but no single aspect of American life is as pervasive and dominant as radi-cal individualism. It is fair to say that Western liberal thought revolves around this theme, and that it informs every strain of American cultural life. The deifica~tion of this cultural value has had a destructive impact on American life by creating an ethos where commitment is often unin-telligible, fragmentation and disintegration of family life is unavoidable, and personal isolation is the norm. This is not to say that individualism in itself is the problem. On the contrary, there are many positive and valuable insights attached to this thought-form. Some of the fundamental values derived from individual-ism that religious communities should incarnate are: the emphasis on the value and dignity of each person and the role of the community in en-hancing this dignity; the primacy of the personal, relational, and experi-ential dimension of the community life over against the institutional and structural dimension; and the absolute need for personal manifestation and self-appropriation of community identity, decisions, and goals. Any North American religious community must take the valuable insights of individualism seriously if it truly wants to be both inculturated and pro-phetic. But the community must, at the same time, develop a lifestyle that puts this phenomenon in the fuller perspective of the gospel. Proposal for an lnculturated North American Model of Religious Life Given both the major cultural themes and the major cultural needs and problems, I propose that community should be the rubric around which we redefine our understanding and praxis of religious life at this time. I think that it is this element of religious life which, if properly un-derstood, best encompasses and incorporates the relational, personal, and experiential values that we learn from our culture. It is also community which most clearly responds to the desperate need in our time for a sig-nificant countercultural alternative to radical individualism. It is clear, however, that we must come to a new and meaningful understanding of community, particularly in a Christian and Catholic context, if we are going to develop the coherent alternative we seek. We must rethink tra-ditional understandings of community and communal life in terms that can both express the new insights of the culture while at the same time remaining faithful to the spirit of both the gospel and the broader tradi-tion in regard to community. Along these lines, then, I propose that we consider the Trinity to be the model of authentic Christian community, and therefore the context Review for Religious, January-February 1990 in which we redefine community and community life. I hope to make it clear that a trinitarian model and trinitarian terminology are ultimately more helpful for the task previously laid out than the Christological model on which much of religious life is currently based. Furthermore, I propose that we adopt a modern (though traditionally informed) social understanding of the Trinity that explains the Trinity in experiential terms. Here I am essentially assuming that there are two traditional theo-logical interpretations of the Trinity, that while related are finally dis-tinct. 2 I will try to explain the two lines of development below and then show some of the implications of taking one as our model of commu-nity. It is important to see that the fundamental advantage of this option is that it provides a model of community based on the very life of God as we understand it. In this sense the religious community is defined as an icon of the Trinity, which means that its self-understanding must ul-timately be shaped by its most deeply held theological assertions. Two Approaches to Understanding the Trinity I) Substantial Identity In the West after Augustine, the primary approach to Trinity was to begin with the divine "substantia," the single and simple essence or sub-stance of the Godhead, and then try to explain (generally using a very schematic psychological model) how this single substance could be triper-sonal. So the main focus of this line of development was the attempt to show how the three persons could relate to one common divine sub-stance, which necessarily precluded any multiplicity, while at the same time maintaining a real distinction of persons. This approach was suc-cessful in describing the unity of the Godhead, but ultimately found it difficult to give an adequate account of the relation of persons within this unity. For this reason articulations of this approach often ended in either modalism or quaternity. H)Vital Identity and Mutual Inexistence In the East, following the lead of the Cappadocian Fathers, there was a tendency to begin with the reality of the three persons and then to ar-gue to the unity of the Godhead. In essence, the task of this approach was to show how three persons could be one (rather than how one could be three). Along these lines there were two critical developments. First, Victorinus proposed that the unity of God be described as a "vital iden-tity" of life and action rather than as a "substantia."3 God then was not to be understood as some static essence, but as vitally and dynamically A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 95 alive. The three persons, therefore, do not share a common substance so much as a common identity of life. Secondly, John of Damascus proposed the concept of mutual inex-istence (perichoresis) as the best way to describe the unity of the three persons.4 This meant that the three indwell in one another and compene-trate with one another, as the flame of three wicks can burn as one. This mutual indwelling or inexistence of the divine persons is not a conse-quence of their unity, but the equivalent of it. It is in fact the mutual and complete compenetration of the three divine persons that comprises their essential unity. So here the divine persons literally exist in one another in a vibrant and ecstatic way. The three persons, as incorporeal and fully self-donating, experience an interpenetration and intense empathy that is ultimately a single identity of life. It is then the self-donation of the three persons that makes their unity possible. This mutual self-donation, however, does not compromise the autonomy of each divine person, but is only possible because of it. With-out autonomy no action would be possible, let alone self-donation. This perfect self-donation makes relationships unitive rather than divisive. This means that mutual self-donating relationships constitute the very re-ality of God. By beginning with the persons we come to a radically social under-standing of the Godhead that can in turn lead to a social understanding of created reality as well. God is the supreme communion of three di-vine persons, which humans are called to reflect imperfectly, but sacra-mentally, in relationships and community. If we choose community, then, as the rubric under which to rede-fine religious life, it would seem that the second approach to Trinity is the best model for human and particularly Christian community. I would contend however, that most models of religious life, and particularly the models of community within these, coming out of past paradigms in the West, are based on the "substantial identity" approach. I would like to make a short critique of the understanding of community under this model, and then begin to reinterpret some aspects of community and re-ligious life under this new model. Short Analysis of the Old Model of Community In many ways the old paradigm of religious life and particularly of community is analogous to the substantial identity approach to the Trin-ity. Traditional understandings of religious life tended to begin with the one substance, usually the institutional structure of the community, or-der or congregation, and then tried to fit individuals into this substance. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 So they began with the unity, which in this case tends to be a formal and impersonal unity, to which individual persons must relate. In this model the persons do not relate directly to one another, but instead relate to a certain "thing" called community. Personal relationships within this type of community are then either mediated or accidental. Individuality in this model means that I have my own personal and spiritual life (that should stay within certain boundaries and follow certain rubrics) and that I relate to the group in a certain structured way along the lines of func-tion. In other words, the work that I do is regulated by and somehow re-flects the group. The theological focus and justification for this understanding of com-munity tends to be narrowly Christological. As an individual I follow Christ by joining with a group of Christians who want to follow Christ along a similar pattern. In the West this pattern has often been basically informed by a military model (although it is a caricature to say that one became a "soldier for Christ," and that one joined the "Christian army," these images did seem to be present in the popular imagination of recent generations of religious). This narrowly Christological focus in turn often led to a linear and patriarchal institutional structure within which the individual must fit him-self or herself. This model also left no real room for the Holy Spirit and pneumatology because these tend to disrupt the structures (rules, consti-tutions,. traditions, and so forth) which are the source and focus of unity. In this scheme, then, unity was often equated with conformity to a set and impersonal pattern of common life. The main problem with this model is that it generally leads to one of two understandings of community and communal life, both of which are based on the assumption that there is some "thing" out there called a community that exists apart from the people that make it up. There is, for instance, a Dominican Order out there that somehow exists apart from Dominicans. This ultimately leads to understanding the community as be-ing fundamentally impersonal (which seems self-contradictory). This un-derstanding of community manifests itself in two basic forms, both of which I believe can be described in trinitarian terms. On the one hand, there is a kind of Modalism where each member of the community is just a projection of the whole group. Here each member is really interchange-able with any other member. Personal identity is subsumed in the whole so that my individual personality needs to be altered and re-formed so as to project the image of the whole. Secondly, the term Quaternity can be used to describe an understanding of community where each person A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life is seen to be a distinct member of the community, but there is always something more behind these called "the community." The community is some thing out there which each member, and all of the members as a whole, only represent but never fully embody. Religious Community Based on the Social Trinity Model Like its trinitarian paradigm, this understanding of religious commu-nity begins with the persons, and comes to understand their unity as that of persons sharing a vital identity of life based on mutual self-donation and shared vision. So the source of unity is love and its manifestation is the interpersonal bonding of the members. Although common struc-tures and institutions will arise from this unity to support it, they are not identical to this unity nor are they its source, starting point, or founda-tion. The actual starting point of this model is an understanding of per-sons as ecstatic beings who are most fully persons when they donate them-selves fully to the other in interpersonal relationships. In this sense per-sons can and do exist in one another~dwell in one another--in a way analogous to the way in which the persons of the Trinity mutually inex-ist. So this new model demands that community be understood in radi-cally personal and social terms. This approach effectively means that there is no "thing" out there called community that is essential and un-changeable and is unaffected by the persons who make it up. So there is, for instance, no Dominican order or community out there that exists apart from Dominicans. A consequence of this is that what a community is, or what the Dominican order is, is always changing and developing to some extent. The community is always dependent on the persons that make it up. So the community is always identified with the personal ex-perience of it. Although the community is always changing and developing with the people involved, it should always grow and develop along certain lines or patterns. This is because an essential part of the vital identity of the community will be an apprehension of and a resonance with the identity of the founder and the habitual tendency to live this out concretely over time. Those in community must interiorize this identity, and come to share it in common, as well as be familiar with how this identity has been lived out concretely in its shared history. Nevertheless, the present com-munity must never blindly follow one single concretization, or absolu-tize any past communal manifestation of this identity. The difference between this. and the older Christological model is that this model is profoundly pneumatological. Here to follow Christ Review for Religious, January-February 1990 means, first of all, to take on the mind of Christ, and this in turn means to be radically open to the Holy Spirit and the newness of mind that this entails. Taking on this mind leads to a radical personalization because it calls one to complete trust in the Father--which frees each person to be truly open and vulnerable to others. This mind also causes one to re-alize that mutual inexistence is not something one chooses, but is the very pattern and foundation of life (which one can choose to ignore). Be-cause the Holy Spirit is the ultimate personalizing principle, even within the Godhead, we see that the Spirit is the foundation of community.5 All of the above implies that the fundamental starting point for re-ligious community is conversion. The absolute need for the type of con-version process that allows us to take on the mind of Christ is obvious. Community is not possible without the orientation, transvaluation, and radical personalization of both initial and ongoing religious conversion. Any model of community that is not premised on both the initial and on-going need for conversion and repentance is inadequate. Community is not then finally some thing we can do; it is a gift we are given and can only receive. It is also not something we ever have as a finished product or achievement; its fulfillment always lies in the future, though the seeds of this future are already present. So these pneuma-based communities are inherently eschatological communities in that they point to and an-ticipate the fullness of communion in the future. Differences between the Old and New Models in Four Key Areas I) Formation Formation in the Old Model often meant re-formation. It often in-volved taking a person and changing him or her into a certain type of person who acted in a particular way and had a particular mind-set. For-mation in practice was usually indoctrination and incorporation into an institution. So there was a process set up that should end at a certain point with a certain type of predetermined character who could function within a defined system of life. The model of formation was most often seen to be military "boot camp," and the primary method of formation was sensory deprivation and incarceration. Under the New Model, formation would refer more-to the whole group than to the individual person. This is because with each new per-son that enters.the group, the group must re-form, as it were, and estab-lish a new unity. The model for individuals would actually be incorpo-ration, but not incorporation into a preexisting and unchangeable struc-ture. Rather, the process would be one of being drawn into a conscious A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 99 union of persons that entails individual and group conversion. It is a proc-ess of growth in desire and ability to donate oneself to a certain group of people, and for the group to accept and relate personally to the new person, hence redefining itself in terms of that person. The model for for-mation here would be more like the RCIA. It is a dynamic process of conversion and incorporation that challenges both the individual and the community to come to a new understanding of and commitment to oth-ers. Initial formation in a strict sense would include a process of coming to know the vital identity of the preexisting group by coming to know the identity and vision of the founder and interiorizing this vision in a way that causes the person to make decisions that in turn forms his or her character. In other words, there is a sense of taking on a new iden-tity, but this identity is always personal, and builds on the character, per-sonality, and experience of the person. It is neither a process of becom-ing someone wholly different from oneself, nor the same as others; it is coming to a fullness of autonomy and unique identity. It is a process of becoming who the person truly is. It is only this process that can facili-tate Christian community, because self-donation is ultimately based on the fullness of autonomy, not the lack of it. lrI) Vows In the Old Model the vows were generally understood to be explicit commitments to live out a certain pattern of life: This pattern was often based on the narrow, military sense of following Christ that I have al-ready mentioned. The vows were then defined as being those elements that were necessary to maintain a cohesive and successful group identity and purpose. Obedience, therefore, was often the primary vow (for Dominicans it was the only vow), and was understood in the military sense of accept-ing a certain authority structure and chain of command. How one related to the community as a whole. The authority structure tended to take the place of interpersonal responsibility to the community---following orders from legitimate authority, no matter how half-heartedly and passively, was seen to be obedience. Poverty was the commitment to be materially dependent on the whole group, and to accept the priority of the corporate needs over one's own. So one could not own anything personally (that is, neither personal bank accounts nor independent financial resources), although one might have the use of things based on need. Furthermore, this vow was gener-ally regarded as applying only to the individual's obligation in regard to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 material goods, although it was occasionally seen to impinge on the ma-terial wealth of the community as a whole. Celibacy had both a moral and an institutional basis. It was, there-fore, seen as the obligation to abstain from all sexual activity, and to avoid all exclusive relationships so as to avoid scandal to the group's repu-tation and to insure cohesive institutional structures. In the New Model there will always be two aspects to any vow: how it affects and is part of the life of the community as a whole; and how it affects and directs the life of the individual. It is important to see that the vows are primarily commitments to a certain style of life and to cer-tain values and priorities made by the whole community. The individ-ual's vows, then, are the taking on of these group commitments, and mak-ing personal decisions to facilitate these. So when the individual makes vows, she or he is vowing to enter fully into the vows of the whole com-munity, and making a commitment to come to see one's own identity in terms of the others. In one sense there is only one vow, namely the community's vow to enter into an obediential relationship to the Father after the example of Jesus, based on an unconditional trust in the providential care of the Father. This vow then will be most clearly manifest in the community's commitment to poverty. Obedience in this model is first and foremost trust in God. But be-cause of this it is experienced as a trust in and openness to the whole com-munity. In this sense, obedience means essentially "to listen" (from the Latin root), and is most fully expressed by the term integrity. For the in-dividual this means that one make the community the priority in one's life, and, therefore, the person should grow, develop, and make deci-sions in true dialogue with the whole community. It means that each per-son forms and informs his or her life by the interpersonal relationships that are experienced as community. As a group, obedience is the commitment to never let institutional structures pass for common life or take the place of true listening, dis-cernment, and consensus building. In other words, it is the commitment to an ongoing and interpersonal dialogue, which is a group commitment, out of love, to live with a certain amount of ambiguity and tension in their lives, even at the expense of efficiency and cohesiveness. The com-munity and the individual fundamentally commit themselves to be open to the Spirit, and to be fully charismatic in the truest sense. Rigid con-formity, mediocre efforts, institutional paralysis, unimaginative and un-creative problem solving, and impersonal decision-making would all be Seen as violations of this vow. Poverty is seen by the whole community as the test and sign of its A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life unconditional trust in God. This vow is based on the assumption that the radical sharing of worldly goods is the fundamental and practical test of both the individual's and community's faith. So this vow on the part of the individual is the commitment to a complete sharing of wealth and re-sources with the others in the community and with those outside of it. It is a vow to hold nothing back. Furthermore, it is the commitment to work, not so that one may accumulate wealth or find personal gratifica-tion, but so that through work one may share with others, and produce fruits to share with others. On the part of the group, poverty is likewise a commitment to a radi-cal form of hospitality that excludes no one in principle, and where pri-ority for sharing is based on need. It also means that the whole commu-nity will work as a way of sharing, and so that it will have something to share. Group "navel-gazing" that does not end in service, wasting money and service on those who do not need it, over-planning for the future security of the group, spending money for services that the group could perform for themselves, and an inability to let go of past successes are all violations of this vow. Celibacy is the vow that facilitates the radical self-donation of one-self to a number of other people, so it is first of all the vow to give one-self fully and personally to the others in the community. As such, it nec-essarily requires that the person forego any fundamentally exclusive re-lationships and the types of physical intimacy that are proper to these. This does not mean a denial of intimacy, affection, and personal rela-tionship-- one is actually committed to these in self-donation--but one chooses to find these and enter into these within the context of commu-nity. This then is the central predisposition of the trinitarian model of com-munity: the choice to seek interpersonal fulfillment in a non-exclusive but fully intense way through community with others. As a community this vow is the commitment of the whole to each person, and to the extension of hospitality to include a personal open-ness to all. So it is a commitment to be inclusive communities that offer human relationship unconditionally to all. Simply living together with a "boarding-house" mentality, refusing to reach out to and even chal-lenge the alcoholic or any dysfunctional member, passive-aggressive be-havior, and remaining separate and distant from people outside of the com-munity would all be violations of this vow. III) Common Life and Institutional Structures As alluded to earlier, in the New Model common aspects of the com-munity life (prayer, study, various practices, and so forth) and the un-derlying institutional structures which support these (constitutions, rules, 39 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 authority structures, government apparatus) are not equivalent to the com-munity, but arise out of it and are meant to serve it. So no elements of the common life are absolute and unchangeable in principle. It is impor-tant to point out, however, that although the institutional structures in the New Model are fluid and open to change, there are some things that they must necessarily exclude. Leadership in this model of community is always a service to the whole that is exercised cautiously and humbly. Any authority structure within the community, therefore, must begin with an unequivocal rejection of a worldly view of power, particularly those models that arise out of a militaristic worldview. Furthermore, there can be no caste systems in community life--seniority, clericalism, and elitism are all worldly views of power. Everyone who has made an explicit commitment to the community has an equal share in and respon-sibility to the common life. So authority structures must always reflect this reality, and must always be open to revision and challenge. In both models the greatest threat to unity is dissent. In the Old Model, dissent was usually seen in impersonal terms, as in dissent from some aspect of common life. To disagree with a superior, to not observe a certain practice, or to disregard a certain law were all acts that were understood to be disunifying. The key in this model then was to mini-mize dissent by insisting on complete, even mindless, conformity on a very practical level to a certain core of ideas and practices. In the New Model dissent is seen in more personal terms as a break-down of the interpersonal bonding and as dysfunctionality. The main source of dissent is the attitudes of persons within the group towards one another. This type of dissent will often hide behind superficial agreement or conformity, but operates at a deeper level to poison relationships and undermine unity. The approach here though is to confront dissent as part of the ongoing need for conversion and repentance for the whole com-munity. This highlights then the absolute need for consent in this model, and particularly for an ongoing process of building consent or consen-sus. So the main emphasis is not minimizing dissent, it is maximizing consensus, which in turn requires that the community be willing to con-front and challenge dissent in a personal and constructive way. IV) Mission and Ministry In the Old Model mission and ministry were the primary focus of re-ligious life in general, and of one's individual vocation in particular. Com-munity, then, had a secondary role and was seen essentially as a means of facilitating mission. The dominant understanding of vocation was that one was called to a certain mission (namely to follow Jesus), and so one A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 33 was called to do certain things. One then was to choose a lifestyle that best accommodated and supported what it was that one wanted to do. One chose a community because it best enabled the work that one wanted to do. So community was formed for a certain reason or purpose, namely, because it was the most efficient and practical means to share resources, pool talents, and consolidate authority in order to get a cer-tain mission accomplished. The vows of celibacy and poverty, for in-stance, were often seen in this light: community made possible the kind of work one wanted to do. So this model generally understood mission in an individualistic sense, and mainly valued community for its func-tional role. In the New Model one does not live in community to facilitate work or mission; one lives in community and, therefore, can work and be sent on mission. Community is always primary and chosen for its own sake. Community is chosen because of the people involved; it is the decision to share one's life in a particular way with others. Here the trinitarian emphasis of this model is most helpful. The Trin-ity does not come together in order to create and go on mission. It is in-stead just because of the radical unity and self-donation of the persons to one another that they can create and be sent. The missions of Jesus and the Holy Spirit are the models here. Missions always reveal some-thing about the senders, and what the Son and Holy Spirit communicate simply is their shared life with the Father. It is precisely their shared life that they invite us into. In other words, the senders are essential; there is no mission without being sent. So it is because one lives in community, and because of the graced transformation of experience that this entails, that one feels empowered to go out. And what is shared when one is "out" is precisely the fruits of the common life. Because the Christian community is by nature a char-ismatic community, there are a variety of gifts to be shared. Furthermore, each community, because of its shared vital identity with a particular foun-der, will have a particular charism which both grows out of and shapes the development of the community life. It is then the radical self-donation conversion that sends a person out. So through conversion each person is always moving into wider circles of community. The religious community is in turn sent by the wider Christian community, and so it has a message and a mission also. Under this model, community is experientially prior to mission, and is in fact its source. In the actual life of the community, however, both will be mutually dependent and interrelated. In this sense though, very 34 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 individualistic types of spirituality, even those that allow for some form of community, are called into question. In regard to vocation, this means that one's vocation is primarily understood as taking on the mind of Christ and thereby coming into contact with the life of God within one, and of being called by this realization into relationship with others in a new way. In the context of this new relationship one is sent out to oth-ers. The point is that for those who choose to live in religious commu-nity it is community itself which is the vocation--it is the call. The spe-cific mission or function that one takes on within this context is really the call of or from the community. This call is the claim that members of the community have on one another by virtue of their mutual self-donation. This raises the question of the place of ordination within the reli-gious community. In the Old Model a specific type of work was often seen as the primary vocation, and, therefore, the community was there to support and enhance ordination. The levels of participation within the community were generally based upon the work one did, and so the or-dained occupied a higher level in the communal structure. So ordination tended to be divisive and obscured the priority of the communal life. In the New Model interpersonal relationships are primary. The vo-cation of the religious is to community, and it is primarily the commu-nity as a whole that is sacramental. It is the community which sends the person to do a particular type of work or to function in a particular ca-pacity. Ordination, then, comes from the community and is based both on the needs which the community perceives and on the gifts of the in-dividuals within the community. Ordination, however, is not the indi-vidual's sole possession; it is proper to the whole community and is dele-gated to one or another member as circumstances require. Furthermore, ordination can never be divisive; it can never change one's status within the community; it can only change one's function. Conclusion Those who look upon God as a metaphysical monad flee society to dwell alone with the Alone. [but] those who look upon the reality of God as the perfection of interpersonal communion will discover the divine in community.6 Our vision and image of God is ultimately the matrix around which we shape our lives. Who we are and how others experience us says more about the God we believe in than all the theological discourse we can of-fer. When confronting the challenge, therefore, of redefining our lives A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life so as to be prophetic witnesses to the gospel, the most fundamental ques-tion we must ask ourselves is, "Who is our God?" Likewise, when we truly come to know this God the primary question we must ask is not "What ought I do?" It is instead "Who ought we be?" NOTES J Robert Bellah et al, Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in Ameri-can Life (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1985). 2 For a more detailed discussion of the development of trinitarian doctrine see par-ticularly Jurgen Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom (San Francisco: Harper & Row Publishers, 1981); Robert Jenson, The Triune Identity (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1982); and Donald Gelpi, S.J., The Divine Mother: A Trinitarian Theology of the Holy Spirit (Lanham: University of America Press, 1984). 3 Gelpi, op. cit., pp. 13 ! - 132. 4 Moltmann, op. cit., pp. 174-176; Gelpi, op. cit., p. 132. 5 For a further discussion on the role of the Holy Spirit in the Godhead see Gelpi, op. cit., particularly chapter 3. 6 lbid, p. 140. In-Depth Wisdom A tree climbs to the heights because of roots concealed; Waves break in beauty on the shores for there are depths unseen; Mountains rise in loveliness on rock, set fold on fold; Lest we forget as we grow old. Philomena Mary, S.N.J.M. 1420 Mount Royal Blvd. Outremont, Quebec, Canada H2V 2J2 Community--- A Multi-Dimensional Reality Jeanne Knoerle, S.P. Sister Jeanne Knoerle, S.P., is identified with Woods Associates, consultants to non-profit organizations in strategic planning, management, and marketing. Her address is Saint Mary-of-the-Woods; Indiana 47876. Several bits and pieces of experience have coalesced recently to tempo-rarily part some of the mists shrouding my understanding of the word and the reality of community within a religious congregation. They have con-tributed for me what our old Rational Psychology professor, Father McGinnis, would call an "intellectual aha," and I would like to share them. The first piece of experience contributing to this "aha" has grown from my confusion and unclarity about what it means to be a woman re-ligious, committed to a life lived in community. This is not a recent con-fusion. It has been with me (and I know with many others) for some years and is an ambiguity and tension that has been alternately energiz-ing and creative as well as enervating and destructive. So much so that I have come to see the word "community" as representing a reality with so many possible understandings and so many modalities of expression that it has become almost useless as a representation of a concept. Often a group of religious tries to get at its meaning by eliminating all the things it apparently is not--physical things like sharing a com-mon dwelling, sharing common work, doing things together--hoping that in identifying what it is not, they will more easily be able to move to a definition of what it is. When the group does move to trying to define what it is, they often identify it as an invisible bond which ties a group of people together 36 Community---A Multi-Dimensional Reality around shared values, seeing it as expressed not so much in physical to-getherness but in commonness of purpose, in a shared history, in a be-lief in a common tradition. In reality, however, what I find myself doing most of the time is vac-illating between those two extremes, momentarily satisfied but never fully at peace with either. One seems too dependent on a narrow con-ception which can be counted and measured and made explicit. The other seems too vague and unclear, susceptible of such a wide range of inter-pretation as to offer no possibility of an objective, shared reality. I come away with a sense that each of those extremes offers a piece of the truth, an insight into the constantly shifting dynamics of community, but that ultimately there must be some other, fuller definition that incorporates some aspects of each of them. A second bit of experience which led to these reflections has come from my further study of the Enneagram, a personality theory which iden-tifies three interior centers from which individuals draw their energy to cope with the realities of their life. These centers--the head or percep-tual center, the heart or relational center, and the gut or instinctual cen-ter- are each operative within every individual, and are each important to the development of the total human person.Yet each of us comes to favor using one of them over the other two, drawing from it the primary energy for our response to life. Dealing more deeply with this system and how it operates within the life of individuals has enabled me to more effectively step aside and ob-serve the patterns of my own and others' attitude toward life. It has given me a sense of understanding, tolerance, and acceptance of behavior that earlier I had been confused about and often judgmental of. And it has enabled me to see more clearly patterns in the motivations of individu-als and groups where before I had focused primarily on disparate actions. A major spin-off has been to provide me with a more coherent un-derstanding of the wide variations in the ways in which members of a religious community see and respond to the same stimuli. That people responded very differently was surely evident in the past. There were those who thoroughly enjoyed and anticipated the challenge of study in the summer, and those who dreaded the vei'y thought of summertime be-cause it meant they had to study. There were those who loved to volun-teer for infirmary duties and those who hated to. Those who loved most to party, and those who loved most to pray. Why they did so and why I personally responded in the way I did was not so clear. Because the Enneagram is a system built on trying to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 understand the constantly shifting dynamics of the human personality, the answers it provides to "why" we act the way we do are neither sim-ple nor clear-cut, but they do at least provide an overall pattern against which to make some judgment. The third piece of experience I bring to this moment comes from the variety of reading in theology, ecclesiology, and ethics that I have re-cently undertaken, but especially from Avery Dulles' recent book The Reshaping of Catholicism. Father Dulles' book helped to put some, though by no means all, of my frustrations into perspective. It helped sort out and clarify the mean-ing of many of the concepts and experiences which have been so much a part of Catholicism since Vatican II. But the particular insight he presented which connects to the chal-lenge I described earlier, that of defining community, I found in his chap-ter on the Extraordinary Synod of i 985. There, in explaining the themes which emerged from that synod and which were incorporated into its pub-lished Report, Dulles described three schools of thought which existed among the delegates: the neo-Augustinian school which tended to depict the Church as an island of grace in a world given over to sin; the com-munitarian school which tended to depict the Church as the human face of God on earth, in trouble now because of the failure of conservative prelates to carry out the reforms of Vatican II; and the liberation school which depicted the Church as in possession of the wisdom of God and which, therefore, must be politically involved if it is to carry out the work of the kingdom. The neo-Augustinians, putting their accent on worship and holiness, wanted a Church more committed to the cultivation of spiritual union with God. The communitarians, putting their accent on more humanis-tic issues, wanted a Church more involved in the promotion of peace and reconciliation. The liberationists, sharing neither the sacralism of the Augustinians nor the secular optimism of the communitarians, wanted a Church that was confrontational and militant. The Synod dealt with these three points of view, but the commitment of the drafters of the document was not to a presentation of varying points of view and to a clear identification of their points of disagree-ment. Rather the emphasis was on integration, on interrelationship, on allowing the variety of colors to be mixed together on the canvas like a Monet painting, rather than to be identified separately like a rainbow. Therefore, the final Report incorporated concerns of all of these groups, but with none clearly in the ascendance. Community--A Multi-Dimensional Reality/39 Dulles quotes the following marvelous sentence, artfully crafted to incorporate the ultimate wholeness which grew from the conflicting worldviews of all of those schools: "The Church as communion is the sacrament for the salvation of the world." It was that discussion about the schools of thought that existed in the Synod, and especially that sentence which seemed so beautifully to cre-ate a whole out of three disparate expressions of the truth, which began to push a pattern more insistently into the forefront of my mind. While the community of a gathering of bishops and the community of a religious congregation are certainly very different entities, and in many ways are not analagous, they do share the reality of being a group of people in relationship to one another, who share a common purpose, a common mission, and a common tradition. Theirs is a more ephem-eral relationship--they are not together often, nor with regularity, nor as a group do they have a specific, ongoing common task beyond the one they are presently fulfilling, though they do share the general task of mak-ing the word of God present in the world through their work as bishops. Nonetheless, it seems to me we can see the conflictual issues of com-munity mirrored fairly clearly in the three schools of thought which ex-isted at the Synod and which were so clearly delineated by Father Dul-les. And those schools fit with a fair amount of cohesion into the three types of centers which are basic to the theory of the Enneagram. The neo-Augustinians, like those approaching life from the head cen-ter, tend to approach things perceptually, more frequently using their in-tellect and their powers of observation to solve the problems of life, be-ing less intensely involved than those in the other centers. Hence they more clearly see the other-worldly aspects of religious life and feel less pressure to commit the community to becoming involved in the concerns of the world, and more pressure to see that it retains its sense of being an effective instrument of salvation. The communitarians, like those approaching life from the heart cen-ter, tend to approach things from the point of view of relationships, con-cerned always with how they relate to others and how others relate to one another. Without a sense of relationship they have difficulty feeling the life in them, and are, therefore, much more concerned with the world outside them than with the world within them. Hence they focus most comfortably on the human aspects of the work of the community. The liberationists, on the other hand, like those approaching life from the gut center, have an instinctual feeling about the World; they have a kind of built-in sense of knowing, the source of which is not al- 40 / Review for Religious, January-Februao, 1990 ways clear, but the force of which is powerful. Hence they have a strong belief in the responsibility of the community to bring justice into the world, to use its resources and its life to make the world more right. Let me use myself as an example. As a person whose energy comes from the heart or relational center, I am most comfortable in the com-munitarian school, concerned with how we as members of a community can better relate to one another and how our religious community can best help other human beings be better, holier, happier, more complete persons. During the last few years I have begun gradually to integrate some of the rico-Augustinian or perceptual worldview more fully into my own, however. Becoming concerned that I had put too much emphasis on the outer world of action, I have consciously attempted to develop the inner, more spiritual aspects of my person. And now I sense in-creased energy emanating from the head center as well. Where I feel least comfortable, however, is in the liberation school. I know intellectually that to become fully integrated I must learn to trust (perhaps even more fundamentally to get in touch with) my instincts. I know I must learn that to touch and release my anger will not interfere with my relationships. I know I must be better able to integrate and act out of my instinctual center, as I have begun to integrate and act out of my perceptual center. Yet I find this center most out of my range of ex-perience and significantly harder to reach. I think each of us--whatever our approach to life--has the same strug-gle. If we want to become more personally integrated, if we want ulti-mately to create a more mature community, we must perceive, then tol-erate, then understand, then fully accept the differing approaches to life which result from using the energy of each of these centers. We must attempt to identify what worldview is ours and, without imposing it as the best and only one, contribute that piece of truth to the Monet canvas of community. But we must also acknowledge what piece of truth we find hardest to accept and struggle to incorporate it more fully into our view of reality. We must acknowledge, if we operate as neo-Augustinians from the head of perceptual center, our discomfort level when the community seems to over-stress a commitmeni to human development, leaving the spiritual aspect of our lives unstressed. We must acknowledge, if we operate as communitarians from the heart or relational center, our discomfort level when we are asked to ap-prove the taking of a community stand, thereby moving to publicly sepa-rate us from others rather than to positively underscore the bonds which Community--A Multi-Dimensional Reality draw human beings together. We must acknowledge, if we operate as iiberationists from the gut or instinctual center, our discomfort level when the community stresses the eschatological, the importance of the kingdom of heaven and the life of the other world, rather than the impor!ance of confronting the evil in this world and the need to see that justice is accomplished in the present. In each case, however, if community is to mirror the full dimensions of our humanness, we must acknowledge that each approach to life does have a piece of the truth. And we must be willing to contribute our own piece of the truth, holding on to it and placing it on the canvas. Then stand back to see the full picture which we have helped to create, accept-ing the contribution of the other truths as well as our own to that full-ness. Developing the fullness of that picture is what community is all about. And since, perhaps more than at any other time in history, com-munity is a concept that is ambiguous, even anomalous, we must be will-ing, as the drafters of the synod document were of the concept of Church, to seek among us a creative and dynamic peace about how we perceive and live it. As we now live in religious communities, however,, it seems to me that we too often speak the words of power than of peace. We fail to en-ter the world of those with whom we share the reality of community, talk-ing too often instead from the protection of our own shell, not really hear-ing, not really understanding the words of those who speak from another worldview. Our primary goal is too often the imposition of our own. Let me return to the initial insight which prompted these reflections-- that the word community has come to mean so many things that it has become almost useless as the representation of a concept. I would like now to modify that insight somewhat to say rather that community is a such multifaceted concept that it can only be captured by allowing its defi-nition to be pluriform. It is perhaps most analagous, not to a Monet paint-ing, but to a hologram---offering only one specific facet to the eyes of the viewer at a given time, yet only complete When seen in its full three dimensions. Perhaps if we can come 'to see our third of the truth reflected in that hologram, together with the other dimensions of the truth we less clearly identify with, we can better allow ourselves to say yes to the varying ex-pressions of community. And at the same time we can come to agree-ment that no one expression is sufficient for the whole. To begin this process, we need to name and claim our own 49 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 worldview, so that it becomes objectified and clear. Then we need to hear others name theirs, and accept the authenticity of their vision as well as ours. Only then can we proceed. For example, from my relational center, from my communitarian worldview, some physical togetherness, some living or working or be-ing together, seems to me to be clearly implicit in the very word com-munity. I have difficulty understanding the more ethereal co.ncept of com-munity which is sometimes outlined in the perceptual or neo-Augus~inian view--that community is a form of bondedness which need not be ex-pressed in our being i.ogether, but rather in our somehow feeling that we are together. And I have even greater difficulty with the instinctual or liberationist concept of community as being strengthened by being against something or someone else. That simply is how I perceive community. It does not mean that I believe I hold the only truth about it. It does not negate other concepts or understandings of community. It simply means that if we ultimately define community without including some aspect ofphysical together-ness I will have little ability to relate to that definition, nowhere to hang on to it. It will not fit within my worldview. I need to correct the narrowness of my vision, not by letting go of it, not by some grand gesture of surrender or denial which will ultimately lead to my feeling at the margins of community or, even worse, alien-ated from it. I need to proffer my piece of truth and then seek to broaden my vision and deepen my understanding of community by seriously study-ing the truths offered by others, ultimately respecting their view of real-ity as much as I respect my own. If we were all to do that in mutual respect for each other's view of what community is, while the resulting hologram of community might not be totally satisfying to any one of us, it could instead offer us a rich and full opportunity to explore and live out its multifaceted reality dur-ing the rest of our lives. Dyads and Triads: The Sociological Implications of Small-Group Living Arrangements Patricia Wittberg, S.C. Sister Patricia Wittberg, S.C., is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Soci-ology and Anthropolgy at Fordham University. Her address is Department of Soci-ology and Anthropology; Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458. As the number of active members in religious congregations becomes smaller, and as these members become involved in more varied and dis-persed ministries, it is increasingly common to find religious living sin-gly or in groups of two or three. While the personal.and communal im-plications of individuals living alone have been examined to some ex-tent,~ the special social dynamics of pairs and other very small groups have been less frequently considered. Usually, groups of religious larger than one but smaller then eight or ten are treated together under the head-ing "small group living," with little consideration for the special char-acteristics which groups of two or three might have. It would, however, be a valuable exercise to examine these special characteristics, since the recent experience of many congregations has uncovered regular patterns in them. Some "pair" living arrangements--or dyads, as they are also called--have remained stable for years or even decades within a congre-gation, resisting the efforts of community leaders or of the dyadic pair themselves to add a third person. Conversely, groups of three religious (triads) are often unstable, repeatedly splitting into pair and a singleton. The stability of pair members or the frequent group-switching of thirds have sometimes been attributed by others to unhealthy tendencies in the individuals involved--immaturity, perhaps, or excessive dependency. So- 43 44/Review for Religious, January-February 1990 ciologists, however, have found that it is often the mere fact of belong-ing to a group of a given size that elicits certain behaviors from an indi-vidual, independently of his or her personal psychological character-istics. This article will summarize the writings of the German sociolo-gist Georg Simmel on the characteristics of dyads and triads, and will draw some tentative implications of these studies for religious who live in small groups. It is important to emphasize that Simmel viewed his work on the nu-merical composition of groups to be a sort of "geometry of human rela-tions." Just as the properties of a circle or a triangle remain constant whether the actual figure is made of paper or of wood, so the social dy-namics of dyads and triads are inherent in themselves, Simmel thought, regardless of the individuals involved. It is, of course, possible that the members of a particular dyad or triad can disregard the tendencies at-tached to number, especially if they are aware of them. It is also possi-ble that a common ideological commitment, such as the vows in relig-ious life, may override the effects of a given number, to some extent. But the underlying dynamics will still exist, and will result in certain com-mon patterns when many groups are examined. The Dyad A dyad, Simmel stated, is different from all other groups, in that, while outsiders may see it as a unit, from the inside each member sees only the other person, and not a supra-individual collectivity.2 If either individual should leave, the dyad would cease to exist. Each member thus feels herself and her partner to be indispensable, since "for its life the dyad needs both; for its death only one.''3 The dyad is, therefore, more conscious of the possibility of group dissolution, and feels "both endangered and irreplaceable." Dyadic relations are also characterized by greater intimacy than larger groups--it is the uniqueness of these two particular individuals that gives the dyad its special flavor and which can often become "the core value and chief matter of its existence."4 Since only one other.individual besides oneself composes a dyad, the group "does not attain that super-personal life" which the individual feels to be independent of his presence and participation.5 Dyad mem-bers are unable to delegate responsibility to "the group," to expect things from "the group," or to let "the group" get away with some-thing. In a larger group, by contrast, an individual may fail to develop ownership of group decisions, or may passively benefit from her mem-bership with a minimum of personal contributions. Dyads and Triads Dyadic Living Relationships in Religious Life There are both positive and negative implications of the dynamics of dyadic relationships in religious life. On the positive side, dyadic liv-ing encourages the personal assumption of responsibility for the quality of group living. If the house i~ dirty or if common prayer is neglected, there is no one to blame but oneself and one other individual. Dyadic living has also been a fruitful way for religious to develop their ability to achieve intimacy and individual growth,6 psychological capacities that were often stunted in the large institutional living arrangements of for-mer decades. Other aspects of dyadic interactions, however, have at least the potential for negative effects--both for the congregation as well as for the individuals involved. Since the departure of either member de-stroys a dyad, an individual religious living in such an arrangement may have to do a sort of "dual discernment" when considering a ministerial change: taking into consideration both whether it is time for himself to move on as well as whether it is a good time for his dyadic partner to have to find a new living arrangement. For this reason, dyads tend to be the most stable of small groups. Since stability, uniqueness, and intimacy are inherent in the dyadic form, the individuals living in dyads may not necessarily have psycho-logically unhealthy traits, even if they remain together longer than out-siders would deem wise. For those who do have such traits, however, dyadic living will exacerbate them. Furthermore, a mutual dependency may develop within the dyad over time, even if none existed initially. For dyad members who are or have become excessively dependent on each other, dissolution of the dyad (by death or serious illness, for ex-ample) will cause intense psychological distress. There is also evidence that dyadic living can be detrimental to the larger congregation. This is true whether the congregation is following the traditional "intentional community" model or one of the newer as-sociational forms. In an intentional community, members are bound to-gether by a common religious ideology which encourages the subordi-nation, at least in some key instances, of the individual to the larger group.7 Previous research on intentional communities has shown that dy-adic attachments often erode this group loyalty, which is the essential foundation of the communal lifestyle.8 For this reason, successful inten-tional communities have always included some mechanism either to elimi-nate dyads or to subordinate them. Sometimes the suppression of dyads has been heavy-handed and psychologically destructive, as in the at-tempts to eliminate "particular friendships" in pre-Vatican II religious 46 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 life, and at times it has led to unusual patterns such as the forced adop-tion of "group marriage" in the Oneida community. By whatever means, however, no intentional community has ever survived that has allowed dyadic attachment to develop unhindered.9 Many religious congregations, of course, have discarded the inten-tional community model and have adopted a looser form of association. One such model which has been recently advanced is that of "mission" as the uniting principle behind a community. Religious may live and work in widely scattered situations and yet still consider themselves bound together by the shared missionary vision of their founder: Community is not the living situation. It is not all going to Great Amer-ica together, it is not dressing alike, and it is not working in the same facility. Community is the result of our bondedness around a common mission, Christ's mission, the kingdom, according to the spirit and charism of our founder or foundress as experienced in this particular group. ~0 But the very intimacy and uniqueness inherent in the dyad can often eclipse this dedication to mission and attenuate any mission-based bonds to the larger group. If this happens, the dyad will stagnate at the self-absorbed stage which Wombacher says is a danger to those individuals and groups which fail to go outside of themselves in true generative and creative service of others. ~ A dyad that has been extremely stable for a long period of time may make it very difficult for its members to sum-mon the courage to move on. There may be instances where both mem-bers attempt to move together; such endeavors are subject to the same difficulties that married professionals often face in locating two suitable jobs in the same area. This would detract from the mission-bonded con-gregation's ideal of following the leading of the Spirit into the works most needed by the People of God. To the extent that stable dyads form in religious life, therefore, the community--whether a close-knit intentional community or a mission-based association--may be less able to count on the loyalty of its mem-bers. This is especially true since other social mechanisms are simulta-neously conspiring to keep the dyad an exclusive "twosome." The fol-lowing section will consider the addition of third members to a dyad, and the reasons for the instability of this new living arrangement. The Triad There is a qualitative difference between a dyad and a triad; adding a fourth or fifth member to a group does not change it nearly as much Dyads and Triads as adding the third. ~2 For the first time, it becomes possible in a triad for each group member to have two kinds of relationships with the oth-ers: a direct (A~)C) and an indirect (A~)BtbC) one. In a triad, a majority can out vote an individual member, and it becomes possible for the indi-vidual to envision the group existing after her departure. Division be-comes possible among the members: A and B may share some experi-ence, idea, or interest that C does not, while B and C may have some-thing in common that A does not have. This may lead to shifting alli-ances or interest groups, a situation that was impossible in a dyad. Se-crets, too, become possible in triads, and one member may be excluded, to a greater or lesser extent, from group activities. Also, if the original dyadic partners were unequal in some way, adding a third disrupts the subordinate/superordinate relationship---either by increasing the distance between the superordinate and the two subordinates, or by making it pos-sible for the subordinates to combine against the superordinate. Special group roles are also possible in a triad, which could not ex-ist before. Since "there is no triad in which dissent among two of the elements does not occur from time to time," ~3 the third member may be-come a mediator, who can be impartial because she is not involved with either or also is equally involved with both. Another new role is the Ter-tius Gaudens (Rejoicing Third), who profits by maintaining a division between the other two. There are two ways of benefiting from strife among one's fellow members: one can actively pursue some otherwise forbidden interest while the others are preoccupied, or one can passively allow oneself to be showered with gifts as the contending parties com-pete for one's support. To the extent that the tertius has less personally involved in the dispute, he is in a stronger position than the other two, and it may be to his advantage to perpetuate this situation. Finally, the third member may actually employ the tactic of "divide and conquer"-- producing conflict in order to break up an incipient coalition. The dis-ruptive effects of secrets, ~he exclusion of one or another member, re-joicing thirds and divide and conquer tactics mean that, if the dyad is an especially stable group form, the triad is an especially unstable one. Dyads and Triads in Religious Life Because of the inherent dynamics of dyads and triads, two religious living together (and perhaps also working together in a common minis-try) often find it difficult to attract a third person to join them or to re-tain a newcomer who has come, even if they sincerely desire to do so. Initially, this difficulty may not depend on the personalities of the indi-viduals involved, but simply on the disruptive effects of adding a third 411 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 to any dyad. Over time, however, the members of stable dyads also de-velop habits and customs which make it even harder for an outsider to gain entrance, or to feel comfortable once she has. This situation has ob-vious ministerial--and communal--implications. A given school or par-ish may wish to attract new religious workers, yet otherwise interested applicants may be put off by the prospect of joining a preexisting duo. Congregations whose formation programs involve sending prospective members to live on mission with other religious may have difficulty find-ing a place where the new affiliate is not liable to be excluded (however inadvertently) by a dyad or scandalized by the divisions in a triad. Fi-nally, some individuals may gain an undeserved reputation for being hard to live or work with: if a religious tries and fails to break into several successive dyads, or if two dyad members are repeatedly joined by third persons who move out after one year, others in the congregation may as-cribe their difficulties to personal defects on their part. If the failed at-tempts also involve repeated ministerial changes on the part of the per-son joining the dyad, his professional resum6 may suffer. Rapid turn-over may also be a source of scandal to outsiders--lay parishioners, for example, or parents at a school--if the new religious lives apart from the preceding two. Conclusions As religious congregations enter the last decade of the twentieth cen-tury, they will be increasingly faced by the issues which dyadic and tri-adic living arrangements raise. Some communities may wish to avoid the ministerial inflexibility that excessively stable dyads tend to create. For-mation directors may need actively to work for the preservation of larger living arrangements in order to avoid the necessity of placing a novice in a triad. After the novitiate, temporarily professed may find their tran-sition to full community membership and ministry even more stressful if they have to adjust to life with a preexisting pair. On the other hand, joining a single religious (and thus creating a dyad) may result in the young religious beginning this extremely stable living arrangement at the outset of her community life. If dyadic living tends to attenuate the group loyalty even of long-term members, it is all the more likely to do so in new arrivals. Finally, as the members of a dyad age, congregations may find it necessary to provide counseling services when death or serious illness causes the breakup of a pair that has been together for several dec-ades. The obvious solution to difficulties raised by dyad and triad living is to expand the local community to four or five members. This is not Dyads and Triads always possible, however. For one thing, the decreasing number of ac-tive members makes it likely that most ministerial situations will con-tain only a very few religious. This would be especially true in areas out-side of the large cities in the traditionally Catholic Northeast and Mid-west. The trend toward apartment living also fosters dyads and triads, since four- or five-bedroom apartments are rare. In some congregations, a substantial proportion of the members are already in dyadic living ar-rangements, and the community government may lack the tradition of authority to request or require that these grbupings be dissolved. This being the case, dyad and triad living will probably be unavoid-able in religious communities, at least to some extent. There are, how-ever, positive steps which the members of a congregation can take to ad-dress the issues which such arrangements raise. First of all, the records of a community should be investigated, in order to determine whether the abstract predictions of sociological theory about dyads and triads are, in fact, reflected in this particular congregation. Are the living arrange-ments and ministerial placements more stable thaff they were twenty years ago? What is the average size of living groups within the congre-gation? How long, on the average, have dyads been together? How long have triads? The members of larger groups? Which type of living arrange-ment appears to be increasing in frequency? Which types are decreas-ing?~ 4 Once trends have been identified, a congregation may wish to initi-ate a communal discernment process to determine what the effects of dy-ads and triads have been for its members, and whether these effects are desirable or not. The members of dyads and triads, or members who have once tried to join such a living arrangement, could be surveyed for their opinions and insights. Two- or three-person living arrangements could become a topic for chapter or pre-chapter discussion and debate among all the members, since whatever policies a congregation adopts in this regard would have to be owned by the members affected. Some of the possible follow-up actions to this community discern-ment could include the establishment or enlargement of a specific coun-seling or facilitation program to work with the members involved in dy-ads and triads. Triads may choose to make regular and frequent use of a facilitator--perhaps on a biweekly or monthly basis--to alert them-selves to and to deal with instances of divide and conquer, rejoicing thirds, or exclusive factions that may arise. Newly-formed triads-- especially those formed of a previous dyad and a singleton--would be in particular need of this service. Job counseling and placement services 50 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 may help the members of dyads decide when to move on, and, of course, extensive counseling services would be needed for long-standing dyad members when, as will inevitably happen, illness, retirement or death dissolves their pair. The members of a congregations may decide to place a limit on the number of years that can be spent in a given dyad. Since most congregations no longer intervene so actively in the lives of their members, however, special commur~ity-wide discernment and input would be necessary before such a step would be accepted and owned, especially by the dyads involved. The congregation's leadership would also have to provide information about alternatives--both in living and in ministry--for any pair of its members who did agree to separate and move on. The physical resources available to a congregation should also be ex-amined in the light of what is learned about dyads and triads in the com-munity. In the past decade or so, for example, many parish convents have been closed and either demolished or converted to other uses. Some of these may have been of an ideal size to house a group of five or six. Congregations may wish to identify the houses of the "right size" which are still available, and make arrangements to purchase them, if they do not already own them. Any new living space which is created-- apartment buildings that may be purchased or built, large-scale quarters attached to hospitals or retirement centers that may be modified-- should be created with the effects of dyads and triads in mind. Finally, creative social arrangements may be devised to maintain ties to the larger community in the members of dyads and triads. If a con-gregation has small discussion groups as part of its government process, dyad members may be assigned to different groups. For those orders still involved largely in teaching, summer ministry or vacation opportunities can be advertised, and dyad members urged to avail themselves of dif-ferent opportunities. Dyads and triads living in the same area may be in-terfaced, and perhaps exchange members for a week or even longer. As congregations begin to explore the implications of living in groups of two and three, other practices will doubtless be devised. These should be shared with other communities. Number is not destiny. No inevitable social laws require that a dyad be excessively stable, or that a triad dissolve in acrimony and misunder-standing. As the members of small groups become aware of the tenden-cies involved in their living arrangements, they may be able, with some help from the larger congregation, to deal with the problems that arise. It is hoped that this article will be a first step in the process by which Dyads and Triads religious communities harness the dynamics of dyads and triads and con-vert them to truly life-giving forces for the religious life of the future. NOTES ~ See Sandra Schneider, New Wineskins:Re-imagining Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), pp. 252-255. 2 Georg Simmel, The Sociology ofGeorg Simmel, trans. Kurt H. Wolff, (New York: Free Press, 1950), p. 123. 3 lbid, p. 124. '~ lbid, p. 126. 5 Ibid, p. 123. 6 Ibid, p. 137. 7 Patricia Wittberg, "Transformation in Religious Commitment," REVIEW FOR RELm~OUS 1985, Vol. 44, pp. 161-167. 8 Benjamin Zablocki, The Joyful Community (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), pp. 116-120. 9 Benjamin Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma (New York: Free Press, 1980), p. 289. ~0 Kristin Wombacher O.P., (n.d.) "American Religious Life Since Vatican II: Change and Continuity." Unpublished paper, p. 245. ~ lbid, p. 235. ~2 Simmel, op cit, p. 139. ~3 lbid, p. 148. 14 Please note that this article does not predict that there will be no stable triads in a congregation, merely that these will be relatively few compared to the number of stable dyads. Large, institutional groups of religious may also remain essentially un-changed over the years. This large group stability would be due, however, not to the abstract effects of number, but to the personal inability of the individual mem-bers to move on, whether because of age, psychological inflexibility, or the simple belief that a given congregational work would not survive were they to leave it. Evaluating Religious Community Costs David E. Meier, S.J. Fr. David Meier, S.J., serves as a financial consultor for the Detroit Province of the Society of Jesus. He is also the treasurer of the Jesuit Community at the University of Detroit. His address is Jesuit Community; Lansing-Reilly Hall; University of De-troit; 4001 W. McNichols; Detroit, Michigan 48221-9987. Point of view is a factor in literary evaluation, an element of artistic per-spective, and a determinant of political affiliation. Point of view is equally an essential criterion for determining what is meaningful in any financial assessment. A number of conditions can be identified which affect the financial data being analyzed. Some of these conditions merely color the data, so that a simple new cast of mind, like the addition of a filter on a camera lens, will provide an improved impression. Another condition may be rather like a fun-house mirror, which distorts the data, often so beyond one's normal frame of mind that the data loses all cogency. 1. Point of View--a Perspective When religious superiors are mystified because they do not find mean-ingful comparisons between per member costs of living in their local com-munities, their point of view is frequently at the heart of their mystery. Failure to advert to their perspective is what leads them to ask, "Why can't we get reliable comparisons between the per member costs at St. Agatha and St. Theresa?" Concern for lifestyle quickly introduces estimates for the amounts of money needed for community support under varied assumptions about a standard of living. Often enough the "common sense" expectations 52 Evaluating Religious Community Costs about a reduction in per diems are contradicted in the reality. Later in this article a number of conditions which merely color data will be examined. These should not be allowed to distract religious su-periors from a key condition which actually distorts the data which enter into their decisions. 2. Full CostDMarginai Cost Distinction Religious superiors should be conversant with the economic distinc-tion between full cost and marginal cost. This is the key condition for avoiding distortion in comparing per member costs for various commu-nity sizes. The effect of this distinction is especially significant when deal-ing with small numbers, say three to forty, which is representative of the size of most local religious communities. This distinction brings eco-nomic discernment down from the clouds to the refectory and the com-mon room. Consider, for example, an education community of thirty members which devotes hours of discussion trying to decide whether it is economi-cally preferable to have ten retired members rive apart in a separate com-munity from the twenty active teachers. Another study tries to make economic sense out of establishing a new community for a few retired members in a parish facility which has more room than is needed by the parish personnel. .The approach to these economic determinations will most often be reduced to measuring the per member cost. And here is where the dis-tortion can arise! Are the per member costs to be measured as full cost or marginal cost units? The difference can be of surprising magnitude. 3. Marginal Cost Marginal cost begins at the very edge of full cost. Whatever is the total cost of providing for the housing, food, personal, institutional, and automobile expenses of a 30 member community constitutes the commu

Issue 36.6 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis UmversLty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other dountries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Dattiel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1977 Volume 36 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REWZW FOa REL~CIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. (;allen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. My Son's "Hour" by Virginia Ann Gardner, S.S.J.1 who shares via dramatic mono!ogue memories ---of others' contemplations and her own-- in an interview with Mary about 1Sister Virginia Ann resides at 517 East 26th Sty; Erie, PA 16504. I. The Marriage Feast at Cana Now that I think about it, my Son's hour had a special kind of beginning at Cana. Chesterton once said, "There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when he walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied--it was his mirth." That is so true it makes me smile. You would have to admit the gospels show little if any of the Alleluia that Augustine said a Christian should be from head to foot. But the evangelists had so much to tell--and, besides, when they were writing, trying to catch the memory of Jesus in words, they knew little mirth themselves. They knew only urgency as they watched Christians pay the price of Love. Little won-der they record no mirth, no laughter, no sign of human joy. Yet, from the beginning, marriage feasts have been symbols of celebra-tion. One finds few somber wedding guests--ever. And so it was at Cana! We had gone to Cana together--Jesus and his new friends, strong, simple men full of the love of life. Cana was filled with mirth and laughter and the warmness of love shared. 817 I~11~ / Revie,w for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 Then, strange that I should have noticed, I read the concern on servant faces: all jugs of wine were empty. It struck a sympathetic chord and I turned to Jesus: "They have no wine," I said. It was just a simple remark--nothing more; the observation of some-thing that would bring embarrassment. It was the way anyone would say, "What a pity!"; or, "Isn't that a shame!"---and wish that you could help. You know, if I were to orchestrate a symphony, I'd compose the Marriage Feast of Cana in a major key of sheer joy--until we knew "there was no wine." But when my son responded, "Woman, what is that to you and to me, my hour is not yet come?"--then, I'd have tympanums clap and cymbals clang; I'd deafen ears with the roar of drums. It would be a haunt-ing interlude--repeated often during the symphony to record in sound the history of an hour that began at Cana. Jesus called me Woman. Strange. Did he mean it as a call to sacrifice --a call to live what women through the years have lived? "She is such a woman," we say--and mean there is nothing small about her; she does not stoop to smallness; she endures. Still, it startled me, much as Gabriel had some thirty years before, with--"Rejoice, O highly favored daughter!" Then Jesus spoke again, "What is that to you and to me?" Was he calling me to translate and respond? Translation revealed everything: He meant: were he to act, the act would be but a first on the way to his hour. "My hour has not yet come," he had said. Someone has called its dis-cernment~ etermining the will of God. At Nazareth I had "wondered and was troubled," I even questioned Gabriel. I did not unders.tand. At Cana there was no wonder, no question. I knew! And I said to the servants: "Do whatever he tells you." Yes, I answered~knowing full well "what it meant to Jesus and to me." We would be parted. I would be alone --and where Jesus was, what he would be doing, I would not know. You see, at Cana we shared discernment: His Father willed that his hour should begin. A mother, someone has said, is a lover--a lover who gives of herself and then pushes the loved .one away, both the child and herself enriched. I loved my son; I had given him myself; I had taught him human ways of talking, walking, laughing. At Cana I pushed that loved one away so that he could tell others what to do. The pushing hurt. But long ago I had vowed: "Be it done unto me according to Thy will." Corita says, "To celebrate is to tell who we are and to say yea cere-moniously." That is what my son and I did together at Cana. I spoke my last recorded words: "Do whatever he tells you." My last recorded words! They began my son's hour. John tells it in his Gospel. You'll read it all in John, and only there. Yes, we had looked forward to Cana. We had not known what the Father would ask. He asked me to be woman; He asked for an hour to be-gin; and on that day my son and I, together, shared a fiat. My Son's "Hour" / 8"19 II. Good Friday Evening Now I knew. Now I understood. Scripture had unfolded. It was like hearing that symphony played--one I had studied the score for but had never heard. "Oh, so that's how it goes! It's lovely and aweful." John had come for me--telling me Jesus' hour had come. I knew it of course. I'd known it since that day in Cana. Lovers aren't aware of time. Days, months, years telescoped. I had said my fiat to this hour thirty-three years ago, but thenwI did not understand. It's like writing something or clinging to an idea you don't understand until later. The unknown is diffi-cult, but it's good for you too. How hard it would have been to live those thirty-three years with what I know now! But at Cana the hour moved both Jesus and me at once. We knew. I did not need to speak for him to hear me, because we were both hearing with our hearts then; and we had both said yes. With Jesus it was always yes. I guess it was with me too---because the Father helped me, the Spirit moved within me--and I said yes ceremoniously to the God of my life. I think the Father saw "that it was good." Since then, since Cana, time has dragged and sped. I've heard so many things about my son. Sometimes what I've heard pierced--and I'd remem-ber Simeon. Sometimes, though, my heart quickened. People would tell me of his life, his compassion--and I'd go back to our Nazareth days, days shared with Joseph. But John came--a humbled "son of thunder." I understood. I loved him for it, and.I went with him. Jesus came stumbling up the road---carry-ing that cross. My heart broke; it broke. But even then I understood. You don't live trusting all those years without the courage to be strong. Then Jesus saw me. I extended no veil. I did not weep. I gave him all I could. His Father, my Father, erased from my eyes all pain. Once again, I did not have to speak for him to hear me: "It's all right, Jesus; no, don't worry about me. Your hour has come. I understand." His glance meeting mine spoke too. It was almost as though he tried to smile, and console me, saying, "It's not bad, not bad at all. Don't worry, Mother." Role pl~ying? You call that role playing? Putting on a masque? No, not at all. Me? I call it gift--my last gift to him. My son, who had emptied himself to take on the masque of humanity, would understand. Emptied him-self. I'm told that is the way Paul wrote it. I like the way another has put it: "Poured himself out." That is how I see his hour that started at Cana and became a free accepted death-act on Calvary. Hearing iron strike iron was such a familiar sound to me! My husband was a carpenter and he'd taught my Son. Part of the price of that hour was the giving up of sounds, sounds that brought back "homey" memories. Strength was God's gift to me; but because he is all knowing, and because he is everything my Son had revealed, I knew he'd understand that ever since that hour, I've been very sensitive to iron striking iron. ~i20 Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 Three hours is not so long a time. It took us longer to get to Bethlehem --and much longer to Egypt---but no time was longer in all my life than those three Friday-hours. His hour was never so long in coming. My heart still shares that pain as I watch loved ones die--loved ones am(~ng my chil-dren now on earth. My children? Yes, my children. During my son's hour he gave me as Mother to all children of all time and all places. Strange! I had given birth to Jesus for one reason: so that he might be shared with all people of all time and all places. In the greatest hour of that sharing, he too shared me-- with John, and in John, you. At Cana, I spoke my last recorded words, "Do whatever he tells you." In one of my Son's last words, he tells you to take me as your Mother. His hour had come and he gave up~no---he didn't give up, he poured out his Spirit. It was that Spirit that had filled me years ago--and once again--this time eternally, I prayed my fiat and you became my Spirit-child. Now share your Brother's hour caught eternally in time. His hour is here! With him, pour yoursel[ out. III. Holy Saturday "Great will be his dignity." I had pondered those words in my heart for thirty-three years: while arranging the straw in the stable-manager; while fleeing in fear to Egypt; as I stood before the prophet Simeon. They came back with new poignancy during the donkey-pageantry in Jerusalem--and five days later when I saw Jesus' bloodied eyes neath his thorned-crown. Then, as I prepared his bruised body for burial, as I washed his wounds, and Joseph (how good his name was Joseph!) helped me with the linen shroud, I thought of them again. It would have been easy to be cynical but I had watched my son die; and I heard him forgive his crucifiers. Yes, I had heard him cry, "Father, forgive." And I heard him call me Woman. Could the dignity he called me to in that name ever match the dignity of his forgiving love? My sagging shoulders had straightened and John had helped me back to the Upper Room. On our way, John and I said the first Stations--back-wards. I made John show me the Praetorium and take me to Gethesmane. John cried, remembering his sleep. And he told me all my Son had said and done in the upper chamber. It was not the time to speak to him of symphony, but I tried to comfort John; he was young and the day had been agony for him, I knew. Then I withdrew. I cried my tears alone. The Father watched and con-soled me. Jesus had wept at Lazarus' tomb; and Jesus had said just a few hours earlier: "Who sees me, sees the Father." Tears, I knew, were some-thing the Father understood. I let them come. What had happened to my mother-hope? "Great would be his dignity. He will be called Son of the Most High. He will rule forever in a reign My Son's "Hour" / 821 without end." Gabriel had told me that. It was a message from the Father. Let me tell you--that night there was within me a whisper of despair, Was it, I wondered, a whisper my son knew too when I heard him call: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Faith is not faith, we're told, until it has been tested. That night, my faith knew its greatest test. And yet something still stirred within me--and I endured. I waited through that long, long vigil--clinging hard to mother-hope and to the patience I had learned from waiting for his hour. I knew--no, I did not know; I hoped that his hour had not ended. I fell asleep saying, "Lord, I believe; help . . . help thou my unbelief." IV. Resurrection If "appearing" means "closeness," there was no need for my Risen Son to come to me. Together or apart-~I live in him and know his closeness. The time after Cana had taught me that. Then, I had thought Jesus' mission would ask for separation--a typical human fear, I know---but the Father was good. Just as the Incarnation had never separated Son from Father, so Jesus' leaving home kept us still united. With him, I was doing the Father's will, and the Father asked that I share him with the world. I shared, and lost nothing. Jesus had said the one who best does the will of his Father--is his mother and father and sister and brother. People pitied me when he said that. They needn't. He was really saying I was more than mother to Jesus. His Father willed it so and I accepted that will. Thomas Merton, in writing about me, once explained how I felt, "I was glad because He was glad and for no other reason." I say all this so you'll understand: it was not necessary for my Risen Son to appear to me. All that mattered was that I believed and he knew I did. Ignatius Loyola had loved me, so he insisted that Jesus appeared to me first. I never admitted that--even to Ignatius; nor shall I admit it to you. Yes, you like the poem that tells I had gathered herbs and had them ready for Jesus' Easter breakfast. You like to think that, while apostles hud-dled in fear, while women wondered "who will roll back the stone," and Magdalen searched the garden--I was calmly fixing those herbs. I'm sorry. That is like a little jewel---a pretty thought. I cannot say it's more. John, whom Jesus had given me as son, was exhausted when he'd finished his memories of Jesus. '"There are still many other things that Jesus did," he wrote, admitting the world would not have books enough to record them. Some things must wait 'til heaven-~else why have faith? I say, then, to you--perhaps I saw my risen son on Easter; perhaps, as it will be for you, that vision came only ~at death. It matters not. The important thing is Christ had died; Christ is risen. I believed and, so, my child, must you. I promise though, that sometime when we meet in heaven, we'll talk about this if you want. But then I doubt if it will matter. You'll Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 understand when your believing is no longer necessary, for Christ will come again. Wo Dialogue with Mary at 55-~ I was not so old the day Christ died So young I was the night I gave him birth. But when they pulled that spear from out his side No one was quite so old on all this earth. You remember that poem, do you? It's true--I was older at 55. Mothers share the lives of their children and my Child had become sin. I think I can say he had become the sin of all my children; he had taken on himself your sin--with that of all the others. Sin ages one. Faith on Good Friday didn't save me from feeling the weight of all those sins. And with Jesus, I forgave all those engaged in sin's tragedy until the end of time. I forgave y6u--and loved you in my Son. But all this took its toll. Yes, I was older at 55. The death-resurrection act was almost ten years old then. John and I shared a home and much more besides. He had begun his Gospel and he'd leave parts with me when he. went on his journeys. I would read them in the quiet evenings pondering each word in my heart; it would take me weeks to read my son's "last discourse." All the apostles would come to see me--come home, tired, from their journeys. Luke came too--our cousin, constantly asking questions about the early life of Jesus. I loved to share my memories. They had become very precious to me---forming a tapestry now--and even Golgotha brought peace. I had lived my own "healing of memories." Things were different after Pentecost. The Holy Spirit that had come upon me long years ago came to all the apostles--filling them with the Love that had given me the courage of my years. All minutes were precious to me but when one of the apostles would return, and I'd send word to the neighbors, and we'd break bread together, keeping my son's new Covenant --then, I find it hard to tell you what I knew. I don't mean that I didn't feel his Spirit with me always. It was just that I'd experience my pre-Bethlehem days again. Jesus was within me--no longer an unborn infant, but my mature son--and we'd share together all we once did not understand. That knowledge and that wisdom were caught in heartbeats of Love. Then I'd be ready to go to the well again and listen to the gossip of the women. Christians, they would say, "are changing the face of the earth." 2The author herselt' is 55. My Son's'",Hour" / 823 Some were not eager for that change. It exacted a heavy toll, I know. But filled with the Spirit the Father sent me one spring evening--and my risen son sent to the whole world--I could look at each woman with such love that she too could respond with openness to that Spirit. You would have liked my life at 55. Did I long for heaven? I longed, my child, only to do God's will. If ever the Father had been very fond of anyone, he'd been fond of me. I wanted to return that fondness--without anxiety. The Trinity lived within me. I was content to do the Father's will. I don't mean that I didn't feel the cross of separation. I was human-- very human, and I longed for reunion with my parents, with Elizabeth, with Joseph. But it was comforting to know they were all with God. We'd be together again--all of us in his good time and that would mean for eternity. And I said once more to the Father; Behold the handmaid of the Lord Be it done unto me according to your will. Amen! .O Till I Begin I did not understand till I had begun to know. I did not find You, You found me; a small and melancholy st6ne to be carried in Your pocket, till I begin to wear, to shine, till I am brushed to a smooth and faultless final core. Stephanie E. WeIler 1030 East Washington St. Iowa City, lowa 52240 Dread (the Dark Night) and Christian Transformation Leslie Lund Miss Lund is presently working on her thesis to complete her work towards an M.A. degree in Religious Studies at Gonzaga University in Washington; her interest is in spirituality. She resides at E. 945 Nora, 4~4; Spokane, WA 99207. It is difficult to be living an authentic, deep Christian life without shortly running up against the cross, the "dark night" (St. John of the Cross), the "cloud of unknowing" (14th-century anonymous Christian mystic), or "diminishment" (Teilhard de Chardin). I will lump all such terms, and the experience they attempt to express, under the catch-all word, dread. These elements of suffering and diminishment (dread, as we may now call it) are not peculiar to Christianity, and neither is mystical experience itself. Such experiences are not in themselves a good. Dread is not to be sought for its own sake. We are not stoics or modern existentialists or Buddhists --but Christians--and this article cannot be read outside the total Christian perspective. Christians may not affirm or emphasize the negative aspects of spiritual growth to the exclusion of ultimate Christian hope, fulfillment, the restoration of all things in Christ. It is my hope, lest distortion arise, that this focus will be kept clearly in mind throughout the article until its final elaboration in the concluding pages. The Paschal Mystery is diminishment, yes, but it is transfiguration. It is the cloud, but it is truth and light. It is the dark night of the soul, but it is union. It is the cross, but it is, ultimately, the resurrection. Though there may be a number of different levels or nuances to dread, in this paper I will be dealing with a very specific understanding of it. The focus will be on religious dread, though to accentuate its particular qualities 824 Dread and Christian Transformation I Will at first show religious dread in counterdistinction to an existentialist conception of dread. There are a variety of states of dread, even within the religious context, so to further narrow the topic, this article will concern itself with the religious dread experienced in serious prayer (desert prayer or contemplative prayer-~-the "dark night of the soul" in John of the Cross). For a representative understanding of this state of dread I will use the l~anguage and thought of a "classical" contemplative, the author of The Cloud of Unknowing, and also of a modern contemplative, Thomas Merton (from his book, Contemplative Prayer, in which the topic of dread is dis-cussed in some depth). Dread Dread is a basic, and common, human experience, and as such, it is a theme that recurs in literature, psychology, philosophy and theology. For the philosopher Kierkegaard, dread could also be set within a religious context. But even so, generically it can be described as a condition or state of being that comes before and precipitates a choice (leap) from one period of life to another. Dread, then, involves the awful possibility of freedom, for it forces the choice for or against new realities or potentialities. This state of freedom and new choices is recognized as very painful by existentialist philosophers, but Kierkegaard believed one could be delivered from it by making a leap, a commitment to the "objective uncertainty." The leap is the leap of faith.1 The choice is painful because it is made in regard to the unknown and undeterminable, and hence to what is both attractive and fascinating, but revolting and frightening. It is a very uncomfortable sit-uation, marking the end of self-complacency and the beginning of some-thing new. Let us further define dread. Christians, along with existentialists, can describe it as a state of anguish, alienation, and insecurity. It also includes a recognition of the limits of reason (the experience of "absurdity" for the existentialist), though for the Christian this does not therefore imply that what is is meaningless, but rather, that the meaning escapes the power of haman reason, and lies beyond the self in the.transcendent mystery of God. However, religious dread includes attributes or nuances beyond "sec-ular" dread. It includes for the Christian also the awareness of sinfulness, wandering, exile, Iostness (Exodus themes). This state Merton describes as ". death--a kind of descent into our own nothingness, a recognition of helplessness, frustration, infidelity, confusion, ignorance.''~ The person can experience an acute, sense of his own uselessness and worthlessness. This experience and awareness of the self is particularly painful, though for tThe similarity of this secular view of dread with our religious dread, and what it means in a Christian context will come Clear, hopefully, a little later. 2Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (Garden City: Doubleday, 1969), p. 34. ~196 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 the Christian this pain does not drive him to self-sufficiency in setting up the self as the center of its universe, but on the contrary, pushes him towards God as the center and meaning of his being. The author of The Cloud of Unknowing makes this statement about the experience of nothingness, self and sinfulness: Then will come a time when he recognizes in that nothingness no particular s'in but only the lump of sin itself which, though but a formless mass, is none other than himself; he sees that in himself it is the root and pain of original sin.a ; Rephrased for 6ur own time we might call this an understanding of the experience of self-worship, with the accompanying experience of this false self as the root of sin, darkness, emptiness and alienation. Our anonymous author also wrote that to feel one's own existence, which is'the content of our modern word "dread," is the greatest suffering possible. ". he alone understands the deep universal reason for sorrow who ex.periences that he is."4 It is more terrible than any other type or level Of experienced isolation and separation. Within the experience itself often comes the realization that this must be what hell is like. And with it also comes the temptation to despair at ever being healed or delivered from it and froha the burden of self. That we are as we are (separated existence) is the source of our deep anguish. The illusion that brings the agony is the failure to experience God in one's own being. Instead, one experiences his .being apart from God. For as often as he would have a true knowing and feeling of God in purity of spirit ¯. and then feels that he cannot--for he constantly finds his knowing and feeling as it were occupied and filled with h foul, stinking lump of himself., he almost despairs for the sorrow that he feels, weeping, lamenting, writhing, and blaming himself. In a word, he feels the burden of himself so tragically that he no longer cares about himself if only he can love God? This is the fundamental cause of this type of dread, though there are other corollaries and ramifications. The alienation that causes the anguish is more than a sense of being a useless, unnecessary, ephemeral being, and includes a profound experience of being separated from God, all men, and even from the self. This gives rise to acute feelings of insecurity, for not only can we not control God, we are even powerless to control or to be reconciled to ourselves. We discover we have nothing and are nothing by ourselves. This period of dread is a time when faith is seriously challenged (as is everything that has ultimate value and meaning in the Christian's life). The fear is great that faith will be lost or abandoned, and that the see,rningly absurd and meaningless, or even despair, will be embraced instead. The aThe Cloud of Unknowing and the Book of Privy Counseling, ed. by William Johnston (Garden City: Doubleday, 1973), p. 137. 41bid., p. 103. 5lbid., p. 104. Dread and Christian Transformation entire process of dread is a crucible of honesty, where truth is almost experienced as the enemy because of the pain it causes. One sees too clearly his own unfaithfulness and dishonesty in regard to Truth, especially as it involves the truth of his own life. The existentialists coined the phrase "bad faith" which is descriptive of the awareness that one is capable of, or has been living his life untruthfully, that one has not been true to God, to his fellow man or even to himself. One perceives that he may have been living contrary to the truth of his own call or condition. Indeed, truth itself is questioned. Old ideals and values lose their certainty. There is the suspicion that one may have set himself up as the standard of truth, or there is the temptation to do so if truth is not so certain for him. Deep down, far back in the mind there are demands or calls or possi-bilities that are only dimly and faintly recognized. Failure to respond to, or even examine them, haunts and produces a sense of failure and guilt. Somewhere there is a stubborn, defiant refusal to be all one can be. Every-thing feels illusory and slippery, and out of control, and this gives rise to panic. We "want out," we want to escape the condition, but we do not know what we want instead or where to go. The experience of rebellion and anger are overwhelming at times. We experience, too, a deep hatred for God and for ourselves. God is like a "monkey on our back"--an ever constant and annoying affliction that we cannot get rid of, Like Jeremiah we feel angry at being tricked and duped (20:7). This kind of relatedness to God is not at all what we expected. The spiritual understandings and com-forts of the past have vanished. We are comfortless. To pray is nearly impossible, if not impossible. Gone will be your new fervor, but gone, too, your ability to meditate as you had long done before. What then? You will feel as if you had fallen somewhere between the two ways having neither, yet grappling'for both.6 Not prayer, or mass, or confession, or any fulfillment of the "law" can take the dread away, or bridge the gap between God and the false self. The schism between this self and all that is seems infinite. The self is seen as bankrupt and barren, and the ha~-dness of heart, selfishness, and self-cen-teredness make us recoil in disgust and near despair. "I am gall, I am heartburn, God's most deep decree. Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me.''7 But still there is the clinging to the illusory false self for fear that if we let go of even that miserable possession we will have nothing and be nothing. God could not be so audacious as to demand that from us! Even though it is seen that this clinging to the false self causes our spiritual 6lbid., p. 143. 7Gerard Manley Hopkins, Poems and Prose of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1963), p. 62. 1~21~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 "sickness" and estrangement between God and self, still the all important, confused "I" remains th~ center of worship, and without the grace of God it can never be otherwise. The alienation is truly terrible, for it is not estrangement from the abstract, transcendent God of the philosophers, but is estrangement with the All and the ground of our own being. This point being re~iched in the ¯ dread of contemplative prayer, nothing is more terrible than the suffering of emptiness at the prospect of living without God, though the ambivalence of attraction and fear is again experienced--the proverbial "I can't live with him, and I can't live without him." At this point comes the temptation to believe that not even God can be what is needed, that not even he can fill the void, indeed, that he could not be the revelation of love of Jesus, but is instead, uncaring and disfant. "Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend, how wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost?.-8 But there is a worse temptation. Maybe He does not exist at all;. and everything is meaningless. Though at first the struggle may be fierce and intense, strug-gling to fight back the chaos, finally one ". loses even the power to struggle._ _He feels himself ready to sink and drown in doubt and despair."9 Transformation While a description of dread needed to be set fo~-th, let us be reminded that this diminishment and apparently disintegrative condition is not the total picture, Much more is happening simultaneously. Does this most horrible of human experiences have a positive value for Christians? What is th,.e. "much more" that is happening? At bottom, it is all the mystery of the transforming cross, and since Christians are used to paradox, it should not be surprising that those who have come through dread speak of it as a "blessed gift." "God in his mercy protects the contemplative in this way, though some foolish neophytes will think he has turned enemy to them.''1° There are several approaches that can be taken in response to the process of dread. One can insulate himself from it by retreating into illu-sions of the world,, getting involved in society's concerns and structures, or in general, by just keeping busy and blocking out any interiority. Or, as many are saying today, one can escape it by "going through it." Thomas Merton wrote that the "chief service of the monk was not only silence, listening, and questioning, but was also b~ing open and exposed to dread."~ Those who are serious about their prayer and faith life, and gradual transformation into Christ, face, and even embrace, the crucible of dread, Slbid., p. 67. 9Merton, op. cit., p. 99. ~°The Cloud of Unknowing, p. 145. ~Merton, op. cit., p. 25. Dread and Christian Transformation / 829 and allow themselves to experience it totally. This is not done stoically. It is not done lightly. There is resistance, for Christians are not masochists; they always struggle against evil. It is the "If it is possible let this cup pass--not my will, but Yours" prayer of Jesus. Even the decision to go through this process is a mystery, and is often not even articulated at the conscious level. There is the sense of continually "letting go" and sub-mitring to the process and moving in the darkness and uncertainty, but if the question were put, "Why are you doing this?" probably no satisfactory answer could be given. This should not be a worry, and can be taken as a sign that it is an authentic transforming process, for it is not something we do to ourselves, rather it is something done to us with which we cooperate. It is the desert experience of the young Israel. Nothing is certain. Help, if it comes at all, comes only at the eleventh hour, barely in the nick of time. It is a period of trials and collapses. But it is the fruitful time of formation (as it was for Israel) and, it was, as it still is, the movement towards the Promised Land. There does not seem to be much of a choice once the process has started. It appears that God has forced us into a radical decision. (In The Book of Revelation he spits out the lukewarm.) We must make a choice. We are forced (as our existentialist writer, Kierkegaard, observed we would be). This makes us angry. We want to sit in the middle, but must choose the dread with its seemingly horrible emptiness and darkness (though we somehow s.uspect: accompanying growth and maturity) or withdraw and drop out of the process, letting ourselves become trapped in our own illusions and immaturity. Our Catholic tradition has always placed a value on suffering (more often than not a distorted value) and somewhere along the way we have all heard that this diminishment is a necessary factor in spiritual growth. If it is the authentic process, and not a pseudo one that we bring or put on ourselves, this can be so, and our faith can be deepened. Merton must be read in context, but he also puts it this way, ". full maturity of the spiritual life cannot be reached unless we first pass through the dread, anguish, trouble, and fear that accompany the inner crisis of spiritual death, where we abandon attachment to our exterior self and surrender completely to Christ.''12 Attributes of Transformation It is time to take up a description of the attributes that the transformation process of dread can accomplish. It brings about many spiritual benefits and new dispositions. Since it threatens faith, it also changes it and deepens it. The doubt and despair serve to purify faith and destroy some of the more human elements of it (i.e., the need for certainty, and a correspondence to t2lbid., p.110. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 one's way of looking at reality, etc.). It is not what it was before. It takes on new dimensions and powers. We can finally experience the very "dearest freshness deep down" of things that Hopkins wrote of in his poem "God's Grandeur." Some time during the process of dread we become more comfortable with it, i.e., with the uncertainty, darkness and emptiness. The dread has moved us mysteriously beyond the need for consolations or gratification of immediate desires, or need to control what is. The process has the power to radically alter attitudes, and once the person has been emptied and humbled through this process that is beyond his control, he can be filled with Christ-like attitudes. His stance before God can include such attributes as opennes, s, pliableness, purity of heart, dependence, defenselessness, emptiness, hopefulness, truthfulness and gratitude. One becomes receptive to the fullness of God through the process. As was mentioned earlier, it is definitely not a time to be trying to regain self-possession, nor is it a time to be making new resolutions. However, it is a time of surrender and a time of letting go of the control and direction of one's life, and of giving it trustingly into the hands of the Lord who has been in charge of the process all ~along. It is the moment to depend only on him and his grace. Again, the experience of dread forces honesty.'It makes us evaluate our commitments and motives and beliefs at a much deeper level. It surfaces questions to ask ourselves that we could not have asked before. It is a blessed time when we come to encounter our real selves, to get to know that person we truly are. It also destroys false conceptions of God, and reveals him as he is in himself. The authentic process reveals sham and posturing. It gets us down to rock bottom. It does not allow hypocrisy, and false religiosity. It makes clear our illusions, idolatries and addictions. It is the experience of being the broken clay pot, for it takes awhy our sense of self-possession or assurance. And though we can often be worried that the dread takes us only more deeply into ourselves, or gets us caught up in the trap of constantly taking our own emotional and spiritual pulses, in the end, the process takes us out of ourselves. The experience, in dread, of alienation becomes trans-formed into a great recognition, need and desire for reconciliation and union with God and our fellow man. It is said that God tests those he loves. This is scarcely of any comfort in the darkest hours of dread, and it is in no way adequate for describing the mystery of the process, but there is some truth to it. The process is a gift of God's enigmatic mercy, and it is God's work, not ours. (In the more traditional vocabulary it is known as passive purification.) Only the false self is destroyed and emptied, but to make room for the Christ-self. Re-men~ ber, we are not masochists or stoics or manicheans--but Christians, for whom each individual, including the self, is precious, not evil. But the true Christ-self cannot be happy or full apart from God, and it is the process Dread and Christian Transformation of dread that intensifies and deepens this realization. The Paschal Mystery is the dialectic that accomplishes this. Thomas Merton writes, This alternation of darkness and light can constitute a kind of dialogue between the Christian and God, a dialectic that brings us deeper and deeper to the conviction that God is our all. By such alternations we grow in detachment and in hope.~3 Our anonymous writer of The Cloud of Unknowing teaches that this is God's way of preparing, educating, and forming us through the alternation of hiS presence and absence. "As often as he goes, he will come back. And if you will suffer itall with gentle love, ea+h coming will be more marvelous and more joyful than the last.''14 In the process, doubt becomes faith. Despair becomes hope. The chaos and confusion become liberating and freeing. Hatred and anger mellow to gratitude and love. Rebellion becomes surrender. Peace comes in the com-mitment of the self to the loving will of God, and in the death of the false self comes the resurrection of the new Christ-self. The language and purpose of contemplative ~lread has a Pauline cast to it. The dread becomes the process in which the incomplete, false self dies so that the true self can come to be. It is "terrible" as the author of The Cloud of Unknowing calls it, but it is the work of love, nonetheless. The false old self dies, but this can be a joyous death for the Christian, for it is really the fulness of being. Therefusal to participate in this "work of love" results in a self that remains separated and isolated from the ground of its be!ng, God. To choose the destruction of the false self is necessary for the life of the true, resurrected self. It is to reject the illusions of the idolatry of the self. It is to truly believe at last that one is only himself when he is in union with God. "This simple awareness of my being is all I desire, even though it must bring with it the painful burden of self and make my heart break with weeping because I experience only self and not God. I prefer it with its pain., for this suffering will set me on fire with the loving desire to experience God as he really is.''15 Thus the author of The Cloud of Unknowing realizes that the suffering he.endures is really not hell at all "but his purgatory,.''16 He instructs the reader to not be troubled if his emotions or imagination tempt him to give up, for the prize is near. He asks simpl3i that a gift of the self be made as it is, to God as he is. Further, he counseis that there is no need, no matter ho.w it seems, for fear or panic or discoiaragement. His understanding is that it is a time to suffer humbly, waiting patiently in trust. For we do not know what is best for ourselves, but God, in his love and mercy, uses dread to bring us to his fuiness. God is audacious for us, and the process is nothing less than a total metamorphosis. "Now you are on what I might call a sort ~albid., p. 35. t4The Cloud of Unknowing, p. 184. 151bid., p. 174. ~lbid., p. 137. ~132 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 of spiritual ocean, in voyage from the rife of the flesh to the life in the spirit."~7 Though the author of The Cloud of Unknowing refers to this dread as a "hell of purgatory," a twelfth-century Cistercian monk, Isaac of Stella, refers .to it as a "hell of mercy." This is an even more powerful and rich notion. Here I quote the passage surrounding the idea of the "hell of mercy," for it very much embodies the reason and purpose of dread, that is, to destroy the false self, so that the Christ-self can be resurrected, and receive God himself. It also makes clear the concept of purification, not as punishment, but as a gift and work of Love. This passage must be read in the context of the total Christian dimension of diminishment and restora-tion, of cross but resurrection. It is too powerful and beautiful to para-phrase, so I leave it as it was written: "So let us be cruel and harsh for ourselves. I mean for the exterior man, so that we not offend the judge of both the interior and exterior man. If we accuse ourselves in all truth; if we judge ourselves with severity; if we condemn ourselves in harshness, we will not have to fear another accuser; nor will we have to be afraid to meet or confront another judge, or to have to endure or submit ourselves to another chastiser. What do we look for--pleasure or rest? We are on the cross. Or rather, we were in the world; we are in hell-- but a hell of mercy, not of wrath; we shall be in heaven. In the world, we sinned; here, we make atonement; there, we shall rest. There, we were in pleasures; here, in pain and tribulation; there, we will be in glory. There, we were in the dirt; here, we are in purification; there, we shall be in peace. "So let the Father be the Father of our souls and the chastiser of our bodies. Be he the Father of the Son of God in us. Be he the one who feeds and nourishes, the pedagogue and teacher, as long as childhood lasts, for him who i~ the future heir, and who as son, will dwell in his house forever. Be he for the son of man (man) theone who bruises and who humiliates, the one who betrays and seduces, the one who takes everything away, the one who crucifies and buries. If he neglects to act this way towards us, let us be ourselves the murderers of the son of man (man), but feeders and nurturers of the Son of God within us, so that he grow and become un-surpassed, or, as the apostle says, until Christ is formed in us, and we attain the perfect man in the fullness of Christ, who with the Father and Spirit reigns forever.''~8 In this same vein, though.from a different age and manner of expression, Thomas Merton also sums up the real value of dread, "The purpose of the dark night., is not simply to punish and afflict the heart of man, but to liberate, to purify and to eialighten in perfect love. The way that leads through dread goes not to despair but to perfect joy, not to hell but to heaven."19 171bid., p. 184. 181saac de L'Etoile, Sermons (Paris, 1974). pp. 148, 150, 152. ~aMerton, op. cit., p. 110. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality Thomas Dubay, S.M. Father Dubay, well known to our readers, presently devotes his time to lectures, retreats and chapter consultations for religious and priests. He resides at the Marist Administration Center; 4408 8th St., N.E.; Washington, DC 20017. No finite reality is adequately understood except in terms of its context. Even the God of revelation presents himself in Scripture in the context of a created world. The individual person is understood against the back-ground of his family, and social problems are evaluated in terms of the milieu in which they occur. A sentence is grasped only within its paragraph and the paragraph within the entire article. The classical example of this truth is the biblical statement, "there is no God." This is understood only with the words that precede it: "the fool says in his heart that . " Celibate friendship can be understood only in terms of a complete pic-ture of the raison d'6tre of celibate dedication. To discuss this way of life without a previous consideration of its primary orientation (which can be known only from Revelation) is to present a truncated account, almost necessarily an illusory account. The Usual Explanation The popular explanation of friendship in religious life is likely to begin with our modern and improved understanding of human sexuality. It goes on to say that while there was in bygone days an undue repression both of the reality and its open discussion, we now see a positive worth beyond that of procreation and we freely share our views about the matter. This may be followed by the basically favorable view of sex that we find in the Bi-ble-- even though anything approaching an adequate discussion of virginity 1~34 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 in the New Testament is omitted. At this point we arb likely to meet a disapproving look into the patristic and medieval literatures. Next the writer or speaker may direct attention to contemporary theories of sexuality as they may be applied to the celibate condition. Little or no attention is given to the revealed context of consecrated virginity. Instead we may find a mixture of undoubted truths ("the two sexes are complementary") with less secure statements (physical signs of affection [no limits mentioned] are normal between celibates) and even clearly .false ones ("there is no vocation to celibacy, only that to Christian life"). The legitimacy of celibate friendship is then supported and illustrated by the classical examples of Jordan and Diana, Catherine and Raymond, Jane and Francis. In this usual explanation there will be words of caution, for not anything at all is acceptable behavior. Yet the limits are not clear and some people carry away from the discussion the impression that occasional serious sin ought not to disturb the two friendsunduly, that such is the price of an enriching relationship. Celibate men and women need to mature in their relationships so that they can "handle" their emotional reactions. Religious and priests differ, of course, intheir evaluations of this typical discussion of celibate friendships. Some are highly critical, others are favorably impressed. My own reactions are mixed. Ican identify with some of the ideas in these presentations, but I also find serious shortcomings. There is often a lack of theological accuracy and of a realistic assessment of the human situation. There may be insufficient contact with the biblical word and, especially, there is no adequate context. Celibate friendships are seen as though celibacy itself were chiefly a matter of interhuman rela-tionships and apostolic freedom. Here, as elsewhere in human life, faulty premises yield faulty conclusions. The Celibate Context As a dedicated ~vay of life, a permanent ideal embraced for the King-dom, consecrated virginity/celibacy~ appears for the first time.on the face of the earth in the persons of Mary and her Son. It is a 'theological ~eality in the etymological sense of that word: its meaning is found only in God and it can be known only from his lips. Although they may be helpful in an ancillary way, psychology and sociology of themselves know nothing of consecrated celibacy. The celibate is grasped by the Lord God in a manner so radically new that his whole life undergoes a basic reorientation. All men and women are to be oriented toward God as their raison d'etre, but most reach him q shall use the two terms interchangeably even though strictly speaking they do differ. In every case the adjective, consecrated or dedicated, is supposed. Virginity is the preferred biblical term, while celibacy enjoys common modern usage. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality through the intimate and human sharing called marriage. The celibate on the other hand omits this sharing in order to respond to another more deeply intimate and divine sharing. Even one who may not be able to see the ¯ significance of these profoundly mysterious words can readily perceive their fundamental radicality. It is this fundamental radicality that must be grasped before we can understand what friendship should and should not be between celibate persons of the same or diverse sexes. Until we know how these persons relate to God we do not grasp how they relate to one another. Without this context, discussions of friendship are not likely to be on a much more elevated level than those of the syndicated advice columns found in the daily newspaper. Virginity, a Privileged Sphere of the Sacred Virginity is a vocation, a new vocation, a privileged vocation. To ap-preciate this fact we must refresh out understanding of the biblical concept ofqadosh, the holy, the sacred. We moderns tend to equate the word, holy, with virtuous. For us the holy person is the morally good person: patient, chaste, gentle, honest. For the ancient Hebrew, ttie "holy" is the set-apart person or thing. One was consecrated, holy, not primarily because he was virtuous (though that would be supposed), but because he was reserved for the service of the Lord God. All holiness derives from the utterly holy One. God is totally trans-cendent, totally other, even though entirely immanent in his creation. One becomes holy in this sense when he approaches the burning otherness of the Lord, when he is therefore set apart from the ordinary, the everyday, the merely finite. God's people, for example, are a holy people because they are selected from all the nations of the earth and set apart for him. This is the sense of 1 P 2:9: "You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart to sing the praises of God who called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light." Continence was practiced in the old dispensation before a priest par-ticipated in the temple liturgy or soldiers went off to the holy war (which shared something of a liturgical enterprise), not because sexual relations in marriage were bad, but because they were of the humdrum, ordinary life. Sexual intercourse was avoided at these times because it was of t, his world, whereas the priest or soldier was to enter the sacred sphere of Yahweh. He was to engage in something qadosh, holy,set apart, and thus he prepared himself by removing himself from the everyday occupations of marriage and daily life. When ther(fore, St. Paul speaks of the virgin as being holy in body and spirit he is not talking first of all of her moral goodness, though that is not excluded. He is saying that she, unlike the married woman or man, is set apart for the sacred sphere of the Lord God. As a virgin she need not be concerned with the dozens of duties that are the normal round for a wife 836 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 who cares for husband, children, household. She can give "undivided attention to the Lord" insofar as she is not burdened with the concern for this world that is necessarily entailed in familial duties and sexual relations. By calling the virgin holy, qadosh, St. Paul is not saying that she is virtuous while the married woman is not. Both are to be morally good. The dif-ference is that, as married, the one lives in the sphere of this world, while the other lives in the sphere of the Lord. This language and thought pattern are expressed by Jesus himself in his priestly prayer at the Last Supper. He says that neither he nor his select disciples are of this world (Jn 17:14, 16). He "consecrates" himself, makes himself holy, set apart, so that they too may be set apart in the truth (Jn 17:19). Jesus belongs to the privileged sphere of the Father in a preeminent way. He is reserved for the Father alone and so he declined an earthly marriage. His food was to do the will of the Father and nothing else (Jn 4:34). He could not have given the attention to this world that marriage requires. The celibate is celibate precisely as Jesus was and for the same reasons. The celibate, the virgin is a man or woman who, while living on planet earth and involved with its joys and sorrows, its hopes and burdens, is none-theless a person set apart. He belongs to the sphere of the transcendent, which is the sphere of the infinite, the other, the Lord God. This is one reason magisterial documents indicate that the primary orientation of re-ligious life is not engagement in an external apostolate but rather prayer, penance, gospel example.2 The religious vows afford a freedom for uni-versal love and apostolic involvement, yes, but that freedom is second to a prior freedom for a direct love-prayer relationship to God himself. The first commandment remains first, and the second remains second. Celibacy, an Excluding Fullness3 Celibacy for the kingdom (the only type we envision here) is not first of all non-marriage. It is a fullness in its own right. In a similar manner the earthly marriage of Susan to Philip is not first of all a non-marriage to Robert or William. A religious or priest does not see his consecration at all ade-quately until it appears as a positive fullness in its own right. The person with the celibate charism has been grasped by the Lord for a special, direct relationship. God takes the initiative and so orientates this person that he (she) "cannot" give a marital attention to another human being. The authentically married person experiences a similar "cannot" in relation to others than his spouse. The married man could physically attempt marriage to another woman than his wife but it would do violence to his being. The ~See Christus Dominus #33 and Renovationis causam, 4~2. aA more complete treatment of this section may be found in my article, "Celibacy As Full-ness," REWEW VOR REL~C~Ot~S, January, 1975, pp. 88-100. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality / 83? celibate could likewise attempt marriage but it would do violence to his person. God so captures the genuine virgin that she cannot but focus her being on the Lord's affairs and give him her undivided attention. In spiritual direction of religious one sees instances where this cannot is completely obvious. Virginity/celibacy is an exclusive God-orientation, a focusing on "the one thing," a fullness in its own right. From this positive reality flows the negative, the non-marriage. The healthy celibate appreciates and values the beauty, attractiveness, goodnesses of the opposite sex, but he appreciates and values even more the immeasurably greater beauty, attractiveness and goodness of God himself. The virginal heart is a large heart, a heart so large that earthly marriage cannot fill it. Erroneous Premises Many, perhaps most, significant differences among religious in recent years are fundamentally due to widely different presuppositions. An ob-vious example is one's ecclesiology. If one person wholly embraces the ecclesiology of Vatican Council II and another that of liberal Protestantism, ¯ it can hardly be surprising that they entertain basically different notions of what religious life is. Whatever one thinks about celibate friendships, it is quite certain that his thoughts stem from underlying premises. We may be aware or unaware of the explicit forms of those premises, but there is no doubt that we have them. A good tree produces good fruit and a bad tree produces bad fruit (Mt 7:17). Sound premises, roots, produce sound conclusions (provided the rest of the reasoning process is correct) and faulty premises produce faulty conclusions. Some of our problems in the area of celibate friendships are the presuppositions. It is no doubt worthy of note that not a few of these presuppositions are departures from Catholic teaching. I shall mention here several of these erroneous premises. This is not the place to develop my observations at length. Anyone moderately versed in theology will recognize that with some of them we are dealing with re-jections of the teachings of the Church. After we have cleared the air we shall sketch positively what a beautiful celibate friendship is like. First, the faulty premises. 1 .) "Close celibate relationships have no significant connection with the quality of prayer life." If a connection is supposed, little is made of it. The writer or speaker seems quite unaware of the primary orientation of vir-ginity to prayer, and he makes little of the tie-up between depth of prayer and the reality of friendship. The latter he seems to think ¯is simply a psychological matter which is quite accessible to human reason. 2.) "Genuine love between the sexes is common and easy to come by." We may note about this premise that psychologists themselves point out on purely natural grounds that a capacity for genuine love between the sexes is rare. Even more to our purposes is the teaching of the New Testament 1~31~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 that the new Christic love is naturally impossible, not simply rare. Only if we have been emptied of our maze of selfishnesses and converted by the eternal Word of God and born into his new life can we love others sincerely (1 P 1:22-23). Popular discussions of celibate sexuality seem not to know this. This is a fatal error. 3.) "The religious vocation may be temporary, and hence dating may rightly lead to marriage." I have not seen one sound psychological or theological argument among the many produced in recent years to support the theory of temporary vocation. This is not the place to trace out the solid case for permanent vocation. It may suffice for our purposes simply to state that the Catholic Church all through her history has held that the vocation to the counsels is permanent. 4.) "Genital sexual activity in celibate life is not nece.ssarily repre-hensible." Hence, those who hold this premise feel masturbation, intimate touches between friends, perhaps even sexual intercourse are not always wrong. It may be sufficient to note about this position that most people find it shocking, and that it entails a rejection of a large portion of Catholic sexual morality. One wonders what founders and foundresses would have said about these thoughts of their spiritual children. 5.) "Marriage and celibacy are of equal effectiveness in freeing for the kingdom." This premise is a rejection of Jesus' and Paul's teaching (Lk 18:29-30; 1 Co 7:32-38), as exegetes who have no axe to grind readily point out. The premise is of course also a rejection of the teaching of the Council of Trent and that of Vatican Council II. 6.) "The religious woman should display her femininity, or, as one writer put it, she should look 'sexy' " (in some sense he did not define). Only one who is innocent of real life (what, for example, many men are likely to think and say of this type of "virgin"), would make this sort of statement. One may wonder here, too, what our best examples of deepest feminine beauty would think of this idea: Agnes, Agatha~ Catherine of Siena. Teresa of Avila, Maria Goretti and a host of others. 7.) ,"Almost any friendship between a celibate man and woman is to be viewed as similar to those between saints." Merely to advert to the sen-tence is to see how untrue it is. No comment is needed. Signs of Genuine Friendship Even the most uncommitted scholar, well informed in the area of saints and canonization processes, will agree that the Church does not place her seal of approval on any celibate friendship. This undebatable fact suggests that there are significant differences between the holy and the unholy re-lationship. One may, if he wishes, introduce a third category, the "spiri-tually neutral" friendship, i.e., one in which there is no obviously sinful activity and yet in it no one would be inclined to consider either party especially saintly. It may be doubted in at least many cases whether such a "neutral friendship" would long remain merely neutral. It is likely that it Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality will either slowly dissolve or become more or less unholy. We humans are like that. I shall consider here the signs of the genuine friendship. If some readers are inclined to question these signs, I ask only one favor: read the lives of the saints and then judge whose position reflects their attitudes and prac-tice. All of us ordinary people are subject to error. In matters like this we are inclined either to exaggerate the gospel or to dilute it. And being sinners, ,most of us are far, more likely to dilute than to exaggerate. I trust that no one of us is so arrogant as to suppose that he knows better than the saints how the gospel is to be lived in concrete life. Their lives have the authentic seal of the Church upon them and ours do not. This is no slight difference. We may take it as a general norm that a genuine friendship is immersed in God, honestly immersed in him. It is a living of the universal Pauline principle that whatever we do, eating, drinking or anything else, we do to the glory of God (1 Co 10:31). This is easy to say in the morning offering but it is"not easy to live. Nevertheless I am supposing here that celibate friend-ship is a love of the Holy Spirit and as such is immersed in Jesus' love for all men and women. In a sense it is a participation in that love: "Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus" (Jn 11:5). Every celibate is to love as he loved. In that way and in no other. Honesty here is not easy. The first sign of this honest authenticity is that God not only was, but remains the first concern of each party to the friendship. It is not siinply that God was once upon a time their prime concern when they engaged in spiritual direction ora common apostolic enterprise. Right now he is their chief love. They would do nothing, absolutely nothing to displease him or to divide their hearts. This implies that each person is a man or woman of deep prayer. They take contemplative prayer seriously and are at least growing in it. They are not content with vocal prayer alone, even the excellent vocal prayer of the Liturgy, of the Hours. We can see why this sign is crucial when we recall the context of celibacy we considered above. Religious and priests who do not really understand their vocation and love it deeply are hardly capable of celibate friendship. This may be a funda-mental reason why some of the writing and speaking on this subject is so defective: it lacks roots and orientation. The second sign is a growing commitment to the celibate gift. God is a God of fidelity and he expects fidelity in us. The celibate charism is given permanently, not for a few years. Both the charism and a genuine friendship are gifts of the one Holy Spirit. He does not contradict himself. He who gives the permanent gift of celibacy does not then turn around0and chip away at it in a relationship between possessors of the gift. Hence if a priest and/or religious begin seriously to consider a dispensation from vows and possible marriage, the love is no longer a love of the Holy Spirit. The spiritual life is one integrated whole. It hangs together. A beautiful friend-ship strengthens chastity, perfect chastity. It prompts each party to want the celibate dedication more strongly and to be entirely faithful to it. 840 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 The third sign is non-exclusiveness, non-possessiveness. It is true that the universal love of the virgin does not mean that she (he) does not love individual persons. No one is to love others only as a kind of global mass. Like all others the celibate is to love unique individuals, but unlike the married he loves without exclusiveness. Marital love is possessive, but celibate love is not. Marital love as marital centers on one person and one alone, even though the married are to love others with a general love. Celibate love as celibate is universal, and a deep friendship with one in-dividual does not erase celibate universality. This is why a Teresa of Avila would be happy to know that Jerome Gratian has another deep, close friend. She does not love him possessively, exclusively. A religious or priest who resents another close friend lacks something of the love of the Holy Spirit. Our next sign is closely allied to the previous one. Genuine friendship promotes universal warmth. Not only is there no exclusivity or posses-siveness, but each party finds that he goes out more warmly to all people. Cordiality, warmth, helpfulness is not reserved to one's friend. This person lives the Pauline admonition to the Romans, "treat everyone with equal kindness" (Rm 12:16). Friends ought not to assume easily that they are living this admonition. It takes a great deal of detachment, self-emptying, to go out as warmly to others as to a special friend. We may recall that 1 P 1:22-23 taught that authentic love in community requires a conversion. And we ought not too easily suppose we have been thoroughly converted. Afinal sign is that in authentic celibate friendship the frequency and length of visits are limited. I shall not cite quantitative limits, but I may say that a man or woman of prayer knows instinctively what is too much in the area of time spent together and what is too much in the area of signs of affection. Again one need only think of the saints. Normal men and women who spend too much time together or are too demonstrative in their af-fection soon have a chastity problem. The Need-Relationship Experience indicates that when many young religious find themselves close to another person they quite automatically consider the closeness to be love. This is especially true of young women. When before too many months or years pass the closeness slowly vanishes, they are not only surprised, but sometimes crushed. Many of these relationships are nothing more than need relationships. One individual finds another to be attractive, interested, concerned. And perhaps the other finds the first to be such also. Then one or both find that the other answers real needs for attention, security, warmth, sharing of problems, pains, aspirations. They are close ¯ because needs are being met. This need-relationship is not necessarily bad. But it is not yet love. Love does not dissipate in time. A mere need-friendship does dissipate when the need disappears or is met by another person. Celibate Friendship: Illusion and Reality / We annot emphasize too strongly what we noted above as the opinion of psychologists, namely, that a capacity for genuine love between the sexes is rare. Need-closeness is not rare. Love is. Real love demands I. conversion, being born of the word of the everlasting God. This is why ¯ genmne celibate friendship happens only when deepening prayer happens. This islanother reason, too, why some recent writings on celibate sexuality are so superficial and consequently misleading. / Implications //We are now prepared to suggest implications that flow from our dis-cUssion. of context, premises and signs. Some religious may well be sur- Jprised that I feel it necessary to indicate these implications so plainly. While others who are well aware of our situation may be saddened, they will not be surprised. Our first consequence is that there is no such thing as a valid "third way," namely some sort of combination of celibacy and marriage, that is, physical closeness and intimacy without marital commitment. It should be said, of course, that what has been meant by the third way is itself a fuzzy spectrum of relationships all the way from dubious friendships to uncom-mitted sexual intercourse. And, it may be noted, this spectrum of rela-tionships has itg defenders from one end of it to the other. Why do I say that there is no such thing as a third way? There are two clear vocations on this score, marriage and celibacy/virginity. A third, marital-virginity, is an illusion. The whole twenty-century history of Christian virginity has seen deep friendships and profound love, but the Church has never set her stamp of approval on a third way. A least acquaintance with the saints makes this clear. Further, one need only review all that has been said thus far in this article. None of it remotely suggests a third way. Our second implication concerns dating. I have found that a religious and a priest who go out to dinner socially together (or share some other recreation) are likely to object to calling the engagement a date. I am not at this point overly concerned about the semantics of the matter, but I may note that these people for some odd reason resist terminology commonly accepted in our day. Almost everyone calls this kind of outing between two unmarried people a date. Whatever the name, this practice has its ardent defenders. It is not simply something done through mistaken judgment and then regretted, That it often ends up in marriage is not surprising. (And that this is a normal, good consequence is also defended.) What is wrong about all this? A number of things. First, the celibate charism is a permanent gift. One who has accepted the gift through vow is to honor his commitment. Vows are to be k~pt. The celibate may not marry, and he ought not to put himself in circumstanc'es that normally lead to marriage. If one responds by thinking or saying, "I have no intention to marry and there is no danger in our dating," I would answer that if the two ~142 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 persons are normal and persist in their relationship they are going to have a chastity problem. If they are not normal, they already have a problem. Then there is the question of scandal. One writer, admitting that many people in our society are scandalized in seeing religious and priests dating, expiessed the hope that one day our fellow citizens would come to see that a man and a woman can go out together with some other purpose than an eventual genital relationship. To be more clear, I think he should have said that he hopes the ordinary man and woman of our day will come to see that a platonic friendship is a likely explanation~ of why a priest and sister may date. This hope is naive. Anyone familiar with our sex-saturated world recognizes that this "likely explanation" is becoming more and more re-mote. I have met aremarkable woolliness of thought on this score of scandal. A sister will maintain that if people see anything wrong in her going out to dinner with a man, that is their problem, not hers. They must, she thinks, have unchaste minds to think of anything else of a platonic or merely business relationship. This view is innocent of reality in two. ways. The first innocence regards the types of scandal~. There is such a thing as pharisaical scandal, namely, that which people take when there is no least reasonable basis for it. This kind we may disregard. The other is what we usually mean, namely, when our action is such that in the normal understanding of.people there is basis for seeing something amiss in it. This kind we may not disregard. And this leads us to the second innocence in this woolly view. The person who holds it seems unaware that in our contemporary society a man and woman who.go out together are ordinarily viewed as either a) married, b) thinking of possible marriage remotely or proximately with this person or some other or c) doing something together but only as a part of a genital sexual relationship. It is. true that many people would admit that the two may have only a platonic interest in each other, but that is not the likely understanding of why they date. Now if th, ese people are scandalized when they see two consecrated celibates dating, their scandal is not pharisaical, that is, without solid basis in normal society. They ought not to judge that the two have sinned or plan to, but they are not wrong in think!ng what I have expressed in the above (a), (b), (c) sentence. It is important to notice about this scandal matter that people need not be sure that there is sexual sin between dating religious. Scandal is given if suspicions are aroused through a normal understanding that there may indeed be something amiss. The work of priests and religious for the king-dom is seriously undermined if people begin to think they are leading double lives, posing public!y as celibates and privately living as married or some-thing approaching this. The Church is severely damaged by suspicions like these. Priests and religious have no right to furnish a basis for them. We may be reminded of the splendid example of St. Paul. He refused :to scandalize "the weak" (i.e., those with erroneous consciences about eating Celibate Friendship." llluMon and Reality food offered to idols) even though what he was doing was perfectly per-missible[ He does not callously say "that is their problem." Rather he remarkslthat Christ died'for this weak brother and Paul will never cause his ruin. "That is why," says the apostle, "since food can be the occasion of t my brother's downfall, I shall never eat meat again in case I am the cause of my br~other s downfall (1 Co 9:7-13)¯ Dedicated religious have this same sensitivity. In no way will they sow the seeds of suspicion in the minds of their bro~thers and sisters, whether the latter be weak or strong. Our ~inal implication bears on maturity, chronological and spiritual, in ~ts bearl.ng on the question of deep cehbate friendship. If one reviews what we havelsaid about the context and signs of a beautiful relationshihpe, will easily see" a problem: are young religious, priests, seminarians really de-veloped/ enough, psychologically and spiritually, to be capable of what we are talking' about? It goes without saying that no one can cite a mathematical norm oriage at which people are mature enough to enter upon more than a mere ne, ed-relationship. In any event young people should remember that ¯ a capacity for genuine love among all age groups is not common and they . ought not to be easily persuaded that they themselves are already so capa- . ble. Young people especially are prone to mere need-relationships which they m~stakenly interpret as love. I am not saying that the young cannot love genmnely. But I am saying that no one, young or old, can love w~thout hawng Been converted¯ And no one loves deeply w~thout deep conversion. Thislis why prayer is absolutely crucial to the whole question of celibate friendsliip.' Those who write and speak about this matter and pay scant ¯ I . attention to the prayer-context are s~mply bypassing the core ~ssue. Vt r-ginity f~r Christ has' depths of which psychology has not dreamed. That man or woman alone is capable of a deep friendship who is already deeply (or at least is growing in depth) in communion with the source of all love, the God who is love. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.~.B.T. and Carla Przybilla, O.S.F. Sister Mary Vincentia is Assistant Professor at the National Catholic School of Social Service; the Catholic University of America; Washington, DC 20064. Sister Carla is Executive Director of the National Religious Formation Conference; 1330 Massachusetts Ave., N.W.; Washington, DC 20005. The authors wish to acknowledge and thank Rev. Ladislas Orsy, S.J., for reviewing this article and for his helpful comments. The whole future of the Earth, as of religion, seems to me to depend on the awakening of our faith in the future. Teilhard de Chardin Today, with the growing consciousness of the personhood of woman and with the re-structuring of her roles in both society and in the Church, women religious are providing leadership in spearheading and developing new and exciting ministries designed to meet rapidly changing social needs. There appears to be a new perspective, based on a model of collaboration and interdependence, which captures both identity and purpose, while at the same time engaging in a dialogical process with the world. This vibrant movement, in response to the needs of people, and within the context of the charismatic beginnings of religious communities, is not only transforming the forms of ministry of women religious in the United States, but is also impacting on the orientation and style of preparation required for ministries of the future. The future however, is in the present. A futuristic view of ministry requires preparation for today's demands. We are living in a time of such 844 Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / !i45 accelerat ~d change that it is estimated that people will undergo retraining ~ . for occup, at~onal needs many times during a lifetime. Not only will many religious have to re-tool for today's work but a totally new orientation will be necess,ary to respond appropriately to ever-changing needs. Professional schools, i,n their socialization processes, are emphasizing education geared to the self-directed learner, preparing the adult learner for a major constant in our culture--social change. In the helping professions this means creat-ing a readiness to handle continuous and rapid change as well as skill in generating new models of helping. Incorporated within this orienting frame is the closely related concept of monitoring and assessing service effect¯ iveness. Has this trend fully impacted on religious communities, in their socialization processes and in preparation for second careers? Cer-tainly, it has influenced a number in their approaches to ministry. More still have to ~ confront this major dynamic influencing the mission of the Church in moder~n society. It vitally touches every area of "personpower": re-cru~ tment policies, qualifications needed for the various service modalities, the capacity to ~ntegrate the spiritual and rehg~ous dimensions m service, and the tra~mng modaht~es for new m~mstnes. What are the personal re-quiremedts necessary to meet new and changing situations? A look at the emergln.g~ forms of mlmstnes may provide some answers. As Rahner states, ttiese new models of service, similar to the secular professions, are concretelexpressions of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy.~ The p~urpose' of this article is to examine the developing forms of min-istry of women religious and to consider their implications for the so-c~ ahzat~on processes, e.g. the formation programs of religious congrega-tions as ~well as for re-tooling for new and re-focused careers. An attempt also wiillbe made to provide an organizing schema, a conceptual frame-work, to,~ analyze the major components of these socialization processes within a [context of future needs. The data presented here were collected during the preliminary phase of ¯ a larger study which is underway on the new careers of women religious, related areas of role conflict, and coping styles utilized in conflict resolu-tion. 2 Thlis first phase, a survey of 367 religious congregations of women in the United States, sought to locate the population of religious in new works, that is, ~n works which were new to their congregations.3 Communities ~Karl Rahner. "'Practical Theology and Social Work in the Church," Theological Inves-tigations, ~/ol. 10, translated by David Bourke (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973), pp. 267-68. I , 2This study is being conducted by Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T. with the Nationa~ Religious Formation Conference, Washington, D.C. Sister Mary Vincentia developed the research design and Stster Carla processed the data for this preliminary phase. The article was written by the former and the final version was completed jointly. 3The istin~ of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, which included major supe-riors of 367icongregations, was used for the mailing. The time-frame of the survey was summer to fall, 1976. 1~46 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 were asked, in an open-ended format, to indicate the new ministry of each sister. There was a 94.60% rate of response which would seem to indicate, along with the many supportive statements, a high level of interest among religious communities in this area. A total of 5,892 religious was reported by their communities to be engaged in new works. ¯ Although this survey was not intended to be an exhaustive study, it was rich in information on developing works among sisters. The data, therefore, were analyzed and classified into broad categories of ministry. These findings would seem to have value in that they provide an empirical base, suggesting future directions and rough indicators for some future projec-tions. New ministries, as used here,, refer to forms which were new to religious communities. In considering the findings, it is important to note that a number of communities indicated that they have no new works, that their congregations have always been involved in what many consider new directions. The non-r~spondent group may also be composed of those who have consistently been involved in what is considered new by religious today. For example, in a recent study on sister social workers profession-ally educated in the United States during the period 1962 to 1972, forty-six sisters or the largest, number trained in any religious community were members of the Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity.4 None of these, however, are reflected.in the findings discussed here since social work is traditional apostolate of this community. Similarly, the large num-ber of sisters in this community, and in a few others, in parish work is not represented in the data since, historically, these communities have been engaged in this type of work. New Forms of Ministry The proportion of women religious in the broad categories of ministry are shown in Table 1. This typology follows the familiar classification of works according to the fields of health, education, and welfare (here termed social ministry). Other emerging forms of ministry did not fit neatly into these general categories and, therefore, were presented separately. Parish work, for .example, which involves a plurality of ministries, crosses the categorical boundaries of health, education, and social ministry. A special category was constructed for the spiritual ministries which have been in-creasing over the past few years. They clearly represent a cluster of spiritual and religious functions (such as directed retreats and prayer movements) generally performed in Church-related structures rather than in exclusively non-ecclesial settings. Similarly, supportive Church-related 4Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, A Study ~of Self-Role Congruence and Role-Role Congruence on the Integration of the Religious Role and the Social Work Role of the Sister Social Worker. Unpublished DSW dissertation, the Catholic University of America, Washington, D.C. 1974, p. 247. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / 1t47 ministries are surfacing more explicitly and distinctly associated with some level of Church structure or Church work. An example would be the role of the diocesan consultant. These categories, particularly, give striking evidence of the shifting roles of women in the Church. Table 1 Proportion of Women Religious in New Forms of Ministries According to the Type of Ministry* Religious Type of Ministry No. % Health Ministry I 112 18.87 Education Ministry 1334 22.64 Social Ministry 1912 32.45 Parish Ministry ' 797 13.53 Supportive Church-related Ministries 384 6.52 Spiritual Ministry 266 4.5 I Other 87 1.48 5892 100.00 *Refers to forms of ministries which were new to religious congregations of women at the time of the survey. As can be seen, the social ministries represent the largest group of services provided by women religious among these new forms. Almost one-third of the survey population were engaged in a form of social ministry, 10% more than those in education and close to 15% more than those involved in the health field. An interesting piece 6f data was the small number of sisters actually engaged in such works as business, clerical work, and sales in strictly non-ecclesial setti.ngs. Although a large number of others worked in non-sectarian structures, such as hospitals, they were most frequently ehgaged in pastoral work in the human service fields. The dominant theme which ran through the findings was se~r, vice, often with a highly skilled and profes-sional orientation, within a framework of ministry or mission. From the comments of some communities, form of service and perspective of min-istry were clearly within the context of their charismatic beginnings. The categories in Table 1 will be elaborated more fully in the discussion that follows. New Forms of Health Ministry The largest single category in the health field was pastoral care in Cath-olic institutions--hospitals, .nursing homes, or other group facilities. As Table 2 illustrates, a forceful trend is noted when pastoral care in Catholic settings is combined with pastoral care in non-Church related settings: almost one-half of the new forms of health ministries are in the field of pastoral care. Interestingly, too, more than one-fourth of the sisters in new health ministries are providing nursing or allied medical services in public 1~41~ / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 or private institutions not sponsored by the Church. Thus, almost 45% of the sisters included in the survey in the health field offer services in other than Catholic institutions. This proportion is even higher when combined with non-Church related community services. Table 2 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Health Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Community-based Health Care (nursing and related allied 202 18.17 services) Health Care in Non-Church-related Institutions* 289 25.99 Pastoral Ministry in Catholic Institutions* 363 32.64 Pastoral Ministry in Non-Church-related Institutions 192 17.27 Other (Physicians, dentists, other specialists/consultants) 66 5.93 Total 1112 100.00 *Refers to hospitals, nursing homes, and the larger group facilities. As would be expected;.a large proportion, or almost 20% are in in-novative community and neighborhood-based health programs (such as public health, visiting nurses, and outreach clinics, both in Catholic and non-Church related settings). This group consists largely of nurses and allied professionals. Interestingly, this trend somewhat parallels that in social work although there was a sharper reversal from institutional to community settings in that field. Close to two-thirds of the sister social workers were in institutional work prior to Vatican II in contrast to over two-thirds in community-based programs after Vatican II: No doubt this trend in the hea!th field would be greater if more Church-related commu-nity- based programs were available within Catholic structures as they are in social work, e.g. Catholic Charities agencies and other neighborhood and parish-based social service and social action programs. Also, it was inter-esting that close to 85% of the population studied provided services within Church structures and only 6% saw services in the public sector as an important future role of the sister social worker. Leadership within the framework of the Church, as long as these structures were available and viable for effective and relevant service, was viewed as a dominant future role. Close to sixteen were physicians or dentists; when combined with psy-chiatrists (see Table 4), we can see a more visible trend in the medical ministries. A small number were speech and music therapists. 5Joseph, op. cit. pp. 102, 174. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View 1149 New Forms of Education Ministries More than one-fifth of the religious in the survey population continued in new and specialized forms of the education ministry. This is not sur-prising since the majority of religious have professional training in this field and many communities hold education as integral to their mission. Most interestingly, however, were the innovative and creative forms taking shape. As reflected in Table 3, close to 40% are specializing in religious education, which would seem to be an important role for the religious of the future. Almost one-third teach in schools in the inner city and urban areas, reflecting the traditional concern of communities for the poor and culturally deprived. Close to one-fifth were in a variety of specialized forms of education to the physically and emotionally handicapped, school drop-outs, minority and bilingual groups, and a range of adult education pro-grams. Table 3 Women Religioas Engaged in Forms of Edncation Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Campus Ministry 86 6.45 Communications 67 5.02 Library Work 56 4.20 Religious Education 530 39.73 Teaching in Seminaries and Theologates 25 1.87 Specialized Forms of Instruction 252 18.89 Inner City Teaching 318 23.84 Total 1334 100.00 A developing trend in communications was discernible, revealing some interesting works. Thirteen sisters were involved in very technical work with the media, TV and radio, while fifty-four sisters worked with Catholic and secular newspapers/periodicals in writing, illustrating, and publishing. ¯ New Forms of Social Ministry It has been made forcefully clear in recent years, by both the magis-terium and the Council, that the social ministries are essential aspects of the Mission of the Church.~ Perhaps the most significant trends in new min-istries are, in this area, not unrelated to the directions in society and de-velopments in the Church. This field, which reflected the largest number of new forms, has been defined variously in the literature. Very broadly, it ~Eugene A. Mainelli. "'The Parish Community Becoming: Theological Reflections," Social Thought, i (Fall. 1975). p. 15. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 is viewed as comprising health, education, and welfare. Most specifically, as used here, it includes those activities which focus primarily on the social dimension of human services: the response to socio-personal needs as well as social justice and advocacy efforts directed toward humanizing and transforming societal structures,r As Table "4 shows, the largest proportion of sisters engaged in social ministries, over one-third, were in social work. These data are consistent with Joseph's findings: as many sisters were professionally trained, in social work from 1970 to 1972, inclusive, as were in the previous decade,s It is not surprising that religious would select this field as it call for skills in working with both' personal and social needs. With the two-fold emphasis today on the person and impacting social systems, it provides opportunity for both service and social action. The sisters in this survey were social workers in school and hospital settings as well as in community-neighborhood pro-grams which reflected reaching out to others in a variety of ways. More than one-half were in Catholic Charities agencies, in both traditional family and child care services, e.g. family counseling, foster care and adoption ser-vices, and in community organization work, crisis intervention, and other forms of outreach. More than 30% of the religious in social ministries worked with minority groups and rural poverty programs, evidencing out-reach as well as justice efforts. Table 4 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Social Ministries New to Their Congregations Religious Ministries No. % Prison, Probation, Police Work 99 5.18 Social Justice Work 168 8.79 Social Work 651 34.05 Psychiatric, Psychological. Therapeutic Work 82 4.29 Work with Minority Groups 376 19.67 Rural Poverty Work 204 10.67 Alcoholism and Drug Addiction 116 6.07 Youth Work 114 5.96 Day Care Programs 28 1.46 Group Homes and Specialized Care Facilities 32 1.67 Other 42 2.19 Total i912 100.00 Although many in the above categories were actively engaged in social justice, advocacy, and social action--as related to the groups served-- 7Cedric W. Tilberg. "'The Social Ministry of the Congregation," Lutheran Social Welfare Quarterly, Vi (December, 1966), p. 8. 8Joseph, op. cit., p. 90. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View almost 10% of the sisters ,wer~ involved exclusively in these activities. Most of these sisters worked in social justice centers or on special commissions directed to justice and peace. Eighteen, however, were in political min-istries or appointed to government positions at state or local levels, while twenty-three were lawyers, aids, or legal advisors to the poor. A number organized legislative networks to promote grassroots leadership and create political power. Sixty-six worked in halfway houses for alcoholics or parolees or in group homes for pre-delinquent or delinquent youth. Another thirty-two served in homes for the mentally or physically handicapped or the emotionally disturbed. Slightly over 5% of the sisters worked with prisoners/parolees and their families, did probation work, or were on the police force, a relatively new area of ministry and one rich in service potential. The "'other" category consisted of those engaged in natural family planning, Birthright, housing projects, and shop~ for the poor. The liberation of the oppressed, as a pivotal and actigie concern of the Social Mission of the contemporary Church, is vividly clear in these data. Neff Forms of Church-Related Ministry Table 5 shows that almost one-half of the religious working in supportive Church-related works were specialists in the various fields of ministry, e.g. education and health, who acted as consultants to diocesan programs. More than one-third held offices in Church organizations at national and inter-national levels, utilizing the competencies of religious in important lead-ership roles. Three sisters were canon lawyers, twenty-three were identified as vicars for religious, and twelve were in tribunal work, no doubt a significant future indicator for the role of the ecclesial woman, These data represent a growing trend for women to assume leadership positions at all levels in the Church. Table 5 Women Religious Engaged in Forms of Church-Related Ministries New to Their Congregations Ministries National and International Offices in Church Organizations Vicars for Religious and Canon Lawyers Marriage Tribunal Work Diocesan Consultants/Specialists Ecumenical Consultants Total Religious No. % 126 32.8 I 36 9.38 12 3.12 189 49.22 21 5.47 384 100.00 Parish Ministry There is a:remarkable movement in the Church toward parish ministry, 1~52 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 especially among women religious, markedly illustrated in these data.~ The parish may be viewed as the Church in mission; it is here that the Church's mission is concretized. Rahner, in discussing the parish, states: ¯ . . the Church will make its impact as a present reality there where the presence of Christ is made real . Here the Christian of tomorrow will come to realize the true nature of the Church. Of course such a community, which feels itself to be the concrete realization of the Church as achieved through word and sacrament, will be conscious of being united to all other communities which likewise are the same Church . "~ It is in the parish-community that the Christian of the future will experience the Church in word and sacrament. The parish was the largest single category of ministry; 797 sisters were reported as involved in some aspect of parish work. The Parish was actually the only single category in the broad classification of ministries (see Table /), since the data did not lend itself to clearly differentiate among the various forms of parish work. A number, however, did indicate that they were parish associates, assistant pastors, parish workers, home visitors, social ministers, pastoral assistants, eucharistic ministers, parish spiritual directors, and parish team ministers, evidencing the plurality of forms at this level and supporting the need for the team approach. It may also be an index to the role ambiguity often experienced by parish workers and, fur-thermore, may indicate the need for clearer role definitions. Presnail dis-cussed this, detailing the range of roles identified with the parish worker and urging specialization within a framework of the plurality of ministries and personal charisms, competencies, and training. He points to the role am-biguity experienced by the religious educator until the role became more specialized and the boundaries more circumscribed.1~ In recent years, a number of Catholic Charities agencies across the country have reached out to parishes to facilitate social ministries at this level. According to a study that is underway, 206 religious are involved in some way in these parish social ministries, either directly as parish staff affiliated with the agency or as parish workers, not administratively related to the agency but receiving consultation from agency staff.t2 This upsurge in parish ministry is consistent with the findings of Jo-seph. 13 Comparative data, pre- and post-Vatican 1I, on the major apos- ~Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T., "'Christian Social Action," Careers in the Christian Ministry (Washington. D.C.: Consortium Press. 1976), p, 118. ~UKarl Rabner, -The New Image of the Church." Theological Investigations, Vol. X (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973). p. 11. ~Gregory Presnail, "Guidelines for a Parish Worker," Sisters Today (November, 1971), pp. 416-21. ~zSister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T. and Sister Ann Patrick Conrad, M.S.B.T., National Trends in Parish Social Ministry: A Study of Parish Programs Affiliated With Catholic Char-ities Agencies, in process. ~ZJoseph, A Study of Self-Role Congruence and Role-Role Congruence on the Integration of the Religious Role and the Social Work Role of the Sister Social Worker, p. 241. Preparation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View / 853 tolates of 108 religious communities, were obtained. The most dramatic change was in parish work. The number ~f religious congregations engaged in parish work at this time increased from 17.35% to 44.90%, close to a 30% oost-Vatican increase. Thus, we can expect---on the basis of these data, a continued upswing in parish work with a greater differentiation among ministry roles and a continued use and refinement of the team approach. The challenge remains to identify and elaborate the emerging patterns of parish ministry. The Spiritual Ministries Spiritual ministries, close to 5% of the new ministries, represented an emerging field in which the religio-spiritual dimension is the primary focus. These are closely related to pastoral ministry, but differ in that generally thry' are performed within church structures rather than in a setting in which one of the helping professions is the host-profession such as the hospital or the social agency. These ministries consisted largely of houses of prayer, retreat work---especially directed retreats, and prayer move-ments. Summary A two-pronged trend is reflected vividly in these data: concern with religious/spiritual aspects of the person (as evidenced in pastoral care, religious education and the directly spiritual ministries) and with the social dimension of human need (noted in the large number of religious engaged in the social ministries). Parish work may be viewed as reflecting both trends as the parish is concerned with socio-religious needs of persons through its developing approaches or team ministries. Deepening insight into the Pauline concept of the plurality of ministries is illustrated remark-ably in the growth in ministries at this level, particularly among women religious. The emphasis on social need was not only reflected in the increase in social ministries but also in the service modalities and organizational patterns in the health and education fields. The upswing in parish work, social work, pastoral care in health settings, and religious educationhin that order--would seem to forecast that these will be important future roles of women religious. A Conceptual Framework for the Study of Formation Programs The literature on adult socialization~4 is rich in its implications for for- ~4Socialization is the process by which one learns the ways of a given group. Often, it is defined as role learning. In adulthood, it refers to training for life or occupational roles. Studies have been done on socialization processes in such professions as nursing and medicine. No published research has been located by the authors on preparation for the role of the woman religious. I]54 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 mation programs in religious communities and provides tools for critical examination and assessment. The work of Brim and Wheeler is particularly useful as it identifies core variables which influence socialization out-comes.~ 5 It suggests a broad conceptual model to study the essential com-ponents of formation and aids in raising questions about current structural patterns, Central concepts are: the recruit or socializee: the candidate; the socializing agency: the religious community; the socializing agent: .for-mation personnel; and, the socialization process: the process of formation. The importance of taking another look at formation programs becomes obvious not only in considering the trends in ministry but in recent work-shop experiences of the National Religious Formation Conference. During workshop meetings, both men and women religious were asked to define the qualities needed for the future religious. Most frequently projected characteristics were: (1)self-direction; (2) the willingness to search, risk, and deal with uncertainty; (3) a deepening spiritual life; (4) a sense of rootedness in the charism of the institute;and, (5) a global mission concern. These characteristics and the new ministries suggest the need for an orienting philosophy of learning geared to the adult learner. Cartwell, in an excellent article on current educational models in formation programs, clearly identifies the need for an integrated cognitive-experiential-devel-opmental approach appropriate to today's social and cultural needs.~6 The proposed approach to learning is the adult learning model, androgogy, which prepares the person for self-direction and on-gbing learning. This approach is grounded in active participation, mutual sharing, and a readiness to learn. It recognizes not only the potential of the recruit but also the learned skills and past experiences which are brought to the new learn-ing situation.~r ~ With the trend awayJfrom institutional forms of ministry to community and parish-based work, many religious are moving from highly structured settings to natural ecological settings which are often ambiguous and lack-ing in role clarity. Such settings require that structures not only be created but implemented effectively and that roles be defined and continuously reclarified. Services at these levels demand creative action and continued innovation. Collaborative team approaches are required, calling for a high degree of skill in interpersonal communication as well as in coping with conflictuai role demands. Competency and evaluation (a trend in our so- 15Orville G. Brim and Stanton Wheeler, Socialization After Childhood (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1966). ~6Peter W. Cartwell, O.F.M., "Formation--Whither or Whether," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XXXll (September, 1973), p. 1050. ~rMalcolm Knowles, The Adult Learner: Neglected Species (Houston: Gulf Publishing Com-pany, 1973). Preparation ,for New Ministries: A Futuristic View ciety where resources and commodities are scarce) will be essential to assess program effectiveness. Increasingly, then, ministry will require self-directed persons, ready to generate new service modalities, negotiate role demands, and collaborate with others in attempting to find solutions to complex problems. The Recruit-Candidate Very often young people today have broad experiences. Frequently, they are well traveled and view such experiences as important to their on-going development. Generally, those who enter the helping professions have a high degree of commitment to serve the needs of others. Those who would enter a religious community seek to deepen their value-orientation and share similar values with others in community. Many have been ex- :posed to an adult learning style, basically experiential, moving from the realm of the empirical and from skill in doing to the level of abstraction and conceptualization. They freely challenge ideas and existing structures, ex-pecting an openness of response and, themselves, inviting feedback. Where opeaness is absent, confrontation is often heightened. They seek an ex-panding personal development and view some contemporary religious structures as constricting growth potential. The questionmust be raised: Can present structures of many formation programs attract, support, and enhance the goals of these young women? In view of the socialization outcomes required fo~ the new ministries, what personal qualifications are needed in the recruit at entrance?~Selection and socialization processes obviously interact. Etzione states that where both are high, socialization should be effective.18 Space does not permit further discussion of the prospective candidate. It seems sufficient here to raise these basic questions. The Structure Granting the developmental-experiential nature of adult learning, one must consider the environmental or structural conditions which foster it. Organizational arrangements of formation programs will require on-going examination in the light of trends in ministries and related learning needs. A basic assumption of the androgogical model implies change in the self-concept moving from one of dependence, to increasing self-direction.19 When operationalized in structures, this assumption is reflected in mutual trust and collaboration, flexibility, freedom to express differences, and active participation in learning. These structures should be geared to fa- ~SAmitai Etzione, Complex Organizations (New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961). ~Knowles, op. cit., p. 45. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 cilitate growth and provide experiential as well as didactic learning oppor-tunities, a direction underway in many communities. Self-concept theory and research have demonstrated the impact of ref-erence groups on the self-concept of the person. Where a person constantly receives negative images, a negative concept of self may develop. In the past religious structures emphasized negative feedback, often forming negative self-concepts in religious. Current structures must be realistic, emphasizing positive as well as constructive negative feedback. Such an orientation contributes to a realistic self-concept and confidence in both self-direction and leadership skills. The Socializing Agent Fundamentally, formation personnel must be comfortable with the self-directed contemporary religious. Question must be raised as to appropriate preparation for formation team members. The predominant emphasis has been largely theological while also drawing from the humanistic psychol-ogies. Since the new ministries require an on-going diaiogical process with the world, it would seem that a broadened training would be required drawing from the social sciences and the secular professions. This would highlight the environment, the interaction between the person and the so-cial context--in this situation, the community. The environmental aspects and their influences on the person need to be emphasized. The self is in constant interaction with social structures, both within and outside the community. Formation personnel need to be more aware of the impact of structures on the person in community and how the person can impact on structure, as a basis for mutual and on-going growth and change. The Process The process of socialization, which seeks to identify how a specific role is internalized, has been studied in a number of professions,z° Greater attention needs to be given to this process in formation programs. The work of Kinnane and Preister suggests that the ultimate direction of socialization should be characterized by a movement from dependence and indepen-dence to interdependence; the development from self-centered behavior to social behavior; growth in maturity; and, the increasing integration of re-ligio- spiritual values in ministry.2t Z°Howard Becker, et ~il., eds., Institutions and the Person (Chicago: Aldine Publishers, 1968). ZlJohn F. Kinnane, Career Development for Priests and Religious (Washington, D.C.: CARA, 1970); Steven Preister, "The Professional Socialization of the Seminarian into the Career of Priesthood." Unpublished paper, Catholic University of America, 1976. PreParation for New Ministries: A Futuristic View The formation process involves both formal and informal components. Basically, the formal process occurs in sequential phases, clearly marked by rites of passage or movement from affiliate or candidacy status to the position of novice or of commitment. Informal processes, however, operate and may be identified. It has been observed in one community that religious often proceed from the initial stage with some role ambiguities, to a positive identification with community (often at the beginning of the novitiate) to a negative identification, followed by a more realistic conceptma stage of interdependence in community and the beginning of internalized commit-ment (generally toward the end of the novitiate),z2 Although this was found to be th~ usual process, individual variations in development and regression may occur throughout the process. It does suggest, however, a process of integration and internalization which continues in all adult life. Young religious need to be continuously confronted throughout this process to recognize both positive and negative aspects of the religious community and consider within this context where they are, personally, at a given time as they develop a realistic view of the community and seek to serve within its framework of ministry, they have already begun to internalize their religious commitment. To be fixated in either a positive or a negative phase may well reflect a question of personal commitment within this particular life style. With the complexities of living in society today and the greater demands in ministry, it seems that more attention must be given to the processes of initial and on-going formation. Conclusion In conclusion, religious of the future are now, in fact defining them-selves. This paper has presented indicators for the future role of women religious based on ministries which were identified as new to their con-gregations. An orienting conceptual model was formulated to examine ex-isting struciures and processes of formation programs as well as to raise questions as to how these programs are preparing religious for future roles in ministry. A further question, however, needs to be asked. Although religious communities are intellectually endorsing new ministries, are affective sup-port structures being provided for these newly developing works? These survey findings therefore, compel communities not only to address their newly developing forms of ministry but also to consider the support sys-tems provided for these new directions. 22Sister Mary Vincentia Joseph, M.S.B.T., "S~cialization in a Religious Community." Un-published paper, Catholic University of America, 1974. This paper was prepared in con-junction with research on the socialization process of one community. Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" Anne Marie Harnett, S.N.J.M. Sister Anne Marie received permission for a "contemplative sabbatical" last year, during which time she resided with, and lived the life of several contemplative communities. Presently she is doing graduate studies in theology and resides at 519 Varnum St., N.W.; Washington, DC 20011. The poet's labor is to struggle with the meaninglessness and silence of the world until he can force it to mean, until he can make the silence answer and the non-being be. It is a labor which undertakes to "know" the world not by exegesis or demonstration or proofs but directly, as a man knows apple in the mouth.1 When I read this paragraph recently, I was excited. It seemed to express what I have been trying to do this year during a "contemplative sabbat-ical." Aboht a y.ear ago, I asked for the opportunity for an extended ex-perience oUsolitude because of a somewhat hazy intuition 'that such an orientation was at the source of any ministry for justice (a large interest of mine) and it was itself a powerful witness to the consumer ~ociety in which we live. ~' I address these reflections particularly to those men and women who" might also feel called to an experience of solitude--to encourage them. I speak to contemplative communities--to thank them for their hospitality to me when I needed to be a "temporary monk." I hope that these few thoughts will encourage contemplative groups of women especially to con-sider this kind of hospitality as a service to the Church. Since September I have been struggling with the meaninglessness and silence--sometimes catching glimpses of the answer and the being--in a seemingly endless game of hide and seek. I have let the various elements of the experience speak to me, wondering at times what all this has to do 1Archibald MacLeish, Poetry and Experience (Boston, 1961), pp. 8-9, in The Courage to Create by Rollo May (New York: Bantam Books, 1976), p. 89. 858 Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" / 859 with ordinary living, let alone with problems of violence, poverty, injustice, the needs and :,:~oblems of people today. Sometimes I have felt anxious and frustrated: c:,.cu joy-filled, occasionally guilty, generally at peace, "r,. year has been. a tapestry. It has provided me with a variety of experiences resulting in changed attitudes and new and keener aware-nesses. Many of the designs iffthis tapestry have not yet been woven, and like the underside of a tapestry, the pattern is not readily visible to me. Because I am always wary of instant experts, of people who spend a few weeks in a foreign country and then lecture or write about the people and culture of that country, I hesitate to say a great deal even about the early part of my adventure in the "desert"; certainly I cannot yet write about my current "Carmelite phase." I would like however to share my reflections on the short experience I had in a Trappist monastery in Mistassini, Quebec. The monks'there have opened their choir to both men and women, and so I had the privilege of sharing fully in their prayer from Vigil at 3:30 A.M. until Compline at 7:30 P.M. Their Office is beautiful inits simplicity. I found that it not only satisfied 'my need.for beauty in worship but that it completed my own prayer; whatever the mood or message of my prayer might have been. The Hours became~for me a stream into which I could jump at various times of the day, a stream which carried: along with it all my hopes, as-pirations and activities. Because chanting Office at 3:30 A.M. is so foreign to most of us, I would like to say a little abotlt Vigil. It was never easy; seldom .was it bright With praise or, comforting in sorrow or pain. It was to me what its name suggests: watching and waiting. I often thought all of this would be absurd if God did not exist, if he were not God with us and for usl Often too I would think of and so pray for other people who-were up for other reasons: those on night shifts, parents with sick children, street people, those with no bed to go to. At other times I would think of people close to me, some of them watching and waiting in a way only they could know; other~ now fully enjoying him for whom we in that church were keeping vigil. Often too I would just manage to be there. Always I knew that all the stars were laughing at our wonder. I became more keenly aware of the apostolic dimension of prayer, both liturgical and personal, knowing that my prayer and that of the monks and other guests extended far beyond the confines of that church. This is so because of the nature of liturgical prayer, because of the eucharist and our faith in its cosmic dimensions~, but also because of what happens in prayer. The experience of a deep need of liberation and healing, the experience of both the presence and the apparent absence of God, and of his absolute fidelity, the relationship of this prayer to daily life with its demands, calls, and responses--all this is a microcosm of the world today with its own great need for liberation and healing, and its search for God whom so many have dismissed or do not know. ~160 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/6 This experience in prayer brought me new attitudes toward solitude. For some time I had found periods apart renewing and increasingly nec-essary to my well-being. So when I went to Mistassini I considered it under this primarily physical or geographical aspect. Now, while I realize the necessity and appreciate the value of periods of physical solitude, I have come to think of it more as "an enclosure" I carry around with me. It is an inner attitude in line with the thought of Thomas Merton expressed in Contemplation in a Worm of Action. As I understand it, he sees solitude as a probing for truth, first of all in oneself; it is the acceptance of one's identity and of one's lot as given by God. While probing for truth and forming convictions, one seeks the courage to live, to witness in accordance with these convictions. It involves making decisions, consonant with one's inner reality and in the light of God's truth and love.2 I became more aware of the fact that my search and probing is a pil-grimage. Like Abraham I have set forth in the desert hearing the call, "Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father's house to a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1). While my predominant mood as I set out on this pilgrimage was one of joy in God's presence, yet solitude sometimes brought me fear of the future, an angst fear. This reality I found also described by Thomas Merton: "The man who wants to deepen his existential awareness has to make a break with ordinary existence, and this break is costly. It cannot be made without anguish and suffering. It implies loneliness, and the disorientation of one who has to recognize that the old signposts don't show him his way, and that in fact he has to find the way by himself without a map.''3 Perhaps I will always have to live with this anguish because the old signposts are in fact gone, and the new ones are very hazy. Certainly they will never be as clear-cut and sharply defined as they were in the past. Very likely the way will never be clearly mapped out. Yet I have become more at home with my anxiety and at times even welcome it as an experience of my powerlessness, as a call to total de-pendence on God. Recently I found a passage in The Courage to Create by Rollo May which describes in psychological terms this aspect of solitude. The ex-perience of encounter, encounte¢ implying a deep commitment, always brings anxiety because of the shaking of the self-world relationship which occurs in the encounter. "Our sense of identity is threatened: the world is not as we experienced it before; and since self and world are always cor-related, we no longer are what we were before . The anxiety we feel is temporary rootlessness, disorientation; it is the anxiety of nothingness.''4 In mature creativity anxiety must be confronted if we are to experience joy. 2Thomas Merton, Contemplation in a World of Action (New York: Image Books, 1973), Chapter III, "The Identity Crisis," pp. 75-100. aIbid., p. 126. ~Ibid., p. 107. Reflections of a "Temporary Monk" / 861 I can live with anxiety and anguish, confront them and experience joy because of my faith and trust in God, and because of the love relationship I experience with him. The anxiety is then transformed into resting in him. It' is living in that marvelous gap between what my faith sees and feels and what God knows and is actually accomplishing in me; between my desire to live as he wants me to live, to be the person he wants me to be, and the fulfillment of this desire. It is a living of the words of Isaiah, "See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? In the desert I make a way, in the wasteland, rivers" (Is 43:9). During the summer just before my sabbatical year I was a journalist at our general chapter which was one of reflection and discernment on our charism and our response to it in the world today. During the c.hapter our foundress was very much alive and present to us; she continued to be present to me during these weeks of solitude. As I reflected on my life as a woman religious and on hers, I saw that she had creative imagination'~ which she used in service to the Church. She consulted the signs of the times and, with eyes wide and in perfect freedom, said yes. This yes meant leaving a respectable and secure position, setting herself and her two com-panions up in an attic, opening a small school with no financial means, embarking on unknown seas in an as yet unfounded community. She said thisyes daily depending totally on God in faith and love. It seems to me that this is the kind of response to which God calls us today: the witness of a life--creative, integrated, with a willingness to risk, dedicated to the gospel. As I write these reflections in my room in the Bronx Carmel, I am looking at a little collection of prints tacked on my wall: La Misereuse accroupie (a woman crouching, possibly in prayer) by Picasso, Christ Mocked by Soldiers by Rouault, The Burghers of Calais and La Pensde by Rodin, the South Rose Window and Lancets from the Cathedral of Chartres. Beside them is the quote, "Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves." The collection symbolizes the strands of life that have brought me here and the threads continually being woven into my solitude, my experience of God. The Christ who is mocked is the crouching woman, the attraction of La Pens~e, the glorious center of the rose window. He is the reason for loving the questions and for being patient with the incompleteness of the answers. He is somewhere in the agony, the stolid acceptance, the chains and the resistance symbolized by the Burghers of Calais. At the same time he is in the beauty and achievement of ihe ensemble. My encounter with this reality brings me back to labor and struggle with the meaningless, the contradictions and the paradoxes. Again I am knock-ing on silence, waiting for being; above all, I am living in hope. ~Leonardo Boff, author of Jesus-Christ Liberateur, says that imagination is the creativity to see humankind become better and richer than the present cultural environment. The Call of Retirement: A Ministry of Elders Jeanne Schweickert, O.S.F. Sister Jeanne is Vice President of Ministry for the School Sisters of St. Francis. Her office is located at 1501 South Layton Blvd.; Milwaukee, Wl 53215. Over the past several years many old people have entered my life in new and powerful ways, the young old, the middle old, and the old old--and as they touched me I experienced the paradoxes of their lives: the hopeful expectations of some, the disillusionment of others; the longing for (he great past and the eager awaiting of death; the joyous celebration of life and the loneliness, fear and despair of day-after-day. It became more and more obvious that as the people I met approached old age, as they moved into retirement, they experienced traumatic mo-ments in their lives, moments that challenged their very personhood. Some time ago I decided to take council with some of the elderly sisters of my community. I invited them to get in touch with their own experience of retirement and share with me what they recalled happening inside them at that time. The following are a few of their comments: "Sometimes it feels like your personhood is diminished ." "I want to be seen first as a person, and then as a patient . " "Institutions make it difficult to be personal ." "You can't make decisions for yourself ." "I felt dethroned, becoming an observer rather than a participant . " "I was frightened of being a captive of the rocking chair and treated as a child kept busy with games and crafts . " "The real pain of not being active is that your opinion is never sought . " These are but a few of their comments; they are the more painful ones. 862 The Call of Retirement: A Ministry of Eiders / 1~63 However all of these perspectives reinforced for me again the perception of retirement as a time of moving away from something that had meaning rather than moving toward something significant in life. In his "Preface to a Practical Theology of Aging" Don S. Browning emphasizes that we must challenge both the idea that a person is only of worth or contributing when he is gainfully employed and the idea that the last stages of life should be a time of irrelevant comfort and preadolescent indulgence. Al

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

Issue 33.6 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review 1or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $I1.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review [or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor November 1974 Volume 33 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Roman Documents The following three documents have been recently issued by the Pope or by Roman Congregations. ExPuLSION FROM EXEMPT CLERICAL INSTITUTES Experience has shown that many difficulties and harmful delays can result from the judicial process which, in accordance with canons 654-668 of the Code of Canon Law, must be established when there is question of the expulsion of a male religious in perpetual vows, whether solemn or simple, from an exempt religious institute. The heads of such religious institutes have frequently requested a dis-pensation-- already granted to some religious institutes, on an experimental basis in accordance with the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae, II, 6--from the obligation of establishing such a process for the expulsion of religious. They have requested that instead they be allowed to adopt the adminis-trative procedure laid down in canons 648-653 for the expulsion of male religious who have taken perpetual vows in non-exempt clerical institutes or lay institutes. That procedure is recognized as being in keeping with the demands of justice, canonical equity, and respect for the person. Having taken everything into account, the members of this Sacred Con-gregation unanimously decided on the following in their plenary session of October 23-25, 1973: When there is question of expelling male religious with solemn vows or simple perpetual vows, the religious orders and exempt clerical congrega-tions referred to in canon 654 are to follow the procedure prescribed in canons 548-653 for the expulsion of male religious with perpetual vows in non-exempt clerical congregations. The undersigned Cardinal Prefect conveyed this decision to the Supreme 1249 1250 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 Pontiff, Paul VI, in an audience on November 16, 1973. He ratified the decision of the plenary session and ordered it to be confirmed and promul-gated. Therefore by means of this decree the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes publishes the decision. The decree comes into force at once, nor does it need a formula o~ execution. It will remain in force until the revised Code of Canon Law shall have been introduced. Notwith-standing anything to the contrary. Given at Rome, March 2, 1974. Arthur Tabera, Pre[ect Augustine Mayer, O.S.B., Secretary MOTU PROPRIO APOSTOLIC LETTER ON MASS STIPENDS It has been a strong tradition in the Church that the faithful, moved by a religious and ecclesial consciousness, should join a kind of self-sacrifice of their own to the Eucharistic sacrifice so as to share in the latter more effectively and should thereby provide for the needs of the Church, above all for the support of the Church's ministers. This practice is in harmony with the spirit of the Lord's words: "The laborer is worthy of his hire" (Lk 10:7) which the Apostle Paul recalls in the First Letter to Timothy (5: 18) and the First Letter to the Corinthians (9:7-14). In this way the faithful associate themselves more closely with Christ who offers Himself as victim, and accordingly they experience more abun-dant effects. Not only has the practice been approved by the Church, it has been fostered, because the Church considers it to be a sign of the union of the baptized person with Christ as well as of the union of the Christians with the priest who performs his ministry for the benefit of the faithful. To keep this understanding intact and to protect it from any possible error, appropriate regulations have been made in the course of the centuries. These have had the purpose that the worship which the faithful freely offer to God should in fact be celebrated with no lessening of observance and generosity. Because of particular circumstances of different periods and human social conditions, however, it sometimes becomes morally impossible --and thus less equitable--to satisfy in their entirety the obligations which have been sought and accepted. In such cases, therefore, the Church is com-pelled by necessity to make a suitable revision of the obligations while trying at the same time to be consistent in this matter and to keep faith with the donors. With the intention that the regulations for Mass stipends--a'matter cer-tainly serious and one demanding great prudence--should be established equitably, by means of a notification from the papal secretariat issued on November 29, 1971, (AAS, 63 [1971], 841), we decreed that all decisions concerning reductions, condonations, and commutations of Mass stipends Roman Documents should be temporarily reserved to us and we suspended, as of February 1, 1972, all faculties, no matter to whom or in what manner they had been granted. Now that the principal purposes of that regulation have been accom-plished, we judge that the time has come to terminate the reservation. In order to place the appropriate governance of this matter on new foundations and to prevent any incorrect interpretations, with reliance on lawful prece-dents of the past, it has seemed best to now abolish any of the earlier faculties which remain. Nevertheless, to satisfy somewhat the needs which our brothers in the episcopate must sometimes consider and in ~,iew of the experience of the use of faculties granted to them in the apostolic letter Pastorale munus (AAS, 56 [1964], 5-12) and De episcoporum muneribus (AAS, 58 [1966], 467-72) issued motu proprio, we think it expedient to grant certain faculties to those who share the pastoral ministry in the Church with us. Therefore, after mature consideration, upon our own initiative and in virtue of the fullness of our apostolic power, we establish and decree the following for the whole Church: I. From July 1, 1974, the above reservation, mentioned in the notifica-tion of the Secretariat of State on November 29, 1971, ceases. From the same day the sacred congregations of the Roman Curia are empowered to resume their competence in this matter, but accommodating its exercise to new, carefully defined regulations imposed upon them separately. Thus petitions which may be concerned with this matter are once again to be presented to those congregations. II. From the same day all faculties previously in effect concerning Mass stipends, however granted or acquired, are completely revoked. Therefore, the faculties of any physical or moral person cease, whether granted by us or our predecessors, including oral concessions, by the Roman Curia, or by any other authority; whether by force of privilege, indult, dispensation, or any other reason, including particular legislation; whether faculties ac-quired .by communication, custom, including particular, centenary, or im-memorial custom, prescription, or any other manner whatever. In view of this revocation, we decree that only the following faculties have force for the future: a) the faculties now conceded to the sacred congregations of the Roman Curia, mentioned in no. I; b) the faculties contained in the apostolic letter Pastorale munus and in the Index o[ Faculties which are regularly granted to local ordinaries and to pontifical legates; c) the new faculties granted to bishops in this apostolic letter, men-tioned below in no. III. III. From July 1, we grant the f~llowing faculties to the same persons 1252 / Review for Religious, l/olume 33, 1974/6 listed in the° apostolic~ letter Pastorale munus, under the same conditions established in that letter: a) the faculty to permit priests who binate or trinate in the diocese to apply the Masses for a stipend, which is to be given to the needs assigned by the diocesan bishop to apply the Masses according to intentions for which a condonation or reduction would otherwise have to be sought. This faculty is not extended to concelebrated Masses of bination treated in the declaration of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, August 7, 1972,, no. 3b (AAS, 64 [1972], 561-3), for which the reception of a stipend under any "title is prohibited; b) the faculty to reduce, by reason of diminished income, the obligation of cathedral or collegiate chapters to apply the daily conventual Mass for benefactors, with the exception of at least one conventual Mass each month; c) the faculty to transfer, for suitable cause, the obligations of Masses to days, churches, or altars different from those stipulated in the foundations. These regulations become effective on the first day of July. We order that everything decreed in this apostolic letter issued motu proprio be effective and ratified, anything to the contrary notwithstanding, including anything requiring very special mention. Given in Rome, at St. Peter's, on the Feast of Corpus Christi, June 13, 1974, the eleventh year of our pontificate. Paul VI VESTMENTS AT MASS Queries have come from many places asking whether it is lawful to celebrate Mass without the sacred vestments or with only the stole worn over the cassock or one's civilian clothes. These queries have been prompted for the most part by practical rea-sons, especially in cases of traveling, pilgrimages, excursions, and camping. But there have also been reasons of another k~nd, such as to fit in better with given surroundings--when, for example, chaplains of a factory cele-brate in overalls or when Mass is celebrated in Scout uniform for young mountain climbers. Hence the question has been submitted: What is the mind of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship on this point? The answer, neither difficult nor far to seek, cannot but be in conformity with what is laid down in the norms issued during these years of liturgical renewal. General Principles First of all, there are the General Principles of the Roman Missal. In number 297 it is stated: "The diversity of ministries in the carrying out of sacred worship is manifested externally by the diversity of sacred vestments, Roman Documents / 1253 which should therefore be a sign of the proper office of each minister." In the following number 298 we read: "The vestment common to all ministers of whatever rank is the alb"; and in number 299: "The vestment proper to the celebrating priest, at Mass and in other sacred functions directly con-nected with it, is the chasuble." These regulations, which echo tradition and renew it in particular matters, are in practice the basis of the norms laid down in the other docu-ments which touch upon the subject. For example, the Instruction on Masses for particular groups (no. 11 b) simply refers to the text from the Roman Missal cited above. The same is quoted by the Third Instruction (no. 8 c) which then adds: The abuse of wearing the stole over the monastic habit, the cassock, or civilian dress when concelebrating or celebrating Mass is (ondemned. Nor is it lawful to carry out other sacred functions, such as the imposition of hands during ordinations, or the administration of the sacraments, or the giving of blessings, while wearing only the stole over one's civilian dress. Norm Unchanged From this norm the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship has never deviated, nor does it intend to do so either in regulations of a general char-acter or in particular indults. And the reason for this is quite simple, as already indicated in the General Principles--the distinction of orders, the decorum of the sacred action, and the clear-cut separation of the sacred from the profane. The community wishes to be respected, and it wishes to perceive also by means of the senses, the meaning of the rites, and to be included in the mystery. Only one extenuation has been introduced to facilitate the use of sacred vestments when traveling and changing from place to place, and that is the use of the chasuble without the alb. This presupposes that it is a full circular chasuble, reaching to the ankles, and with stole worn over it. In this case it is possible to do without the alb. The chasuble may always be of the same color, while the color of the stole will change according to the liturgical color of the day. This sacred vestment, when folded, can easily fit into a small traveling bag. But its use is limited to cases of necessity and it should be authorized upon the request of the Episcopal Conference of the respective country. Its use is regulated by precise norms (see Notitiae, 1973, pp. 96ff.). St. Pius once wrote: "Let beauty attend your prayer!" On that occasion he was referring more particularly to the chant, but it is applicable to the entire setting of the celebratioi~. The sacred vestment is one of the more important elements, and at the same time it emphasizes the sacredness of the celebration. All the ritual elements established by the competent authority should 1254 / Review ]or Religious, l/ohtme 33, 1974/6 be observed and respected so that every communication of the community with God should take place, through its duly qualified ministers, in a halo of dignity and solemnity that transcends the too worldly practices of every-day life. Annibale Bugnini Titular Archbishop of Diocletiana Secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship Shared Prayer in Religious Communities Today Leonard Doohan Dr.Leonard Doohan writes from Ingersley Hall; Ingersley Road; Bollington; Mac-clesfield; Cheshire, England. A previous article by Dr. Doohan, "Apostolic Prayer," appeared in the July 1974 issue of Review ]or Religious, pages 785-9. The Spirit-inspired conciliar Church has presented all religious with five basic principles which ought to guide their continued developing growth in the spiritual life. They are: fidelity to the gospel, fidelity to the spirit of the institute to which the religious belongs, participation in the life of the Church, knowledge of the present world, and priority in conversion and in a deepening of the spiritual life. Each of these five spheres of life has focused more and more on the idea, so well developed by the Council (see AG 2,3; LG 9,1; GS 24,1i 32,1), that the person has the greatest possible growth within community. It is here within community, the Council says, that through a common effort in spiritual growth and development, the whole and each of the parts receives increase (see LG 13,3). Possibly, this idea of group growth is one of the great spiritual dimensions of the Council and reflection of postconciliar years. Moreover, no matter how mature individ-uals may be, there is still needed a painful and slow maturing and growth of the group's spiritual life. In any community's self-education to group growth, prayer in its various forms must have primacy. We hear.a great deal today about group discernment, community re-vision of life, assemblies, communication of life, chapters of renewal, forma-tion teams, community meetings, and the like; but if all these are not prayer experiences it is, I feel, really difficult for them to succeed as genuine steps in the development of the spiritual life of any group. All forms of prayer can lead to the development of the community's 1255 1256 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 spiritual life. The form I would like to consider is that form of group prayer technically known as "shared prayer." Possible Indications of Origins Shared prayer is now a commonly accepted form of prayer and it is quite unusual to find nowadays a reasonably sized group without at least some being in prayer groups or sharing prayer within their own communities. Christians have become increasingly aware that while prayer is the raising of the mind and heart to God, for too long insufficient care has been given to a consideration of the subject of prayer--man. The subject of prayer is a person who is intimately connected with others--they are part of man. He grows and develops with others, because of others, but in prayer he has often tried to be without others and therefore has remained stunted in spiritual growth. I feel that the view of the great St. Teresa is correct that all real spiritual development is paralleled by a growth in prayer, and I think we can see that much of our frustrated effort at group renewal has at least a partial answer in the weakness of growth in group prayer in its many forms. Many rejected shared prayer, or never gave it a chance, because it was just one of the "new things" introduced without real need. Perhaps it is more correct to acknowledge that it is not new but unfortunately has been out of use for too long and as a result we have suffered. In the Acts of the Apostles we see the importance given to group prayer whether in the ideal image of Christian living presented by Luke in Chapter 2 (42), or in the practical'circumstances of daily life--Pentecost, election of Matthias, choice of the seven deacons, mission of Barnabas and Paul. In some cases, undoubtedly, study indicates that the prayer sp6ken of by the author of Acts could be the repetition of psalm-type Jewish prayers or, in other cases, a developing liturgical prayer. However, .in some passages, as the election of Matthias (1, 24-5) and the group prayer after the apostles' release from the Sanhedrin (4, 24f.), we are very definitely dealing with a group gathering where prayer is spontaneously shared. In fact, a reading of the Acts more easily leaves one with the general impression of a spon-taneous prayer-sharing rather than an already newly-structured prayer form or a total, unchanged acceptance of a prior Jewish-structured prayer-form. Moreover, the detailed description by Paul of the Corinthians' prayer meetings (1 Cor cc. 12 and 14) certainly highlights the characteristic of spontaneity in sharing; and, although he feels the need to regulate this, he continually reaffirms its value. The attitude of the early Christians is understandable enough--they were simply imitating Jesus who spontaneously shared His prayer with His disciples. In Jesus' case, it is true that some of His prayers are repetitions of Jewish prayer forms and in other cases are prayers put into His mouth by the evangelists. However, even when these clear cases are excluded, the Shared Prayer in Religious Communities Today / 1257 general picture left is still one in which Jesus, when praying to His Father, allows others to share in these filial expressions of His faith, hope, and love. It was in a general context of group sharing on a revision of apostolic life that Jesus burst into spontaneous prayer: "I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever, and revealing them to mere children" (Lk 10:21). The spontaneity of sharing JPY in apostolic success is praised by Jesus who, by example, goes on to show His valuing of spontaneity in prayer expression. In a brief article it is not possible to go into too many details. I would, therefore, just like to express the personal view that, in reading the early Christian fathers and ascetics of the first centuries, I was very definitely left with the impression of considerable spontaneous group spiritual sharing. Purpose of Shared Prayer The aim of shared prayer, like all prayer, is to g!ve glory to God by our thanksgiving, praise, sorrow, adoration or recognition of our total de-pendence on Him. In shared prayer we give glory to God with one mind and heart and in one shared expression. In some ways this form is possibly more ecclesial---it is more visibly shown that it is the one Spirit in each giving life to the whole body of the faithful. It think it is important to keep this aim clearly in mind and never to approach shared prayer merely as a means of bringing a group together. Moreover, when the aim is clear this undoubtedly modifies the way in which we approach the shared prayer--when convinced that the aim is to give glory to God we will more easily direct our prayers to our Father rather than drop to personal reflections for the benefit of the group. Effects of Shared Prayer The result of shared prayer over a period of time is very definitely abundant blessing by the Lord. Anyone who has shared prayer over a period of time cannot but be amazed at a growth and enrichment far greater than the effort put into it. Since we are concerned with a form of group asceticism, it is natural enough that the effects of shared.prayer, on the whole, parallel the normal psychological dynamic of growth in any group. If .we considered the dynamic growth of a group in five major stages: 1. Convocation, 2. Phase of human relationships, 3. Period of maturing of the ideal of a group, 4. Period of consolidation, 5. Permanence or disappearance ot~ the group, we would find parallel stages of growth in the prayer group. Moreover, it would be quite unreasonable for anyone to expect in the early ph.ase of convocation the results that come only after time together, growth suffering--real asceticism --in the later stages of group growth. On the other hand, some prayer groups never really move beyond the second phase of group development 1258 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 and the result is a weekly, monotonous repetition of the same petitionary prayer in a friendly atmosphere. Moment of Convocation ¯ A group will come together (moment of convocation in group develop-ment) only if there already exists some mutual acceptance and common aspirations. The reason for setting up the group for shared prayer is gen-erally the same clearsightedness or deep awareness and realization that salvation consists in brotherhood--and the brotherhood is a praying-sharing community. The setting up of the prayer group demands deep faith con-viction regarding group growth and this vision must be shared by the group who already have a certain basic mutual acceptance and trust. If these prerequisites are not present, then it would seem a waste of time to attempt to set up a group for shared prayer; and it must be admitted that frequently, even within religious communities, there is too little faith and vision for the existence of group growth. Mariy communities are characterized by an individualism which guarantees the permanence of partial Christian spiritual growth. It must be said that many who dedicate themselves to community living seem unaware that this implies group growth. This preliminary step in group development---convocation has the effect of setting up the group for shared prayer. Period o4 Growth in Human Relationships There follows a pdriod of growth in human relationships within the group when in the prayer group the continued sharing of prayer leads to growth in self-acceptance, and in acceptance of and trust in others. The prayer becomes richer and more deeply shared--because I won't say things if I don't trust. Another direct effect at this stage is increased sensitivity to others, and to the presence of the Spirit in others. This leads to an experi-ential knowledge of who the Church is. It is important that the life of the prayer group be not just the moments of shared prayer, but rather be frequently enriched, at this stage, with various get-togethers of a social, even recreational, type. This can facilitate the development of trust, sensitivity, and mutual acceptance necessary for the development of group prayer life at this stage. However, it is important, during this time, to maintain the sharing principally on the level of faith-prayer- sharing and not allow it to become a mere socializing. Moreover, to improve the quality of the prayer, and the trust and sharing which are basic to it, the group, during this period in its own growth, could complement the shared prayer sessions with other periods of group discussion, revision of life, revision of prayer. Unfortunately, some groups just plod on week after week with a medi-ocre shared prayer and never pass through this second phase in the life of any group. Shared PrayerI"zn Religious Communities Today / 1259 At this stage, some within the group become dissatisfied with the quality of prayer life and leave. Some overemphasize the socializing dimensions and are not prepared to accept the demanding aspects of group asceticism and growth in shared prayer and they too leave the group. Tension results and this is the first main crisis in the prayer group's life. It can be overcome when the group searches to clarify the true direction of its prayer life together. Maturing the Group's Ideal A third phase in any group's psychological development is the period of maturing of the ideal of the group. Possibly, we could take a glance, for a similar situation, at the advice given by Paul to the Corinthians. Accord-ing to Paul, in all prayer meetings the group should emphasize that which exhorts, encourages, and builds up the community to the glory of God. These are effects that result from a qualitative improvement in the prayer life of the group at this stage. It becomes a period of increased mutual understanding, increased sensitivity to others, much deeper prayer sharing. At this stage, the group begins to understand the phases of spiritual life through which individuals in the group are passing, and when personal difficulties or "nights" in prayer come, the group can be supportive. I personally feel that it is only after a sufficient time has passed that in accepting, sharing, and making one's own another person's prayer we grad-ually totally accept that other person. Younger people in religious com-munities accepting older members completely, implicitly accept in them and through them the traditions of' an institute which otherwise they would probably never have absorbed so completely. This period is vital for the shared prayer of the group. It ought to be supported frequently by other meetings dedicated to revision of the group's shared prayer. I consider this point as the key to the qualitative develop-ment of the group's shared prayer--frequent group revision of the prayer. Period of Consolidation The period of consolidation is a moment of maturing in the group's development. For the prayer group it is the time when the quality of sharing in prayer opens the group to the total Christian vision of salvation in com-munity. Sharing becomes not only an attitude in prayer, but a life style. The members become profoundly convinced of being Church--being just parts of a total body which expresses itself in many ways. It is a period of real, though partial, realization of the original vision. It is also the period of openness to others outside the group. The group which came together for prayer finds now that the union achieved in sharing prayer is of sign value to the world, and the group now takes on increasingly the apostolic dimensions of witness to the union, sharing, and love which are of the 1260 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 essence of Christianity. The union, trust, and sharing developed in prayer are contagious and expansive. Naturally enough, any group that becomes exclusive or even develops a certain type of spiritual ghetto has not reached this stage at all; in fact it has probably not even reached the preliminary moment of convocation in faith. That such prayer groups exist is also undeniable. The Final Stage The final stage in the psychological development of a group is the mo-ment of growth, expansion, or division. This crisis is the result of fullness and indicates the moment when the group sharing prayer should divide in order to be able to open to more people. No group should ever be exclusive nor is it a healthy sign when it is always the same. Rather, the growth achieved through group sharing in faith and prayer must be communicated. The sharing in prayer leads to a sharing of life and this sharing of life must not be just for the group but a gift for others. I realize that reality is more complex than a scheme, and life richer than a list, but I feel too that it is important to know the dynamic growth through which a group passes, and know what this can lead to in spiritual sharing in prayer. I have here tried to use one of the simplest ways of view-ing this. The general effects of shared prayer are increased acceptance, deepened trust, mutual understanding, increased sensitivity; those within the group receive exhortation and encouragement. They are helped in expressing themselves in prayer and the general result is now as it was in Corinth--the building up of community. Forms of Shared Prayer We normally consider three forms of personal, individual prayer: vocal, meditative, and contemplative. I would suggest that, in group shared prayer, there are three parallel types. Ihdividual vocal or formula prayer has as its group manifestation shared spontaneous prayer in which the expressions of each one are unconnected but shared by the group. Personal individual meditative prayer is, in the group, paralleled by a shared meditation in which the discursive aspects of meditative prayer follow, not the developing thought of an individual, but the train of thought of the group--the group meditates as a single mind. The third form---contemplative--is found in its .group manifestation, in certain genuine pentecostal prayer sessions. The form of group prayer we are concerned with, and which is generally understood by the current title of "shared prayer," is the first kind--shared, spontaneous expressions of prayer. In this group prayer, it is normal to begin with a short period of silence, then of prayer to the Holy Spirit to illumine the minds and enkindle the hearts of the group--to come and pray in the group. This prayer is made by a definite leader who then opens the Shared Prayer in Religious Communities Today / 1261 session with a reading, preferably from Scripture. This is followed again with silence--a strong, reflective moment from which vocalized prayer springs. When people begin to pray in their hearts--expressing the senti-ments brought forth by the reading--these sentiments should be vocalized for the group, and each person in the group unites himself with the prayer expressed. The word "shared" does not refer to the fact that we all pool together our prayers, but rather it refers to the fact that all in the group share the sentiments of anyone who vocalizes his prayer. Therefore, it is possible for someone who never vocalizes prayer within the group to share the prayer of all the others. It is not necessary to speak to share prayer. It is necessary to unite oneself with the prayerful sentiments of another. The leader should have a definite time to bring the session to a con-clusion. Some Problems Met in Shared Prayer When a group is just starting, it is frequent to find that all the time allotted to the session is filled with prayers of request. This is natural enough and is normal in the development of individual prayer too. The group should not be worried or discouraged by this, provided that, eventually, the prayer begins to open to praise, glory, adoration, thanksgiving, and sorrow. Again, the group should be on its guard that the time for shared prayer is not too full. If one after another within the group expresses prayer without much silence, then there is probably little listening. I can't come in straight away with my prayer if I was really listening and uniting myself totally to the prayer of the previous speaker. Good shared prayer needs silence and listening. Some will say that shared prayer is not natural, they feel uneasy and self-conscious. This is undeniable. For some it seems very artificial. On the other hand, anyone who begins to meditate following an Ignatian or Sulpi-clan or Carmelite method will undoubtedly feel the same way. Moreover, just as it becomes easier in personal meditation once the method is mas-tered and forgotten, so too in group shared prayer. Others will become frustrated by the slow development of the prayer and claim that what they have is better. I can only say that shared prayer needs time to develop. There could be no enrichment in any sphere of ex-istence without the tediousness of the early stages. A difficulty, or definite danger, that needs to be avoided is the substi-tuting of a pseudo dialogue for shared prayer. In'a period of prayer, instead of praying, we try to tell each other something and, at times, subtly surface a rejection or problem we cannot otherwise openly speak about. This must be checked. At times, someone will pray and monopolize the time of the session with long-winded interventions. This, like the previous problem, is best dealt with through a periodic revision by the group of its own prayer. I 1262 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 repeat a point I have already emphasized--for me, personally, the key to shared prayer is the frequent revision of it. On such an occasion it would also be possible to recall to prayer those who may just drop to shared re-flection, because if it is shared prayer it should be kept at that level. Some people ask whether it is advisable to have a group for shared prayer within a religious community if not all the community wish to par-ticipate. I would think that, if shared prayer is a growth factor in building commui~ity, it should be used wherever there is a group. If the participants take care to avoid becoming a ghetto, keep people informed, always let it be seen to be open, then the rest of the community should have no cause to object. Finally, shared prayer is not a substitute for personal, private meditative or contemplative prayer. Anyone who uses it in that way indicates a lack of knowledge of the spiritual life, and a lack of correct perspective or re-lationship between individual and group growth. Shared prayer is an excellent form of group asceticism and leads to personal growth and the upbuilding of the community. It needs to be ap-proached with knowledge, guided by experienced members and continually open to revision, correction, and development. It is an indispensable ele-ment in group growth, but must be used with considerable flexibility--the pattern for one group is not necessarily that for another. As it develops and is used by more groups, the Christian will learn to move freely with others of common faith and be able to say with Paul: "I am longing to see you either to strengthen you by sharing a spiritual gift with you or, what is better, to find encouragement among you from our common faith" (Rm 1:11). In the Context of Discerning Sister Marie Beha Sister Marie Beha, O.S.C., is a member of the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Everything, everyone wants to grow: The desire is as universal as new grass springing up after early rains and warm sun. But growth is never any more predictable than the uneven development of an adolescent. We want to grow, but we can't make ourselves grow, nor can we control growth. All we can do is to further it or impede it. There are the laws both of nature and of spirit. What makes us grow must come from another: sun and truth to warm and enlighten us; food and love to nourish us. In terms of spiritual growth, it is pre-eminently God who enables us to grow and this He does with all the tenderness of His love. God desires that we grow and provides what we need for growth. Our part, and it is an essential part, is to collaborate with what is given to us, to co-operate with God's action in our lives. So a critical part of our life in the Lord is a.matter of discerning His unique call to us, of co-operating in becoming the person His creative love calls us to be. When we do, we grow; when we fail, we ourselves remain stunted and the coming of His kingdom is delayed. Granted that discernment is only one part of our growing. To know is effective only if we are willing to live out what we have learned. But it re-mains true that the first thing is to know, to discern. Paul speaks of "the mature who have their faculties trained by experi-ence to discern between good and evil" (Heb 5:14). And we might add, to discern not only what'is good and evil on the broad scale of things but to discover what is right for oneself, wrong for oneself, what is helpful at a particular time, what is impossible. In other words, discernment is not 1263 1264 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 so much concerned with the will of God in itself, but rather with the ways in which a particular person, in the concrete circumstances of everyday life, is drawn to respond to the Lord. As one matures, such deciding for oneself in terms of one's personal vocation becomes more and more necessary. General rules that apply to all have already been accepted and now must be passed beyond. What is uniquely personal must be" acknowledged and integrated into one's response. Such is the state of personal responsibility in which most Christians find themselves today as increasingly they must decide the specifics of their own life,~ relying less dependently on the laws of the Church. The present article hopes to deal with: (1) the context of discernment, the background within which discernment is operative; (2) some of the obstacles which prevent true discernment; and (3) conclude with some suggested criteria for discernment. Context of Discernment One of the most basic presuppositions of discernment is that it is an ongoing process, "ongoing" since discernment does not attempt to reach final answers which prescind from further need to discern. On the contrary, each discernment calls for yet another. It is like walking through a door, only to find still a further door to be opened, still another path to follow. Because of this, discernment is not just an exercise for a certain time of one's life, but rather something that must continue throughout life. If discernment has any seasons, these probably belong to the mature person, the one who has already incorporated into his life the general rules, the over-all direction and who must now make more specific application to his own life situation. So the focus continuously becomes more personal, more precise, more "vocational." Discernment is not only an ongoing necessity; in itself, it implies process. It does not reach infallible conclusions; it simply indicates courses of action which are clear enough to call for response. At this point, the focus of dis-cerning shifts from the original: Is this right, best? to How is'this effective in my life? What are its further implications? And the answers to these and similar questions may mean that the process has to be repeated. When this happens we need not feel that our first response was incorrect, a mistake. It may have been. But it may also have been simply a part of the process, the closing of a door that had to be opened and gone through before it could be honestly shut. If discernment, is process, then it takes time. How much time is some-thing that can only be determined in the very process. By this is meant that how much time a particular subject of discernment deserves is part of what must be decided within the context of discerning. If an issue seems of lesser importance, it may be the part of true discernment to spend only a minimal amount of time on it. But such a conclusion of triviality is already part of' In the Context o[ Discerning / 1265 the process, for what may b'e unimportant, in an objective sense, can be discerned to be critical in the context of an individual's life in the Lord; it can also assume increased importance at a specific moment of truth in an individual's life. Or the very raising of an issue of discernment may reveal that the time is not yet for this particular thing to be determined. Even though a decision would be helpful, efficient, even though other decisions may hinge on this one, there is nothing to do but wait for the right time to discern. One ot~ the surprises of discerning is the discovery that something which seemed to call for discernment has already been decided in the depths of one's own being. All the discernment process needs to do now is to reveal and so make explicit something that a person's life has already determined. In cases of important decisions that have to be made such a discovery of "it is finished" is delight and peace. In cases where reform and renewal are required, the discovery ot~ what has a!ready become vital is only the painful beginning of something that will require much labor. Discernment is not only process, it is a process most intimately, related to life. Its goal is life. In general, a positive discernment opens to life, to new life, to renewed life. It not only leads to fuller life; it is also something coming out of life. It comes, first of all, out of a life that is open to the Lord and His leading; and out of the reality of the individual's everyday. Dis-cernment is not theoretical, abstract, in the book; it is practical, specific, in the everyday. However, a caution is in order. Though daily life is one context of dis-cernment, it cannot be adhered to too narrowly, too pragmatically. Discern-ment can surface the unusual, the unexpected. It may seem to require an interruption, even an upheaval of the ordinary. But, I suspect, that when time has washed over the decision, even these unexpected developments, will be seen as congruent with the larger pattern of a person's life. And what appears to be an interruption proves, ultimately, to be only the surfacing of something that has been there all along. Continuity, even apparent discontinuity, needs to be tested against the reality of other people and of their lives. For the context of discernment is never solitary, just because our life in the Lord is never solitary. We stand before Him together and so the background for my discernment must be widened to include other persons with particular attention to those who are my neighbors. In some cases this may mean asking others for confirma-tion, suggestions, a different point of view. Even when such deliberate seek-ing out of others is not indicated, still the decision ot~ the individual must be viewed as part of love. Finally, the context of true discernment is always prayer, a life of prayer even more than specific prayer for he!p in each instance. Though an ex-pression of openness to God and desire to discern in the light of His truth is always right, still the most basic way in which prayer is part of the process 1266 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 is that it provides a continuing conscious relationship with God all through life. The more real this contact is for the individual, the more direct and simpie his process of discerning. For one who lives in the truth, discovers the truth almost intuitively. So vital is the part played by prayer in true discernment, that without it, discernment would be limited to a merely human weighing of pro's and con's, rather than responding to the specifics of God's call in one's life. Obstacles to Discernment What impedes the discernment process, even renders it invalid at times? The obstacles are as diverse and many-leveled as the reality of man him-self. On the physical level, we face as primary obstacles failures in timing and fatigue, to name a few. The former element of timing has already been suggested in the preceding discussion. Not only can we fail to discern be-cause we are impatient but also because we want too much too soon. So we are pre-disposed to seek what will flatter our ego and give us a sense of accomplishment. But in reality, we may be reasonably certain that the way in which we are going to come to God is not the way of egoism nor of still more total reliance on self. Fatigue, with its accompaniment of pseudo-discouragement, depression, and inability to get beyond the immediacy of our own inadequate state also clouds true discernment. Something as human and as simple as a good night's rest may open the way to greater truth. But such physical obstacles are relatively straightforward in comparison to the psychological difficulties which impede discernment. It even seems that the more refined the issues which must be discerned, the more subtle is the danger from blocks arising from the psyche of the discerner. Such blocks include any habits of thinking that make one less flexible, prejudices, any fixed patterns of behavior. For example, a pattern of thinking that the difficult is always the more perfect, a prejudice that rules out the pleasurable as somehow suspect impedes true discernment. Patterns of emotional re-action can also disturb and cloud one's response to what is truth in the Spirit. Anything that keeps us agitated, circling around self, critical of our brothers, angry with ourselves and with others becomes an impediment. Perhaps the most pervasive of these emotional blocks, though not the most apparent among them, is the presence of fear. Not conscious fear, with a reasonable objective basis, but the unreasoned fear, the subconscious terror that lurks in the dark. It is this kind of fear which inhibits true response, compelling us to react unreasonably. Such fear cripples freedom and so limits our presence to truth. It also projects a God, created out of its own unreality, destroying the possibility of a loving relationship with Him. Usually these emotional blocks are so deep seated and beyondconscious control that they can only be worked with when they are seen through the In the Context of Discerning / 1267 eyes of a more objective observer. Sometimes when they are surfaced and expressed to another just that much light dissipates them and true growth will go on from there. At other times, these fears must be acted against, strongly but gently, until counter patterns can be set up. How strongly, how quickly, will be part of the discernment process. At least they must not be allowed to blind the discerner, crippling the whole process. The spiritual obstacle to truth in the discernment process is sin, not only the sinful acts themselves but also all the tangled roots of selfishness, greed, lust, bitterness, jealousy that somehow enslave us and keep us at a certain distance from the truth of the Spirit who would make us free. It is a critical part of the process to expose these roots, to open them up to the hearing power of the Father's love. The more we have deepened these tendencies by our concrete actions, the more they will influence our discern-ment coloring it with their own distorted lens. As.a beginning to their ex-tirpation, such sins can be acknowledged and so be made less influential. At best, they can be diminished by our counter efforts and, far more, by the saving power of Jesus which we ask for in the effort to discern honestly. Criteria for Discernment The criteria for discernment are not objective standards with universal applicability but are themselves matter for discernment. Which criteria apply here, which are especially revealing, what is" the meaning of a par-ticular criterion, all these questions must be included in the process itself. With this in mind, we can state a few standards which can serve to stimulate and guide the process, preventing it, perhaps, from becoming too subjective. First of all, discernment aims at uncovering truth, personal truth, and so it must be rooted in truth. ~This means it must be concerned with the real, the practical, the possible in our lives. What is patently impossible can never be the call of God; what is very difficult may be. This difference is what must be discerned and then tested in the concrete of an individual's life. To aid in such testing, one can ask, does this particular "spirit" under-line what is human in me; does it strengthen what is healthy about my personality, rather than reenforce some tendency that is already unhealthy. In other words, does it strengthen my defense reactions or does it result in a lowering of my defenses, even though such an opening of myself may leave me painfully exposed at first. Discernment in truth raises such questions as: Where am I able to be most myself? What course of action grows out of my experience of self and calls forth my best self? Paradoxically enough, such a discernment of what is best for myself, will result in a capacity to forget about self. It will broaden from the truth of self to the larger and truer understanding of self- 1268 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 for-others. When this happens there need be no further hesitation; the truth of discernment is setting the self free. And freedom is a second criterion for discernment, for discernment can only arrive at the truth when it begins in freedom. The very initiation of the process must be a matter of the individual's free choice. If a person feels compelled to make adecisi0n, to come up with an answer, even when he realizes that the time has not yet come for working with this particular question, then the whole process can be set on a wrong course. In contrast, when the discernment begins in freedom, it ends by making the person more free. This is so true, that the experience of freedom gives some indication of a valid discernment. I say some indication because this experience of freedom may become apparent only after a painful period of struggle to integrate the newly discerned truth into one's life. This struggle may even be accompanied by a certain "compulsion" that is expressed in something like, "I must work with this now." This uncomfortable awareness that "now is the time" comes from within, however, and not from some external pres-sure, nor from a compulsion based on fear. When the individual can accept personal responsibility for what he feels "compelled" to do, then he can proceed in security and freedom. Freedom, as it is being used here, is almost synonymous with capacity to respond. The responsible man knows the reality of his own situation; he realizes and takes into account the needs of others and in doing this is free to answer "yes" with Christ to the Father. He is aware of the cost of his discipleship and willing to assume responsibility for it. In all of this he is free to discern and is being made freer in the very process. A third important standard for valid discernment is the criterion of unity. Can the particular result of this discerning be integrated into my life as an individual; does it serve to further unify and bring together the pieces of my life. When this is true, the new piece fits the pattern of my life and gives me a sense of comfort and ease. Such comfort and ease, however, may not be immediately apparent. Like a pair of new shoes, an unfamiliar truth or unaccustomed way of acting may take some breaking in, some getting used to but ultimately it should make the individual whole. Another way in which unity tests discernment is in terms of the com-munity. What will this course of action mean for others? Is it respectful of different gifts, of the complementarity of gifts? Again, this criterion must not be applied too readily. What may seem at first to be disruptive, what causes trouble to the community, may ultimately be for its peace. Perhaps this aspect of unity in community may best be tested in the willingness of the individual to consider the needs of others as part of his own discerning. Some of the differences between what is best for the individual and what is best for the community can be dealt with in terms of the gospel to which all are called. Does a particular object of discernment fit in with the message of Jesus in the gospel? Is it Christological? Paschal, involving both death In the Context of Discerning / 1269 and resurrection? When this is true it will bring peace to the individual and to the community. Not the peace of feeling that all is well but the peace of knowing that one is growing toward union with God. A fourth criterion of a discernment that is free, true, and unifying is the presence of a certain note of fidelity. First of all, the process must be faith-ful to the conditions for true discernment which have already been suggested. When these conditions are not met, when obstacles are not worked with, dishonesty eats holes in the foundation and the whole building begins to sink. In addition, fidelity, itself, is seen as open loyalty, coming out of a past and pointing ahead to a future. It must be consistent with the past of a person's life, unifying and giving a new meaning to what has gone before. This is so true that what has the elements of the new and unexpected to the casual observer will seem familiar and somehow right to the discern~r. Because true discernment comes out of a past it will often be characterized by a certain element of persistence. God's call to us has a way of repeating itself with growing insistency till we respond a "Here I am." But in the answering we come to recognize the call as something we have known, about for a long time, more or less consciously. Such recognition is, itself, an indication of a valid discernment. So truth in discernment is bound up with fidelity to one's past. But fidelity which only looks backward walks blindly in terms of the future. True fidelity has an element of openness which allows the individual to be moved ahead by the Spirit of God. In .practice what is discerned as right may not be equated with what is predictable. The Spirit blows where He will and this element of the unexpected is another assurance of His presence and His action. But the unexpected of God is not just the arbitrary. Quite often what we ourselves never expected, never dreamed of, is rather ob-vious to others; it may also become apparent to the individual once it has surfaced. In this case the surprise of the Spirit is welcomed with recogni-tion. Two other criteria for discernment are more specifically related to voca-tional discernment and its implications in the everyday of Christian life; these are the criteria of service and of prayer. When a directional force in life is to be discerned, or a particular course of action determined upon, a rather clear criterion is the question: Does this enable me to serve better? Does it allow me to become more aware of others, more open to their in-dividuality? Does it make me more compassionate? For one over-all direc-tion of life that must always be included in specific discernment is love. And in the Christian context love is spelled out as service so the where and the when and the how of my best service are always relevant evaluators. In a comparable way, prayer is both a means to discernment and a criterion for it. As m6ans to discernment, prayer calls for the most radical kind of openness before the Lord, a begging with one's whole being for 1270 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 His light and His direction. It requires more honesty than we can summon out of ourselves; it calls for the truth that is the Spirit of Truth. If our prayer is an occasion for spinning illusions about God and about ourselves, then we are not really praying. For prayer deals in revelation, not always the bright light of beautiful religious truth, but often the darkness of our need to be redeemed. Prayer makes demands: that we wait for the Lord; that we remain open; that we change; that we begin every day, new in hope. Prayer that begins with a sincere desire for the Spirit of Truth will form the background for the most searching of discernments. But in addition to providing context, prayer also helps in the process itself. Of a specific object of inquiry it asks, is this something I can comfortably take before the Lord? Will it stand testing in the light of exposure to His presence? Even to ask the question is sometimes to arrive at an answer. In terms of times and circumstances of one's life, the question can be phrased, Where and when is my prayer most real? Where does God attract me? Where am 1 most able to be present to Him? What have been theprivileged moments of my re-lationship with Him? These are questions for individual discernment, not matters for general application of pious principles. The question of where I am able to be most myself before the Lord and, more importantly, of where He can best reveal Himself to me are as uniquely individual as the core of my being. They can only be answered in the context of my life and its development. In all of these ways, through prayer and service, through fidelity to past and future; through a deeper integration of truth into our own lives and of our lives into the life of Christ; through doing the truth in freedom we finally come closer to that unique perfection to which God calls us as persons. In our own way and time we grow into that "wisdom which comes down from above which is essentially pure; which also makes for peace and is kindly and considerate; it is full of compassion and shows itself by doing good, nor is there any trace of partiality or hypocrisy in it" (James 3:17-8). Discernment of,Spirits in the Choice of Ministry: A Sociological View Leo F. Fay Dr. Leo F. Fay is the chairman of the Department of Sociology; Fairfield University; North Benson Road; Fairfield, Connecticut 06430. Introduction While the discernment of spirits as an aid to the. discovery of the will of God has a history that antedates even the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola, it has become a critical issue for religious only in more recent years. Prior to the post-Vatican renewals of religious life, discernment in the major decisions of a religious' life was made through submission to the will of superiors. As that traditional notion of discernment through obedience to authority has become deemphasized, the question of how individuals and groups of religious should make decisions has been receiving more and more attention. Most of that attention has been theological. Articles and treatises have been written on the how, when, and why of discernment, but usually from the theoretical and normative stance of the theologian. The present article is an attempt to broaden the discussion of discernment, especially as it relates to the choice of ministry, by injecting the empirical and descriptive viewpoint of the sociologist. One of the assumptions behind this effort is that theological reflection on religious life and behavior can have disastrous consequences if it is not formed by a sociological analysis of the .empirical realities of religious life and behavior. Often, for example, theological efforts at renewal will quite correctly assume that a particular form or practice traditional in religious life has come intrinsically meaningless and outmoded. It may be, however, that such a practice has definite, if latent, social functions which are crucial 1271 1272 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 to the very existence of religious life and must be satisfied in another way. Three questions will be examined in this article: 1. What is the actual process of discernment in the choice of ministry? In other words, in what context; or under what circumstances, or in what setting does the contemporary religious make her choice-of-ministry deci-sions? 2. What is the content of discernment in the choice of ministry? In other words, what sort of considerations and motivations are religious in fact using in making those decisions? 3. What are the major problems with these trends, from a sociological point of view, for religious life and communities, and what directions might prove fruitful in the search for solutions? The Source of the Data The data for this article were collected from questionnaires distributed to 442 sisters of one of the American provinces of an international institute. 396 sisters (88%) returned questionnaires in this study of personnel plans and attitudes. The parts of the questionnaire that are of special relevance to our concerns here are two: a question designed to find out how the sisters themselves perceive and describe their own process of discernment when they are faced with a choice-of-ministry decision; and the reasons they give for choosing (or preferring) a particular ministry. The Process of Discernment The question of the sisters' perception of how they actually go about deciding on a choice of ministry listed thirteen alternatives for the respon-dents to choose among in describing their own discernment process, and left a fourteenth space blank ("other") in case they wished to express another possibility. Six of these alternative responses were authority-related: they included the bishops of the Church, the general chapter, the superior general, the provincial, provincial administrators, and local superiors. Four of the questionnaire items were personal (namely: "my own conscience," "my own reasoning and thought processes," "various kinds of reading," and "my own feelings and emotions';), and three were social (namely: "historical events and social conditions," "communication with other sisters," and "communication with the people I serve"). The results are very clear. The sisters' description of how they go about discernment in the chbice of their ministry is a description of an overwhelmingly personal process. The social context is a very poor second, and obedience to superiors is on the bottom of the list. The sisters were asked to rank the thirteen (or fourteen) items in order of importance to them personally in their own discernment activities. When we look at their first choices, we See that272 sisters (69.6%) base their discernment of God's will on processes that are basically personal, isolated, Discernment of Spirits in the Choice of Ministry / 1273 an individualistic. Forty-six sisters (11.6%) focus on social processes, and 14 sisters (3.5%) use authority-related processes. If we look, not just at first choices, but at the sisters' first three choices, the same general pattern persists, except that both authority-related and social processes do a little better. Out of 1188 responses (396 sisters × 3 choices) 7.9% are authority-related, 26.2% are social, and 53.5% are personal. The Content of Discernment The sisters who responded to the survey were asked to name specifically the ministry they expected realistically to be engaged in twenty months later, the ministry they would ideally prefer to be engaged in at that time, and the reasons for each of these choices. The questions on their reasons listed twelve items as possible answers and left the thirteenth space ("other") for expressing still another reason. Three of the alternative responses can be described as work-oriented (namely: "I f~el that position would make best use of my training," "I like that type of work," and "I am ready for another career"); three can be described as personal (namely: "my health makes it the best clioice for me," "I feel obligated by family circumstances to choose that position," and "I don't feel ready to undertake a move at this time"); three are situational (namely: "I would like to retire," "I like the living situation that goes with that position," and "I like the kind if clientele I would be serving in that position"), and three are congregational (namely: "I want to work with a group of sisters of this congregation," "I feel per-sonal loyalty to the position as a commitment of this congregation," and "I feel it is my duty to the congregation to fill that position"). The differences between the reasons the sisters gave for their choices indicate that the content of their discernment is overwhelmingly work-oriented. Looking at the sisters' first reasons only, we see that 37.2% named one of the work-oriented reasons first, 18.6% named congregational reasons, 12.4% had situational reasons, and 6.9% had personal reasons. If we con-sider the sisters' first three reasons for their projections and preferences, we find that 33.7% of the reasons given were work-oriented, 18.8% were sit-uational, 15% were congregational, and 5.7% were personal. Problems Arising from the Data From a sociological point of view, the data on the process of discern-ment in choice of ministry do not bode well for the viability of religious community. It might be serious merely to have discovered that obedience to a common authority is no longer of major importance in determining what the members of a religious community do with their lives. What is more serious is the discovery that the religious perceive the process they go through as so thoroughly personal, isolated, and individualistic. Serious 1274 / Review ]or Religious,' Volume 33, 1974/6 questions are suggested by these findings for both the community and the individual religious. From the point of view of the community (house, province, or entire congregation), the questions center on planning and even survival. What does it mean for any organization, religious or not, if the individual members see themselves as isolated and alone when it comes to deciding what to do with their lives, how to behave from day to day, and what their aspirations are? I am not referring here to the matter of obedience to authority; I am referring primarily to the fact that the religious do not see themselves as making decisions in response to their fellow religious, to the people whom they are sent to serve, or to the historical and social conditions of the world they are called to serve. From the point of view of the individual religious, the questions are of a more psychological nature. They come down to the difficulty of working out a meaning for the life she is leading. Traditional religious life, with its customs, rule, obedience, and so forth, did have advantage of a very clear meaning for most of its adherents most of the time. As these traditions have changed in response to the new respect for the person and for individual responsibility, the clarity of the meaning of religious life for the individual has been clouded. Now each religious is in the position of having to inte-grate into a coherent meaning system the apparently contradictory styles of corporatism and personalism, of commitment and freedom, of choice of ministry and responsible group membership. That integration is not easy. By contrast, the data on the content of the religious discernment in the choice of ministry seem much less problematic. The high degree of emphasis placed on work-oriented considerations suggests a professionalism that an outsider can only admire. Likewise, there is a solid (though much smaller) group that giv~es primary consideration to the needs and responsibilities of the religious institute. However, the strong emphasis on work, which suggests professionalism, does reinforce the problems already mentioned. Professional attitudes have consistently been found to be correlated with the need for personal auton-omy and independence; and whenever the latter qualities are found in any kind of corporate organization, they aggravate the tension between the needs of the organization and those of its individual members. Suggestions for Solutions It may very well be that, for those institutes which have established it, choice of ministry was an organizational mistake. Nevertheless, it seems to be firmly entrenched and destined to spread, so solutions to the problems of corporate unity and individual meaning must be found that are com-patible with it. I suggest that there are two general directions in which partial solutions may be found. The first direction goes to the process of discernment and concerns its Discernment o[ Spirits in the Choice of Ministry / 1275 formalization. The clear evidence that religious perceive their own discern-ment procedures to be isolated and individualistic suggests the need for instituting relatively formal and structured social procedures to be made available to all individual religious who are faced with a choice-of-ministry decision. These procedures should involve the participation of a variety of other persons: perhaps a few representatives of the province or congrega-tion, representatives of the ministries the individual is considering and of the one she is leaving, and a few close friends. If the individual should elect to go through such a formal procedure with a group like that, it would widen the perspecti~'e from which she views her choice and would lessen the isolation she feels in making it. The second direction goes to the content of discernment and concerns the introduction of a broader scope of factors to be considered in making choices. Since the evidence we have suggests a high degree of profession-alism which will likely be accompanied by increasing independence from the institute, a partial solution lies in keeping considerations of the institute's needs and responsibilities in the individual's consciousness. One practical way of doing that is the mechanism of communications from particular houses or works to the whole province or institute. Province newsletters, helpful as they are in many other respects, cannot satisfy this point: local communities and groups themselves must do the communicating. Further, these communications should avoid at all costs being theoretical, propa-gandistic, or complex, and should strive instead to be concrete and anecdotal, newsy, personal, and simple. Both these suggested solutions, of course, derive from the same funda-mental truth of social organization: as any group undergoes change in its traditional way of life, the greatest danger it faces is disunity and conse-quent disintegration. To avoid that, deliberate, even self-conscious steps must be taken to make concrete and real in the lives of individual members their membership in a corporate group. On Praying and Being Human: Reflections on the Anthropological Value of Prayer Eric Doyle, O.F.M. Father Eric Doyle, O.F.M., is a member, of the faculty of the Franciscan Study Cen-tre; University of Kent; Canterbury, Kent CT2 7NA; England. Introduction This article contains reflections on the activity we call prayer in terms of its anthropological value. Such an approach is possible because of the prior anthropological character of revelation, faith, and theology. Since there are two key concepts involved in these reflections, namely, anthropology and prayer, the articl~ has been divided into two major parts. The reason for presenting these reflections in a review intended principally for religious will be clear from the content of the first part of the article. I Christology and Anlhropology The Christological doctrine of the Church, if correctly understood, is the most radical and authentic anthropology the world has ever known. In the historical event which is the life, death, and glorification of the Man, Jesus of Nazareth, the Church has the source and center of everything that she knows and can ever know about God and man. Because He is the Incarnate Son of the Eternal God, Jesus of Nazareth discloses to us in the very reality of His own humanity who God is, what God is like; and this is expressed in its most original form by the words "Father" and "Forgiving Love." In the same way He reveals what it means to be man: the being in the world who is called in the innermost depths of his historical existence 1276 On Praying and Being Human / 1277 to surrender himself unconditionally to the will of God, as to his destiny, in faith, hope, and love. This is not to argue that the Church has nothing to learn about man from the historical, positive, and natural sciences or that she can ignore the teachings of psychology, psychotherapy, and sociology. What we are asserting here is that the Church has a point of reference for all that can be known about man and that point of reference is Christ who allows her to grasp the ultimate depth of meaning of anything that may be discovered about man. From this source and center there is one truth which the Church knows with infallible certitude, the truth namely, that God Himself is the guarantee of man's humanity. To surrender oneself to God is to arrive at one's own unique humanity. The process of growth in the relationship with God--a relationship established by grace which div-inizes and therefore humanizes man in his historical existence--is a process of drawing ever closer to the Origin of humanity itself and thus of becoming more authentically human. When the Church speaks of God, in virtue of the very word she utters, she says something about man; when she speaks of man in the light of the grace she has received in her Savior and Lord, she proclaims also a word about God. The Church's Doctrine of Man This essentially anthropological and authentically human orientation of the word she proclaims is the primary reason why the Church has a right to address herself to the world of today and to the men of our time. Above all, it is the foundation of her right to establish educational institutes of every kind and at every level--primary, secondary, and tertiary and of the right to present herself ready before the authorities of State and religiously "neutral" universities and other higher institutes of education, to form theo-logical faculties. She possesses a doctrine about man which has the courage to speak about his multi-dimensional nature and this doctrine is worthy of a hearing wherever and whenever men come together to pool their re-sources in order to grapple with the question of what it means to be human. It is true, of course, that this anthropological character of her word, her faith, and her theology has not always been apparent. Moreover, many people share the conviction that believers in God and especially theologians, are desperately concerned with some ideal world far removed from the stark realities of day-to-day life. Indeed, one still stumbles across the vulgar prejudice that theologians as a breed pass their time hairsplitting and jug-gling with ideas, oblivious of the world going on around them and even indifferent to its concerns. How far this idea corresponds to reality is, I suppose, a matter for some debate. In any case that it is now a figment of misinformed minds and has been for a good number of years will be obvious to anyone familiar with the development of theology in our times. It is incumbent upon us all who believe in the universality of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ who is Lord, to do all in our power to dispel these 1278 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 false notions and gross misunderstandings by the quality of our lives, the extent of our concerns, and the intellectual honesty, rigor, integrity, and high calibre of our theology. Christian Anthropology and Dialogue with the World The radically historical character of the Church's faith, in virtue of which she constantly returns to the life of the Man, Jesus of Nazareth, formally distinguishes the content of the Christian Gospel from all mytho-logical worldviews and explanations of the meaning of man. The doctrine of the historical incarnation of the Son must have a paramount place in all dialogue with atheists, anonymous Christians, and implicit believers. If we prescind for the moment from the source of the Church's belief in this doctrine, namely the gratuitous love of the Immortal God for mankind and concentrate on the content of the assertion as de facto held by com.- mitted Christian believers, we can make it our point of departure in the dialogue that we for our part are paying the highest possible tribute to .human dignity. The content of this assertion is that the being whom the human race calls God, the Supreme Being, is held to be present to and united with this Man who lived out a human life like other men and who reached His destiny in total fidelity to His own humanity and this in such a way that His humanity was not impaired or in any way abolished, but on the contrary.was radically realized as itself in its own true and authentic nature. The implications of this assertion for an understanding of man demand analysis precisely because of the influence that the content of this assertion has on the lives, outlook, and activity of a significant number of people today who own the name Christian, because of the history of the Church's understanding of this assertion, and because it is an essential ele-ment of the assertion that Jesus is most truly a man. The assertion cannot be dismissed simply by the shabby argument of "projectionism" firstly be-cause of the historically conditioned existence of this man and secondly because the assertion holds in its dialectic that by the vei'y fact that God is here, Jesus of Nazareth is the realization of what it means to be human. Revelation and Christological Anthropology This anthropological orientation of Christology must have priority also among Christian believers. This is the case not only that they may be able to present an intelligible account of the meaning of their faith to a largely sceptical and unbelieving world, but because it is part of the revelation itself. God's word and His grace are the foundation of authentic and integral hu-manity so that without Him we cannot be truly human at all. The anthro-pological orientation of Christology, therefgre, is in no way a betrayal of the specifically supernatural character of Christian revelation nor can it be suspected of reducing this revelation to a subtle form of humanism. Theo-logical science is not committed to answering riddles or solving problems in On Praying and Being Human / 1279 the manner of the positive and natural sciences. Its purpose in every age is to strive to understand man as he is and as he is becoming, in his finitude and openness as the being made in the image of God and called by God to share the divine life. This is an ongoing process which is always new and never exhausted. No matter howmuch more knowledge may be accumulated by man in the future, no matter how many more secrets may be wrested from nature, man will be always the being in history who is open to God and capable of receiving the treasures of divine grace. This would still be the case even in the condition of the world where the vast majority of mankind had ceased to have any belief in God at all. Leaving aside what might be said about such a state of affairs from a purely phenomenological standpoint, we would still have to proclaim that we have Christ's word in hope that He will be with us to the end. Though this word gives no guarantee about numerical quantity--and at present it does seem that the number of explicit believers is growing less--it is the sure basis that the Church will not disappear from the face of the earth and that the remnant will remain on behalf of the nations. Renewal in lhe Church What is written in these pages about prayer applies to every Christian believer and, for that matter, to any man who prays, as distinct from some-one who merely uses a method or follows a system in order to arrive at inner equilibrium. My reflections, however, are addressed specifically to religious in the Church and this for a number of important reasons. It is my belief that the renewal of the religious life is only now beginning to move out of its-preparatory stages. This is also true of the Church in general. The last ten years since the final session of the Second Vatican Council have been a time of re-assessment, of preparing the ground, of hammering out principles, and of establishing priorities. Much has been achieved, but there is quite an amount left to be done. Let us take one example: developments in ecclesiology. The Church has come to a deeper awareness of her own nature as a community of believers in the world. This community is founded on the gift of God's grace of unity which is logically prior to its every expression in faith, worship, life, and order. This awareness of the Church's nature as a community has had repercussions in every area of the Church's life. It has raised questions at the practical level which are by no means yet answered. For example: What do we mean by "community" when applied to the Church in general and when we use it of a local group in the Church? What is the relationship between a territorial parish as realized at present and the theology of the local community in terms of a constantly shifting population? How does liturgical celebration reflect and foster the presence of community? Should diocesan priests be scattered over a multiplicity of parishes in a town or area of a city where they are compelled to live alone or in groups of no more than two or three or should they work to establish 1280 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 a form of community life that is specifically priestly and not just a limp copy of religious life? If they were to live a much more realistic community life, how would they serve and retain contact with the people of those areas where once a priest was resident? What are the consequences for eschatology of this awareness of the Church as community? In what sense is "heaven" heaven before the Parousia of Christ? What is the relationship between a local parochial community and the community of a religious order in the parish? These are some of the questions that require us to reflect again on what may have appeared to us once as unchangeable structures and beliefs. A similar list might be drawn up with direct reference to the religious life. Enough has been said, however, to demonstrate that we ought not to allow ourselves to be lulled into thinking that the renewal is achieved and that we can now slacken our efforts. Religious and Spiritual Direction Religious life, as I have said elsewhere in this Review,1 is an indispens-able (not to say essentia!!) element in the life of the Church. If I read the signs of the times aright, then it seems to me that in the future members of religious order and congregations of men and women (I prescind here al-together from the question of the ordination of women, though it is by no means irrelevant to the point under discussion) are destined in the provi-dence of God to assume an ever greater if not the maximum responsibility for spiritual direction. This will be one of the finest fruits of the renewal of the religious life in the Church. It is already the case that people approach religious (and let us admit it quite simply and candidly that they approach us precisely as religious, that is, as those in the Church who publicly profess the evangelical counsels, however unthematic and even hazy their expression of this may be) with their questions or problems or mysteries and they rightly expect us to bring a spiritual dimension into the situation they present to us. They have the right to expect this of us for the simple reason that we are presumed to know something about the workings of divine grace in human life. After all, we have behind us the years we have spent in religious life with all the experiences of reflection and prayer that these years have provided--and we must not forget that it is the Church and God's grace, more than ourselves, that have made this possible. Moreover, we were called by God to the religious life for the sake of the Church. Psychotherapy and Spiritual Direction In emphasizing the importance of spiritual direction I am not denying nor even playing down the place of psychotherapy. Carl Jung has furnished us with more than enough evidence of how dangerous and uninformed such aErie Doyle, O.F.M., "Reflections on the Theology of Religious Life," Review ]or Re-ligious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 1258-60. On Praying and Being Human / 1281 an outlook is. Indeed, every religious, but especially those engaged in any form of apostolic work ought to read his profound and, in some ways, disturbing'essay, "Psychotherapists or the Clergy." Much of what he has to say about the attitude of the doctor may be applied without qualification to spiritual directors. One passage will suffice to demonstrate this. Speaking of the requirements in a doctor who wants to offer guidance to another he writes: We can get in touch with another person only by an attitude of unprejudiced objectivity . It is a human quality--a kind of deep respect for facts and events and for the person who suffers from them--a respect for the secret of such a human life. The truly religious person has this attitude. He knows that God has brought all sorts of strange and inconceivable things to pass, and seeks in the most curious ways to enter a man's heart. He therefore senses in everything the unseen presence of the divine will. This is what I mean by "unprejudiced objectivity." It is a moral achievement on the part of the doc-tor, who ought not to let himself be repelled by illness and corruption. We cannot change anything unless we accept it. Condemnation does not liberate, it oppresses. 1 am the oppressor of the person I condemn, not his friend and fellow-sufferer. I do not in the least mean to say that we must never pass judgment in the cases of persons whom we desire to help and improve. But if the doctor wishes to help a human being he must be able to accept him as he is. And he can do this in reality only when he has already seen and accepted himself as he is.'-' These words reminded me of a passage in the Rule of St. Francis of Assisi which, for all practical purposes, says exactly the same: "And they [the Ministers] must take care not to be angry or agitated on account of anyone's sin because anger and agitatiofi hinder charity in themselves and in others.":' The spirit and the psyche are intimately connected and any religious who bears the responsibility now or will do so in years to come would be well advised to acquire a basic knowledge of the principles and methods of psychotherapy. What I am anxious to stress in this context, however, is that spiritual direction exists in its own right and to imagine that it can be simply replaced by psychotherapy is patent nonsense. It would be as foolish to reduce spiritual direction to psychotherapy as it would be to hold that a glandular extract will cure a neurosis." New Forms of Prayer The new forms of community prayer, the sharing of experiences of God, the openness and sympathy in communicating joys and sorrows, emptiness '-'C. G. Jung, "Psychotherapists or the Clergy," in Modern Man in Search o] a Soul, trs. by W. S. Dell and Cary F. Baynes (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1933), pp. 234-5. aRule o] St. Francis, Chapter 5. 4See Jung "'Psychotherapists," pp. 223-3. 1282 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 and fullness, darkness and light experienced in the spiritual life are also providential in regard to this matter of religious and spiritual direction. It is a well-known fact that religious, especially in the United States df America and, to a much lesser extent, elsewhere, are leaders in these new forms of common prayer and this highly desirable openness in sharing with others one's experiences of God. All this has served to bring home to many religious the fundamental reason why they came to religious life, namely, to love and praise the Living God, His Son, and the Holy Spirit and to love and serve the brethren of that Son throughout their entire lives. The actual sharing of these experiences .teaches, as no book can, how God intervenes in a person's life, how His blessed grace renews people in the hidden depths of their being, how the Holy Spirit of God guides and enlightens people in the midst of the most humdrum and monotonous daily lives. I know from my own experience that listening to another person speaking about God's presence in daily life can actually become an experience of thd presence of God for the listener. Religious and Theological Formation The mushroom growth in the numbers of religious who are pursuing theological studies is also providential and here again the United States has the lead. So many of these religious are involved in education and formation at various levels and there are many of these who belong to the Charismatic Renewal Movement. One must be careful, therefore, not to brand this Movement generally as anti-intellectual. Of course the beast of anti-intellectualism shows its ugly head periodically in the history of the Church and these are areas where it is raising its head at the moment. Experience itself teaches unequivocally, however, that a solid theological formation is an essential requisite for spiritual direction. Indeed, ! would go so far as to say as a general rule, that without a protracted period of theological formation no one should dare to assume the responsibility of spiritual direction at all. By theological formation I mean a formation that is firmly rooted in the Church's tradition of theological reflection and not confused with "fashion-theology" which arrogates to itself the titles "exis-tential" and "personal," shifts its point of reference with every "new" issue and is as ephemeral as it is superficial. This awareness among so many religious of the necessity of a theological formation is born of the sound intuition that pietism, fundamentalism, emotionalism, and comforting plati-tudes just will not suffice for the apostolate of spiritual direction. All theo-logical endeavor is subservient to the faith and the Word of God and can never be an end in itself. In accord with the signs of the times, as they appear at least to me, we may say more specifically that the current widespread pursuit of theological formation among religious is directed towards achieving a greater competence~in spiritual direction the responsibility for which, as we have already said, religious will assume increasingly at every On Praying and Being Human / 1283 level of the Church's life and, for that matter, outside the body of committed Christian believers. The Experience of God It is obvious also that religious will have to be more prepared and willing to speak to those who come to them for this kind of direction and counsel about the experience of God in their lives and this without embar-rassment, but with courage and humility. Such openness is desirable and necessary not only because it will aid committed believers to recognize God's presence in their own lives, but also because of its witness value and the salutary effect it has on non-believers, sceptics, and the doubtful: Just as a solid theological formation furnishes the believer with the means of present-, ing an intelligible account of the faith and of giving reasons for accepting the Christian revelation which forbid the non-believer to dismiss the Chris-tian as a hoodwinked fool--even when no "proof" is forthcoming for what is believed, so also the readiness to speak in humility and honesty of the workings of God's grace and the experience of His presence in one's life, demonstrates that the believer is not someone merely committed to repeating intellectual propositions and to presenting the "party line," but a person made more human by the grace of God, which forbids the non-believer to brush religion aside as having no relation to concrete human existence. What has been suggested above about the increasing responsibility for spiritual direction on the part of religious takes on added seriousness in the light of the following passage from Jung's essay already mentioned above. It should be emphasized that what he writes is the result of his own researches: I should like to call attention to the following facts. During the past thirty years, people from all the civilized countries of the earth have consulted me. I have treated many hundreds of patients, the larger number being Protes-tants, a smaller number of Jews, and not more than five or six believing Catholics. Among all my patients in the second half of life--that is to say¢ over thirty-five--there has not been one whose problem in the last resort was not that of finding a religious outlook on life. It is safe to say that every one of them fell ill because he had lost that which the living religions of every age have given to their followers, and none of them has'been really healed who did not regain his religious outlook. This of course has nothing whatever to do with a particular creed or membership of a church.:, With the principle of the anthropological character of the Christian revelation briefly established, we may now turn to the anthropological value of prayer. Jung pointed out, as we have already quoted, that a doctor can only accept a human being as he is "when he has already seen and accepted himself as he is."" We noted that this may be applied without qualification 1284 / Review [or Religiot~s, Volume 33, 1974/6 to spiritual directors. What we have to say from here onward can be taken as a commentary on this text as applied to the spiritual director. Our reflections belong, of course, to another dimension where science ends, but it is a dimension of human existence brought to be by the grace and the love of God. To direct and counsel another human being in the ways of God requires experience, personal prayer, theological formation, and some knowledge of the teaching of the classical author~ of spiritual theology. We are concerned here with one aspect of one of these requisites, namely, the humanizing power of prayer. By prayer one learns to accept oneself before God. The spiritual director must have already seen himself as he is before God and ~iccepted what he has seen. II. Praying and Being Thomas of Celano, the most famous biographer of St. Francis of Assisi, describing the Saint at prayer, tells us that "all his attention and affection he directed with his whole being to the one thing he was asking of the Lord, not so much praying, as becoming himself a prayer.''r This description serves to emphasize the principal point of these reflections: that prayer is not primarily saying something but being someone in virtue of a relationship with God Who is ever-present everywhere in the totality of His Being. The purpose of all prayer, be it liturgical, public, corporate, personal, vocal, or silent, is to deepen our union with God. It is essentially a relationship of union with God, made possible by God Himself who, in absolute freedom and pure loving kindness, bridges the infinite gulf that separates us in our creaturehood from Him the Sovereign Lord and Creator of the universe. In this relationship we draw ever nearer to Him and the nearer we are to Him, the more do we become like Him. The more we become like Him, the more are we made truly ourselves. We already have some faint notion of this on the ordinary principles of the Creator/creature relationship. In every man there is a desire, a longing--however it may be expressed--to reach the Source whence he came and to which he must inevitably return. Our cer-tainty in the matter, however, is given uniquely in the doctrine of the Incar-nation. Jesus Christ is the truest man, the most authentically human man who ever walked our earth. Jesus Christ the Man There has been great emphasis in recent times on the humanity of Christ and we have been advised frequently to throw off the shackles of the fear of Arianism. While this is a most desirable development in Christology, rThom~s de Ce,lano, I/ita secunda s. Francisi, 95, Analecta iranciscana, v. X (Flor-ence, 1941), p. 187: "Omenm sic et intuitum et affectum in unam quam petebat a Domino dirigebat, totus non tam orans quam oratio factus." On Praying and Being Human / 1285 we need to be on our guard constantly against any form of reductionism that would make Him no more than a particularly good man among men in the world. Nor should we forget that for Arianism not only was Jesus not God, he was not really man either, since the Logos (understood to be the first, the highest, and the noblest of God's creatures) was made flesh by taking the place of the soul in the man Jesus. What we need to stress now is that because Jesus Christ is God-made-man, he is more human than any man. In His humanity Jesus is set apart in His aloneness (not to be confused with loneliness), though He is not separated from us, precisely because He is so truly, so radically, so authentically, and so devastatingly human. Prayer and Human Life There is nothing that can make a man more himself than the constant effort to deepen his relationship with God by loving the divine will and living in the divine presence. The kind of response a man makes to the divinely-given awareness of the Blessed Mystery who is God, who penetrates every fiber of our existence, radically determines the type of person he is. Prayer is not some optional extra in our lives, not some purely peripheral activity out on the fringe of the real business of our concrete, practical monotonous day-to-day occupations, not a luxury for those with time to spare. Prayer is an indispensable element in our relationship with God springing from the trancendent dimension of human existence, without which nothing in our lives can ultimately have any lasting value or validity. This is the chief reason why those who hold that it is not necessary to pray if one works generously and devotedly for others, support a fundamentally anti-human doctrine. We know, of course, that there is a true sense in which to work is to pray, dependent on consciously attending to the things of God. But as anyone knows who has spent protracted periods in the active apostolate, work sooner or later begins to lose its attraction and become a boring burden. It is then that one understands the power and value of prayer: Without prayer there is s6on no work at all. Man is the being in the world who is becoming. He finds himself plunged into the flow of existence that is steadily making its way to a term. When he comes to ask himself the questions What is man? and Who am I? he discovers he is limited and finite, on the one hand and always something more, something beyond what he has thus far experienced, on the other. If the Source and Center of all existence is not somehow a factor in his becoming, then a man will never be human or r~ally himself at all. There is an area of mystery in every man at the core of which is an openness to God, the All-Holy One, who calls out to him from His own blessed eternity. Homo sapiens, the being who finds truth and reality not only outside him-self, but in the inner depths of his own being, must also be homo orans. If he is not the latter, then he will slip back into being no more than homo 1286 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 sciens--and knowledge only puffs up, wisdom it is that builds up. Man must progress from homo sapiens to homo amahs by being homo orans, that is to say, by praying a man becomes himself a prayer. Belief and the Existence of God The Eternal God is the Absolute Other. He is ineffable in His being, uncontainable, incomprehensible, inconceivable, incomparable, inimitable, indescribable, without beginning and without end; He is the Immortal One. For the believer the existence of God is the most obvious thing in the world. God and His grace exist more truly than the world of sense objects and experience that surrounds us and makes us what we are. The believer knows that God exists more really than he does himself. Many people would claim that these are smug and arrogant assertions; others would listen wistfully, thinking to themselves: "How fortunate believers are to know with such certainty that there is after all something to cling to, something to give meaning to life; how blessed they are to feel that life is not in the end empty, pointless, and absurd." These reactions fail to appreciate all that is involved in belief in God. For it is only when God is accepted totally in faith that the real problems confront the believer and these are infinitely greater than the question of His existence. These problems arise from man's existence who as a believer finds himself faced with the absolute demands of God's existence. For once a man believes in God and lives by his faith in union with Him, he becomes aware sooner or later that this God is the Holy God. Unlike goodness, power, mercy, justice, beauty, truth, unity, and peace, holiness is a quality which is not immediately part of our experience. Holiness is a reality of another order altogether. In the faith encounter with God a man becomes aware that he is known in the inmost depths of his being. This encounter with God as the Holy One reveals the seriousness of existence and the responsibility a man bears for his existence in the world. From this arises the concomitant awareness of creaturehood which can cause a man to cry out to God in anguish: "What moved You in the depths of Your own eternal blessedness to bring my existence out of nothing?" In the anguish is the answer: "Love eternal called you out from nothing-ness" and in this answer a man knows that the source of his anguish is Love itself. The Holiness of God God is holy and He bears a holy Name (Ex 3:1-6; Jos 24:19-20; Is 6:1-3; Ez 36:16-36). The almost impossible truth is that He demands of us that we be h61y as He is holy: "Be holy for I, Yahweh your God, am holy" (Lev 19:4); "Yes it is I, Yahweh, who brought you out of Egypt to be .your God: you therefore must be holy because I am holy (Lev 11:45); "Be holy in all you do, since it is the Holy One who has called you, and scripture says Be holy for 1 am holy" (1 Pet 1 : 15). The holiness On Praying and Being Human / 1287 of God comes from His innermost Being which is separated from and utterly beyond everything that is finite and creaturely. God's holiness is not in the first place the opposite of sinfulness, immorality, and self-seeking-- though it includes the notion of moral holiness; it is rather the contrary of all that is not God Himself. God's holiness is the perfection of His Being which ineffably transcends everything created. In the fullness of His Being God is absolute identity between His Will and His Being. God is, simply and supremely. There can be no disparity, no contradiction between God's Being and God's Will: God is what He wills, He wills what He is. In His holiness lies the mystery of His Being, that is, the Mystery of what it is simply to be. God, then, is the Holy Mystery: Holy Source, Holy Wisdom, Holy Love--Holy Father, Holy Son and Holy "Spirit. God is the Mystery of the Thrice Holy One. God the Mysterium Tremendum et Fascinans The absolute identity of the Being of God evokes feelings of awe and reverence which go beyond the categories of the purely rational. Our utter creaturehood is revealed to us in the awareness of God's holiness and this revelation occurs in the deepest recesses of the soul. In His holiness, God is both terrible and attractive, the Mysterium at once tremendum and ]ascinans as Rudolf Otto has profoundly analyzed and described it? In the presence of the Holy God man is both afraid and not-afraid at one and the same time as Rat explained to Mole in The Wind in the Willows: Then suddenly the Mole felt a great Awe fall upon him. "Rat!" he found breath to whisper, shaking, "Are you afraid? . Afraid?" murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. "Afraid! of Him? 0, never, never! And yet---and yet--O, Mole, I am afraid!" Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.~ God is the Rex tremendae maiestatis who is revealed to us as the one who is and, as such He is made known as utterly beyond us. As Pure Being He is so utterly other that when He is encountered in His holiness He inspires awe and reverential fear of necessity because as the Holy One He is unknown and precisely as holy is totally outside all previous experience. Were it not for Him we should not be able to sustain the awareness of Pure Being. Man experiences himself as divided and disorientated in his existence; there is always tension between his being and his willing, disparity and SR. Otto, The Idea o] the Holy: Apt Inquiry into the Non-rational Factor in the Idea o] the Divine and Its Relation to the Rational, trs. by John W. Harvey (Oxford: Oxford University, 1923). OK. Graham, The Wind in the Willows (London: Methuen Children's Books, 1972), pp. 92-3. 1288 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 open contradiction between what he is and what he wills. His being is fragmented and dissipated in its finitude and creatureliness. Yet God draws near to man; though He dwells in light inaccessible, He approaches man and reveals Himself as Holy Mystery and Divine Majesty. It is because He draws so close to us that we know Him to be totally other and utterly beyond us. A man is confronted with the truth of Pure Being and Total Unity and he is filled with awe and fear in the presence of such unambiguous simplicity. At the same time, however, this revelation of the holiness of God makes known to us that we are in some way like unto God. The meaning of having been created in the image of God is disclosed in all its wonder. Because He is One, the pure identity of being and willing, God is experi-enced as attractive, alluring and fascinating. In the absolute simplicity of His holy existence God is the fullness of reality. Man strives by the law of his being to be and to be more; he searches out and is drawn towards that which is to be most of all, most authentically and simply to be: the One who is the Holy Other and who lives forever. The Fidelity of the Holy God God the Holy One is revealed in the covenant wherein He pledges Him-self to man forever. Despite man's finitude, sinfulness, and ingratitude the covenant remains forever: "I will punish their sins with the rod and their crimes with the whip, but never withdraw my love from him or fail in my faithfulness. I will not break my covenant, I will not revoke my given word; I have sworn on my holiness, once for all, and cannot turn liar to David" (Ps 89:32-5). The fidelity of the Holy God evokes a personal attitude on the part of man which issues in adoration and establishes the foundation of true humility. In the presence of the Holy God man is made aware of who and what he is, not primarily of what he has done or has not done. God's holiness evokes an ontological attitude, one of being, not merely a moral or aesthetical attitude, which is brought about by the very presence of Pure Being and Simple Truth. The knowledge of God's holiness is what allows the man who arrives at it to integrate into his relationship with God the fact that he is a creature. The experience of the All'Holy God as the Mysterium tremendum et fascinans involves also an awareness of the absolute fidelity of God and of His total acceptance of a man as he is. This leads to self-acceptance as a creature and marks the beginning of the transformation into a new crea-ture. The realization comes that a man is known in the inmost depths of his being and this liberates him from the ambiguity of creaturely existence. Jesus Christ the Model of Prayer The unfathomable mystery of God the Holy One has been made known and drawn close to us. in the human life of the Man Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus On Praying and Being Human / 1289 Christ is the Father's Love which He will never take back; He is the Word that will never be revoked; He is the Covenant that will never be broken. In sending Jesus Christ to the world God has already accepted man and has already answered every prayer that might ever arise from a human heart. Since Christ is the foundation and center of the Christian life, it is only in contemplating Him that we can come to know what prayer means. We must now turn to Him whose life was itself an unbroken prayer to the Father. The pi-ayer of Christ is a favorite theme of the Gospel of St. Luke. He tells us that while Christ was praying after His baptism the Holy Spirit came down upon Him as a dove and a voice was heard from heaven: "You are my Son, the Beloved" (Lk 3:21). Again it was while at prayer that He was transfigured and a voice from heaven proclaimed: "This is my Son, the Chosen One" (Lk 9:28-,9). The foundation of Christ's prayer is the already established relationship with His Father, from which flow the desires of His will and the affections of His heart. Apart from the episodes where it is related that Christ went off to pray alone, St. Luke also tells us that Christ prayed in the presence of His disci-ples. This experience was one of the most treasured memories of the early Church: "Now one day when he was praying alone in the presence of his disciples he put this question to them 'Who do the crowds say I am' " (Lk 9: 18-9); "Now once he was in a certain place praying and when he had finished one of his disciples said, 'Lord teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples.' He said to them, 'Say this when you pray: Father, may your name be held holy' " (Lk 11:1-2). This must have been a frequent oc-currence in the disciples' experience, and it wasone they remembered in their preaching and one which the Church preserved for us in the Holy Scripture. There must have been something truly remarkable and unforget-table about the sight of Jesus at prayer. In the episode which records that He taught them the Our Father, the Evangelist states quite simply: He was in a certain place praying. It is not said that he was in ecstasy but simply that He was praying. It was evidently the sight of Jesus at prayer that moved them to ask .Him to teach them to do the same. What can have moved them to ask Him to teach them to pray? After all they were Jews and therefore familiar with pr.ayer.1° The daily life of the pious Jew was filled with a round of prayer. Yet all this had not taught them what the simple act of this man at prayer had called forth from the inner depths of their being. One can try to picture the sight of Jesus praying in the midst of His disciples and try to discover what made them ask Him to teach them to pray. Perhaps it was His serenity, the entire composure of His being; perhaps they wanted to get at what was going on in His heart and mind that made Him the kind of man He was. If we reflect a little on the passage ~"Joachim Jeremias, The Prayers o] Jesus (London: SCM, 1969). 1290 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 in Luke 11 : lff., the answer will be seen to lie in what He told them to pray: "Say this when you pray: Father, may your name be held holy . " He told them to say "Father." It was this that came to His lips without hesita-tion, quite simply and in utter confidence. Perhaps this was the very word He had been using when they saw Him at prayer. In any case, the word "Father" tells us almost everything we need to know about Jesus and it is the clue to what caused His disciples to ask Him to teach them how to pray. He taught them to say "Father." This familiar little word, which no con-temporary Jew would have dared to use of God, Jesus made the heart and soul of all prayer for ever. The Sublime Mystery of God, the Sovereign Creator of the universe, is addressed by this Man in a term so familiar that it can only be translated "Daddy." God is our "Abba." What the disciples experienced, therefore, was not so much a man saying something as being someone. They saw Jesus the Son, that is Jesus being totally Himself in the presence of the Most High God. In teaching the disciples His own prayer which expresses the intimate relationship He had with Gdd, Jesus revealed to us well-nigh everything about God: His kindness, His love, His tenderness, His mercy, His desire that we approach Him on the same intimate and familiar terms as did Jesus Himself. We will never be able to grasp what it means to address God as Father because this is one of the most staggering mysteries of the entire revelation we have received in Jesus Christ. We say this prayer very often in liturgical worship and in public and personal prayer. We must always be on our guard not to allow it to become no more than a mere jingle of words. The Church has always treasured this prayer of her Lord and she always will. It is a matter for some sadness that the translations of the Mass have rendered the introduction to the Our Father Praeceptis salutaribus moniti et divina institutione forrnati audemus dicere by the limp invitation "Let us pray with confidence to the Father . " This rendering fails abysmally to express the sense of privilege and utter distinctiveness that audemus dicere contains. In this prayer we are using the very words of Christ and we are allowed to do this for no other reason than that He taught us to address God in His words and He drew us into His relationship with the Sovereign Lord of life and death. This sense of privilege has been beauti-fully retained in the translations of the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysos-tom: "And make us worthy, Master, to dare with confidence and without condemnation to call You Father, O God of heaven, and to say: Our Father . -11 By divine grace, which is the life and love of God Himself, we are truly 11"The Divine and Holy Liturgy of Our Father among the Saints John Chrysostom," Byzantine Daily Worship (Alleluia Press, 1969), p. 288; see also "The Divine and Holy Liturgy of Our Father among the Saints Basil the Great," ibid, p. 336. See also K. Rahner, On Prayer (New York: Paulist. 1968), p. 20. On Praying and Being Human / 1291 made God's sons an'd daughters. Now in human adoption there is necessarily r~quired a likeness of nature--the mother and father must adopt a human being. There is, however, no likeness of nature between God and man. God brings it about by His own most holy grace and we become like Him and are thus His sons and daughters. Human adoption is purely external, dependent only on the will of the adopter. In divine adoption there is realized an internal change so that we are rightly said to be born of God. Finally, in human adoption in order to succeed to the goods of the adopter, the latter must die. In divine adoption God the Adopter is always the Living God and we receive the riches of His love and eternal life in the very act of adoption. In coming to the awareness of God's holiness we arrive also at the knowledge of our own creaturehood--we come to acknowledge who and what we are. The.Incarnation of the Son discloses to us that we are accepted by the Holy God to the degree, that He makes us His sons and daughters and, therefore, that we are a new creation in Christ Jesus our Lord. With these two fundamental principles before our mind we can now turn to their practical implications for the life of prayer. Prayer and Becoming Ourselves The Creator/creature relationship has been transformed and elevated by God's grace to the Father/Son relationship of an entirely new order. In His revealing Word God has made Himself known to us as He is and it is through His Word that all prayer is possible. There have been many definitions of prayer, the best known being "the raising of the mind and heart to God." Yet every one of them proceeds from and is intelligible only in terms of this fundamental relationship with God the Father, through Jesus Christ, in the Holy Spirit. The purpose of prayer, in all its modalities, is to lead us to conscious awareness and ever clearer recognition of the grace of being a son of God the Father. This grace is not an entity added to our natural being as spiritual creatures, but a radical assumption of our entire being by the love of God. It is a dimension of our human existence which God has brought into being. Prayer increases our awareness of divine adoption--Tthat is, of being this person before God the Father by reducing to conscious reflection this fundamental condition of our human existence. When we place ourselves in God's presence we are before the One who is at once our Creator and our Father. We are able to do this because He has loved us from before the foundation of the world. We are not the result of fate nor the plaything of chance, but unique, original persons called into existence by the creative act of God's most sovereignly free love. We were willed into existence by the love of God; we exist because God wants us, as ourselves, to exist. The Father saw us from all eternity in the face of His Christ and He always loved what He saw. The simple truths that God created us and allows us to address Him as Father, disclose to us that God 1292 / Review /or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 is Love, not only in Himself, but also to us. In this most radical, most basic sense God has already accepted us even before we are able to approach Him and it is this acceptance that makes any relationship with Him pos-sible. We must be careful, therefore, not to think of God as changing His "mood" towards us; He does not, because He cannot, grow hot and cold in our regard. We must not project our own changeability onto Him. God does not "spy" on us, He does not try to "catch" us. On the contrary, He gazes at us in His sovereign holiness from His blessed eternity and by this gaze conserves us in being. Through prayer we deepen the awareness of who and what we are in the very structure of our being and this is the primary reason why prayer is indispensable in self-development. Prayer and Self-acceptance The awareness of who and what we are before God also reveals to us the dark side of our spiritual nature. This is not a pure.ly psychological phenomenon; it has its origin in the mystery of iniquity. The refusal to admit this dark side of our being and the tendency to reduce the awful reality of sin to psychological disorders and cultural conditioning are among the chief causes of the spiritual sickness of our time. From the dark and sinful side of our nature proceeds the strange power which drives us to seek ourselves and to assert ourselves. Yet instead of bringing us to a uni-fied selfhood, this self-seeking and self-assertion have the contrary effect of splintering our being in multiplicity and of driving us into loneliness in the midst of the crowd. This dark and sinful side of our being must be acknowl-edged. We have all experienced the divided self; denial of it is itself a further proof of the division in ourselves. We wear so many masks and it is worth comment that the very word person which describes our uniqueness is derived from the Greek prosopon which originally meant a mask. Yes, we act, we play so many parts, we assume such varying roles according to the circumstances of persons, times, and places. In truth we are pretenders and hypocrites. And while we wear so many masks we are hiding from ourselves. In the midst of this frightening multiplicity we are unable to answer the question "Who am I?" So we run away from ourselves, we try to forget what we were yesterday and to convince ourselves that we really are ourselves today. We are disgusted because we are counterfeit and we try to lose ourselves in the feverish activities of our life of masquerade, while being driven further into the desert of loneliness, so that we dare not be alone. Emergence of the Real Self When we place ourselves in God's presence--and this means that all pretense ceases--we see ourselves in the light of God's Primordial Unity behind the masks that hide us. We recognize the multiplicity of our being. On Praying and Being Human / 1293 We see ourselves in the midst of all our pretense, hypocrisy, and acting. Yet the miracle is that we do not go mad, we do not commit suicide. In prayer the real self begins to emerge and with it and through it the deeper knowledge and conscious awareness that we are loved already and accepted; that is to say, we know God as Father and Forgiving Love. He has not condemned us, we are not oppressed. By the power and grace of His ac-ceptance we are able to accept ourselves; we no longer turn from ourselves in nausea and disgust. From the moment of self-acceptance the process of unification of our being has begun. Furthermore, this grace of self-accept-ance begins to make itself felt outside the formal moments of prayer. The real self begins to appear in our relationships with others so that we are no longer the victims of our changing environment. The masks begin to drop away to reveal the much more delightful, lovable, and authentic some-one who was hidden under the rubble of hypocrisy ,and pretense for so long. Self-acceptance, however, must not be thought to be recapitulation before our sinfulness nor passive resignation in the face of our divided being. It is the realization of ourselves as creatures of a Loving Creator and sons of a Tender Father which defines our inmost being and which allows the absolutely unique, never-to-be-repeated, utterly original someone who we are to emerge from the depths of our being. With this comes the concomi-tant awareness of the uniqueness of others. Even in the act of speaking to another person we become more and more aware of the love of God and we are no longer afraid to let another look into our eyes. Self-acceptance through prayer brings recognition of one's dignity as creature and son of God. As creature we realize we owe to God our adora-tion, thanksgiving, praise, worship, and honor; as sons we know we owe Him our love. To love God with all our heart, our mind, our soul, and our strength--this is our dignity in the world as sons of God. Once we have learned this self-acceptance we will never be lonely again. Rather, we become conscious of our aloneness in the world which is part of our uniqueness. This brings with it a longing to be alone whenever life will allow us in the midst of all our duties, responsibilities, and work. These moments alone will be amongst the most blessed in our life, for they will be spent in the presence of our Creator and Father before whom, with whom, and in whom we will be most truly ourselves. Prayer and True Self-love Self-acceptance through prayer leads gradually to a true self-love. After a time God reveals to the man who prays that He does really want the love of the human heart. This brings us, of course, to the center of the mystery of Divine Love. How is it possible that the Eternal God in the self-suffi-ciency of His Triune Blessedness should want the love of the human heart? And yet this is the simple and staggering truth of God's will for man. The knowledge of this truth reveals to us our dignity and worth before Him. 1294 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/6 God wants the love of my heart. If I refuse it, then He will never have it, because no one can stand for another or take another's place in loving God. God's love of our love for Him brings us to a love of self which is born of the awareness of our uniqueness. Self-love, thus understood, will preserve a person from the frightful stupidity of wishing.he were someone else. When one examines the implications of this stupidity, which is the worst form of envy, it becomes apparent that it is the most awful act of ingratitude to God. For He has given every one of us at least one talent of being ourselves. If we have two or five talents besides, all to the good. But let us not ignore the one that is the most precious 'of all--ourselves. If we hide this talent or bury it under pretense and hypocrisy, if we while away our time in daydreams, wishing we were someone else, then we are ignoring not merely what we have, but actually who we are and there will be no interest at all on the day of reckoning! Moreover, if we recognize this" one talent and love it as a gift from God, then we will avoid all odious comparisons. For which is the fuller, a glass filled with water or a bucket filled with water? The fact that the bucket has more water than the glass is neither here nor there as far as the glass is concerned! Finally, true self-love brings with it the desire to be like God, that is, the longing for holiness. We do not mean a desire for the effects of holiness, but for unity of our being and our will. It is a longing for integrity, a longing to rid ourselves of the disparity between who we are and what we will and it is one of the most precious graces God grants to us. Integrity is not achieved at once, of course; it is the fruit of long effort and the constant practice of virtue. It demands a rooting out of all self-seeking which is hidden in the depths of our being. We will come back to this in a later section. Prayer and Listening It is not easy to be a lisfener. We often wait for what we want to hear, sometimes we do not listen at all. So often we imagine that our own words are far more important than anything we may hear. In conversations we find ourselves waiting for the other to stop talking so that we can cast forth our pearls and give voice to our wisdom! How sad all this is; for We probably say far more in the silence of really listening than by all the words that pour out when we talk. It is no fancy to describe prayer as listening. Not that this means hearing voices or having words whispered in our ear. Prayer is a listening to God, listening for the word which says "I love you." Fo

Issue 28.1 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 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 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; 3~i Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited v¢ith ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial ottices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REvlr:w rOa R~L~GIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint ~ouis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answermg should be sent to the address Gf the Questions and Answers editor. JANUARY ~969 VOLUME ~8 NUMBER t REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Volume 28 1969 EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston'Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Dlederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in the Catholic Peri. odical Index and in Boo/~ Re. view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Ml. crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. HILARY SMITH, O.C.D. Qgiet Prayer for Busy Busy religious today seem to be shying away from more contemplative approaches to prayer. The references to quiet and recollection in the older spiritual books are considered now to refer back to a time when every-one's approach to God was modeled on that of cloistered nuns and monks. Yet, outside the religious life people as diverse as Walter Kerr and about the importance of some we are to maintain our sanity. I think it might be helpful the approach to God through Harvey Cox are writing kind of quiet periods if at this time to see that recollection and periods of quiet is neither an approach suited only for monastic congregations nor simply a far out, naturalistic fad in-dulged in by flower children. I think it might be profit-able to examine the approach some of the busy fathers of the Church used in treating of prayer to show that traditionally the effort to find God through recollection was not a practice limited to people in monasteries and cloistered convents. It is interesting to see what a lofty concept of prayer some of the busiest fathers of the Church recommended to their equally busy congregations. While the fathers did speak of prayer as asking God for things, just as preachers a few years ago did, they did not hesitate to talk or write about prayer as a simple raising of the heart to God, as recollection. This might be expected among the monastic Fathers such as St. Basil. But I think it is significant that the more active fathers--bishops, teach-ers-- should tell their congregations--the same people they warned about fornication and drunkenness--about the higher kinds of prayer. It will be helpful, before looking at the works of the fathers, to establish a fairly clear idea of the notion of praye~ that we will be looking for. What we hope to find are suggestions on the part of the fathers that their ÷ ÷ ÷ Hilary Smith, O.CJ3., lives at 7907 Bellaire Boul-evard in Houston, Texas 77096. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ Hilary Smith, O.C~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS congregations of working men and housewives practice what we would call today, or at least would have called a few years ago, "mental prayer." In St. Teresa of Avila's classic definition, mental prayer "is nothing but friendly intercourse, and frequent solitary converse with Him who we know loves us." 1 This definition of prayer is broad enough to include methodical meditation and even vocal prayers said well, but I believe that it shows that the essence of mental prayer is not a systematic arrangement of considerations with a concluding resolution. Rather mental prayer consists essentially in "tratando," dealing with God, in a friendly way. St. Teresa presents a more specific method of mental prayer, sometimes called the prayer of active recollection. "It is called recollection because the soul collects together all the faculties and enters within itself to be with its God," St. Teresa says in the now quaint sounding language of faculty psychol-ogy. It is with this specific form of prayer, active recollec-tion, that we shall be especially interested. It is impor-tant for us today to understand that this approach to prayer was not peculiar to St. Teresa or to the medieval monastic tradition. It represents a traditional Christian approach to prayer recommended to busy Christians long before men and women with education and leisure were almost all found in monasteries and convents. I hope that the following few remarks of the fathers on prayer will show that the early fathers, not haunted'as spiritual writers a few years ago were, by the spectre of Quietism, did not hesitate to recommend to their congregations a form of prayer that we might think to be too lofty or too mystical. One. very good example of a father of the Church addressing himself to ordinary lay people yet recommend-ing a lofty prayer of recollection is St. Gregory of Nyssa. He was almost certainly married, since in his treatise on virginity he says that he regrets that he himself is pre-vented from attaining to the glory of this virtue. Al-though it is true that he lived in a monastic community for a while, he is most famous as the active bishop of Nyssa, a post he held for eight years., In his works es-pecially in his commentaries on the Lord's Prayer and the Beatitudes, he has in view the needs of the average Christian. Although he is inclined to the asceticism of the desert, he is not a desert father living in isolation from the world around him--a world that seems in many ways similar to our own--but rather a man living in the .1 St. Teresa, Way of Perlection, in The Complete Works o/ St. Teresa, trans. E. Allison Peers (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1950), v. 2, p. 115. world, steeped in its culture and interested in all it has to offer.~ In his treatise on the Lord's Prayer, St. Gregory de-scribes his idea of prayer: "First my mind must become detached from anything subject to flux and change, and tranquilly rest in motionless spiritual repose, so as to be rendered akin to Him who is perfectly unchangeable; and then it may address Him by this most familiar name and say: Father." a St. Teresa's description of the prayer of recollection in her commentary on the Lord's Prayer is closely parallel. She says: "The soul withdraws the senses from all outward things and spurns them so com-pletely that, without its understanding how, its eyes close and it cannot see them and the soul's spiritual sight becomes clear." 4 We must be careful to understand that neither St. Teresa nor St. Gregory is describing some form of mys-tical prayer. St. Teresa is careful to explain that what she is describing "is not a supernatural state but depends upon our volition; by 'God's favor we can enter it of our own accord." 5 Thus St. Teresa distinguishes this recol-lection from what the students of mystical phenomena called "infused contemplation." St. Gregory is not so explicit, but he gives us to understand that the mind lifts itself from created things and places itself at rest in God. There seems to be no question here of God effect-ing something extraordinary in communicating with the Christian. Less to the point is St. Gregory's definition of prayer in general. He says: "Prayer is intimacy with God and contemplation of the invisible." n Though not so graphic as the earlier description, this definition shows St. Greg-ory's lofty concept of prayer; and, found in a treatise written for laymen, it shows that he was not afraid of presenting his lofty ideas to ordinary people. Another early Christian writer who recommends a contemplative type of prayer to ordinary men and women is Origen. His treatise, De Oratione, one of the first Christian treatises of prayer, was written as a reply to questions raised by his friend and patron, the married deacon Ambrose. Although Origen does not describe a kind of active recollection as clearly as St. Gregory, he does indicate that married folk, such as Ambrose, need not confine their praying to the recitation of vocal pray-ers or to asking God for favors. His description of the preparation for prayer brings to mind St. Teresa's defini- = St. Gregory of Nyssa, The Lord's Prayer. The Beatitudes, trans. Hilda C. Graef (Westminster: Newman, 1954), pp. $, 8, 15, 19. 8 Ibid., p. ~8. *Peers, v. 2, 115. 5 Peers, v. 2, 110. 6 St. Gregory of Nyssa, p. 24. + ÷ ÷ Quie~ Prayer VOLUME 28 ~.969 5 4- Hilary Smith, O.C.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 tion of prayer as a friendly converse with God. He says that by the very way one disposes his mind to prayer, by the very attitude with which one prays, "he shows that he is placing himself before God and speaking to Him as present, convinced that He is present and looking at Him." 7 Further on he says: "When praying let us not babble, but let us speak to God"; and, "When we pray in this way [in secret] we shall be conversing with God." In another context, in his Contra Celsum, Origen speaks of approaching God in a similar, contemplative-like way. Celsus has complained that the Christians do not worry about the cult due to the national idols, nor do they erect temples for their own worship. Origen answers in a beautiful passage where he says that Christians carry the image of their God within themselves. Every Chris-tian, he says, "strives to build an altar and carve a statue himself, keeping his eyes fixed on God, keeping his heart pure, and trying to become like God." s Again in De oratione, Origen recommends that Am-brose find a quiet place in his home to pray: "If you want to pray in greater quiet and without so much. dis-traction, you may choose a special place in your own house, if you can, a consecrated place, so to speak, and pray there." 0 Origen might well have been speaking to today's busy sisters. Another Church writer known for his work on prayer is Tertullian. Scholars say that Origen very likely drew many of his ideas on prayer from a Greek translation of Tertullian's De oratione. Some idea o[ his realistic recom-mendations to busy people on prayer may be drawn from this remark in his treatise on marriage and remarriage. He has been speaking of the value of continence as an aid in attaining union with God. Then almost equating prayer and union, he says that "men must need pray every day and every moment of the day." This may seem like only a paraphrase of the command "Pray always," but in the context it can be considered as an elaboration of Christ's command. Tertullian does not take Christ's words to mean that we should be constantly petitioning God for help, but rather that Christians should be con-stantly united to God in prayer through much the same kind of converse or treating with God that St. Teresa recommends. One last remark, this h'om St. John Damascene, may serve as a summing up ot what we have seen in St. Greg-ory o~ Nyssa, Origen, and Tertullian about the possi-r Origen, Prayer. Exhortation to Martyrdom, trans. John J. O'Meara (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 37. Cels., 8, 17, 18; quoted in Jean Danielou, Origen (New York, 1955), p. 35. Origen, Prayer, p. 43. bility for a contemplative approach to prayer for busy people. It is true that at the time he produced his little work, Barlaam and Joasaph, he was more of a monk than an active preacher, but he says that he is summarizing the ideas of the fathers before him. He says that the fathers define prayer as "the union of man with God," "angel's work," and "the prelude of gladness to come." He asks: "How shalt thou converse with God?" and an-swers: "By drawing near him in prayer." And he ex-plains: "He that prays with exceedingly fervent desire and a pure heart, his mind estranged from all that is earthly and grovelling, and stands before God eye to eye, and presents his prayers to him in fear and trem-bling, such a one has converse and speaks to him face to face." lo Better known, and at the same time a perfect example of a man who was busy, prayerful, and ready to recom-mend prayer to his congregation was St. Augustine. The ditficulty in discussing St. Augustine's approach to prayer briefly is that he has said so much about prayer. I have selected a few passages in which he seems to be speaking especially to busy people and in which he seems to be dealing with what we would call mental prayer, and more specifically with the approach to mental prayer that we described above as active recollection. Shortly after his conversion, before his baptism, Augus-tine retired for awhile to the country where he might have the leisure for prayer. We know from his Con-fessionsix that at this time he began to pour out his soul to God using the words of the Psalmist. But his corre-spondence with his friend Nebridius reveals that at the same time he was trying to withdraw from the noise of the world to find God in the depths of his soul; that he was, in our terminology, practicing mental prayer. His withdrawal was not a flight into the desert or monastery. He still considered himself and Nebridius as "busy people." The recollection he recommends to Nebridius is a practice made easier by the.solitude and leisure he is enjoying for a time in the country, but it is a practice which he says will be helpfullin the midst of activity. First he tells Nebridius of the advantages of adoring God in the "innermost recesses of the soul." He promises him that this recollection brings with it a "freedom from fear," and "an inner peace which permeates our human activity when we return to activity from our inner shrine." Finally, he tells him: "You, Nebridius, are free 10St. John Damascene, Barlaam and Joasaph, trans. Gr. Wood-ward and H. Mattingly (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1937), p. 295. ~ St. Augustine, Contessions, trans. F. J. Sheed (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1943), p. 185. + + Quiet Prayer VOLUME 28, 1969 Hila~J Smith, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS of fear only when you are inwardly recollected." lz From the Very beginning of h.is life as a Christian; St. Augustine shows, an attraction to solitary converse with God. His own prayer and the advice he gives his busy friend Nebri- ~lius furnish an interesting contrast to the prayer for-merly described in convent spiritual 'reading books. There is no question in St. Augustine's mind about re-pe~ iting many vocal prayers or following-some well-or-ganized meditatiOn plan. A few ~ears later, now a priest, St. Augustine con-tinued his exhortations, .encouraging a ~ontemplative approach to prayer, in The Lord's Sermon 'on" the Mount. He comments on Christ's words: "But when you pray, enter into your chambers." The chambers, h~ says, are our hearts.' We must close the door on things without, "all transitory and visible things which through our fleshly senses noise in upon us while we pray." Then there takes place a turning of the heart tO God; and this very effort we make in praying calms the heart, makes it clean and more capable of receiving the divine gifts. He says: "It is not words we should use in dealing with God. but it is the things we carry in our mind and the direction of our thoughts with pure .love and single affection." These ideas, coming as they do early in St. Augustine's life as a Christian, and very much like, in spirit, the teachings of the neo-Platonists on contemplation, may seem more like Platonism than Christianity. In fact, it might be argued that most of the people cited thus far, including St. Teresa, were influenced by.Platonism. It is not within the scope of this paper to discuss the influence of Platonism on Christian mysticism, nor is the question of great practical import. If authorities on prayer have found that they could effectively approach God in a way that resembles the approach of some philosophers to peace or wisdom, then the marvelous thing is not that some Christians are using a pagan philosophy in their prayer, but rather that there is such a universal inclina-tion in human nature to withdraw from the hustIe and bustle of the world from time to time and turn to loftier things. This inclination was recognized by the pagan philosophers and far eastern mystics, but it can find its best realization in a Christian context in which a personal God comes to live intimately with those who are really dedicated to Him. Later in his life, St. Augustine kept hi~ lofty concept of prayer, although, as a result of his struggle with the Pelagians, he seems to make more mention of prayer as petition. He has to explain that no one can receive ~St. Augustine's Letters, trans. Sr. WilIrid Parsons, S.N.D. (New York: 1951), v. 1, p. 157. grace simply by asking for it, but rather we ask because we have been moved by grace. Nevertheless, his classic definition of prayer in the ninth sermon on the Passion shows that he is not limiting the prayer of his congrega-tion to vocal prayer or meditation. He defines prayer as "the affectionate movement of the mind towards God." In the Enarratio in Psalmum 85, we find the idea ex-pressed above by St. Teresa that prayer is converse with God. St. Augustine says: "Your prayer is conversation with God. ~Nhen you read, God speaks to you; when you pray, you speak to God.'.' As St. Augusdnffbecame more and more imbued with the theology and language of the Bi, ble and more forgetful of Platonism, his thoughts on prayer at6 expressed more in Biblical metaphors than in philosophical abstractions. He had told Nebridius to turn away f(om created things and try to converse with God in the center of his soul. His descriptions of this contemplation of God are not too unlike the instructions of the neoPlatonists on the contemplation of true wisdom. In his later years, St. Augustine continues to instruct Christians on~ the importance of dealing With God through the heart, not just with the lips, of worshiping God in spirit, in truth, not simply in an external way. But now he presents his teaching more in the words of Christ, St. John the Evangelist, the Psalms, and less in the language of Plodnus. He frequently cites Christ's directive about praying in our own chambers, and he explains that the chambers are our hearts,is He quotes Jesus also on not using many words when we pray;14 He likes to point out that the Psalmist who so frequently calls or shouts to God is crying with his heart: " 'You have heard, Lord, the voice of my prayer. You heard when I shouted to you.' This shout to God is made not with the voice but with the heart. Many, with their lips ¯ sil.ent,~ shout with their hearts; others, making a great deal of noise with their mouths, have their hearts turned away and can ask for nothing. If then, you are going to shout, shout from within where God hears." ~ St. Augustine, then, all through his life recommended to his congregations a lofty form of prayer. He did not think it unrealistic to suggest that his people, who Were not cloistered nuns or monks, should strive after a prayerful, contemplative awareness of God's personal presence. Very likely he had achieved a contemplative union with God himself in the midst of his bu~y life and knew that it was possible for others. The modern, harried religious should not feel that his own contemplative aspirations are at all unrealistic. Rather he should see taEnar, in Ps, n. 5; Epis. 130. 14 Sermo 80. 15 Enar. II in Ps. 30, serm. 5. ÷ + ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 9 ÷ Hilary Smith, O.C.D . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS them as an important aspect of the Christian tradition in which he lives. Another great, active Church father with lofty ideas about prayer is St. John Chrysostom. He also defines prayer as a "conversation ~vith God." a6 He explains the first verse of Psalm 140, "Lord I shouted to you and you heard me," as the cry of a deeply prayerful man. The Psalmist here, he says, speaks of "an internal shout, from a heart of fire. He who thus shouts with his heart, turns to God with his whole heart." Always interested in the affective nature of prayer, he makes an important dis-tinction in explaining verse one of Psalm 5: "You hear my shout." The shout, he says, is not "an intonation of the voice but an affection of the mind." 17 To indicate the lofty nature of the kind of prayer he has in mind he says that it is a duty which we have in common with the angels. To pray with the proper rev-erence we must remove ourselves from worldly things and place ourselves in the middle of the choirs of angels. Although St. John Chrysostom has special praise for the life of monks he is anxious that everyone should give themselves to prayer, "both civil servants and private citizens, both men and women, both the elderly and the young, both slaves and freemen." as And he gives special instructions for busy housewives who would like to spend some time in quiet prayer. He reminds them that unlike their husbands "in the middle of the forum or before the tribunal, stirred up by external things as by heavy waves," housewives should be able to sit down for awhile in the privacy of their homes and recollect themselves. In this way they are like those who go out to the desert, bothered by no one: "Thus the housewife, always remaining within, can enjoy a permanent tran-quillity." Obviously St. John Chrysostom had the same notion of a housewife's life as many men today--and his ideas were probably received with the same disdain. But we are not citing John Chrysostom so much for his socio-logical data as for the importance he attaches to a con-templative form of prayer even for housewives. He ex-plains that even if she is forced to go out to Church or to the baths, once she has acquired the habit of recollection she need not be perturbed. What is more, the prayerful, recollected wife will be able to quiet a restless husband and help him forget the worries and cares of the forum.19 If we remember that St. John Chrysostom recommends a certain amount of solitude and prayer for everyone, ~ In Cap. X1 Gen., Horn. 30 n. 5. a7 Exposit. in Psalm. 5, n. 3. rs Homil. encomiast, in S. Meletium, n. 3. a~ In Jo. homil. 61, nn. 3, 4. we can profit from his commentary on Christ's prayer away from the crowds. St. John is not suggesting that everyone flee into a desert, but rather that everyone imi-tate Christ by leaving the noise of society for a little while to be able to pray and thus to return strengthened and fortified. It is thus that St. John explains the words of St. Matthew: "After he had dismissed the crowds he went up into the hills by himself to pray." ~0 "Why did Christ go up into the mountain? That he might teach us how appropriate is the wilderness, is solitude, for calling upon God. He thus frequently sought the wilderness and spent the night there that he might instruct us that we ought to seek out tranquil times and places for prayer." ~x St. John insists that the solitude necessary for prayer is not the physical solitude of the desert. Christians can pray everywhere because "God is always near." We can pray "in the bath [St. John seems especially interested in the possibility of prayer here] on the road, in bed, before the judge." ~ He says that it is not necessary to be rich or a philosopher to pray, but that even manual laborers can pray "as in a monastery: for it is not the comfortable-ness of a place, but an upright life that brings us quiet." ~3 St. John's insistence that everyone can pray everywhere at any time is b:.sed on two principles: First that God is always near to us, actually living in us as in a temple: "The grace of the Holy Spirit makes us temples of God so that it might be easier for us to pray." ~4 Secondly, we can pray always because in prayer, "the mouth makes no sound, while the mind shouts." Religious should understand, then, that aspiring to a more simple, contemplative approach to prayer, even in the midst of a highly active life, is not at all unrealistic. In fact it is more in keeping with the Christian tradition and the aspirations of human nature than the formalized meditations stressed so much in religious houses in the last two or three centuries. It is an approach to God long fostered by some of the most active fathers of the Church and recommended by them to their equally active con-gregations. .-o Mt 14:23. -~ In Mt. homil. 50. m Homil. de Canan., n. 11. ~ Ad llluminand. Cateches., I, n. 4. =4De Anna, serm. IV, n. 6. + 4- Quiet Prayer VOLUME 28, ]! VINCENT P. BRANICK, S.M. Formation and Task ÷ ÷ + Vincent P. Bran-ick0 S.I~I., is a mem-ber of the Maria-nist Seminary; Regina Mundi; gri-bourg, Switzerland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A dilemma confronts those charged with the forma-tion of religious today. A program of formation which encourages the spontaneity of the religious, one which minimizes regulations and concentrates on personal re-sponsibility seems to be the only valid method of forma-tion today. This is true not only for houses of formation but also for active community life where growth in per-sonal identity and in a way of life must continue. But in such a program of formation severe difficulties of vocation often arise. Self-doubt replaces original enthusiam. Scep-ticism challenges the very viability of religious life. And many leave. I believe these vocation difficulties are neces-sarily connected with this type of formation. In such programs administrators engage and direct the critical spirit of members to the interior structures of the life. Focusing on the life of the individual and the com-munity, this criticism strives to minimize the regulated activities and increase the optional elements of daily life. By allowing a religious to choose for himself the details of his life, the administrators hope both to develop per-sonal autonomy and help the younger member to identify himself fully with the life of the community. Seldom, however, do these great hopes materialize in a more vigorous religious life. In fact where superiors implement these reforms most whole heartedly, the greatest difficulties seem to arise. The critical spirit focuses on the interior structures of the life, and the agonizing questions begin. To what minimum should we limit our regulations? What is the basic concept of re-ligious life from which we can derive these minimum regulations? Can the present superiors be trusted to define religious life as it should be? Can a member rely on anyone but himself to conceive the definition and regulations of the religious life he is to lead? This distrust, self-doubt, and aggression generated by this type of criticism is isolating religious in an extreme individualism and is draining away real enthusiasm. The difficulty, however, is not with the criticism in itself, I believe, as with the notion of regulation implied both in this type of critical questioning and in the defensive at-tempts to answer. The basic difficulty consists in a loss of the practical sense of rule, in attempts to deduce rules from a defined concept of religious life rather than from a practical selection of religious tasks. Without an appreciation of objective task as the coun-terpart of rule, the efforts to criticize and modernize our programs of formation are developing an ex.ag.ger.a.ted self-consciousness. Our great emphasis on minimizing rules and developing autonomy is throwing out of bal-ance the dynamic but delicate dialectic of human life ¯ between self-consciousness and self-forgetfulness in task, between subjectivity and objectivity. "Responsibility," "fulfillment," and "freedom," the key words of today's personalism, pertain to subjective states of an individual, just as "minimum regulation" and "optional time" pertain to the subjective or interior conditions of a community. These terms indicate a re-flection of the subject on himself. As developing from this reflection, they are abstract and formal, belonging to a secondary thematic. As categories of human life they are certainly valid; but when taken out of their relation to a concrete activity in a concrete situation, they are deceiving. When considered outside of this relation, these terms appear very precise in. idealistic simplicity. They are ideals and in their simplicity, they evoke a radical response, a response that is immediate and totally absorbing. Men die for freedom. Priests leave their Church for fulfillment. But when these categories are not separated from their context in life, their simplicity is lessened by the com-plexity of daily business. Their radicalness is tempered by respect for the values of concrete situations. The re-sponse to these ideals can still be radical and totally ab-sorbing, but in a way that is more realistic, persevering, and in the end more effective. The objective and concrete counterpart of these sub-jective and reflex categories is task. Task is the creation of values that can be shared, values not simply of an individual subject but of a public world, where many can partake. Yet, task is more than a man's material work. It includes also his duty to worship God, his duty to be thoughtful and thankful of truth and beauty, because such duties are eminently public, even when accom-plished in silence. Task is the outward going service of that which is not self. By emphasizing task as the necessary correlative of subjectivity, we respect the nature of the human subject. Man is no't an enclosed container but an outward thrust to another. Human subjectivity is basically intention-ality. The self becomes self in becoming other. Here we 4. ÷ Formation and Ta~k VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ V. P. Branick, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 have the fundam.ental human paradox--a man finds himself through his interest in another, a man achieves personal autonomy by binding himself in love of the other, a man can reflecton ideals only when engaged in tasks. Only the altruistic love of a task can preserve and intensify personal autonomy in the unavoidable restric-tions imposed by daily choices. Choosing some goal or some means to a goal always restricts and limits, whether a person simply accepts, another's choice or whether he chooses for himself. A decision always ex-cludes a multitude of alternatives. But a person who loves his task in no way loses autonomy by this restriction. In his love he concentrates himself in the positive core of his decision, locating his life in the values he wants to accomplish. Without that love he remains scattered over all the alternatives so that the restriction of the al-ternatives becomes a restriction of self. For example, one who loves the task of community prayer can accept the restrictions of a community schedule. One who loves his task of witnessing to eschatological values can accept disengagements from some elements of the commerce of civilization. In these loves a person seeks the fulfillment of what is not himself, and by so doing he develops in and through the unavoidable limitations. Fulfillment by love of task is such a common occur-rence that we tend to overlook it. We find it in the suc-cessful professional man, in the loving parents of a fam-ily, in the dedicated missionary. Conversely, we are struck by the lack of autonomy in the person concen-trating on his own stature in a type of adolescent self-consciousness. The person concentrating directly on achieving his autoflomy is the person least capable of finding it. By centering his attention on himself he can-not maintain the intensity of his normal thrust to the outside without which he cannot live as a mature free man. The man without a task is a tragic figure. The soul searching into which he is forced only aggravates the loss of identity he suffers. He is caught in a closed circle until another comes to him and appeals for his cooperation. In our present appreciation of personalism, the notion of task has faded from importance. Task appears as an impersonal category, something to do rather than some-one to relate to. But in no way are task and person op-posed. Rather the two notions are inseparable in the understanding of human relations. A task has signifi-cance only in view of the person who will benefit from it. And relating to a person implies concrete action that is more than purely symbolic gesture. To limit our cor-poral activities in interpersonal dynamics to mere signs of interior attitudes is to attempt an angelic community and to end up in a gross sentimentalism. Our interper-sonal relations are not simply encounters between spirits. Human community demands the creation of values through corporal work as a medium of com-munication. Task as an impersonal category is an in-dispensable presupposition for a truly human person-alism. A human community receives its unity and its identity from its common tasks. No community can exist on its own substance. A community which concentrates only on interior community life will never attain the well being of its members. The cohesion and dynamism of a com-munity results from a common advancement toward a goal which transcends the community. The convergence of the members with each other results from the con-vergence of all the members on a common goal. In selfless striving for this goal, the members find them-selves united. Their mutual confidence rests on the con-fidence each has that the other' is striving for the com-munity goal, or at least is not surreptitiously seeking his personal advantage to the detriment of that goal. Dis-unities are constructive only if they occur in the context of a greater dynamic unity. If the members agree on their general task, their different ways of conceiving the specific work enter into a productive dialectic. Even adamant differences about the means to accomplish a task are not divisive in the context of agreement about the end. But where members disagree on the basic task of the community, where they dispute the primary pur-pose of themselves as a group, there can be no dynamic coherence. No amount of dedication of the members to each other as individuals can supply for this lack of dedication to a common task. No matter how much the members love each other as persons, they cannot function together. In such a group, accord can exist only by agree-ment not to work together. That is, accord can exist be-tween individuals, but not between members of a func-tioning community. After saying all this about the dependence of the in-dividual and. communitarian subject on its tasks, we cannot stop here without risking a onesided distortion. All I have said is open to the totalitarian interpretation that individuals and communities should uncritically accept and dedicate themselves to tasks handed to them from the past. This is not true. A continuation of the analysis of the relation between self and task indicates why this is not true. Our objective tasks are not fully intelligible in and by themselves. These tasks depend on the subject just as the subject depends on the tasks. Every task presupposes a certain readiness in the subject. Ira man is not ready to meet objective realities by a Formation and Task VOLUME 2B, 1969 15 V. P. Branick, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS certain sensitivity or openness to them, he will never recognize them when he comes across them. And with-out this recognition the objective task can never exist. An educational task exists only for an educated person. A religious task exists only for a religious person. Only by knowing his own religious demensions can a person articulate and thereby give reality to an objective reli-gious task. Besides depending on a subject's recognition, a task also depends for its existence on a subject's freedom in accepting or rejecting it. A task exists only as someone's task, and only in a person's free decision can a task be-come his. The automaton cannot create a task for itself because it cannot freely identify its good with the accom-plishment of the task. A free decision is thus necessary for the existence of a task, and such a free decision pre-supposes a subject who has already achieved.a degree of selfhood or autonomy. This dependence of the object on the subject holds also for communitarian dynamics. The recognition and free acceptance or rejection by a community of its task presupposes a level of coherence and self-understanding already .existing in that community. A task could never draw a group if the group could not direct itself through a group decision. We seem to have an unbreakable circle here. The autonomy of the subject presupposes a thrust toward its objective task, but this thrust presupposes the au-tonomy of the subject. In reality this mutual dependence exists more as a dialectic or oscillation between self and task, by which the subject grows in maturity and his work grows in precision and importance with each turning of the self to his task and from task to self. At the beginning of this dialectic lies, on the one hand, the basic openness of the human spirit, and, on the other, the original call of reality which can only be the direct appeal of God Himself. Task, as this dialectic reveals, has a role in human life which is at once relative and absolute. Any given task will be relative because it depends on the subject who can therefore criticize and change it. This dependence of the task on the recognition and decision of the subject refutes a totalitarian submission of the person to his work. The autonomy which the task confers on the subject is the autonomy l~y which he can dominate the task. But because this autonomy is indissolubly linked with task as such, task is absolutely indispensable to human existence. We cannot change or criticize our need to work as such. And this absolute need to give ourselves to task is present in a concrete way in any given task no matter how temporary or contingent it is. In all its provisional and contingent character, the task at hand remains the source of dynamism for the human dialectic of growth. In fact, the mature development of task requires a very delicate balance between self-reflection and outward-going service, between critical detachment and dedicated engagement, between autonomy and abnegation. Today in many areas of religious life, I believe, we have upset this delicate balance. The sudden wave of self-criticism which religious life has undergone has over-weighted the subjective pole of the dialectical balance. Individuals and communities have almost locked their sights on themselves in a direct concentration on their subjective fulfillment. The surging experience of the need to criticize and modernize the communitarian tasks is failing to issue into a more intense outward dedica-tion. This need to criticize and modify tasks has resulted primarily from the advances of Christian theology in the last twenty years, advances which in a way climaxed and received great publication in the Second Vatican Council. Modern theological insights showed the great horizontal expansiveness of Christian life, the great variety of ways in which Christianity can be :lived. The former theologies. tended to picture Christian life in a rather narrow ver-tical plane which allowed variety only in terms of hier-archic positions. The various tasks of Christian life dif-fered from each other because some were more perfect than others. This gave an absolute character to de-cisions in the selection of concrete tasks. In this narrow but precise view of Christian life, the various tasks of religious orders--their ways of prayer, their apostolic works, their degree of cloister--all seemed direct deduc-tions from the gospel following necessarily from a totally unlimited acceptance of Christianity. By showing the horizontal expansiveness of Christian life, modern theology has changed this view. We can now see many ways of acting and working as Christians, each way with a dignity proper to itself, a dignity that is not simply a limited edition of that belonging to a more perfect task. Modern theology has not depreciated the basic tasks traditional to religious life; but it has rela-tivized them by presenting them in the context of other tasks, thus showing that the acceptance of a task results more from contingent decisions than from absolute de-ductions. There are pressing needs for so many tasks that no necessity binds a community or an individual to one or the other. Seeing for the first time the contingent and provisional character of their tasks, many communities and individ-uals are experiencing a real crisis of identity. The tra-ditional tasks on which they built their identity seem 4- ÷ 4. Formation and Task VOLUME 28, 1969 ]7 ÷ ÷ ÷ V. P. Branick, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]8 to have been depreciated because they have been rela-tivized. For people who tend to think always in ab-solute categories, this relativization of traditional com-munitarian tasks is anguishing. Many religiou.s have become worried about their fulfillment and autonomy through such tasks. This worry often leads to a search to reabsolutize the community tasks, finding a modern task that is the task of the Church today. Although opening new possibilities and purging re-ligious life of obsolete structures, this intense concern about personal antonomy and this criticism of all tasks at hand is impeding the turning outward toward work in self-dedication. By fixing attention on tile subject, this critical self-consciousness is obstructing the oscillation between selfhood and task and in this way is diminishing the general vitality of religious life. Houses of formation are especially susceptible to this loss of vitality becanse it is there that the dialectic be-tween religious identity and religious task must begin. Equipped with neither the subjective identity of a re-ligious congregation nor an understanding involvement in its present tasks, candidates arrive usually with simply a willingness to enter. At this moment of entrance only a vivid presentation of tasks can engender enthusiasm, a presentation of tasks which the person sees worthy of his dedication. Concentrating on such tasks a young religious will gradually develop a self-possession in the style of the congregation that will make him fully responsible for its works, that will allow him to live without thought of external pressure, that will enable him to criticize and modify his tasks. But if on entering religious life or during the years of formation, he sees in the administrators a paralyzing hesitation regarding tile most basic tasks, if his program of formation turns his attention constantly back to him-self in questions of autonomy, fulfillment, and minimali-zation of rules, the dialectic of growth can hardly begin to operate. There is certainly no facile answer to the problem of developing religious enthusiam in a time when all tasks of religious life are being revaluated. We cannot simply ignore the severe doubts that do in fact exist in the minds of administrators. But the present hesitation to present concrete tasks to religious is serionsly hampering the possibility for formation. A rehabilitation of religious task must take place on two levels. The first level is that of the Church as a whole. On this level we can recognize a permanence and uni-versality of tasks. In the life of the Church there is a permanent need for some people to pray in a way that disengages them from personal participation in the eco- nomics and politics of our world, just as there is a per-manent need for others to ~ray in a way that involves them person.ally in economic and political progress. These needs derive from the very nature of Christianity. On this universal level we can articulate a theology that shows the beauty and depth both of the traditional and. o~ the new tasks of the Church. Such 'a theology of the functions of the Church can present these tasks in such clarity that they engender enthusiasm and initiate self-dedication. The second level is that of the particular congrega-tion. On this level we must learn to understand the co,,n~tin, gent and limited nature 'of the congregation'~ en-traiace into the universal work'of the Church. From the expansive range of ecclesial tasks, each with its own theology and permanence, a" congregation must decide on specific tasks to assume. This decision is necessarily contingent on historidal and p~rs~nal ,circumstances, but this contingency need not prevent an intense adherence~ to the tasks. The decision by a congregation will be based on its continge~tt capabilities, as a result of a his-tory of insights and ~pecializatiops, but in that decision a congregation enters into theuniversal dimensions evangelization. A chosen task may not be the most cen-tial, the most perfect possible task of the Church today, but by accepting it with its limi(ations, a religious con-gregation can take its part in the whole work of the Church in all its depth and beauty. The only alternative' to this is a perfectionist idealism that paralyzes all forts. Although in the actual appropriation of a task the two levels blend together, each operates according'to its own rules. The first level is theological and universal; the second, historical and contingent. Formation to task takes place on both levels. It educates to a vivid aware-ness of the universal tasks of the Church and to an ac-ceptance of the contingent communitarian decisions by which a society shares in these tasks. By focusing attention on the fulfillment and spon-taneity of the individual, many programs of formation today run contrary to the needs of both levels. The tasks of the Church are being obscured. Relieving the anguish-ing needs of the people of the world, bringing all men to an intimate knowledge and love of Christ, worshiping God as a community~these tasks of the Church are being displaced by concern for personal development. At the same time, the emphasis on minimizing rules and foster-ing spontaneity is blurring the need to accept the con-tingent communitarian decision of a task and the struc-ture of authority that makes the communitarian decision possible. Certainly we should be pruning away obsolete Formation and Task 19 rules, rules which are no longer associated with a task. But the effort simply to minimize rules for its own sake is equivalent to the effort to minimize community tasks. For a religious dedicated to the community work, the minimization of rules is not a burning issue. The dis-tinction between what is regulated and what is optional is of secondary importance. Rules appear as means of coordinating community effort, as expressions of what the community expectsof an individual, how he can contribute to the community functions. Since contribu-tions to the community functions may vary in a contin-uous range, from indispensable activities to actions which have little relation to the community work, the categories of "regulated" and "optional" are simply in-adequate to divide the day. Endless discussions about the precise limits of regulations indicate that the ques-tion of task has not yet been resolved. Formation must begin and end with mission, a selec-tion and a confiding of tasks, an education of people to the realities of these tasks that evokes their love for the good to be accomplished through these tasks. Trying to educate people to self-direction without at the same time giving them tasks will always tend to a loss of self-giving. Educating people to love and know tasks, allowing the tasks to draw people will inevitably result in a develop-ment of responsibility and self-confidence. The dynamism of task is the only atmosphere conducive to human autonomy. ÷ ÷ V. P. Branick, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Religious Life in a Secularized.Age Vatican Council II, in its decree on The Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life, analyzed our renewal as a twofold process and laid down two generic principles for the pursuit of that renewal.1 The first principle takes us historically backward, the second forward. The first principle is a continuous return to the gospel of Christ as a basic norm of the religious life, and the second is an adjustment or adaptation to the physical, psychological, cultural, social, and economic conditions of our day. But at this point already one should ask the question: Is not religious life caught in a false dilemma when it at-tempts to return and renew itself at one and the same time? 2 How can it move backward and forward simul-taneously? Is it possible for religious to draw their in-spiration from the gospel as well as adjust themselves within the context of a secularized age? The decree underscores the return to the gospel ideal first of all; this is why a concerted and communal effort is to be made to catch anew the gospel inspiration as a rule of life and conduct. Yet the gospel presents reli-gious with no stereotype of their life that is always and everywhere valid and that they can turn to when-ever they find themselves in religious straits. In order to re-evangelize we have to ask questions of the Bible out of our own concrete, contemporary life, because the religious life experience of 1969 presents us with prob-lems. The problems are compounded because we have till now developed only the embryo of a new style of life which shows very indistinct features of further growth. XN. 2. "E. Schillebeeckx, "Het nieuwe mens- en Godsbeeld in conflict met her religieuze leven," Ti]dschri]t voor theologie, v. 7 (1967), pp. 1-27. I have followed to a large extent the development of ideas in this article. See also Soeur Guillemin, "Renovation de l'espHt et des structures," Vie consacrde, v. 38 (1966), pp. 360-73; she covers much of the same ground from a more practical point of view. Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C., is a faculty member of Crosier House of Studies at 2620 East Wallen Roadi Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. VOI'UME 28, 1969 - ~oseph Fichtner, O~.C. REVIEW F.OR.RELIGIOUS We are asking questions, therefore, which the past Christian generations could not have asked since they did not live in a secularized age. The gospel cannot reply to questions not put to it; nor does it await questions from us which were already put to it by generations past.,'It is inconceivable that we should inquire .intb the Sc'riptures from the same van-tage point, say, as Sts. Jerome and Augustine had to do for .their respective communities whose members did not take vows but simply pledged themselves to persevere in their religious purpose. The medieval monks interpreted the Bible in a much different way than we can, and they tended to encapsulate the religious life into a profession of the three vows, a notion retained by canon law in its definition of the religious state.3 The former tendency was to regard the religious experience as a form more or less of flight 'from the world, of self-denial; renunciation, the exclusive service of God. We must strenuously reject the identification of the evangelical community life with the fo~ms it has taken in a given period and locale. Perhaps~- though you will have to judge this for yourselves--the change with the times and places is harder for the woman religious because of her naturally (and in other respects advantageously) conservative spirit. The past.historical ~onception of religious life hardly coincides with the demands made upon'human life by a secularized society.4 If we are to research the gospel for goals and guides to present,day religious .life, then we will have to approach it with an open mind, not with the m~ntality of our forebears, founders or foundresses, most of whom lived in a pretechni.cal, preindustrial, pre-democratic age. We may e~,en, have to rephrase our. ques-tions once. we listen to the cadences of God's word. The gospel may. echo. to us the question whether we have been tuned in to the secularization process critically, whether our life context offers any guarantee of human values. The times we live in, with their alternate possibilities of. good~, and evil, do not simply call for an unqualified adaptation. .-Hence what the decree aims atis that religious.evaluate their world in the light of the gospel. Some kind of eval-uation has already.been done for the Church at large in the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World; here the world is seen from a threefold view-point-- as created, as fallen and sinful, and as loved and redeemed.5 Religious life itself has to be reinterpreted 8 C. 487. ' ]. Bonnefoy, A.A., "Presence au monde ~an.s une vie religieuse," Vie consacr~e, v. 39 (1967), pp. 353-67. ; . ~ 8 E. Pin, $.J., "Les insfituts religieux apostoliques et le ~hang~- ment ~ocio-cultuel," Nouvelle revue thgologique, v. 87 .(1965), pp. 395-411. by means of a confrontation between the two, gospel and world. Without such a confrontation, the attempt either to re-evangelize or to adapt is empty and meaning-less; it is sold short by too much evangelization on the one hand and too much humanization on the other. The only way to arrive at a confrontation of the two is to examine human experience today in the light of the gospel and to understand the gospel from the viewpoint of contemporary human experience. Man today looks upon the natural world as the raw material out of which he can create his own world. The supremacy he feels over the things of the world is chang-ing his view of himself too as part of this world. Through his own scientific work he finds himself able to live a more human life; by humanizing the world round about himself he is discovering more human values. One of the values that he has freshly uncovered and that have prompted him to make the world more hu-manly livable is his freedom. Freely and creatively he would carve out of the world a home where the human community can exist in justice and love. He is filled with an indomitable desire to build a better world where men can live together in the solidarity of justice and love. But the humanization of the world by means of science and technology has also created, by way of a byproduct, the danger for man to render this world uninhabitable. The Great Society has been so organized by man that it has well nigh done away with other human opportunities such as the contemplative side of life offers him. He is forced almost to flee from the world in order to have the time and place for that contemplation which does not only regard the things of God but respects the dignity otr his fellowmen. Man risks the danger of treating his fellowmen as things and of overpowering them, of using and abusing them as he would the things of nature. If he loses his respect for his fellowman, he is liable to manip-ulate him, exploit him, and usurp his rights to human achievement.6 Of all the human qualities young people wish for themselves and expect of others the most out-standing are personal right, authenticity, trust, under-standing, loyalty, and honesty. They reject any and every sort of depersonalization. Man can so dominate the world socially, economically, and politically, that he runs roughshod over his fellowman. So the same scientific and technological progress can be both a boon and a threat to a more human existence, depending upon the use to which man puts it for his fellowman. The whoIe secuIarization process that has fallen into human hands has affected man's stance toward religion, 6S6eur Marie-Edmond, "Qu'attendent les jeunes filles de la vie rcligicuse communautairc?" Vie consacrde, v. 39 (1967), pp. 40-50. + Religious LiIe, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 23 ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtn~r, 0~.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS though primarily it is a social event that of itself need not lead to any irreligiosity. It does, however, set man upon the pinnacle of the temple of this world; it puts him into a relationship with the world which he never yet experienced. This change of relationship and his own understanding of it is bound to alter his view of God. While formerly the Church was the means of bringing his attention to God as He operated in nature, history, and society, now that man has asserted his creative power over the world, he has at the same time contrib-uted to its desacralization. God would seem to be left out; man comes to the fore. As a result the conclusion we can easily reach is that secularization and desacralization are pagan, heathen, or anti-religious. But the fact of the matter is that this proc-ess has both Christian and non-Christian elements and hence cannot be accept.ed unqualifiedly or uncritically. If anything shakes the younger generation, it is their fear for the destiny of a world so insecure in its secular struc-tures. To give the secularized world its due, we must ac-knowledge it with faith as God's creation to which he gave an autonomy and secularity. Our belief in His act of creation implies that the world be left wholly other than God---creaturely, human, worldly. 0nly if we recog-nize the world for what it is can we catch some insight into who God is, as Someone unworldly, transcendent, uncreated. The more we tend to sacralize the world, the less transcendence do we attribute to God and the less likely are we to worship Him alone. Acceptance of the world and everything worldly from a divine point of view means setting the world free for man; to secularize it is to allow it freedom, a created autonomy. In a sense, then, the secularization process follows from Christianity itself as a consequence of its refusal to commingle, confuse, or fuse God with the world. Chris-tianity has no intention of divinizing or Christianizing or baptizing the world from within, but rather of keeping the world humanized through the retention of its essen-tially human values. Christian secularity is precisely this, that Christians in a spirit of faith discern the dif-ference between the concrete Christian and the pagan elements which make up the world and allow it to be itself. Grace makes it possible for Christians to prepare for Christianization, that is, to secularize and humanize the world by means of a faith outlook. The Gospel does not sterilize the heart of man, emptying it of an appre-ciation of all earthly and human values; rather it opens to him the same full human perspective which Christ had in assuming and recapitulating humanity. Sin alone dims or eclipses the possibility of that perspective. This is the kind of world, its history and culture, in which we must situate the religious life, and this is the same world in which we can ask the appropriate ques-tions of the gospel for the inspiration of the religious life experience. A false understanding of the world will in-evitably lead to a series of false questions. It will incline the religious to view nature, the world, man, negatively, and argue for a flight from the world. The old concept of God.has undergone a change along with the old concept of the world. But the death-of-God theology has evidently failed to come up with a new con-cept of God. In the. past Christianity was always con-vinced that God is inaccessible and ineffable. Faced with the radical inability to express themselves about God or present him to their fellow Christians, theologians and mystics resorted to an apophatic or negative theol-ogy. They admitted to knowing less about who God is not than about who He is. Oftentimes God was popularly conceived as one who intervened in the world; such repre-sentations of Him in the ordinary theological manuals reflected the social and cultural milieu. The experience of faith in God was colored by the social and cultural context necessarily, but 'this did not render it less authen-tic than the experience of faith in our own cultural situation. 'If our era is less sure of and less concrete in its con-cepts of God, it is because we have turned God into a big question mark and into a popular conversation piece. Perhaps there has been more conversation about Him since his "death" than there ever was while He was still considered "alive." We would like to unmask all the former illusions about God and do away with all the pseudo-gods of the past, but in getting rid of all such idols we have not clarified or facilitated the making of God in our own image. By raising the problem of God in our own day, we are likely to forget our own human condition which threatens to falsify the truth about God. In searching for Him we run the risk of creating other idols .than those we just finished demolishing. One of our approaches to God which hides some of His reality for us and which we may be guilty of in the religious life is to think that we can dedicate our-selves to him directly and exclusively. This approach may be devoid of any real, concrete content, a sort of chase into empty space, a flight after some utopian ideal. The only way remaining for us to express ourselves about Him has to derive from our experience within this world and within this era of salvation history. God speaks to us through men, their world and history; this is the hearing aid by which we can listen to His voice. There r.eally is no opposition between God's word in Holy 4- Religious Lile, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fi~htner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Scripture and the authentic religious life experience of today, for the Scriptures provide us the norm whereby we can be faithful listeners to His word as it appeals to us in today's life experience. The latter feeds our under-standing of God, concretizes it, and gives content to our belief in God. To overlook this fact is to retrace our steps to the days when Christians felt it their duty to separate or alienate themselves from the world. We have no criticism to offer of their religious posture, be-cause it had meaning for them, but it leaves us without a real living God. Today we have the idea that to try to approach God directly and exclusively, without any worldly and human medium, is an unchristian illusion. We are inclined, if not theoretically then practically,, to distinguish between a Christian and a pagan secularity. We believe we come in contact with the living God in and through and with our fellowmen. This does not mean that as Christians we do not respond to God immediately and personally, but that our relationship with Him is real and concrete be-cause mediated through worldly and human realities. Christ experienced the immediacy of God's presence in Himself, in and through His humanity. He willed to be-come God in human form. In like manner we encounter God in the immediacy and mediacy of that image and likeness of Him which is man. What is immediate and what is mediate are not mutually exclusive but are linked together in our relationship to God. Against this modern background the religious life must examine the Scriptures to seek the solutions for the problems facing it. Sacred Scripture contains a number of evangelical counsels that simply are irreducible to the three classic vows the medieval monks or nuns pronounced. In fact, the gospel refers to only one counsel,7 one which was not expressly imposed or urged upon the early Christians.s It teaches that the perfection of love is attainable by all Christians, whatever their state of life, without their having to keep the counsel of celibacy.'° All Christians are called to an observance of the commandments and the other evangelical counsels in order to attain the per-fection of love. The one counsel alone is left to the free choice of every Christian and is the evangelical source from which the religious life has grown. Essen-tially, therefore, the religious life is a freely willed Chris-tian celibate life. This life is lived mostly in a community because few people freely will to live it in solitude.~0 7 Mt 19:10-2. s 1 Cor 7:25. ~ 1 Cor 13. ao Soeur Marie-Edmond, "Qu-attendcnt les jeunes filles?" The personal choice of this style of life is motivated by the gospel and makes sense fo~ alifetime only in virtue of the same~ The force of this motive is borne upon those young people who because of the instability and.change-ability of our age fear giving themselves to any style of life demanding continuity and stability. One who is will-ing to spend his entire life ~s a Christian celibate does.so because he is sensitive to the grace of 'God .cifll'ing. him in thegospel. He feels himself responsible to" God-who so strongly affects him that He becomes the source"of his religious life. But ~he particular form or structure of the religious life inspired by the gospel is ~as such a human project and a human construct. The whole human side of this life has developed in the course of history and is bound up with its vicissitudes. It,has t6 face the challenge of changing customs and cultures in older to survive arid renew itself. .We misunderstand the gospel message if.we base bur choice of a celibate life on a gupernatural motive alon~, as if we conceive the delibate life as a ctfoice between the natural good of marriage and .the supernatural good.of celibacy.11 Dedication of a celibat~ life to God has both immediate and mediate aspects about it, just a~ marriage itself. A couple united in Christian man'iage have an immediate duty toward God though they may mediate their love for Him through each other and thdy mayex-periefice tension and conflict in a way similar to what religious feel when they try to mediate their love for God through the world' and their fellowmen. The reli-gious life therefore has no immediate relationship to God without a worldly and human mediacy. Sometimes the immediacy of the religious life is more apparent, .'for instance, when religious live and work in community~ pray, celebrate the liturgy; at other times, in the apos-tolate, the mediacy of such a life comes into starker relief. Christian ~elibacy has also a human meaning, a natural value aside from its supernatural value, for otherwise, no matter how religiously or supernaturall~? motivated it is, it will somehow be left hanging in the air. Essen-tially it does not consist in a.chgice between God and 'a life partner; rather it is a positive choice of aw~y k)f life having natural and human meaning for those who have the iniier ability to embrace, it. Their choice, when you analyze it thoroughly, does not come down to one be-tween God and creature or between God and the world of man, but it is one which springs from the wholenes~ of his being. Celibacy of its nature permits the celibate to concen- ~ Schillebeeckx, "Het nieuwe mens- en Godsbeeld," p. 12. 4- +- +. Religious Ei~e, - Seculhri~ed Age VOL'U~E 2~, 4" 4" 4" Joseph FichOtn.Se.rC, . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS trate upon a certain life value and to dedicate to it his entire life. He freely accepts celibacy because he is con-vinced this is the only way, special as it may be, for him to be totally expendable. The value he has discovered within himself so fascinates him that he is willing to remain unmarried to achieve it; he places himself at its service; he considers it a part of an authentic life. Christian celibacy, moreover, adds to the natural value a religious, charismatic value, especially if men and women would concentrate their whole life upon its value because they would be witnesses to the world of their conviction. Within the Church their witness to the value of celibacy is a more easily and understood sign. It is seen to be a means some men and women take for the sake of the kingdom of God. Religious give to the world an irreplaceable witness of a supratemporal element alive and at work in it. In a sense they transcend history, manifesting a supernatural value and significance--point-ers to a life beyond the present. The better they can serve mankind in this way of life, the better they are able to serve the God who founded His kingdom among men. Religious men and women will show to the world the. authenticity of their life only if they commit them-selves totally to it, convinced that their expendability makes their style of life worthwhile. Others may sacrifice marriage for the sake of a tem-poral career--scientific, social, political, cultural; but Christian celibacy on the contrary entails sacrifice for the sake of a religious value. In both instances there is a sacrifice of a human value, but in the latter a trans-cendence of the religious self becomes evident. The sacrifice points to a transcendence--men and women are willing to give up marriage not for some secular good but because they want to give evidence of the religious dimension of life.x2 The religious sign value of celibacy too easily fades out or is lost among those who engage solely in a secular career, good and beneficial to society as it may be. More than ever in the past religious must be a sign of the transcendence of God in the midst of a secularized world, even when at times this sign may appear to be nothing else than a protest against a world gone pagan. They give eschatological witness of a life that overcomes the temporality of this worldAa Christian celibacy has essentially a close affinity to the other evangelical counsels, poverty and obedience, in that they too contain positive human and religious values. Heretofore the general tendency has been to re-gard the counsels or vows too negatively and isolatedly. = Karl Rahner, "Reflections on the Theology of Renunciation," Theological Investigations, v. 3, pp. 47-57. 18 Lk 20:34-7. When a problem arises, we are prone to isolate it and to forget it may have far-reaching and entangled roots (the race problem provides a good example in those who advocate job opportunity for a cure-all). Perhaps we lose sight of that unity of purpose which brings all counsels together--the following of Christ in His kenotic life; and especially the unity of the person living a trinity of counsels. Like Christian celibacy, poverty and obedience are questionable because in our time and culture they seem to lack any positive value. Today's trend is to stress the need of getting rid of poverty and of accentuating free-dom, and thus to outdate them. The question then arises how are we religious to retain the positive, human values of the two at a time when they are considered caricatures or illusions of reality. For example, how are we to evaluate poverty in a society characterized by mass production, mass consumption, white-collar work, a so-ciety preferring to poverty a prosperity that promotes health, welfare, and education programs, and leisure? Religious poverty makes sense only if it is in keeping with the real poverty existing among peoples today. Its inherent demand is that we live on a similar basis with the poor and at the same time, precisely because we have pledged ourselves to be poor, join in the effort to better the lot of the poor. Religious poverty must square with the economical situation of society and must take into account the level or standard of living. Young reli-gious are filled with a sense of sha~'ing rather than econ-omizing (as formerly) material, intellectual, and cultural goods--a spirit more current with the times. A balance has to be struck between the means and the end of the religious institute which, in any case, will require a special moderation in food, clothing, recreation, and a determination to earn a communal living by hard work. In addition, various kinds of social work performed by religious may lend themselves to social progress. Religious community life can no longer model its authority upon the medieval feudal system. Religious authority that appeals for obedience in the name of God's will is old-fashioned; it dates back to that old era of the divine right of kings. It leads to a confused idea that superiors must reign and their opinion must prevail under the pretext of deriving their authority from God. On the other hand, wherever like-minded people are ¯ gathered into a community, however much they may be motivated by love, they will still have to hold to the inte-grating factors of authority and obedience. Faithful re-ligious do oblige themselves to observe the will of God. Such a spirit of obedience is all the more sensible when Religious Li]e, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 ~9 ÷ ,÷ ÷ Joseph FicOht~n.Cer., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯30 it believes God speaks His will not only through the superior but within a life situation, within a community living together with love, friendship, dialogue, for the common good, and from within one's Own conscience. This type of obedience is not a blind following of the .superior's will rather arbitrarily determined or unex-plained, nor the keeping of meaningless, minute, mean commands, a routinized life without any commands at all, a perfunctory performance of duty without any pro-fessional competence, but an open-eyed observance of God's will as it is made known within an entire life situa-tion. The American practice of obedience functions best in an equalitarian atmosphere; Americans will not tol-erate supremacists in their midst; they are. used to bu-reaucratic (in the good sense of the word), consultative government. The religious life then consists not first and foremost in a negation, the exclusion of positive human and religious values, but in a special Christian, meaningful way of life. This life does entail the sacrifice of such values as wealth, marriage, independence which most Christians freely choose and cordially treasure. By the mere mention of the words "sacrifice" or "renunciation, we are likely to turn off people who think such practices .dwarf the human personality or stifle its spirit.14 Renun-ciations, however, are emphatically no evasion or escape f.r.om the world. The paradoxical fact about them is that they detach us to some degree from the world so as to allow fuller involvement in other ways.15 Religious do not directly choose to sacrifice earthly and human values, but they do choose a Christian way of life full of other and superior values accepted in a spirit of faith, hope, and love. Tertullian once re-marked: "Every choice implies a rejection." ~0 In choos-ing a kenotic way of lift Christ did not sacrifice human values m~rely for the sake of supernatural values; His prefere, nce was for a way of life out of various, meaning-ful messianic possibilities. Among other things His was a predilection for a celibate life because it left him free to establish the kingdom of His Father.17 Religious likewise are inclined toward a style of life which does not drive them from the world but enables them to orient their life, energy, and competence toward the world's future. Theirwhole thrust is to take the world with them to God, and this is the reason for their willingness to accept sacrifice or renunciation along with that a4 Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, n. 41; Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, n. 46. ~ K. Rahner, "Reflections." 16 Apology, 13, 2. ~"~ Lk 9:23. faithful and unconditional service they would give to God and their fellowmen. The loving service they offer concretizes that self-emptying which contradicts an egotistic spirit. The love they dedicate to God and to the world of men expressly calls for self-criticism, sacrifice, and self-emptying. If there is any emerging feature of the new-style religious life it is the conviction of its' mem-bers that they have to be present in and open to the world. The fact that the religious life is a matter of lifelong choice makes it difficult for people of our times to recog-nize its value and meaning. They are quite well con-vinced, and rightly so, that man is so built as to be un-able to appreciate the unknown dimensions of a human act binding him for a lifetime. Human psychology is so complex that for one to make such a binding decision wonld oftentimes be irresponsible, lighthearted, an act tmcharacteristic of the human will. This attitude is exemplified not only in the modern outlook upon the religious life but upon marriage too. Can man morally commit himself to an obligation that, humanly speak-ing, seems to be contradictory to his very nature? No matter how free and knowledgeable his act may be today, he cannot foresee tomorrow--he may react differently to his choice once he is put into hard circumstances where he is likely to experience his failings. To validate and give meaning to his decision, his only alternative is to entrust himself to Christian hope. That this modern mentality has a glint of truth about it, there can be no doubt. But there are values which for the moment we cannot, certainly not [ully, appreciate or approve, which nonetheless surpass the momentary situation and are imperative for the integrity of man. They have an enduring value; they hold good in any and every situation (with some exceptions) which man has to abide by if he is to be true to his own nature. In the matter of the counsels and their public pro-fession, the vows, we are dealing with a choice that in the first place is not ethically binding, it is not necessary, it is not a matter of commandment. So why should anyone be obligated to keep his choice for a lifetime if he has freely willed it in the first place? Man has an intrinsic right to freely change his mind, to decide tomorrow against his decision today. But this human vacillation is obviously giving the world much trouble. The value of following the counsels for a lifetime lies not in a freedom of choice alone but in the free and faithful acceptance of a way of life. It evidences how a religious finds it pos-sible and meaningful to dedicate himself for life despite his failings and mistakes; he accepts a lifetime of service. Fidelity too, and not only freedom, is a basic human + Religious Lile Secularized VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS quality, .substantiated by both the nature of man and his history. The will-to-fidelity must have meaning therefore; it is not a mere will-o'-the-wisp; it is the expression of the human self once and for always. Despite the fact that man can point to the vicissitudes of history and to the uncertainty of the future, that he can personally leave himself open to various possibilities for the sake of ex-periment, to see how he reacts to them in the process of maturing, still his human limitations tell him that he cannot experiment or vacillate in his decisions forever. His human limitations force him to make that decision to which he can devote the totality of his life. This is what psychologists have called the "fundamental op-tion," which has its correlative reality in a fidelity to grace and is motivated by a single love, the following of Christ. The fidelity, and integrity of a life of the counsels springs from our efforts, gradual and constant, to per-sonalize them, unify them, liberate ourselves thereby from the selfish impulses which may dominate our lives. Fidelity and integrity are ours to the extent that the counsels permeate us; taken together they add up to a complete style of life. I dare say one reason for religious discontent stems from the failure to bring the three counsels within the focus of the one fundamental option. The saying, "Divide and conquer," applies here: the more divided and disrupted a life, the greater the loss of personal energy and the less resistance to difficulties.18 To be a full man is to be faithful to the true self. It is by totally giving that each of us becomes totally him-self. The full Christian is one who gives a faithful re-sponse to that divine fidelity which never fails him unless he proves faithless to himself. The basic human reason for the inviolability of the religious life is the fundamental option, and not the pub-lic vow from which the religious can be dispensed. The religious who opts for the celibate life is a living em-bodiment of the counsels, particularly celibacy; they do not exist in the abstract or in vows or in constitutions. In making a lifelong choice man wants to be true to himself and thus to bind himself in the service of a basic value. This value is an enrichment to both the religious him-self and to his community. The value, as it were, me-diates between the person and the community, recip-rocally helping the person to serve the community and the community to respect and draw benefit from the per-son by warding off some risks of instability. In its wider scope, the value of a religious community extends to the unlimited horizons of the Church and society. When See Summa theologiae, 2-2, q.44, a.4, ad 3. a person publicly announces his fundamental option to live a celibate life in a religious community, he makes an appeal to the community to help him be a full man and a full Christian. He is helped negatively when the com-munity does not interfere with or hinder the realization of his fundamental option--the development of his personality under grace; he is helped positively when the community has a concern and care for his life ful-fillment. The binding force of a vow is derived immediately from the option one makes of God but mediately from the religious community and the Church in which the religious pronounces his vow. The religious .vow has a quality of reciprocity between the religious himself and the community of his profession. Between the two there exists a sort of two-way street of right and responsibility. In our sociotechnic world there still is much need of the other-directed spirit, of teamwork and a measure of con-formity and mutual respect to obtain the same goals. The religious cannot oblige the community onesidedly, nor can the community willfully or lightly discharge its duty toward the religious. Just as the religious can prove unfaithful to his community, so can the community fail the religious particularly if it does not renew or up-date itself. The human and Christian quintessence of the reli-gious life consists of a special concentration upon a lifelong value by means of a freely willed Christian celibacy. Whatever is added to this quintessence is of human creation and consequently is historically con-ditioned. The evangelical inspiration is subsumed into a variety of concrete forms and structures and institu-tionalisations, all of which are bound up with historical experiences and cultural patterns. None of them has eter-nal value, not even the form(s) the founder or foundress gave to the gospel message. Whenever the evangelical inspiration is found wrapped in a new life experience, its particular value can be questioned and criticized by the psychologist, sociologist, economist, hygienist, anthro-pologist, and others interested in the practical life of man. They compel us to rethink the religious life as it is time-honored and -bound in our constitutions. It is a fatal mistake to identify the latter with the gospel in-spiration. The Council fathers of Vatican II were not unmindful of the fact that religious institutes periodically revise their constitutions in order to adapt themselves to time and place. Surely in calling for a radical overhauling of the religious life they were thinking of the social and cultural revolution we are passing through, when slight and detailed changes and modifications are not enough. + + + Religious Li~e, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 33 + ÷ Joseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There is much room for consolidating, deepening, and trimming. The crisis we face is deeper and graver than we know; it is clearly evidenced by the revolutionized concept of man and God in our secularized age. If the religious institute as we know it is to survive, we must make a heroic effort to restructure and revitalize it. It does not need a heart transplant, but it will need a series of blood transfusions. Needless to say, the religious institute that cannot or will not adapt will sing its own requiem. The gospel inspiration of the religious life offers no guarantee that the various traditional forms or structures have to endure forever. A religious institute may well have served its purpose and should go out of existence or coalesce with a more viable group. The life experience today is so new, so revolutionalized, so secularized, that in a sense all re-ligious institutes can be considered old which do not reinterpret the gospel in the light of the new life situa-tion. We have to bear a crisis so severe that only a radical restructuring of the religions institute will tide it over: This restructuring has to be more than an offscouring of antiquated practices, making our life easier or more sociable. It has to arise from a thorough re-evangelisation which asks questions of itself and of life as religious live it in a secularized society. Nobody can accomplish this tremendous task but the community itself, and especially its young members who are not baffled by the new life experience becat~se they have been born and raised in it. But one can hardly insist enough upon the duty of the entire community, young and old members, to enter into the restructuring phase. This is not a task divided between the young members pushing ahead with a crea-tive spirit and the old upholding the canons of ortho-doxy. Both have to be patient and indulgent. Nor is it a summoning of an endless series of meetings and discus-sions where members reflect upon their life, haggle back and forth over community life, the apostolate, the struc-tnre of authority, and what have you, yet in the mean-while make no effort at experimentation with new forms and are fearful of groping toward a reincarnation of the religious life. Who does not feel stymied by an inconsist-ency between thought and action, plan and life? Given plenty of room for experimentation, for pilot projects, not necessarily in every monastery or convent but here and there where local needs require it and the proper authorities are willing to assume the ultimate responsi-bility, where everybody enters enthusiastically and not merely tolerantly into the experimentations, thus mani-festing their loyalty to the institute, the religious life will blossom out anew, perhaps in an unsuspected way-- at least under the mysterious, unforeseeable guidance of the Holy Spirit. ANDRI~E EMERY Experiment in Counseling Religious When* I began working at the Hacker Psychiatric Clinic in 1961---on the staff of which I am the only Catholic, unless I count one doctor, who although baptized Catholic does not consider himself a member of the Church--the general opinion of the staff would have paralleled the oft-quoted but not sufficiently validated statement that many more religious than lay persons were mentally ill. At that time they thought, I guess, that most if not all religious must be at least a little crazy.~ In the past seven years the climate of opinion in our clinic has changed, not as a result of apologetic dialogu-ing but through every day, pragmatic experience. Today, if one were to ask our staff for an opinion, they would probably say that the problems of religious were rather similar to those of lay people but that on the whole the religious seemed to be more insightful, more intelligent, and more motivated toward resolving their problems. O£ course, except for the very ill, who constituted merely a fraction of our religious clientele, intelligence and moti-vation could be presupposed; otherwise they would not have asked for psychiatric help. The Hacker Clinic is not a subsidized agency but a private clinic with some 20 professionals on the staff, most of them psychiatrists (M.D.'s). Because of its private character, patients who seek help there are mostly middle-class, financially independent or well insured, and thus comparable to the well-educated and, sup-posedly, well-socialized religious. In the past three and one half years 156 religious--73 men and 83 women-- and 6 diocesan priests were seen in our clinic. I, personally, spent more than 3500 hours interviewing these men and women. Since each person * This is the text of a talk given on August 8, 1968, at the Ameri-can Canon Law Society's Workshop on Renewal at Notre Dame, Indiana. 4- Andr~e Emery, area director of the Society of Our Lady of the Way, is a sociologist and clinical counselor residing at 127 South Arden Boule-vard; Los Angeles, California 90004. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ admitted to our clinic undergoes a full evaluation, which includes testing and psychiatric consultation and in-volves interviews with at least three different profession-als, and since some religious were seen in therapy not by me but by other members of our staff, the total hours spent by our clinic with religious and priests could easily be three or four times this number. I did not include in my 3500 hours time spent in workshops, conferences, seminars, personal interviews during educational ven-tures, nor time spent evaluating aspirants before they were accepted into a community. Thus the 3500 hours, and some, were devoted entirely to direct clinical inter-views, either for evaluation or for therapy. The 156 religious seen in the past three and one half years--118 of whom were finally professed--represent 34 communities. Of the finally professed 66 were religious sisters, 5 were religious priests, 31 were major seminar-ians, 14 were teaching brothers, and two were members of a secular institute of men. One religious priest was on leave of absence, one woman religious was exclaustrated, and three were dispensed from perpetual vows shortly before coming to the clinic. Of the remaining 38 religi-ous, 21 had temporary vows--5 men and 16 women-- and 17 were novices, of whom 14 were men. Only about 10 per cent of these patients were diag-nosed psychotic and approximately another 10 per cent as severely neurotic. The majority merely had problems, probably not very different from those who did not seek our help. The median age of all religious men and women and diocesan priests whom we saw was 28 years. The median age of the men was somewhat lower than this figure, be-cause of the relatively large number of seminarians and novices among them, and that of the women was some-what higher. Only 19 per cent of the women and 8 per cent of the men were over 40 years of age. The services rendered by the clinic varied. 78, fewer than half of the total, were simply evaluated by us. Of these we recommended therapy or counseling for 37, but to our knowledge only in ten instances was our recom-mendation followed. The other 27 did not receive the recommended help. At present, there are 10 men and 10 women religious in therapy in our clinic, 7 of them for less than a year, 13 for more than a year, and there were 64 others in therapy who are no longer coming. 22 hospital patients were visited daily; the majority who were outpatients were seen once or twice a week, and a few follow-up cases were seen once a month. All were seen in individual therapy, but 15 were also in group therapy. Priests and brothers attended group sessions with lay men, the sisters had their own group. 86, or more than half of all the religious and priests seen by us in the past three and one half years, told us that they wished to leave the religious or priestly life. Had we had longer contact with those whom we have merely evaluated, the number might have been even larger. We did not ask them directly about this and not all volunteered unasked-for information in the first in-terview. Exactly half of those who mentioned leaving did leave, most of them shortly after evaluation and without hav-ing been given an opportunity for further counseling-- or perhaps not desiring it. Ten who were in therapy in our clinic left their communities after therapy was in-terrupted against their wishes or against our recommen-dation. Of the 74 whose therapy with us was not interrupted, only four left--three during therapy and one after mu-tually agreed termination of therapy. These figures speak for themselves: problems can and should be solved rather than run from. After listening carefully to a relatively large number of religious men and women, I asked myself the ques-tion: Are their problems similar or different from those that weigh down our other patients? We cannot separate our personal growth and our in-dividual crises from the historical development and con-temporary crises of the group with which we are identi-fied. There is no human being who is free from the influence of the society into which he was born and in which he has been raised. While we sift perceptions and experiences through our personal physical and psycho-logical apparatus that is very particularly our own and give them special emphasis and slant, our apperceptions, our symbols, our values, our conflicts, our likes and dis-likes, the very traits that we think of as most personal, most expressive of our individuality, are suprapersonal. They are consensual with the culture in which we are rooted; at least they must be such if we are to be con-sidered "normal" and not "odd" by our contemporaries. This was brought home to us rather early in our ex-perience with religious patients. At that time some of our non-Catholic staff still expected to find intolerable conditions triggering if not causing the acute problems of religious. (Off the record, I have seen conditions in religious houses of men which I, or most any woman, religious or lay, could not have tolerated, and I am sure that some men, in turn, would feel the same way about our houses.) But to come back to the clinic: Not more than half a dozen of our religious patients described without corn-÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 37 4. Andr~e Emery REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 38 plaint, external circumstances in their convents that seemed intolerable to us. The remarkable thing was that. the communities from which they came were all foreign in their origin and rule and also in their membership. The conditions described would have seemed intolerable to most American religious, too; yet the religious who lived under these conditions, including our foreign-born patients, did not find it particularly intolerable. And so we had to face the fact that our judgment of what was tolerable or intolerable was made from' the point of view of national culture, which was the same for American doctors as for American religious from active congrega-tions. Taking this basic dependency on the culture group for granted, we cannot be astonished that many of the basic problems of religious men and women in the United States do not seem to differ greatly from those of other American men and women. The growth of Western civilization, together with its stratification and specialization, has created models of shifting, sectional, and contradictory prototypes, from Ronald Reagan to Martin Luther King Go Malcolm X. Ours is a mobile society, multi-valued, materialistic, outer directed, as the sociologist would say, easily brain-washed by mass media, advertisements, fads, and. ffish-ions. It is peer-group oriented rather than hierarchical and, at present, is plagued by rebellions, which while not necessarily more violent than those of the past are cer-tainly more ubiquitous. Change and not stability is the epitome of this kind of society even in human relationships, as the steadily in-creasing divorce rate dramatically shows. That time, and thus change, is a human dimension was already recog-nized by Heraclitus 2500 years ago. But the rate of change is not constant; some structures change slower than others; and there are periods when the same entity, be it matter, living being, or human society, slows down or accelerates. The period in human life when change is most evident is adolescence. Yet Erikson, who is perhaps the best known psychologist of this country, calls this period "moratorium"--delay of adulthood, which the young person needs to integrate earlier childhood experiences and to learn to conform to the larger society which will soon replace his immediate family environment. In our Western world--and, particularly in the United States which is considered the apex of it--this morato-rium on adulthood has become extended far beyond the period of physical and sexual maturation and," thus, adolescent problems he.avily "interlace and aggravate the problems that young adults, as a matter of course, must face. It is not that our young who marry or enter religion are much younger in age than were those in former generations, but their readiness to assume adult respon-sibilities, particularly continuing responsibilities, seems to be less. Young and not-so-young religious who were born and nurtured in our culture are no less exempt from this extended moratorium and its consequences than are their married counterparts. Is it really--as we often hear---~the hierarchical struc-ture of religious communities that keeps religious im-mature? More immature than their lay counterparts? We did not find religious more immature or more frequently immature. But, obviously, those who did not wish to assume responsibility, for whatever reason, had a better excuse, a ready-made rationalization. Still, the child wife, the happy-go-lucky husband are not rarities either. The impulsive adolescent who marries or enters religion, having "fallen in love," will back out quickly, and this will be less traumatic for the religious than for the married. But those who cling to the idealized image con-structed by their immature motivations and resist facing reality---even a reality not inferior to their fantasy, just different--will experience severe crises, in marriage or religious life alike--one, two, five, ten years after their initial commitment. The fantasy wears away bit by bit, leaving them numb, empty, and somehow feeling cheated. I was told with great feeling by a 25-year-old mother of four that she had just discovered that she was not a teen-ager any more but "mommy" and that she did not like it a bit. As a matter of fact, she did not know whether she liked children at all. And I had to listen to a very angry, very depressed young superior of 28, who "just wanted to do a good job," but whose ambition was thwarted by the non-cooperation of several sisters, in-cluding one severely mentally ill, and who found that she could not maintain the unruffled, cooly kind exterior that earned her the early appointment to office. The pedestal broke, both under the community where "such things could happen" and under her who could not live up to the fantasy ideal. But to go a step further: Not only does our culture extend the moratorium on adulthood, it openly vaunts that adulthood is not worth aiming for. We have a cult of youth--the historical development of which, though relevant, cannot be presented here. Youth has ceased to be regarded as a transition period in which adult living is learned, in which adult identities are crystalized. It has become an aim, an identity, a subculture, emulated in some ways by the broadest segments of society. Who wants to be an adult today? (And who wants to be a + + ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 39 A~dr~e JEnt~ry REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious superior?) The model wears a miniskirt not only on her hips but in her (or his) head. At the same time, in strange contradiction but with unavoidable logic, we have put terrible responsibilities and burdens on young shoulders, probably more so than did any former generation. One of the main characteris-tics that differentiate human from animal life is time binding: the ability to transmit experience from one-generation to another. To demand from young people that they learn all the answers "on the go," pragmati-cally, by experimentation, to pretend that in the few years of their lives they could and should discover or duplicate the accumulated experience of mankind is sheer hypocrisy, or what is worse, delusion. The im-mature cannot become mature in human society with-out guidance. To quote Erikson: "By abdicating, by abrogating responsibility, the older generation deprives the young from forceful ideals which must exist for their sake--if only so that they can be rebelled against." Ra-tionalizing our inconsistencies and vacillations, our cow-ardice and lack of principles, with the excuse that it frees them from dependency does not help the young to grow. Is the peer society of the street gang superior to the authoritarian family still found in urban minority groups and in farming areas? If we elected (or, God forbid, appointed) only religious under 35 years of age into all offices, would that really guarantee a better gov-ernment than when we acted according to a different cultural pattern and gave the offices only to the old and supposedly "wise"? Are the younger more tolerant, do they show more empathy, more Christian virtue than the old? Or the other way around? No. The generation gap is legitimate only as an ado-lescent phenomenon--as a pause (though a very active pause) in which the young person has left childhood behind and has not yet reached adulthood. Otherwise the gap is mostly semantic: personalities clashing because they do not use the same symbols, same words, for the same concepts. Interestingly, now it is the old who are expected to learn the jargon of the young and not the other way round. I still smile when I remember a recent conference attended by some 200 people where no one was less than twice 16, and most three times that age and more, and where we had to sing Ray Repp songs during Mass--which in my opinion are both poor music and poor theology--just to show that we were "with it." To this point I have spoken only of a basic social fact--I don't like to call it problem--that affects both lay people and religious in our culture and which is at the root of many symptoms that we encounter in the clinic. There is an important facet of the present confusion that (oncerns religious and priests in particular. At a recent discussion in our clinic I was asked whether I could specify the ideal, the model of a religious--his own concept of his role or identity. I had to admit that had I been asked this question ten years ago, or even five, I would have thought it answerable--but not now. Incidentally, I have asked this same question of several major superiors and received just as vague a reply. It becomes more and more clear that the theology of religi-ous life still needs to be written. Up to the time Pope John opened the windows of the Vatican, we have had--and to some extent we still have--a subculture of religious institutes, distinct though related to othe~ subcultures of the Catholic Church. In the United States the religious subculture was colored by Irish-French, or rather 'French-Irish Ca-tholicism. This religious subculture, this cultural island, was well defined, stable, hierarchical, in contrast to the mobile, multi-valued, peer-oriented culture that sur-rounded it. It had not only a particular philosophy but also its own symbolism and language--understood only by the initiated but understood by all of them much in the same way. Because of its confidence-inspiring stability and the idealism of its teachings, it greatly appealed to many: to the searching, to the young who wanted to cut the apron strings but still needed support, to those who needed status, or those who wished to leave behind materialism, competition, and self-seeking. In a sense it was all to all: it provided security and challenge, asceticism and freedom from cares, opportunity for self-development and oppor-tunity for self-sacrifice. Or so it seemed. As we have been a nation on wheels for some time, not only the present generation of religious but at least two previous ones had to do quite a bit of adjusting to this distinctly delineated structure when they left their families of origin. Perhaps the children of foreign-born parents found it easier to adjust--perhaps not. It de-pended on how much they introjected or, conversely, rejected the values of their primary group. But whether first, second, or fourth generation of Americans, all who entered attempted to adjust to religious life as they found it. I said, attempted to adjust, because our early up-bringing cannot be completely eradicated and conflict patterns will persist. Many of our seriously ill patients were older men and women: some chronically ill with symptoms of chronic frustration in attempted adjust-ment; some acutely ill, with primary processes breaking through the surface of more or less successful controls exercised for years. Adjustment to the religious life, however, has not been 4- Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 4] ÷ ÷ ÷ A~tdr~e Emery REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS entirely a one-way street. Needs and values which the individual member brought from his primary culture had also an effect on the religious institutes. These slowly changed, became more American in character, sought some kind of equilibrium with the broader society around them. Still, on the whole, they remained distinctive. Thus, the young person who entered might have found it more or less ego syntonic, more or less cor-responding to his personality and early upbringing, but rarely found it completely so. The religious way of life always demanded sacrifice, self-denial, rejection of some earlier values. At the same time it offered sufficient re-wards to enable the individual to exist in it. And then, if I may say so without offending, after Vatican II we suddenly changed horses mid-stream. The point here is not whether the change was for the better or for the worse, and most of us hope and trust that it will be to the better; nor am I questioning the need, in some respects the overdue need, for change. I merely wish to underscore the unavoidable problems that arise from such a massive and headlong change. For the sake of illustration, imagine that you are a teacher, nurse, or drill-press operator and on short notice you are told that your job description and the require-ments for employment have been redefined and that the procedures as well as the rewards have been changed. Moreover, not only are the old role definitions super-seded, but you are told that you must get new directives and guidelines--except that you are not sure from whom or what. Would you not get upset? As one of my patients said: "Formerly we knew that if we got on the boat that went in the right direction and didn't get of[, we were ok. Now we are made personally responsible to get where we are going, but no one has yet thought it through how to get there." Under such circumstances it is understandable that severe conflicts develop. You will say that most of the changes were thoroughly discussed and dialogued, that they were not sudden, that opinions were polled, votes were taken. No one's good will and integrity are being questioned. But even if experiments Were discussed beforehand, did we evalu-ate them thoroughly afterwards? This conference is an attempt to do so. Just how long is it that we have been discussing them? Two years, three years, five years? If we cannot integrate complex childhood experiences during the normal years of adolescence and must extend the moratorium, just how long do you think we need to sift and integrate the huge mass of divergent opinions, rules, roles, and behavior that has been sprung on us in the recent past? A frequent consequence is panic, and not necessarily among the old timers who now have an excuse to remain passive, to leave the initiative to the young, and, if they cannot resist temptation, to sit back and criticize. It is more often the young who panic, because the responsi-bility is too great. Hence exodus of many young progres-sives. Willy-nilly, they accept re.sponsibility for them-selves, but not for the groupl And one cannot blame them; the rules of the game are equivocal and they do I . not know what will prove rewarding. When the religious role is merely a thin veneer on the .I personality, under the abrasion of uncertainties and clashes it wears off. Religio6s ,,who s'eeme,d, to be well adjusted now revert to tlaeir real selves--and since public disapproval has diminished--leave the subculture with which they were not fully identified. It is only lately that we have come to recognize that ¯ I keeping young religious isolated for long periods in the exclusive company of their peers, even for the sake advanced education, did not help them develop ~rich human qualities and did not foster community spirit. They tended to remain a sepa, rate group which out of psychological necessity had to f, ancy itself better and dif-ferent from others, inside and outside the community. The unreality was further inflated when the young sisters were assigned, strmght from school, into positions which their lay ¯counterparts ~could achieve only .after many years of hard work. We liave seen the young Ph.D. who was made a full professojr right after she received her degree leave the community when she encountered the first serious obstacle; the[ young R.N., supervisor without ever having been a rookie nurse, getting doctors, staff, and patients into turmoil land feeling "defeated for good"; the young priest, promiiing member of his order, going literally on a sit-down strike because he could not do all that he expected from hi~nself and from others. Into this group belong also t~e men and women whose delayed adolescence led to so-cAlled "late blooming" and who leave religious life because of real or purported .I sexual oroblems. In our experience, there were far fewer of .these than generally assumed, at least among the women religious. Here I must stop and quali[y~ what I have just said. In the last two months 78 case histories accumulated on my desk, of clients not seen by us in the clinic but about whom I was consulted by a non-sectarian adoption agency. These are cases of seventy-eight ex-religious, most them college graduates, many with advanced degrees, who left their convents 6 to 18 months ago and who are expecting a child out of wedlock. They are mostly in their middle thirties, and most of the fathers of the child ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 Andr~e Emery REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 44 to be are members of underprivileged minority groups. Not one was a victim of rape. Practically all said the same thing: our community did not change fast enough with the times; our community is not involved with the poor and underprivileged. We wanted to get dose to people in a personal apostolate (none of them were trained social workers); we wanted to live with them in the inner citymand get involved. And so they did. A few of them stated that they were advised by priests to leave the celibate life and get married. But, one of them added bitterly, they never warned her how few eligible men there were in her age bracket. Not knowing these women personally, I cannot judge how many had serious sexual problems, for which this certainly was not the answer, and how many were naively following fashions or using broadly preached but not sufficiently thought through slogans to excuse their im-mature acting out. As regards the quoted advice, it seems to be freely given to both men and women religious, as if marriage were a cure for sexual problems, to be used on prescriptionmwhich incidentally doesn't work rather than a sacrament and a responsible human relationship requiring maturity and mutual respect from the part-ners. ~Arhile some of the foregoing is a regrettable but pre-dictable reaction to stress, enhanced by a cultural incli-nation to buy what is advertised or what is in fashion, irregardless, there is an additional psychological com-ponent in the existing confusion among the religious. When a person searches for a new identity or new iden-tification, by definition he ceases to act in the role of a mature adult. He regresses to quasi-adolescence, to turmoil, indecisiveness, influencibility, impulsive acting out. We have seen this syndrome frequently in refugees and adult immigrants when they tried to adjust to their new country and its culture. The search for new mean-ing, new relevance, new identity in the religious life, whether to the better or worse, per se increases the turmoil caused by other individual and social factors. Perhaps the present quasi-adolescent upheaval of the religious is unavoidable, and hopefully it will lead us into a more and better integrated religious adulthood; but it is painful for those who go through it and more often than not embarrassing for the onlooker. Having become aware of widespread immaturity in comtemporary society and of its consequences, we are now inclined to fall into another pit. We are tempted to demand the impossible: that the girls and boys who enter our institutes, seminaries, convents, be mature. Per-haps maturity could be demanded if we would up the entrance age by some 20 years, in the hope that someone else would give the young the necessary guidance and would develop their personalities for religious life. We cannot stock novitiates and seminaries with sure bets--we have to take chances. We cannot screen out all who are immature, because if we do we abdicate as religious educators, as adults who take the responsibility for nurturing and forming the young. And certainly we should not screen out anyone on the basis of one test, given in absentia and scored by someone who never saw the applicant in person. On the other hand, we should not let young religious take perpetual vows when there is a serious question regarding their suitability. Severely neurotic persons, not to speak of psychotic or potentially psychotic ones, should not be burdened hy commitments which they will not be able to keep. But, when a professed member of a community be-comes disturbed or mentally ill, do we have a right to say that he should never have entered, that she never had a vocation, that they should be let go if at all possible? Are only the perfect seated at the banquet of the Master? Father Orsy last night said that St. Peter would not have been canonized--I don't think he would have been ac-cepted into a novitiate. Are our disturbed brothers and sisters very different from us but for being harder hit by suffering? Who is my neighbor? Only the under-privileged in the inner city? These troubled men and women in our communities are our closest neighbors. They are our poor: we have accepted them, we formed or tried to form or deform them, and we must bear their burden if we are to be called Christians. There are great differences in attitudes toward disturbed religious in their communities. Trying to get rid of them, with the shallow excuse that they never had a vocation and never should have been accepted, is injustice, even if there should be some truth in it; sending them from house to house or cramming them into the motherhouse is no answer to the problem either, and neither is the plan to live in an apartment with chosen friends the solution. When I said good-bye to the chief of our clinic, he said: "You will make a theological point, won't you? [He meant some reference to religion.] After all, you will be speaking to religiousl" I am tempted to belabor for a couple of minutes the often heard remark that no one wants to commit him-self today--which is true to a certain extent. But more often than not we found that persons, religious or lay, are desperately hungry for commitment. They want to give themselves to something or someone. They so very much want to entrust themselves to some group or indi-vidual. But they have not learned to trust because they Counseling Religious VOLUME ~'8, J.969 + ÷ Andr~e Emery REVIEW'FOR R'EL'~G IOUS ,t6 have not found anyone really trustworthy in their young years. Therefore they want and need some tangible evi-dence of appreciation, something in exchange--love or ~uccess--and they want a way out if things do not work out. Their needs are unfulfilled childhood needs; their reservations are rooted deep down in bone and marrow. The concept of commitment is not easily reconciled with such reservations--certainly not Christian commitment which must be an adult act of self-giving. I know that the saints and particularly the mystics are not "in" now, but rarely have I found a better description of the "perfec-tion of charity" (if I may use such an antiquated term) than in one of St. Catherine of Siena's mystical dialogues when she heard our Lord say." I have placed you in the midst of your fellows that you may do to them what you cannot do to me, that is to say, that you may love your neighbor of free grace without expecting any return from him. Someone asked how to tell whether a tree brought good fruit? We are too often inclined to think of success as good fruit. From where did we, Christians, get this notion anyhow? Of instant success as a must? Or even as hard-earned reward of the just? Christianity always was a losing cause, at least in the short run. Few apostles have reaped where they have sown. There was a small item in the Los Angeles morning paper the day I left home. I cut it out because of its deep significance for us. The follow-ing is an excerpt from it: The finest sermon he ever heard, said Dr. Eugene Carson Blake, was just three sentences long. It was delivered by Miss Kathleen Bliss of the Church of England, before the Central Committee of the World Council of Churches last year. In a very brief closing service we had sung the ancient hymn, "Veni Creator Spiritus". Dr. Bliss then read from the Gospel of Luke in the 4th Chapter, the account of Jesus returning to Nazareth and entering into the Synagogue and opening a book where it read, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering the sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to pro-claim the acceptable year of the Lord." ,, Then Dr. Bliss spoke her three sentences. Our hymn was a prayer in which we dared to ask for the presence and guid-ance of the Holy Spirit. We never know whether He will come or what He will do to us if He comes. I remind you that the scripture account which we have just heard goes on to tell us that Jesus' neighbors in Nazareth then tried to kill Him." .There is another variation on the success theme that is even more disturbing than the naive expectation of in-st~ int reward. In our work with religious we frequently came face to face with a man or woman, capable, tal-ented, "who was deeply angry, resentful, depressed, be-cause he or she was not omnipotent. Some wanted to change others, some wanted to change themselves, some sought external success, recognition, others the persdnal satisfaction of achievement, or, occasionally, material goods. None of them faced "this carnal reality," the limits of human existence, in themselves and outside. They wanted something and therefore it had to be. If it did not happen, they went on a "strike" or they became negative, withdrawn, maneuvering-~each according to his personality. Passive-aggressive? Not always. But what-ever the pathology or the character structure, with one's "third ear" one perceived the echo of the ancient pro~nise: And you will be like God--all knowing, all powerful. When the promise did not come true, there came forth the even more ancient answer: Non serviam. I will not serve. Familiar? Some years ago it was thought that emotionally dis-turbed and mentally ill people were often preoccupied with religion. Actually, in certain crisis periods of life, such as 5-6 years in childhood, in adolescence, in the so-called change of life, when approaching death, people become preoccupied with basic human problems: life-death, love-hate, God or the void. There is a certain logic in that people should turn to God in periods of suffering and turmoil--though sometimes this might be expressed in the form of cursing. I might have misunder-stood one of the earlier speakers, and if I did, I apolo-gize, but it seemed to me that she said that the suffering and the dying are always completely self-centered. Not always, as many concentration camp cases have shown, to mention only extreme instances. When an individual is deeply rooted in a culture that recognizes the tran-scendent, and if his childhood trust was permitted to grow into adult faith, even if he experienced shorter or longer periods of emotional fatigue (to use an euphe-mism) in high and low periods of life he will return to God. This is why I was deeply shaken by the fact that of the 161 religions and priests to whom I have listened for several thousand hours, only two, one priest and one brother, mentioned God. No matter how much I would like to shun it, how can I avoid asking the question: What tragic lack in us, Christian parents of the present generation, religious men and women, teachers, nurses, social workers, catechists, what tragic lack in us has buried God so deep that even the suffering and the troubled cannot reach Him today? Indeed, there is a need for renewal that goes far beyond adaptation. + ÷ ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 ANDREW J. WEIGERT Social Dimensions of Religious Clothing Andrew J. Wei-gert is a faculty member of the De-partment of Soci-ology and Anthro-pology at the University of Notre Dame in Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Catholic experience as presently interpreted in America is undergoing many changes.1 In the midst of such widespread change, there may be a danger in under-valuing certain sociological dimensions of clothing in the case of the religious orders, both men and women, and to some extent for the diocesan clergy as well. The prob-lem is no doubt most pervasive in the religious orders of women. At the same time, there seems to be some un-clarity and lack of simple sociological principles to in-form the discussion and aid in the decision making. A folk adage has it that "the cowl does not make the monk," but the resistance offered to changes in religious garb from certain quarters makes it apparent that some may think differently. Nor is such resistance always to be attributed to unthinking conservativism. It may be based on a well founded respect for the "reality" and social, power of appearances. These realistic bases for questioning the advisability of change for the sake of change deserve respect and should be distinguished from various traditions which grow around uniforms (for example, saints appearing in a certain habit) as attempts to legitimize and sanctify a uniform for all times, places, and social orders. The present discussion of religious clothing will focus around two value orientations which are taken to be more or less conflicting: witnessing for other-worldly (transcendent) values, and identifying with this-worldly (immanent) values. In order to witness for other-worldly values, an individual must be recognized as standing for such values; and the sign, for example, a uniform which cannot be identified with contemporary cultural styles, which enables him (throughout this paper, the him will refer to the "religious," both male and female, with all wish to thank Sisters Rosina Fieno, C.S.J., and Mary Margaret Zaenglein, I.H.M., for criticizing .an earlicr version of this paper. II due respects to the latter) to be recognized as a witness also sets him apart from non-witnessing persons. Simi-larly, in order to be identified with this-worldly values, an individual must be recognized as belonging to the group which shares these values. Social recognition, as mediated by clothing, is a cognitive process whereby the viewer classifies and labels individuals according to his interpretation of their tailored appearance. An in-escapable social-psychol0gical dimension of every social order is the necessary visual "giving off" of information about his place and identity in that society which each individual proffers in his appearance. Stated aphoris- ~tic.ally, a member of society cannot not "appear," tha

Issue 14.1 of the Review for Religious, 1955. ; Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1955 The Relicjious Life . Pope Plus xII Advice to Superiors . . st. Francis de Sales The Contemplative Life . Mother M. Immaculafa Loncjevlfy of Rellcjious Mother Mary Walsh . A saint's Last Leffer. Sister Josephlna Sister M. Teresffa . John M. Render Book Reviews Ouestions and Answers VOLUME XlV NUMBER 1 RI VII::W FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME XIV JANUARY, 19 5 5 NUMBER 1 CONTENTS POPE PlUS XII AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE--Joseph F. Gallen, S.d .3. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Repeating Litany in Community Prayers .1.1. 2. Confession to Other than Extraordinary . 12 3. Privilege to Refuse Requested Indult .1.2 4. Ownership of Matured Bond .1.3. 5. Disposition of Patrimony .'. . 14 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 14 OUR ADDRESSES . " . 14 ST. FRANCIS DE SALES' ADVICE TO SUPERIORS-- Edward J. Carney, O.S.F.S .1.5. BACK NUMBERS AVAILABLE .2.2. THOUGHTS ON THE CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE-- Mother M. Immaculata, P.C .2.3 APOSTOLATE OF THE PRESS .2.8. LONGEVITY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN--Sister Josephina, C.S.J .2.9. MOTHER MARY WALSH~Sister Mary Teresita, O.P .3.1 A SAINT'S LAST LETTER--John M. Render, C.P .4.3. ON SECULAR INSTITUTES .4.6. BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Iiadiana .4.7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1955. Vol. XIV, No. 1. Published bi-monthly: January, March. May, duly, 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 danuary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.d., Adam C. E.llis, S.~., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Francis N. Kortb, S.3. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.d. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.2. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, ~rovided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Review J:or Religious Volume XIV January--December, 1955 Published at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS ST. MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS incJexed in CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX 'Pope Pius XII and t:he Religious Lit:e INTRODUCTION --l--HE present great movement of renovation and adaptation of the | religious life has been fostered in an unusually continuous and prolonged manner by the Holy See. This is evident from the congresses promoted in various countries by the Holy See. The norm that must be used to evaluate all ideas, articles, and lectures on the subject is the teaching of the Roman Pontiff, and for this reason the present effort consists of a selection of the statements of Plus XII on the religious life. The compilation is restricted to the utter-ances of the Pope and thus does not include an~i doctrines of authors or statements of the Sacred Congregations or of their officials. There are included, however, some pronouncements of Pius XII that were not made directly and explicitly to or of religious, since it was judged that from their nature these statements applied to religious at least to an appreciable'degree, sometimes also equally and even more in-tensively. All such paragraphs are preceded by an asterisk. The sources of numbers 10 and 39 are clearly stated. All other para-graphs are taken from the Acta Apostolicae Sedis, the first number being the volume, the second the year, and the third the page. --JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. I. ADAPTATION~ ' ¯ *1. "It gives Us, Venerable Brethren, an inward strength, a heav-enly joy, for which We daily render to God Our deep and humble thanks, to see in every region of the Catholic world evident signs of a spirit which boldly faces the gigantic tasks of our age, which with generous decision ik intent on uniting in fruitful harmony the first and essential duty of individual sanctification with .,apostolic activity for the spread of the Kingdom of God." Encgclical Letter, "Summi Ponti[icatus," 3 1 - 19 3 9- 5 5 7. 2. "The new times in which we live certainly demand, also inlspir-itual matters, new undertakings, new works and aids by which we can aptly meet the changed and increasing needs of our age. These, in keeping With the ardor of your zeal, you should not neglect. Labor strenuously to employ more aptly and serviceably every develop-ment of modern times to strengthen the Kingdom of Jesus Christ POPE PIUS XII Review for Reli¢ious at home and to spread it abroad. However, your institute, dear to Us and to you, must ever remain the same, the same in th~ govern-ment by which it is unified, the same in the spirit by which it 'is nourished, the same finally in that burning obedience and devoted reverence by which you are steadfastly and unflinchingly bound to this Apostolic See." Apostolic Letter to the Father General of the Society of desus, 32-1940-295. 3. "But if becauseof special circumstances and its own prudent judgment the Apostolic See should decide to decree anything that may seem new to your institute, you will beyond all doubt accept it with a most obedient mind and realize fully that it will be to your good, not your hakim. Such conduct is urged on you certainly by the obedience due to ecclesiastical authority and also by the eager and ready desire that moves you to accept anything enacted by the same authority, since it would be appropriate to the time and bene-ficial to you." Letter on the Tercentenartl of the Death ofSt. Jane Frances de Chantal, 33-1941-491, 492. *4. "When We examine the beginnings of your society,, this fact stands out and fills Our soul with the greatest joy: there bare never been lacking to the Catholic Church, there are not lacking now, nor will there ever be lacking in the future outstanding and distin-guished men who, realizing and studying the principal needs of their age, eagerly and with their whole soul strive to meet them." Letter to the Society of the Priests of St. Sulpice, 34-1942-94. *5. "The 'Church of today cannot return purely and. simply to the primitive ways of its small initial fold. In its maturity, which is not old age, it keeps its head erect and in its members reveals unchanged the vigor of its youth. It. remains what it has been from its birth, always the same. It does not change in its dogma nor in its eflScacy. It is impregnable, indestructible, invincible. It is immutable, inefface-able by the document of its foundation that is sealed with the blood of the Son of God; yet it advances, it takes on new ways with its growth in years,, it makes progress but without changing its nature, since, in the admirable language of Vincent of Lerin, the religion of the soul must imitate the manner of the body. The body de-velolbs, grows and advances in years yet always remains the same as 4t was . The Church, having already attained its mature mission of universal mother of the faithful, confronted by far greater necessities and duties, would not consent, without being unfaithful to itself, to twist its steps towards the manners of life January, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE and action of the earliest centuries." Address on the Twenw-Eftb Annioersarg ~ His Epis.copal Consecration, 34-1942-158. 6. "Therefore, since the circumstances existing originally at the time of the foundations ha're changed, there arises the necessity of adapting the constitutions and rules. Even at the time of the pro-mulgation of the new Code of Canon Law, religious orders of great antiquity, to conform their own monastic rules to the laws of the Code and likewise to correspond more to the needs of thi~ age, labored diligently to abrogate many things that were obsolete, to adapt others suitably, and to make useful innovations. They ac-cordingly opened a way to the talents and zeal of their subjects to a new or rather proper plan of action for their labors in the vineyard of the Lord." Apostolic Letter on the Constitutions of the Cistercian Congregation of Casaroari, 35-1943-390, 391. ' *7. "Therefore, We do not hesitate even now, in this second and more formidable conflict, to look on the future with a serene gaze and, We believe, for a greater reason. In fact, the work accomplished in the interval has been deliberately orientated to give the missions the character of native, not foreign, institutions. From this follows the need of native clergy and native sisters and also the principle that the temperament, the traditions and the native customs must remain inviolate in so far as they are in accord with the law of God. The missionary is an apostle of Jesus Christ. He possesses no office of transplanting a specifically European culture to the mission lands. His duty is to render such nations, which sometimes boast a culture of great antiquity, prompt and ready to accept and assimilate the element~ of Christian life and. customs. These easily and naturally blend with any sane culture and give it the full capacity and efficacy to assure and guarantee human dignity and happiness. Catholic natives must be truly members of the family of God and citizens of His Kingdom, without, however, ceasing to remain citizens also of their own earthly fatherland." Address on Missions, 36-1944- 210. 8. "Some conditions must be observed that what We have prom-ised Ourselves may be happily realized and that you yourselves may fulfill Our expectation. Above all else you are to be s~eadfastly faithful to your constitutions and to all the laws of your consti-tutions. If it seems suitable, some things in your order may be changed and accommodated to the new circumstances of.t.he~ age, but anything s.ubstantial is in no way to be touched :and is to stand 5 POPE PlUS XII Re~iew for Religious perpetually, for example, the tertianship, which hasenriched your own interior spiritual lives and has been imitated and adopted by other religious.families." Allocution to the XXIXGeneral Co.ngre- "gatiOn of the Soqiet~/ of Jesus, 38-1946-383. *9. "The sacred liturgy includes divine as well as human elements. The former, instituted by the Divine Redeemer, cannot be changed in any way by men. The human components, however, admit of various modifications as the needs of the age, circumstances and the good of souls may require, and as authorized by the ecclesiastical hierarchy under the guidance of the H01y Spirit." Encyclical Letter, "Mediator Dei," 39-i947-541,542. 10. "This, above all, must be your solemn principle; you are to protect religiously and observe always anything placed by St. A1- pbonsus as fundamental in your ~ocJety. However, .you are to re-flect and study ,attentively whether some changes should be made with regard to the external manner of life and conduct because of the changes of time and place. You will thus avoid any loss o~ damage to the sacred deposit entrusted to you over the long series q.f years?' Letter to Redernptorist Capitulars; Acta et Docurnenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfectionis, I, 23. 11. "The renewal or rather the reawakening of the spirit and life of your institute has led you to the desire of new undertakings in keeping with the changed circumstances and necessities of the time. It should be the heartfelt desire of religioias men to imbue the age in which they live with the soundness of mind of the Gospel and with grace, to win the men of their time to Christ by apt ways and paths. What could be more desirable than such plans, more salu-tary than such works? It is impossible that We should not approve such intentions." Allocution to Fathers of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, 40-1948-551. 12. '.'However, it must be your clear conviction that these greater apostolic works, demanded of you also by modern times, are" not to weaken in any way nor change fundamentally the manner of your religious, life. On the contrary, this is to be imbued and formed W.ith such evangelical spirit that all of you are conspicuous for a prope~ poverty, excel in an attractive simplicity and humility, and.especially that.you persevere in your traditional austere di~ci-pline . You must.also be on fire with the seraphic love of God and of yoh~ neighbor that consumed the patriarch of Assisi through- "6 danuarg, 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE out his life. Only ifl this way and by a spiritual and interior life that daily increases in intensity can your external works be in-spired with the divine strength that overcomes and successfully conquers all earthly difficulties." Letter to the Minister General of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, 41-1949-66. "13. "They [newly ordained priests-] are to learn what our times demand, the needs by which they are tortured, the dangers and diffi-culties they present; and hence are to be trained in all the appropriate methods by which they may more readily overcome these dangers and meet these needs in a way that is vigorous and suited to our times." Motu Pr.oprio on the Pontifical Institute of St. Eugene, 41-1949-166. 14. "As you celebrate the first centenary of the death of your de-vout founder, it is altogether becoming that you should renew and intensify the spirit with which he desired the two religious societies of men and women founded by him to be imbued and formed. You are completely aware of what this demands. You are called upon not only to embrace the evangelical life in a generous spirit, not only to strive zealously and energetically for virtue and sanc-tity, but also according to your ability to show yourselves equal to the needs of the times and to undertake courageously all forms of the apostolate introduced by the present age. In this respect William 3oseph Chaminade gave you most outstanding examples for your imitation." Letter to the Superior General of the Society! of Mary on the Centenar~l of the Death of the Founder, 41-1949-591, 592. "15. "Let it never happen, beloved sons, that the new forms and methods of the apostolate which are today so opportune, espe-cially in localities where the clergy is few in number, should either lie fallow or, for not being properly organized, should not respond to the needs of the Christian people." Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae," 42-1950-680. "16. "On these points, Venerable Brethren, We most earnestly arouse you to vigilance." We have no doubt whatever that you will act with prudence regarding the exaggeration, which is found in rfiany, of attachment to the past and of hankering after novelty. This prudence must be wise and watchful that truth alone may emerge victorious when there is question of vefituring on new paths of zeal and effort . Far be it from Us to maintain" that apostolic work should not be in harmony with present-day life or that work,~ now being undertaken should not serve the rieeds 7 ~OPE PIUS XII of our times." 695. Re~iew for Religio~, s Apostolic Exhortation, "Menti Nostrae,' 42-1950- 17. "From this common fidelity and constancy the sacred manner of life of nuns acquired a solid consistency wNch always enabled it to resist inn6vations of any kind more vigorously than institutes of any other regulars or religious of either sex. Within certain proper limits this is undeniably to its credit." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi,' 43-1951-8. 18. "On the other hand there are some elements in the life of nuns which are neither necessary nor complementary but merely external and historical, since they certainly owe their existence to the cir-cumstances of former times, which are now very much changed. These, if they are found to be no longer of any use or liable to hinder greater good, seem to have no special reason for being p.re-served. Accordingly, without the least prejudice to any of the native and principal elements of the venerable manner of life of nuns, regarding those that are external and accidental, We have decided to make ~ome considered "and prudent adaptations to present times, which may not only do greater honor to the venerable man-ner of life but at the same time increase its effectiveness." Apostolic Constitution, "Sponsa Christi," 43-1951- I O. 19. "We have been informed that in the sessions to be held dur-ing the week subjects will be proposed to the consideration of religious which undoubtedly meet the needs of the religious life at the present moment, particularly concerning the formation of souls consecrated to God and the apostolic works that should be undertaken. Minds and wills, with the aid of God's grace, are to be so reinvigorated and strengthened that, within the limits of their ability, they are to be equipped to meet the new ways of the times and thespiritual destitution of this age. The reinvigorating of one's life in all its aspects is by no means the same thing as the abandonment or thought-less lack of appreciation for everything accomplished by the very laborious efforts of one's predecessors, which all religious should esteem as the glory and ornament of their own institute. It means rather to ward off the uselessness of an indolent life, to express in personal conduct the noble accomplishments of one's predecessors, earnestly to maintain the standard of spirituality, to exert the ut-most effort to prevent the sacred laws of one's institute from appear-ing as a heap of external and useless rules, whose letter, when the spirit is lacking, kills; it is to make them in fact instruments of danuary. 1955 THE RELIGIOUS LIFE heavenly virtue that those subject to them may be able to conceive an ever higher desire for sanctity and, in imitation of the Apostle St. Paul, may spend their strength to purchase the salvation of their neighbor. If those consecrated to God are to be adapted to the ways of modern times, they are in no way to yield to the demands or senseless persuasion and invitations of the world." Letter An-nouncing the General Congress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951- 25. 20. "When young people hear the statements: 'We must keep up to date' and 'Our efforts must be commensurate with the times,' they are fired with an extraordinary ardor of soul, and if they are serving under the standard of religious militia, they keenly desire to direct the efforts of their future religious undertakings according to this principle. To a certain extent that is proper. For it has often happened that the founding fathers of religious institutes con-ceived their foundations in order to meet the challenge which newly emerging needs were urgently presenting to the Church or her works; and in. this way they harmonized their enterprises with their age. Hence if you wish to walk in the footsteps of your predecessors, act as they acted. Examine thoroughly the beliefs, convictions and con-duct of your own contemporaries, and if you discover in them elements that are good and proper, make these worthwhile features your own; otherwise you will never be able to enlighten, assist, sustain and guide the men of your own time." Address to the Gen-eral Con, gress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-33, 34. 21. "There are, however, circumstances, and not a few, when you can and ought to accommodate yourselves to the temper and needs of men and the age. Indeed to a great extent this has actually been done, and now the task is being completely and perfectly accomp-lished by y~ur combined counsels and plans. As may be seen from the variety of your undertakings both as individuals and as insti-tutes, you have already initiated many adjustments in schools, in the training of youth, in the alleviation of human misery and in the cultivation and promotion of learning. Hence it must be ad-mitted, and Our affirmation admits of no denial, that a vast amount of energy is even now being expended to meet the altered condi-tions of our era with new and effective resources." Address to the General Congress on the States of Perfection, 43-1951-34. 22. "With regard to the religious habit, choose one that expresses your interior lack of affectation, simplicity and religious modesty. POPE PlUS XII ~Review for Religious It will then be edifying to all and also to modern youth." Apostolic Exhortation to the Ibternational Conoention of Teaching Sisters, 43-1951-741. 23. "The constitutions also, taken in both. their letter and spirit, facilitate and procure for the sister everything that she needs and should do in our day- to be a good teacher and educator. That is evident in the purely mechanical aspect. For example, today in sev-eral countries sisters also, in a becoming manner, ride bicycles ~vhen this is demanded by their work. In the beginning this was some-thing completely new, but it was not contrary to the Rule. It is possible that some points of the horarium, some prescriptions that are only mere applications of the Rule, some customs that corres-ponded, perhaps, to circumstances of the past but now only hinder the work of education should be adapted to the new circumstances. Higher superiors and the genera! chapter shall take care to proceed in this matter conscientiously, with clear-sightedness, prudence and courage and, when necessary, they shall not fail to submit the pro- .posed changes to the competent ecclesiastical authority. You wi~h to serve the cause of ,Jesus Christ and His Church according to the needs of the modern world. Therefore, it would not be reasonable to persist in .usages or ways that impede such service or perhaps even make it impossible. Sisters in teaching and education should be so prepared, so equal to the lofty character of their calling, so cogni-zant with everythingthat youth will encounter and with every in-fluence that they will meet that the students will quickly ~xclaim: We can go to the sisters with our problems and difficulties; they understand us and help us." Apostolic Exhortation to the Inter-national Conoention of Teaching Sisters, 43-1951 - 74 i, 742. 24. "For yourselves, here are Our counsels: in this crisis of vocation~ make sure that nothing in your customs, your manner of life or the ascetical practices of your religious families is an obstacle or a cause of loss of vocations. We mean certain usages which, if ever suited to another cultural context, are out of place today, so that even a really good and courageous girl would find them only an ob-stacle to her' vocation. We cited different examples in Our explana- .tion of last year. To return for a word on the question of dress: the religious habit should always express the consecration to Christ; that is expected and desired by all. In other .respects the habit should be appropriate and in keeping with the demands of hygiene. We could not refrain from expressing Our satisfaction at the fact that 10 danuar~j, 1955 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS during the course of the year a few congregations bad already taken some practical steps in this matter. To sum up: in things that are not essential make the adapyations counselled by reason and well-ordered charity." Address to the Congress of Mothers General, 44- 1952-825. 25. "Your predecessors undertook renowned work for the com-mon good of nations; your obligation today is to undertake it again and again, adapted to present needs and with an ever quick-ening zeal. For your Benedictine Institute can exert today also the salutary force that will ~urni~h a suitable remedy for the violent attacks of evil." Allocution to the Congress of Confederated Bene-dictine Congregations, 45-1953-672. Father Gallen's valuable compilation of papal texts will be continued in our =ext number.--Ed. Ques!:ions and Answers I Is it necessary or correct to repeat the Litany of Loreto three times in. one evening at community prayers? We say this litany as a part of our regular night prayers. Then in October we say the lltan9 before ache ros-ary and the prayer to St. Joseph. On Saturday evenings in some of our. convents the litany is sung. In a small house where it is not sung, we say it a third time on Saturdays--all this in one evening. Is it possible to ful-fill all these obligations with one recitation of the litany? Since the recital of the Litany of Loreto at evening community prayers seems to be a custom rather than a prescription of the con-stitutions, its repetition would seem to be a matter for the general chapter to decide. Unless the chapter would decide otherwise, one recitation of the litany seems to satisfy all the prescriptions of the community prayers: (1) It is recited as part of the regular night prayers. (2) During October it is said before the rosary, which indicates the time when it is said. (3) On Saturdays it is sung, which indicates a quality rather than a repetition. In small houses where there are only a few religious, this quality may be omitted. There is no need of repeating the litany merely because it cannot be sung. 11 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoiew [or Religlods --2-- If a sister is not ~t home the day the extraordinary confessor comes to the convent for his quarterly visit, must she still cjo to another confessor besides the or.dlnary confessor? Canon 521, § 1, obliges all religious women to present them-selves to the extraordinary confessor, at least tO receive his blessing, although they need not go to confession to him. But when it is physically impossible for a sister to present herself to the extraor-dinary confessor because she is not at home on the day he comes, her obligation ceases for that visit. She need not go to any other con-fessor but may confess to the ordinary confessor, if that be con-venient. In a despairincj mood and in a confused state of mind, a sister asks her mother cjeneral to obtain for her ~ dispensation from her perpetual vows. The d~rk cloud passes; the s~ster feels better in health ~nd regrets her previous action. Several weel~s later she receives a letter from her mother cjener~l informing her thai" the dispensation has been cjranted. Where does the sister stand now? .Is she dismissed from her concjrecj~- fion before God? Must she return to the world ~cjalnst her own will ~nd. desire? Please explain in detail. In a plenary session of the Sacred Congregation of Religious held on June 9, 1922, the following question was proposed for a solution: "Whether a religious who has asked for an indult of secularization or. a dispensation from simple vows can refuse to accept the indult or the dispensation when he receives notice of it from the local superior, even though the superior general has already issued the executorial decree of the rescript in writing in accordance with canon 56 of the Code of Canon Law?" Having previously considered the opinion of consultors, after mature deliberation, the eminent Fathers decided as follows: "In the affirmative, provided superiors have not grave reasons to the contrary, in which case they should refer the matter to the Sacred Congregation." On the following day, in an audience granted to the Secretary of the Sacred Congregation, His Holiness, Pope Pius XI, approved the solution of the eminent Fathers; and the answer was published officially by the Sacred Cong'regation of Religious under date of August 1, 1922 (AAS. XIV [1922], 501). While prescribing the necessity of acceptance of the rescript of dis- 12 danuar~l, 1955 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS pensation from simple vows on the part of the petitioner, the Sacred Congregation had not set any limit as to the time within which it had to be accepted. Hence, it happened in practice that an individual religious would keep a rescript for weeks and even for months, re-serving to himself the moment of acceptance. Since such a mode of action caused various inconveniences, the Sacred Congregation of Re-ligious found it necessary to determine the time within which the rescript must be accepted or rejected. After some experimentation with regard to form, the following text was incorporated into the body of the indult of secularization or dispensation from vows when new copies were printed several years ago and is now in gen-eral use. "This present rescript shall have no value if it has not been accepted by the petitioner within ten days from the communication received of the execution of the decree." (This information is con-tained in an article by A. Guti~rrez, C.M.F., entitled: "'De Accep-tatione Induli Saecularizationis'" which appeared in Comraentarium pro Religiosis, XXXII [1953], 186-197.) From all this we conclude that the sister is still a member of her congregation, because she never accepted the indult'~ of seculari-zation or dispensation 'from her vows. .--4-- If a religious wlth simple vows receives a $750 government bond as a porf~on of his inherlfance and the bond is permitted o mature so that at' the end of ten years the bond is worth $1,000, does the relicjious keep the' simple ownership of $1,000 or of $7S07 The bond was 9iven with the ex-pressed wish of the donor that if be.permiffed to mature. Does this ex-pressed wish make any difference in the case? The free disposal of the use and usufruct (income) of his prop-erty required by canon 569 of all novices before the profession of first simple vows ~3ermits the novice to add the income to the capital, if he wishes to do so. (See Larraona, Commentarium pro Religiosis, I [1920], 338). ~f he does this, then the added income becomes a part of the capital and may not be disposed of during the lifetime of the religious with simple vows, without special permission of the Holy See. This same disposition of th~ use and usufruct may be made by a religious even after first profession for any additional property which comes into his possession under any title whatsoever (canon 569, § 2). In such a case the religious of his own accord may permit the $750 government bond to mature, so that at the end.of ten years .13 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Revieto for Religious it will be worth $1,000, but he may no longer deduct the annual payments from it, since it has all become a part of his patrimony. In the case in which the donor of the $750 government bond made known his wish that the bond be permitted to mature, the re-ligious has no choice in the matter, as canon 1514 stipulates very clearly that the wishes of the faithful regarding donations and in-heritances are to be carried out most diligently. S A sister of our community received a legacy of $2,800 from her grand-father. As her fathe~ is dead and her mother has only a very small in-come, may the sister, with the permission of her superior, give one half, or at least one third, of this money to her mother for her support, or must the permission of the Holy See be obtained fo thus dispose, of a part of the sister's patrimony? Car~on 583 forbids a religious with simple vows in a congrega-tion to giye away her property during her lifetime without permis-sion of the Holy See. In the present case the Holy See would gladly ~grant the necessary pekmission for the sister to come to the financial assistance of her mother. That permission, however, would have to be asked for. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Wood-stock, Maryland. EDWARD J. CARNEY is dean of the theological students at De Sales" Hall, Hyattsville, Maryland. MOTHER M. IMMACULATA is abbess of the Poor Clare Monastery, Roswell, New Mexico. SISTER JOSEPHINA is on the faculty of the Boston College School of Education, Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts. SISTER M. TERESITA is at the mother house of the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor, New York City. JOHN M. RENDER teaches English at the Passionist Monastery, Des Moines, Iowa. OUR ADDRESSES We have three different addresses. It would help considerably if all who com-municate with us would note them: 1. Business communications, such as subscriptions, renewals, etc., should be sent to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison St., Topeka, Kansas. 2. Books for review should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. All other editorial communications, such as manuscripts, questions, letters for publication, etc., should be sent to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 14 St:. Francis de Sales' Advice t:o Superiors Edward J. Carney, O.S.F.S. AMONG the writings of St. Francis de Sales are found letters of direction, both to lay people and to religious. In the latter category are many addressed to superioresses of con-vents, giving counsel for difficulties either personal or administra-tive. This advice does not touch on every problem, but it does in-dicate in a general way the manner of meeting some of the situations arising in the superiorship. For the purpose of presentation, excerpts from these letters have been arranged in the following groupings: I--Fundamental Virtues for ~Superiors; II~Emotional Control; III--The Superior's Manner of Dealing with Subjects; IV--The Superior and the Observance of the Rule; V~The Superior and Reception and Profession of Candidates. I-~Fundamental Virtues for Superiors St. Francis de Sales bases spiritual perfection on the virtues of humility and charity. "Humility and charity are the mainstays; all the other ropes are attached to them.''1 Therefore, in his teach-ing the superior ought to strive to acquire these two virtues. Charity always presupposes the state of grace and brings about union with God and the neighbor. It le~lds to a loving trust in divine provi-dence, to the prayer of petition, and to that manner of acting so beautifully expressed by St. Paul as kind, self-effacing, bearing all things, hoping all things, enduring all things. In the ordinary course of events, appointment to the office of superior represents a fulfillment in time of an eternal decree. God not only obliges Himself to give to the one in charge the means of fulfilling the duties of state, but through a faithful instrument He will accomplish His designs. Therefore, every superior should trust in God's loving providence and confidently hope to receive from Him whatever help is necessary. "What a consolation for you that it is God Himself who has made you superioress . . . ! Where-fore, His providence is under obligation to you, on account of its 1The quotations from St. Francis de Sales are taken from the Dora Mackey trans-lations, with minor changes in the mechanics of spelling, punctuation, and capitali-zation. 15 EDWARD d. CARNEY Reoieto for Religious being the disposer of things, to hold you with its hand, that you may do well what it calls you to. Be sure of this, my dear daugh-ter; you must walk with good confidence under the guidance of this good God and not except yourself from that general rule that God who has begun in you a good work will perfect it, according to His wisdom, provided that we are faithful and humble." Neighborly charity is also an important virtue for the superior. It must not, however, lead to a weakening of. authority or to a removal of proper respect. "I do not think there is any practice to which you should pay more attention than to that of most holy charity towards your neighbor, by sweetly bearing with them and lovingly serving them, but in such sort that you take care always to preserve the authority and gravity of a superior, accompanied with holy humility." Commands contrary to the natural inclinations of others are often ifl order. If these are given kindly and graciously, the sub-jects ordinarily will show a better response. "For whereas it is a very hard thing to feel oneself crushed and mortified at every turn, yet the skill of a sweet and charitable mother gets the bitter pills swallowed with the milk of a h61y friendship;" To a superior who had failed somewhat against charity in an effort to establish religious observance, St. Francis de Sales sent this gentle correction: "Your zeal was quite good, .but it had the defect of being a little bitter, a little severe, a little exacting; now we have purified it from this; it will henceforth be sweet, mild, gracious, peaceful, fore-bearing." True charity requires the maintenance of a correct balance be-tween self, God, and the neighbor. This is had through the exer-cise of the virtue of humility, one of the finest qualities to be found in authority. Thus, along with charity St. Francis would have humility as the mark of the superior. "Be~very simple; . . . humble yourself without discouragement; encourage yourself without pre-sumption." The saint at times treats this virtue of humility in the sense of repression of inordinate movements of self. For example, to a superior giving way to impatience amid the trials of dealing with subjects, he wrote: "Gradually tame down the vivacity of your spirit to patience,' sweetness, and affability amid the littleness, childishness, and feminine imperfections of the sisters who are tender with themselves and inclined to be always teasing a mother's ears." Even .personal imperfections in dealing with subjects can be used 16 Januar~t, 1955 FRANCIS DE SALES' ADVICE as a means of acquiring humility. "Our imperfections in treating affairs, whether interior or exterior, are a great subject of humility; and humility produces and nourishes generosity." II-~Emotional Control St. Thomas Aquinas treats the emotions from the standpoint of good or evil. Love, desire, hope, and joy are possible states in one who looks upon circumstances and persons as good. On the other hand, to regard these things as evil gives entrance to hate, aversion, sorrow, fear, and anger. In the exercise of office, a su-perior meets many difficulties, which, though seemihgly evil, can really be considered as good. Fo~ example, an immediate problem in the direction of the community somehow or other represents God's plan, which can have only good as its final end. Furthermore, to dwell on the defect~ of another is to burden oneself with dislike, aversion, anger. To lovenat least supernaturally--is to bring peace and jo.y into one's outlook. The most common emotional problems confronting authority are worry, anger, and discouragement. For their control and also for the cultivation of a spirit of peace and joy, St. Francis de Sales principally recommends, trust in divine providence and love of neighbor. Anxiety and worry may beset the one in charge of the com-munity. This mental state is reducible to the emotion of fear, which arises when. some evil in the environment seems insuperable. By trusting completely in divine providence, the superior will find a remedy; for God always helps, sends His grace, gives aid. "Up to now the anxiety .about direction and the apprehension of your future superiorsbip have agitated you a little and have often made you vary in thoughts; now that you are a mother of so many daughters, you should remain quiet, serene, and always the same, reposing upon divine providence, which would never have placed all these daughters within your arms and in your bosom without having in some measure destined you an assistance, a help, a grace, most sufficient and abundant, for your upholding and support." In general, St. Francis would have the superior careful in the exercise of charge but without anxiety. "Be painstaking, but keep from eager solicitude." He does not, of course, analyze every ty.pe of worry; but be does mention how to avoid it in the making of decisions, and warns lest ufidue concern over personal imperfection and inadequacy interfere with proper direction of subjects. 17 EDWARD J. CARNEY Reoiew t~or Religious The saint points out that in important matters a superior may~ delay giving an answer. "Do not be quick to promise, but ask time to make up your mind in matters of any consequence. This is fitting in order to secure the good success of our affairs and to nourish humility." However, such a manner of acting differs from inde-cision, which comes from a fear of making an error in choice. St. Francis wishes the superior to rely completely on God and, once a decision has been made, to refrain from ceaseless examination on the course chosen. "When you have decided that something ought to be done, walk securely and fear nothing, regarding God as often as you can." "The resolution baying been taken, one should con-tent oneself with this, that on whatever side one turns the affairs of this world, there will always be much to be desired and to be. discussed, so that, after one has formed one's determination, one should not occupy oneself in sighing after the imagination of better things but in properly overcoming present difficulties, which, more-over, we cannot escape without encountering others greater, since every place is full of them." Sometimes a superior is beset by.a feeling of inadequacy. This may arise from many sources; such as, from lack of background or from personal defects in the spiritual life. Besides being a cause of internal worry and discouragement, it may prevent the superior from giving advice or counsel to the subjects. St. Francis de Sales wishes the one in charge of the community to trust in God and not to use personal imperfection as an excuse for omitting instruction to others. "If nobody worked for souls except those who have no difficulty in their exercises and who are perfect, you would have no father in me; we are not to give up consoling others because we are in perplexity ourselves. How many good doctors are there who are far from being in good health, and how many beautiful paintings are made by ugly painters? When, therefore, your daugh-ters come to you, tell them simply and with charity what God may" inspire you with--and do not send them away from you empty." Worry is not always limited to an immediate problem. Often it is anticipatory, even of the very distant future. In most cases, such difficulties never materialize. If they do, they are not as great as expected. Undue care tends to make the imagination overexag-gerate, to face issues not singly, as they generally occur, but in ac-cumulation. Such troubles are harder to bear than those of reality. "And so, my dear daughter, the multitude of difficulties terrified you; and you bad thoughts of giving it all up: meantime, you have 18 January, 1955 FRANCIS DE SALES" ADVICE' found that all is done. It will be the same with all the rest; per-severance will overcome everything." St. Francis de Sales would have the superior ask for grace and help to face each present mo-ment and then leave the future in the hands of God. "The true servant of God is not solicitoUs for the morrow; she executes faith-fully what He wants today, and tombrrow what He wants; and, after tomorrow, what He shall want then." "Our Lord does not will us to ask our annual bread, or monthly, or weekly, but daily. Try to do well today, without thinking of the next day: then on the next day, try to do the same; and do not think of all you will do during the whole time of your office; but go from day to day fulfilling your charge without increasing your solicitude, since your heavenly Father who has care today will have care tomorrow, and, after tomorrow, of your guidance, in proportion as, knowing your infirmity, you hope only in his providence." Yet divine help is not always given immediately or in the way requested. God acts as He sees fit, and the superior must wait His aid with both patience and courage. "But to work well in this business, 'there is needed an un-conquerable courage and the awaiting of the fruit in patience." In many of his directives to superiors, St. Francis de Sales urges sweetness and mildness. This is equivalent to advising con-trol of anger, which arises as a reaction against some hindrance to one's own will. Under its influence one may unduly assert a per-sonal course of action without consideration of the harm done to the feelings of others. For example, improper anger may spring up when a superior sees a subject violating the Rule or guilty of some fault worthy of reproof. St. Francis warns against correc-tion through ill-controlled anger, pointing out that by it the weak may be discouraged and 'that mildness .itself is more efficacious. "But still, as you know, while remonstrating earnestly, you must use love and sweetness; for admonitions have a better effect so; and, otherwise, one might drive away these somewhat feeble hearts." Furthermore, the saint advises the superior to show special atten-tion to those who commit faults and to rely on the help of Christ and of Mary in this task of exercising mildness towards the neigh-bor. "Be .very tender with regard to those who are more imperfect, to help them profit by their imperfection. Bear in ~mind that a very impure soul can attain a perfect purity if well assisted . Note that those who have the greatest number of bad inclinations are those who can reach a greater perfection." "Do not get angry; . . . recognize that our Lord and our Lady, having laid upon you the 19 EDWARDJ. CARNEY Reoiew [or Religious distraction of the house, know well and see that you are disturbed therein; but they do not cease to love you provided that you are humble and trustful." Discouragement, arising when some hoped-for good seems un-attainable, may afflict the one in charge of the community. St. Francis mentions some examples of this trouble. One deals with the impatience of the superior who, wishing the community to ad-vance in the spiritual life too quickly, becomes downcast when im-perfections still remain. Progress, of course, must always be made, but gradually; and minor imperfections do not detract from the essential beauty of a good work. "That there have been-some acts of impatience, immortification, disdain, disobedience, self-love cer-tainly cannot be denied; still, for all that, the substance of the af-fair does not cease to be good and according to God's will. All the defects which occur in a good work do not spoil its essential goodness." Another source of discouragement to superiors is the criticism directed against them. St. Francis de Sales counsels against too great sensitivity, pointing out that the occasions which give rise to com-plaint are often insignificant, advising consultation with one's coun-selors and complete trust in God's providence. "Take good care not to fall into any discouragement when you are murmured at or criticized a little. No, my dear daughter; for I assure you that the business of finding fault is very easy and that of doing better very 'difficult. There needs but very little ability to find fault, and something to talk about, in those who govern or in their govern-ment; ¯ and, when someone reproves us or points out to us the im-perfections in our conduct, we ought to listen quietly to it all: then lay it before God, and take counsel with our assistant sisters; and after that do what is considered best, with a holy confidence that God will bring all to His glory." Insofar as possible the saint would have the superior remove any objective reason for such criti-cism. "The diligence of superiors ought to be great in applying a remedy to the very lightest murmurings of the community. For, as great storms are formed by invisible vapors, so in religion great troubles come from very light causes." There are, of course, many other types of discouragement in a superior's life; and sometimes these contribute towards a desire for removal from office even before expiration of term. To seek such an escape may be equivalent to manifesting insufficient trust in divine providence. No longer relying on God, the superior turns 2O danuar~t, 1955 FRANCIS DE SALES' ADVICE to self and to other human' beings--means always inadequate. A wish for relief from the burdens of the superiorsbip arises. In such a case St. Francis de Sales would recommend humility and confidence, in God's providence. Humility leads one to recognize that through self nothing can be achieved. Trust in divine providence brings the recognition that through God much is possible. To a superior in such a state of mind, St. Francis sent the following words: "Remain at peace then, my dear daughter; be a mother, and a good mother, as long as God shall so ordain." In moments of discouragement the one in authority may wonder to what degree the natural affection of the subjects is possessed. St. Francis would have the superior avoid" such a consideration and simply serve God courageously in all events. "I do not want you to be so tender, but like a strong woman to serve God with a good courage, looking at Him alone; and, therefore, when those thoughts as to whether people like you or not come into your mind, do not even look at them, assuring yourself that they will always like you as much as God wills." " Since human nature is weak and subject to failure, it would be very difficult to achieve a complete control of the emotions. Thus, the superior may be shaken with internal worry, anger, and dis-couragement. However, St. Francis de Sales does advise an external appearance of calm and peace in spite of thes~ inward troubles. "Take great care to maintain your exterior in a holy equableness. And if you have any trouble in your mind, let it not appear outside." The emotional stress present in everyday life may from time to time increase. If it does, a common difficulty is possible. The practical judgment ldecomes faulty, and suspicion enters into the evaluation of persons and situations. Proper relaxation and or-dinary care of health are helpful preventives. Thus, St. Francis counsels a superior "not to be overcharged with excessive care." To another he writes: "Take care of your health that it may serve you to serve God." Ex&ssive austerities may likewise be injurious to health and judg-ment. "To eat little, work hard, have much worry of mind, and refuse sleep to the body is to get much work out of a horse which is in poor condition without feeding him up." Without depreci-ating the vhlue of external mortification--always to be regulated by the Rule~t. Francis was of the belief that the interior repres-sion of the passions and the cultivation of the corresponding vir-tues are of more importance. "Do not burden yourself with too 21 EDWARDJ. CARNEY many vigils and austerities, my dear daughter; for I know well what I am saying in this. But go to the ro~tal port of the religious life by the royal road of the love of God and your neighbor, of humility and gentleness." "For my part, I should greatly approve that you do nothing but simply follow the community in all things, whether in mortifications or in whatever it may be. It seems to me that it ought to be the principal practice of a superior, this going before her daughters in the simplicity of doing neither more nor less than they do. For this causes her to be greatly loved, and marvelously keeps the spirit of her daughters in peace." Another of St. Francis' recommendations to superiors is an at-titude of peace and joy, even in the midst of troubles. Union with God is the source of such optimism. "And in all events it behooves to remain at peace in the will of God, for which ours is made." "Take care to preserve the peace and tranquility of your heart; let the waves growl and roll all around about your back, and fear not; for God is there: and, by consequence, safety." A consideration of heavenly reward also contributes towards this spirit of tranquillity. "My dear daughter, you are a spouse, not as yet of Jesus Christ glorified, but of Jesus Christ crucified; for which cause° the rings, the rich chains, and ornaments which He gives you, and which He wants you to wear, are crosses, nails, and thorns; and the marriage feast is gall, hyssop, and vinegar. In heaven above we shall have the rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, the wine, manna, and honey." . (To be continued.) BACK NUMBERS AVAILABLE Complete sets of back numbers are available for 1948, 1949, 1951, 1952, 1953, and 1954. The sets for each of these years sell at $3.00 for the United States and Possessions, and Canada; all other countries, $3.35. Individu'al copies of the following are still available at 50 cents per copy in the United States and Possessions, and Canada; all other countries, 60 cents each. 1943--January. 1944--January, March, May. 1945--November. 1946--'july. 1947--,Jan., May, July, Sept., Nov. 1948--Jan., May, ,July, Sept., Nov. 1949--March, May, July, Sept., Nov. 1950--March, Sept., Nov. 1951--March, May, July, Sept. 1952--March, May, July, Sept., Nov. 1953--Jan., March, May, July, Sept. 1954--A11 numbers. Please order from our business ot~ce in T6peka, and enclose check or postal money order to cover the amount. Postage will be paid by us. Address: Back Numbers Department Review for Religious 606 Harrison Street Topeka, Kansas 22 Though!:s on t:he Cont:empla ive Lit:e Mother M. Immaculata, P.C. IN view of the great mass of literature by both ancient and modern writers on the subject of contemplation, the title might indicate an unnecessary addencluro! Yet, while it is certainly true that the growing interest of our own age in the subject of contemplation has occasioned a new influx of books on the sub-ject, it remains a fact that much of that interest is mere curiosity, the seeking after something occult or thrilling, and that souls who are earnestly seeking something to satisfy the insatiable hunger left in them after earthly pleasures have waned remain in a state of confused uncertainty about the meaning of total renunciation and union with God in solitude. Contemplation has become al-most a byword of our generation. How many really know what it means? Words nowhere display their inadequacy so completely as when one must use them in writing of contemplative union with God. The greatest contemplative will always be the Virgin Mother of God; yet she has left us no words with which to teach us, save only that her soul magnified the Lord and that she rejoiced in Him. Nothing of the darkness, suffering, and desolation which were hers as coredemptrix has come down to us in words, save that cry which was wrung from. her Immaculate Heart on the one occasion on which we know she spoke to her divine son: "Son, why hast Thou done so to us?" Before any words were coined, before the creation of the ma-terial world, the contemplative spirit lived in heaven where the seraphim and cherubim lay in prostrate adoration before the most Holy Trinity in a state of overflowing bliss. These were the first contemplatives, whom we hope one day to join. There were contemplatives in the Old Testament, but 'fear dominated their souls as much as love did. Surely Isaias, behold-ing in spirit the virgin birth of Christ and then that same Redeemer reduced to utter ignominy, was a contemplative. Yet it required the love of our Redeemer Himself to establish .the full contemplative life in His Church, beginning it with the first and greatest con-templative vocation: that given to His own Blessed and Immaculate Mother. Can we imagine a more perfect house of contemplation 23 MOTHER M. IMMACULATA Review for Religious than that of Zachary and Elizabeth, when our Blessed Lady, the very tabernacle of the world's Savior, went about the humble house-hold duties in silent and joyous contemplation of the God within her, who, her duties completed, joined with her aged cousin in prayer and the chanting of the psalms, those mystic songs which even today form the choir prayer of contemplative communities throughout the world? The apostles, whose days were a succession of sufferings, hard-ships, and failures in the building up of the Mystical Body of Christ, were truly contemplative. What better proof of this than St. Paul's words: "'Mibi enim vivere Cbristus est!'" Down. through the centuries, the Church has fully recognized the value of the con-templative life of union with God; in the complex existence of our modern age, she still jealously guards the contemplative spirit which seems--only seems!--to have become rare. When we consider the persecutions which the Bride of Christ is undergoing in our "enlightened" age, I am inclined to make the bold statement that the martyred bishops, priests, religious, and faithful who have bravely confessed Christ by suffering and dying in physical and mental torture under Communistic rule are true con-templatives. As a case in point, we might mention Maryknoll's Bishop Ford, who had a truly contemplative spirit. He is only one of those whose union with, and love for, our Redeemer grew to such proportions, that the tortures and martyrdom he endured must have left only a diaphanous veil between him and the unseen world which is so very real to every contemplative soul. Prayer to a contemplative who has lived the life for forty years is undoubtedly different from the prayer that is essential to any religious or from the prayer of the young and inexperienced nun. There are active religious whose prayer is truly contemplative. Nor is the contemplative vocation given to anyone in its fullness at a given time. Often it seems to be taken for granted that entrance into a contemplative cloistered community "makes" the contemplative. Progression is thought to be a part of the contemplative life; ~ve are born, not made, by grace! Yet, if there is any vocation where a slow and persistent progress is the norm, it most certainly is the vocation of the contemplative. What does the adolescent boy or girl bIessed with a call to the Iife of contemplation know of the life of interior union with God? He or she has God's summons and the virgin soil for His planting; that is all. Gradual growth to maturity, integrity, spiritual strength is as much a part of the 24 ,lanuary, 1955 THOUGHTS ON THE CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE contemplative life as is the growth of an infant to manhood. Neither is it a painless growth! Death of self by continual self-ab-negation and self-effacement is the only really effective process of spiritual growth. And it is never painless! Passive acceptance of God's active and permissive will demands steadfast adhesion to His love. It is not easy.I have seen a leaflet which explained how easy it is to be a saint. In point of fact, sanctity "comes easy" to no one. We are members of a fallen race. Unless there be a steady spiritual progress, the contemplative can, and most certainly will, settle down into a mediocrity which is likely to become a hopeless stagnation. With no specialized ac-tivity, such as the outward apostolate imposes on souls and which brings a certain responsibility, the contemplative can settle into a groove of mediocrity and remain undisturbed in it, rousing her-self only on occasions which become more far-spaced. She can go on through life failing to accept the graces which could lead her to the most intimate union with God, until she finally must appear before Him quite empty handed, since she performed no outward work of the apostolate and only stood still on the high road into which He had beckoned her. If the greatest contemplative of all times, the spotless taber-nacle of God's humanity, mounted to an ever-higher sanctity all her life by the ladder of suffering and sorrow, can we who have inherited from our fallen first parents a constant down-drag of nature think to acquire a painless sanctity? We know that the sorrows of our Lady marked the highest flights of her peerless holi-ness~ until the day when the longing of her Immaculate Heart for eternal union with her divine son burned out the last throbbings of her heart and broke it with love. Although poles removed from Mary, we still may, and can, reach out for a union with God as uninterrupted as a creature's can be. Amidst the duties, trials, joys, and sufferings of daily life, our union can, and should, grow, wherever the call of God may have summoned us. If this is true of the active apostolate, and who will say it is not, how much more of the contemplative? But only too often we mistake true values in our daily lives. We certainly do not look for the fleeting pleasures of the world. We do. not want them; we would not enjoy them. Yet we. often look for peaceful hours of prayer, serene living with our fellow religious, untroubled lives as essential to our growth in union with God. Actually, ,it' is the sufferings, spi~ritual and physical, the little annoyances, Of 25 MOTHER M. IMMACULATA Review [or Religious community life, self-denial in our daily duties, and especially the little misunderstandings, misinterpretations of our Words and ac-tions, the setting aside by others of what we regard as so important that bring us to spiritual maturity and closest union with our divine Spouse. The things that so persistently tend to efface self and re-quire a self-abnegation which often shrivels our hearts, though those around us know nothing of it, are the things that indeed can, and do, lift us to a union with our Beloved as no peaceful prayer can. Only the passive acceptance of God's will can ever give us deep interior peace; and this kind of peace is an absolute requisite for true holiness. Faith grows deeper, more seemingly tangible, in the soul whose prayer becomes ever more uninterrupted. And .every true contem-plative will strive to live more and more in this atmgsphere of true peace which, whether accompanied by sufferings great or small, is union with God. If our Lady's prayer supported the infant Church, it was because her power consisted as much in her ardent love for, and union with, the divine will as in her prerogative as mother of 3esus. The power of the prayer of any contemplative, whether offered in the cloister of a monastery or in the de~ert of the world, is measured by the degree of loving, uninterrupted union with God in the fulfillment of His divine will, rather than by the number of bouts spent on one's knees and the number of penances performed. I have said that the unseen world of faith is very real to the contemplative. Only hearts tbat can envision more than the ma-terial and accidental above them know the true value of those very things. When the apostles knew our divine Lord only from His external words and actions, even witnessing His miracles, they still .knew Him only slightly. But after they bad passed through the darkness of Calvary, bad experienced the loss of everything, and realized their own littleness and cowardice did they begin to see Him as the true Son of God. To see ourselves as mean and ignoble, to know ourselves quite capable of any sin is the beginning--gnly the beginning!---of bumilil~y. And without humility there is no union with God. "He resistetb the proud." Before the apostles had experienced the depth of their own weakness, they were all ready to boast with Peter: "Not I, Lord! . Never will I betray Thee!" The contemplative who fancies herself above the weaknesses of others, wbo pretends to a refined scandalization at the faults of others, shows bet own immaturity in the contemplative life. The 26 Januar~t, 1955 THOUGHTS ON THE CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE great contemplative Teresa of Avila has said that true charity is never surprised at the faults of others. When the apostles had tasted the bitterness of their own weakness, they became fit instruments for the grace of God. The contemplative who has acquired enough self~knowledge to elevate herself above no one is ripe fruit for God's plucking. Standing in darkness, we begin to see into the "world intangible" and to understand true values. The occasions for self-abnegation which come to us can be grasped and taken in swiftdecision when we live in the unseen world where we know the Bridegroom of our soul watches. He upholds us, accepts with a loving hand the seem-ing trifles which the soul gives Him. One day she will find them again in that same loving hand and realize how great a value He has set upon her hidden gifts. Only in the unseen world are her actions fully evaluated, unmistakably understood; and her convic-tion increases that only in that darkness does true light come to her since there alone she sees all, not in the external passing of each action, but in the eternal value of it. The invisible grandeurs of the Christ-life in the soul and in the Church are little realized, though the faithful sometimes catch a rumor of them in solemn liturgical functions. But the eternal values of the unseen world are truly ours; ~and, when we live with ever-growing conviction of the glory and strength hidden beneath external actions of each hidden soul, we have come into true riches. We should not forget that the real mystic is one who is so per-fect an instrument in God's hand that in her highest activity she is 'still closely and passively united to Him, humbly allowing Him to do what He wills with her and humbly "following His will inher every action. That is union with God indeed. Holiness which wants to appear, to make an impression, is not holiness at all. Exter-nal signs of sanctity are not themselves holiness. Their interior cause is holiness in truth. We must strive to be so perfect an instrument in God's hand that He can do what He wills with us or do nothing at all with us if He so chooses. Perhaps this latter is the most ex-quisite form of a soul's acceptance of God's will. Is, then, all our union With God to be centered upon suffering and mortification? Assuredly not. The soul that thoroughly grasps the importance of being lovingly passive in God's hand can afford to be active; for her, prayer accompanies and informs all her actions. Her work is prayer, sprin.ging out of the intense prayer of her hours before the Blessed Sacrament, her chanting of the Divine 27-, MOTHER M. IMMACULATA O~ce, etc. Prayer and work and suffering form the great trilogy of .the contemplative's love of God. In the perfection of contempla-tion, they lose.their separate identities. Only the soul of prayer can make work a prolongation of prayer. Only the soul of such uni-versal prayer is equipped to suffer. Francis Thompson's words in "The Hound of Heaven"-- "Must Thy harvest fields be dunged with rotten death?"-~hold a depth of meaning almost unfathomable. How truly the fields of our kouls are fertilized with the death of self in the daily acceptance of all that so often appears trivial and yet is so searing to our souls. It was another poet who spoke those marvelous words of the Church's greatest lover who had learned that "Love must burn e'er it con-sumes." It is the searing of our self-will which is the mortification spiritual writers speak of as the most important requisite for interior prayer. The disciplining of our hearts in their desires and attach-ments is what constitutes this necessary mortification, not the little exterior mortifications we impose upon ourselves and which often wonderfully flatter our pride. To be able to unshackle ourselves from our attachment to ourselves, our ideas, our plans, our petti-ness, which makes us pity ourselves over every little real or imagined neglect or grievance, is to leave ourselves free and in such liberty of spirit that the Holy Spirit may make the tender chords of our souls vibrate with the music of interior and uninterrupted prayer. Thus will our souls bask in the light of truth: the truth about ourselves which is humbling and salutary; the truth about God, our lover and beloved, which exalts us. I can only repeat the words which God has used to bring strength to a teaching sister who so' graciously expressed her gratitude: It is not the things which en-rich us, but the things which efface us, which lead us steadily up-ward to closer union with God, our heart's beloved. APOSTOLATE OF THE PRESS We have received two booklets--A Brief History of the Daughters of St. Paul and God Gave This Modern World a Modern Religious Congregation--which de-scribe the founding and work of the Daughters of St. Paul. The special mission of this institute is the apostolate of "the editions"--that is, of press, screen, radio, etc. The sisters publish books, newspapers, magazines, etc. They themselves do the printing--from typesetting to binding; and they diffuse this material by direct distribution and by founding traveling libraries and bookstores. The institute, founded in Italy in 1915, was first established in the United States in 1932, at Staten Island, New York. Besides this original foundation, the sisters now have convents in Derby, N. Y. ; Boston, Mass. ; San antoni~o, Texas; Youngstown, Ohio; Alexandria, La. 28 Longevity Religious Women Sister Josephina, C.S.3. THE question often arises pertaining to the years of service in a given religious community. A study was made of the longev-ity of a community of men by Schnepp and Kurz.1 The study embraced 2,380 members of the Marianist order from 1819 to 1951. The mean ayeat death for religious men', according to the above study, was 55.7 years with a standard deviation of 22.4 years. The median age was 61.5 years. In order to compare similar data for women religious, necroiogy data were obtained from two religious communities for women, one in the eastern.part of the United States and the other situated in the midwest. The geographical sampling was felt adequate as the midwestern community reached as far north as Minnesota, west to California, and south to Texas. The two communities supplied for the period 1925 to 1950 the number of religious who died during each year, age at entrance, age at death, and type of work done in the community. For convenience the work was placed in two categories: teaching and housekeeping. To safeguard the iden-tity of the communities, they shall be called Group A and Group B. Both communities are the same in essence as having the same foundress. However, each is independent, with its own provincial and council. Group A numbered 1"81 religious who died in the period from ¯ 1925-1950, of whom 132 were teachers and 49 were non-teachers. Group B numbered 197 deceased members of whom 156 were teachers and 41 non-teachers. The actual number of religious of each community is approximately the same. Table i presents data related to the average age at entrance into the community. The range for both groups was from 14 to 50 years with a mean entrance age of 25.32 years. An important consideration is the actual number of years spent in the religious community. This was obtainedby subtracting the entrance age from the age at death for each member in the study. Table 2 presents the summary for this information. The average age at death was the final aspect of the study. Table 3 summgrizes the evidence for the groups. ZGerald J. Schnepp, S.M., and John T. Kurz, S.M.: "Length of Life of Religious Men: Marianists, 1820-1951," REVIEW FORRELIGIOUS, XII (Jan., 1953), 15-20. 29 SISTER JOSEPHINA TABLE I: AVERAGE AGE AT GROUP N A-~Teachers . 132 Non-Teachers . 49 B--Teachers . 156 Non-Teachers . 41 A ~d B--Teachers . 288 A ~ B--Non-Teachers. 90 A £d B--Teachers and Non-Teachers. 378 ENTRANCE MEASURE MEAN S. D 22.18 4.4 25.72 5.0 24.0 5.0 26.5 4.6 23.3 5.4 24.22 4.8 25.32 5.42 TABLE 2 : GROUP MEAN NUMBER OF YEARS IN RELIGION N MEASURE MEAN S. D A--Teachers . 132 44.4 15.95 Non-Teachers . 49 41.9. 15.95 B--Teachers . 156 34.3 17.25 Non-Teachers . 41 39.95 12.00 A 24 B--Teachers . 288 38.45 17.40 A 24 B~Non-Teachers. 90 41.05 14.70 A ~ B--Teachers and Non-Teachers. 378 38.45 16.65 TABLE 3: AVERAGE AGE AT DEATH GROUP N A-~Teachers . 132 Non-Teachers . 49 B--Teachers . 156 Non-Teachers . 41 A 24 B--Teachers . 288 A ~ B-~Non-Teachers. 90 A ~ B---Teachers and Non-Teachers. "378 MEASURE MEAN S. D 65.85 15.50 67.35 14.25 58.35 17.10 66.75 12.50 63.10 16.95 67.65 13.35 62.76 16.45 Comparing the total average age of women religious 62.75 years with the total average age of religious men 55.7, one may as-sume that religious women have a longer life Span than do religious men. However, the span for the study by Schnepp and Kurz em-braced the years 1819-1951 and the present study the years 1925- 1950. Medical science has made significant advances during the past quarter of a century which no doubt account in part for the longer life span of the religious women ificluded in this survey. 30 The story of the foundress of the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor. /V ot:her Mary Walsh Sister Mary Teresita, O.P. sISTER MARY sat down at the old pine table that served as her desk to write a letter to a friend. It was late October, 1887. The little group of lay tertiaries of, which she was the head was still very small. Katie .Barrett, her companion of the first strenuous years, the sharer ot~ her brightest hopes and dreams, had just left her after nine years together. Katie was tired out from the exhausting physical labors required of her, and the enthusiasm which had been hers in the beginning had now turned into dissatisfaction and discontent. Many years later Katie Barrett would re-enter Mary Walsh's life, bringing sorrow and an almost unbearable trial. On this day Mary Walsh could only look back. If she could have foreseen the future, she would have rejoiced; for that little group would some day be known as the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor and would achieve her cherished hopes and ideals, nursing the sick poor from eleven convents in various cities throughout the country. She thought of her birth in London and her quick exodus from there after the death of her parents from black diphtheria. The memories of her childhood were indeed pleasant as she mentally relived those happy times with her grandmother in County Limerick, Ireland. As a child she was affectionate and intelligent, quick and lively with many charming ways--and others perhaps not quite so charming; for her temper was as quick as her affections and her dislikes as decisive as her busy and curious little mind. When she was eighteen, her grandmother died; and she had to face the problem of making her own living either there or elsewhere. She decided to leave for the United States at the earliest opportunity. She arrived in this country as a ward of her uncle, who took her to live with his family in Philadelphia. Emerging a year later as a young wo-man of poise and grace, of gentle dignity, of chaste and joyous charm, but with limited educational benefits, she decided to try her fortune in New York where so many others of her race had sought a live-lihood. Securing employment as a laundress, she lived alone and friendless in a big and noisy city, endearing herself everywhere with her simplicity and inner peace. 31 SISTER J~IARY TERESITA Review [or Religious She remembered especially an August morning in 1876, not long after her arrival in the metropolis. The morning dawned, bringing with it the threat of showers, as dark, restless clouds scurried across the gray sky. She was hurrying along the streets of New York's lower East Side intent on the day's work. A child's pitiful cry emanating from a nearby tenement arrested her attention. Mary's response to the child's mournful plea of, "My mother's .sick, and I don't know what to do," was to reassure her gently and follow her up the rickety steps to a foul-smelling, unkempt one-room apartment. Filled with mixed emotions of sadness and anger at the sight that greeted her, and despite the disconcerting dryness in her throat, she managed to utter a few comforting words to the young mother who lay in the corner almost unconscious, with a dead infant at her side. Fright was mirrored in the stricken eyes of several other youngsters who stood huddled against a nearby wall. This stranger's unmistakable sincerity and personal interest in their welfare made a deep impression on the Dunne's; and, be-fore many .days had passed, the sick mother's spirits were soon revived. In the meantime, however, Mary found" herself unemployed. Taking care of the Dunne family all day long had necessitated neglect of the laundry work by which she made her living. When con-fronted with an ultimatum by her employer, her conscience and the dictates of charity left her only one choice. She would continue caring for this poor family that was on the brink of disaster both spiritually and materially, and God would take care of her. For choosing thus, she was to exclaim in later years, "I knew that day that hereafter I was to give whatever I had to those poorer than I. I said to myself, That's to be your life, Mary Walsb, to give what you have to the poor." At times the magnitude of the offering and the arduousness of the sacrifices ahead would almost overwhelm her, but she would never waver. Almost in a single focal point her inner desires came to bear with sharp intensity. Briefly and most effectively her new career was launched. This incident was to influence her whole life. Though not conscious of it, at that time she was laying the foundation of her real vocation as a benefactress and friend of Christ's sick poor, no matter what race, creed, or color. It-was amazing with 'what alacrity the local tradesmen were willing and eager to help this young woman in black. Though a stranger to most of them, her genuine honesty and simple eloquence won their support. The candor in her eager 32 Januarg, 1955 MOTHER MARY WALSH ~yes, the enviable integrity which her strong features displayed,, and her cheerful disposition enabled this obscure young laundress to effect an immediate and overwhelming response from everyone to whom she appealed. That was in 1878; and that was when the thought struck her that perhaps there might be other young women who would, if made aware of the appalling misery in their midst, help to alleviate it. It was then that Katie Barrett, with an enthusiasm as eager as her own, joined her; and together they began the work of nursing the sick poor in their neighborhood. She herself recalled this period in later years when talking to the sisters. "We lived on the West Side in two rooms on the top floor for two years. We went there late in 1879. We worked insofar as it was pgssible, i.e., only the first three days of every week, in order to spend the rest of the week among our beloved poor. We did laundry work--washing and ironing--in our own little flat. It was hard to maintain an even division of time, because often we couldn't get the clothes dry or laundry bundles were larger than we expected; and we were urged to accept more washing than we could take care of. That was a temptation of no mean size, for we needed the money desperately. We worked to earn money to pay our rent and food and to buy supplies for the poor and sick, for our begging campaign could not take care of the .many needs. We saw so many people who were in greater need of food than we were that we could enjoy our humble fare much better when we shared it. Many a/time we had only bread and water and enjoyed it. Our plain black dresses and the large wicker basket that we carried soon became symbols of begging in the neighborhood." Now, in 1887, Sister Mary was writing to Father Nevins, the spiritual director of her little group, to tell him that Katie had left them, It was hard for her to understand Katie's attitude because her own love for the sick poor had increased a hundredfold during the years. Father Aloysius Russell Nevins, C.S.P., had assumed the direc-tion of the little group only a few years before, but he knew the few tertiaries quite intimately, and Katie's defection was a sad blow for him also. His invaluable advice and counsels were a great'bul-wark in those early days when so many of the clergy regarded Mary Walsh as an impractical visionary. They would denounce her as trying to effect a century of progress in a decade. Amazing indeed ,were the results she accomplished in spite of these many handicaps 33 SISTER MARY TERESITA Review/:or Religious and setbacks. The years began to pass by more rapidly. Her days were even more crowded with work and responsibilities. Her health was grad-ually weakening, too; but she paid no attention to it, for, as a Ter-tiary of the Dominican Order, her increasing pains and difficult vision could not prevent attendance at her religious exercises and at her work. Meanwhile, the little band had grown quickly and just as quickly had dwindled. The utter poverty, physical hard-ships, and the rigors of religious life without the compensations afforded by a recognized order proved to be too ~nuch for the many, young enthusiasts who tried to live the life. Some twenty years later, in 1900, Si'ster Mary found herself with still only one com-panion, little Sister Teresa as she affectionately called the young sister who was in delicate health. When she was only five years old, Sister Teresa had come to live with Sister Mary. An aged uncle bad become Teresa's guardian at the death of bet parents, and she lived with him over a year when his health began to fail. It was the uncle's urgent request to Sister Mary, who bad been nurs-ing him through his last illness, that she take and care for the little girl. This Sister Mary did; and the playful, joyous, though always delicate youngster grew up sharing the sisters' life of poverty and hardship. Her one ambition was to become one of "Sister Mary's Sisters" when she was of age. This she did and chose the name of Sister Teresa. Though only eighteen at this time, she was a source of joy and consolation to Sister Mary in the dark and somewhat ominous days they 'shared. The turn of the century ushered in renewed hope and increased life through a transfusion of young, fresh blood into the hardened arteries of the struggling group. Upon the death of Father Nevins, ¯ the Reverend Peter J. O'Callaghan, C.S.P., became the spiritual guide of the little band. With flashing blue eyes and a firm, strong mouth which knew no indecision, Father O'Callaghan's very ap-pearance disseminated vigor and enthusiasm. Together they dis-cussed the possibilities and hopes for Sister Mary's work and the eventuality of becoming a recognized branch of the Church's fam-ily. Though Father O'Callaghan was sixteen years her junior, Sister Mary accepted him as her spiritual superior and would always ac-cept his counsels and advice as the word of God in her behalf, though in a short wh.ile that voice would assume a harsh note and force her into disharmony with her beloved community. In 1903, Sister Mary received an application from a young wo- 34 danuar~, 1955 MOTHER MARY WALSH man who she realized was no ordinary aspirant. In explaining the work and ideals of the community to Miss Brown, she stressed their extreme poverty. To the former school teacher she said, "We nurse the sick poor in their own homes. We accept no money for our work, and we make no distinction among our patients. Their color, religion, or lack of it, is no barrier to our services. You must know that we are very poor ourselves and live by the charity of others." The newcomer listened attentively and expressed her willing-ness to share their life. Elation and gratitude filled the heart of Sister Mary, for here was a candidate with the advantages of a good education and many friends in the neighborhood and who could do much to make known the plight of the sick poor. Within two months the infectious personality of Sister Annette, as she was called, bad gained for her the love and esteem of all the sisters, especially Sister Mary and Father O'Callagha9, who were quick to appraise the talents of this newcomer. Her business acumen was remarkable: and it is, therefore, not hard to understand that she was appointed treasurer of the group in such a short time. Realizing l~er capabilities and the respect she had won for herself both in religious and business matters and thinking of the advance-ment of the community, Sister Mary approached Father O'Callaghan and with characteristic humility suggested that Sister Annette be named superior in her stead. At first he was much abashed at such a precedent, but Sister Mary's persuasive humility and depth of sincerity won his approval. Thus in March of 1903, only a few months after her entrance, Sister Annette was appointed superior and Mary Walsh, after twenty-seven years of hard work, humbly and joyfully submitted to this woman of fresh ideas and hearten-ing determination. On that day a new page was written in the his-tory of the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor. Prestige and authority show a person's character in its true light. They give rise to the best and the worst in an individual, and at times to a little of both. The fact that Sister Annette was only three months in the community at the time of her appointment gives credence to the forcefulness of her personality. Her auspicious rise in power was recognized by all as something unique. As far as her administrative abilities were concerned, she proved to be all and even more than they had hoped for. It can be said that she accomplished much for the good of the litt!e group and procured many influential friends for it who were to prove lifetime benefactors. However, the qualities which in previous months bad attracted her to the foundre~s, 35 SISTER MARY TERESITA Review for Religious Sister Mary, now only repelled and annoyed her. Sister's unaffected humility she shrugged off as diffidence and timidity, and her ideas and suggestions were relegated to "those belonging to another .era." Subtly, she contrasted the hardships and burdens of Sister Mary's regime with the efficiency of her own. Her host of wealthy friends had been able to help the community a great deal in financial mat-ters. Unfortunately, however, things were not all as they appeared to be on the surface, for Sister Annette had fallen victim to a strange illness. Refusing medicaI attention, she would retire to her room for days at a time; and then as suddenly as it had come on the ill-ness would leave and once again she would be her old self. Sister Mary's keen mind appraised the situation; and, after long and prayerful deliberation, she decided to make known her fears to Father O'Callaghan. She was sure that Sister Annette had fallen prey to an indiscreet use of the narcotics to which she had access. Though at first she used them cautiously, as time progressed and her resistance was weakened, she succumbed to them completely. The mainspring of Sister Mary'scharacter was a dogged, stub-born, self-willed courage. Fired with love for her community, she presented the facts to Father O'Callaghan. Sister Mary knew that it would be di~cult to tell him these things, for the priest had the greatest admiration and respect for Sister Annette, but she never dreamed what the outcome would be. The priest listened quietly, his burning blue eyes showing their disbelief, his stern profile slightly contemptuous and his voice calm but openly rebuffing her. Yet, she found herself speaking with a calmness to match his own, which was astonishing in the face of such a grave situation. He could not believe that Sister M~ry was capable of harboring such uncharitable thoughts, and in no uncertain terms he made his position clear. It was his opinion that Sister Mary was unduly critical and perhaps regretful of her lost authority. It was true that it was at her own suggestion that Sister Annette assumed of-rice, but perhaps now she wanted it back. With eyes lowered and a heavy heart, Sister Mary replied slowly and placidly, "I want the best thing.for the community now as. always. I have .told you the truth with the good of the community and nothing else in mind." Father O'Callaghan, too, wanted the best thing for the com-munity, but it was very hard for him to accept this strange story, and he thought that perhaps it might be Sister Mary, herself, who was sick. Partial blindness had been threatening her for some time 36 #anuarg, 1955 MOTHER MARYWALsH now; and the years of exhausting, body-bending and heart-break-ing work had no doubt exacted their toll. Always quick to ~each a decision, he flatly stated that as her spiritual director, he advised that she leave her community for an. indefinite time. Confirmed in strength that was not and never could be her own, she asked, "Father, where am I to go?" "To St. Michael's Villa in Englewood, N. J. The Sist'ers of St. Joseph of Peace are in charge. I shall arrange that you will have a private room and you will be responsible only to me." "How long will that be?" she inquired. "For a year at least." And continuing, he added, "I impose silence on you in all matters pertaining to the community." The crucible of adversity and sufferings, misunderstanding, and rebuttals was to claim Mary Walsh for its own. No saint ever.went through this life without realizing the inseparable connection be-tween the cross here and the crown hereafter. Few were giyen more opportunities than Sister Mary to m~ake a perfect con, nection. Arriving at the lonely station in Huntsville, Sister Mary looked in vain for someone to direct her to St. Michael's Villa. The station was empty though, and tears o~ loneliness welled up within her. As she began the long walk to the Villa; however, the. fund of divine grace, accumulated through the years, began to shine through. She felt the peace of Christ flood her with strength and acquiescence, with consent and joy. The flow of tears ceased, and she went on from the station more tranquil and freed from the nervousness and strain of this severe trial. A brief excerpt from her little notebook revealLher inner sentiments: "Oct. 6, 1903--Sent out of my home. God forgive my sister. God forgive my sister. I arrived in Huntsville, could get no carriage. Had to walk one and one-half miles through a lonely wood with my little bag and bundle. I felt the weight of them so much, but I thought of our Lord carrying His cross. I felt the bitterness of exile. How good God is to bring me to live with Himself when I am driven out of my own home. It is very lonely but God is here and that is the best of all.'.' Another disappointment soon befell her. Father O'Callaghan, the man who had sent her on her via dolorosa, was taken from her. For years now the sisters had benefited from his wisdom and prudence, so it was with deep regret that they learned of his trans-fer to a large parish in Chicago. Sister Mary was perhaps the most deeply affected by this change; for, though their opinions had di- 37 SISTER MARY TERESITA Review/:or Reliqious verged on many questions throughout the years, their souls were kindred spirits, united in tireless love and service to Christ and the sick poor. In later years it was to be said of him that he knew the mind and heart of the foundress better than anyone else. However, he continued to direct Sister Mary by way of the written word, and within a year he sent for her to join him in Chicago. For the remaining years of her exile, she worked as sac-ristan in his parish, living in silence and acute loneliness. Never once did she refer to her little community, which was now a legal cor-poration in the State of New York. Under Sister Annette's super-vision both the personnel and scope of work had expande'd, and the future was beginning to take on a brighter hue. Once again the faultless intuition of Sister Mary, which was bred of faith and true charity, had proven itself. Sister Annette's condition had become markedIy worse and her unfortunate addic-tion to narcotics was beginning to play havoc with the struggling group. Diocesan authorities intervened, and on November 23, 1906, she was admitted to St. Vincent's Retreat, Harrison, N. Y., for psychiatric care. Discharged seven mdnths later as cured, she led an exemplary and truly Christian life until the time of he~ death some twenty-five years later. Immediately, the sisters petitioned Father O'Callaghan for Sister Mary's return. He sent for her at once and, without any reference to her years of unfair exile, stated that she would once again assume command of the community at the request of the sisters and in com-pliance with his own wishes. This she did joyfully and never once alluded to the past. There was only one cloud to darken Sister Mary's homecoming. It was the absence of little Sister Teresa, who had died during Sister Mary's exile. Though the young sister bad written often, she had never once mentioned the serious condition of her health; and her death came as a severe blow to Sister Mary. The task of straightening out the many loose ends which her predecessor had left was a difficult one: but often, when deluged by the multitudinous problems which almost never abated and from which she never flinched, she would seek and find in daily prayer the support and supernatural strength she needed. Soon her charity became a byword in the neighborhood. She was ever ready at a moment's notice to assuage pain, to give advice, and to enter into every trial of those who sought her aid. A soul so richly endowed with the gifts of nature and of grace, as intelligent as she was holy, as cheerful as she was prayerful, as sensible as she was recollected, 38 d'anuar~j, 1955 MOTHER MARY WALSH free from any of the harshness or oddity which tend to make holy people offensive to others, she had the power of attracting souls. It was the ardent desire of Sister Mary to see her little com-nhunity placed on a more stable basis; for she realized that many of the young applicants, so zealous and enthusiastic and full of good will, needed the protection and he.lp of a recognized community as well as the work so dear to them. Toward this end both she and Father O'Callaghan would work indefatigably. It was natural that they would decide to affiliate with the Dominican Order since all of the sisters were Third Order members. Fortunately, Father O'Cal-laghan was able to influence a young Dominican priest in their cause. Father John T. McNicholas, O.P., later Archbishop of Cin-cinnati and lifelong friend of the community, was sympathetic toward the little group: but he xvishedto proceed cautiously. After his first meeting with the foundress, whom he described as a "light that could not be dimmed," he entered into the project wholeheart-edly. Later on he was to say.of Sister Mary: "Her.willingness to wait and her confidence that God would bless her work impressed me beyond measure. I could never forget her firm resolve that her community should accomplish its aim only under the aegis of Saint Dominic." August 4, lC/! 0, feast of St. Dominic, was indeed a day of glad rejoicing; for the long-sought approval had arrived. The Very Reverend Hyacinth Cormier, O.P., Master General of the Dominican Order, who earlier in the struggle had proved himself a staunch supporter of their work, now officially received them into the order. Henceforth they were to be known as the Dominican Sisters of the Sick Poor and were to enjoy all the graces and privileges of St. Dominic's daughters. After several unsuccessful attempts to secure a novice mistress from one of the many Dominican Sisterhoods, Sister Mary finally achieved success when Mother M. Vincentia, O.P., Mother General of the Dominican Sisters of St. Mary of the Springs, Columbus, Ohio, consented to grant a year's leave of absence to Sister M. Fred-erica for that purpose. Father McNicholas inquired somewhat hesi-tantly whether Sister Mary, as superior, was planning to go through the novitiate training with the other sisters. She told him, "I also must learn about the religious life. I, more than the others, need the benefit of that important training." Writing for religious I find it hardly necessary to emphasize the adjustment'necessary for novitiate training. Imagine with what 39 SISTER MARY TERESITA Review for Religious difficulty a woman of sixty years, worn out with the physical and mental hardships of more than thirty years of labor, possessed of an ardent nature and quick temper, had to fight the tiring battle of self-conquest under a loving but strict disciplinarian. With total forgetfulness of self and her infirmities, Sister Mary sought no dis-pensations from the novitiate rules kept by those forty years her junior. No other sister in the whole group was more conscious of her failures and shortcomings. Sister Frederica was later to say of her, "Sister Mary accepted correction better than any other religious I ever knew. I gave her many penances and humiliations, but never once did she show any signs of disobedience or pride. I wonder now how I could have been so strict with her." At this time Sister Mary was a mature woman in her early sixties, disci-plined by years of suffering and pain and tested in the crucible of unjust criticism; but her shining purity of motive, unremitting labor and d~votion in the cause of fostering her work among the poor, her personal humility and austerity made her an example to all the other novices. At the end of the canonical year, Sister Mary asked Father Mc- Nicholas to use his influence in.retaining Sister Frederica for another year as superior and novice mistress. In a somewhat incredulous tone he asked, "Have you not had enough corrections?" "Oh no, Father!" she quickly answered. "Sister Frederica is a wonderful religious. She has had a hard task training us old women. I would like her to continue to act as our superior for another year, directing the lives and exercises of the sisters, as if we were going through the canonical novitiate again." Kindly disposed toward the little community and recognizing the true worth of Sister Frederica's work among them, Mother Vin-centia agreed to the proposal. Rejoicing at their good fortune, Sister Mary expressed herself to Father McNicholas, "We need further trials. We'must be put to further tests if we are to be good religious. As for myself, I know that only in the fire of humiliation can this stubborn will of mine be bent to the yoke of God's will." Perhaps one of the greatest proofs of Mary Walsh's humility are the words of one who tried and tested its worth, her novice mistress. In a conversation with Sister Hyacinth some years later, Sister Frederica said, "You will find that Sister Mary's humility will keep things in balance under all circumstances. It permits her to recognize her. own nothingness in the face of God's perfection. Many read of such humility, but few are privileged to live with it."' 4O Januar~l, 1955 MOTHER MARY' WALSH During these years when Sister Frederica was in charge of the newly formed community, Katie Barrett once again cast her shadow. It was her desire to join the growing community now that it was officially established in the Church. Sister Mary, a novice at the time, referred her to Sister Frederica, who recognized signs of in-stability and rejected the candidate. Katie was annoyed and in-dignant. She went away with great feelings of resentment against Sister Mary, who actually had nothing to do with the decision of Sister Frederica. The years began to pass quickly now, and the fullness of the religious life would help Mary Walsh to make great progress in oyercoming her passionate nature. She was to be sanctified by an intense amount of work and sacrifice. She would have the merit of a life of prayer but not the enjoyment of it, for she would pray by wishing she had more'time to pray. Crosses belong in everyone's life, but in hers they played a major role. Perhaps the greatest cross she would have to bear came to her one night in August, 1913. The sisters were sharing the ~imple joys of St. Dominic's feast day, waiting for Sister Mary to come in from her little office where she was glancing through the mail. The sight of a familiar handwrit-ing staitled her with surprise, and eagerly she tore open the letter to see What Katie Barrett bad to say. In this fateful letter Sister Mary read the horrifying accusation that she was the mother of the little orphan girl who later had become Sister Teresa and had shared Sister Mary's work among the sick poor until her death. Katie also stated that this information had been sent to the Arch-bishop of New York and the Dominican provincial. Unrestrainedly Sister Mary wept. "It doesn't seem possible that Katie could invent this falsehood about me. My poor little com-munity! My dear sisters! Will they, too, suffer from this slander?" But, just as quickly as the tears came, they disappeared, and, reach-ing a decision, she added, "I'll put this in the hands of God. He will protect our community, if it be for His honor and glory. With all my heart and soul I believe that." Sister Mary called Sister Reginald, her assistant, into the office and revealed to her the contents of the letter. After prayerful con-sideration Sister Mary said, "The sisters must not know. God will take care of us. I am not afraid now; and there is only one thing I wish for Katie; if she ever needs us, I hope we will learn of it in time to take care of bet." Sister Mary would never have that opportunity, but fifteen years 41 SISTER MARY TERESITA later one of her spiritual daughters would be summoned to a dreary flat where an elderly lady, poor, sick and alone, suffering from arthritis, was badly in need of care. The patient's name was IZatie Barrett. At first she was hostile and unresponsive, but little by little the warmth of sister's charity melted the cold reserve, and one day she spoke to Sister Concepta with a tone of deep sincerity. "I hurt Sister Mary when I wrote that lie and I did her a great harm. Many times I have been sorry that I ever left her." Shortly after that Katie Barrett died and the sisters rejoiced that they had been able to carry out their foundress' wishes on her behalf. Mother Mary Walsh, as she had been called since her vows in 1912, achieved the goal of her lifetime when she saw her com-munity and its work approved by the Church. Her work, like that of the mustard seed in the gospel, had a humble beginning and grew without exterior display; but, with the grace of the Holy Ghost, it had begun to bear fruit. Before Mother Mary's death in 1922, the community had already made another foundation in New York and one in Columbus, Ohio. Plans were made for the opening of another convent in Denver, Colorado, but the foundress did not live t6 see this eventuate. Here was a woman humble of heart, shrinking from e.xterior glory, and animated by the keenest sense of responsibility. There is an undeviating consistence in her character; and this character crystallized into something compact, disciplined through the years of unremitting sacrifice to the triumph of a cause to which she had so long ago dedicated herself. God had raised her up to found a new body of religious women. For this task she had prepared her-self by first conquering self and by a steadfast faith that never wavered nor lost sight of its motivating drive. All she had to do was become like plastic, pliable material and cast herself in a state of absolute dependence and humility into the beautiful and cruci-fying mold of suffering. This she did admirably. Seeking to un-derstand the hidden part humility played in her life, we look to no better source of information than her own words, "I would rather be able to take humiliation well than to raise the dead to life. If I could raise the dead to life, I might still lose my own soul; but if I became truly humble in all things I am assured of salvation." A Saint:'s Last: Le!:t:er [EDITORS' N&TE: This is the last letter written by St. Gabriel of the Sorrowful~ Mother, the young Passionist saint who died February 27, 1862, and was canon-ized on May 13, 1920, The letter, written at Isola, December 30, 1861, is ad-dressed to his brother, Michael Possenti, who later became a doctor and who, when over eighty years of age, was present at the canonization. Michael kept this letter with him constantly. It was his joy to tell others: "The last expression of his love for Mary. his last call to true beauty', his last good-by' written on earth was for me." The present translation was made by' Father ,John Mary Render, C.P,, of Des Moines, Iowa. The translation was made from Lettere di San Gabriele dell" Ad-dolorata: Santuario S. Gabriele dell' Addolorata (Teramo), 1943, pp. 140-45.] My dear brother, ~received your letter at Christmas and appreciated it. In it you reminded me again that I have not written for a long time. True, but what is there to write? I have no particular news to give you. We live in a solitary spot. No one tells me any news, and I thank God I have no desire to know what goes on in the world. What can I tell you then? What little news I have is passed on to you by Dad to whom I am careful to write from time to time. If I wrote to you, I could only write about things that you know already. Michael! Remember that you cannot serve two masters. No one can be occupied with the world and God. Remember that they are mistaken who think that by practicing some devotions or doing some good works they can be saved, while remaining attached to creatures, amusements, and a goc~d time. You know that Jesus Christ said the way to heaven is straight. And another, time He said: "If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me." I hope that you do not attend the theater, parties, balls, and such things. While you do take part in social life, I hope that you are prudent enough to keep far from such dangers as I have men-tioned. Michael, believe your brother who speaks to you with his heart on his lips and who wishes only to see you always truly happy--the desire to go to such places without true necessity is most dangerous. To pretend that God will give you the grace not / , to fall into sin on such occasions is foolish presumption. Michael, do you want to love? Then do so by all means, but do you know whom? Love Mary. Who is more beautiful, more lov~ible, more powerful than she? Do not think that, because you cannot see her with your bodily eyes, loving her and speaking with 43 JOHN M. RENDER Review for Religious her brings weariness an'd is empty of consolation. No, consolations, joys will be all the more pure and all the more capable of filling your heart as the soul is spiritual and superior to the body. And then note well that people here on earth cannot make you happy. They are inconstant and deceitful in their love. And even if you should find someone without such defects, ~the one thought of having to separate from them one day will embitter and torment you/ heart, But this will rmt happen tb one who chooses Mary. She is lovable, faithful, constant. She will never let herself be out-done in Iove but will ever remain supreme. If you are in danger, she will hasten to free you. If you hre troubled~ she will console you. If you are sick, she will bring you relief, If you are in need, she will help you. She does not look to see what kind of person you have been. She simply comes to a heart that wants to love her. She comes quickly and opens her heart of mercy to you, embraces you, defends you, consoles you, and even serves you. She accom-panies you during this short time while you travel to eternity. And then (oh, my brother, this is what is most consoling) in that moment, in that very moment, when all will end in unspeak-able bitterness for those who have loved creatures from which they must separate themselves and pass from life here to the eternal home they have built, in that moment, I say, they will speak of these things with indescribable anguish. As though in despair they will say:--O cruel and bitter death, do you cut me off from what has up to now been the object of my heart! But the true lovers of Mary are consoled and welcome death. They separate themselves in peace from the things of this world and remember they are going to possess in reality the, object of their pure love, and they will be happy forever in her presence. Michael, try this; and, if it doesn't happen to you, then tell me I'm wrong. Make a visit every day, morning and evening if possible, to an image of Mary which you like best. Or better still, visit one in a church which is most neglected; and your visit will please her all the more. Sacrifice some object which is dangerous or vain, some- .thing you may have. Offer it at her feet in one of your visits. For love of her abstain from some amusements, companions, or pastimes; at least, from those that are dangerous and lead to evil. Recite the rosary every day out of love for her. Finally, when you feel in-spired to do anything or make some sacrifice for her, do it at once with a great heart and willing spirit and. be convinced that Mary will not be outdone in generosity. 44 January, 1955 SAINT'S LAST LETTER If you think it proper, show this letter to Tess and Pellegrini.1 Remind them that the scene of the present world is passing swiftly away. Tell them to keep God ever before them; and never do anything which could displease Him, not even for all the money in the world. Better to suffer and be patient for a few years here and then to rejoice for eternity than to live in luxury for a few years here and then to suffer, not ten, nor a hundred, nor a thousand, nor a million years, but for eternity. Remind them that God will ask an account not only for their own souls, but also for those of their family. So they must try to brihg them up in the holy fear of God and not according to the maxims of the world. What will they answer in the ~day of judgment, if . . . ? Perhaps you will smile when you read this letter, but that does not matter. He who has written it merits only derision. But re-member that he,who writes does so with his heart in his pen, with-out any aim in the world but the true and real good which you will have to answer for. My only aim after the glory of God is to be able to see us all united on the t~emendous day of judgment under the mantle of Mary, although~ here we are separated. Good-by, my .brother. Do not disdain me. Do what I have told you. It is a matter of eternal happiness or unhappiness. Every sadrifice is important and small. May Jesus and Mary give you and the whole family a very Happy.New Year. My Father Lector, who is so concerned for me, wishes you the same. Greet Dad and all the family. Recommend me to our Blessed -Mother that I may be saved. I seek nothing else. I am content to live retired in holy religion. I would rather by the divine mercy be the least of our brethren that be a son of the king and an heir of the kingdom. At this moment I might have been ordained a priest. But the ruling on the ordinations has prevented me from ascending beyond minor orders,z God wills it this way; so I will it too. Peace be with you. Your dearestbrother, Conf. Gabriel of the Sorrowful Virgin3 1His sister and brother-in-law. 2He received tonsure and minor orders May 25, 1861; and arrangements had been made for him to receive the subdiaconate the following September, then diaconate and the priesthood at Christmastime. But political disturbances made travel dang-erous, and the ordinations had to be deferred. 3Conf. is the abbreviation for Confrater, a title of passionist clerics not yet priests. 45 On Secular Ins÷ifu÷es For those who are interested in secular institutes a fine treatment of that topic in French has appeared under the title, Les lnstituts S~culiers. Descl~e de Brouwer publishes this 402-page book by Jean Beyer, S.J., professor of moral theology and canon law at the Jesuit Seminary in Louvain. The price is listed as 150 francs. A glance at the Table of Contents shows that the subject matter is divided into four parts. (1) A historical treatment of the origins and development of secular institutes (about 55 pages). (2) Astudy of the theology of secular institutes, including such items as the mat-ter of the vows, states of perfection, perfection and the priesthood, the interior life of secular institutes (about 105 pages). (3) Under the caption of legislation about secular institutes, a commentary on the ten Articles of the Provida Mater Ecclesia and on several other prac-tical points (also about 105 pages). (4) A concluding section which gives the text (in French) of various pertinent documents. The first of these are ten pontifical documents, dating from 1801 up to 1952, and including the Apostolic Constitution Pro~2ida Mater Ecclesia, the Motu proprio Primo Felic~'ter, and the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious Curn Sanctissirnus. Then follow two short "historical" documents and six "canonical" ones. These latter six documents are examples of decrees establishing a definite pious union and a diocesan secular institute, a decree of praise of a pontifical secular institute, a decree of definitive approba-tion of a pontifical secular institute, a form of "oblation" used by one group at the start.of the "novitiate," and a form of "consecration" used by one pious union for admission of new members. The differ: ent documents fill up about 55 pages. The last 35 pages of the book are devoted to valuable appendixes listing and giving brief descrip-tive notices of pious unions and secular institutes in various stages of approval. Four very short statistical tables summarize the data. The descriptive notices and the tables are concerned with groups nearly all originating in Europe, but of which some have spread to other continents. An extensive bibliography on the subject proper and on related areas, the table of contents, a list of abbreviations, the Preface and Introduction, and interspersing title leaves round out the sum total of pages of this highly competent work. 46 t ook Reviews THI: THEOLOGY OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. By Joseph de Gulbert, S.J. Translafed by Paul Barre÷÷, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. x÷382. Sheed and Ward, NewYork, 1953. $4.50. Father De Guibert was one of the most prominent and influen-tial authorities in ascetical and mystical theology during the first half of this century. He was one of the principal founders and editors of both the Reuue d'Asc~tique et M~stique and the Diction-naire de SpiritualitY. For many years he taught this specialty in the Gregorian University, Rome; and this book is a translation of what he used as a textbook or outline for his course there. Hence it is not primarily a devotional treatise, but a textbook for students of the-ology. After an introductory section on the study of "spiritual the-ology," the nature of Christian perfection is considered. Father De Guibert's favorite way of expressing it is to say that it consists "in the ever-growing dominion of charity." Other points discussed in this connection are the relations between observing the counsels and perfection, perfection and union with God or with Christ, union with the Holy Spirit, Christ as the center of all spiritual perfection, perfection and the imitation of God or of Christ, perfection and bearing the cross, and, lastly, perfection and con. formity of will. The third part is given to "The Inspirations and Gifts of the Holy Ghost and the Discernment of Spirits," and the fourth to "Man's Cooperation with God in the Spiritual Life." Next the important .problems of mental prayer are dealt with. Then follows a treatment of the degrees that are to be found in the development of the super-natural life. The final part handles questions relating to infused contemplation. Certain sections of this work are taken up with matter that has been much involved in controversy in recent years. Such are the chapters on contemplation, acquired or infused, the nature of mysti-cal experience, and especially the necessity of infused contemplation for the pursuit of high sanctity. These may be commended to those who are interested, and most of all to those who are not familiar with the views and arguments proposed by Father De Guibert and still would like to consider both solutions to the problem before ,committing themselves to either one. 47 BOOK REVIEWS Ret~ie~J for Religious Among the chapters in this book that seem particularly orig-inal and interesting, one might call attention to three. (1) How should one strike the proper balance in the spiritual life betwen ac-tivity and passivity, between personal initiative and accepted meth-ods, or between the impulses that appear to be inspired by the good spirit and external norms? (pp. 146-154) (2) What is the right attitude toward spiritual direction? Is a director acting within his power if he determines the vocation of a yourig person who seeks his counsel? (pp. 155-185) (3) How are we to conceive the re-lations between the active and contemplative lives? In what sense is the contemplative life superior to the active or mixed life? (pp. 292-301) Though The Tbeolog~ of the Spiritual Life was written for students preparing for the priesthood, it is a work that any intelli-gent person cultivating the interior life could very profitably use. What one should expect from it is not so much inspiration or moti-vation- it does not strive to bring out the vital implications of the great Christian dogmas--but rather a thorough knowledge and understanding of the theory and practice of the supernatural life. For directors it should be on the "must" list; and, to all who would take a more deeply intelligent approach in their quest of ascetical or mystical perfection, .it is very highly recommended. AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. THE SECRET OF THE ROSARY. By St. Louis de Mon~forf. Pp. 188. Mon~for~ Publiea÷ions, Bay Shore, N.Y., 1954. $2.50. When canonized saints write "spiritual reading," they seem to dip their pens not so much into ink as into the heroic charity and extraordinary prudence that help them be the saints they are. Hence their books deserve more than ordinary attention, for they inspire to much better than ordinary goodness. This volume is definitely such a book. St. Louis. Mary (born in the Breton town of Montfort, or-dained in 1700, canonized in 1947) was extraordinary even among saints for three realizations, namely, devotion to Mary increases love for 3esus; the rosary is the devotion which (he tells us) Mary "vastly prefers to all other devotions"; and the rosary "is not just a conglomeration of Our Fathers and Hail Marys, but . . . a divine summary of the mysteries of the life, passion, death, and glory of 3esus and Mary . . . a blessed blending of mental and vocal prayer, bywhich we honor and learn to imitate the virtues of the life, 48 danuary, 1955 BOOK REVIEWS passion, death, and glory of Jesus and Mary." St. Louis Mary was not only singularly devoted to Mary and the rosary, but--and this is the second great merit of his book--- he was singularly capable of teaching how to say the rosary well. The brief considerations on the Our Father are better than any others we have ever seen and, with the considerations on the Hail Mater, can serve magnificently as "points" for many meditations. The method, variable according to each one's devotion, of offering each of the fifteen decades is truly a saint's remedy for distractions. Fortunately, St. Louis Mary remembered to add to his book some wise words about "human faith," "pious faith," and "divine faith." These words can help the historical-minded and may pre-vent them. from refusing to let this book help them because they find unwarranted historical assumptions in it. As the Catholic Encyclopedia noted years ago, it was "undoubtedly" Blessed Alan de la Roche (preaching the rosary lovingly and beneficially in 1470-75) who "first suggested" that it had been revealed by our Lady to St. Dominic Guzman (1170-1221). St. Louis Mary and his contemporaries generally accepted Blessed Alan's belief as an historically-proved fact. But the good lessons which the saint draws from Blessed Alan's preaching make this book's historical error very pardonable indeed and very minor.-~PAUL DENT, 8.J. MARY IN DOCTRINE. By Emil Neubert, S.M., S.T.D. Pp. 257. The Bruce Publishing C~o., Milwaukee~ 1954. $4.25. In Mary in Doctrine, Father Neubert, foremost Mariologist among the Marianists, offers a systematic study of the privileges of Mary. While theologically exact and thorough, the book is written especially for the busy priest or religious unable to devote himself to the arduous study of the more specialized works. The book is developed on the basic formula: to the various privileges of the humanity of Jesus there correspond analogous privileges in Mary, in the manner and in the degree required by the difference between her condition and that of her son. The privi-leges of Mary fall into two groups in the author's division. The first are primarily functions; such as, the divine maternity, the universal mediation, and the universal sovereignty; the second are .the privileges accorded to Mary either in view of, or consequent upon, her functions; such as, her Immaculate Conception,. her vir-ginity, and her fullness of gra~e. ~ Chapter by chapter,' the book is a well-laid-ou.t'study of these BOOK REVIEWS Review for R~ligious functions and privileges. Each study is nicely done with clear ex-planation of. the meaning of the dogma, a rather full treatment of its scriptural and traditional background, and a rounded develop-ment of its wider theological implications. Readers will appreciate the clear explanation of what the Church understands by each privi-lege, the adequate treatment of its historical development, the ex. planation of the positions held by the more important adversaries. Father Neubert has written a very practical introduction ex-plaining the process by which the implicit content of revelation con-cerning Mary has become explicit through the ages and the criteria of infallibility that has guarded this de~relopment. Although--perhaps because--Father Neubert has written with the thoroughness and precision of the professional theologian, the book radiates the warmth peculiar to well-handled theological study. It offers a solid doctrinal foundation for a knowledge of Mary that will lead to a practical devotion to the Mother of God. --WILLIAM J. ENNEN, S.J. BORN CATHOLICS. Assembled by F. J. Sheed. Pp. 279. Sheed and Ward, New York, 1954. $3.S0. Those who think that the discovery of the Faith is a phenome-non peculiar to converts are inviting disillusionment when they pick up this book. Born Catholics is a compilation of nineteen accounts of why they are still Catholics, writ'ten by Cath01ics'who were such from infancy or from an age too young for' them to be called converts. The various' contributors are men, and women of varied age and profession, including a philosophy professor, in a Catholic college, a chemistry professor in a non-Catholic colleges artists, writers, names well known to the Catholic reading world, such as. Erik yon Kuehnelt-Leddihn and Caryll Houselander, and names not so well known. The unifying element, besides the fact that the writers were Catholic from an early age, is that they Were known to the assembler. All the ~iccounts, save the last by Hilaire Belloc, were.written for the book by request. It. seems to this reviewer that a greater variety of viewpoints is expressed in this assembly than is found in convert books; and that this book should refute those who think that only the con-verts show spontaneity and originality, the "cradle-Catholics" merely fdllowing where they are led. Some of the writers had to" find their way back to the Church after a period a~ay; most have met crises along the way; and all.have had to face their Faith with art attitude 5O danuar~t, 1955 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS of intelligent examination sooner or later. Nor do the writers ar-rive at a point where they all settle back comfortably viewing the Church with the same regard, without problems, without criticism, without difficulties. The reader is in for an interesting intellectual experience.--ALBERT J. SMITH, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS THE AMERICA PRESS, 70 E. 45th St., New York 17. Mar~t and the Popes. Five Great Marian Letters. Edited by Thomas J. M. Burke, S.J. In this collection Pius IX defines the Immaculate Conception (InelfabiIis Deus), Leo XIII writes on the rosary (ducunda Semper), Pius X speaks of Mary's maternity and mediation (Ad diem Illum Laetissimum), and Pius XII defines Mary's Assumption (Munfffcentissimus Deus), and proclaims the Marian Year (Fulgens Corona). Each letter is followed by study questions. Pp. 107. $1.00. BEAUCHESNE ET SES FILS, Paris, Rue de Rennes, 117. L'Evangile et les Evangiles. Par Joseph Huby, S.J. Nouvelle edition revue et augmentee par Xavier Leon-Dufour, S.J. A classic commentary on the New Testament which is much more than a mere explanation of difficult phrases. It is a book that should be translated into English. Pp. 304. BROTHERS OF THE SACRED HEART, Metuchen, New Jersey. Catechism of the Religious Profession. Many religious must be familiar with the first edition of this excellent book. They will be pleased to learn that in this new edition it has been completely revised. Pp. 158. $2.00. THE BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis. In the Image of Christ. By John L. Murphy. Books for "spir-itual" reading written specifically for the laity are not too numerous. In this volume Father Murphy applies the doctrine of the mystical body to the practical, every-day realities of life in the world. There are chapters on Marriage in Christ, The Teacher, The Farmer, Christ in Politics, and many others. The book makes good public reading for closed retreats. Pp. 169. $3.00. The Christian Life Calendar. By Reverend Gabriel Ward Haf-ford and Reverend George Kolanda. A truly Christian life is a liturgical life. That is why this calendar gives the layman all the liturgical informatiori he /nay need to live each

Issue 12.5 of the Review for Religious, 1953. ; A.M.D.G. Review for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1953 Pleasure and Ascetical Life . Joseph P. Fisher intergroup Relations " Wiiliam H. Gremley The Religion Teacher . Sls~er M. Acjneslne Practice of the Holy See ¯ Joseph F. Gallen Discipline . c.A. Herbst Questions and Answers Rural Parish Wo~'kers VOLUME XII NUMBER RI VII:::W FOR RI::LI IOUS VOLUME XlI SEPTEMBER, 15, 1953 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS SOME THOUGHTS ON PLEASURE AND THE ASCETICAL LIFE-- Joseph P, Fisher, S.J . 225 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 230 ABOUT BOOKS . 230 SOME DEVELOPMENTS IN INTERGROUP RELATIONS-- William H. Gremley . . . . . 231 A YEAR WITH THE RURAL PARISH WORKERS . 242 PAGING THE RELIGION "TEACHER--Sister M. Agnesine, S.S.N.D. 248 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J .2.5.2 DISCIPLINE--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 272 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 25. Second Year of Novitiate . 276 26. Authority of Superior and Novice Master . 278 27. Sleeping Quarters of Novices . 279 28. Fugitive Religious and Dowry . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1953, Vol. XII, 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: Jerome Breunig, S.J., Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, s.,j., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright 1953, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is her.eby gra,nted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before wrlt;ncj to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Some Thought:s on Pleasure and !:he Ascet:ical Life Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. ¯|T IS ALMOST INEVITABLE that a good many young reli- | gious, especially among the more fervent, run into certain difficul-ties in squaring their attitude toward pleasure and their acceptance of it with certain ascetical ideals. Practically all ascetical literature, as in a certain sense it must, enlarges on the danger of pleasure and sometimes almost gives the idea to inexperienced minds that pleasure is evil in itself. Likewise there is the insistence that the harder, the more painful, a thing is, the better. While this is true ~rightly under-stood, . young minds frequently make. no qualifications and hence fall into error. Often enough the lives of the saints seem to confirm their exaggerations. The, attitude of mind engendered by such misunder-standings makes for certain practical difficulties in the conduct of these young religious. They are constantly ill-at-ease when faced with pleasure. They feel their ascetical ideals conflict with the mode of action encouraged by customs, by more experienced religious, friends, or relatives. On certain occasions, for instance, feast days, picnics, visiting, it seems they are expected t~o enjoy food, entertain-ment, comforts of various kinds. But they feel that to do so means they must go back on the truest ascetical principles. Or it may be that they are encouraged to enjoy literature but feel that to do so would be. to lessen their ideals. As a matter of fact in the more. ex-treme cases a young religious may have his or her outlook so shaped by the conviction that pleasure is evil (or at least always very. sus-pect) and pain always good that the whole spiritual life is nothing but a kind of self-torture. As is evident, all religious should know the truth about this mat-ter. In general it may be said that not only is it no sin ~o enjoy moderate pleasure but it can easily be an act of virtue. And the goodness of the act can be indefinitely increased by the inte.ntion of directing it to a higher and nobler end, and even actually and ex-plicitly to our ultimate end. For example, a religious who likes honey may eat it with relish and glorify God by so doing. The religious knows there is no sin in such an action and implicitly understands that the action is in accord with God's designs for human life. As a 225 JOSEPH P. FISHER Reoiew ~or Religious matter of fact, the religious could make this an act of the love of God by quietly considering the Wisdom and Goodness of God manifested in this expe.rience of human life. And so with the various simple pleasures that might conceivably, come into an ordinary day. Thdre is a field of pleasure that may well call for special atten-tion. Nowadays many religious are called upon to teach the fine arts, whose whole purpose is to please. This does not mean of.course that this pleasure may be regarded as man's absolutely last end, but it is a relatively ultimate end. Unlike "practical" arts, the fine arts are not aimed at producing something useful, but something beautiful, which causes pleasure. Now if what w,e said above about the possibility of elevating the goodness of sensible pleasures is true, this possibility is even truer in regard to the pleasures of art. For the pleasure of art is a nobler pleasure than that of eating, for instance. Accordingly, it ought to be easier to sublimate the "good" present in an aesthetic ex-perience. Some may doubt this, recalling what they have heard about the immorality of artists of various kinds a~id the. warnings against being a vapid aesthete. And it must be admitted that for certain temperaments there is a danger. Father Graham, in his book, The Looe of God, puts !t stronglywhen.he says: "Artistic sensibility can and should, when controlled by prudence, lend grace and attractive-ness to the moral life. But it frequently happens that the allure-ments of beauty prove so strong that the response to them tends to degenerate into mere aesthetic indulgence. The lover of beauty is con-cerned above all else with the joyous experience of what is pleasing; when unchecked by other considerations he seeks logically an ecstatic existence of perpetual intoxication, through eye and ear and mind, with beautiful objects." It may be added that if a person is of such a temperament and gives in to it, he will undoubtedly do it to the neglect of duty. Even those who are not especially sensitive to beauty can at times be drawn from stern duty by the siren of pleasure. However, it seems that among Catholics and certainly among religious such aesthetes are rather rare. The difficulty is oftentimes the other way about. Even those whose duty it is to study literature and other works of art try to do so without apprec,iating and enjoying the beauty of them. Such an approach is obviously wrong, for unless literature and the other works of art are enjoyed, they are not correctly comprehended. And one who himself does not comprehend can hardly expect to teach others with any success. So it comes about that some rather fail in 226 September, 1953 PLEASURE AND ASCETICAL LIFE their du~;y by not enjoying what is God's Will that theyshould enjoy than by over-indulgence. For example, if Brother Aquinas is pre-paring to teach English and fears to allow himself aesthetic pleasure in reading Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, he certainly will fail to a great extent in both his studies and his teaching. Moreover, it would be well for men if the right kind of people created and appreciated beauty. Too often the enjoyment of beauty appears to be the monopoly of sentimental, anti-intellectual, or at least non-intellectual, and irreligious escapists. "All things are yours" (I Cor. 3/33) but they won't be if we fear immod'~rately, unreasonably, the enjoyment of the beautiful. Since there is an intimate relationship between nature ahd art. it will help to see first something about the enjoyment of nature. Ac-cording to St. Paul, "All the creatures of God are good and nothing is to be rejected that is received with thanksgiving . " (I. Tim. 4/4). And "From the foundations of the world men have caught sight of his invisible nature, his eternal power and his divinity, as they are knowri through his creatures" (Romans, 1/20). The beau-ties of nature ought to lead us to God, Who is reflected in nature, the work of His bands. Many misunderstand the place of "creatures" in God'splan for men. They are normally the means by which man rises to a knowledge and love of the Creator. Too many look upon them as "absolutes," things apart from God, things which, if appre-ciated, draw us to themselves and away from God. Such a view is based upon a n.isunderstandlng of. their true nature. Creatures, finite beings, are of their very nature dependent beings, relative beings, not absolutes. They must, if properly understood, be related to the In-finite; they point to the Infinite; their participated qualities are finite reflections of the infinite attributes and should more than remind us of their prototype. For one who understands the truth about the nature of finite beings, they ought to be stepping stones or rather springboards by Which he rises to that full Being Who is the ever-active cause of their ever-dependent existence. "The Contemplation for Obtaining L6ve," which crowns the Exercises of St. Ignatius, tries to impress men with this truth, but many, satisfied with a super-ficial approach, never really understand it. But the saints have understood it. It is a commonplace that St. Francis of Assisi made much of the sacrament of nature. A biographer relates "the following of St. Francis during his last days. "Meanwhile Francis was suffering greatly. Yet amidst his bodily 227 JOSEPH P. FISHEI~ agonies .be continued to find a~ absorbing sweetness in meditating upon the be.auty of God ifiHis creationl All the.crea'tion seemed to sing of the glory of its Creator to his pain-racked senses: and this is the more wonderful when w~ rememb& ho'~ 'pain is 'apt to turn all sensible comfort into bitterness. One day,' when he was suffering more than u~ual in eyes ~ifid head, he had a great desire to hear the viol. One of the brothers attending him, had been a violist in the world. Francis called for him and said: 'Biother, th~ children of th~ world do not understand divine sacraments: and musical instru-ments, which in former times were set apart for. the praise of God, man's wantonness has converted to the mere delight of the ear. Now I would hav~ you go secretly and borrow a vi01 and bring comfort with some honest melody to Brother Body who is so full of pains.' " Now without entering into controversy about the relationship between nature and art, we can certainly transfer 'much 6f what we have said about nature and God to art and God. Whether you say that art copies nature, perfects or .sublimates nature, or helps one ap-preciate nature, in any case, artistic works ~re finite participations of Infinite Beauty an'd, if appreciated as such, can and should aid one to appreciate this Infinite Beauty. In o{her words, art ~can help one use creatures for "contemplation." A man who is impressed by finite beauty can thereby be better prepared to appreciate the Source of all beauty. One may, for instance, never have realized how a cloud re-flects God's beauty Until he has read and appreciated Shelley's poem, ."The Cloud." Pleasure, though an end in its own o~der, may, if handled prop-erly, be a means of drawing closer to God. A certain puritanical bent of mind prevents many from appreciating this fact. This is not to deny that one can practice virtue" by foregoing the enjoyment of l~gitimate pleasure. It is often said that such abstinence from legiti-mate pleasure strengthens the will so,that it wili be strong in temp-tation. There is certainly much truth in this statement, but it is well to rememberthat motivation rather than exercise is the best means of strengthening the will. However, it is clear that a religious would scarcely be imitating Christ very seriously if he endeavored to fill life with every legitimate pleasure. Christ being rich became poor for us. All who are in the way of the love of Christ know that they can manifest and add to their love by sacrifice. Even here it is well to remember that' ChriSt made use of at least some.pleasures of Ills, ¯ such as the enjoyment of friendship and of.natur~al beauty. And 228 September, 19~ 3 PLEASURE AND ASCETICAL LIFE theology will not allow us to forget the fact that all His life Christ enjoyed the Beatific Vision, even though it is true at least at times the proper effects were divinely withheld. As to whether Christ enjoyed the beauty of human art, we do not have much evidence. If he did not, it would seem that was Simply due to circumstances; cer-tainly the enjoyment of finite beauty is a very worthy human ex-perience, and Christ was a complete man. God it is who has given the artistic urge and God it is Who has created the arts in which man "imitates" the Creator. The artist, even though unconsciously, casts an illuminating light on some facet of a created good, and aids us to appreciate more fully, the beauty .of God's handiwork. Of course Christ did not need this aid, but there were many things Christ did not need that He made His own to be like us and give us an example. The question as to how far an individual religious ought togo in the renouncemen(' of even legitimate pleasure is a very personal question. Even one who wishes to go far in this regard ought to understand the truth of the matter, so that he knows to what he is bound and where he begins to practice supererogation. It is likewise well to remember that what may be or appear objectively best is not always subjectively so. An individual's nature, vocation, training, ¯ and the grace of God must always be considered in settling such questions. What is good for one may be bad for another. A novice in the spiritual life cannot do what a tried religious can do; an active religious cannot do what a contemplative can. It dbes seem that most active religious, at least in the early years of their religious life, may well use pleasure, the higher pleasur.es and even moderate sensible pleasures, to help them rise to the knowledge and love of their Cre-ator. In doing this they should not feel that they are turning their backs on Christ, for as they 'get to know His "mind" better and begin to love Him more, they will spontaneously and with peace.and equanimity begin to give themselves to what St. Ignatius styles the Third Degree of Humility, the imitation of Christ in s~ffering and humiliations through love. Certain young religious seem to think that what is really the strong meat of the mystic way is already for them early in their reli-gious lives, for they try to get to God without the use of creatures. Cardinal Bellarinine points them the way quite clearly: "But we mortal men (as it seemeth) can find no other ladder whereby to ascend unto God, but by the works of God. For those who by the singular gift of God have (by another way) been admitted into 2.29 ~JoSEPH P. FISHER Paradise to hear God's secrets, which it is not lawful for a man to speak, and are not said to have a'scended, 13ut to have been wrapt.". At death some religious who have been striving to fly without wings will agree v~itb this statement of Father Martindale: "But may not one of the great 'difficulties' of dying be this--not that yo~u. have worshipped idols--loved created things ~oo much--but that you have not loved them nearly enough? What suddenly appals one is,' that God surrc~unded one with a myriad things of unbeliev-able beauty--like butterflies, or the sea, or uneducated p, eople--and that one has allowed them to slip by almost unnoticed." Certainly one reason many do not get more out of life is that they fail to make Christlike use of one of God's good creatures-- pleasure. "For all things are yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas; or the world, or life, or death; or things present, or things to cg.me--all are yours, and you are Christ's, and Christ is God's" (I Cor. 3/22:23). OU R CONTRIBUTORS ¯ "JOSEPH P. FISHER is master of novices at the Jesuit novitiate, Florissant, Mo." WILLIAM H. GREMLEY is Executive Secretary for the. Commission on Human Rela-tions, Kansas City, Mo. SISTER M. AGNESINE is nationally known as an expert on methods of teaching religion. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock Coll~ge, Woodstock, Md. C. A. HERBST is on the faculty of the Jesuit juniorate .at Florissant, Mo. ABOUT BOOKS It will be noticed that in this number of the REVIEW; book reviews, book. notices, and book announcements are conspicuous by their absence. The' reason for this is that the varied summer assignments of the editors made it impossible to do the ol~ice work necessary for organizing reviews, notices, etc. The deficiency will be remedied in the November number. 230 Some Developments in Intergroup Relations William H. Gremley IT IS almost anti-climactic these, days to dwell at length on the importance of social and political problems in America occasioned by intergroup relationships. The volume of press stories and magazine articles on the subject,, such as Supreme Court decisions, legislative action of one kind or another or "incidents," either posi-tive or negative in nature, increases daily and 'has come to be almost routine. Scarcely a Week passes without some high official, go+tern-ment or civic, making a major address regarding the international aspects of this issue. That it may be one of the most important topics of our day can-not be denied since, in degree, it permeates almost all other major nation~il concerns, yet, like all social or political issues, it must have proper perspective to be abso'rbed and understood. Unfortunately, the drama and emotion inherent in the problem is a barrier to this perspective. All ioo often the negative--the headlines on race-riots, the grim warnings that we are losing overseas allies, the economic loss from discrimination--dominates the over-all picture with scant emphasis on the positive. And, all too often, the positive is usu~illy limited to gome assertion that "ihe Negro has come a long way since slavery." A brief analysis of some developments in intergroup relations over the past ten years will disclose some positive aspects of far more importance and profundity than the latter remark. The objectives of this article will be to present some analysis of those developments, primarily as they relate to daily situations familiar to most readers. and to attempt a balance of both fiegative and pgsitive aspects so as to present a proper over-all perspecttive. " I Initially, some definitions may be of value as follows: t) The terminology of the problem has, in the past, often been misunderstood. To call it a "Negro problem" is a. misnomer for, in actuality, there is no such thing as a. N, eoro problem in the. United ~tates--nor,.for that matter, a ,Jewish, Mexi.c.o.n, or Puerto Rican .231 X~qlLLIAM H. GREMLEY Review/:or Religious problem or any other issue involving people of one race, .religion, or national origin. The problem, in. terms of a situation demanding attention or correction, is one involving re[ationsfiips between mem-bers of different groups. It is, thus, more accurate to define it as a Negro-white, Jewisb-Gentilel etc., relationship problem. Nothing in the entire range of group discrimination or prejudice has roots solely in one group. A sub-problem, for example, of employment discrimination against Jews or Negroes is dynamically related to the fears, myths, and prejudices of the white Gentile em-ployer. Moreover,. defining the issue as a "Negro problem"-implies a detached and overly-objective attitude toward 15,000,000 people that is quite unrelated to the facts of group discrimination. 2) The term, "intergroup relations" is replacing, in g~neral, such terms as "race-relations" or "human relations." The word "intergroup" obviously pinpoints the is~sue far more than either a phrase excluding religious or nationality conflicts or one embracing all personal relationships, both "inter" a'nd "intra." 3) "Minority groups," as a phrase, is confined solely to a group that, because of some facet of assumed ~roup identity--skin color, religion, language, or group, custom--suffers social, economic, or political discrimination against it. Actually, however, i'minority group" is divisive in itself since it segments people from others and should be used with caution and clarity. 4) " The phrase "civil rights" is distinct from "civil liberties" in that the latter refers to the political or quasi-political freedoms guar-anteed to all by Constitutional safeguards. These would include freedom of speech, press, assembly, religion, or right to petition or bear arms. On the other hand, "civil rights" ~ire much rffore social in nature, referring to rights involving places of piablic accommoda-tion, public or privately owned, employment, housing, health and welfare facilities, recreation or education. Somewhere in between the two terms would come rights concerning voting and police pro-tection. II. Perhaps tb~ most important single,development in intergroup relations in the last decade has been th~ establishment of official city agencies to deal with urban problems of this type. Known, for the most part, as "commissions" or "councils" followed by the words "on civic unity," "community relations," or "human relations," they represent a significant phase in the over-all advancement toward September, 1953 INTERGROUP RELATIONS solutions of these problems. In essence,, such, city agencies mean a full realization of and acknowledgement by city authorities that in-tergroup relationships in the diverse populations making up most of America's urban areas can no longer be left to chance or haphazard methods. Just as in decades past, public health, transportation, wa-ter supply, street maintenance, and a host of other various civic con-cerns have been progressively added to the functions of American city government, so too the concerns of intergroup violence, dis-crimination, and individual civil rights are now the official tax- " supported duties of more than 60 American cities. The origins of such city agendes, most of which are goyerned by city ordinance, date from the Detroit race riots of 1943. Shortly after that catast~rophe, a group of Chicago citizens, headed by the late Edwin Embree, then head of the Rosenwald Fund, persuaded the late Mayor Edward Kelly to establish the first such agency. In time, other cities followed suit ~nd today the list includes such arras as Detroit, Milwaukee, Cleveland, Buffalo, Toledo, Kansas City (Mo.), St. Louis, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh, Denver. Seattle, and scores of others. In addition, many cities, both North and South. lacking a tax-supported agency, have privately supported groups working to-ward similar ends. Basically, these agencies, composed, for the most part, of mayoral appointees serving without salary but with a paid professional staff, have three aims: 1) To prevent or lessen intergroup violence~ u~hether of the col-lective mob type or as an isolated action (i.e., a bombing or an indi-vidual attack). The most singular success in this regard has taken place in Chicago where the police force, after utilizing the guidance and resources of the Chicago Commission on Human Relations, has achieved a high degree of efficiency in the prevention of intergroup mob violence. (The Cicero riot of 1951 is a case in point. So strict and effective were police measures taken to prevent a "spilling"'over Of ¯ this affair into Chicago that, while law and order broke down com-pletely in Cicero--adjacent to Chicago-the prevalent tensions in the latter city were kept completely in check.) 2) To d~oelop harmonious relationships bettveen all groups And eliminate the causes of group friction and. prejudice. In this regard, such~ city~ag.encies have,available.,a vast.amount of resource material built up over the last ten years. The material available to schools of 233 WILLIAM H. GREMLEY Review for Religious all type~ and a~ all levels will illustrate. Audio-visual aids, teacher training workshops, and curriculum and school-community relation-ship material are some of the areas where resources may be obtained. In addition, ~xtensive tl~eoretical and practical research has been ac-complisbed regarding such problem areas a~ community organization, employment, housing, health, welfare, recreatiom and civil rights. 3) To safeguard and protect the ci~)il rights" of all groups. A greater divergence among such agencies is found in this objective th~an in the other two for an obvious reason~ The degree of civil rights legally accorded to citizens, for the most part, depends on the local or state laws on the subject. Many states, like New York and Rhode Island, have effective Fair Employment PracticeLaws. In addition, New York has a Fair Education Practice Law that prohibits school "quotas" based on group differences. Conversely the s~gregation laws of the South deny civil rights to manycitizens. Thus an inter-group city agericy relies on laws if they exist and persuasion to pro-tect such rights. In "border" states like Missouri, the agency must depend on persuasion alone to accomplish this objective. In general, the types of intergroup probiems faced by a city agency will depend on the population make-up of the city itself. In cities like Chicago, Detroit, and Kansas City, perhaps 90% of such problems spring from Negro-white relationships. New York City with a Puerto-Rican population of.some 500,000 must consider this particular problem along with Negro-white and Jewish-Gentile con-cerns. West Coast cities with people of Japanese descent comprising large .segments of the Ipopulation, Texas urban areas containing sig-nificant percentages of Mexican-Americans, and Rocky-Mountain or North Mid-West states with American Indian reservations, all have different kinds of problem areas sometim_es calling for different kinds of treatment techniques or materi~ils. III An inevitableconsequehce or ,concomitant.of the growth of both" intergroup city agencies and the extensive resource material men-tioned has beeh the development of the 'intergroup relations "pro-fessioni" For the most part, the usual frame ofreference associated with any profession--research material, academic courses and,degrees, job personnel standards, establishment of a national organization (in this case the National Association of Intergroup Relations,Offi-cials)--- characterize intergroup, relations. Over and above these cri- 234 Sgptember, 1953 teria, however, certain premises exist regarding this'field Which have strong foundation~ not only in law where the c'ase may be but, in all cases, in democratic and religious principles as well. -It may be un-necessars; to ~dd that such principles are wholly consonant with those of the two major religious traditions in America. Both Judaic and Christian concepts of individual dignity, of course, are clear and defined. Man is an individual with God-given rights as well as .God-given responsibilities. In addition, it is inher-ent in his nature to mingle and commune.with his fellowmen. Both singly and collectively, he has rights and responsibilities to others and to himself in'a social sense. It ,is thus essential to th~ nature and work of these city agencies that the premise of natural rights for all should underscore and per-meate their functions and programs. The assumption that the hu-man family is one under God, that variations between peoples of genes or customs do not detract from this assumption., and that, in keeping with this "oneness" under God, all are equally entitled, to basic rights, are fundamental four~ations for inte, rgroup wozk' not only of.the "official" city agency type but in the private an'd volun-teer area as well. Some exa.mples may help, to illustrate these concepts. Labor 1) The dignity of labor, exalted by Christ and sustained by the Popes through encyclicals, certainly means the right to fully utilize one's skills. Yet the record ~f denial ofthis righ[ by r~fusals to hire or to upgrade extends back to the mid~lle 19th Century when (and continuing almost to the 20th Century) such denial to Irish Cath-olics was illustrated by factory signs--"Help Wanted--No Irish Need Apply." Tod~y, through cultural assimilation, neither the Irish immigrant nor those of Irish descent suffer this indignity. In their place, the Negro or those of Jewish. faith.are the major victims of job discrimination. It may be said that, to some extent, every racial, religious, or nationality group whether indigenous or not to America has suffered this type of injustice. Recent advances, however, in this problem 'area give hope for the future. The numerous state and city FEPC laws, the changing atti-tude of many industries, aware of the great economic loss in wasted skills, the strong stand of the American Catholic hierarchy as well as other religious bodies against job discriminatioh--all developments INTERGROUP RELATIONS 235 WILLIAM H. GRE/vlLEY Review/:or ReligiOus for the most part of just the "past decade--indicate .a point in time when this problem will no longer be major. Health 2) Perhaps no area of life involves more compassion or human feelings than suffering brought about by sickness or accident, and in this area, perhaps above all others, divine precepts of mercy and brotherly .love should prevail. Yet, this compassion is, strangely lacking in many American cities when hospital facilities for Negroes are considered. Segregation, even in many Northern cities is the rule despite worthy exceptions and it would be impossible to estimate the amount of loss of life or unnecessary pain caused by refusals of hos-pitals to admit Negro patients. 'For example, in the Kansas City area recently, a young Negro woman, injured in an auto accident, was refused admittance to or hastily transferred from four different hospitals because of her color. Eventually taken to her home, she died shortly after. Competent medical authorities definitely asserted that, with prompt and adequate attention, she might well have survived. ' Adding to this problem is the inability of qualified minority-groups doctors, nurses, and medical technicians to obtain staff ap-pointments to hospitals practicing discrimination. Thus the ,hos-pital rationalizes--"We have no Negro doctors so we don't have Negro patients." In this aria as well as employment, however, encouraging prog-ress has been made in ~ecent years. Laws in many states have been .passed prohibiting hospitals from refusing emergency patients Because of race, color, creed, or national origin. Many single hospitals in ~ities like Chicago, New York, Kansas City, and others have taken the initiative in eliminating color bars and given Negro or Jewish doctors and nurses staff appointments. The number of Negro medi-cal students in formerly all-white attended schools is on the increase, and Negro graduates are finding it easier to obtain interr;ships, par-ticularly in municipal hospitals. Education 3) In the, field of education as well, divine concepts of justice and decency to all mankind are just as strong as the above, but school segregation, with its foolish emphasis on the "separate but'~qual" tbegry, at a time when equal facilitiesAor .minority grqups i.s .p.hy.~si.-~ cally and economically t;nfeasible, continues as a burning, national 236 September, 1953 INTERGROUP RELATIONS issue. The waste, not only in dollars but in imperfect or thwarted personal development because of these barriers amohg children is in-calculable. To fully equalize, for example, the separate public schools of the State of Missouri alone wduld cost $20,000,000 according to a re-cent surveyl--without counting the cost of continuing extra trans-portation for Negro pupils. 'On the other hand, it was estimated that approximately $.1,150.000 a year of tax-monies could be saved by integrating the Missouri public school system. It is in the field of education, however, that the record of ad-vancement in the last decade is brightest. U.S. Supreme Court deci-sions have opened ~graduate schools in the South to all applicants. (Those in the North, for the most part, have been integrated sinc'e the 19th Century.) The forthcoming Supreme Court decision on public school segregati.on may well mean thd eventual end of this-anomaly on American democracy. The record of Catholic school authorities in school segregation matters is most significant. In community after community, in-cluding' Kansas City and St. Louis and even in Deep South areas where school segregation was deep-rooted custom, boId and cou-rageous action by diocesan' or arch-diocesan officials have integrated Catholic schools at all l~vels. Jesuit colleges and high schools, in particular, have a record of many "firsts'" in this respect, welcoming all stu~tents in communities otherwise strongly segregated. " IV Despite the. admirable record of Catholic schools in eliminating school segregation, many serious problems still remain to be faced. Perhaps chief among these is that regarding the efficacy of teachers as well as curriculum material in instilling sound intergroup attitudes among pupils. Chiefly. because of existing residential segregation of minority groups in most American cities, the elimination of segregation in Catholic schools where ~t has been.accomplished does not always mean extensive integration. As a rule, a school attended wholly by white pupils remained white-attended With the reverse true for schools Wholly attended by Negroes or children of Mexican descent. It has been usually in the "fringe" areas--where the population was 1"The Cost of Segregated Schools"--Study by Stuart A. Queen, Washi~gtoa Uni-. versity. Available from Missouri Association for Social Welfare, 113 ~ West High Street, Jefferson City, Missouri. " " 237 WILLIAM H. GREMLEY mixed racially or ethnically--that significant integration of different groups took place. Such "fringe" schools are usually in a minority compared to the total number in any given urban community. Ex-ceptions should be made with reference to any isolated Negro-occupied areas outside .the main such area in an urban center. Even in those cases, however, usually not more than a handful of new Negro pupils were registered after the integration order. This residential segregation has, in some areas where the popu-lation is predominantly Catholic, stimulated several situations of racial violence in which the role of the Catholic school has severely been called into question. Following the Cicero anti-Negro riot of 1951, which occurred in a community estimated to be 65 % Cath-olic, the writer interviewed an official of a local Catholic ~chool. In response to questions concerning the use of curriculum material pro-moting positive intergroup attitudes, it" was indicated, that the teaching of such attitudes was confined to the history classes. Worthy as such teaching may be, it was hardly sufficient to relate present-day intergroup problems to the pupils. Since many of the youthful par-ticipants in that affair were observed wearing Catholic insignia of some type, such limitations were not effective as a deterrent to vio-lence. The Peoria Street violehce of 1949 in Chicago, in which extreme ¯ anti-Semitism as well as anti-Negro prejudice took the form of severe assaults and beatings on bystanders allegedly "3ewish-looking," oc-curred in an area estimated to be 90% Catholic. Teen-agers in both incidents played a predominant role in the violence. It is true, of course, that such incidents of racial and religious violence are by no means confined to areas predominantly or heavily Catholic in population. Numerous other disturbances equally or even more severe than those cited have occurred in urban localities pr(~dominantly non-Catholic. The immediate concern, however, is with the role of the local Catholic school, in social situations involv-ing pre.judice and intergroup violence and in localities where ~ignifi-cant portions of the population¯ are of the Catholic faith. Something Lacking? The percentage figures and role of teenagers in the above two af-fairs pose an important question--what was lacking in the teaching techniques of the local Catholic school that could have prevented such expressions of violence and prejudice at least by participants who 238 September, 1955 INTERGROUP RELATIONS may have been Catholic? That something was--perhaps is-- lacking is obvious. While it may be that such a lack is due to com-munity pressures and mores hostile toward p~ople of different color or religion, it is possible that lack of awareness by teachers of the problem coupled with teaching materials that possibly create disre-spect and prejudice for different groups, may also account for this deficiency. For example, in one type of reader used in Catholic ele-mentary schools, the following quotation is f6und: (The reference is to the American Indian.) "Hello, Mother," cried Tom, as he ran into the apartment house where he lived. On the table in the kitchen Tom saw a large white cake. 'Tm glad that I'm an American boy tonight," he said. "Indians never had cake for supper, did they. Mother?" "I'm afraid not, Tom," answered his mother. "They didn't wash their faces before supper, either, but American boys do that.''2 Apart from the "1o, the poor Indian" attitude implied, it is manifestly unfair to deprive tbe native American of his nationality. The matter of bodily cleanliness, of course, varied in custom among the numerous Indian tribes. It is hardly possible that- respect and dignity for the American Indian as an individual created by God could be implanted in children's minds from this passage. On the other hand, an example of the type of curriculum material that can advance positive attitudes in a realistic social situation sense is found in another reader containing the story, "Toward a Promised Land.''3 Dealin~ with effort~, based on race prejudice; to oust a competent Negro doctor from a hospital, the tale. resolves the situa-tion satisfactorily from both a moral and practical viewpoint. The efforts fail, the ~doctor is retained, and his little son sees another ad-vance toward "a promised land." Both examples above perhaps will illustrate the social impor-tance of developing proper intergroup attitudes among children, ad-mittedly often a difficult task in the face of possible parental prejudice and objections. This social importance, however, is far overshadowed by the spiritual importance. To permit or ignore the development in children of prejudiced attitudes, unchecked or not counteracted in 2"This is Our Town," Faith ~ Freedom Series, Book 3, by Sr. M. Marguerite, 'Ginn E4 Company, 1952, p. 46~ 3"These Are Our Horizons," Faith ~3 Freedom Series, Book 7, by Sr. M. Charlotte, and Mary Syron, LL.D. Ginn E4 Company, 1945, p. 136. 239 WILLIAM H. GREMLEY Review for Religious the school, may be almost as much a negation of. ~hrist'~ ~eaching.as the actual encouragement of group prejudice or bigotry. The re-sponsibility, ofcourse, is no less in the home than in.the school, but in the Catholic school the duty to ~each the'ethics of the brotherhood of man unde~ the Fatherhood of God seems of particular concern. The concern is that of Christ. In her excellent study4 on attitudes towards Jews~ by .Catholic school children, Sr. Mary Jeanine Gruesser states: "Interest in the social attitudes of Catholic children is bound up with Catholic belief and practice. Today the. tremendous~octrine of the Mystical Body of Christ is being .preached and taught with new stress and emphasis. In language that he can understand, the youngest Catholic school child is learning to live the fact that all are members, one of another, in Christ. But the teacher who is really concerned that the child take this lesson away from the classroom and back to his play group in the neighborhood, rnus~ know some-thing about the situations and conditions of intergroup interaction of which the child is.a part, of the attitudes toward other people, other religious and nationality groups, that be has already formed. These are the realities to which the doctrine' must be applied, but the two must be related t:or th~ child." Having stated and, it is hoped, adequately illustrated the prob-lem, some positive resources may be listed that may be of value. Available Resources 1) As indicated, a local city intergroup agency can be of as-sistance in suggesting acceptable audio-visual and curriculum ma-terial designed to counteract prejudice and develop healthy and wholesome attitudes in children regarding people of different groups. ~2) Private agencies such as local community relations bureaus,. some school or teacher associations or local offices of the National, Conference of Christians and Jews also have resources ~eadily avail-able for this purpose. 3) Teacher workshop~ in intergroup r61ations are now available each summer in practically every section of the country. For tb~ most part, these workshops are given at local universities and colleges. A lis[ of them may be secured from the office of the National Associa- 4"Categorical Valuations of Jews Among Catholic Parochial School Children," St. Mary Jeanine Gruesser. Dissertation, Catholic University of America Press, Washington, D. C., 1950, p. 8. 240 September, 1953 INTERGRouP RELATIONS tion of Intergroup Relations Offici'als.s Most of these institutes are secular in nature and sponsorship. They are open to all applicants and usually held during the day. A special workshop designed for Catholic religious teachers has been instituted in the Shell School 6f" Social Studies in Chicago. 4) Competent rating scales for determining children's attitudes toward members of other groups are available. Examples are the "Wrightstone Scale of Civic Beliefs," the "Bogardus Social Distance Scale," and the "Grice Scale for.Measuring Attitudes Toward Races and Nationalities." (The latter is available in Sr. 3eanine's study.) As initial steps, such s~ales are extremely valuable in determining an inventory of such .attitudes and measuring the extent of such prob-lems existing in any school. V In conclusion, the international significance of official city agen-cies as resources leading to solutions of group problems of education, employment, health, or welfare facilities is manifest. In essence, they indicatd a "coming of age" for America, a growing realization that America must and can fight its own dilemma on its own grounds. For too long the Communists have pointed a distorted finger of shame at this dilemma in our democracy withoutwas is natural for them--mention of the earnest and valiant efforts made to work 6ut these problems within the framework of our democratic tr'aditions. That we can and will continue to do so, that all group~ and re-ligious bodies, Catholic and 'iaon-Catholic alike, will strive to give substance and body to our great political and religious heritage, is inevitable. Despite the discordancies, whether of violence, discrim-inations, or prejudice, the record of progress in the over-all march of American democracy toward its fulfillment for all, is clear and pro-. found. SNational Association of Intergroup Relations Officials, 565 North Erie Street, Toledo 2, Ohio. "'Opposed to all of these and a billion times rhore powerful is that Love repre-sented by the Sacred pierced Heart of Christ. It is the love for all men, who have equal opportunity tOoshare that tremendous Love, and to return it according as they will, for it has "first loved them and gone down to death for them singly and col-lec/ tively. Such a Lo~,e, even more than the common hand of the Creator unites all men before God. Can men be so callous as to remember race-hatred while kneeling around the Cross of the Crucifie~[ Christ?" '(The Most Rev. Vincent S. Waters, 'Bishop of Raleigh, in his Pastoral Letter of June 12, 1953.) 241 A Year wit:h the Rural Parish Workers [EDITORS' NOTE: The Rural Parish Workers of Christ the King are laywomen de-voted to works oi~ the apostolate in rural areas. Father Edward A. Bruemmer, in whose parish they bare worked for several years, says of them: "[ am convinced that theE are as essential to the welfare of a rural parish as the teaching sisters in the parish school. Perform!ng the corporal and spiritual works" of mercy on a scal~ hitherto undreamed of, they have renovated the face of the earth here." We had planned to give a rather complete sketch of the beginning and growth~ of this work but it is impossible to do that in our present issue. We hope however, to give it later, because we believe it is very important for our readers to know about the va-rious possibilities ot: the lay apostolate. For the present, we content ourselves with printing this informal article written by a Rural Parish Worker who signs herself, Miss Mary. The material in this article can be obtained in brochure form from: The Rural Parish Wokers of Christ the King, Route 1, Box 194, Cadet, Mis-souri.] THE residence and center of the Rural Parish Workers of Christ the King (laywomen dedicated to the service of their neighbors in rural areas) is at Fertile.in the large rural parish of St. ,Joa-chim, Washington County, Missouri'. This is picturesque with its rolling hills, great trees and valleys, but there is evidence of poverty everywhere to mar its beauty. The inhabitanl~s for the most part are a poor, uneducated, generous, loving, and appreciative people. The Rural Parish Workers, cooperating with the pastor, do much to edu-cate, see social justice done, relieve want, spread Catholic Action in the area. I'm spending a year with the Rural Parish Workers, participating in their work and sharing in all their activities. This means sharing in the spiritual life also . . . daily Mass, Prime and Compline or Lauds and Vespers in English, individual recitation ot: the. Rosary, reading and study. This summer when I first arrived, along with two other volun-teers, Miss Pat and Miss Christina, plans for the Open House were already under way. This project is given yearly under the sponsor-ship of a group of men to make new friends for the Parish Workers and spread word of their work. We three pitched right in, helping clean up house and grounds with the neighbors and others who came to help. A week later the big day came. So did 1000 visitors. About the middle of the afternoon Mol~her .Nature came along with the 242 RURAL PARISH WORKERS biggest rain of the season! Many persgns hurried home, but many stayed, so we served food all over the house and on the porches until everyone was happily fed. That night we washed up the biggest gobs of mud and thanked God for a very wonderful day in spite of the rain. Not long after Open House we had a Clothing Giveaway for the needy people. Several times we went on visits in different parts of the parish which is 150 square miles in size. Can you imagine people who live only 50 miles from St. Louis being so isolated as not to see other human beings for weeks at a time? Well, I can state this is the truth. In 3uly a neighbor took us to visit such a family. You can imagine how glad the old couple were to see us. Even though we had been jostled around on the back of a truck (the only way we could get through the woods) and then soaked in a sudden down-pour of rain! Baptisms During another visit a littl~ girl came running across the road. "Could we come over right" away?" A neighbor's new-born baby was dying and the parents wanted Miss LaDonna or Miss Alice to baptize it. So we thankfully watched another child added to God's family in the car of the doctor who was taking the baby to the hos- ¯ pithl. We were present for many weddings in the parish church this summer. But one morning the celebration was for a different reason ¯ . . the baptism of an entire family instructed by Miss LaDonna. We volunteers were happy to witness the event and to take part in 'their joy. Although life with the Parish Workers is anything but routine, there are some things that must be done regularly. Each of us kept her own room neat and clean, and helped with the thorough weekly cleaning. We took turns, two together, in preparing meals and washing the dishes. Each evening one of us volunteers got to milk the goat. This was quite a thrill for us city girls. We volunteers helped Miss Alice with the outside work such as tying up grape vines, wa-tering trees, pulling weeds, raking gravel in the newly-made drive, etc. The Parish Workers' clean-up activities aren't limited t6 their own home, however. One afternoon we all went to watch the completing of the purifi-cation of the spring used by the people of the immediate area. The 243 RURAL PARISH WORKERS Reoieu) for Religious Parish Workers had had the spring cleaned and enclosed in 'concrete with a pipefor'tbe water to run through. This prevents people from dipping their buckets into the .waterand has greatly improved the health of the children in the neighborhood. After an especially b,u~y week we were all preparing for a day of rest when an elderly man came to the door. He bad walked several miles to tell us that his grandson was suffering from a brain tumor and must be rushed to the hospital ira.mediately. Could we get him in? So, this ended our day of rest and sent us on an errand of mercy. Several times this summer Father Bede, O.S.B., spiritual director of the Rural Parish Workers, visited us and gave us many interesting and enlightening talks which broadened our knowledge of the lay ¯ apostolate and helped our spiritual growth. Seven Weeks for doing something you thoroughly enjoy are too short as we three volunteers discovered when the Summer Session came to an end. We all left with heavy hearts. Miss Pat had to re-turn to school. Miss Christina was needed at borne. And I went borne to prepare my winter clothing and tell my family that I in-tended to return in September for a year.of service. Instructions Upon my return [ entered more fuIly into the life of a Parish Worker. Activities began with the start of weekly religious instruc-tions for the public scl~ool children. My class of twenty youngsters is made up of 2nd to 4th graders who have received their First Holy Communion. I find them very attentive and well-behaved with a thirst for knowledge. I had returned to Fertile when the country was most beautiful and the large pears on our tree were ready for picking. I donned a ¯ pair of blue jeans and an old shirt and had the time of my life climbing the tree and shaking down the pears, using the garden rake for the hi~hest branches. Seven bushels of delicious fruit were added to our pantry and shared with our neighbors. In October we entertained the members of the Parish Workers' Advisor~ Board and their wives ata buffet supper. Miss Par'and Miss Christina came to help with this gala affair., We all had so much fun together they were reluctant to leave. But plans were made to get together again when time came for selecting and packing Christmas gifts for.the 250 children in the families we assist during the year. 244 September, 1953 RURAL PARISH WORKERS Travel The distribution and sorting of clothes for these families has been given me as my special project, and I must admit I find it both interesting and helpful. Interesting because of a natural woman's instinct wondering what I will discover in each box I open, for these boxes and packages come to Fertile from all over, sometifnes from as far away as NeW York. And helpful, for in this exploited area wages are very low. Many times we bear of a child out of school bedause of no shoes or other clothing. And for many families the only new baby clothes are those we are able to supply in the layettes generously donated by women and college girls interested in this apostolate I am learning to drive. " If you ask'the Parish Workers how I am doing they ~vill answer, "Wonderfully well." But if.y6u put the question to me ~ am afraid you would receive a different answer. However, I shall keep on-, for often I could help out if I were able to drive the station wagon myself. We travel many miles,each month. Over two thousand is the average now. A number of trips are made to St. Louis, eSl~ecially to clinics and hospitals. One such trip concerned my special ,family. While visiting them one day I noticed the baby looked ill. He was terribly undernourished anyway, and I was truly worried about him. We telephoned a St. Louis hospital and the Sister told us a bed'would be available as soon as we could get.him there. The familywere un-able to pay anything but the baby remained in the hospital seven weeks and is now doing wonderfully. From.time to time I ~ake visits with ~ne of thd Parish Workers. One morning it was necessary to make a trip to the courthouse to see the judge about a f~imily we were helping. I was more than giad to be risked to go along as I would get the opportunity to meet some of the civic officials and learn how,they and the Parish Workers work together to help others. Since I have been here I have learned much about Secularigm and Communism and the inroads tb~y baremade in our country. I am also learning how to detect their prop~an~la in radio programs, newspaper articles, etc. Accompanying Miss LaDonna to the Well-Baby Clinic was al-ways a pleasure., until one day she pulled a fastone and asked the County nurse to give me a typhoid shot. Of course I knew about"it beforehand, but being a city girl I really h~d.~'tthought, much about it., We take pure drinking, water, for gr~inted' in the city, but out here 245 RURAL PARISH WORKERS Review for Religious it's different. All the water is from creel~s and springs like the one the Parish Workers fixed up last summer. The home of the Parish Workers is an old brick house. Major remodeling has made it into a modern home with many conveniences so that they may devote as, much time as possible to their apostolate of serving others. Minor work in the house proceeds slowly, one room at a time, and furniture is supplied by donations. Most of it we repair or repaint, but recently a women's group brought out a complete flew bedroom outfit which the Parish Workers placed in .my room. "Harmonious surroundings help in the development of a Christian home'," they always say. I know for sure they are relaxing at the end of a busy day. The apostolate of the Rural Parish Workers is not well known, although for several years, under the patronage of the Most Reverend Archbishop of St. Louis, they have been quietly working among the poor and downtrodden. So now we send out a monthly memo of recent news to The King's Men, an auxiliary of the Parish Workers. This and other secretarial work enables me to make good use of my typing learned in high school. Christmas There is always activity here at Fertile, but preparations for Christmas are something to behold. First, making of the Advent wreath. Three days before Advent we gathered pine from a large pine forest nearby. I had the pleasure of helping make thewreath, which we hung from the living room ceiling. ¯ With its four candles. magenta-colored ribbons and fresh green l~ine it was a beautiful re-minder of the season of preparation for the great Feast of the Nativ-ity as well as of the long period of waiting for the first "coming .of Christ over 1900 years ago. Decorations in the house were c.hanged to conform with the spirit of the season, and each evening after sup-per, as we lit the candles, one the first week, two the second, and so on, and asked God's help and blessing, we seemed to come closer to the Divine Infant soon to be born again in our hearts on Christmas Day. It was during one of these evenings when all felt in a gay and joyous mood that we selected the °"jewels" for our decorated cross. We finally all agreed on the selection and then could hardly wait for Christmas to hang the beautiful cross with its sparkling stones of red, yellow and blue. Several trips were made to St. Louis and near- 246 September, 1953 RURAL PARISH WORKERS by towns for Christmas shoppi.ng ~and to pick up clothes, canned goods, toys and candy donated by generous friends for "the needy. Also to distribute gifts to our families and friends~ Miss Pat and Miss Christina returned for a week-e.nd to help with the toys, sacramentals, and candy for the children. We were all busily engaged in this task when the Auxiliary Bishop, Most Reverend Charles H. Helrrising, arrived for a short visit with the ¯ Parish Workers. He .gave us his blessing and told us to tell others ot the need for volunteers in this rural apostolate. The following week we packed food for all the needy people of the area. We could gix;e large boxes, due to the generosity of our friends. Gifts and candy were also prepared for our children in the Sunday classes. Several trips were made to the parish church with the station wagon full of people. We live eight miles from church and "many neighbors .would have no way to get to. confession or Holy Mass if it were not for the Parish Workers. Even on the day before Christmas as we worked on the Crib and tree, time was taken so that no one would miss the opportunity to receive Holy Communion on the great feast. As we finished trimming the tree we realized the season of prepa-ration bad ended. Gifts had been hung on the tree ready for the children when they came to visit during Christmas week. They would come with hearts full 6f joyand expectancy to receive their gifts. And we were ready, too . . ." for the greatest Gift of all, ~he Son of God Himself. At Vespers on Christmas Eve the lights from the four candles of the wreath flickered and caught in the jeWels of the decorated cross. A feel!ng of peace and joy filled each of us. Later when we drove with our neighbors to Midnight Mass we could almost hear the Angels singing, "Glory to God in the.highest . . ." And afterwards the gently falling snow seemed to enhance the feeling of peace and love as all exchanged the Merry Christmas greeting. I have written of many things during my first six months with the Rural Parish Workers. There are many more, all pointed to the development of Christian homes, wi~:h interest in government, edu-cation, culture and religious welfarel But you have not the time, ¯ nor I the space to include them here. UPon reading this you may. ti~ink all is Work and no play. But that is not true. Recreation is impor~tar~t in the life of a Parish. Worker. And in the evening you may find us reading, listening to. 247 SISTER M. AGNESINE, Review [or Religious the radio, playing cards, doing hand work according to one's inte~- "ests, and occasionally going to a movie. This summer we even took time out to, go swimming, hiking, picnicking, or for an evening drive. You see, we are just one happy family and all share in one another's joys or" sorrows, working, praying and p, laying together for the glory of God and the service, of.our neighbors. " If I intend becoming a Rural Parish Worker I must spend a pe-riod of reading and instruction, and learning what my duties would be in this area or any area to which I may be sent. Already I have seen the need of the work and the good the Parish Workers are doing. So I say, "God bless them and all their under-takings, and please send more workers for this vineyard." Paging !:he Religion Teacher Sister M. Agnesine, S.S.N.D. " " THE story is told of a prosperous business man who claimed that allMs success was due to a single statement left him as a legacy by his father: "My son, when everything goes wrong with you and ill luck seems to pursue you, then look around and see where you are mismanaging things." Instead of throwing up our hands in despair, as we realize the cryi~ag needs of a world strayed far from its. Maker, suppose that we, too, look around to see whether by any chance we religion teachers might be mismanaging things. Making Religion a Living Reality Granted that we are thoroughly equipped, theologically and in-tellectually, what else is required to assure our success? Let us as-sume that we teach our religion classes regularly and cgnscientiously. We may even boast that our pupils know all the answers. But have we any assurance that they also accept these truths and are prepared to live them? In other words, have we set their hearts on fire with love and motivated their wills with .a strong determination to live their religion intelligently and consistently all th'rough life? Their words alone are not sutticient assurance: neither is their more or less praiseworthy conduct in school. Their religion must be a-living re-ality. It must be~:gme so much a part, of their being that they can- 248 SeptemSer, 1953 PAGING THE RELIGION TEACHER not. lose it without losing life itself. To imbue children with such. a living faith means more than merely teaching Christian Doctrine. It means keeping in mind the fundamental needs of our times and directing pupils to meet these needs according to God's plan. It means, therefore, to help them un~derstand and appreciate God's complete ownership of the world and all it holds, and instilling in them a deep reverence for His au-thority. ,It means helping them to evaluate the things of time in the light of eternity; of making them seeall of life from God's point of view. It means preparing them to meet the problems of life, whether as humble employees, as members of a Christian family, or as leaders of a nation. It means impressing them with a sense of responsibility not only toward God but toward their fellowmen, whom they must recognize as members of the My.stical Body of Christ. It means, finally, giving them a sense of direction, so that they will always and above all things keep clearly in view their eternal destiny. Knou)ing Not Onlg What But Also Hou) to Teach How can the religion teacher,acco, mplisb so tremendous a task? He dare not excuse himself by saying that it is primarily the function of the home to train theyoung for Christian living. For, while he cannot, exempt parents from their duties, the wise teacher will first re-establish Christian ideals in the home through the boys and girls in his classes by teaching them to understand and accept the responsi-bilities of Christian marriage and Christian family life. All of this means more than imparting knowledge. It is not the printed or spoken word alone, no matter bow important in itself, that is necessarily convincing. If the teacher is to gain the desired effect, be must know not only u)bat to teach but how to teach. He must not only inform the pupil's mind but also aim to arouse his emotions to love the faith and to move his will to accept and live it. "Religion is no use" says Father Drinkwater, "until it is accepted and" lived." Teaching b~j Example To teach religion for Christian li~ing, therefore, we must pene-trate the thick shell of modern materialism which surrounds the n~en-tality of even our Catholic pupils. But to be able to do so, we must first of all be living examples of the truths we teach. To the young--. and to the old as well--we are the Church, ~ve are religion, we are 249 SISTER M. AGNESINE Review [or Religious Christ. And unless we outrival in all that is ¯good and true,.in all that is. noble and beautiful in the highest sense Of tl~e ~word, those who, knowingly or otherwise, contrive to shape .the aims, the atti-tudes, and the ideals of the young, we cannot hope to influence them for life. If we.teach that religion must take prec.edence over all other values in life and that therefore the religion lesson is the most imPor-tant of all subjects on the program, then we ourselves ¯will have to put first things first and prove by our regularity and zeal that we mean what we say. Then, too, we will quite naturally do all in our power to make the lesson the most fascinating and interesting sub-ject taught in the school. That means, ir~ the second place, that the teacher must have some knowledge of the techniques of teaching. All too many instructors of religion are still under the impression that all they need to do is to explain the subject ~ind that the child will naturally imbibe what is being said. They do not realize that in spite of a seemingly atten-tive attitude, the pupil is often miles ~way during the religion period : like the boy who, after hearing a long explanation of what it means to be selfish and unselfish, innocently asked the teacher what kind of fish that was. Making the Lesson Purposeful and Effectit)e The following questions may help the teacher to see more clearly whether the proper means are being used to make the lesson effective. Do I know how best to appeal to the child's heart, in language adapted to his age and ability? Do I strive not only to teach the Catechism lesson but more particularly to give children a lasting love and appreciation of those sacred truths? If they are leaving the Cath-olic school or study group shortly after these instructions, am I rea-sonably sure that I have instilled into their hearts the desire to grow in the knowledge and love of their faith, through the grace of the sacraments and also through a desire for further study and readir~g? Do I have a fund of convincing illustrations and stories, prefer-ably out of everyday life, that come close to the experience and un-derstanding of my pupils, so that they will the more' readily retain what I have tried to impress upon. them? Do I giye my students an opportunity to do things for them-selves, to ask questions, and think things througb.? Or do I do all the talking myself and take it for granted that th~ pupils are thinking and learning? 250 SISTER M. AGNESlNE, Review for Religious Do I know how to motivate their wills to action so that th~ knowledge of the truths they have learned will carry over to future years? When I teach the Mass, for example, do my pupils giadually learn to live and apply its beautiful prayers and lessons to themselves, not only for the present but especially for th~ years to come? Do I aim to bridge the gap between the day's seemingly unrelated lesson to tomorrow's realities? The sacrament of matrimony with all its implications is a case in point. How well do I prepare espe-cially those pupils who are about to leave the Catholic school, to ac-cept and appreciate the Church's teachings on the subject, and to lay firm hold on high ideals of Christian family life for future use? Am I familiar with the many teaching aids that are at my dis-posal to make my work more interesting and to help deepen the im-pression? Do I know how to use them to the best advantage? There are charts and pictures, fil~ns and slides in abundance. Can I distin-guish between what is most helpful and what is merely ~ntertaining? Do I realize the importance of making careful preparation for the daily.lesson? To outline my objectives? To divide the subject mat-ter according to its imporian~e and time allotment? To test pupil knowledge and particularly to evaluate my own teaching? reading By wrong, things. Acquiring Skill in Techniques How can the religion teacher acquire a fuller knowledge of those procedures that will best insure success? Here are a few suggestions: By accepting wholeheartedly the~ responsibility to teach ~eligion for living, that is, in a manner that will help those whom he teaches to lead fully integrated Christian lives. By keeping an open mind and realizing that no matter how ex-perienced or learned he may become, there is always room for im-- provement. " By prayerfully and conscientiously preparing the daily lessons and by carefully thinking the subject matter through himself, so that he may present it most effectively. .By keeping in touch with modern methods of teaching, through and lectures, and by observing experts in the field. looking around occasionally, especially when things go to see whether by any chance he might be mismanaging If, then, we are willing to face our problems and to set about en-thusiastically learning how to meet them, we may hope to add our little share in the great work of restoring 'all things in Christ. 251 Prac :ice: ot: !:he I-Ioly . ee Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ~ T IS both profitable and commendable for religious to study the ~ d0~uments of the Holy See that affec~ their state of life., .This is particularly true at present, when the Sacred Congregation of Religious is exercising a more .positive and directive influence on the lives of religious. This article is devoted prin~ipally to' documents addr,essed to individual religious institutes. These are evidently not a matter of general knowledge but they are of general utility, since they reveal the practice and thee principles of the Holy See. I. ERECTION AND PONTIFICAL. APPROVAL OF CONGREGATIONS 1.Constituti.ons of. a new diocesan congregation. For at least the licit erection of a new diocesan congregation, the local Ordinary must first consult the Sacred ,Congregation of Religious.1 This. con-sultation is to be addressed to the S. C. of the Propagation of the Faith for the .erection of native congregations in missionary countries. Diocesafi constitutions should be compiled in conformity with the Code of Canon Law and the practice of the Holy See as found in the approved constitutions of pontifical congregations. They ate to dif-fer from pontifical constitutions only in the matters proper to dioce- .san congregations. For the attainment of this end the practice of the S. C. of the Propagati~'n of the Faith had already commanded that after the erection of the new congregation: "The Constitutions of the new congregation, in Latin and in the vernacular (at least six copies), must as soon as possible be submitted to this Sacred Congregation so that they may be duly examined, amended, and returned with suit-able remarks to the Ordinary, to be approved by him.''2 The S. C. of Religious now follows the same practice and demands that the local Ordinary present the complete text of the 'constitutions with the con-sultation for the erection of the new diocesan congregation.3 At least one author had previously recommended such a practice to local Or-dinaries.~ The fear, already expressed by some authors, that this oractice 1Can. 492. § 1. 2Bouscaren, II, 158, n. 10. 3Larraona, CpR, XXVIII (1949), 228, nota ). 4Muzzarelli, n. 53. 252 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE will ~ause an excessive similarity in the constitutions of various insti-tutes can be avoided by greater care in the. compil~tion of the spir-itual, as distinct from the canonical, ~rticles of the constitutions. The practice will also preclu,de the opposition that often arises when the ihstitute wishes to become pontifical. This opposition is usually con-cerned" with matters that are thought to be new but which should have been contained in the diocesan constitutions of the congregation, for example,~e system of delegates for the. general chapter and the six-year term~'Bf the superior general. 2. Mbtters to be presented fora decree of praise. A diocesan con-gregat! on ordinarily becomes pontifical by a decree of praise, With which the Holy See practically always now grants an experimental approval of the constitutions for seven years. The conditions neces-sary for pontifical approval are: the congregation by a sufficient test~ of time should have given proof of stability, religious observance, and of spirituai profit in its work; it is sufficient that the congregation number one hundred and fifty ~nembers and.is not necessary that the congregation have houses in more than one diocese. These facts are established primarily from the testimonial letters of the local Ordi-naries. To obtain a decree of praise the following matters are to be sent to the S. C. of Religious: a) A petition for the decree, of praise addressed to the Ron~an Pontiff and signed by the superior general and his or her c~uncillors. b) The testimonial letters of all the local Ordinaries in whose dioceses or territories the congregation has houses. Each local Ordi-nary is to send his letter directly to the S. Congregation. c) The"number of religious and houses. The S. Congregation will be aided in its judgment on the system of delegates for the gen-eral chapter !f the houses are listed in a tabular form that gives sepa-rarely the number of professed of perpetual and temporary vows in each house. d) The name in religion, full name in the world, and a brief biography of the founder or foundress and of the first superior of the congregation. e) The S. Congregation is to be informed of any extraordinary facts, such as visions and the like, .that occurred at the foundation of the congregation or thereafte~ and also of the special devotions and special and. favored religious exercises of the congregation. f) A copy of any special book of prayers in use in the congrega-tion. 253 ,JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious g) A colored picture of the habit of the professed and of the novices. h) 30 typed copies of the constitutions. These should prefer-ably be in Latin, but French or Italian is admissible. The constitu-tions should have been revised, for the new pontifical status and have been previously examined and approved by the local Ordinary of the motherhouse. They are to conform to the Code of Canon Law and the practice .of FheHoly See, and are to contain the norms and safe-guards necessary for attaining the special end of the c~regation. A recent form letter of the S. Congregati6n appears to demand only two copies of the constitutions, but it is not certain that the former num-ber of thirty is no longer obligatory,s i) Information is to be given as to the number of members who were formerly in other religious institutes. j) An historico-juridical account of the congregation from its beginning. k) A quinquennial report, which may be in the vernacular, for the five years immediately preceding the petition and compiled ac-cording to the questions of the new quinquennial report for pontifical institutes. 'A question that can apply only. to a pontifical institute will obviously not be pertinent. ¯ l) It is to be stated whether there are other religious institutes in the diocese with the same special purpose. m) If the congregation is a third order, an attestation of aggre-gation from the superior general of the first order must accompany the petition. n) The. superior general, with the consent of the local Ordinary of the motherhouse, is to designate a secular or religious priest resident in Rome to act as agent for the matter with the S. Congregation. 3. Miscellaneous details. The expense incurred at Rome for the de:- cree of praise is to be classed as insignificant. The. process can be quite slow. One American congregation mailed the necessary mat-ters to Rome in June, 1950, and received the reply in March, i953. During the pontificate of Pius XII (1939-1952) the decree of praise has been obtained by ninety-two congregations; the highest number in any one year was twelve;" and eight of the congregations listed have their motherbouses in the United States.6 4. Continuance of superiors in ottice. Muzzarelli states that on the scf. Guti,%rez, CpR, XXXIV (1953), 129. 6Cf.Guti~rrez, ibid., 130-138. 254 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE occasion of obtaining pontifical approval .or of a new approbation of the constitutions the general, provincial, and local superiors.remain in office but only for the time for which they had been elected or ap-pointed. At the expiration of this period a new election or appoint-ment is necessary. The ~ame principle is to be applied to general, provincial, and local councillors and officials. Canon la.w regulate.s precisely the duration in office of a local su-perior, who may not have more than two successive full three-year terms in the sam~ house inclusive of the time in office hnder the for-mer and the new constitutions. However, in the case of higher su-periors the Code merely.prescribes that they are to be temporary and leaves the determined legislation on the duration.and re-election or re-appointment to the constitutions. The almost universal practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions now gives the superior gen-eral a term of six years and permits an immediate re-election only for a second ttrm. A mother general who had two full six-year terms expiring after the approval of the new constitutions is fully eligible for a six-year term, and even for immediate re-election on the expira-tion of this term, under the newly approved constitutions. The time spent in office under the former constitutions is not to be computed, since these have now lost all force.7 II. LAW 1, Observance ot: laud. It is evidently the duty of superiors to en-force the exact observance of all the pertinent laws of the Church on religious, the Rule, and the constitutions. Negligence in the observ-ance of inual[dating laws on religious can have most serious conse-quences, and this is especially true of invalidating laws on the novice-. ship and professions. The S. C. of Religious gently admonished the superiors of one institute to be more diligent in the future in com-plying with all the laws on the noviceship and the professions. 2. Exaggerated custom books. Customs are necessary for order, effi-ciency, and reasonable uniformity, but some custom books have been too minute and oppressive. From unofficial reports and summaries this appears to have been the thought at the meeting of superioresses general of pontifical institutes held at Rome in September, 1952. Greater attention is to be given to the spirit of the law, since the law of any institute should be the incarnation of its spirit. Not many prayers, but prayer is what is necessary. Formalism, legalism, and ;Muzzarelli, pp. 206-207. 255 JOSgPH F. GALLEN ' Revietv for Religious externalism are to be avoided. The centering of the religious life in the fulfillment of innumerable details, formalities, and observances should be abandoned. Religious are magnanimgus souls who have sacrificed everything to attain and intensify the love of God, not fussy externalists. III. HABIT OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN 1. Form o~ the "~abit. Pius XII expressed the. general principle on the habit of religious women when he state~l that it should manifest the consecration to Christ, religious simplicity and modesty, and be in conformity with time, place, work, and hygiene.8 This norm does not demand any universal and fundamental change in the traditional habit of religious women. Furthermore, the prin, ciple is not new in the practice of the Holy See. The Normae of 1901 stated that the habit in material, form, arrangement, and color~ should conform to religious dignity, gravity, modesty, and poverty, and that "it should exclude any adornment that was apt to l~rovoke adverse comment or ridicule.9 In its typical constitutions for diocesan missio.nary con-gregations the S. C. of tl~e Propagation of the' Faith enjoined: "The habit is to be simple, accommodated to the usages of the people and the climate and not to European customs.''1° In the Statutes for Ex-tern Sisters the S. C. of Religious cdmmanded that the habit of these sisters was to be suitably adapted to their external work and also to external and local circumstances.1~ Sincere reverence for the religio~s habit does not exclude neces-sary modifications. The more practical doubts that arise about some habits seem to be of the following nature: Is sufficient allowance made in .the habit as a whole for the heat of summer and the cgld of winter? The cove~ing of tl~e head and face often causes a questiQn in the chance observer by its stiffness, closeness, ornateness, the time evi-dently necessary for laundering, the extension of the covering beyond the face, and in a.few cases this part of the habit appears to be pro-vocative of adverse comment. We may be permitted one illustration of these observations. The extension beyond the, face does not con-tribute to safety in driving an au.tomobile, frequently makes conver-sation somewhat unnatural, and ~nust be an obstacle in such cases as working on .a patient with a doctor. This is not the most serious SAAS, 43 (1951), 741; 44 (1952),.825. . 9Normae of 1901, nn. 66-67. ' lONormae pro Constitutionibus" Cong(egationum luris Dioecesani, n. 19. IIStatuta a Sororibus Externis Seruanda, n. 26. 256 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE defect that has b~en noted in some religious habits. The sane and practical principles of the Holy See are clear in themselves. Each habit should be sincerely examined on its conformity with these prin-ciples. 2. White habit. The Holy See has f~equently approved in constitu'- tions an ;irticl~ permitting the use of the white habit to hospital sis-ters and to those for whom such dress is necessitated or counselled by other duties or the climate. This habit is accordingly in use in sev-" eral institutes in the infirmary, kitchen, in teaching home economics, and. in similar duties. We can argue safely from the practic~ of the Holy See that such a use of th~ white habit is permitted in all insti-tutes of religious women. The white habit should be as similar as possibl'e to the ordinary habit within the demands of hospital effi-ciency, which is its primary use. The ordinary habit does not have. to be worn under the white habit. 3. Change in the habit. A change in the habit of a pontifical insti-tute or of a diocesan congregation whose habit had been submitted to the judgment of the Holy See may not be made wit,ho,ut the permis-sion of the Holy See; in other diocesan congregations the permissior{ of all the Ordinaries in whose dioceses the congregation has houses is necessary and sufficient.12 Since the habit ik prescribed by the consti-tutions, a change must also have been previously approved by the general chapter. It can be safely held that only a change in the ex-ternal appearance of the habit demands these formalities. The Nor-mae of 1901 required the permission of the S. Congregation only for a change in the appearance (t:orrna) of the habit,13 and the Holy See approves constitutions that demand the permission of the S. Congre-gation only for a change-in the form or color. These constitutions. permit the mother general with at least the advice of her council to, make other changes in the habit, for example, in the material, and this norm should be followed by all institutes for a change that does hot affect the externa! appearance of the habit. IV. DOWRY AND RENUNCIATION OF PATRIMONY IN CONGREGATIONS l. Dowrg. The dowry'is and always has been proper to institutes of women. An amount larger than the one prescribed may be re-ceived as a dowry. An institute that does not exact a dowry may ~2Can. 495, '§ 2. 13Normae of 1901, n. 70; cf. n. 69. 257 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reviev2/:or Religious receive a dowry that is f~eely offered as such. A subject may give, comple'te, or augment a dowry during the novic~ship and after first or final simple profession. In all the cases listed above the amount that may be given is unlimited, but any amount accepted as a dowry is subject to the laws on the dowry. ' These statements are accepted canonical doctrine.14 2. Renunciation of patrimong in'a congregation of women. The point here can be more clearly proposed in the form of a case. Sister M. Anita, a professed sister in a congregation, has a patrimony of $50,000. She wishes to give the entire amount to her institute, but can. 583, 1°, forbids her, whether her congregation is pontifical or diocesan, to give away this money during her life without a _dispensa-tion from the Holy See. When asked recently for such a dispensa-tion, the S. Congregation replied that the sister, without any permis-sion. of the Holy See~ could give the money to her institute as a dowry or as an increase in her dowry. If the institute wishes to spend any part of the $50,000, permission of the Holy See will be necessary, because can. 549 forbids the expenditure of the dowry. This per-missio, n will be given if the. institute furnishes satisfactory guarantee of returning the capital sum to the sister in the event of her departure from the institute. The interest on the $50,000 is acquired abso-lutely by the institute, but the capital sum must be restored to Sister M. Anita if she definitively leaves the institute, licitly or illicitly, whether her vows have been dispensed or not,15 This is the prefer-able solution of the case, since it was proposed by the S. Congrega-tion itself. The same solution may be followed in any congregation of reli-gious women for either a professed or a novice. A dowry given during the noviceship passes into the revocable proprietorship of the institute only at first profession and thus is not a violation of can. 568, which invalidates any renunciation or obligation that a novice places on his or her patrimony during the noviceship.16 The institute is the mere depositary of the dowry, without p~oprietorship, use, or usufruct during the postulancy and noviceship. 3. Renunciation of patrimonV in a congregation of men or women. The prohibitior~ of can. 583, 1°, quoted above, applies to all congre-gations of men Or women. However, according to the common in- 14Cf. q. 194 of the Quinquennial Report [or Pontifical Institutes. 1SCan. 551, § I. 16Cf. Larraona, CpR, XIX (1938), nora 17. 258 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE terpretation, this prohibition does not ~xtend to the case in which t'he patrimony is given away, wholly or partially, on the agreement and with secure guarantee that it will be restored if- the religious should leave the institute or be dismissed. Professed religious in congrega-tions of men may thus follow this solution, for example, to give their patrimony to their institute. If this solution is follbwed, no law of the Code obliges the institute to secure the permission of the Holy See for the spending of the money. 4. Partial renunciation of patrimony in a congregation of men or women. Without any permission .of the Holy See, professed reli-gious iri congregations of men or women may with safe pr6bability give away absolutely to anyone even a large part of their patrimony provided the amount retained is sufficient to take care of the support of the religious in the event of departure from the.institute. A patri-mony that is. so small as to be entirely inadequate for such support does not fall under the prohibition of can. 583, 1% and may be given away absolutely to anyone,a7 5. New tendency in povert~l of congregations. There are indications that some wish the poverty arising from the simple vow in congre-gations to be made the same or at least to approach more closely the poverty effected by solemn profession, for example, by permitting the professed of simple perpetual vows in congregations to give away all their patrimony.~8 Only one known concession has thus far been granted by the Holy See in this matter. An institflte of religious women of simple vows obtained the following indult from the Holy See in February, 1951: "With the consent of the Prioress General and of bet Council, and upon a favourable report from the Mother .I_n_st_ructor, the religiou.s __m_a.y.at. tb.e _e.n_~ of .tb_e!_r tert.ianship, that is, about ten years after their first profession in the Institute, and pro-vided they have made perpetual vows, renounce their personal prop-erty present and future in favour of the persons or institutions whom they judge before God to merit their preference." V. ADMISSION OF ASPIRANTS The following articles, found in some constitutions recently ap-proved by the Holy See, will be of interest to other institutes. The candidate is obliged to present a testimonial of her free state, that is, lvCf. Bastien, n. 543, 3; Larraona. CpR, II (1921), 71-76. lSCf. Acta et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfectionis, I, 377,429- 431. 259 3OSEPH'F. GALLEN " Ret~ietu for .Religious ¯ of her freedom from impediments. The testimonial of good character is to ,be obtained from the pastor or another known priest. ,The S. Congregation inserted the following article in one set of' constitu-tions: "The Mother General is to interrogate accuratgly on the mat-ter of health, especially concerning diseases that are classed as heredi-tary, and she is to record in writing the replies of both the aspirant and her.parents or guardians." VI. P0STULANCY Although the practice of the Holy See was said to demand that the time of the postul~ncy be accurately determined in the constitu-tions, thre'e sets of constitutions recently approved for congregations of sisters state this time only indefinitely, that is, "for .at least six months," and "not less than six months." A. congregation 6f sisters, whose postulancy is six months, re-quested and,received from the Holy See an indult for fivel years to prolong the postulancy two and a half months for all. This pro-longation will make it possible to complet~ a full coll~ge year during the postulancy. The Apostolic Delegate possesses the faculty of shortening or prolonging the postulancy prescribed by canon law.19 VII. SECOND YEAR OF NOVICESHIP 1. Dispensation. Canon law commands only one year of novice-ship, but many institutes prescribe a second year by the law of their own constitutions. The Holy See evidently does not wish an insti-tute to make a ~practice of asking dispensations from this second year. One pontifical congregation added the second year only recently, and {he Holy See granted an indult for three yeats to one of its provinces to have only. one year of noviceship. The province was.in extra-ordinary and urge.nt need of personnel. 2. Ernptogment in external" works. On November 3, 1921, the "S. C. of Religious issued an Instruction for all congregations, pon-tifical and diocesan, on the employment of novices in the external works of the institute during the second year of noviceship. " The Holy See inserts the principles of this Instruction in the constitutions of pontifical congregations. They should, therefore, be contained also in'diocesan constitutions, either approved 6riginally or revised after the promulgation of the Instruction.' These princil~!es are: (a) The spiritual formation proper to the noviceship.must be pri- 19Bouscaren, 1948 Supplement, 131. 260 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE mary in the second year, employment in external works secondary. (b) This employment is allowable only if permitted by the consti- . tutions, custom, or usage of the congregation. (c) The only licit motive for such employment is the instruction of the novices, never th,e utility or advantage of the congregaiion. (d) The employment is to be carried out witb.~ruderice and moderation. Novices are never to have the sole charge of any external employment but are to work under the direction and supervision of an experienced and exemMary religious. (e) Novices may not be sent out of the novitiate house for such employment unless this is permitted by the constitutions, custom, or usage and the motive is exceptional, extraordinary, seri-otis, and based solely on ~be requirements of the. novice's t~aining, never on the necessity or advantage of the congregation. (F) All such employments must be given up for the two full months pre-ceding first profession, and this time is to be devoted wholly to svir-itual formation and to preparation for profession in the novitiate house?0 A congregation of sisters stated simply in a quinq.uennial report that i~ employed the second-year novices in external works. The reply of the Holy See contained the statement that the Instruction quoted above was to be observed.21 An unofficial summary of the Roman meeting of superioresses general quotes the Secretary of the S. Congregation, Father Larraona, as having r~asserted the principles of the Instruction. He is also reported as having stated that there are always dangers attendant upon this work outside the novitiate. The motive for a second year of noviceship has b~en the necessity of a deeper spiritual formation in institutes, devoted to a very active life. This motive is verified in practically all modern congre, gations. No one experienced in the training of young religious will deny that two years are too brief a period for a proper spiritual formation. It is not very reasonable to prescribe prudently a second year of novice-ship in law and then imprudently overturn the law in fact. This is the reason why the S. Congregation insists on the fundamental prin-ciple that the second year must be maintained as a year of novicesbip. Employment outside the novitiate house should be even mor~ care-fully avoided. The practical consequence of separation from the master or mistress o'f novices is almost always'the lack of any spir-itual formation proper to a noviceship. A sincere examination of the ~°Bouscaren I, 302-304. ¯ 21Cf. q. 176 of the Quinquenn:,al Ro~ort for Pontifical Institutes. 261 JOSEPH F. (3ALLEN ReOiew for Religio,,s effects of employing the second-yehr novices in external works will lead to a more universal observance of this most important Instruc-tion of the Holy See. VIII. PROFESSION I. Dispensation from longer period of temporary vows. The Code of Canon Law prescribes that a perpetual profession, solemn or simple, is invalid unless preceded by three full years of temporary vows.zz Only the Holy See may wholly or partially abbreviate this triennium in any institute; since the abbreviation would be a dispen-sation from the law of the Roman Pontiff. The same principle and reason are true with regard to permitting perpetual profession before the completion of the twenty-first year.23 Some institutes impose a longer period of temporary vows by the law of tfieir own constitutions. This period is usually five, much more rarely six, years. These added years are required only for the liceity o~ perpetual profession unless the constitutions certainly de~ mand them for validity. The latter is practically never permitted by the Holy See in approving constitutions. The constitutions of one pontifical congregation of brothers state that the prescribed five years of temporary .vows are required for the validity of its simple per-petual profession. ¯ In diocesan congregations the local Ordinary may dispense from the entir~ added duration of temporary vows if it is required only for the liceity of perpetual profession24 and probably also when it is demanded for the validity of the latter,25 since he is the legislator for such congregations.~6 Many canonis~s would very likely demand that the dispensation be secured from the Holy See in the latter case, if we mawr argue from their similar doctrine on a dispensation from the second.year of noviceship. The local Ordinary has no power to dispense in this matter in pontifical congregations. Some authors .permitted the religious superior who admits to perpetual profession to abbreviate briefly the added duration of tem-porary vows, for example, to dispense from three months of a six-year period, but they restricted this faculty to the case. in which the 2ZCan. 572, § 2; 574, § 1. ~Can. 572, § 1, I°;. 573; 574, § 1. z4Cf. Bouscaren, II, 167. 25Cf. Regatillo," Interpretatio et lurisprudentia, 172; Instituti'ones furls Canonici, I, n. 698. Z6Can. 492, § 2: 495, § 2; 80. 262 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE added duration was required only for the liceity of perpetual pro-fession. 27 However, in the constitutions of pontifical congregations recently approved, the S. C. of Religious ,has been adding the clause that the Holy Seealone may dispense wholly or partially from the added duration, even when required only for the liceity of perpetual profession. Therefore, the faculty of abbreviation given to religious superiors in the doctrine of authors quoted above is more probably not true. The better doctrine is that they possess this power only if it is expressly granted to them by a general or. particular principle of their law. Otherwise any dispensation from the added duration in pontifical congregations should be secured from the Holy See .and in diocesan congregations from the local Ordinary. 2. Prolongation of temporary prot:ession beyond six years forbidden. The point here also can be more clearly proposed in a case. Brotl~er Francis Joseph made his temporary profession at the age of seven-teen. His profession extended to the completion of his twenty-first ~'ear. At the latter time and after the brother has spent four years in temporary vows, his higher superior is doubtful of his suitability for perpetual profession. May this superior prolong the temporary vows for another three years? Tlhe source of the difficulty is can. 574, § 2, which states: "The legitimate superior may prolong this period but not beyond a second term of three years . " The more probable interpretation of this canon has been that a pro.longation is illicit if thereby the entire pe-riod of temporary vows exceeds six years. The. contrary opinion was admitted to be probable and safe. One of the arguments for the first opi.nion has been the practice of the Holy See. The S. C. of Religious has constantly admitted a prolongation of only one year when the constitutions prescribed five years of temporary vows and has excluded any prolongation when the constitutions imposed six years of temporary vows. It was con-cluded that the S. Congregation did not wish the period of temporary vows to exceed six years. This argument is strengthened by the cur-rent practice of the S. Congregation, since recently approved consti-tutions contain the explicit statement that the entire period of tem-porary vows may not exceed six years. Furthermore, Larraona states that the 1)emporary profession may never be prolonged beyond six years without violating the Code and affirms that this has been de- 27Cervia, 128; Goyeneche, CpR, IX (1928), 325; Schafer, n. 973. 263 J(~SEPH F. G?~LLEN for Religious tided in plenary sessions of the S. Congregation and in audiences.28 He and Guti~rrez state that this same doctrine is based on a reply of the Code~ Commission, has been the constant in(erpretation and prac-tice of the S. CongrFgation, and conclude that a prolongation beyond six years in any institute demands an indult of the Holy See?9 This conclusion is justified by the arguments, even though the reply of the Code Commission has not been published. The solution of the case given at the beginning of t.bis number is accordingly that the vows of Brother Francis Joseph may be pro-longed for two years but a prolo,ngation beyond the six years de-mands an indult from the Holy See, whether the institute is pontifical or diocesan. 3. Place of first ternporar~lprofession. Can. 574, § 1, commands for liceity that the first temporary profession be made in the novitiate house. The Code prescribes nothing concerning the place of sub'se-quent temporary professions nor of perpetual profession, solemn or . simple. Constitutions frequently explicitly state that these may be made in" any house of the institute. For a proportionate reason, the S. C. of Religious.will grant a dispensation permitting the first temporary profession to be m~ide outside the novitiate house. If a motherhouse is under the authority of the one local superior and consists of a novitiate, juniorate, ter-tianship, and an academy for girls, the first profession may be made in any part of such a motberhous~ without a dispen.sation from the Holy See. The canon does not demand that the first profession be made within the part of the house reserved for or used by the novices but in the novitiate bourse. Th.erefore, a first profession m~ide any- .where in the latter satisfies the prescription of this canon. 4. Private devotional renetoal of vows. Constitutions approved by the Holy See often counsel th~ freqiient private .renewal of vows, especially after the reception of Holy Communion. Such constitu-tions usually add that special indulgences are attached t'o the latter ¯ practice. It is true that an indulgence, of three years is attached to such a renewal after the celebration of Mass or the reception of Holy Communion,3° but it is difficult to see why such a fact should be men-tioned in the constitutions, which are to contain.the more funda-mental laws of the institute. ,- 2SLarraona, CpR, XXVIII (1949), 196, nota 17. ~Larraona-Guti~rrez, ibid., 332~ .nota 42. 3ORaccolta, n. 695. 264 September, 1953 5. Special vows. The Holy~ See manifested from at least 1892 that it would no longer approve special vows in new institutes.31 The -same principle has been reaffirmed on more than one occasion. congregation of sisters, approved by the Holy See before 1850, re-cently asked the S. Congregation of Religious for an authentic inter-pretation of its constitutions on the. existence of a fourth and fifth vow. The S. Congregation in its first reply affirmed the existence of ¯ both vows, since the language of the formula of profession and the history of the matter clearly indicated that these were intended as special vows. The fourth vow was the ser'~ice of the poor, sick, and ignorant. This is especially the 'type of vow'that the Holy See will not ~dmit in new institutes, since it constitutes the special end of the institute, is already an obligation of the constitutions, and is accordingly pri-mary remot~ matter of the vow of obedience. The fifth vow, taken also in temporary profession, was that ofperseverance. A. second reply of the S. Congregation clarified this fifth vow: "The fifth vow of persevering in the same vows is to be understood in the following sense. The obligation of persevering temporarily or perpetually, ac-cording to the mind and practice of this Sacred Congregation, is in-cluded in the temporary or perpetual profession. Accordingly the words of the formula of profession on perseverance are not to be ¯ understood in th~ sense of another vow." The Holy See and authors have also defined the special vow of stability, taken in imitation of the Benedictine vow, as being con-tained in the obligation of perpetual profession,aa The vow of s~a-bility of Benedictine Sisters is defined: "By the vow of stability the Sisters attach themselves to the hbuse of their profession and ufiite themselves with the religious family there existing, and promise never to 'wrest their necks from under the yoke of the Rule.' " It is not impossible to find different and approved definitions of these special vows in theconstitutions of pon.tifical institutes, for example, that of stability. IX. TELEPHONE AND RADIO In a recent approval of the constitutions of a congregation of sis-ters, the H01y See inserted the.article: "The use of the telephone and alBattandier, n. 186¯ 32Normae'of 1901, n. 102¯ 33Bastien, n. 481. 2: Battandier, n. 187. 265 ,JOSEPH F. (3ALLEN ,Review [or Religious radio is to be regulated by the superior." In its reply to the quin-quennial report of the same type of congregation, the Holy See stated: "Listening to the radio in private does not appear becoming; therefore it would be better to forbid it." X. WORKS OF THE INSTITUTE § 1 Teaching Sisters and School~ 1. duniorates. This section on the works of the institute contains the most practical matter of this article. Unless otherwise noted, the articles quoted in this section have been inserted by the Holy See in constitutions approved during the past two or three years. The articles on the juniorate are: "After their profes,sion the Mother General shall assemble the junior professed in houses of formation, where, under the direction of a competent, l~Iistress, they shall attend Catholic schools, if. such exist. They shall be supplied with all m~ans necessary' for the pur-pose and shall apply themselves diligently to the attainment of diplo-mas that will be recognized also civilly." ¯ "During this time of formation it will be profitable to supple-ment the classes with lectures and instructions by learned Catholics, who shall emphasize the relation of teaching with Catholic faith and morals." The question of juniorates was discussed at the meeting o~ the superioresses general in Rome. The value and necessity of juniorates were clearly seen, but their immediate initiation, program, extension, and duration were left. to the individual institutes. The necessity of appointing a special Mistress of Junior Professed, distinct from the local superior, . was stated more categorically. It is to be noted that the article quoted above is far more absolute than the unofficial ,re-ports of the Roman meeting. I doubt that any experienced higher superior of congregatio,ns of brothers or sisters denies the necessity of juniorates for the proper spiritual formation and education of subjects. I personally believe that the necessity of juniorates has passed the point of discussion and opinion; it is now a matter of conviction and urgency. Congrega-tions of brothers and sisters should immediately institute a juniorate. This means that the junior professed will not be applied to the ex-ternal works of the institute until they. have completed their under-graduate studies. Extyerience proves that there is only one way of attaining this supremely important object: the superior general must 266 September, PRACTICE OF THE HOLY rise to his or her strongest moment and command it. Let no one swell the low notes of those who chant mournfully that it cannot be done: whaf has been done can be done. If the argument is proposed that the junior professed should be tested in the external works and life of the institute before perpetual profession, the answer is easy. The institute can study the expediency of increasing, with proper permission, the prescribed period of temporary vows to five or six years. The juniorate for those destined to be nurses will require study and investigation for the attainment of a suitable program. 2. Preparation for perpetual profession. This number and the pre-. ceding apply equally to brotbe~s and sisters destined for works other than teaching. At the Roman meeting of superioresses general the withdrawal of the junior professed from the ordinary life of the in-stitute for one or several months of renovation of spirit and of deeper and more mature spiritual formation before perpetual profession ap-pears to have been authoritatively favored. However, this can scarcely be held as necessary if the institute has an-adequate junior-ate. It will also be very close to the noviceship, since most institutes have only three years of temporary vows. While I do not deny the merit of this suggestion, it seems to me to be far more necessary for institutes of brothers and sisters to study the initiation of such a program several years after perpetual profession, when the religious has spent more years in the ordinary life and works of the institute and is in the age group of thirty to thirty-five. This is the critical age for religious. The vision and heart of spiritual youth have often suffered a slow death from worldliness, selfishness, the gradual e'xclu-sion of mortification, the abandonment of real prayer, and the de-structive, disillusioning, and even embittering example of others. It is. the age that needs spiritual revivification and rejuvenation. If this is not had, the soul can readily grow old with the body and crawl into eternity as enfeebled by mediocrity as the body is by age. A longer period is desirable, but it would be sufficient to devote one full summer to such a renovation. This plan does not exclude the advisability of the renovation before perpetual profession, but the necessity, value, intensity, and duration of such a renovation would depend on the length of the noviceship, the existence of a juniorate, the number of years spent in the active life, and the adop-tion of the later renovation here recommended. 3. Continuation of studies after the junforate. "After they have received their diplomas, it is the duty of the 267 JOSEPH F.'GAIzLEN Rebiew For Religious Sisters t6 advance their k~towledge by unremitting study anal reading of the books that are constantly being published." Th~ sense of this article admits no doubt, but its present observ-ance is more than doubtful; It is safe to assert that the daily average time granted to sisters for preparation for class and advancement is about an hour. If this is sufficient for preparation for class and ad-vancement, it seems equally safe to hold that only a genius may am-bition the life of a sister. ¯ The article is merely a dictate of common sense for instittites de-voted, to teaching. It will never be properly observed unless careful thought is given to such headings¯ as the following: learning is not incompatible with true piety: a solid and inspiring education in the juni0rate; the elimination of interminable vocal prayers in common: the realization tbat some spiritual duties may be made privately; the quick and painless death of the restlesshorarium that finds peace only in the clangor of. the bell; peaceful acquiescence in the fact that study in'one's room or cell is not forbidden by the natural'or canon law:~ sufficient sleep, holidays, and vacations; .a notable lessening of the time given to domestic work; the employment of more lay teachers and more secular help for domestic work; finally and especially; the elimination of the present totally unreasonable overwork. We can aptly add the admonition given by the Holy See in its reply to the quinquennial report of one institute. There are very few institutes of brothers and sisters that cannot profit by. this ~idmoniti6n: "If possible, something should be done to correct the situation whereby the' sisters, exhausted by excessive labor, are apparently exposed to many difficulties and dangers and consequently fail in carrying out, the religious life." An unofficial summary of the Roman meeting ~f superioresses general contains some very pertinent thoughts on this heading. Let us hope that the superiors subscribed .to these thoughts as actualities to be attained and not as 'the dreams of a waning summer. These thoughts are: "Maternai care must be taken of the health of the religious; the work of each must be orderly and moderate; each religious must have time for her exercises of piety." "The schedules must always be reasonable and adapted to the various regions and apostolic ministries today confided to religious." "In their individual houses, the Superiors General will provide for all the Religious the possibility and facility; 'of a Christian life 268 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF: THE HOLY SEE (with the Sacraments, the Word of God, Spiritual Direction, etc.) and of Religious life with the posiibility of carrying out the duties imposed on them by their consecration to God (day~ of Retreat, Spir-itual Exercises, and spiritual practices common to the individual In-stitute) ." "It must be remembered that the a~ostolate is also a science and an art and that the Holy See insists on the elevation of the literary. technical and professional culture of the Religious, on the absolute necessity of degrees required for the exercise of the various profes-sions: on the necessity of aspirin~ to a greater degree of proficiency, never thinking that one's culture is adequate f9r the present need." 4. Progress and annual meeting. "The Congregation is to adopt, the prhisewortby custom of an annual meeting of all the Sister teachers, under the presidency of the Mother General. for a discussion of methods of teaching and of the traditional pedagogy of the Congregation, in order that the schools of the Congregation may not only equal but surpass secular schools." 5. Subjects at~o to be studied. The following article will encourage those who are promoting courses of theology for brothers or sisters. Such a course should be partially completed in the juniorate. "They ar~ to study also dogmatic and moral theology, ecclesiasti-cal history, sociology, liturgy, Gregorian chant, and similar matters. For all of these studies the Sisters are to be" supplied with books for their individual and constant use." 6. Library. The community library, especially in small religious houses, can readily be neglected. If we had the pen and unction of Kempis, we would lament that the food of the modern monk is more abundant than his books. The library should be augmented con-stantly with books appert~aining to the subjects taught in the school and also with newly published spiritual and cultural books. The article of the Holy See On the library is: "Each house shall have a library containing Catholic books on the entire field of pedagogy." 7. Teaching of Christian doctrine. "The Sisters shall not forget that they must be approved by the local Ordinary for the teaching of Christian doctrine." "In explaining Christian doctrine, the Sisters .shall proceed gradually and, as far as possible, they shall aim to instill into the minds ,of their, pupils a thorough knowl~edge of the tt, u_ths of o~faith rather than to have them commit to memory a series of formulas." 269 JOSI~PH F. GALLEN Review For Religious The following articles were inserted' by the Holy See in the con-stitutions of a congregation especially dedicated to the teaching of Christian doctrin~ and approved finally by the Holy See in 1949. "Since the sacred sciences are especially helpful to an' understand-ing of Christian doctrine, the Sisters shall place great emphasis on the .study bf dogmatic, moral, and pastoral theology, eccl~siastical history, and similar subjects. A collection of books on Christian doctrine, especially ~f recent worthwhile publications, is to be ac-cessible to the Sisters and others who devote themselves to the teaching of Christian doctrine." ""It will be very advantageous for the Sisters, with the proper authorization', to publish and distribut~ printed works on Christian doctrine." 8. Some norms of teachin~l. , "The Sisters. shall take care that order and cleanliness are ob-served in the classroom." "They should stu.dy the character and disposition of mind of all their pupils and are to unite a certain gentleness of treatment with strictness, when/he latter is necessary." "The 'inordinate inclinations oi the children are to be corrected gradually, and they are to be aided in the acquisition of good habits by the stimulus of admdnition, opportune advice, and by bringing to light the law Of conscience, which,'as is well known, appears from the earliest years." "Offensive speech~ blows, and intemperate anger are to be avoided in punishments. A moral sense of responsibility for theii actions rather than servile fear is to be inculcated in the minds of the chil-dren." "The Sisters are to refrain absolutely from partiality and prefer-ence in their relations with the children. The deportment and coun-tenance of the.Sisters should manifest an evenness of disposition and kind.heSS united with something of reverence." "" "Experience proves that the fostering of the interior life, which is developed by good actions, faith in God, and self-sacrifice, appears even in young children as the right and safe path along which life is to be guided." "A love of modesty is to be developed in girls with regard to dress, deportment and their conduct with others." 270 " September, 1953 .PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE § 2 Sister Nurses arid Hospitals 9. Training and.continued pr6gress. "['he problem of overwork is particularly acute in the case of brothers and sisters applied to hos-pitals. In some religious hospitals a weekly holiday is apparently unknown. The continuation of this practice is unthinkable. Every brother and sister nurse should have at least one day a week that is completely free from hqspital duties, and it would contribute' much to 'their health, quiet of mind, and spirituality to spend as often as possiblea notable part of this weekly holiday awa.y from the hos-pital environment. Overwork will not facilitate the continued study and progress demanded by th~ following article that is inserted in constitutions by .the Holy See: "The Sister nurse must strive to increase her knowledge after she has secured a diploma valid also according to civil law." I0. Medical ethics. "A Sister is to refrain from administering medicines or assisting at Operations that are forbidden by the Church. In cases of doubt she is to consult the Superior." "Especially in extraordinary and important cases where there are at stake .the preservation of a human life, reverence for the human person, and care for the conscience of the patient, even if it is a case of extreme pain and gi.ves rise to such questions as euthanasia and others of similar nature,, the Sister shall be careful to give no help to an ac-tion that is contrary to Catholic principles." 11. Mod~stg¢. The Holy See has been inserting the following article in constitutions for several years past: "In certain cases where the care to be given is Of a particularly delicate nature, the Sisters shall dvail themselves, if possible, of the services of .the secular personnel or of the members of the sick per-son's family; for extraordinary cases the Superior should designate Sisters of proven piety and mature age who are williog to perform such works of chhrity. It is the duty of the General Chapter or Council to enact measures in this regard, to which the Sisters must con form." 12. Education as doctors. The following article, proposed to the Holy See in the genera] revision of the constitutions of two. congrega-tions, was approved by the S. C. of Religibus: "The Sisters assigned to the hospitals must be thoroughly pre-pared for the efficient discharge oftheir duties. There should be some Sisters educated as doctors and qualified for th6 various .departments 271 , C. A. HERBST Review for Religious ¯ of the hospital." Canon law does not forbid clerics or religious to study medicine or surgery. Canons 139, § 2, and 592 forl~id clerics and religious of both sexes to devote themselves avowedly, habitually, and for profit to the practice of medicine or surgery. Religious institutes devoted to nursing have by their approbation as such permission to practice the medicine and slight surgery demanded of nurses. Local Ordinaries in missionary countries may permit their missionaries, priests and re-ligious men or women, to practice medicine and surgery provided they are skilled in these arts, demand no payment, and observe rood-esty intreating the opposite sex. In other countries clerics, brothers, and sisters Who wish to i~ractice medicine or surgery must secure an indult from the Holy See. The article quoted above and approved by the Holy See implicitly grants to the two congregations a dispen-sation from th~ canonical prohibition of the practice of medicine and surgery for those qualified as doctors. Care is always to be taken to secure prbper civil authorization for the practice of these arts. [EDITORS' NOTE: Father Gallen's article will be concluded in November.] Discipline C. A. Herbst, S.J. It"I"HE very first step towards wisdom is the desire for discipline, .,| .and how should a man care for discipline without loving ~t, or love it without heeding its laws, or heed its laws with-out winning immortality, or .win immortality without drawing nearer to God" (Wis. 6:18, 19) ? Who could explain more clear!y or_show more beautifully than the Holy Spirit Himself does the place of discipline in the life of one who really wants to love God? "Order is heaven's first law" the proverb says. ¯ This conformity to law comes from discipline. Discipline in the passive sense is con-trol gained by enforcing obedience or order. There is order even in heaven, where God is supreme and the angels are ministering spirits. Where there is disorder chaos soon appears and it is impossible to at-tain the end of any organized society, which is the common good. The modern "autonomous man" is a law unto himself, a tyrant, an outlaw. Were the order established by discipline removed, "the bounded waters would lift higher than the shores," as Shakespeare says~ ?and make,a sop bf, all this.solid globe.';o ~ Then might, is right, "and the rude son should strike his father dead." Unleashed from 272 September, 1953 DISCIPLINE discipline, power obtained by our modern Hitlers and Stalins whets the appetite for more power. "And appetite, an universal wolf, must make perforce an universal prey, and last eat up himself." (Troilus and Cressida, I, iii.) Discipline corrects. This is its first function: a negative one, surely, but basic and important ever since the beginning when man short-circuited his powers through original sin and "to err is human" became a proverb. It is only too clear that in younger religious fre-quent correction is necessary. It helps to make away with the "old man," and who can put on the "new man" before putting off the old? The ways of the world (and they are gaining mightily with each decade) are not God's ways. In men of good will. which we presume aspirants to the religious life to be, correction should lead to prompt reform, or at least to a prompt attempt at reform. In those. who have already spent some time in religion it should lead not only to prompt but to thorougl~ and lasting reform. ReForm. That is a distasteful word to the worldling but opens up a vast field white for the harvest for the ease-loving religious. And we need not look across the table and plan reform for him. As Father said: "If ever you want to start a reform, start on yourself." "Charity begins at home" is true even in this negative aspect. Reform is the correlative and result of correction, and d'iscipline's first work is to correct. Discipline molds. It forms a religious after thi~ likeness of Christ. It shapes him. A character, a soul, is like clay in the hands of the p.otter. As defects are removed by correction the new man takes form under the interior influence of grace and the external influence of dis-cipline. It is exhilarating to see the young religious grow. That an earnest and fervent religious does grow even those who live with him can see. Those, however, who had known him i'n the world and after a few years see him as a religious are the ones who are really amazed at the change. The religious life is a school of perfection. One ex-pects a school to teach and mold and form and change and enlighten. ¯ .Discipline educates a soul, "leads out" its powers, the mind and the will, and induces them to make the most of the wonderful gifts God has given to each one of His children. Discipline strengthens. It gives one moral and spiritual power to act, live, and carry on enduringly and vigorously. This is conspicu-ous in the athletic world. Those who achieve fame in the field of sports do so because they have acquired physical strength, speed, and" accuracy of sense and muscle through long and severe disciplinary 273 C. A. HEI~BST Review for Religious train!ng. This extended and careful practice, their abstinence from food and luxuries and entertainment, is more rigorous than most re-ligious have to submit to. ."And they for a corruptibl( crown, but we for an incorruptible one." ~ Through discipline we store up resources of moral and spiritual strength whict~ we may draw upon in times of trial and temptation. A well-trained sc~ldier will come through many a difficult'and dang(r- ~ ous battle where an undisciplined one will succumb, as we found out in World War II. Through'discipline one acquires a great power of resistance. Discipline causes a soul to become effective and efficient in the direction~ of spiritual achievement, and to be foiceful in its life and work. A strong soul is ardent and zealous, too, and enthusiastic for, the things of God. Neither is a well-disciplined soul easily injured, subdued, or taken in. He is like a fortress, strong and firm. It is vigorous, healthy~ and tough, like an oak. Discipline makes a soul sturdy and unyielding. In the religious life we consider religious discipline in connection v~ith obedience. From an analysis of the word itself, discipline means teaching, training. "Considered in the authority which governs, re-ligious discipline is the sum total' of the rules with their ~anction. By the rules superiors teach the way which is to be followed; by pen- "ances in ~ase of infraction they bring back those who have strayed and repair the scandal given. Considered in inferiors, discipline is also c~lled regular observance, and is the ,faithful observance of the rules, in which observance all the members of the community unite in holy harmony. So important is religious discipline that it must be con-sidered as morally necessary for the conservation of the order as a whole, for that of.the religious life in a community, and for that of the spiritual life in each individual. According to what has been said, it is easy to see that superiors are under grave obligation to maintain religious discipline in the community; and in this regard, "connivance. on their part can easily become a consideiable sin" (Cotel, Catechism of the Vows, 137- 140.), In this connection we might note Canon 593: "Each and every religious, superiors as well as. subjects, must not only keep faithfully and completely'the vows they have taken, but also lead a life in conformity with the rules and constitutions of their own in-stitute and thus strive ~fter the perfection of their state." The rule of each religi0us.institute urges regular observance on ¯ all Each institute must first and foremost, of course, observe the law 274 ' September, 1953 D~SCIPLINE of the Church for religious. In Canons 594-612 we have mentioned especially the careful observance by all of th~ common llfe with re-gard to food, dress, and furniture; the careful performance of gpir-itual exercises; the wearing of the religious habit;

Issue 8.2 of the Review for Religious, 1949. ; A,M, D.G;. ~ Review for Religious MAR~H 15, 1949 Beginning Men÷al Prayer . Franc;s P. LeBuffe Nearness of God . : Pafr~ck F. Murray Confidence in God . Edward J. Carney Penitential Insfrumen÷s . Winfrld Herbsf The Hundredfold . Edward Sfanfon Prudence . Albed" Munfsch Adapfafion " J. Cre~sen Book Reviews Communications Questions Answered VOLUME VIII NUMBER 2 .,~ RI::VIi::W FOR RI::LI IOUS VOLUME VIII MARCH, 1949 NUMBER CONTENTS BEGINNING BEGINNERS IN MENTAL PRAYER-- Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J . 57 COMMUNICATIONS . 61 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 62 THE NEARNESS OF GOD--Patrick F. Murray, S.J . 63 CONFIDENCE IN GOD--Edward d. Carney., O.S.F.S . 70 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 72 RE: PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS --- Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. 73 CANONICAL LEGISLATION CONCERNING RELIGIOUS . 79 ~FHE HUNDREDFOLD---Edward Stanton, S.J . 80 PRUDENCE--A NECESSARY VIRTUE--Albert Muntsch, S.J. 82 ADAPTATION~J.Creusen, S.J . 86 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Lord's Sermon on the Mount;' You Can Change the World . . 96 BOOK NOTICES . 99 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 101 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 8. Shortening Canonical Year of Novitiate . 105 9. Postulant Cannot Take Vows on Deathbed . 106 10. Novice under Tw.enty-one Makes Will . , . 107 11. Supplyirig Absence from Meditation . 107 12. Typewritten Annals . 108 13. Use of Cuttings from Altar Breads . 108 14. Published Lists of Apostolic Indulgences . 108 15. Indulgences: for Rosary before Blessed Sacrament; for Renewal of Vows after Holy Communion . 108 16". Negro Candidates for Sisterhoods . 109 17. Trappistine Convent in the United States . 110 REPRINT SERIES . 112 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1949. Vol. VIII, No. 2. Published bi-, monthly: January, March, May, July, September and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's Co!lege, St. Mary's, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Of~ce, 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: Alfred F. Schneider, S.J. Copyright, 1949, by Adam C. Ellis.Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be gi~;en this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writln~j to us. please consult notice on inside" back cover. Beginning Beginners in/V en!:al Prayer Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J. MANY of our Sisters, Brothers, and priests know little about" mental prayer, and the majority of them find it difficult. These are facts, and we would do well to face them. It has long been a settled conviction with me that the major cause of thi~ situation is that they have been started off wrongly. This conviction is based on personal observation and on the experience of others, and not on armchair thinking, though I think we might arrive at the same conclusion by that method also. During my thirty-three years of priesthood I have had more or less continual opportunities to know the Sisters and their ways of spiritual living, and have enjoyed the confidencesof many in low and high positions. Moreover for sixteen years it has been my privilege to give a six-hour course .of lectures on mental prayer in the Summer School of Catholic Action. This is a completely elementary course, presup-posing no knowledge of mental prayer and outlining only the bare essentials. Yet time and again trained religious and deeplyspiritually-minded priests have commented on the help they. have gained from it. I always remember the remark of a solidly trained religious, a mem-ber of one of our finest Sisterhoods: "Father, this is the first time I ever knew what it was all about." What a tragedy back of that remark ! I think the major mistakes are that we begin beginners with too long a period of mental prayer, and, secondly, we do not give them adequate or proper instruction about mental prayer before they begin. Let me first discuss the" amount of mental prayer expected of beginners in the postulancy, novitiate, or seminary. Frequently they are asked to begin with a half-hour or even a full hour. It would seem that either is far too long. Why? Because they know little about the principles of religious or seminary life, and not much more than generalities about the life of Our Lord. Being thus ignorant, how can they develop these thoughts and make reasonable application to themselves? Even on the "affective" side, their emo-tions and acts of the will have not solid enough ground on which to be based. i am always reminded of a certain Brother-postulant who had 57 FRANCIsP. LEBUFFE Reoieta for Religious been one of the last pony-express riders of the Rockies. "Points" on th~ Hidden Life had been given the night before by a priest, and the next morning Brother John put in his full hour of meditation. Later on in the day, however, he buttonholed a Brother novice: "Say, let me ask you a question. Father told us last night to ask ourselves three questions in meditation. I remembered the questions and so I asked myself. 'Who done it?' I knew the answer: 'The Lord.' 'What did He do?' I knew that answer too: 'He did carpenter, work.' 'How did He do it?' Well, anybody would know that being the Lord He done it superfine. That took me two minutes. Say what did you guys do with the other 58 minutes?" In mental prayer, we "chew the cud"--I am talking now of dis-cursive prayer, where most beginners begin--and the "cud" to be chewed is our knowledge of things spiritual. Let's face facts and realize that beginners have little or no "cud" to chew--and it is pre-cisely for that reason they are beginners. They are quite in the same position for spiritual meditation as most of us are for a meditation on atom fission. Like Brother John if I w~re to meditate on the atomic bomb, I'd ask myself "What does it mean?" Answer: "Splitting the atom." Period. Because of this, it would seem wise to start" beginners off with the easiest form of mental prayer: meditative reading. Father Lind-worsky, S.J., in his Ps~jcbolog~ of Asceticism, characterizes it as a much-neglected way of .meditating. The advantage of beginning with this simplest form is that it provides the beginner with continuous food for thought; or, to change the metaphor, it provides a continuing anchor for his thinking. From meditative reading the beginner could pass on to that age-. old form of meditation wherein we take each word or phrase of a prayer and try to dig out and spread out the thought that lies hidden therein. Thus we can take the Our Father, meditating on the word "father" and all that it implies, and then checking our findings with all these qualities we find in God. Next, the word "our" with' all "its implications of universal brotherhood. All the while, of course, we warm our hearts and intersperse our thinking with the affective prayer of will and emotions. Of course it is highly advisable to have beginners meditate as soon as possible on the life of Our Lord, for that is truly "the customary food of a devout soul." But here again we must fit the meditation to the one meditating. Most Catholics who have had a Catholic 58 March, 1949 BEGINNING IN MENTAL PRAYER education, can meditate profitably for at least a few minutes on Bethlehem, the Shepherds, the Magi, the Agony in the Garden, the Crucifixion, and so forth. But once they get away from the big, well-known my'steries, their minds are either a completely blank page ¯ or they indulge in specfilations which may be entirely awry or at variance with the true doctrine enshrouded in the mystery. We don't ask high school students to write college essays, and we don't ask college students to write doctorate dissertations. Why then ask of beginners in the spiritual life what can reasonably be expected only of maturer religious? We are not, of course, discounting the workings of grace whereby God can and does freely grant a real gift of prayer to one yet unschooledin asceticism. Nor are we demanding a deal of learned knowledge for meditatiton. Our contention is simply this, that barring an unusual grace from God it is bard to amplify a thought if one hasn't got a thought. The lack of proper instruction preparatory to all attempt at meditation is, as I see it, the second'cause of the deplorable mental-prayer condition among religious and priests. If we begin with the simpler forms of mental prayer, no lengthy instruction is needed. The best way to instruct is to make the medi- ¯ ration out loud with the beginners. Many rules are quite unneces-sary. The instructor meditates aloud with them, always using the personal pronoun "I" and meditating as though he were a postulant, novice, or seminarian himself. This gives "audience identifica-tion" and soon his voice becomes their own audible thinking. ~/Thus Ican beginwithten minutes meditativereading. I read sentence, think it over aloud. Read another sentence and think it over aloud, frequently chatting it out with Our Lord in my own simple way and telling Him exactly how I feel about it. Utter simplicity should be stressed. Time and again I have bad students in the mental prayer classes tell of their suprise and comfortwhen they realized for the first time that they could talk with God exactly as they felt, no matter what their mood, and exactly as they would with mother, father, or any human friend. It makes one wonder whether we have not overformalized our praying and constructed too compli-cated. a machinery for our approach to God. Prayer is truly "rever-ent intimacy with God." I am afraid we have been stressing the "reverent" rather than the "intimacy." That may have been well enough in Old Testament times amid the thunders and lightnings of 59 FRANCIS P. LEBUFFE Revieu., for Rel[qious Sinai, but it does not quite fit in with the called-for approach to the Babe of Bethlehem or the Man of Sorrows. Again, as to the amount of time, it would seem to be wiser to begin with not more than ten minutes a day for at least the first two weeks or longer. Thereafter increase to fifteen minutes a day for another two weeks (or longer). Remember mental prayer is like olives: one must develop a taste and relish for it. In the courses on mental prayer I have always restricted the time of each little medita-tion to three or four minutes. Thus young people are not bored and they find out practically that something worth while can be done in even a few minutes. Only recently I talked on mental prayer to the sodalists of the School of Business Administration of Fordham Uni-versity. I bad time to make only three three-minute meditations with them. The sodallsts were motionless: one could have heard a pin drop. At the end the prefect, a young man, in closing the meeting said: "I never knew prayer could be so warm and natural." Years ago in Chicago at.a S.S,C.A. a U.S. sailor said to me: "Father, this mental prayer is wonderful. It is as refreshing as a glass of cold water from a spring!" The sad result of a bad start in meditat, ing either from an over-dose or lack of proper preliminary instruction is a complete floun-dering in a vacuum of thoughtlessness. And the sadder result is that having made a bad start afloundering, the religious or priest con-tinues for a long time to flounder in a vacuity. It might be well to add two further remarks. The way, of course,, to remedy the beginner's lack of spiritual knowledge is to give him heavy doses of spiritual reading, using only time-tested masters in the spiritual life and lives of Christ which are thoroughly authentic, such as for example, Maas, Fouard, Mescbler,-Le Camus. Fluffy-ruffle spiritual books should find no room on the library shelves of novitiates and seminaries. Spiritually well-read and hence well-fed religious and seminarians will soon have an ample "cud" whereon to chew. Another thing is.to remember that we Americans find thinking difficult. Give us something to do and we are happy. Ask us to remain qui~t and think--well, we soon get restless or go to sleep. (That native trait may be a far deeper cause of our poverty in mental prayer, than the more evident ones I have mentioned.) When thinking of some of our meditations and meditators, I am reminded of the story told by Father William Stanton, S.J. While giving a 6O March, 1949 COMMUNICATIONS mission in a village, he went down to the country store and started chatting with the "regulars" sitting akound the store stove. "What do you men do all day? . Well, Parson, sometimes we sets and thinks, and sometimes we only sets." Wouldn't that label truly many of our meditations? Can't we remedy it? Communica!:ions Reverend Fathers : It occurred to me as I read in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the discus-sions about worldliness in religious communities that a convent is the best place on earth in which to make a study of unworldliness. From the moment the rising bell rings at the unworldly hour of five in all kinds of weather until taps at ten at night the Sisters have been "on. call." Look at the day's agenda: morning meditation, Holy Mass, breakfast in silence, teaching or nursing duties until lunch time and again until afternoon prayer and spiritual reading, supper in silence, a short recreation period in a common room, study, night prayer-- everything on schedule for nine months of the year. Into the summer vacation are crowded an eight-day retreat, six weeks of summer school either as teachers or students, or teaching a vacation school in a rural district preparing children for first Com-munion and confirmation. This is the routine followed by Sisters who live in colleges, academies, hospitals, parochial school residences, orphan homes. Wherever the Sister's assignment is, her day is a long one and entirely out of harmony with the 44-hour week of women in the world. Sisters haven't time to be worldly. They surely are not worldly in their attire. Their uniforms were not designed for either b~auty or comfort. They are not usually known by their worldly names. The names they are known by are often not their choice, and many times they are not euphonious. They do riot attend worldly amusements. They probably see during the course of the year five or six carefully selected movies in their college or academy hall. Their convent parties are strictly exclusive and unworldly. Now all this does not go to prove that Sisters are ready-made saints. They are human; and it is amazing how, living the common life, each one retains her own individuality through all the years allotted to her. It is my firm conviction that the number of worldly Sisters in any community is a small minority. The rank and file of all Sisters are carrying the sweet yoke of Christ bravely and sweetly.~A SISTER (Golden Jubilarian) 61 Your lnr orrnaUon Reprint Series The last page (112) of the present number carries a definite an-nouncement of the reprint series that was suggested tentatively in No-vember, 1948. We delayed in making this announcement ii~ the hope. that we might find a distributor for the booklets, as we are not equipped for that kind of work. Up to this time, however, we have been unsuccessful in our quest for a satisfactory distributing plan; hence we will do the best we can. Because of our lack of facilities, xve must insist that those who order booklets carefully observe the direc-tions outlined on page 11 Please note the differences between the reprints now available and those listed as tentative in November. Number 2 on that list was made up of articles on the novitiate. Requests for those articles were not sufficient to warrant our reprinting them; in their place we are reprinting the articles on Gifts to Religious by Father Ellis. Number 3 on the tentative llst was to consist of four articles by Father Kelly (two on emotional maturity, and two on the particular friendship). As two of these articles are comparatively short, we have decided to add a fifth article (on Vocational Counseling). This first edition of the reprints is merely an experiment. We are printing only a limited number; and we do not intend to print more unless it becomes quite evident that the project is really worth while. If you wish copies, it would be well to send your order immediately. Summer Sessions . The Sisters of St. Francis of Assisi will conduct a six weeks' sum-mer session, under the auspices of the Cardinal Stritch College, Mil-waukee, for Sisters who are interested in. the care and education of mentally handicapped children. Enrollment limited. Apply to: The Psychological Instiiute, St. Coletta School for Exceptional Chil-dren, Jefferson, Wisconsin. Immaculate Heart College, Los Angeles, California, offers the following special summer features: Reading Clinic for Elementary Teachers; Workshop in High School Administration; Series of Courses on St. Thomas Aquinas; Audio Visual Education; Cerema-ics; The Great Books Program; All-day Conference for Teachers of [Continued on 13. II1] 62 The Nearness of God Patrick F. Murray, S.3. iN OUR DAILY religious life, with its care and duties as well as its monotony, it is so easy to lose sight of the grand purpose of our consecrated lives. We know that deep down within our souls there is a quiet and profound love for Our Lord that has ever been, and still is, the motivating power that keeps us going from day to day. "I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me," as St Paul has expressed it; or again, "The charity of Christ drives us on." But amid the din and confusion a'nd cares that every day brings with it, it is quite easy to become entangled with so many visible duties that they gradually tend to obscure the silent flame of love within our hearts. They would extinguish it altogether if we did .not keep it alive with unrelenting effort in prayer. Constant prayer is the only fuel that can make it burn brightly so that it in turn will continue to motivate our actions in God's service. Great Appeal of Sensible Things The great appeal of things visible is something that everyone who would lead a spiritual life must struggle against constantly. We know that we love Our I, ord. We are eager to work to prove our love, because love proves itself in deeds, But we are so very much creatures of sense. It is so easily possible tolose our clear vision and to become so interested in the work we are doing to prove our love, that soon we come to find ourselves working because we have come to love the task given us rather than because we love our Divine Master. Before we know it, we are seeking praise and honor for our work instead of seeking tl~e praise and the honor of His Divine Majesty, as we started out to do. Our motivation has changed and our super-natural vision has dimmed by constant contact with the visible things around us. With God's gtrace and with constant effort we have to recall painfully that we are not working for a corruptible crown nor for a visible reward; but we are striving for an incorruptible crown from the loving hands of a still invisible Master. Highlg Recommended Practice lOne of the most highly recommended ways of keeping ourselves 63 PATRICK F. MURRAY Re~;iew for Religious on the path of perfection and of keeping our intention pure in God's service is to cultivate the habit of consciously living and working in His divine presence. He is present anyway, whether we think of Him or not; but it will help so very much if we can come to realize His nearness, for "in Him we live, and move, and have our being" (Acts 17:28). There is no point of our spiritual life more important; there is no easier means of personal sanctification : no means that can be more efficacious; no supernatural truth more fruitful in its results than an abiding and vitalizing sense of His divine nearness. Reward of Angels and Practice of Saints The angels in heaven are very fortunate. They stood up under .trial when the rebel angels fell. Now, while Lucifer and his followers burn for all eternity, the faithful angels possess what we are trying attain--the happiness of being with God forever. The saints are there too; and because they stood up under this trial which we call life, they share the bliss of the angels. The happiness of both the angels and saints in heaven consists in actuallyseeing and enjoying the infinite beauty of God in all the splendor of His divine majesty. Our Lord speaking of the angels said, "Their angels see the face of my Father in heaven" (Matt. 18:10). Among the saints of the Old Testament, a common manner of speaking was ever: "A~ the Lord liveth, in whose presence I stand" (III Kings 17:1). This practice was habitual with them as well as with the saints of the New Law. As David put it: "I kept the Lord ever before my eyes, because He is ever at my right hand, that I may not slip" (Ps. 15:8). Our Reward Also God created us so that someday we might come to stand eternally before Him in heaven and enjoy the sight of Him for all eternity. In this life He would have us attain to some kind of resemblance of that eternal happiness. This we can do by consciously walking in His presence, even though as in the twilight rather than in the full bright-ness of the eternal day. "Now I see as in a glass, in a dark manner; then we shall see Him face to face" (I Cot. 13:12). The. clear vision is the reward, the glory, the happiness that we hope for now. Walking in a spirit of faith in His presence, even though as "in a glass in a dark manner," is one of our best guarantees that we shall eventually come to see Him "face to face." Where Is God? The first wrong idea that we must rid ourselves of is that God is 64 March, 19 4 9 THE NEARNESS OF GOD somewhere away up in the heavens beyond the farthest star; or tha~ He is in some unattainable place that we cannot begin to approach in this life; that He is inaccessible. Of all the beings in existence, God is the easiest to contact. He is right here where you are this very moment, and at the same time He is in every conceivable place in the whole vast range of creation. He fills the whole world. "Do I not fill heaven and earth" (Jer. 23:24) ? He is whole in the world, and whole in every part of the world, no matter how large or how small. He is outside us, within us, all about us. We are living in God; not as part of Him (that would beto fall into the error of pantheism), .but as St. Paul tells us: "He is not far from each of us, since in Him we live, and move, and have our being" (Acts 17:27-28). The classic expression of this magnificent truth is David's: "Whither shall I go from Thy spirit; or whithe? shall I flee from Thy face? If I ascend into heaven Thou art there; if I descend into hell Thou art present. If I take wings early in the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, Even there shall thy hand guide me, and thy right hand sustain me. Perhaps darkness shall cover me . But darkness shall not be dark to Thee, and night shall be as light as day." (Ps. 138:7-12.) God is more intimately present to us than we are to ourselves. He is the source of all life; the basic strength of all power; the source of all being and all existence. If it were not" for His omnipotence sus-taining us and every other creature, we would all fall back into the nothingness from which we were made. We are sustained by God, surrounded by God, encompassed by God. Some Comparisons The whole world is full of His presence. St. Augustine tries to give us some idea of what'this means by the illustration of a sponge in the midst of the ocean. It is surrounded by water; soaked with ¯ water, inside and out. But this comparison falls short of the manner in which God is present to us, because the sponge may sink to the bot-tom or be washed ashore; but we can never, in any way, get out of the presence of God. He is immense and infinite as well as omni-present. He is a pure spirit and penetrates us through and through-- something like light filling every particle of a crystal ball; or like an iron bar that has been thrust into the fire and heated to such a degree that it is almost impossible to differentiate the fire from the heated bar. It is white hot and looks more like a bar of fire than a bar of 65 PATRICK F. MURRAY Review [or Religious iron. But God is still more present within us, and to every one of His creatures. Sucb comparisons merely serve to give us some faint idea of the rehlity. God Is Present to Our Eoer~l Thought It is very difficult for the limited human mind to grasp such a concept. We cannot even begin to imagine the nature of such a Being who can be present at all times to every one of His creatures no matter how far apart they may be. Cardinal Wiseman brings this truth out very strikingly in his book Fabiola. In a beautiful passage Syra, the Christian slave, tries to explain the presence of God to bet young mis-tress, Fabiola. "Simple as light is His nature," she says, "one and the same everywhere, indivisible, ubiquitous, unlimited. He existed long before there was any beginning. He wil, l, exist after all ending has ceased. Power, wisdom, goodness, 16ve,--justice, too, and unerring judgment,--belong to His nature and are as unlimited and unrestrained as it. He alone can create; he alone preserve; He alone destroy." But then Syra goes on to the point that is more intimately con-cerned with our consideral~ion. She tells bet young mistress that to watch and note the l~hougbts and actions of every one of His creatures requires no effort or causes no trouble for this Infinite, Being, far less than the trouble it takes for the sun to light up with its ranis whatever it shines on. God is more intimately present to every one of His crea-tures and to the entire universe than light is to the rays of the sun. After pondering these thoughts, no wonder that Fabiola cries out: "What an awful thought t, hat one has never been, alone, has never had a wish to oneself, has never had a single thought in secret, has never hidden the most foolish fancy of a proud and childish brain from the observation of One who knows no imperfection. Terrible thought,.,that one is living ever under the steady gaze of an all-seeing Eye, of~hich the sun is but a shadow, for the sun never enters the soul!" (Ch. 16.) Source of Strength God, therefore, is everywhere; and yet He is so near. No matter what we think, He knows it. No matter what we say, He hears it. No matter what we do, He sees it. This is a thought that can be as consoling for those who sincerely try to serve Him as it can be terrible forthe most secret sinner. A deep realization of God's presence is a source of strength for souls who are naturally timid. Encircled by 66 March, 1949 THE NEARNESS OF GOD His loving presence they are able to present to the world that won-derful combination of timidity and moral courage which can belong to the Christian heart alone. Frequently, such is the explanation of unexpected strength of character in men and women who are not by nature strong and independent; yet when the occasion arises they are able to stand up under very difficult circumstances. They are quietly strong and self-possessed in their deep realization that of themselves they are nothing, 'but God is their'strength and their power. Special Graces of Saints Some of the great saints received special graces which enabled them to imagine Our Lord ever at their side under one form or another, such as Jesus Crucified, or in the power and glory of His resurrection. It requires special graces to carry on with such efforts of the imagination. But for ordinary souls, such efforts of the imagina-tion are not at all necessary. Spirit of Faith Is Necessary All that is really necessary is to accept in a spirit of simple faith that God is present and interested in absolutely everything we do, for such is the truth. Christ Our Lord, as Man, is present in heaven and in the Blessed Sacrament. But as Man, He is not present everywhere. ¯ As Man, He has a definite form and body, and we can imagine how He must have looked when He was on earth. He is also God as well as Man. But God, as God, cannot be imagined. He is a pure Spirit. "No one has ever seen God at any time. The only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He has revealed Him." (John 1:18.) "The spirit of the Lord has filled the round of the earth" (Wis. 1:7). There is no need to imagine what is not. All that is necessary is simply to believe what is. Simple faith in God's presence is all that is needed ! How in Actual Practice But how is this to work out in actual practice? In his Epistle to the Hebrews, St. Paul says of Moses: "God being invisible, he con-sidered Him as present as if he saw Him" (Heb. 11:27). It is some-thing like being in a very dark room with another person present. We cannot see him, but we know that he is there. He makes his presence known by his actionsfrom time to time. We can know God by faith and by His works. "We see now in a dark manner"; so we may con-sider in a spirit of simple faith that God is present. It is enough to 67 PATRICK F:. MURRAY know that He is here as our most loving Father and Friend, to rejoice in His presence no matter where we may be, no matter what we may be doing at the moment. We cannot see how He is present because we are still in the darkness of this life. We must live with faith in His presence and with hope that on the morrow of eternity He will discover Himself to us in all the magnificence of His divine majesty; and we shall see Him as He is. "When He shall appear, then we shall be like to Him: because we shall see Him as He is" (I John 3:2). Acts of Desire and Looe Most Necessary It is not enough to know that God is ever present to us. We must let such knowledge flow over into acts of the will, into personal acts of desire and love for Him. When we adore Our Lord present in the Blessed Sacrament we do not spend a lot of time trying to figure out how He is present. It is the same with this exercise of taking advan-tage of God's nearness to us. We take it on faith that He is present and walk lovingly in His company. So we "go about our daily duties with a greater zest and cheerfulness, knowing that we are performing every action of the day in His divine presence; knowing, too, that He realizes we are doing our every act, no matter how big or how little, out of love for Him alone. Our reflection from time to time on His presence is a greater incentive to do all things as perfectly as pos-sible with the help of His grace. "Whether you eat or drink, or what-ever else you do, do it all for the glory of God" (I Cot. 10:31). Pray Atu)a~ls Once Our Lord said: "We must always pray, and never give up" (Luke 18: I). There would seem to be no better manner of carrying out this wish of Our Lord than ever walking in His presence, doing all things out of love for Him alone. As St. Paul expresses it: "You are no longer strangers and for-eigners, but fellow citizens of the saints, and domestics of the house of God" (Eph. 2: 19). By living in such a spirit all our dealings and conversation can become a thing not of this earth but of heaven. And we carry out St. Paul's ~urther advice: "Fixing our gaze not on the things that are seen, but on the things that are not seen; for the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are unseen are eternal" (II Cor. 4:18). Strength in Temptation Further, we must remember that when we act. in this way, we must not consider God Our Father at some great distance from us, 68 March, 1949 THE NEARNESS OF GOD watching us. He is actually present and interested in everything we do. This makes the practice easy and sweet, and helps us to be on the alert to find new ways to please Him. It is also a great h~lp in temp-tation to realize that He sees us and knows our inmost thoughts and the depths of our souls, reading there the amount of true sincerity we have in trying to overcome the temptations that bother us. He knows our strength and our weakness, and is ever present to help us. It is always a good thing to recall that every temptation takes place in the very presence of God : that every sin takes place right in' His very pres-ence. And when we overcome a temptation and prove our love, we do that, too, right in His very presence; and we are sure of a reward for every battle fought and won for His love. In temptation, call to mind such texts as: "Come to my help, O God; O Lord, make haste to defend me" (Ps. 69:2). Or again, such aspirations as: "O God, my Strength, strengthen me! . Never per-mit me, dear God, to offend Thee." "0 God, may I die rather than offend Thee !" Kinds of Pra~jers to God Present The best and most effectual aspirations, whether in time of temp-tion or in time of loving conversation with God, are those which our own hearts conceive, moved by His grace. In our ordinary prayers or conversations with God so near to us, we should speak about even the most trivial things and the most intimate things as'though with a friend. It is not at all necessary to have a great number of prayers; nor is strain of any kind necessary. One short prayer, provided it expresses the thoughts of our souls, can be r~peated over and over again, and is sufficient. Or again, a Gospel text from the morning meditation repeated over and over again is very pleasing to God, because He knows that you mean it as words of simple and sincere love as you move about on the rounds of your daily life and work in His loving presence. "For what have I in heaven? And besides Thee, what do I desire on earth? For Thee my flesh and my heart have fainted away. Thou art the God of my heart, the God who is my portion forever." (Ps. 72:25-26.) 69 Confidence in God Edward J. Carney, O.S.F.S. WHENEVER his security is threatened, man experiences fear, and he attempts to escape, if possible, the impending evil. Properly controlled this emotion plays an important and use-ful part in developing the 'human personality. For example, one who did not fear the rapidly moving vehicles at a busy traffic intersection would regret his rashness. It is natural, then, for a man to experience fear under certain circumstances. Even Our Lord feared the death decreed for him: "And he took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee; and he began to be distressed and discouraged. Theri he said to them, 'My soul is sorrowful unto death.' " (Matt. 26:37- 38.) Fear, however, very frequently exceeds its proper limits. An excellent example of this is the worry and anxiety that trouble many" areligious. In a life dedicated to God through renunciation of the world there must be difficulties. Sometimes these are of great con-sequence; more often than not they are the minor crosses ot~ daily life experienced even by lay people. An improper viewpoint in meeting them, consisting in too little confidence in God, destroys the religious' perspective. Hi~ fear becomes pronounced, manifests itself in worry and anxiety, and makes him doubtful of success in his chosen w'ay of life. Some examples from Holy Scripture will help illustrate these points. Lack of faith in God begets fear. When the storm at sea threat-ened to overwhelm their boat, the disciples awakened Jesus, saying: " 'Lord, save us! we are perishing!' And he saith to them, 'Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?' " (Matt. 8:i5-26.) This fear coming from mistrust of God's providence makes a man doubtful of his ability to face a situation. "And Peter answered and said to him, 'Lord, if it be thou, bid me come to thee upon the waters.' And he said, 'Come.' And Peter went down from the boat and walked upon the waters and came unto Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was struck with fear; and beginning to sink, he cried out, saying, 'Lord, save me.' And straightway Jesus stretched forth his hand and took hold of him, and he saith to him, 'O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?'" (Matt. 14:28-31.) 70 CONFIDENCE IN GOD An analysis of excessive fears and anxieties will undoubtedly dis-close that insufficient trust in God is a partial cause. The religious fears the demar~ds of obedience, a new charge, a new assignment. "Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?" Beset by temptations against the vow of chastity the religious questions his strength. "Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?" The mental serenity of the religious is disturbed by daily problems. "Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?" If mistrust of God's providence produces fear and worry, trust in God is accompanied by courage and peace. When the apostles cried out in fear as they saw Christ walking on the sea, 3esus immediately spoke to them, saying: "Be of good heart; it is I, fear not" (Matt. 14:27), After the Resurrection the apostles were gathered together in the upper room. Suddenly 3esus stood among them and said: "Peace be to you! It is I. Be not afraid." (Luke 24:36.) The quality of this faith or trust inGod is also indicated by Christ: "And 3esus answering saith to them, 'Have faith in God. Amen I say to you, whoever saith to this mountain, "Be thou lifted up and cast into the sea," and doubteth not in his heart, but believeth that what he saith is to come to pass, it shall be done for him. Wherefore I say to you, whatsoever things ye ask for in prayer, believe that ye have received them, and they shall come unto .you.' " (Mark 11:22-24.) A religious who allows fear and doubt to color his life may unconsciously make the mistake of believing his problems either too great or too small for God's consideration. If he believes they are too great, he approaches God halfheartedly. Reflection on some passages from the New Testament will convince such a person that the miracles of Christ were performed for those who believed in him. Hence even the greatest difficulties are not insurmountable when a person turns to God in loving faith and confidence. Faith in Christ obtained the cure of the paralytic: "And 3esus, seeing their faith, said to the paralytic, 'Be of good heart, my child; thy sins are forgiven' " (Matt. 9:2). It was a means of res'toring sight to the blind: "And 3esus saith to them, 'Believe ye that I can do this?' They say to him, 'Yea, Lord.' Then he touched their eyes, saying, 'Be it done to you according to your faith.' " (Matt. 9:28-29.) It was required of a father before his child was brought back to life: "But ~lesus, overhearing what was said, saith to the president, 'Fear not, only believe!' . . . And taking the child by the hand he saith to her. 'Maiden, I say to thee, arise!' And straightway the maiden rose and walked." (Mark 5:36-42.) It 71 EDWARDJ. CARNEY won divine pardon for a hardened sinner: "And he said, 'Jesus, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom.' And he said to him, 'Amen I si~y to thee, this day thou shalt be with me in para-dise.' " (Luke 23:42-43.) Not only .the great events of life but even the smallest detail falls under God's providence. "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them falleth to the ground without your Father. But as for you, the very hairs of your hexd are all numbered. Wherefore fear ye not; ye are of greater worth than many sparrows." (Matt. 10:29-31.) "And he said unto his disciples, 'Therefore I say to you, be not anxious about your life, what ye are to eat; nor for your body, how ye are to be clothed. For the life is more than the food, and the body more than the clothing. Consider the ravens, how th~y sow not nor reap, neither have they store-room or barn, and God feedeth them. Of how much greater worth are ye than the birds~ If then the grass in the field, which today liveth and tomorrow is to be cast into the oven; God doth so array, how much more you, of little faith! Seek ye not therefore what you are to eat and what you are to drink . . . your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of these things. But seek ye his kingdom, and these things shall be added unto you.'" (Luke 12:22-31.) This trust in God presupposes resignation to God's will. It ever bears in mind that God is far more effective in directing human events than man, that what seems an evil on the natural plane may really be a means of advancing in God's grace if accepted with the proper spir-itual dispositions. Thus in turning away from unnecessary fears and worries it does not fall into the fault of presumption. Rather it con-ditions the religious to view all things in their proper perspective and to avoid unnecessary fear by turning to God in confidence and resig-nation. It eliminates doubt, anxiety, and worry, and allows the reli-gious to face life at peace with himself and with God. OUR CONTRIBUTORS EDWARD J. CARNEY is superior of the House of Studies of the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales, Washington, D.C. J. CREUSEN. well-known authority on canon law, is a professor at the Gregorian University, Rome. WINFRID HERBST, writer, retreat master, is on the faculty of the Salvatorian 'Seminary, St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. FRANCIS P. LEBUFFE, for many years on the staff of America, is at present engaged in Sodality work in the East. ALBERT MUNTSCH is a professor of sociology a-nd philosophy at St. Louis University. PATRICK F. MURRAY is a mem-ber of the Jesuit Mission Band of the Maryland Province. EDWARD STANTON is completing his theological studies at Weston College, Weston, Massachusetts. 72 Re: Penitential Instruments Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. IN A DRAWER in my desk I have a large candy box containing an assortment of penitential instruments, to wit: one large hair shirt made of sterilized horsehair and one hair waistband of the same material; one large and 6ne small discipline made of Spanish hemp as well as one plain and one studded discipline made Of small but e~- cient steel chains; one waist chain and one arm chain made of stainless steel wire, the points of which will bear a bit of filing flat lest they pierce the skin. The set is purely for purposes of study and demon-stration-- visual instruction of a rare kind. Many religious (dare I say "most"?) have never seen the like. I confess that the very feel of some of them makes me shudder; and a young novice who saw them for the first time turned pale, grew weak at the sight, and, knowing that discretion is the better part of valor, sat down on a convenient chair. Among the instruments in this formidable collection (and I sup-pose there are other styles and varieties) I look upon the steel chains and the steel disciplines, especially the studded discipline, as the most dangerous, as apt to cause wounds that in our day of germs could easily lead to infection and medical care. The chains should never be so sharp-pointed as to pierce the skin and should be worn only for brief periods of an hour or so at a time and when one is at ease, as during meditation; and should invariably be removed when one is going to be in any way actively engaged. And the steel-pointed dis-cipline, to my mind, should be used only for display purposes, to show that modern man is not as thick-skinned as his ancestors were. The large hair shirt and the hair band cause me less perturbation. Both can be worn for brief periods, not to exceed an hour, let us say, unless one finds that it is injurious, causing subsequent rash, itch, and so forth. The waistband may be worn over the skin but the large hair shirt is better worn over the underwear or even over the shirt. The one in my collection is a wicked thing and reminds you quite insistently that you are a poor sinner even when worn in this com-promise manner. The hempen disciplines are the simplest and safest instruments in ¯ my interesting collection, provided one reasonably limits the strokes, 73 WINFRID HERBST Ret~iew for Religious both as regards number and force, and lets them fall discreetly on that portion of the body which can best take punishment without real injury, where the proverbial dad (now outdated too) applied the ; strap out in. the woodshed. Those are just my ideas, of course; others may think otherwise but not necessarily so wisely. And I know of religious who have used even the chains (points filed fia!!) regularly several times a week for years and never a bit of harm did it do them, though it was real penance, especially the putting on of the clammy thing on a cold win-ter morning ! Before I go any further, I wish it to be distinctly understood, as shall be several times repeated, that none of the above penitential instruments or others like them may be used without special permis-sion from one's confessor or spiritual director--permission as regard:~ manner of use and length of time--permission that is given only after due discussion of all the factors involved. It is, of course, quite evi-dent that this permission is not necessary in those institutes which prescribe such penances by rule or by legitimate custom, unless it is ,expressly mentioned in the constitutions that one must, even in the case of custom, have the confessor's permission. Nor does this per-mission seem to be necessary for a very moderate occasional use (by way of experiment, for instance), unless.it is evident from the pre-vailing practice of the institute that nothing at all of this nature "may be done without spiritual direction. The question now arises: Is the use of these penitential instru-ments to be recommended at all? That depends. If you are an utterly unmortified religious, an unobservant religious, one who is not even making an attempt to keep the ordinary constitutions-- the answer is, no! You have many more important mortifications to practice before you even attempt these supererogatory practices. You should remember that no source of mortification is more efficacious, universal, and secure than the perfect observance of the holy rule, that its observance is surer and more meritorious than any self-chosen penance. If, however, you are a truly observant religious and are doing all your state of life demands as perfectly as possible--the answer is, yes, with due discretion and the permission of your con-fessor or spiritual director, remembering that these practices are not of obligation. The rules of most religious orderk or congregations do not offi-cially impose any corporal mortification but only suggest ~he idea. 74 March, 19 4 9 RE: PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS Thus in various constitutions we read passages like the following: "The chastisement of the body must not be immoderate or indis-creet, in watcl~ing, abstinence, and other external penances and labors, which are wont to do hurt and hinder greater good. Wherefore it is expedient that everyone should lay open to his confessor what he does in this respect." "Since corporal penances contribute much to spiritual advance-ment, their practice must not be neglected by the members." "In the private practice of ordinary mortifications and corporal penances which are not injurious to health the members are guided by the judgment of the confessor alone: for external and public penances, however, they also need the permission of the local Superior." ""With still greater reason each one shall renounce the flesh and its concupiscences, pride and its suggestions, ambition and its intrigues, causing, according to the words of the apostle, 'his members to die,' even though it required fasting, the discipline, and the hair shirt. No austerity, however, is' to be practiced by a religious without the per-mission of his confessor or Director." This last passage, from Directions for Novitiates of the Congre-gation of the Hohj Cross1 by the Very Rev. Gilbert Francais, C.S.C., is commented on at length in that excellent classic. From those pages of comment (40-44) I make the following extracts: "Corporal mortification is more than a humiliation; it is both a humiliation and a physical pain that we very willingly impose on ourselves, either for the purpose of keeping ourselves from sin, or in order to punish ourselves for having sinned, or for the still higher motive of suffering with Christ Who suffered for us. This simple definition places corporal mortification beyond the reach of the silly and unjust ridicule to which the spirit of the world would subject it. The world very readily admits that we may inflict sufferings, may accept sufferings,' or may impose sufferings on ourselves, for the fur-therance of great human interests. It admits, it demands, it requires, that to save the country we shall fast, shall go through painful exer-cises by which the body is worn down and broken; shall accustom ourselves to carry heavy burdens, to make long marches, to put up with hunger, thirst, cold and heat; to sleep on straw or the bare ground, occasionally to pass whole Mgbts without sleep; in a word, to break and discipline ourselves in every way. This is the fate in 1Published by the Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. Quotations with special permission of the editor, Father P. d. Carroll. C.S.C., who writes: "The book, how-ever, is out of print and I do not know where you could obtain copies of it." 75 WINFRID HERBST Revieu~ ior Religious store for all soldiers, and the most beautiful names are given to this spirit of sacrifice and mortification in favor of a noble object. "The world even goes so far as to allow its votaries to suffer, to expose themselves to a thousand sacrifices, to a thousand sufferings, for the object of a sinful passion. Not only does it not laugh at these mortifications, but it reads the history of them in novels with intense interest, and in the theatre it looks upon the representation of them with eager avidity. Those mortifications which the world admits and admires when there is question of defending our country, or even of concentrating on a guilty passion--by a strange perversity it ceases to tolerate them and it mocks them when it is a question of defending one's soul against the powers of darkness, of .saving it for eternity, and of following in the footsteps of Christ . There is a serious lesson for us in this, and we are almost guilty when, at the instigation of this thoroughly wicked spirit, condemned irremediably by Our Lord, we blush at Christian mortifications, and when, on this point, we are tempted to return a smile for its laugh--a laugh both stupid~ and shameless. "Corporal mortification is, therefore, most truly noble. This is not all. There may be circumstances, and especially for the Religious who is called to such delicate perfection even in l~is secret tl~oughts, in which it becomes a moral necessity . "Corporal mortification is useful not merely to triumph over exceptional dangers; it serves to avert them, to remove them further and further from" us, and, in a manner, to render them infrequent. It is an act of manly e, nergy and of higher authority towards a body which should be kept in its place as a slave and made to obey. It is an act of justice by which we ourselves, with our own hands, punish ourselves for having sinned; and not only does God approve of this expiation and recognize its value, but He is pleased with us because of our own accord we execute what His justice would require Him to inflict on us in the flames of Purgatory . " 'No austerity, however is to be practiced without the permis-sion of one's confessor or Director.' This condition is wise and necessary, in order to check indiscreet zeal towards one's self, to be sure of doing" the holy will of God, and to add to the intrinsic, merit of the act by which we mortify ourselves the great merit of obedi-ence." I know there are many kinds of mortification: interior, of imagination, mind, will, heart, the passions; exterior, sight, hearing, 76 March, 1949 RE : PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS taste, touch, smell, tongue. I know that the mortification of the senses, as St. Francis de Sales says, is more profitable than the wearing of hair shirts or steel chains or using the discipline. "I know that in addition to taking what God sends in the line of sickness and so forth, in addition to doingone's duty,and in addition to the Church's fast and abstinence, the faithful observance of the prescriptions of modesty and good deportment offer an extensive (and, alas! often uncultivated) field for mortification. But in this article I am lim-iting myself to corporal mortifications of the kind suggested by my collection of penitential instruments. In The Spiritual Life by Tanquerey we read (No. 774) : "There are other positive means of mortification which penitent souls inspired by generosity deIigbt to employ in 'order to subdue their bodies, to temper the importunities of the flesh and give vent to their holy desires. The more customary ones are small iron bracelets clasped to the arms, chains worn about the loins, hairshirts, or a few strokes of the discipline when this last can be done without attracting any notice. As to all such practices one must faithfully follow the advice of one's spiritual director, shun whatever tends to evince any singularity or to flatter vanity, not to speak of whatever would be against the rules of hygiene and personal cleanliness. The spiritual director should not give his sanction to any of these extraordinary .practices except with the greatest discretion, only for a time, and on trial. Should it come to his notice that any inconveniences arise therefrom, he must bring them to a halt." As a footnote to this he says: "To resume the practices of corporal mortification is one of the most effective means of regaining lost joy of spirit and fervor of soul: 'Let us go back to our bodily mortifications. Let us bruise our flesh and draw a littl~ of our blood, and we shall be as happy as the day is long. If the Saints are such gay spirits, and monks and nuns such unaccountably cheerful creatures, it is simply because their bodies, like St. Paul's, are chastised and kept under with an unflinching sharpness and a vigorous discretion.' (Faber, The Blessed Sacra-ment, Book II, Section VII.)" It is perhaps this expression of Father Faber's, "draw a little of our blood," which prompted a religious to say to me, when I cau-tioned that one must never cause a real wound in the flesh when using penitential instruments: "But we were told that corporal penance doesn't really amount to much unless we draw a little blood." I vigorously protest. I do not agree. It does amount to much. 77 WINFRID HERBST Rep~eto for Religiotts And it is against the present-day rules of hygiene thus to d~aw even a little blood. Why, even my favorite author Cappello, Italian and ascetic as he is, gives the following rules to be observed as regards corporal morti- £cations.--Such corporal mortifications (macerations) as are too injurious to health are never permitted. The following are among macerations of this kind: (a) flagellations in which the discipline is applied to the more tender parts of the body or upon wounds not yet healed or by using a discipline studded with sharp points that pierce the flesh; (b) hair shirts made of steel thread so thin that the sharp points penetrate the flesh; or hair shirts that are too tight; or hair shirts that are.constantly worn ; (~). th~ privation of sleep, so that the penitent habitually has less than ~'~vdn hours rest. (Please note, you who burn the midnight oil!) A~ regards corpora/mortifications in genera/, we must distinguish between the case in which the penitent asks permission to employ them and the case in which there is no request for such permission. In case there is no request, the confessor may indeed advise some fasting or some other slight¯penances, but not the hair shirt or the discipline. In case the penitent does ask, the confessor usually puts him off with a view to seeing whether or not he will ask again. If he asks again and very ea'rnestly, the confessor may find it well to grant permission, provided that the penitent is very well grounded in humility and genuine wrtue, in which'case he will at first grant permission to prac-tice such and such a corporal mortification for such and such a length of time on certain days. These are the rules ordir~arily followed by a spiritual director. In case of great necessity and of a penitent disposed to do hard things, he may more easily permit macerations or advise them, but always with due prudence and discretion. (Cf. Cappello, De Sacramentis, vol. 2, No. 573, edition of 1943.) And now, in conclusion, I imagine how some of my readers have been following my ramblings with an amused smile. Perhaps they. are saying within themselves: "Evidently the good man doesn't know that we have to lay it on good and heavy, according to the rule. He seems to think that what he calls macerations are out of date." But I do know. And I do not think so. I bow myself out with the following excerpt from The Catholic Encyclopedia, arti41e "Asceticism," in volume one: "In some of the 78 March, 19 4 9 RE: PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS orders the rules make no mention of corporal penance at all, leaving that to individual devotion; in others great austerity is prescribed, but excess is provided against'both by the fact that the rules have been subjected to pontifical approval and because superiors can grant exceptions. That such penitential practices produce morbid and gloomy characters is absurd to those who know the light-beartedness that prevails in strict religious communities; that they are injurious to health and even abbreviate life cannot be seriously maintained in view of the remarkable longevity noted among the members of very austere orders. It is true that in the lives of the saints we meet with some very extraordinary and apparently extravagant mortifications; but in the first place, what is extraordinary, and extravagant, and severe in one generation may not be so in another which is ruder and more inured to hardship. Again, they are not proposed for imitation, nor is it always necessary to admit their wisdom, nor that the biog-rapher was not exaggerating, or describing as continual what was only occasional; and on the other band it is not forbidden to suppose that some of tl~ese penitents may have been prompted by the Spirit of God to make themselves atoning victims for the sins of others. Besides, it must not be forgotten that these practices went hand in hand with the cultivation of the sublimest virtues, that they were for the most part performed in secret, and in no case for ostentation and display. But e;cen if there was abuse, the Church is not responsible for the aberrations of individuals,, nor does her teaching become wrong if misunderstood or misapplied .The virtue of prudence is a part of asceticism." CANONICAL LEGISLATION CONCERNING RELIGIOUS The authorized English translation of that part of the Code of Canon Law which governs religious is now available in the United States under the title Canonical Legislation Concerning Religious. The booklet is published and dis-tributed by the Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. (Pp. 74. Price: 75 cents [paper] .) 79 The I-lundredt:old Edward Stanton, S.J. 44~ND everyone who has left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and shall possess life everlasting" (Mr. 19:29). If this expression, "the hundred-fold," is read out of context, it can easily be misunderstood. Actually, in the earlier verses of this same chapter in Saint Matthew's Gospel we read that our Lord had offered "treasure in heaven" to the rich young man on condition that he would accept the invitation to "go sell what thou hast, and give to the poor . and come follow me": there also we read His comparison between a camel struggling through the eye of a needle a'nd a rich man squeezing through the gates of heaven. In the light of these two observations which Christ made on the hazards of wealth, it would seem quite inconsistent to have Him, in verse twenty-nine, speaking primarily of a return in kind of the very things He invited religious to renounce in order to imitate more closely His example of detachment, poverty, submission, and obedience. It may be helpful, then, to consider briefly what various Fathers of the Church and some modern exegetes have had to say about Christ's promise of the hundredfold as it applies to those who have answered His call to the cloister. Saint Jerome, whose opinion in interpreting the hundredfold Venerable Bede followed three centuries later, stresses spiritual goods almost to the exclusion of material pos-sessions. He speaks of peace of heart, joy, divine consolations, and other gifts and graces with which God comforts His servants and which He lavishes upon them. These gifts are the rich rewards of a life of consecration to God's service, "for they surpass all earthly goods and joys far more than a hundred exceeds unity." In much the same way, Saint Ambrose (In Ps. cxix) understands by the hun-dredfold God HimselL and consequently the whole world which is God's possession. To such as leave all things for God's sake God is father, mother, wife, brother, sister, and all things--"because," remarks the saint, "he who has left all things begins to possess God, and He is, as it were, the perfect reward of virtues, which isreckoned not by the enumeration of a hundredfold, but by the estimation of 80 THE HUNDREDFOI.D perfect virtue." He cites the example of the tribe of Levi which by God's command was deprived of its portion of the Holy Land. How-ever, the Lord Himself promised that He would be its portion and inheritance. And from this he concludes: "He who has God for his portion is the possessor of all nature. Instead of lands he is sufficient ¯ to himself, having good fruit, which cannot perish. Instead of hquses it is enough for him that there is the habitation of God, and the temple of God, than which nothing can be more precious. For what is more precious than God? That is the portion which no earthly inheritance can equal. What is more magnificent than the celestial host? What more blessed than divine possession?" Saint Augustine (Epist. 89, quaest. 4) declares: "The whole world is the riches of the faithful." And Saint Gregory (Horn. 18 in Ezecb.) writes in the same vein: "He shall receive a hundredfold becauke God shall take care that such a one shall rejoice far more in his poverty, or his renunciation of his goods for the love of Christ, than rich men rejoice in all their riches and advantages." Father Cornelius a Lapide, referring to a parallel passage in Saint Luke's Gospel, explains the hundredfold as "many times more." More recent commentators, such as Fathers C. L. Fillion. F.C. Ceulemans, J. M. Lagrange, and J. A. Petit, in their com-mentaries on these words of Christ, lay special emphasis on the spir-itual rewards of peace, joy, and consolation even in the midst of sufferings and persecutions. The words of Father Alfred Durand in the Verbum Salutis series are worth quoting: "The hundredfold will not be given without persecutions (Mk. 10:30) ; this is a new proof that in this present life it should be bestowed for a religious purpose and not for a purely earthly advantage. This is what Saint Paul (2 Cor. 6:10) has summed up in a wo~d, speaking of himseIf and of the other Apostles: 'as having nothing, yet possessing all things.' "It goes without saying that the promise of the hundredfold thus understood, comprises . a tacit condition: unless it pleases God to dispose otherwise and that in our personal interest. Is there any need to add that a means given by God for the temporal support of the "ministers of His word' should not be considered as an end in itself? That would no longer mean renouncement but a miserable calcula-tion. Moreover, the hundredfold does not mean wealth." The request the mother of the sons of Zebedee made of Christ: "Command that these my two sons may sit, one at thy right hand, and one at thy left hand, in thy kingdom"; the question the dis- .8l PRUDENCE--,/si NECESSARY VIRTUE ciples put to Christ after His resurrection: "Lord, wilt thou at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?"--and many similar statements in the New Testament appear to us today, to have sprung from a background of ignorance. We conclude immediately that the ones who made these requests had forgotten Christ's words: "The king-dom of God is within you," and again: "My kingdom is not of this world." Yet, are there not some religious who at some time .or other have sighed the lament o-f the disciples on the way to Emmaus: sperabarnus, "we were hoping"? Could it be that we were disap-pointedin our hopes because they were founded on our own fanciful dreams, rather than on the words of Christ? Of this we may be sure, that God, our "reward exceeding great," will infallibly make good His word that those who, in their zeal "for the better gifts," have left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's" sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and shall possess life everlasting." Prudence--A Necessary Virtue Albert Muntscb, S.d. DO NOT the very nature of the religious calling and the many safeguards it offers its followers protect the latter from impru-dent ways and methods? Unfortunately, no. In religious life much is left to the good judgment of the individual, and he may easily adopt manners and fall into habits which do not harmonize with the high ideals of his profession. In other words, lack of pru-dence may vitiate well-formed plans and purposes, at least in their execution. Today, especially, when there are many occasions which bring religious persons into freer association with worldlings and worldly practices than was formerly the case, the virtue of prudence should accompany them like a guardian spirit. It is all well to say that new duties demand new methods of approach; but they do not call for laying aside the splendid poise and bearing, the recollection and exterior reserve that should always characterize the soul which has exchanged the trappings of the world for the livery of Christ. Those .who think they have larger privileges to imitate worldly 82 March, 19 4 9 PRUDENCE--A NECESSARY VIRTUE ways and to follow worldly patterns are precisely the ones who need most the protecting strength of Christian prudende. The world bestows an approving smile upon all who fall into its ways and fol-low its changing patterns; but in secret, it ridicules and condemns. Would that this were n~)t so. But the wise and thoughtfM, who hold fast to the way of the rule and regulations sanctiofied by higher wis-dom, need not be convinced by a telltale list of "the preceding proved by example." Prudence is an indispensable part of the armor of every religious. It is required in the classroom. The illustraiions and examples, the applications and iomparisons used to explain texts and principles need not be such as to suggest familiarity with the follies of the idle rich nor the pastimes of the degraded proletariate. No doubt, more than one Christian teacher has been savagely criticized in the home circle precisely for such lack of prudence in the classroom. Prudence is required in caring for the patient in the hospital. The inhibitory powers of tl~e sick and convalescent are often lowered, and they may unwisely and unfairly expect a degree of attention-- perhaps of affectionate care--which is not within the right of any religious to bestow. In such cases guidance by the spirit of the rule, if not by the letter, may be the best preservation from ugly conces-sions. The prudent religious will look at the crucifix in the sick room and will hear the voice of the Master counseIing conduct based on the fear of the Lord. "Blessed is he who offendeth not in speech." Prudence in con-versation with those not of the community, and especially with those not of the household of the faith, is a gift to be prized. Let Christ be our model both in what is to be said and, more especially, in what is to remain unsaid. In the recorded conversations of Christ you find no insinuation of base motives. Only a brave, fearless, outspoken denunciation of hypocrisy, sin, deceit, and hardheartedness; and then only when it was necessary and would prove beneficial to the offender or the bystander. And there is the important matter of friendship--both in and outside of the community. What is of God? What springs from the cravings of lower nature? Is the friendship founded on the real supernatural motive of charity? Would it be approved by Christ if He were present in person and you could lay the case before Him? Weighty questions these, whose answers entail a goodly amount of prudence, prudence based on Christian faith and charity. 83 ALBERT MUNTSCH Review for Religious There remains the vast field of personal attitudes, likes, dislikes, preferences. Is it wise to manifest them to one and all at the slightest provocation? Are others really interested to know of them or do they care to hear of them? Prudence cautions wise restraint. Some religious tell their hearers loudly: "I just hate such a thing and abominate such and such conduct!" Is this confession not apt to act as a boomerang which will bring sharp criticism for the uncalled for manifestation of your attitudes? St. Paul, in his ep!stle to the Ephesians, (chapter 6), describes what has come to be known as "The Christian Armor." This Chris-tian panoply includes the breastplate of justice', the shield of faith, and the helmet of salvation. But can we not say that the virtue of prudence is to guide every Christian in the use of these powerful spir-itual weapons? Prudence is one of the four cardinal virtues, which are defined as, "the four principal virtues upon which the rest of the moral virtues turn." A careful reading of the lives of the saints, as well as recollections of Catholic missionary activity in foreign lands, show how all-important is the virtue of prudence. It was at times the only guide to' success in the Christian warfare, andprepared the way for the entrance of the Gospel of Peace in foreign lands. Take the case of the famous Jesuit missionary Robert de Nobili (1577-1656). He labored in Madura, Mysore, and the Karnatic. In his day the system of caste was perhaps more rigorous than in our time. In order to gain over the Brahmins, he decided to follow some of their ~igorous modes of life. The cry arose that the missionary was adopting pagan customs, and that his example was apt to lead the native Christians astray. In the controversy which followed, one virtue was above all necessary. This was prudence. Should the mis-sionary discontinue his practice and so lose the golden opportunity to convert the higher caste Brahmins? Or should he consult the well'ire of the weaker brethren who would not be able to understand the meaning and motives of his procedure? Prudence justified him in continuing to adopt these foreign customs. He was later officially directed to cease these practices; but in the decision finally given, De Nobili was justified insofar as the customs which he upheld were distinctly cultural and had no necessary connection with worship of the Supreme Being. As stated in a preceding paragraph, the virtue of prudence is per-haps more necessary today when religious have so many opportunities 84 March, 1949 PRUDENCE--A NECESSARY VIRZFUE of coming in contact with people in the world. @he writer recalls a meeting of a scientific society several years ago when a member of a religious community arose several times to present some opinions on the questions under discussion. On one occasion especially this reli-gious embarrassed the audience by presenting views which apparently no one could follow and which seemed to be utterly wide of the mark. Finally, at the suggestion of one of the delegates, the religious ceased from further speaking. We leave it to the judgment of the reader to decide whether or not the virtue of prudence would have prevented this embarrassing incident. Is it not.significant in this connection to recall that one of the great saints of the New Testament--St. Joseph, the Head of the Holy Family--is referred to in liturgical hymns, as "'uir prudens et fidelis." Prudence guided him in his,first associations with the Mother.of God; and the Holy Scripture refers to his embarrassment so delicately, in a delicate situation. It was his prudence that directed him in such a way that won for him the approval of the evangelist. The three great model saints of Catholic youtb--Aloysius, Stanislaus, and John Berchmans--were each one distinguished in his own way for the prac-tice of Christian virtue. Yet each one of these distinguished members in Christ's army wa.s guided by that necessary virtue, prudence. If this virtue bad not been present, they might easily have become offensive to their fellow religious and might have failed to become models for youth in aftertimes, t3ut prudence kept them on a path which exemplified the highest type of spirituality and the greatest love of God, and yet made them dear to and worthy of imitation by those who saw their bright example. These are only a few simple thoughts on a virtue which is apt to be pushed aside like Cinderella in order to give scope to the practice of "heroic virtue." Heroic virtue--that is what we all need and desire-- is to be found in the daily practice of little duties in the spirit of faith, with eyes fixed on God, but above all in the spirit of sweet charity towards all of God's children. Let us then realize that this cardinal virtue is a most potent weapon for shielding us from many pitfalls and for aiding us to a higher degree of perfection in the life of religion. 85 Adapt:at:ion J. Creusen, S.J. Translated from the French by Cla.rence McAuliffe, S.J. [This article first appeared in Reuue des Communaut& Religieuses, XVIlI, 97. It is translated and printed here with the author's permission. The author, though a recognized expert on the religious life, would not want his suggestions to be taken as the last word on the subject of adaptation. Discussion of many of the points in the article, especially as they might apply to the United Sates, is desirable: and we shall welcome communications of this nature.--ED.] ADAPTisAa proTblemIOthatNbesets every age, but- it be- ~omes particularly pressing at times of rapid and,far-reaching social changes. That ours is such a time is beyond all question. When the religious life comes under scrutiny, the probl~m may be posed somewhat as follows: Is it expedient that religious life be adapted to the new circumstances of our times, or must novices and young religious adjust themselves to those demands that are looked upon as essential to genuine religious, life? In this article we intend to try to give the broad outlines of an answer to this extensive question. To adapt oneself means to conform one's life and conduct to a new set of circumstances. If a person travels from one climate to an entirely different one, he must adapt himself to the latter in matters of food, clothing, and work. He must in other words adjust his habits in such things to the requirements of heat and cold. A person must know how to adapt his ways of speaking, of teaching, of nursing the sick, and so forth to the diverse circumstances in which he is placed. Adaptation, therefore, involves change; but not from a mere desire for change in itself, or from fickleness, but from a desire to be able'to live or to act more profitably. Since surrounding circumstances do nor remain fixed, every living thing is compelled to make some adaptations. Just as winter imposes its own special demands, so also does summer. Once a being becomes incapable of adaptation, it is doomed to destruction. Acts that are devoid of adaptation are ineffectual and, as a consequence, usele.ss. Religious life, too, since it is a form of living and acting, cannot be an exception to this law. Apart from the basic applications of sovereign moral and ascetical principles, religious life imposes obliga-tions and norms of conduct that owe their rise to the exigencies or 86 ADAPTATION conditions of special circumstances or of a particular epoch. We need not dwell on this truth which is irrefutable and called into question by scarcely anybody. II The Church, while always remaining faithful to principle, pro-vides us with .striking examples of adaptation. She does not alter by one jot the dogmatic truths which Christ has entrusted to her. Truth does not change with the passage of time. It remains immutable, though the formulas expressing it may vary because of the evolution of human language. For this reason the Church does not alter her moral principles. She condemns contradictory heresies, not only those which unduly exalt human freedom or the worth of creatures, but those also which profess io deny the goodness of the divine work even in material creation. While proclaiming the superiority of per-fect chastit~ over conjugal chastity, she rejects the error of those who condemn marriage. While reminding us of the heroic mortifications practised by the saints, she does not prohibit or dissuade anyone from drinking wine temperately. Did not Christ choose wine as the mat-ter/ from which His greatest Sacrament would spring? ~ta The Church aiso keeps intact, insofar as possible, the fundamen-ls of her liturgy and even of her discipline. To maintain sacerdotal celibacy in the Latin Church, she has had to bear the brunt of recurring attacks. Even within recent memory Pope Benedict XV took occasion to declare that the Holy See would not relax her dis-cipline in this matter even though her failure to do so might prompt some priests to schism. Yet, only an'ecclesistical law is at stake, and its abrogation would imply no loss of essential doctrine. However, bowing to demands arising from circumstances of time and place, the Church does modify, either temporarily or perman-ently, certain disciplinary decrees even though they may date back to the very beginning of her history. Her legislation regarding fast and abstinence both during Lent and on Ember days, and particularly on vigils; has undergone remarkable relaxations. It should be noted, too, that some of these modifications even preceded the war of 1914-1918. Moreover, from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century the secluded or segregated aspect of religious life passed through a total transfor-mation. This was, so to speak, thrust upon the Holy See because many religious congregations had already contributed to it by the adaptations which they themselves had espoused. Again, within 87 J. CREUSEN Relaiew for Religious recent years we have witnessed a considerable extension of the liberty accorded to religious in the choice, at least periodically, of their con-fessors. The Holy See has regarded this as an inevitable consequence rio.wing from the abandonment of rigid seclusion, from a more pro-nounced awareness of freedom of conscience, and from'the new legis-lation about frequent Communion. The first decrees of Plus Xupon this last subject were greeted with vigorous opposition. But even though the highest superiors of some of the most distinguished orders remonstrated, they could not shake his resolve to grant this adapta-tion. Does not the Holy See guide us along the same road when it approves the most diversified forms of religious life? An enormous distance has been traveled from the day when Plus V wanted to oblige all religious to papal enclosure and solemn vows to the present time when approval is extended to religious societies whose members do not even live in community. On the other hand, the Church is prudent in her approach to such adaptations. She undertakes them gradually; she looks about for guarantees of their worth; she often delays until isolated experiments have demonstrated the harmlessness, the usefulness, and the need of the proposed change. Notice, too, how certain devotions, such as the devotion to the Sacred Heart, have passed through progressive stages of approbation. Again, are we not eyewitnesses of the transformation in some liturgi-cal practices? However, in matters liturgical, regardles~ of who may assert the contrary, the Holy See by no means allows priests, bereft as they are of all authority, to introduce changes as they please. Liturgi-cal practices emanate from the authority of the Holy See, which has reserved to itself exclusively the right to pass judgment on their pro-priety. Hence, without special authorization a priest may not cele-brate Mass while facing the congregation. It is no excuse to plead that such an adaptation is required by liturgical progress. III Objects of Adaptation 1. It is perfectly clear that no change can be made in the basic principles of the spiritual life which our Savior taught in His gospel. No matter what development of ideas or of customs may take place, self-abnegation and the way of the Cross will always remain the indispensable means of acquiring and fostering that perfect charity which unites us to God. To prove this we have at hand the explicit 88 March, 1949 ADAPTATION and unequivocal teaching of the gospels, the sum-total of tradition, the testimony and practice of all the saints. Against this solid truth, only specious arguments could be advanced. For instance, someone might contend that a person must necessarily revel in creatures in order to raise himself to God by their instrumentality. The genuine mystics, however, keep telling us that long and rigorous privation and self-denial are the gateway to contemplation and the fruition of God through the enjoyment of creatures. The religious spirit, diametrically opposed as it is to the spirit of the world, must be preserved. The new generation no less than the old must renounce the world--its ease, its dissipation, its spirit of independence and of criticism. The characteristic spirit of each insti-tute is also a treasure that should be jealously guarded. Is not this spirit the handiwork of divine grace operating in the souls of founders and foundresses? Moreover, the primary applications of general prin-ciples of Christian asceticism will remain unchanged or but slightly modified. For instance, certain safeguards of chastity, since they are required by the ingrained weakness of human nature, are always valid and are not out of step with variations in custom. Thus the practice of consulting a retreat director only in the confessional, or possibly in the parlor but not in his private room, will be maintained. Parlors where priests converse with religious women, whether young or old. should have doors panelled with glass. No need or legitimate reason exists for altering this usage. 2. Some adaptations are absolutel~t necessar~t. A. By reason of changes in ecclesiastical legislation. We have already mentioned the comparatively recent laws dealing with confessions of religious men and women. At first some supe-riors objected to these laws because they believed that this new lib-erty, unknown as it was to the earlier history of their institute, engendered a real danger. Today we can hope that such a state of mind has disappeared. The custom of exposing the Blessed Sacrament during Masses of some slightly greater solemnity than usual had ~o cease when the decree was issued allowing exposition only during Masses within the octave of the Feast of Corpus Christi and during the Forty Hours. Again, the Congregation of the Sacraments has very clearly expressed its desire that freedom to abstain from Holy Communion should be facilitated by every means in those communi-ties or social groups that receive Communion at a specified time. The habit of approaching the Holy Table in order of seniority, whether 89 J. CREUSEN Review for Religious of profession or of age, is certainly an obstacle to such freedom. Moreover, this ancient practice has been eliminated in some of the most famous orders. Communion is received without any regard for the position one occupies in the chapel or in the community. We have nothing but praise for this adaptation. It might even be con- , sidered as obligatory insofar as it can be done, because of the directives of the Sacred Congregation. B. By reason of the growth of the institute. When an institute spreads beyond the borders of its native coun-try and branches out into many foreign lands, the time has come when religious of other nationalities should be granted their rightful place in the government of the institute. This is particularly true when the foreigners outnumber members belonging to the native land of the founder or foundress. The foreigners, therefore, should be represented at general congregations or chapters. Just as the Holy Father chooses cardinals from all countries and from all nationalities, so should a general congregation be truly representative of the entire institute. This procedure, moreover, is necessary in order to forestall the temptation to separation from the institute. When religious bodies of men, and especially of women, find themselves systematically excluded from the government of their institute, they fall an easy prey to this temptation. Unfortunately, too, this temptation is often induced and kept alive by some of the local clergy who are anxious to exert a more direct and more extensive jurisdiction over the religious in their own country. The day may well come when thought must be give'n to forming a new province from a group of houses which have grown in number and importance. Similarly, the wisdom of suppressing a province must also be weighed when it has a dearth of members and cannot anticipate a fresh increase of novices for a long l~ime. If such a prov-ince is not suppressed, a general chapter will not have a jr/st propor-tion of representatives from various sections of the institute. As a result, certain groups get.the definite impression that they are gov-erned by superiors and chapters that ignore or neglect their own special interests. A more delicate question comes up, but we cannot waive it. Some institutes keep their communities stamped with a truly international character. In such cases it should not be surprising to find that the superiors of these communities are not citizens of the country where the house is established. O~her institutes, on the contrary, by reason 90 March, 19 4 9 ADAPTATION of the very necessities of their apostolate, must choose local superiors from persons who are either natives of the country or at least speak its language. It is easy enough to understand why authority should be exercised for a long time by superiors (we speak here particularly of communities of women) who are natives of the country in which the institute had its origin; but this state of affairs should not be pro-longed indefinitely. The time comes when it is fitting to appoint English or Irish superiors in England, American superiors in the United States, Belgians in Belgium, and so on. Omit this adaptation and the institute presents a foreign appearance in the country. This is damaging both to the recruiting of novices and to union of spirit. In addition, it furnishes the clergy of the land with a pretext or reason for inducing the native members to withdraw from their religious family and to found another of exactly the same kind, but one that is independent and better suited to the requirements of local conditions. On the other hand, the hearts of all become attached to the institute when confidence is reposed in those who are foreign to the country of its origin: C. By reason of the swift euolution of ideas and custbms. It is evident that the first condition for the proper direction of novices and young religious is to understand them. This supposes personal contact with, as well as experimental knowledge of, the external conditions in which they have been reared and educated. Sometimes masters and mistresses of novices, though quite elderly, understand modern youth perfectly because they have been in constant touch with it for many years. A true youthfulness of spirit results from this uninterrupted contact. However, when a successor has to be appointed to this office, it is important to select someone who is young enough to have retained memories dating from recent times and also youth's natural gift of facile adaptability. These qualities make it possible to understand the ideas, impressions, reactions, and mistakes of the young souls who are to be guided; and such understanding is a requisite condition for exercising 'influence and inspiring confidence. The same qualities should be found in prefects or directors of studies, and also in the superiors of certain houses. The physical condition of modern youth should enter into our consideration no less than its psychological dispositions. The war has radically affected the nervous systems of most young men and women who knock at the doors of our novitiates. This fact must be taken into account- seriously when matters concerning diet, length of 91 J. CREUSEN Review for Religious sleep, and the amount and kind of recreation are determined. When the garden is not sufficiently extensive, physical exercises can be very much in place.1 They afford relaxation from the overconstraint brought on by the religious habit, the practice of modesty, and a life that is too sedentary. In some countries it is perfectly circumspect for religious to enjoy the refreshment of a bath in a,swimming pool or in a pond located on the conveht grounds. In other countries, however, public opinion will hardly allow religious or clerics to swim even in a pool of their own. It is clear that public opinion must be reckoned with in this matter. D. B~] reason of special local circumstances. Most institutes having houses in hot climates have gradually adapted their religious garb to the climate so as not to wear out their subjects prematurely. Again, doctors scarcely allow religious nurses to enter the operating room unless their clothing is adapted to the functions to be performed there. Some cornets or headdresses have to be ruled out because they hinder freedom of bodily action too much. A white dress or apron will also have to be slipped over the religious habit. We need not insist on this because it causes no difficulty, and all institutes willingly consent to it. 3. Some adaptations though not necessary can be very suitable. Hence they are more or less important or urgent. The rational grounds underlying them resemble those we have mentioned above. A. The Liturgical Movement, for instance, will prompt the taking of a more intimate and active part while assisting at the Holy Sacrifice. All members of the community will be provided with a missal so that they can follow the prayers of the priest. On certain days, perhaps, the dialog Mass will be held. Some of the set prayers recited in common might be profitably replaced by others borrowed from the liturgy. One community, for example, has introduced the custom of reciting Compline as its evening prayer. B. Today quite a few candidates for religious life bring along a personal formation which their elders did not always have. This is explained by the modern abundance of spiritual literature, by more frequent confessions, and by more carefully organized closed retreats. Such candidates, of course, have new needs with regard to partictilar modes of the spiritual life. Would this not be a reason for doing lln the text Father Creusen seems to recommend calisthenics provided religious have not the facilities for other forms of exercises. His recommendation is hardly a sug-gestion to establish a regular regime of calisthenics, obligatory on alI.--ED. 92 March, 1949 ADAPTATION away with the custom, still widely in vogue, of reading the points of meditation every evening for the entire community? Would it not lead at least to the elimination of their rereading in the morning? Complaints about this matter are voiced quite often and they seem to be well-founded. After some time a suitably formed religious soul should be able to prepare for itself the matter of its prayer. It will feel drawn toward~ such or such a subject. Why compel such a one to listen in the morning to an entirely different kind of subject mat: ter? Sometimes even the manner of presentation does not correspond to the state of such a person's soul, to say nothing of its failure tO correspond to the mentality of the majority in the community. It is one thing to supply subject matter for morning prayer to novices for a time, or to provide the same help to the lay Sisters. It is quite a different thing to foist such subject matter' on persons who are already fuIIy formed both intellectually and spiritually. It would be absolutely intolerable, of course, for religious to lose their appreciation for the Rosary or for the beautiful invocations o~ litanies which are approved by the Holy See. But no need exists to' inspire a kind of distaste for these devotions by their overmultiplica-tion. It is hardly necessary to add that superiors should see with jealous care that fidelity is always maintained to the mental prayer prescribed by the constitutions. Sometimes, the length or number of vocal prayers recited in common infringes noticeably on the morning or evening meditation. C. Demands made b~t teachir~g. How many young religious men and women today must prepare for two, three, or four years to take examinations that require a considerableamount of knowledge as well as extensive laboratory exercises. The daily order should be adapted to this kind of work. To repeat certain courses intelligently or to put certain compositions in final form calls for. undisturbed and protor~ged study. Such students, therefore, should have at their disposal quite lengthy periods of study and should not be obliged to interrupt their study to attend to exercises of piety or manual labor. Some daily orders were formulated at a period when the preliminaries before class took practically no time or effort, especially after several years of prac-tical preparation. They are not at all suitable to present-day require-ments in the matter of study. The same holds true of preparation for examinations. Not forgetting, therefore, that some more elderly members may also be included in the dispensation, these young reli-gious will be dispensed from certain observances. Other members of 93 J. CREUSEN Reoieto for Religious the community who have more time either by reason of age or work, can continue to keep them. The Holy See sets the example here, for in the great monastic orders it allows exemption from choir to stu-dents of philosophy and theology. D. Technical progress. In a house of some size a house telephone system saves a considerable 'amount of time and eliminates many fatiguing trips and distractions. Telephones are p'erfectly in order in the rooms of the superior, the assistant, the treasurer, the prefects of study and of discipline, as well as in the kitchen, the infirmary, the tailor shop, and so on. How many runnings to and fro would be avoided, how many conversations shortened, what an asset for con-tinued and peaceful labor! An outside telephone evidently brings up different problems. Its use should not be permitted to the free choice of the members of the community. Simple prudence and sometimes the observance of poverty demand some limitations. Here again a wise adaptation is very much in place. The same should be said of the use of automobiles. A visitor was told in a kind of boasting way that in a house of studies there were at least fifteen typewriters. "How does it happen," he said, "that there are only fifteen? Each professor and most of the students should have their own typewriters." We submit this answer to the reflection of superiors. It is certain at any rate that a typewriter is no longer an object of luxury and can be strictly necessary for a teacher or a writer. Even the organization of work in some religious houses would profit much if it were inspired by the modern methods pursued in enterprises of considerable scope. An industrialist who had become a religious told us one time: "What an extravagance of personnel, what losses of time, what a lessening of the effectiveness of our work because we are not rationally organized." We might mention by way of example lack of adequate space, manual tasks imposed on eminent religious because they do not have secretaries to help them in their work, the lack of suitable instruments for work (furniture, index files, and so forth). E. The growth of the Institute brings up another very delic~ite question: Is it proper and, if so, when is it proper to transfer the gen-eral headquarters of the institute to Rome? To begin with, let us say that, although the Holy 'See wants to see a house of every institute at Rome, the Sacred Congregation does not urge all institutes to transfer the mother house there. When a mother house has been a cradle of 94 March, 19 4 9 ADAPTATION the institute; when it has been sanctified and made famous by the vir-tues and sometimes even the miracles of the founder or foundres~;' when most cherished memories are connected with it; we can readily understand that truly valid reasons are wanting for its removal. This is true even though one of the suggested reasons for removal is the advan'tage of baying the mother house in the center of Christianity. Proximity to the Vatican is not an indispensable condition for fos-teringdeep attachment to the Sovereign Pontiff and for acquiring a truly Catholic spirit. However, it can happen that the mother house by reason of the spread of the institute can lose its prestige in the minds of very many members; whereas the actual presence of the superior general's house in Rome certainIy lends to a congregation a mark of universalism and a feeling of union with the Holy See, both of which promote devotion in all members of the institute to those who govern it. Consequently 'it might be well to ask if such a project should not be submitted to the deliberations of a general chapter. IV How should the adaptation be carried out? 1. With prudence. To adapt means to change; and we know that changes do not always take place without shock. Sometimes they cause surprise. Oftentimes ~they inspire spirits of lesser con-stancy and prudence with a desire to introduce other changes which no good reason counsels or commands. Once a change is made it is often difficult, even impossible, to retrace one's steps. Hence a choice should be made in. the alterations to be introduced. Sometimes the unfavorable aspects of a change are perceived only after it has been made. This is an additional reason for seriously considering all possible consequences beforehand. A religious once suggested to his superior that a door be installed at a certain spot in the coiridor. The superior answered: "My dear father, in such and such a year a door was put there; some time later, another superior had it taken out. Later on it was replaced, and then it vanished again. Don't you think it is better to leave things as they are?" Hence counsel should be sought, but not solely from those who are so set in their ways that they cannot imagine or accept any change. It will be helpful to get information .from religious men or women of other institutes. What works well in one institute of the same kind may prove advantageous and beneficial in similar circum- 95 BOOK REVIEWS Review For Religious stances. When feasible, an experiment should be made without offering the change as permanent. 2. With decision. Prudence does not require an indefinite delay before introducing beneficial or necessary changes. Such delay easily engenders restlessness and regrettable criticism. Once the utility or the need of a change has been recognized, it should be introduced with-out complaints, without laments over the evils of the time, without harking back continually to the advantages of the former system. Such a policy might disco.urage souls of good will, or embitter those less favorably disposed. Above all the principle, "That was never done before and things went along all right" should be avoided. Such reasoning simply and categorically closes the door to all progress. Dis-tinction must be made between healthy tradition, custom, and row. line. The first is, generally spea.king, to be kept; the second can and sometimes should be changed: the third should be unequivocally condemned. ook Reviews THE LORD'S SERMON ON THE MOUNT. By St. Augustine. Translafed from the Latin by John J. Jepspn, S.S. Pp. v~ -f- 227. The Newman Press, Wes÷mlns÷er, Maryland, 1948. $2.75. The editors of "The Ancient Christian Writers" seri?s, Dr. Jo-hannes Quasten and Dr. Joseph Plumpe of Catholic University, have again succeeded magnificently in presenting to the English-speaking world an excellent translation of an important work of. Augustine. The entire work is a pithy, thorough analysis of the most challenging of all messages, the Sermon on the Mount, the party platform of Christianity. The work is divided into two books. Book One delves into the meaning of the sermon. Book Two establishes the truth that it is humanly possible to put the Sermon on the Mount into practice, that this sermon is not a moral code for a select few but a perfect pat-tern of Christian living, that it does not contain only counsels for a better class of Christians but rather also for every follower of Christ. The intimate relation between ethics and religion as it appears in this sermon intrigued the great mind of Augustine, and he set himself 96 March, 1949 BOOK REVIEWS to explore this relationship. As a result, in this volume we meet Augustine the moral theologian rather than Augustine the- dogmatic theologian, the ethics master rather than the metaphysician. As a result too, the book is easier to understand, more pleasant, even more devotional at times, as compared with his heavier dogmatic works. The cases handled and the learned discussions concerning them prove Augustine to be the greatest exponent of moral theology in Christian antiquity. In this work he 'made an impoftant contribution both to the science of ethics in general and to that of moral theology in particular. Several of Augustine's comparisons make for instructive and pro-vocative reading. He compares the Beatitudes with the Gifts of the Holy Ghost; and be concludes his book by comparing them to the seven petitions of the Our Father, saying that the first seven Beati-tudes are stages of grace that correspond to the seven petitions of the Our Father as they ask for the coming of the Kingdom of God. The treatment of the Our Father has excellent material for prayerful reflec-tion. One final asset of the book is the copious notes that clarify difficult passages and correct dubious solutions.--V. P. MICELI, S.J. YOU CAN CHANGE THE WORLD! The Chris÷opher Approach. By James Keller, M.M. Pp. xlx q- 387. Longmans Green and Co., Inc., New York, 1948. $3.00. The opening message of this book is that "the United States is being effectively undermined by less than one percent of the people of our country," who are fired by "a militant hatred for the basic truths upon which this nation is founded," and. who, in order to poison the minds of many, "make it their business to get into one of the four in-fluential spheres of activity which touch and sway the majority of the people." The challenge that immediately follows this message is that an equal number of people, fired by a love of Christian principles, desirous of enlightening the minds of the many, can enter the same influential spheres and save the country. And, since this parallel can be extended from country to country, the Christ-bearers (Christo-phers) can save the world. This, however, is only a part of the chal-lenge, for the emphasis of this whole Christopher movement is on the you (singular) ; and it says to every Christ-bearer, "'You can save the world." I will not attempt to give a complete outline or criticism of Father Keller's book. As a matter of fact, it is not a book in the ordinary 97 ]~OOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious sense; and anyone who wishes to read it as a book will very probably punish his-head mercilessly. It is a manual, a detailed plan of action covering the four major spheres of influence--education, government, labor-management, and writing--in which every individual who at least believes in God and in the fundamental moral truths can help to counteract the anti-God campaign that is now wrecking the country and the world. It does not stop, however, at these major spheres. It goes into the library, into business, onto the campus, and into the heart to convince every individual of good will that be can do some-thing and to point the way to do it. Because of this extensive scope and the multiple suggestions contained under each head, You Can Change the World is intended more for piecemeal pondering accbrding to one's own circumstances than for reading straight through. A large percentage of our readers can use Father Keller's book very effectively. It could make a fine basis for a discussion of various apostolic works; also for a consideration of various avocations (~nd sometimes of vocations). _And I might add that one can hardly read the opening chapters without being urged to pray for the world, and particularly for the Communists. One reader of the book said that he had not finished five pages before it suddenly came home to him that it would be better to pray for the Communists than against them. If Father Keller accomplished nothing more than to throw emphasis on conversion rather than destruction, on love rather than hate, his book and the whole Christopher movement would be more than justified. In one respect this book treads on what I might term "theological thin ice." Father Keller's message is addressed to all men who hold to the moral fundamentals, irrespective of their religious affiliations, and he encourages all to communicate what truth they have to others. This is a dangerous message and it must be phrased skillfully. The appeal to all men independently of religious attachments can readily connote-religious indifferentism; and the charge to spread what truth they have can lead to communicating the errors woven into the parr tial truths. On the first stretch of thin ice (the appeal to all men of good will) Father Keller is in the very safe company of Plus XII. The second stretch is more dangerous; yet it seems better to risk a plunge into the cold waters of misinterpretation by a positive and encouraging approach to those outside the Faith than to remain (freezing, more or less) in the so-called safety zone of negativism. As a matter of fact, my general impression is that Father Keller crosses 98 March, 1949 BOOK NOTICES even this very perilous patch with remarkable skill and courage. He makes it perfectly clear that his book and the Christopher movement are under Catholic auspices: he does not water down the fact that only Catholics possess the fullness of God's truth; and, in drawing up a minimum plan for the spiritual life of a Christopher, he wisely lim-its his suggestions to Catbolics.---G. KELLY, S.J. BOOK NATURAL AND SUPERNATURAL WEDLOCK, A LENTEN COURSE OF SEVEN SERMONS, by the Reverend Clement H. Crock, includes the best ideas from many sermons on marriage prepared by the author over a long period of years. Compiled in response to requests of bishops and priests for a series of concise, up-to-date Lenten sermons on matrimony, couched in simple, straightforward language, and pleasantly sprinkled with an abundance of apt illustrative examples, these seven sermons drive home .the fundamental doctrine which should be known by those already married and those preparing for marriage. They are easily adaptable for long or short sermons, and should prove very useful for all preachers. (New York City: Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., I948. Pp. 64.) THE JOY OF SERVING GOD by Dom Basil Hemphill, O.S.B.,con-talus twenty chapters, eacl4 of which deals with some important vir-tue or practice of the religious or priestly life. As usually happens, these time-honored subjects, such as humility, charity, spiritual reading, suffering, obedience, silence, detachment, derive new fresh-ness from their treatment by another personality. The book, there-fore, is worth adding to the community library. It is hard to see. why the author omits chapters on the vows of poverty and chastity since they are basic elements of the religious life. A few inaccuracies mar the book. For instance, very few theologians would want to defend this sentence: "All the venial sins of our past life for which we are sorry are forgiven by every absolution, whether they have been mentioned or not" (p. 162). Neither is it correct to say that one of the constitutive elements of the sacrament of penance is the "performing our penance" (p. 157). The meaning of the "imprimatur" on a book is not expressed clearly enough (p. 170). It is also surprising to find silence described as the "twin" of obedience 99 BOOK NOTICES Reoiew for Religious (p. 15). It is rather an atmosphere in which all virtues flourish. But despite these flaws, which after all take up but a few lines of the vol-ume, the book by its simplicity of style and general soundness will provide enlightenment and inspiration for many. (St. Louis, Mis-souri: B. Herder Book Company, 1948. Pp. x + 194. $2.50.) As its title indicates, OUR LADY'S DIGEST contains Marian articles chosen from Catholic magazines and books. It follows the familiar pattern of the Catholic Digest and other similar magazines, differing from them only in subject matter. The articles are frequently very good; but the stories, which are few in number, are with some excep-tions below average in literary quality as are also the poems. The various issues to date (the magazine has been in publication for almost three years) are uneven in quality, but in general are im-proving. With good editing the publication should develop into a very valuable and interesting magazine. (Olivet, Illinois. 11 issues per year. $2.00.) OUR LADY'S HOURS, by Mary Ryan, discusses the meaning and the beauty of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. This discussion is preceded by two chapters on "Liturgical Prayer" and "The Divine Office." The book should be of great value to Sisters and others who say the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Book shop, 1948. Pp. xv + 195. $2.50.) THE IMITATION OF MARY contains brief chapters with Marian thoughts selected from the writings of Thomas ~ Kempis and edited by Dr. Albin de Cigala. Each "thought" is followed by applications made by the compiler. The book does not approach the appeal of The Imitation of Christ, but it contains a fair number of interesting thoughts. The attempt to arrange the material to fit the fifteen mys-teries of the Rosary is not successful. The work was translated from the original French by a Dominican Sister. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1948. Pp. 114. $1.00 [paper] : $2.25 [cloth].) RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF YOUNG CHILDREN, by S.N.D., has four parts. The first is historical and highlights the chief events in Our Lord's life. The second is doctrinal, corresponding roughly to the Creed. The third and fourth parts deal with the child's first steps to God: prayer, confession, and Communion. The narratives and instructions are simple and adapted to the tiny capacity of the very young. Religion is presented, not so much as a stern Creed, Code, 100 March, 1949 BOOK NOTICES and Cult but as an attractive and lovable person whom the child is drawn to follow. The copious suggestions and devices after each les-son are practical aids to help the child live, love, and serve Christ, his best Friend, twenty-four hours every day--on Monday as well as on Sunday. Parents and teachers will discover in this charming book the secret of that most difficult of arts--introducing a child to the Lover of little children. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Bookshop, 1947. Pp. 173. $2.25.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS. [We have been receiving more books than we can possibly review. Because of this we must make a decided change in our policy. In future we shall list each book received and shall in most cases include a brief descriptive notice of the contents, in so far as this can be estimated from a glance at tbe book, the jacket, and the pub-lisher's announcement. This is the most that we can guarantee for any book. Some books, of course, will be reviewed later or will be given a more complete and critical notice. We can make no guarantee at all for booklets and pamphlets. The list of books announced here supplements the list included in our January number, p. 56. This list, together with the reviews and notices published in this issue, is a complete acknowledgement of all books received up to February 10, 1949, and not previously reviewed.] BENZIGER BROTHERS, INC., 26 Park Place, New York 7, N. Y. Our Lady of Fatima, Queen of Peace. By Joseph Delabays; translated by John H. Askin. Pp. xv + 197. $2.75, A fairly full history of the Fatima story, fol-lowed by nearly fifty pages of prayers to Mary, Five illustrations. BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 540 N. Milwaukee St., Milwaukee I, Wis. Vade Mecum for Teachers of Religion. By Sister M. Catherine Frederic, O.S.F. Edited by the Rt. Roy. William F. Lawlor. Pp. xvi -'k 344. $4.00. A grade school teacher's reference book containing material on the liturgy, the Mass, a glos-sary of ecclesiastical terms and abbreviations, and brief lives of class patron saints recommended for study. The Watch. By the Most Rev. Alfred A. Sinnott, D,D., Archbishop of Winni-peg. Pp. vii -5 155. 1947. $2.50. Contains fourteen Holy Hours for use each month of the year, for Holy Thursday, and for Forty Hours. CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, Washington,-D.C. The Provincial Religious Superior. By Rom~eus W. O'Brien, O.Carm. Pp. x q- 294. Adissertation on the rights and duties of provincials in religious orders of men. EVANS-WINTER-HEBB, INC., Detroit, Mich. No Greater Service. By Sister M. Rosalita, I.H.M. Pp. xx q- 863. The history of the Congregation of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Mon-roe, Michigan, (1845- 1945), with a foreword by His Eminence, Edward Cardinal Mooney. Achievement of a Century. By the same author. Pp. xiii -Jr 299. An account of the mother house and missions of the congregation. Both volumes pro-fusely illustrated. $15.00 for both volumes. Order From: Publications Office, Saint Mary's, Monroe, Michigan. FATHERS OF THE SACRED HEARTS, 4930 South Dakota Ave., N.E., Washington 17, D.C. 101 BOOK NOTICES Review For Religious Father Damien: Apostle of the Lepers. By the Most Reverend Amleto Giovanni Cicognani. Pp. 47. $.50 (paper). THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. As Others See Us. By Henry Brenner, O.S.B. Pp. 117. $1.25. Presents the Sacred Humanity of Christ as the mirror in which we may see ourselves. The Mass Year. By Placidus Kempf, O.S.B. Pp. 124. $.30. A daily Mass guide for 1949 with liturgical reflections on some of the SeCrets. The Virgin's Land. By the Young .Monks of St. Meinrad's Abbey. Pp. 97. $.50 (paper). B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 17 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. Where We Got the Bible. By th," Rt. Rev. Henry G. Graham. Pp. xii q- 166. Paper. $1.00. Tells how the Catholic Church preserved the Bible. A reprint of a work that has not been available for several years. Meditations For Evergman. By Joseph McSorley, C.S.P. Volume II. Contains. meditations for each day of the liturgical year from Pentecost to Advent; also a handy index of the Scripture texts on which the meditations are based. Pp. vi 211. $2.75. Dante Theologian, A translation of and commentary on The Divine Comedy, by the Rev. Patrick Cummins, O.S.B. Contains an English version of the encyclical on Dante, the text of The Divine Comedy, commentaries, and a dictionary of proper names. Pp. 604. $6.00. The Three Ages of the Interior Life. Volume II. By the Rev. R. Garrigou- Lagrange, O.P. Translated by Sister M. Timothea Doyle, O.P. Pp. xiv -[- 668. $7.50. The present volume discusses the illuminative and the unitive ways and extraordinary graces. Second Latin. By Cora Carroll Scanlon and Charles L. Scanlon. Pp. vi -1- 270. ' $3.50. Intended for students who can devote only two years to the study of Latin and who must be prepared to read Latin textbooks of philosophy, theology, and canon law. The Well of Living Waters. By. Pascal P. Parente. Pp. viii -t- 335. $3.50. Excerpts on spiritual topics from the Bible, the Fathers, and the masters of the spiritual life. P. J. KENEDY ~ SONS, 12 Barclay Street, New York 8, N. Y. Another Tu2o Hundred Sermon Notes. By the Rev. F. H. Drinkwater. Pp. ~ii -t- 210. $4,25. Provides from two to five outlines for each Sunday of the year, as well as a choice of themeS, for a large number of feasts and occasions when a pul-pit talk is in order. L'IMMACULI~E-CONCEPTION, 1844 est, rue Rachel, Montreal (34), Canada. Lumiire et Sagesse. By Lucien Roy, S.J. Pp. 301. A study of mystical grace according to the theology of St. Thomas. LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO., INC., 55 Fifth Ave., New York, N. Y. You Can Change the World. By James.Keller, M.M. Pp. xix -b" 387. This is the story of "The Christopher Approach"-~of how the ordinary man can do a great job ifi changing the world for the better. $3,00. Transformation in Christ. By Dietrich yon Hildebrand. Pp. ix -b 406. $4.50. The theme of the book is the operation of the supernatural life in the sphere of personal morality. Lord, Teach us to Pratl. By Paul Claudel. Translated b~" Ruth Bethell. Pp. 95. $2.00. De La Salle: A Pioneer of Modern Education. By W, J. Battersby, Foreword by A. C. F. Beales. Pp. xix + 236. $3.50. 102 March, 1949 BOOK NOTICES Sermons and Discourses: (1825-39). Pp. xviii q- 348. $3.50. --- Sermons and Discourses: (1839-57). Pp. xvli-b- 382, $3,50,--Two more volumes of the new series of the works of John Henry Cardinal Newman. Edited by Charles Frederick Harrold. MACMILLAN COMPANY, 60 Fifth Avenue. New York. Mary o[ Nazareth: A True Portrait. By Igino Giordani. Translated by Mother Clelia Maranzana and Mother Mary Paula Wiltiamson. Pp. xlx + 185, $2.75. MARQUETTE UNIVERSITY PRESS, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Peace Proposals of Plus Xll in the Writings of David Lawrence. By Sister Cath-erine Joseph Wilcox, S.P. ,Pp. xi q- 95. A dissertation. THE MARYKNOLL BOOKSHELF, Marykn911, N. Message of Fatima. A unit of work for intermediate grades. Lithographed. Pp. 103. How the People o[ the Andes Live. A new unit of study on Peru, Bolivia, and Ecuador. Assembled in loose-leaf binder. $1.50, .THE MERCIER PRESS, Cork. Communism and Ireland. By Sean P. MacEaoin. Pp. 132. Paper: 3/6d. Westward by Command. By Maire Cotter. Pp. 159. $2.50. A life of Mother Cabrini. THE MISSION PRESS, 1502 West Ashby Place, San Antonio 1, Texas. The True Concept of Literature. By Austin J. App, Ph. D. Pp. v -1- 110. Paper: $1.00. NATIONAL CENTER OF THE ENTHRONEMENT. 4930 So. Dakota Ave., N. E. Washington 17, D. C. Proceedings of the'First National Congress of the Enthronement of the Sacred Heart in the Home. Pp. 92. Paper: $1.00. Contains much conference material. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Ancient Christian Writers, No. 6. This volume comprises The Didache, The Epistle of Barnabas, The Epistles and the Martyrdom of St. Polycarp, The Frag-ments of Papias, The Epistle to Diognetus. Newly translated and annotated by James A. Kleist, S.J. Pp. vi + 235. $2.75. Meditations on Christian Dog.ran. By the Rev. James Bellord, D.D. Vol. I: Pp. xxv--[- 369; Vol. II: xiv -[- 363. $7.50 for the set of 2 volumes. The medita-tions cover the whole of dogma. Two pages for each meditation. They seem very solld. This is a Newman reprint of a work that has not been available for a long time. The Vell Upon the Heart. By George Byrne. S.J. Pp. viii q-- 103. The book treats of private prayer. Thy Light and TbU Truth. By Rev. Robert Nash. S,J. Pp. 197. $2.50. A book of meditations. A selection of the Spiritual Book Associates. The Old Testament and The Future Life. By Edmu, nd F. Sutcliffe, S.J. 2nd. edition. Pp. vii q- 201. $3.50. Surveys the development of the doctrine of the future life as it is found in the Old Testament. The Way of the Mystics. By H. C. Graef. Pp. 160. $2.75. A study of the mystical life in various mystics. Christ ls All. By John Carr, C.SS.R. Pp. 143. $2.25. This is the fourth impression; the Imprimatur is dated 1928. According to the author's preface, the book is of a moral and devotional nature and is intended to make Cath,olics' belief in Our Lord more vivid and practical. The Mystical Body, the Foundation of the Spiritual Life. By Father M. Eugen~ 103 BOOK NOTICES Revieu~ for Religiou,~ Boylan00.Cist.R. Pp. 130. $1.75, cloth: $.90, paper. This was the April (1948) selection of the Spiritual Book Associates. The Liturgical Year. Volume I: Advent. By Abbot Gu~ra, nger, O.S.B. Pp. x + 520. The price of the present volume is $4.00. Subscribers to the entire set of 15 volumes are entitled to a discount of 25 per cent. Another Newman reprint of a classic work. Catechism Stories. By the Rev. F. H. Drinkwater. Pp. xxxv ÷ 480. $3.'50. Contains nearly seven hundred stories, each designed to drive home some point of Catholic teaching. Written originally as a companion to the English catechism, this American edition has references to the appropriate sections of the Revised Baltimore Catechism No. 2. Diocesan Censures "Latae Sententiae" and Reseroed Sins in the United States. Compiled at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Md. Pp. 38. Paper: 50 cents per copy; 6 or more copies, 20 per cent discount. A handy booklet for students of canon law and for priests in the ministry. A Retreat Souvenir. By Father Victor, C.P. Pp. 79. Paper: 30 cents. A translation of the French. Intended primarily for girls and young women who have made an enclosed retreat. Platform Replies. By the Very Rev. J. P. Arendzen. Volume 1. Pp. 199. Paper: $1.75. Answers to questions on ethics and religion. Companion to the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius. By Aloysius Ambruzzl, S.J. (Third edition.) Pp. xiv + 348. $3.00. First Steps in the Religious Life. By Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Pp. 127. $2.50. A planned series of instructions on the religious life. Hidden Fields. By Sister M. Rosalia, M.H.S.H. Pp. viii + 55. $1.50 (paper). A brief sketch of the life of Mother M. Demetrlas, foundress and first superior gen-eral of the Mission Helpers of the Sacred Heart. The Liturgical Year: (Christmas, Book I, 4th ed.). Pp. vii + 456. $4.00. --The Liturgical Year (Christmas. Book II, 4th ed.) Pp. x ÷ 522. $4.00.-- Both by Abbot Gu~ranger. O.S.B. Translated by Dora Laurence Shepherd. The Lord is mg Jog. By Paul de Jaegher, S.J. Pp. 182. $2.50. Describes the relationship between happiness and holiness. The Mother of Jesus. By Father James, O.F.M.Cap. 'Pp. viii + 159. Chapter Headings: Portrait, Vocation, Immaculate, Pre-Ordained, Virgin-Mother, Media-tion, Queen. Nazareth. By J. K. Scheuber, O.S.B. Translated by the Venerable Archdeacon M. S. MacMahon. P.P., V.F. Pp. xiv + 278. $2.50. A pocket-size book of counsel and prayer for the married. Readings and Addresses. By the Reverend F. H. Drinkwater. Pp. vi + 190. " $2.75. For the Holy Hour and other occasions. Religious Teaching of Young Children. By S. N. D. Pp. 173. $2.25. A book for teachers and parents. A Spiritual Aeneid. By Monsignor Ronald A. Knox. Pp. v + 263. $I.00 (paper) : $3.00 (cloth). The author's account of his conversion. This Age and Marg. By Michael O'Carroll, C.S.Sp. Pp. viii + 158. $2.50. FREDERICK PUSTET COMPANY, INC., 14 Barclay Street, New York 8, N.Y. Ave Maris Stella. By Max F. Walz, C.PP.S. Pp. vii + 70. $1.50. Each chapter handles a stanza of the "Ave Maris Stella" hymn in the manner of the sec-ond- method-of-prayer. The Shepherdess of Souls. By a Sister of Mercy. Pp. ix + 125. $1.50. Each of the thirty-o.ne short considerations consists of a quotation from some book about 104 March, 19 4 9 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Mary, some thoughts about the event in her llfe, followed by a moral application to the reader's llfe, concluded with a prayer to Mary, and an appropriate poem. RADIO REPLIES PRESS, St. Paul I, Minn. The Singing Heart. By Rev. Lawrence G. Lovasik, S.V.D. P. 144. Sto~y of girl named Antoinette Marie Kuhn. ROSARY COLLEGE (Department of Library Science), River Forest, Ill. The Catholic Booklist: 1948. Pp. 110. $.60. The Catholic Booklist: 1949. Pp. 86. $.65 (paper). ST. ANTHONY GUILD PRESS, Paterson, New Jersey. The Book of Genesis. The first of a new set of translations of the Old Testa-ment. Work is done by scholars of the Catholic Biblical Association and is spon-sored by the Episcopal Committee of the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine. Pp. vi + 130. THE SENTINEL PRESS, 194 E. 76th St., New York 21, N. Y. The Eucharist and Christian Perfection. Parts I and II, translated from the French of Blessed Julian Eymard by Mrs. Amy Allen. Part I contains two retreats: one given to the Brothers of St. Vincent de Paul: the other to the Servants of the Blessed Sacrament. Part II contains a retreat given to the Blessed Sacrament Fathers. PartI:Pp. vi + 327; PartII, xii + 236. Each, $2.00. Month of St. Joseph. Translated from the French of Blessed Peter Julian Ey-mard. Pp. xxvi -1- 131. $1.50. Contains thoughts for each day of March. In the Liqht of the Monstrance. Translated from the French ol~ Blessed Peter Julian Eymard. Pp. vii + 248. $2.00. This volume contains miscellaneous writings of Blessed Eymard that represent the basic principles of his spiritual doc-trine. The compiler is the