Search results

Matthew Godfrey ; The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, WeberState University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ; 36p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Matthew Godfrey Interviewed By Rebecca Ory Hernandez 21 October 2011 1 November 2011 i ii Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Matthew Godfrey Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 21 October 2011 1 November 2011 Copyright © 2013 by Weber State University, Stewart Library iii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in the University Archives, which also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, Weber State University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Godfrey, Matthew, an oral history by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, 21 October and 1 November 2011, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. Matthew Godfrey ca. 1999 1 Abstract: Matthew Godfrey (June 30, 1970) was born in Ogden, UT. He spent his childhood years in North Ogden and attended Weber High School. Matthew attended Weber State University, where he got a master's degree in accounting and was an All-American on the track team. Matthew sat down with Rebecca Ory Hernandez in the Mayor's Office before the end of his third term. He shares stories of his life growing up and living in North Ogden, as well as his education and serving as Ogden's Mayor. He reflects on his time running for Mayor and discusses some of the major economic and development projects he worked on in his several terms after elected to beautify Ogden City. His father was William V. Godfrey, mayor of Harrisville. Matthew is currently working as a consultant and continues to serve on various community boards. He is married to Monica. ROH: Today is November 21, 2011. Seated in Mayor Matthew Godfrey's office are Rebecca Ory-Hernandez and Mayor Godfrey. We're here to talk about your history. Let's start with where and when you were born. MG: I was born here in Ogden at the old McKay Dee hospital that was across from Weber State. That was June 30, 1970. ROH: Did you have any brothers or sisters? MG: Growing up, there were five of us. I have an older sister, Malinda, then Jason and then me. After me were Deborah and Laura. I had another sister who died when she was eleven days old; her name was Rebecca. ROH: How much older are Jason and Malinda? 2 MG: The first four are all two years apart. Malinda was born in 1966, Jason in 1968, I was in 1970, and Deborah in 1972. Rebecca was born in 1974, and then she passed away. I think Laura was born in 1976. ROH: Did you grow up in Ogden? MG: I grew up in Harrisville. We lived right behind where the Wal-Mart is now. We grew up in the same house my mom grew up in. I never distinguished it much from Ogden. ROH: What are the names of your parents? MG: William Verl Godfrey and Carol Jeanne Godfrey. My mom went by Jeanne and my dad went by Bill. ROH: Tell me a little about your childhood growing up in Harrisville. MG: It was a wonderful place to grow up and I had a great childhood. We had land around our homes so we would go and play and ride bikes with friends. We did a lot of fun things together as boys—myself, my brother, and my cousin, after he moved in behind our house. It was a great time growing up. We got along really well. I enjoyed spending time with my family. It was kind of a family compound. Next door to us were my mom's parents; behind us were our cousins, the Fields, which was my mom's sister; behind them, later on, the Montgomery's built, and they were the family of another of my mom's sisters. ROH: Where did you go to school? MG: I went to Pioneer Elementary School, Walhquist Jr. High School and Weber High. Education was never stressed by my parents. Both of them went to a semester or two of college but didn't graduate. They never pushed it or said it was 3 important that we be good at math or reading or other topics. We got good grades and we all liked school, but I don't recall my mom saying I needed to go to college. I enjoyed school both academically and socially. I ran for some offices and had good experiences. ROH: What offices did you run for? MG: Eighth-grade president and then student body president at Walhquist Jr. High School. ROH: What other extra-curricular activities were you involved in? MG: I ran track. I really wanted to play basketball because basketball was a cool sport and track was not. I tried out for the basketball team. I was the last kid cut. I still remember that Lynn Wood and I had a one-on-one game at the end of practice to decide who was going to get on the team. He beat me by one basket. In hindsight, it was a good thing because if I'd made the team I would have pursued basketball and that's certainly not where my skills were. I played football my eighth and ninth grade years, which is tough when you're only a hundred pounds. I got my bell rung plenty, but I had a good time. My science teacher got a ferret and there were two of us that would go and take care of it. Those are the only extra-curricular things I did. ROH: What about high school? MG: I ran track and cross country. I was on seminary council my junior year and I was seminary president my senior year. It was against the rules to be a student body officer and be on the seminary council, so when I was asked to be on the 4 seminary council, I couldn't run for office. I think it was a good thing. I did debate as well. High school was a fun time. ROH: What was a typical day like for you in high school? MG: We woke up around 6:30 and we always had breakfast as a family. We'd pray and read scriptures as a family, then rush off to catch the bus to school. In high school, my parents had a car for all the kids. They didn't want us to have our own car. It was an ugly green GMC pickup truck that we were embarrassed to drive. We thought it was such an ugly truck. My junior year, much to my surprise, my dad bought a Fiat X-19. My dad bought it from my uncle who was glad to get rid of it. My junior and senior year I was able to drive this cool little sports car to school—when it worked, which it didn't much of the time. School would start around 7:15 and end around 3:00. Then, I would go run track or cross country until 5 or 5:30. I was always famished when I got home, and we always had dinner as a family around 6 or 6:30. ROH: What did your parents do for a living? MG: My mom stayed at home with us. My dad was an insurance agent. He had a tiny little yellow shack of an office until I was in my senior year in high school, when he went to work for Heiner's Insurance. My dad was the mayor of Harrisville and a councilman before that. I think he ran for mayor the first time while I was in high school and he lost by one vote. He ran again and won the second time around, which was just after I was married. He had a heart attack and was in the hospital the night he won the election. He came out of open heart surgery and found out that he'd won the election. 5 ROH: Was he influential in your decision to run for mayor? MG: He told me not to run. Almost twelve and a half years ago I went to talk to him out in the garage and said, "Dad, I'm thinking about running for mayor." He said, "Why would you do that?" I gave him my reasons. He said, "I would advise you not to do it. Maybe I'm being over-protective." He shared with me some experiences he had had of people being mean-spirited. He said, "Your friends and the people you go to church with are going to yell at you and say terrible things about you and I would rather you not have those kinds of experiences." He said that if I did decide to run, he would be supportive. I didn't have a political bug in me—we had to deliver fliers when he ran for office and I did not enjoy that at all. I didn't have much interest in politics, even though I'd run for two offices in school—that was more for fun. After I decided to run for mayor, my dad was a great support. ROH: Back up a little bit and let's talk about what happened after high school. MG: I got a track scholarship to Weber State. ROH: What was your major? MG: My undergraduate was finance and then I went on to get a master's degree in accounting at Weber, which was never the plan. The plan was to go away for a Master's degree in International Business. The NCAA kind of messed that up for me. At that time, you couldn't transfer schools without losing a year of eligibility. When I finished my undergraduate, I wanted to get a Master's but I couldn't transfer. Weber had two graduate degrees, the Masters of Business and the Masters of Accounting. I figured it out with the counselor and I could get four 6 bachelor's degrees or I could get a Master's degree, otherwise I would lose a year of track eligibility. So, I ended up getting a Master's in accounting even though I had no interest in accounting. I got them together and graduated with both degrees in 1995. I started in '88 and had a two-year mission within that time. ROH: Where did you go on your mission? MG: I went to Caracas, Venezuela. It provided a lot of great experiences and learning opportunities. A mission is an amazing amalgamation of experiences. It is extraordinarily difficult physically even though I ran track all through school. In Venezuela, we would walk several miles and then knock on doors all day in the sun. It was hot and humid and you're wet all day long. Continual rejection is something you have to learn to live with. Then you have to learn to live with another person. You don't choose your companion; they're assigned by the mission president. I think I had seventeen companions in twenty-four months. That's unusual. That was good but also hard. I had quite a few companions who were having problems and the president sent them to me—sometimes he told me in advance, but usually he didn't. After the difficult companion transferred the president would say, "Thanks, that's the longest he's ever stayed with anybody." It was a valuable experience to learn to live with somebody you don't know and who is often from another country. Usually you're living with someone with whom you have nothing in common except religion. I really like to get out, work hard and do things. I had companions who wanted to do what was easy, fun and enjoyable. Learning how to resolve those kinds of issues was a good experience and I think great preparation as well. It 7 was neat to see people change their lives as they listened to the Gospel and decided they were going to get baptized. I just got a call last month from a lady I baptized who was here in Utah. It was neat to talk with her and hear what was going on in her life and what she was doing. Those relationships were meaningful and they continue to be very rewarding experiences. I wish I would have kept better track of the people I knew there. It seemed unmanageable at the time, but today with Facebook and email it would be a piece of cake. The postal service is terrible in Venezuela, so I knew most of my letters wouldn't make it through anyway. ROH: What did you think about the contrast in geography? MG: It was very tropical and there was a desert in one area where I served. It's so beautiful and so ugly at the same time. It was fascinating to see how poorly the country was run; they had so much by way of natural resources and amenities of the earth, but they did a poor job of managing it. It was sad to see the poverty. I had heard about poverty, but when you see the depth of the poverty and the pervasiveness of it, you feel overwhelmed by it. It's not like you can help them out of it alone. That was hard. All I could do was share a message that could help their lives get better and hope that over time they could improve their situation. It was a beautiful landscape and I enjoyed the climate knowing I wouldn't choose to live in that kind of humidity. It was fun knowing I was going to be there for two years and then come back to this area. ROH: Did you run on your days off? 8 MG: A handful of times, but my philosophy was that if I put all my effort into serving well on my mission then things would work out with track. ROH: Did you get back into track and school when you got back? Or was it very different when you came back? MG: I got right back to both school and track. I hadn't run for two years, so it took time to get back in shape. I had more injuries after my mission, which could have been from the time off, but I was very poor and didn't change my shoes as often as I should have, so a lot of it I caused myself, I'm sure. I'm fairly bullet-proof with injuries, but I had a few years where I was injured quite a bit. Weber didn't put much money into their track program, even though it was probably the best athletic program they had. We won more championships and had more national recognition, I'm certain, than any other team on campus. It's not exciting when the cross country team places fourth or seventh in the nation. The coach was great and became a very good friend. I learned a lot from him about track and about life. The same with my high school coach—Dick Connelly. He passed away a few years ago. High school is such an impressionable time in your life and I thought I was a really good kid—seminary president, didn't go to parties and always did what I was supposed to be doing— but he pulled me aside several times and told me I needed to be doing better. It was shocking to me because I thought I was too far on the good side and needed to let my hair down a little. I was really grateful to him. He coached me well in running, but also in life. He was a wonderful man. ROH: Once you graduated from Weber, what did you do? 9 MG: I was married in the summer of my junior year of college, which was in 1993. Monica and I were introduced by someone on the track team. I had a freshman who had a locker next to me and from the time he came in he wanted to set me up with somebody that he knew. To be honest, I didn't trust his judgment. He was really fun-loving and kind of goofy, and I didn't know who Monica was but I was certain that she would not be someone I would be interested in. He kept asking and asking, and finally said, "Just meet her." We set something up where we would just pass each other and meet. We did that and she was much better looking than I had expected. We went out on a date—an almost-blind date. It wasn't wonderful. It was a wedding reception for a friend of mine. It was one of the most spectacular storms I've ever seen during my life here—in that six hour period of our date, it snowed probably two feet. We had a heck of a time getting from Ogden up to the valley and we ended up helping cars on the side of the road. It took us two hours to get to my friend's house and it was eleven at night by the time we did. It was still snowing, so we talked about just spending the night at my friend's house. Monica called her parents to ask and they said, "No way, if we have to come get you, we will, but you're not spending the night with a blind date in who-knows-where." After I thought about it, I thought it was probably what I would have said too, as a parent. So we made the trek back. We were married six months later. ROH: That must have been a busy time for you—a Master's program and track and getting married. You had a lot of change going on all at once. What was that like? 10 MG: It was fun and hard, for the reasons that you've stated. I was taking a lot of credit hours. One semester I had either twenty-eight or thirty-one credit hours. It was really hard and I was really busy. I was also adjunct faculty and I taught between one and three classes a semester. I was the evening assistant manager at Godfather's Pizza too. I was doing all of that and newly married and trying to figure out how a marriage works. My parent's relationship and her parent's relationship could not have been more different. I knew that and she recognized that our parents interacted in very different ways. That was hard because I had only seen things one way and she had only seen things one way. We had to figure out those dynamics and the personality of our relationship in a time where there was already a lot going on. ROH: Was she a student? MG: Yes. She ended up getting a degree in communications, which we both regret. She wanted a degree in nursing but her dad talked her out of it. He didn't want her to be a nurse, but said that she should go to school to be a doctor. She wanted to stay at home and raise our children, but that knowledge base would have been very valuable for our family. In one way, it was good because communications was a faster degree and she was able to get her degree quickly. She got pregnant our senior year and we had our first child about six or eight weeks before she graduated. My father would come over to our little house and watch the baby while we were both in school. ROH: Where was your first house? 11 MG: It was 780 32nd Street. It was a tiny little house but we loved it. We were able to buy it because my wife had saved up some money. We drove past it because it was near where we were renting and we talked the owner into selling it to us on contract. We gave him the $2,000 that Monica had saved as a down payment. ROH: What was your first child's name? MG: Natasha was our first. She was born in '95. ROH: My wife stayed home with Natasha and I got a job at Lomega as a financial analyst. I made $28, 500, which was really upsetting. I felt like with the master's degree and good grades—I was second in my class—I had hoped for more. But it was a job and I took it. It was a good experience, but I didn't stay long. I was there for about six months when I got a call from Dutch Belnap who used to be the athletic director at Weber State. He said, "Hey, Matt, I have these guys that are looking for a chief financial officer, are you interested?" I said, "Heck yeah." I talked to them and worked with them for three months. It was a disaster. I won't be disparaging about what went on. It was not what I wanted to do or where I wanted to work. Luckily, I was able to go back to Lomega and they took me back in a position that was better than the one I had left. I ended up being a program manager and supervising the release of new products. Lomega started out with a ditto drive, a tape back-up drive. Later, I moved to the zip drive. It was very challenging and very fast paced. I was laid-off, which is a great story. I was in meetings until 6:30 or 7:00 p.m. one night and my card wouldn't work to get back into my office. Somebody 12 came by and let me in. I went to my computer and my login wasn't working. I called the IT guy and said, "Hey, what's going on? My computer and my card aren't working." Then, all of the sudden, I realized I had been laid-off. We knew there were going to be massive lay-offs, but there were only two of us doing program management for the zip drive in the entire company and we went to our boss and asked, "Should we be worried?" He said, "No, if you guys weren't here, there's no one to do your job. There's no way you could be let go." So we both thought we were safe and yet we both were laid off. That didn't last very long, but they didn't bring me back to the same position. It was about two weeks later that they brought us back and they had me doing something similar but it was in the division in San Diego. I flew out Monday morning and flew home Friday night. I had been called to be a bishop in my church about a year before. I worked that schedule for about six months when I decided I couldn't do it anymore. I had been applying for other jobs but my stake president worked for the city and suggested I apply for a job in neighborhood development with the city. I had been doing some real estate on the side. I applied and didn't hear anything for three months. Then I was called in for an interview and again didn't hear anything for quite a few more months. I left Lomega and worked at the city. I wasn't very excited about that. ROH: What year was that? MG: I think it was the end of 1998. I told the city I couldn't live on the salary they gave me and that I needed to continue to do real estate on the side. They said that would be okay. I basically helped with neighborhood development. I went to city 13 council meetings and presented new projects. I kept thinking that the way the city was being run didn't make any sense. We had huge problems. Downtown was a mess and was continuing to cave, yet it seemed like we were the only ones doing anything to rebuild the town but we were doing it up in these neighborhoods. I said, "Why aren't we doing some mixed-used development downtown?" They laughed at me and said, "That's what we should be doing but the economic development guys aren't going to go for anything like that." I made other suggestions and kept saying, "Why doesn't the city do this?" or "Why doesn't the city do that?" I was brand new. I only worked for the city for six months total. One day, I got a call from the CAO, which is the guy right under the mayor. He said, "I understand you have a lot of ideas about what should happen in the city." He asked me to meet with him. I went to his office and started sharing the ideas. He was mostly listening and from time to time would write things down. Then, I got to crime and I said, "We need to focus on crime. Factual or not, there's a perceived crime issue. People think Ogden is riddled with crime and I think there needs to be a real emphasis on reducing crime." He put down his pen and said, "There is nothing that can be done about crime. Crime is driven by demographics and the economy and there's nothing you can do to change it." I said, "Well, I think we can change it and I think there are cities across the country that have, though it will take a lot of work." He put his pen down and folded his arms and I thought, "Well, this is over." I didn't say that, but I thanked him for his time and left soon thereafter. This was in the spring—in March. 14 I went home that night and thought, "Nothing's going to change." Until there is a vision and somebody who has a desire to make something happen, we're in a vortex and this town isn't going to escape. The guys running the city— the CAO—didn't believe things could change. I was upset by it and asked myself if I really wanted to stay here. I felt like I was on the Titanic. A week later the mayor announced he wasn't going to run for re-election. ROH: Who was the mayor? MG: Mayor Mecham. He was having heart failure. Nobody knew it at the time, but he was getting a heart transplant. He was a nice man, but he had several people in key positions that weren't making anything happen. I said, "Good, hopefully there will be somebody who jumps in the race who will do something." Then Garth Day announced he was going to run. He was just indicted up in Morgan County and sent to prison for fraud. He was on the city council and I had watched him flip-flop on issues until it drove me crazy. One day, I got up and spoke out about an issue because he was pushing an ordinance that had to do with the city yard-care regulations. They were saying, "We have these ordinances that require people to take care of their yard, but people don't." Garth Day was trying to get something passed where you'd put a big billboard, placard-type thing up in the person's yard that said, "This person is not complying with Ogden City regulations." He said, "If we do that, maybe we can shame them into compliance." While I was attending the meeting as a staff member, I figured that since I was also an Ogden resident I could address them as a constituent. I said, "What I think we should do is not embarrass people into 15 doing it, let's just enforce the law. I am certain that if you started enforcing the ordinances, you will change behavior. We just need to give citations and let their pocketbook change their behavior. If you put the signs up, they're just going to tear them down." I got in trouble the next day from my boss who said, "You should not be speaking out at these council meetings." ROH: Who was your boss? MG: Aaron Wolf-Burtling. He said, "I understand, but let wisdom dictate. We need the council to approve our plans." I said, "I know, but it was a dumb idea." He said, "I know, but you still need to be careful." Anyway, I had seen Garth and I thought, "He cannot be the next mayor. He'll destroy this town!" I like Garth; he and I developed a good relationship, but he was not the one to run the city. I kept waiting to hear who else was going to run. I heard there was another guy that everyone acknowledged was kind of a crazy guy. So, it was kind of depressing. There were some great people at the city and I'd rubbed shoulders with a lot of people who were really capable. There were some fantastic people at the city who wanted to do things but had been here for years and maybe just accepted that this was the way it was. I went home one day and said, "Monica, what would you think if I ran for mayor?" Her father was a state senator at the time and had been chair of the Weber County Democratic Party. He was very well known as a physician in town and very well-liked by everybody. Between my father and my father-in-law, you'd think that politics was kind of ingrained in me, but I had never had a desire to run for political office. My wife 16 and I hardly ever talk about politics. She was shocked. She said, "Why would you do that?" I said, "Who's going to run for Ogden City mayor if I don't? The town's in bad shape and it pays $70,000 a year. You're not going to get the capable executive who wants to come because he thinks this would be fun. No one is going to leave their career to be the Ogden City mayor." ROH: Give me some examples of some of the businesses that were leaving at that time. MG: Weber State. They had a downtown campus that they abandoned during that time period. When there was an Ogden City Mall downtown, Weber State had an office there. Weber abandoned that, for safety reasons. Nordstrom left. ATK Thiokol was here and they took off in the late '90s. There were little shops and little stores all around that shut their doors. ROH: Downtown Ogden was the premier place to shop. MG: That was before there were national chains, to be fair, but those slowly closed. It was sad. Generational businesses were going. ATK was a significant and high-paying employer who uprooted. We had salvage yards in what is now our central business district. That was my point to my wife: "There's no one who's going to take this on." We had our own business, a real estate holding and management company, so we decided that we were in a position where we could run for mayor. We talked about it and I talked to some people around town. I talked to my father-in-law and asked what he thought. He liked it. He said Ogden needed somebody with new ideas and new passion. He gave me a list of people to go talk to about it. After about a week of talking to a couple people every day—I still 17 worked at the city—I got called into the city attorney's office. One of the attorneys sat me down across the desk and said, "I understand you're thinking about running for mayor." I said, "How did you hear that?" He said, "Word has gotten back to the mayor that you're talking to people around town. Have you decided?" I said, "No, I haven't, I'm just kind of going through the process of trying to figure it out." He said, "You can't do that and be an employee here. If you're going to work for the city, you have to work for the city and not campaign to try to beat your boss." I said, "I'm pretty sure my constitutional rights give me the right to run for office if I want." He was the nicest guy and I said, "You don't really want to be having this conversation with me, do you?" He said, "No, I don't." I said, "You were sent to do this." He nodded. I said, "Well, I'll tell you what, you can go and tell them I've made up my mind and I'm going to run for mayor. You don't have to fire me, I'll quit." I went home and told Monica. ROH: I don't understand how that could be legal. MG: It wasn't legal and he knew it wasn't. He was sent to talk to me and later I found out why. It was because the mayor had somebody who was running and he didn't want me running against him. I'm sure that the CAO didn't want me running either because it was clear that his ideas and my ideas weren't aligning. I was twenty-eight at the time. I went around and talked to everyone about it. Inevitably, as I went around to people like, John E. Lindquist, and they'd say, "Why don't you run for city council first?" I'd say, "I don't have any interest in a political career and spending time to work up to become mayor because Ogden has problems now. If you and others think that my ideas are good ones and that I 18 can help turn the tide for the city, then great, I'm willing to do it. If not, I'm not going to try for the council." John A. Lindquist said, "How can I help you?" I said, "I need money." He pulled out his checkbook and wrote me a check. I felt like I was on cloud nine because I had the support of John A. Lindquist, who was the patriarch of the city and he'd just endorsed me. That was a real turning point for me. From there it was a lot of campaigning. ROH: Today is December 1, 2011 and we are in the office of Mayor Matthew Godfrey. Present is Matthew Godfrey and Rebecca Ory-Hernandez from Weber State University. We'll pick up today from where you started campaigning for mayor. MG: People started calling me and I had a few surprise phone calls from businessmen who said, "I want you to meet with somebody. He's run political campaigns across the country and he was a political advisor to Ronald Reagan." I met with the gentleman and he was very helpful. His name was Chuck Bailey; he's passed away since. That began the journey of knocking doors and meeting people and trying to win an election where you're virtually unknown in a community. It was probably the end of May when I made the decision and then in June I had my campaign declared. There were a lot of us who ran. My strategy and belief was that I needed to knock on every door in the city. I wasn't sophisticated enough to know that you don't knock on every door—you only knock the doors of those who actually vote. I was fortunate enough to win in the primary in October and then the office in November. ROH: What was a day in the campaign like for you? 19 MG: I had my own real estate holding and management company which I'd been building for several years and was doing full-time. I had three days a week that I would go and run that business. In the evenings, I would knock doors from five until 8:30 or 9:00. During the day, when I wasn't knocking doors or working, I'd organize volunteers and put together materials. There's a whole logistical side of it, with vendors and signs, and I had to organize volunteers for much of that. I knocked on doors Tuesday night through Friday night and then all day on Saturday. I learned that you can't go out at 9:30 a.m. or even 10:00 a.m. on Saturday, which was strange for me but for other people that was still sleeping time. ROH: How many volunteers did you have? MG: It was mainly family and friends. One of the ones who helped me a lot was Brandon Stevenson, who is now a city council member. We'd gone to high school together and I knew who he was but we weren't friends. I was better friends with his little brother. I got a call from Brandon saying he wanted to help and he was extremely helpful. He helped knock on doors and campaigned in his neighborhood. A lot of my family came out and knocked on doors and handed out fliers and put up signs. In the last campaign I had a large group that came to help, but usually it's a small group willing to put in the time to help you out. ROH: How much money were you expected to raise for your first campaign and what was your platform? MG: The most that had ever been raised previously was $14,000 by Mayor Mecham. I figured that if I raised more money than that, then I'd be in good shape. I ended 20 up raising about $28,000, and I was still outspent two-to-one. I think Bob Hunter spent $64,000 or something like that. I had probably as many signs out as Bob did, but I remember all of his four-by-eight signs had pictures of himself placed on top the week before the election. It was like Bob was everywhere. It was discouraging and we thought, "There's no way. He's spent way more money and put out more fliers and more signs. He's inundated the town with Bob Hunter." The platform that I ran on was three very specific things: lowering taxes, economic revitalization, and reducing crime. There were also components of that like getting into neighborhoods and making a difference, but I thought that those three main ideas were what people wanted. I had plans for each and everything mapped out. I still have the brochures—I kept them so I would remember what I told people I would do. We would have meetings with my directors where we would go through and check some of them off. Some of them came off the list because I came into the office and realized it was a bad idea. I should say; I realized it wasn't the right place to put resources. Things changed as I learned more, but we really focused on accomplishing what we told people we were going to do. You naively think that people will remember what you told them you were going to do and when you'd tell them you did it, they would applaud. To this day, when I tell people, "We lowered your property taxes three times." They say, "No, my taxes go up every year." I say, "No, your city property taxes were lowered three times." Nobody remembers and nobody believes it, but it was important to me and, I hope, to our team that we did what we told people we were going to do. 21 ROH: What was your reaction to winning your first campaign? MG: I was surprised. My wife and I worked really hard up until the last day and did everything we knew we could do. Bob Hunter came over to my house the morning of the election. He gave us flowers and said it had been great to run against us. He was a real gentleman. He said, "If you win, I'll be your biggest supporter." I thanked him. After he left, I said to my wife, "Not only has he outspent and he's everywhere, he's now out-classed us!" We went out to breakfast after that and we've actually made it a tradition that every four years on the Tuesday of elections, we go out to breakfast as a family. As you wait, it's a very anxious day. It was a fun evening that night at my house. Bob had rented the Radisson Hotel and had a fancy shindig there across from the city offices. It wasn't as advanced then as it is now—at that time you had to have somebody there at the recorder's office in order to relay information. I had someone down at the office getting the tallies and we were calling him and getting updates. As the results came in precinct by precinct, I think we won every single precinct. There may have been one or two we didn't win, and we only barely won each precinct, but one after another we won almost all of them. I think it was down to the second or third to the last when I did the math and realized we had won, there was no way he could beat us. It was surreal. I don't think anyone in the room thought it was going to happen. That's the moment when you give your wife a hug and kiss and say, "Now what do we do?" We needed to go and shake Bob's hand and thank the community, so when the results were in, we went down to city hall. They were relaying the data 22 from the old council chambers and it couldn't have been a colder reception by everybody. We all felt so awkward when we went in. There were a few token congratulations, but mostly it was really gloomy and we felt like complete outsiders. Bob was gracious and we thanked him. He reiterated his promise to be our biggest supporter. He is a very close friend and ally. I have appreciated that and really respect him. We left soon after because it was so uncomfortable that night. I think most everyone there supported Bob and had expected Bob to win and they were worried about the change of the new guy coming into office. I had to sell my business because I wanted to start working for the city right away. I was coming in and meeting with people and trying to get to know what was going on. They were nice enough to give me an office. It was in a corner by the library and had a lot of old books in it. They put a desk in it for me. The mayor did not support me. He was going to remain neutral in the race, but after I won the primary he came out and supported Bob. He was not cordial to me. I had made no bones about my intent to replace two of his main people. I'm sure if a mayoral candidate were saying that about my people, I'd feel the same way. I started work in that little corner and I worked pretty much every day. I met with people and started to form a budget and a plan. I started figuring out who my team was going to be. I went up to Weber State and met with Mike Vaughn, Dick Richards, and Chuck Bailey, some guys from Iomega and other members of the community that I trusted as good business minds in order to figure out, "What do I do? How to I transition this kind of an organization? Do I come in and take it slow or do I come in and make changes right away?" We had 23 a lot of dialogue as a group and laid out a plan, which was to take things slow— to come in and learn the landscape, let people prove themselves, and make changes as they became necessary. We transitioned quickly between November and January when I was thrown into office. The mayor had one meeting where he met with me and it was fascinating because he didn't have a computer on his desk. When I came in, there was not a single file in his desk. I'd asked for the meeting to have him pass along nuggets of wisdom and projects and whatever else he felt like he should pass on to me. It was a very brief meeting. He gave me a handful of suggestions; there was an individual that he said, "Whatever you do, don't fire this person." He said, "Of all the conferences and conventions you should go to, this one is the most valuable." He said a couple more little things and that was it. It wasn't, "Here's what we're working on, here's our strategy, here's the lay of the land…" We really started from scratch. Luckily, the administration stayed. I was so new. I had been here about two months when Christie, who had been his admin and was mine, came in and said, "So, are you keeping me?" I said, "Of course, why would you think not?" She said, "We didn't know if you were keeping me or if we were leaving." I said, "I'm so sorry. It never even crossed my mind." I had no idea that they often change out administrative assistants. She was a phenomenal assistant. Those kinds of things were all new to me, but luckily Christie was there and helped out a lot. The CAO and the economic director both resigned the day I took office; I had said I would replace both of them. I felt that they were not doing a good job, but 24 my intent was to work with them and if they could step it up. We hired Stuart Reid to be the economic director, and brought Nate Pierce up from within the organization to be the CAO. You're inundated when you're new. Everyone wants to meet you and you have a million new best friends. You go through a process where your just trying to figure out what's going on and what's important while you're building your team. It takes time to figure out how to work together as a team. Mecham's style was very different than mine. There were a lot of changes. We put more resources into the police department and into economic development while we were cutting taxes. We had to make significant changes in the organization while we were making those things happen. We tried to ease into them gradually, but from the city's perspective, it was lightening speed and dramatic organizational changes almost overnight. ROH: How would you describe your style? MG: I am very team-oriented. I believe in having a clear vision of where we are headed and what we want to happen, then establishing clear goals and giving people responsibility to make those components happen. I think my role is to make sure there is that vision and then to push the organization, to make sure that they know that we're going to make these things happen. My role changed over the years, depending on who was there. For example, Stuart Reid was a very strong leader and liked to own everything that was in his box. He did not want anyone meddling in economic development, which was too bad because I loved economic development. He wanted complete control and so I just held him 25 accountable for the outcomes and he would deliver. He had his own way of going about it and he wanted to be left alone. On the other hand, our current economic director wants me to participate and comes to me for help. That's Richard McKonkie, a wonderful man who has been the deputy director of economic development in the city for many years. I'm fine adjusting my role depending on what is needed. Some departments do everything on their own and as long as they're producing their outcomes, that's all I care about. It's been fun to see the changes in the organization and how my work has changed. ROH: How many terms have you been mayor? MG: Three. I'll be finishing up twelve years as mayor. I've been here longer now than anybody except Lorrin Farr, who was the first mayor of Ogden. He didn't actually have elections. He was appointed and once a year at church he was sustained as mayor. He went to serve a mission and another mayor came in and Lorrin Farr came back after his mission and served a few more years. I think he served twenty-three years as mayor. He had quite a different environment. ROH: Who appointed him? The church? MG: Yes, basically. When they settled the territory, people were given assignments to go and settle different areas and fill different roles. ROH: How would you summarize your first term? MG: It was hard. The council relationship was really difficult. I was, obviously, brand new to politics and leading an organization of this size. City government was very different from the private sector. I knew it would be challenging, but in my first meeting with the chair of the city council, he told me that his relationship with 26 Mayor Mecham was terrible, that the council hated Mayor Mecham and Mayor Mecham hated the council until the last two years. He said, "The mayor learned he had to come to us and listen to us and once he figured that out, it was fine." I went back after this meeting and my staff said, "Don't you dare do what that arrogant bugger is telling you to do." I also knew that Mayor Mecham had serious health problems in those last two years and he wasn't working as much, so maybe that made him easier to get along with. I took my staff's advice and tried to be cordial and work with the council, but the chair would chew me out for not going to him about things. I said, "I have advisors and they are the people advising me on things. That is not your role." It was a difficult relationship for a few years. In hindsight, I wonder what would have happened if I'd gone to him and said, "Sure, I'd love to partner with you." If I'd made them feel included and a part of things, I wonder if it would have calmed the waters. I would love a chance to go back and try to change that dynamic. It was really hard to get projects through. It was an ambitious agenda. We wanted to recruit 2,000 jobs to the downtown, 2,000 people living in the downtown area, and the last one I think was 200,000 square feet of new retail, office, and entertainment in the downtown area. That was hard because there hadn't been new housing in the downtown area in over 120 years and the businesses were leaving. From the time I was elected to the time I took office— Nordstrom had already left, J.C. Penny announced they were leaving and Mier Frank announced they were leaving. I thought we were going to be rehabilitating this mall and it emptied out within days of my taking office. That was challenging 27 because the community loved that mall and preferred it to the Newgate Mall. The community wanted Nordstrom and J.C. Penny and Bon Marche back. I can't tell you how many times I heard that. Well, we tried. Nordstrom was livid with Ogden because they had tried to stay and when they had come out for a trip, apparently they had a meeting scheduled with the former mayor and his economic development director and Nordstrom got blown off. The economic development director was skiing and the mayor wasn't available to meet with them—and it was literally one of the Nordstrom family members there for the meeting. After getting blown off, Nordstrom said, "We're done." They wanted their space rehabilitated, they wanted their entrance re-done, and they wanted to know there was a commitment to seeing the mall flourish. Apparently, the owner of the mall had died or gone bankrupt and so Nordstrom was coming to make sure the city was monetarily committed to the mall, but the city blew them off and they said, "We're out of here." That started the chain of events where all the anchor tenants vacated the mall. We met with Mier and Frank several times. We flew back east to see them. It didn't work out. The feeling was, "This mall is never going to work. You're going to have to tear it down." We told the community that all the developers were saying the mall had to be torn down and the universal response from the community was, "It's a beautiful mall and it's only twenty years old, you can't tear it down." We were saying, "Nobody wants it. If we want a unique retail and entertainment center, we're going to have to tear it down." The community was 28 angry, understandably so. They didn't understand why we had to put money into this and why we couldn't just get Nordstrom to come back. We announced the river project, which was a sixty-acre development project on both sides of the Ogden River that we wanted to start. That meant we were going to have to be buying homes. When creating an RDA at that time, we had the ability to use eminent domain to acquire those properties. People were livid. It barely passed in the council. It was very difficult and was controversial. There were always huge groups of opposition when we did these projects. We did several projects on 25th Street, like the five-acre parcel that had been empty for forty years that we wanted to rebuild. Many members of the council and much of the community wanted to do this stuff for free and nobody wanted any risk. It doesn't work that way. It's our town and we need to invest in our own community. It was very challenging. We didn't have any money, so we had to be really creative in how we moved forward whether it was rebuilding the mall, developing the river project, or redeveloping 25th Street. Wall Avenue was a disaster, there were two different salvage yards in that area—our central business district had two salvage yards. We had to get those out of here and buy up property. ROH: How did you manage that? MG: We were very creative in finding little pockets of money. One of them was the IRS building, when we came into office, the IRS was reported to have been looking around for a place to build a new campus; their buildings were old and non-functional. I was thrilled when I heard about it. As soon as I hired Stuart Reid, I said, "Stuart, here's a contact. Our guy has been working on it. Will you 29 call the IRS and tell them that we'd like them to move downtown." They had already looked at downtown and said nothing suited their needs there. Well, Stuart and his guys found two administrative orders signed by the president; one said if there's downtown space available, then they needed to occupy it; the second said that they had to use a historic building if one was available. We found a historic building in downtown and took it to the IRS and said, "You have to come. Here's a site. It's downtown and a historic building we want you to use." They said, "No, we're not going to do it." I wasn't in the meeting, but it was reported back to me that the IRS was told, "You will do it or we will sue you for not following your own rules." Can you imagine doing that to the IRS? So, kicking and screaming they came. We purchased the property and sold it to a developer and we actually made a little money in the deal. Those early projects were critical to revitalizing the downtown area. It gave us a story to take to other people, "Look at this, here's a new development on 25th street and here are these new buildings downtown and all these new jobs coming to the area." Little by little we would build on the success and get people to come. Virtually every time we had to come up with some creative incentive to make these things come together. People will never appreciate how challenging it was. In fact, the development director came in one day and he said, "Do you see my hands?" They were all red. I said, "What's going on?" He said, "I'm losing the skin off of my fingers. This is so stressful. I can't sleep at night because I'm trying to figure out how to bring these things together and now I'm literally losing the skin off my body because of the stress." 30 We had a city council member who sort of had this constant theme of, "I'm supportive of the project. I just don't think we should be funding it. If it's such a great idea, the private sector should do it." It was like, "Where is a decayed downtown where the city just steps aside and the private sector just comes in and solves all the problems? I want to see the economic model where that has ever worked." It hasn't. Cities have to jump in and take part. We heard that all the time and it was like their justification not to participate. One council member had her daughter going around in the river project handing out fliers that told them what they had to do to stop the project from going forward. It included some kind of lawsuit or legal action that they could take against the city. I understood voting against it, but why in the world would a city council be acting against it? She too supported the project; she just didn't think the city should fund it. We kept asking her how to fund it without the city taking the primary role, and of course she had no suggestions. Apparently, it was just that the way we were doing it was wrong and there was surely a better way to do it but she didn't have any idea what it was. The same thing happened with The Junction. The same city council member opposed it. Mary Hall was the biggest opponent to all the things we were trying to do. It took about a year for us to realize we had to tear down the mall—it was about 2001 when we realized we had to take it down. We were talking about it all through 2000 and I think we finally got it down before the Olympics. We had to create some anchors and draws for the Junction. There were three key pieces to make the Junction work. One was the Tree House, 31 which eventually got put together but was so hard. The Tree House was one, the second was the Salomon Center, and the third was the movie theater. I got several phone calls saying the Tree House wasn't going to come, but they hung in there through great difficulty and eventually they did. That piece came together and the next was working with Larry Miller. There's a huge story behind that, but Larry Miller finally decided to build theaters in the downtown area just to help out the community here. Larry asked me if he would make money if he built the theaters in Ogden. I told him I didn't know if he was going to make money but commented, "We need you to come and do it because you have the Midas touch. If you come to downtown Ogden and build this theater, I'm convinced that the rest of the mall will come together and the downtown area will revitalize." That's turned out to be the case and he's made money. He's been very pleased. He told me that before he passed away. They agreed to come in if we got the Salomon Center. Tree House was already moving forward, expecting that we were going to do the rest of it. The Salomon Center was tough because the private sector wasn't going to do it unless the city was committed. We ended up having to be the owner of the property. We got a lease from two different entities that were going to run it. One was the Gold's Gym who also runs the Flow Rider, iRock and iFly. The second was the Fat Cats, which includes Costa Vida and the Pizza Factory. They agreed to lease the building from the city and we were using tax increment to fund about half of the construction cost. Once again, we had people saying, "This is never going to work. You're crazy. You're going to bankrupt the city. If this is such a 32 good idea, why wouldn't the private sector do it on their own?" We heard it over and over. I was sued personally as well as in my capacity as mayor. I had to hire a personal attorney out of my pocket because they sued me as a candidate and the city couldn't cover my attorney costs. ROH: Citizens of Ogden? MG: Some were citizens of Ogden, a lot were not. Dorothy Littral sued me and ended up losing. The judge ordered her to pay my attorney's fees. Those were dark days. There was a petition drive going on to stop the Salomon Center. If they got a certain number of signatures they could get it on the ballot and we knew this was going to be a tough project to explain to voters. This was a blue-collar community and it was not lost on any of us that going out to these sixty and seventy year old retired Hill Field and railroad workers and say, "We need to build a center that has indoor skydiving and it's going to be good for you. You need this." We knew it was a tough sell, but we also knew we needed to do something unique that would have a regional draw. It was going to be impossible to communicate in a way that our demographic was going to grasp. A referendum was going to be challenging. I went home one day and said, "Monica, if they get the signatures, we're done. We won't get the Center, which means we won't get the theater. Nobody is going to come to our town if we've got twenty-acres of city center sitting fallow." We barely had four votes on the council. I asked Monica if it was okay if I used personal money to make fliers and spread them out. The city couldn't use money to tell people not to sign the petition. After work, I would go home and print fliers 33 and deliver them. My wife was so awesome. She would go to the places that were allowing people to set up booths to sign a petition and she would go to the owner of the place with a flier and explain to them why it was so bad to have people signing the petition. She called me one day just sobbing because she'd explained it to a store owner and he was not very nice about it. People in line to sign the petition had been very rude. I felt so terrible—here I am making my wife go out and do the dirty work for what the city needed. ROH: What year was this? MG: It would have been 2005. Those were really dark times. If the Junction didn't happen, the town was done. It was hard to come up with an optimistic vision of what might happen if the Junction didn't get built. Luckily they lost their lawsuits and didn't get enough signatures on their petitions. We barely got enough votes to get it through. One of the former council members came and spoke at the meeting the night of the last vote to get the Salomon Center moving forward. She said to the council, "You know better." I'll never forget her words and her fervor. She said, "You guys are smarter than this and you know better than to approve this." It was a 4-3 vote, barely passing. A couple of them lost their seat because of that vote. That night, there were several that were claiming that Larry Miller wasn't going to build a theater and that it was all a farce and this was all going to collapse like a house of cards and we were indebting our citizens. We knew it was a huge gamble, but we knew that anything less was sure to fail. We needed to do something big enough to show that this was a new Ogden and a new vision 34 for the community. We didn't know if it was going to work. We had done our research, but none of these things had been built in a community our size before. We knew it was a roll of the dice, but we were obviously thrilled a year later when it was successful. Even now, in this recession, they have done remarkably well. ROH: What about the economic development along 25th Street? It's doing so much better. MG: Luckily, we had some great anchored tenants on 25th Street and unlike the rest of downtown, we weren't working from scratch. We had Roosters and Great Harvest that were doing great. MG: [Addition submitted by Matthew Godfrey] I believe the year was 2005. That was a dark time for all of us that were working so hard to turn the city around. It felt like mission impossible and that everything that could go wrong did. The financing was enormously complex and it was challenging to keep all of the players in the project from the private sector engaged because they were taking a big risk and were being bloodied by the CAVE (Citizens Against Virtually Everything) people in the process. I was working long hours and it was highly stressful. What made it bearable were all of the good people that stepped up to help. We had citizens that I hadn't met previously who showed up to support the idea. Dave Hardman from the Chamber of Commerce and Dan Musgrave from Downtown Ogden Inc. rallied their organizations to show up to the city council meetings and show support. I believe the contrast they provided against the negative people helped us get the four votes we needed to move the project forward. We feel gratified that the project worked as we had hoped. The Salomon Center was built, Larry 35 Miller theaters and Boyer built out their portion. The hotel was even completed east of the Salomon Center as we had planned. The Junction has been a catalyst for further redevelopment in downtown and has been the regional attraction we hoped for. I will always be grateful for those people that stepped up when times were hard. My family was always there. My father passed away during my tenure as mayor, I think about him often. My wife has always been and incredible support. I couldn't have asked for anything more than she provided. My parents as well as Monica's parents were equally supportive. My kids took a lot of grief from other kids in school because of the things I did as Mayor and I feel terrible that all these people that I care deeply about had to suffer for what I did at work. Hopefully, we made a difference in the community. We exceeded all of our goals and ended up recruiting over 8,000 jobs, leading the nation in job growth my last year in office. We were also able to recruit over $1.2 billion of private investment, redevelop over 130 acres of downtown with another 80 acres underway. We facilitated the building of well over half a million square feet of office space and in the process lowered crime by over 30 percent. We left Ogden City in a much better financial position then we found it, having established a "rainy day" fund for the first time in the city's history, to my knowledge. We were able to turn the tide on some of the historic housing in downtown that had turned into terrible rentals and recruit home ownership back to the area. We also added significant amounts of open space, new trails, kayak parks and other recreational amenities. We cleaned up the extremely blighted Ogden River 36 and made it the public asset it should have always been. We lowered property taxes three times and never raised them. Along with all of that there were many projects that we weren't able to finish that we really wanted to complete. Connecting Ogden to Snowbasin is a project that needs to happen. It will create the opportunity for Ogden in terms of new high-paying jobs, new tax revenue and retail that wouldn't come in any other way. I'm sure I've studied this issue in more detail than any person on the planet and I'm convinced of the good it will do for Ogden. There were many projects and initiatives we worked on that I regret not being able to finish. The last year or so in office, it felt like the City Council and other members of the community felt like we had done enough. I don't think they understand that if we don't continue to improve our town it will decay. For all of the enormous difficulties of serving as mayor for 12 years, I am grateful for the experience. I hope we have made the Ogden City better for the coming generation.

The present study documents a language educator's reflection on two transitions that mirror current curricular changes in undergraduate language programs in the United States. The first chronicles her personal pedagogical transformation from a general-purposes Spanish language professor and her adjustment to teaching as a visiting professor in a Spanish for Specific Purposes (SSP) language-learning environment at the United States Air Force Academy. The second reports the evolution over several decades of the Spanish language program at University of Alabama at Birmingham from a traditional general Spanish-language program to a multipurpose program. The study suggests that SSP and liberal arts values are not mutually exclusive, and it explores what Spanish for General Purposes (SGP) can learn from SSP. Spanish programs that find common ground and hybridize to respond to multiple demands of today's Spanish learners are likely to be the most successful in the future. ; To cite the digital version, add its Reference URL (found by following the link in the header above the digital file). ; A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 88 The Unexpected Spanish for Specific Purposes Professor: A Tale of Two Institutions Sheri Spaine Long United States Air Force Academy University of Alabama at Birmingham Abstract: The present study documents a language educator's reflection on two transitions that mirror current curricular changes in undergraduate language programs in the United States. The first chronicles her personal pedagogical transformation from a general-purposes Spanish language professor and her adjustment to teaching as a visiting professor in a Spanish for Specific Purposes (SSP) language-learning environment at the United States Air Force Academy. The second reports the evolution over several decades of the Spanish language program at University of Alabama at Birmingham from a traditional general Spanish-language program to a multipurpose program. The study suggests that SSP and liberal arts values are not mutually exclusive, and it explores what Spanish for General Purposes (SGP) can learn from SSP. Spanish programs that find common ground and hybridize to respond to multiple demands of today's Spanish learners are likely to be the most successful in the future. Keywords: language learning curriculum, liberal arts, medical Spanish, military language learning, Spanish for General Purposes (SGP), Spanish instruction, Spanish for Specific Purposes (SSP), United States Air Force Academy, University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB) Introduction This academic year, I dubbed myself the unexpected Spanish for Specific Purposes (SSP) professor because specialized career-focused instruction became part of my pedagogical repertoire. Working in a SSP language-learning environment has made me take stock of what mainstream language educators can gain from exposure to the philosophy and instructional techniques of languages for specific purposes. I am serving currently as Distinguished Visiting Professor of Spanish at the United States Air Force Academy. I am a permanent Professor of Spanish at the University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB). In this reflective paper, I chronicle two transitions. First, I share observations about my transition from general purposes language instruction to the more focused language-learning setting at the United States Air Force Academy. Language learning at the United States Air Force Academy exemplifies the definition of a Spanish for Specific Purposes (SSP) program because it is dedicated to the goal of educating future Air Force officer-leaders with a global perspective. Secondly, I narrate from an administrative/ administrator's point of view UAB's evolution from a traditional Spanish curriculum to a dual-purpose program that includes a SSP certificate. I conclude that both the United States Air Force Academy and UAB Spanish language programs provide unique insights into the curricular changes and challenges in language teaching that have emerged during the last several decades in higher education. My experiences in these respective undergraduate Spanish programs show that signature language curricula have been and can be developed to serve diverse missions of learners and institutions and that intellectual and practical needs simultaneously helped mold these A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 89 programs. The United States Air Force Academy and UAB Spanish language programs are traditional and nontraditional at the same time. I posit they will resemble our future hybridized Spanish language programs. For purposes of this paper, I understand hybridized to mean multipurpose programs that have SSP components and a liberal arts foundation. The subfield of SSP can be defined as a practice that gives language learners access to the Spanish that they need to accomplish their own academic or occupational goals (Sánchez-López, 2013). It is necessary to locate SSP within the domain of Second Language Acquisition (SLA) in order to recognize that SSP is not a departure from current theory or practices in foreign language education. The counterpoint to SSP is Spanish for General Purposes (SGP). SGP is a broad descriptor for the teaching and learning of Spanish in ways that can be exploratory in nature. It is language teaching and learning that is likely not to have a singular career focus. Along with the concept of language learning for cultural breadth, traditionally SGP has been ensconced within the notion of liberal arts education. After almost 20 years of teaching principally undergraduate SGP at UAB, I relocated to Colorado Springs to experience anew the teaching and learning of Spanish in a different context. The learning environment that I envisioned at the service academy would be focused on the specific Air Force mission within undergraduate higher education. By contrast, I am the product of a liberal arts education that was not singularly focused on a specific career. For the last several decades, I have taught students with a variety of goals, both professional and personal. The teaching and learning environment with which I am the most familiar is rooted in the model of a liberal education that has historically framed SGP programs across the United States over the last 75 years. Goals of the liberal arts education include such attributes as thinking critically, possessing broad analytical skills, learning how to learn, thinking independently, seeing all sides of an issue, communicating clearly (orally and in writing), exercising self-control for the sake of broader loyalties, showing self-assurance in leadership ability, and participating in and enjoying (cross-)cultural experience (Blaich, Bost, Chan, & Lynch, 2010). By reviewing some attributes commonly found in definitions of a liberal arts education, I highlight the cornerstone of numerous undergraduate programs in higher education. My goal is not to produce a comprehensive list of its characteristics. In fact, one finds variations in the definition of the liberal arts education tailored to suit institutional realities and needs. The elements that I emphasize in the present discussion are particular characteristics, such as analytical and critical thinking, leadership development, civic responsibility and cultural breadth, which are especially relevant to how these two Spanish language programs evolved at both the United States Air Force Academy and UAB. Although critical thinking may not be one of the characteristics that spring to mind within military education given the realities of obedience, discipline and hierarchy, critical thinking is an essential characteristic of military officers that must make decisions in complex situations. The teaching/learning of the ability to analyze critically is key in military service academies and in civilian institutions, such as UAB. UAB and arrived at the United States Air Force Academy in summer 2011. Because of the courses that I had been asked to design and teach, I knew that the United States Air Force Academy's curriculum was not about technical instruction as in Spanish for Military Purposes. In fact, my fall courses had mainstream course titles that one might find in any Spanish program: Literature and Film of Spain and Latin American Civilization and Culture. My military supervisors told me that I was invited here to bring a different perspective and pedagogy into the classroom. As my first semester unfolded, I set out to learn from diverse A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 90 pupils and faculty members and to absorb and adapt to the differences before me. The United States Air Force Academy's mission fits neatly on a sign that everyone reads upon entering the military installation: "Developing Leaders of Character." The United States Air Force Academy (2011) is an undergraduate institution, awarding the BS degree as part of its mission to inspire and develop officers with knowledge, character and discipline. Undergraduates are referred to as cadets, and this underscores both the military and academic focus of the learners. After a few weeks at the United States Air Force Academy, I realized that I had landed in a one-of-a-kind educational setting. The institution subscribes to and emphasizes many of the key core values that I associate with a liberal arts education while additionally providing technical training. As Pennington (2012) pointed out in her recent commentary in The Chronicle of Higher Education, we need to acknowledge that preparing for work and pursuing a liberal arts education are not mutually exclusive. Considering liberal arts principles and professional training as polar opposites is a deeply ingrained notion by many individuals in higher education and in society at large. This belief needs to change because of the type of complex preparation that today's students will need to flourish in the future. Below is the complete list of shared outcomes of the Unites States Air Force Academy. Even with a cursory examination, one finds intertwined traditional liberals arts concepts and elements associated with technical education for engineers, scientists and warriors: Shared United States Air Force Academy Outcomes (2011) Commission leaders of character who embody the Air Force core values. . . . . .committed to Societal, Professional, and Individual Responsibilities  Ethical Reasoning and Action  Respect for Human Dignity  Service to the Nation  Lifelong Development and Contributions  Intercultural Competence and Involvement . . .empowered by integrated Intellectual and Warrior Skills  Quantitative and Information Literacy  Oral and Written Communication  Critical Thinking  Decision Making  Stamina  Courage  Discipline  Teamwork . . .grounded in essential Knowledge of the Profession of Arms and the Human & Physical Worlds  Heritage and Application of Air, Space, and Cyberspace Power  National Security and Full Spectrum of Joint and Coalition Warfare A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 91  Civic, Cultural and International Environments  Ethics and the Foundations of Character  Principles of Science and the Scientific Method  Principles of Engineering and the Application of Technology Source: http://www.usafa.edu/df/usafaoutcomes.cfm?catname=Dean%20of%20Faculty Values such as critical thinking, ethics and ethical reasoning, respect for human dignity, lifelong development and contributions, intercultural competence, and oral and written communication are integral to a liberal arts education and are the foundation of cadet education. The first phrase that frames the entire list—"Commission leaders of character who embody the Air Force core values. . ."—is key to my contention that the United States Air Force Academy's type of SSP is the teaching and learning of languages in the broader context of leadership education. The direct relationship between what one associates with well-informed leaders and liberal arts values emphasizes the importance of nurturing future leaders (whether cadets or college students) that are civically and globally astute. Leadership development clearly underpins both liberal arts values and those of the United States Air Force Academy. Like many undergraduate institutions in the United States, Spanish is widely taught at the United States Air Force Academy. According to Diane K. Johnson, an institutional statistician, there are a total of more than 500 cadets (out of a total cadet enrollment of over 4,000) that are in Spanish classes (introductory through advanced) in spring semester 2012. There are also cadets enrolled in 7 other languages that are labeled strategic or enduring. Notably, there is no language major at the United States Air Force Academy. However, there is a Foreign Area Studies major. Also, cadets can declare a minor in a language. There were 327 cadets with minor in languages at the time of this spring semester 2012 snapshot. The specific mission statement of the United States Air Force Academy's Department of Foreign Languages is: "To develop leaders of character with a global perspective through world-class language and culture education." Language and culture are embedded in the concept of the kind of global perspective that a 21st-century leader must possess. From Washington DC to Wall Street, there is agreement that future leaders internationally—both military and civilian—need to be multilingual and culturally adept to be able to navigate and lead in the 21st century (Education for global leadership, 2006). According to Lt. Col. Western (2011), it is imperative that our military comprehend that maintaining world leadership and security requires a broad understanding of other languages, cultures and thought processes. Although the Department of Defense's report (2012) on "Sustaining United States Global Leadership: Priorities for 21st Century Defense" does not directly address language and cultural expertise, many of theses priorities rely on knowledge from military leaders with considerable language and cultural acumen. Historically, the language department has always had a dual purpose that has consisted of SSP focusing on developing future Air Force officers, while providing many elements of a liberal arts education. From the following list, you will see a sampling of the generic course titles. They are not a departure from what one might find at other institutions: Basic Spanish I & Basic Spanish II (Spanish 131–132), Intermediate Spanish A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 92 I & Intermediate Spanish II (Spanish 221–222), Advanced Spanish I & Advanced Spanish II (Spanish 321–322), Civilization and Culture (Spanish 365), Current Events in the Spanish-Speaking World (Spanish 371), Introduction to Peninsular Literature (Spanish 376), Introduction to Latin American Literature (Spanish 377), Advanced Spanish Readings (Spanish 491), and Special Topics (Spanish 495). The course titles do not offer clues as to how these classes might differ from the average civilian college or university classes with similar names. In my experience teaching and/or observing these classes, differences do stand out because language learners at the United States Air Force Academy focus on application of language as a skill combined with cultural and historical knowledge. The cadets also seek intellectual breadth through the analysis of multiple perspectives particularly found in intermediate- to upper-level Spanish language classes. In the first six months in residence at the United States Air Force Academy, I observed that cadets are more intellectually broad than I assumed at the outset. Cadets read about literature and culture, analyzed film, and even wrote poetry in Spanish with gusto. They do perform in the classroom with a defined career in mind. The focus on the military profession and leadership changes the daily routine in the language classroom. By emphasizing deliberate leadership and language teaching and/or learning opportunities, crosspollination enhances the classroom exper-ience and improves institutional learning outcomes. Form cannot be divorced from function in language learning, so the synthesis of leadership development and language/cultural learning occurs. Recent studies from interdisciplinary research with the neurosciences and education show that fusion between disciplines can provide effective pathways to learning (Coyle, Hood, & Marsh, 2010). Teaching Spanish at the United States Air Force Academy altered my preparations and delivery. Because of SSP, I adapted to differences that are administrative, operational, pedagogical, experiential and conceptual. First, I experienced the surface-level administrative transformations from SGP to the special brand of SSP at this institution. I learned about:  Classroom rituals that include military protocols, such as calling the class to attention in Spanish, inspecting students' regulation dress and upholding other classroom standards in the target language;  References to Air Force traditions and military rank in the target language;  And, lock down, active shooter and natural disaster drills that might happen during class time in the target language. Additionally, there were different details in course design that reshaped my pedagogical filter. During an examination of all Spanish language course syllabi at the United States Air Force Academy, I noticed that the communities standard from the 5Cs in the Standards for Foreign Language Learning (1999) is often replaced with a different C that stands for Careers. The focus on the professional use of Spanish is starkly emphasized through this substitution. On an operational level in the classroom, staying abreast of current events in the Spanish-speaking world and being able to interpret them—such as changes in government officials, political and economic transitions in the target culture—take on greater importance while teaching at the United States Air Force Academy. For example, when A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 93 learners know that they might be assigned to carry out tasks in any Latin American country in the future, the learners understandably pay more attention to geographical details, how economic conditions impact political situations, how longstanding historical realities affect the current mood, and so on. The language-learning environment carries with it a cachet of practical information, and it also supplies complex situations and problem-solving scenarios on which future Air Force decision makers can cut their teeth. Language practice includes creating a number of hypothetical SSP situations in which cadets participate in order to foreshadow their leadership roles, such as role-play opportunities that are relevant to Air Force operations. For example, cadets might be asked what they would do and say as a United States Air Attaché or an intelligence officer stationed in Latin America. On the conceptual level, I am currently organizing and creating a seminar that is titled War in the Arts, Literature and Film in Spain and Latin America. It is a themed-humanities seminar that offers a rich lexical environment and an opportunity to focus on the profession of war, ethics, conflict and peacekeeping in the context of film, art and print texts of the Spanish-speaking world. Considering, for example, the representation of the warrior in a literary work provides an opportunity to discuss ethics and strategies and to analyze the representation of leaders across cultures. At the United States Air Force Academy, I have participated in preparing cadets to go on semester-long exchanges to foreign military academies. Some of this is done through wayside teaching at our Spanish conversation table, emphasizing the type of current and relevant social, linguistic, and cultural information that a cadet might need to function abroad in a variety of contexts and represent the United States. One way to prepare for going abroad has been to encourage and mentor cadets to volunteer for selection to host visiting military dignitaries, such as ranking delegations from the Colombian and Mexican Air Force. To prepare cadets, instructors share with them tips about how to interact appropriately and to display leadership through social intelligence and knowledge of protocol in the target language and culture. As a follow up, debriefing after these events is essential to discuss perceptions and observations and to develop cross-cultural competence. Much like teaching and interacting with SGP students, there are immediate needs, and then, there is the important long-range goal of encouraging life-long learning in Spanish. In the context of the United States Air Force, there are programs that make this objective more concrete than what is generally experienced by students in civilian colleges and universities. To take advantage of what the Air Force has to offer, I have also learned about LEAP (Language Enabled Airman Program), which provides for structured life-long language learning for specific purposes in the Air Force. According to the Air Force Culture and Language Center ("Air force culture," 2012), LEAP is designed to sustain, enhance and utilize the existing language skills and talents of Airmen in the program. The stated goal of LEAP is to develop a core group of Airmen across specialties and careers possessing the capability to communicate in one or more foreign languages. To become a participant in LEAP, Airmen must already possess moderate to high levels of proficiency in a foreign language. Individuals that apply and are accepted into the LEAP program receive regular training both face to face and online in the target language as well as have immersion opportunities at intervals during their careers. Working to encourage and help cadets apply for LEAP is another SSP goal at the United States Air Force. A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 94 These are an overview of my unexpected SSP experiences at the Air Force Academy. My transformation from SGP to SSP started with learning and applying new vocabulary that focuses on cadets' professional needs. Later, I began to think of my learners as future leaders that will need to perform and apply knowledge to make judgments about the Spanish-speaking individuals and groups. This motivated me to reorganize courses and reconceive of them with a keener eye toward performance and to explore ways to get cadets to think beyond their immediate milieu. With the overlay of leadership development and military culture, this teaching experience has driven me to operate in a more interdisciplinary fashion than before. I experienced first hand a teaching and learning climate that offers a unique hybrid of liberal arts and technical education in a military context. Perhaps the best lesson that SSP teaches is to constantly question the relevance of what you are doing in the classroom: to whom is it relevant and for what purpose? Within the Department of Foreign Languages at the United States Air Force Academy, the SSP focus on career preparation in language instruction and the liberal arts connection with leadership evolved simultaneously. This dual focus of the curriculum contrasts the reality in most civilian language departments where there was one general focus and departments are being (or have been retrofitted) to include new curricula and/or tracks. Many civilian language departments are currently transitioning from SGP programs and integrating more SSP language options. In the late 1980s and on into the 1990s, Spanish for Business and Medical Spanish courses appeared. The integration of professional courses happened in response to societal needs (Doyle, 2010). The Department of Foreign Languages at the United States Air Force Academy offers a rare, fully integrated model of the curricular common ground of career-focused language learning with an underpinning of liberal arts breadth. Conversely, civilian language programs have transitioned to dual-purpose or multipurpose programs for different reasons. In many cases, motives for transitioning programs have been to maintain relevance and enrollments. The latter was clearly the case with the Spanish language program at UAB in the 1990s. This two-fold reality raises the palpable issue of how best to organize these dual-purpose programs from both a curricular and an administrative point of view. Undergraduate language departments and programs have to meet the needs of both their general and specific constituencies. There is a general consensus in the language discipline that multiple paths to the language major, as advocated by the Modern Language Association in the report "Foreign Languages and Higher Education: New Structures for a Changed World" (2007), will be a necessity for the future survival of undergraduate language programs. With curricular reform underway, how do traditional language programs best transition from general purposes programs to hybridized programs that also house languages for specific purposes? Another obvious driver of dual-purpose Spanish language programs is the limited support for language teaching and learning. As programs transform, we need to be mindful of the realities that face most undergraduate language programs: 1) limited financial resources to support language programs, 2) staffing limitations because of faculty back-ground and adaptability, 3) reward systems that favor faculty members who work in the more established subdisciplines in the language field, and 4) multifoci and/or shifting interests of undergraduate students. Because of these conditions, exploring ways that resources can be shared intentionally and constructively will be essential to benefit general A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 95 and specific purposes language programs at the same time. The UAB Spanish language program learned to share resources and evolved into a multipurpose program. The UAB Spanish language program transitioned from SGP to include SSP gradually over several decades. This transformation aligns the department with the institution's vision and mission, which is outlined below: The UAB Vision UAB's vision is to be an internationally renowned research university—a first choice for education and health care. The UAB Mission UAB's mission is to be a research university and academic health center that dis- covers, teaches and applies knowledge for the intellectual, cultural, social and eco- nomic benefit of Birmingham, the state and beyond. Source: http://www.uab.edu/plan/ Reflecting the mission and vision at UAB, these statements clearly present the dual role of the institution: it is both medical and educational. When I joined the faculty 20 years ago, we spoke of the medical side and the academic side of campus in a way that implied a scant relationship between the two. Therefore, the undergraduate curriculum in the language department in the early years of my appointment had no relationship with the health sciences. This separation slowly eroded over the years. When I was hired in 1992, the curriculum for the UAB undergraduate language major would best be described as traditional: language and literature. UAB students studied languages for a variety of reasons, ranging from enrichment to the fulfillment of the compulsory language requirement. We had a multiquarter language requirement that was rescinded in the mid-1990s as a result of the politics between the state's community colleges and the universities. Currently, UAB has no foreign language requirement. Almost 650 students were enrolled in Spanish in spring 2012 out of an undergraduate population of close to 12,000 students ("UAB student profile," 2011). Ironically, the lack of a language requirement in the undergraduate curriculum set the department on a path toward popularizing SSP. At that time, the UAB Department of Foreign Languages and Literatures began to turn its attention to providing courses that the students demanded. As a result in the mid-1990s, UAB offered its first medical Spanish classes for undergraduate students. From that time on, I became interested increasingly in SSP for reasons that had to do with the institution's human capital both faculty and student. Also from 2002–2009, I served as chairperson of the UAB Department of Foreign Languages and Literatures. I took an administrator's interest in growing and integrating a SSP program into the existing general Spanish program. The medical Spanish courses were a good match for the interests of our student body. Approximately 40% of the freshmen that enroll at UAB declare that they are on the premedicine track. Many students are attracted to our campus because UAB houses an internationally known School of Medicine, although many freshmen abandon the premedicine track for other health-related fields. A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 96 Student interest grew in professionally focused language courses and key faculty members invested in SSP as well. In 2001, our first applied linguist in Spanish was hired in the language department. She shared her vision of starting a SSP program by offering a few courses to appeal to pre-professionals. She became the director of the nascent SSP program. Over the years, the SSP program became so popular that it evolved into a more defined and elaborate SSP certificate program ("UAB Spanish for specific purposes program," 2012) that had 62 students enrolled in the program in spring 2012. It was the first undergraduate certificate program on the UAB campus. As the program grew, the SSP Director was successful in convincing existing junior faculty to take professional development seminars in SSP and develop additional SSP courses, such as Intermediate Spanish for the Professions, Advanced Business Spanish and Advanced Spanish for Health Professionals. In 2007, we hired a Spanish instructor to develop and expand the medical Spanish courses in the undergraduate curriculum under the umbrella of SSP. She began to collaborate with the Schools of Nursing, Medicine, and Dentistry to provide short courses to their graduate students. Over time, signs of curricular integration increased between the medical and academic sides of campus. Also, there was a confluence of external events in the state of Alabama and internal events on the UAB campus that occurred in the late 1990s and the first decade of the 21st century that promoted the success of the SSP program. Prior to the 2007 recession, a rapidly growing Spanish-speaking population in Alabama had health professionals in a reactive mode because they were not prepared to handle patients that spoke limited English ("Demographic profile of Hispanics in Alabama," 2012). In 2005, UAB hosted campus-wide events around its first freshmen discussion book The Spirit Catches you and you Fall Down: A Hmong Child, her American Doctors and the Collision of two Cultures by Ann Fadiman (1997). The book was widely read across campus, especially in the School of Medicine. Fadiman's volume chronicled Hmong (not Spanish) speakers. Nevertheless, the book captured the timely problem of the critical need for communication with the foreign born in the health professions. From that year on, the importance of cross-cultural communication became part of the UAB campus dialogue. Also around this time, UAB's prominent, grant-funded Minority Health and Research Center unofficially broadened its definition of minority to include Latinos. Meanwhile, within the UAB Department of Foreign Languages and Literatures we were able to offer our first scholarship award for a Spanish major on the premedicine track in 2003. Beginning in 2003, I recall anecdotally receiving periodic inquiries from ranking individuals in the School of Medicine that wanted to collaborate. Typically, they requested the assistance of Spanish-speaking faculty with informed-consent forms. There were repeated requests for help with interpretation until the UAB clinics developed protocols to deal with Spanish-language only patients. In January 2010, we piloted a short course in Spanish (Davidson & Long, 2012) that was offered as part of the medical school elective curriculum. In 2002, the staff of the language department informally observed a trend in the increase of undergraduate students who declared a double major in Spanish and Biology/Chemistry. I procured a modest donation from a local physician for the aforementioned scholarship. All of these events fueled the popularity of the UAB SSP program and clearly defined the need for it. The current SSP program and certificate houses a number of preprofessional courses that are not limited exclusively to SSP students. The full program description can A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 97 be viewed at http://www.uab.edu/languages/languages-programs/ssp. The number of general versus pre-professional students varies from course to course, but courses such as Spanish Translation and Interpretation tend to enroll students from both cohorts, whereas Spanish for the Health Professionals enrolls few general-purposes students. Of course, the faculty members have noticed over time that our student clientele had slowly changed: two very different types of students were sitting in the same classroom. Professionally focused Spanish students and general Spanish students enrolled in the some of the same courses. This presented new pedagogical challenges for our faculty members and raised the issue: how does one meet the needs of both groups (SSP and SGP) in the context of our institution's student body? To date, this matter has not been systematically dealt with in the UAB Spanish Division. Individual professors have developed strategies, like individualizing projects, and yet, other faculty members teach to one group to the exclusion of the other. The curricular changes discussed by the Modern Language Association have come about in many language departments, and they have been welcomed by some faculty members but not by all. Embracing the notion that the traditional liberal arts language learner can cohabitate with the interdisciplinary and/or career-focused language learner (as demonstrated at the United States Air Force Academy) is key. Highlighting the philo-sophical common ground rooted in a liberal arts education is what may be perceived by some individuals as strictly technical training may help ease the transition. The next phase will be to articulate relevant practices for educators and administrators, as well as shared values and outcomes, and to provide models that show transitional programs how to achieve what I would like to call 'constructive hybridity.' I define constructive hybridity as a positive and collective effort to sort out and integrate the best of traditional Spanish language programs with different SSP practices evidencing more focused professional goals. The next task is to define the 'shared canon' between the various tracks in any given Spanish program. Obviously, this is not a one-size-fits-all charge due to different student, societal and institutional needs, but there is foundational work to be done in order to come up with more consensuses. Given my administrative experiences as a faculty member at UAB and my teaching experience at the United States Air Force Academy, I have come to realize that both general and specific missions in Spanish-language learning are not mutually exclusive. In June 2011, I marched off to Colorado to teach and to learn. I have learned that there is a place for time-tested liberal arts values within SSP programs and that hybridized programs (liberal arts and SSP) can be successful and beneficial to the learner. As suggested by the United States Air Force Academy and UAB programs, future programs in Spanish-language instruction will need to focus on our common ground to serve multiple purposes. Thus, I return to the concept that I mentioned at the outset: it is time to think hybrid. Our future undergraduate language programs will have multiple tracks/purposes. This hybridization can be as positive and enriching for both faculty members and language learners as it has been for me during this phase of my career as a language educator. Returning to my own narrative as a committed, career Spanish professor, I have no doubt that, in the future, my newfound SSP instructional acumen and orientation will inform my future general purposes classes and improve them. A TALE OF TWO INSTITUTIONS Scholarship and Teaching on Languages for Specific Purposes (2013) 98 Disclaimer The views expressed in this paper are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of the United States Air Force Academy, the United States Air Force, The Depart-ment of Defense or the United States Government. References Air force culture and language center. (2012, May). Retrieved from http://www.culture.af.mil/leap/index.aspx Blaich, C., Bost, A., Chan, E., & Lynch, R. (2010). Defining liberal arts education. Retrieved from http://www.liberalarts.wabash.edu/storage Coyle, D., Hood, P., & Marsh, D. (2010). Content and language integrated learning (p. 25). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Davidson, L., & Long, S. S. (2012). Medical Spanish for US medical students: A pilot case study. Dimension, 1–13. Retrieved from http://scolt.webnode.com/ Demographic profile of Hispanics in Alabama. (2012). Retrieved from http://www.pewhispanic.org/states/state/al/ Doyle, M. S. (2010). A responsive, integrative Spanish curriculum at UNC Charlotte. Hispania, 93(1), 80–84. Education for global leadership: The importance of international studies and foreign language education for US economic and national security. (2006). Washington, DC: Committee for Economic Development. Fadiman, A. (1997). The spirit catches you and you fall down: A Hmong child, her American doctors, and the collision of two cultures. NY: Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Foreign languages and higher education: new structures for a changed world. (2007) MLA ad hoc committee on foreign languages. Profession published by the Modern Language Association, 2007 (May), 1–11. Pennington, H. (2012, April 13). For student success, stop debating and start improving. The Chronicle of Higher Education, pp. A33–A34. Sánchez-López, L. (2013). Spanish for specific purposes. In C. Chapelle (Ed.), The Encyclopedia of Applied Linguistics. Oxford, UK: Wiley-Blackwell. Standards for foreign language learning in the 21st century. (1999) Lawrence, KS: National Standards in Foreign Language Education Project, Allen Press. Sustaining US global leadership: Priorities for 21st century defense. (2012) Washington DC: Department of Defense. UAB Spanish for specific purposes program. (2012). Retrieved from http://www.uab.edu/languages/ssp UAB Student profile. (2011). Retrieved from http://www.uab.edu/home/about/student-profile-accomplishments United States Air Force Academy curriculum handbook 2011–2012. (2011). USAF Academy, CO: Academy Board. Western, D. J. (2011). How to say 'national security' in 1,100 languages. Air & Space Power Journal, 48–61. Retrieved from http://www.airpower.au.af.mil

Issue 45.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1986. ; Direction and Reconciliation The Prayer of Being Responses to Rape The Key to Spiritual Direction Volume 45 N umber 6 Nov.IDec. 1986 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR REt.IGIOOS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REL~OOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVtEW YOn RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Nov./Dec., 1986 Volume 45 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REviEw FOR REt.tGtOUS; 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 REVtEW FOU REHCmUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindeli Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print~ issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The World Synod of Bishops: The Extraordinary Session of 1985 The Ordinary Session of 1987 Jan Schotte, C.I.C.M. Archbishop Schotte is General Secretary of the World Synod of Bishops. This article is based on his address to the Catholic Press AssOciation Convention, June 7, 1986, the text of which was first published in its The Catholic Journalist, July, 1986, pp. 5-8. ~n this article I will deal with what I have learned, during the past~months since my transfer to the office of Permanent Secretary, about one of the youngest institutions of the Catholic Church, the World Synod of Bishops. When in the course of my remarks I intend also to say a few words about the relationship between the Synod and the media, please accept my contribu-tion as the expressio~n of a deeply held conviction that the media have a major role to play in the mission of the Chm:ch, and especially with regard to the Synod of Bishops. This conviction is based on my experience as a priest and missionary who has been privileged to serve the Gospel of the Lord and his Church in many different functions. I worked with the media as the briefing officer for French-speaking journalists in the 1980 and 1983 Synods of Bishops. In those days, I was somewhat biased in favor 0f media people. Today, as Secretary General of the Synod, I dare to hope that I still carry within me that same favorable bias. I will confine my remarks to.three areas. In the first place, I will share some insight into the preparation, the process and the final product of the Extraordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, held in 1985. 801 802 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 Secondly, I will brief the reader concerning the next Ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops on the theme "Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and the World, Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council," which is scheduled to take place from October 1 through 30, 1987. Finally, I will offer some very tentative comments on the relationship between Synod and media, telling what the Secretary General of the Synod expects from the media, and at the same time expecting to hear from the media professionals, what they expect from the Synod Secretariat. I. The Extraordinary Synod of 1985 The Extraordinary Synod, which received more media attention than any of the previous synods, was first and foremost a Synod of Bishops-- just that, but totally that! What Is the Synod of Bishops? It is not easy to give a brief reply to this question. It becomes especially difficult when the person asking the question expects an answer in terms of civil or political administration. Is it a parliament, a Church senate, a private council of the pope, a mini-ecumenical council? Each of these bodies has some analogy with the Synod, but none is apt to explain the true nature of the Synod. The Synod is explainable only in terms of the interior logic of the Church, from within her structure and her life. Dealing with an ecclesial entity, a juridical-institutional explanation is not sufficient, but it is necessary to have recourse to the notion of the Church as mystery and as communion. The Synod of Bishops has become part of the life of the Catholic Church; we accept its existence as normal, undisputed. From 1967 onwards we have witnessed the synodal assemblies treating topics and arguments of great importance and attracting the attention not only of Catholics but also of many others. The Synod of Bishops has become one of the propulsion centers of the pastoral activity of the Church, introducing into its life the more important reforms called for by Vatican I1. We recall the 1967 Synod which discussed several topics: the basic orienta-tion for the New Code of Canon Law; orientations for the reform of semi-naries; mixed marriages; and institution of the International Theological Commission. The first Extraordinary Synod of 1969 contributed to the clarification of the role of the bishops' conferences their relationship to the Holy See. The Synod of 1971 againdiscussed two fundamental topics: one on the identity of the Catholic priest and the meaning of priestly celibacy; the other on The World Synod of Bishops / 803 social justice. The 1974 Synod was dedicated to the theme of evangeliza-tion. It was followed in 1977 by the Synod on catechesis. The Synod of 198Odiscussed the Christian family. The Synod of 1983 addressed the issue of reconciliation and penance. The Second Extraordinary Synod of 1985 evaluated the implementation and impact of the Second Vatican Council. Truly an impressive list for only twenty years of activity. Such fundamental and vast themes together with their links to the Council and the post-conciliar period suffice to show the growing importance of the Synod of Bishops in the life of the Catholic Church. It is an institution with connotations of universality, agility and topicality, which seeks to fulfill its role as Syn-odos, the "walking together" of bishops for the benefit of the universal Church and all humankind. The Synod of 1985 It is necessary to understand that any .session of the Synod of Bishops is a fruit of the Second Vatican Council, and an expression of collegiality and communion in order to fully grasp the meaning of that special event that was the Second Extraordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, which took place from November 24 through December 8, 1985, on the theme: "The Second Vatican Council on the Twentieth Anniversary of Its Closing." In recent years, the Church has been subjected to surprises: the death of the smiling Pope John Paul I after only thirty-three days in office; the election of the first non'Italian Pope in four centuries; the vitality and charm of Pope John Paul II who travels to all continents and keeps drawing massive crowds of Catholics and non-Catholics alike. In some way, we have become used to such surprises. Despite all this, when John Paul II made his announcement of an extra-ordinary general session of the Synod of Bishops to evaluate the impact of the Second Vatican Council, the Church and the world were not prepared for this new surprise, so much so that immediately a full-blown debate started in the news media about the purpose Of the Synod, about the intentions of the Holy Father, to say nothing about the feasibility, of calling the bishops to Rome with only eleven months of advance notice. Yet this announcement was fully consistent with the personality and style of the Holy Father, and more especially in accord with his deepest faith convictions. It is no secret that John Paul II has a deep sense of his mission, and that he is constantly looking for ways and means to confirm in the faith his brother bishops and the whole people of God. We also know that he attaches great importance to significant gestures and symbols. We have learned that he is not afraid to face reality and tO assess situations with 804 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 utmost lucidity. All these factors taken together would have been sufficient to explain why he deemed it necessary to convene on short notice an Extra-ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, But there is more. John Paul II is a firm believer in the collegiality of the bishops and he is a convinced defender and promoter of the Second,Vatican Council. The Holy Father has always believed and continues to believe in. the Council, not for strategic ~r.easons but for reasons of faith. Vatican II was for him, who participated in all its sessions as a young bishop, an experience which deeply marked .his entire episcopate and pontificate. A faithful analysis of the unwavering support of the Pope ~for the Council seems the only serious and objective method for interpret!~ng the reasons behind the convening of the Second Extraordinary Synod .without falling into the trap of putting the Pope's intentions on trial or of expressing purely subjective judgments. The Pope could not have stated the objectives~of the Synod more clearly: to celebrate,and re-live the extraordinary spirit of the Council; to verify what has been done to implement the Councilteachings; to promote a deeper awareness of the Council and the application of its principles to present and future problems. To look again at the Second Vatican Council and to assess its implemen-tation was, for the bishops at the Synod, a massive program. Yet it was unrealistic to think that the Pope intended to review every single Council document in a comprehensive way within the twelve ~working days that were available. It was equally unlikely that the Holy Father had a further agenda, a hidden one, to throw into reverse the process of renewal initiated by the Council, or to use expressions from certain journalists, "to bury the Council," "to put the brakes on renewal," "to set the clock back," "to roll back the tide," or "to let theprophets of doom back in after they have been banned from the Church by John XXIII." Preparation of the Extraordinary Synod After the surprise announcement by the Holy Father, the General Secretariat of the Synod began immediately the preparation of this unusual event. N,Iy predecessor, the then Archbishop, now Cardinal, Jozef Tomko initiated a series of consultations with a number of bishops and theologians who had participated in all sessions of the Second Vatican Council. Some of those had played a role of primary importance, either as officers of the Council or as participants or experts involved in the drafting of the Council documents. They were asked to react to the three objectives indicated by the Pope and to formulate guidelines for a consultation of all the bishops' conferences. The World Synod of Bishops / 805 The fifteen members of the Council of the General Secretariat were called to Rome for a two-day meeting, March 14-15, 1985, to examine the answers to the preliminary consultation. It was then decided to mail a questionnaire to the patriarchs and metropolitans of the Oriental Churches, to the presidents of bishops' conferences, to the Union of Supefiors General and to the heads of the various departments in the Roman Curia. This questionnaire Went out on April 1, 1985, with a covering letter in which strong emphasis was put on the necessity for a consultation that would reach as many persons and levels of the Local Church as was feasible in so shol~t a time. It was felt that the opinions should be sought not only of the bishops and the experts of the Conference, but also of the priests, religious and laity at large. It was further stressed that the inquiry should try to focus on the major documents of Vatican II, without excluding any of the others. Th6re was no doubt that the debate in the Synod should focus on the nature of the Church and its mission: what is the inner reality of the Church? How does she see herself and, in the light of that perception, how does she organize herself? How does she relate to the complex structures and needs of the world? Such had been the original and genial inspiration of Vatican II itself; any evaluation twenty years later had to concentrate on those same questions. The answers were expected at the General Secretariat by September 1, 1985. However many factors contributed to delays so that the deadline was not respected. The General Secretariat had received only eighteen answers by September I. In the end, however, the result was quite satisfactory: 73.75°70 of the answers'(out of a possible total of 141) were received in time to be incorpo-rated in a summary which reflected the different regional realities, cultures and problems and which~ represented in an objective way the situation of the Church twenty years after the closing of Vatican II. Not every single response to the questionnaire had the same value or authority; some were very detailed while others remained rather schematic; some reflected the thinking of the bishops while 0thersdrew on a large grass-roots response; some had been fully discussed and formulated by the bishops in conference, while others were the work of experts or the secretariat of a conference; some replies reflected rather local concerns while others definitely attempted to see the problems at the level of the Universal Church. All taken together, however, gave a true image of the situation in the Church. I want to share with you a particular observation with regard to this consultation: the formal answers which we received were not the final answers! After the national hierarchies mailed in their submissions, reflection and discussion continued at the level of the single bishop or layperson as well as in the circles of experts, theologians and ecclesial groups or communio 806 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 ties. Many bishops arrived thus at the Synod with different ideas than those expressed in the answers of their respective Conferences. The Final Product The 1985 Synod issued two documents which I am sure you are all familiar with. I feel therefore dispensed from recalling the content of the "Message to the People of God" or of the "Final Report." I only want to clarify a few points. In the media, the fact of the immediate publication of the Final Report was highlighted as an unusual event. Some saw it in terms of a victory of the bisl~ops who wrested this concession from the Pope. The truth of the fact is somewhat different. Every Synod transmits the result of its exchange for consideration to the Holy Father in the form of a report or a list of proposals, or even by entrusting all relevant working papers to the Holy Father, who then decides in what form the results of the Synod will be made public. After the Synods of 1974, 1977 and 1980, the Pope published an "Apostolic Exhortation" in which he presented the results of the Synod. After the 1983 Synod on "Reconciliation and.Penance" however, John Paul II enlisted the collaboration of the bishops elected to the Council of the General Secretariat in preparing a "Post-Synodal Exhortation." During the preparatory phase of the 1985 Extraordinary Synod, many different possibilities for coricluding the Synod had been examined, and the Holy Father did not exclude any, postponing his decision until the Synod had finished its task. When the reports of the small language group~ were presented to the assembly halfway through the proceedings, it became clear that they contained a very rich material, reflecting a large consensus among the participants in evaluating Vatican II's impact and in proposing ways to promote its further implementation. It was then decided to ask the Rappor-teur to .try drafting a final report that would reflect the consensus and the richness of the contributions. This report was debated and finally voted upon. Separate votes were taken on eighteen different sections of the report, and the approval of each one was almost unanimous. In his closing r.emar~s, which followed immediately after the proclamation of the results of the final balloting, the Holy Father stated: Right from the beginning of this Synod, it has appeared clearly how much all those who. were called to participate in it truly shared in its objectives. The results of your work--contained in the "Message" and in the "Final Report"--are witness to your clear-sightedness and your diligent care as well as to your fine ecclesial sense . Therefore, with joy and with sincere gratitude I accept from your hands the "Message" and the "Final Report" which demonstrate this sense of communion: with my consent these docu- The World Synod of Bishops / 807 ments will be rendered public. May the Lord see to it that they bear abundant fruit. It is now your task to ensure that the great force and the awareness of the importance of the Council penetrate deeply into the Universal Church, into your particular churches, and into the various communities. With these words, the Holy Father indicated his approval for the publica-tion of the "Final Report," and manifested at the same time his profound sense of mission and of collegiality. What the "Final Report" makes especially clear is that the Second Vatican Council is the most important event for the Church in the twen-tieth century. The Council offered orientations and answers not only for the questions of the last twenty years, but for the problems of the future as well. The total richness of the documents of the Council, taken together and not separated one from the other, consists in that it explains what the Church is and how she must be Church in the world. The Extraordinary Synod exploded as it were a number of myths which got hold of the minds of many Catholics in the years after Vatican II, and which conditioned the implementation of the Council teaching. Allow me to list just a few. 1. The myth of the primacy of the pastoral over the doctrinal. The "Final Report" affirms: "Special attention must be paid to the four major Consti-tutions of the council, which contain the key for the interpretation of the other Decrees and Declarations. It is not licit to separate the pastoral character from the doctrinal vigor of the documents." 2. The myth of presenting the Vatican Council as a mere historical event, to be left behind as soon as possible in order to work towards Vatican III. The teachings of Vatican II, although looking at the Church and her mission in the light of the prevailing situation, remain valid because they recall funda-mental tenets of the faith and of the Church. 3.The myth of the contradiction between the teachings of Vatican I and Vatican H. The 'Final Report' states: "The Church is one and the same throughout all the Councils." 4. The myth of the preeminence of the spirit over the letter of the Council. The "Final Report" affirms: "It is not legitimate to separate the spirit and the letter of the Council." 5. The myth that pluralism in doctrine o f faith is the way of the future. The "Final Report" states: "The pluralism of fundamentally opposed posi-tions., leads to dissolution, destruction and the loss of identity." 6. The myth that human development is to be promoted without reference to the mystery of the Chu, rch. The "Final Report" says: "It is. necessary to put aside the false and useless opposition between the Church's spiritual mission and diaconia for the world." 81)8 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 7. The myth that any meeting of the world episcopate dissolves auto-matically into opposing camps of North versus South, of East versus West, of liberals versus conservatives. The openness of the debates and the fraternal spirit that was evident from the very first days of the Synod made manifest that there was complete unity. 8. The myth of the intended "'restoration, "" The Bishops affirmed: "The Synod has been for us an occasion which has allowed us once again to experience communion in the one Spirit, in the one faith and hope, and in the one Catholic Church, as well as in the unanimous will to translate the Council into the practice and the life of the Church." We leave to history the final assessment of the Extraordinary Synod of 1985. However it is not presumptuous to state that it was, in many ways, a truly extraordinary event in the life of the Church. The Ordinary Synod on the Laity, 1987 The Synod of Bishops reconvenes in 1987, in ordinary general session, to discuss the "'Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council." Inevitably the bishops will return yet again to consider the nature of the Church and the responsibility of all baptized for her mission and ministry. The 1985 Extraordinary Synod has provided us with the right theological context in which to prepare for the Synod on the Laity. As you know, the Synod on the Laity was originally scheduled for 1986, The announcement by the Holy Father of an Extraordinary General Session of the Synod in 1985 made it advisable to postpone by one year the con-vening of the Synod on'the Laity. In so doing, the Holy Father acceded to a suggestion that was made by the many bishops' conferences who feared not to have sufficient time for a thorough preparation and consultation with the laity. The deadline for the submission to the Synod Secretariat of con-tributions by the bishops' conferences was therefore extended by six months to May 1, 1986. Not the First Synod on the Laity? The coming Ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops will not be the first that deals with the laity. A simple enumeration of the arguments discussed at the past Synods readily demonstrates the continuing and signi-ficant attention which the Synods have devoted to th& theme of the laity. Thus we had the 1971 Synod with its double theme of "Justice in the World" and the "Ministerial Priesthood." Both topics had a particular relevance for the laity: the first in that it touched upon the role of the Church in society--a privileged field of activity for the Christian laity, and the second The World Synod of Bishops / 809 which explored the ministerial priesthood in its connection also with the common priesthood of all the faithful. The 1974 Synod on "Evangelization" recognized and explicitly promoted the specific mission of the laity. It stated: "Lay people, whose particular vocation places them in the midst of the world and in charge of the most varied temporal tasks, must for this very reason exercise a very special form of evangelization." While the 1977 Synod on "Catechesis" stimulated further appreciation of the role of the laity, especially with regard to youth, even more so did the 1980 Synod in its presentation of the Christian family as the primary and basic form of secular vocation and mission in the Church. Finally, the Synod of 1983 recognized and promoted the task of lay people in the work of Christian reconciliation, which finds expression not only within the ecclesial community but also within human society. Reconciliation is not only a personal challenge for each Christian, but a corporate task for the laity. This summary listing of the topics of the Synods amply demo0strates how the Church, through one of her more important institutions, has taken to heart the deepening of her understanding of the vocation and mission of the laity. It could not have been different, since it was one of the major thrusts of the Second Vatican Council to enhance and promote the partici-pation of the laity in the mission of the Church for the salvation of the world. How Was the Theme for the 1987 Synod Chosen? After twenty years of existence, the Synod of Bishops has developed its own procedures and methods, which are all specifically "synodal." This applies also to the selection of a theme for the Synod. At every Ordinary Synod, towards the end of the proceedings, an open debate is organized on possible themes for the next Synod. The Synod Fathers then express their preferences, indicating at the same time why they propose one topic: rather than another. Already at this stage some themes emerge as being especially timely. Immediately after the closing of the Synod, the General Secretary con-tacts all the patriarchs and metropolitans of the Catholic Oriental Church, the heads of the departments of the Roman Curia, and the presidents of national and international conferences of bishops, inviting them to indicate a theme of their choice. This step is necessary since an Ordinary Synod con-sists only of a relatively small number of bishops, and it is imperative to hear from all bishops through their respective conferences. When all the replies have been tallied, the fifteen members of the Council of the Synod Secretariat are then convened to examine the material and 810 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 to formulate more adequately the themes that seem to emerge. Such a further step is necessary because many suggestions from the bishops' conferences will sometimes deal with the same general topic but under different aspects. The top three themes are then prepared for presentation to the Holy Father, who, as the President of the Synod, sets the agenda and determines the topics to be discussed. Up to now, the Holy Father has always been able to honor the results of the consultation, and has steadfastly chosen the theme that emerged as number one. "Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World, Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council" was requested. The Holy Father, acceding tO this request, told the members of the Council of the General Secretariat on May 19, 1984, the following: It is not difficult to grasp the motives for such a convergence of opinion. In reality, the mission of the laity, as an integral part of the salvific mission of the entire People of God, is of fundamental importance for the life of the Church and for the service which the Church herself is called to render to the world. Among the different motives which have been presented in favor of the theme, the following can be singled out. Within the context of the specifically secular vocation and mission of the laity, there have been numerous posit.ive results and achievements, such as the commitment of many lay men and women in the area of human development, social justice, human rights, peace and international solidarity, politics, human labor and culture. There are also in this area a number of problems which require critical evaluation. Two tendencies which are prob-lematical and raise questions cannot be ignored. A first tendency concerns those among the laity who are so influenced by secularism and by the values, or non-values, of the world that they no longer see that their whole activity in the temporal order is necessarily linked with their faith. This is the case of those men or women who engage in social, political, economic or cultural activity and feel that the inspiration and motivation for their commitment must be found outside their faith. It is the case as well of Catholic public officials who in order to serve all their constituents assume that they must promote positions or norms of behavior which are in contradiction with their faith and their Catholic identity. Another tendency exists where Christians believe that they can carry out their mission by abstaining from any involvement in the problems of society. They withdraw into a purely spiritual or devotional world and close in upon themselves or upon the very private circle of any group or movement to The World Synod of Bishops / 811 which they belong. The Council has very clearly stated that "by reason of their special voca-tion it belongs to the laity to seek the kingdom of God by engaging in the temporal affairs and directing them according to God's will." The same Council also noted that "the laity can be called in different ways to more immediate cooperation in the apostolate of the hierarchy" and that "they have the capability of being appointed by the hierarchy to some ecclesial offices with a view to a spiritual end." In accordance with this conciliar doctrine, a more direct and wider participation of the laity in the pastoral activities of the Church came about. But together with this positive develop-ment, there exists also on the part of some of the laity a far more extensive and stronger demand fo~: access to various "ecclesial ministries." Not all lay participation in ecclesial ministries is without problems. In some local churches, one notices a tendency to restrict the mission of the laity to ecclesial ministries only. This can involve the danger of confusion with regard to the correct understanding of the respective missions of the clergy and of the laity in the Church. We thus see in some situations a real attempt at "clericalization of the laity," while at the same time we assist at the phenome-non of the "laicization of the clergy," when the latter take over the specific mission of the laity in temporal affairs by becoming merely social workers, or p61itical activists. These and other phenomena derive from a particular interpretation given to the vocation and mission of the laity in the Church and in the world presented by Vatican.II. If that interpretation is not correct, the vocation of the laity will not be ~ruly lived out, with the result that harm is done not only to individuals and groups but to the entire ecclesial community. The latter's credibility is impaired and its pastoral efficacy is restricted. It is therefore clear that the doctrine of the Council on the participation of the laity in the mission of the Church and on their own specific mission in the world must be studied in depth at this time. The Preparation of the Synod As soon as the theme of the 1987 Synod had been established, the Secretariat of the Synod invited the bishops' conferences, the Pontifical Council for the Laity and other representative bodies to submit their views on how to approach the theme. The answers were examined first by a task force of theologians, and afterwards by the members of the Council of ti;e General Secretariat. Following the indications contained in the answers from the bishops' conferences and the guidelines elaborated by the fifteen members of the Council, the General Secretariat then produces a preliminary paper called Linearnenta or "outline of the theme." 812 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 The Lineamenta has been sent to all the Hierarchies, not as a working paper for the Synod, but as a help for further study of the theme and for wider consultation in all Local Churches. The outline document is in no way--nor does it pretend to be--a complete and logically ordered treatment of the theme. Neither is it an outline or a draft of a possible future synodal document. It aims to offer a point of departure for analysis, discussion and reflection on the laity: on the doctrinal and pastoral aspects of the question, on values and needs, on achievements and diffict~lties. Its main aim is to stimulate discussion and help the Local Churches deepen their own thinking in. the matter. In the covering letter which accompanied the Lineamenta, the General Secretary insisted that the consultation not be limited to the bishops or to specialized commissions of the bishops' conferences. The letter strongly emphasized that the very nature of the theme, as well as the direct experience of those who fully live their vocation as lay Christians, demand a large scale consultation of the laypeople themselves. This consultation should not be limited to comments on the Lineamenta only, but should continue up to the opening of the Synod itself, so that the participating bishops can truly reflect the situations and expectations of the laity in their particular Churches. Past experience has proven that such a consultation can be a truly bene-ficial event for the Church. It can initiate a process of deeper awareness of all the faithful concerning their own baptismal vocation. In preparation of the 1980 Synod on the Family, the Bishops' Conference of France was able to collect fifty thousand answers from groups and families. Prior to the 1983 Synod on Penance and Reconciliation, the Bishops of Chile gathered twenty-five thousand answers from parishes and small ecclesial communities. The very process of the consultation cannot but have d profound impact on the life of the Local Church when it is carried out at all levels. In order to facilitate a consultation at the grass roots level, the Lineamenta was published in seven languages, and bishops' conferences have translated the document into many more local idioms. It has become one of the most widely distributed texts. At the end of the three chapters of the Lineamenta some questions have been formulated. The answers to the questions, duly synthesized at the level of the bishops' conference of each nation and supplemented by any con-sideration which the bishops themselves might add, will then serve as the basis for the "working paper" which we hope to forward to the future par-ticipants sometime before the opening of the Synod. As of May 1, the cutoff date for the submissions from the particular churches and bishops' conferences, the Secretariat had received answers to the questionnaire from a grand total of three conferences of bishops! The The Worm Synod of Bishops / 813 Extraordinary Synod has certainly interfered with the preparation of the Synod on the Laity. But I also feel that Synods which follow too closeiy must allow sufficient time for a thorough preparation in a way that the whole People of God can feel involved. When I left my office some days ago, the submissions had begun to arrive in larger numbers. Within the next month a Task Force of experts--priests and laity-~will study all the responses and prepare an outline for the working paper (Instrumentum laboris). The fifteen cardinals and bishops, members of the Council of the Synod's General Secretariat, will discuss and finalize ~the outline at the next Council meet-ing, October 8-11. It is clear that the preparation, of the Synod constitutes a unique chal. lenge but also a sterling opportunity for lay men and women to undertake an assessment of their own involvement as baptized Christians in the Church and the world. For the whole Church, it will be an occasion to deepen the understanding of the true nature of the Church on the eve of the Third Millennium of her history. It is an occasion that the Church cannot afford to miss. For Catholic professional media people, the coming Synod offers the possibility to look at their own involvement in the Church and in society, and to assess the role they are called to play as Catholics and as communi-cators. But at the same time the whole People of God, pastors together with the laity, must reflect on the sacredness of the communic~ator's vocation, charisma and ministry. I hope that the following remarks may somewhat contribute to this process of reflection on your part. The Synod and the Media The surprise announcement of the Extraordinary Synod and the relatively short time allotted for its preparation attracted right from the beginning an unusual amount of comment and speculation. Within the Catholic Church, some seemed to fear that the Synod would be used to point the Church in a new direction, signaling a kind of retreat from the principles and attitudes of the Second Vatican Council. Some, on the other hand, saw the Synod as providing an opportunity to identify and correct what they judged to be the mistakes and abuses of the past twenty years. Most however--and this contrary to the impression given by the mass media in the months preceding the Synod--accepted the Synod gratefully as an oppor-tunity to deepen their understanding of the Council, while others, of the younger generation, hailed it as a welcome occasion to discover for the first time in a deeply personal way the message of Vatican II. In spite of the clearly stated intentions of the Holy Father, a debate con-tinued to rage well up to and into the time of the Synod itself. Taking into 814 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 account that some media people have difficulty not to inject into their report-ing their own perceptions and biases, the future debate at the Synod was presented erroneously as a battle between liberals and conservatives. Some seeds of misunderstanding concerning the aims of the Synod may also have been found in the polarization which exists today within many sectors of the Catholic community concerning the nature of the Church and her role. Not a few h~ve retained a position which has not moved beyond the First Vatican Council, and see the Church almost exclusively in structural, institu-tional terms. They have not given enough weight to the work of the Second Vatican Council. They have failed to recognize the essential truth that the Second Vatican C6uncil does not contradict the First Vatican Council, but complements it. The primacy and infallibility of the pope, defined at the First, are not contradicted but developed further at the Second Vatican Council by a fuller consideration of the role and ministry of the bishops. The Second Vatican Council lays emphasis, then, on the collegiality of bishops, on their respon-sibility for their own dioceses and for the good of the Universal Church, on the true nature of the diocese as the Church of God in each locality, and on the dignity and calling of all the baptized. Part of the Church's task in the past twenty years has been to try to find ways of expressing these complementary truths of the First and Second Vatican Councils in struc-tures and attitudes that do justice to both. Inevitably we have failures as well as successes to look back on. But some people have never accepted that that effort had to be made. Others have failed to see how the Church relates to the modern world. In the past, some Christians saw nothing but threat and danger in the world. According to those, the Church stood apart from the world and tended to oppose, reject and condemn it. The Second Vatican Council taught that the Church must be open to the world, its aspirations and struggles, and seek to provide it with a soul and a conscience. Because of those and similar factors, some Catholics came to view the Extraordinary Synod as a moment simply of crisis or conflict. They failed to understand that there is a very real sense in which the life and work of the Church, of a Council as well as of a Synod, can only be seen through the eyes of faith. Many, however, and towards the beginning of the Synod they were a majority, acknowledged the true intentions of the Holy Father. This progres-sive acceptance of the objective and of the true nature of the Extraordinary Synod was the result of many converging factors. The Holy Father himself spoke repeatedly, on the occasion of the Angelus prayer on Sundays, of the teaching and orientations of Vatican II. Bishops, bishops' conferences, The World Synod of Bishops / 815 theologians and lay people engaged, everywhere in a process of further reflec-tion about the Council. Each in their own sphere and field, they began to take stock of where they stood and what ,they had done to implement the Council. And so it could be said that even before the Synod convened its objectives had already been partially achieved through a greater awareness of the total richness of Vatican II for the Church of today. The media interest during the Extraordinary Synod was exceptional. Over and beyond the two hundred fifty journalists with permanent accreditation to the Holy See, some four hundred ten correspondents from thirty-four countries came to Rome for the sole purpose of covering the Synod event. The media of the whole world followed the 1985 Synod with more interest than any of the preceding Synods. Never had the Church attracted so much attention since the days of Vatican II, not even during the Conclaves of 1978, nor even on the day the Pope was shot. The large majority of media professionals.~faithfully reported the true content of the proceedings and of the concluding documents. Wherever I went after the Synod, I was truly amazed at seeing how most of the people that I met had a correct knowledge and understanding of the Synod. And yet, some publications still keep hammering away at the so-called secrecy of the synodal process, at the insufficient briefings or press releases, at the reluctance of Synod officials to talk, at the exclusion of the journalists from the Synod Hall during the meetings, and so on. I will not endeavor to give a deta!led account of all that was done before and during the Synod in order to improve the flow of information. I can only pledge that Archbishop Foley and myself are determined not to put aside any legitimate suggestion that will contribute to better and more objec5 tive information. Today, I only want to share some general observations regarding the relationship between the media and Synod, hoping that those of you who will cover the next Synod may be helped in their task. 1. A Synod of Bishops is an event that must totally and specifically be seen in the context of the Church. Information on ihe Synod has to do with the image of the Church. When one speaks of the image of the Church, there is more at stake than "image" understood in a public relations sense. Something far more fundamental is at stake, namely the self-understanding on the part of the Church of her very nature and mission. Upon that self-understanding or "image" so much else depends, and, in the case that con-cerns us here, on it depends the understanding of the nature and functioning of a Synod of Bishops. 2. The Synod of Bishops is not an ecumenical council where all the bishops of the world, together with the pope, exercise directly and collegially the supreme authority in the Church. The Synod, as set out in the Code 816 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 of Canon Law, is a limited group of bishops who have been chosen from different regions of the world, and who meet at stated times with the pope-- normally every third year. The scope of such meetings is threefold: to fos-ter closer unity between the Roman Pontiff and .the bishops; to assist the Roman Pontiff in safeguarding faith and morals and in strengthening ecclesiastical discipline; to consider questions concerning the Church's activity in the world (Can. 342). It is the role of the Synod of Bishops to discuss the questions on the agenda and to formulate suggestions, but not to decide the issues or to issue decrees, unless the Roman Pontiff in certain cases has endowed the Synod with deliberative power, and even in this event, it is the pope's prerogative to ratify the decision (Can. 343). It is most important to be clear on this point. 3. It is important to realize that the Synod of Bishops is directly under the authority of the pope, who convenes its assembly, ratifies the election of its members and appoints other members, determines the agenda, presides over the Synod and brings it to conclusion (Can. 344). The Synod, then, is not to be seen as a kind of constitutional "check and balance" to the authority of the pope; it is most certainly not an alternative or rival authority; it is one means by which the bishops of the world are given an opportunity to collaborate with the Holy Father for the good of the whole Church. The bishops gathered in Synod together with the pope are not called to promote their own priorities. In listening to and in exchanging with their brother bishops from all continents, they try to achieve a consensus regarding specific recommendations which they wish to propose to the pope. While aware of the needs of their own particular Churches, they must view all questions from the perspective of the universal good of the Church, and thus give equal consideration to the situations prevailing in their own dioceses or nations, as to those of the most distant regions and peoples. 4. The synodal process is unique and cannot be compared with any other process of group dynamics. In a Synod, bishops come together in function of the episcopal mission which they received through sacramental ordination. A Synod will therefore always be first and foremost an event with a spiritual dimension. All through the days of a Synod, bishops open their hearts and minds not only to their brother bishops but to the voice of the Holy Spirit. They allow their convictions to be shaped by human reasoning, by speak-ing out and by listening, by dialogue and discussion, but above all by their willingness to accept the message of Jesus Christ, while together they fathom its depth and relevance under the inspiration of the Spirit. It is therefore normal that at the end of a synodal process bishops approve proposals and express ideas which they did not hold at the beginning, or which differ from what had been stated by their own conference of bishops before the Synod. The World Synod of Bishops / 817 The process of discernment is so essential to the Synod that it should not be made dependent on the ebb and flow of public opinion. That process would be hampered or even distorted if bishops were concerned more with posturing for the media back home than with the collegial search for insight and consensus. 5. Religious editors and correspondents are by and large professionals in the true sense: they know their business and they have a thorough under-standing of the business of the Church. However, time and again some media send to the Synod correspondents who have earned their kudos on the polit-ical scene but are mere apprentices when it comes to Church activities and religious events. The editor of a serious national newspaper or wire service would not dream of sending one of the staff to cover the tennis open unless he or she had demonstrated a solid grip of the intricacies of the game. Nor would a network dispatch to the Pentagon a reporter who has never heard about military strategy, tactics and hardware. And yet, at every Synod we meet media people who see in the Church nothing more than just another political convention or parliamentary assembly where all results are produced through a majority vote. They do not know that the magic of the majority vote does not work when it comes to the formulation of theological principles or moral doctrine! It is not fair to the professional integrity of journalists when they are put in a position of having to relate or interpret events and statements that are totally outside the scope of their qualifications. Goodwill and hard work are not always substitutes for expertise, knowledge and com-petence. A lack of knowledge about religious matters or Church affairs may lead a correspondent to discard whatever news or issue cannot be reduced to "material" or "secular" or "political" categories. 6. A Synod is also a good place to observe trends that are developing in the Church. The last Synods have clearly shown how the presence of bishops from Third World countries is becoming stronger and more influ-ential. Their voices are listened to with greater interest, all the more so since the churches in Africa, Asia and Latin America often present a picture of dynamic growth and joyful celebration that we so sorely miss in many of the churches in the Western world. The Church is no longer Eurocentric or Occidental. Yet among the journalists and correspondents at the Synod, the overwhelming majority comes from Europe and North America, a situa-tion that accurately reflects the distribution of media power in today's interna-tional community. As a consequence, churches in the Third World are almost totally dependent on secondhand information from western sources, except in the case of the few diocesan bulletins that have the good fortune of receiv-ing reports from their own bishops, faithfully composed at the end of each week during a Synod. 818 / Review for Religious, November-Decetnber, 1986 The situation of the Third World churches merits our attention. It is important, therefore, to become more fully aware of the information needs of the younger churches. Media persons should ask themselves whether some-thing more could be done by their publication, by their diocese, at the level of the national Church, particularly of such entities as the Catholic Press Association. It should not be too difficult to come up with some truly imaginative projects, such as sponsoring a religious correspondent from a Third World Church to theupcoming Synod, or organizing internships for young'journalists from Africa or Asia or Latin America who could accom-pany a Western staff to the Synodl These have the means, and I am sure also the motivation, to find a solution to a problem that cannot be solved by them alone, but that will never be solved without their help. I conclude my remarks. Every Synod of Bishops deals with some aspect of the truth of the Church, and always with the entire truth of the Gospel message. The service which the communications media render is, to use an expression dear to John Paul II, "service of truth." In the realm of religious information, the medium cannot be separated from the message of the Lord. We live in an age of increased complexity, confusion and helplessness. In a time of great change and upheaval, there is always, in the Christian com-munity, the human urge to withdraw in a Church-under-siege mentality, to become obsessed with difficulties and dangers, or to suffer paralysis from too much analysis, In the Church we always have a fair share of prophets of doom, those that pull their hair and wring their hands in lament for the loss of faith in our society, while in their own lives they fail to witness to the truth of the Gospel message. Such prophets of doom deny the power of Pentecost and the working of the Spirit, and go forth to proclaim the Good News. In a very special way Catholic media people must be the bringers oftruth, the heralds of the Spirit and the witnesses of love of the Father as revealed in Christ Jesus. The streets and the squares of our cities and villages are teeming with people who wait to hear the truth of the Lord Jesus. We cannot fail them. Pilgrim and Penitent: Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father McCarty writes in his covering letter: "It seems like ages since I've sent in any-thing . A stint on our general council broke the flow of writing." Actually his last article was in 1978, and was entitled: "Religious Roots: Knowing and Owning Our Own Story." He may be addressed at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. The emergency call from my niece came early one Friday last winter. Her seven-year-old was balking at the prospect of first confession with her class several weeks hence. Reassurances seemed of little help. But Heather was willing to talk with her great-uncle. Faced with the formidable task of meeting with a seven-year-old (I'm used to dealing with grown-ups!), I agreed to come over after school that day for., what? Was it to be penitential catechesis? Spiritual direction? Pastoral counseling? Talk about intimidation! In my own mind I settled for just an avuncular chat! Some hours later, I found myself in peripatetic fashion sloshing through the melting snowbanks at a local park. In between kicking her patent leathers into every icy puddle along the way (and stopping to watch a freight train pass), Heather's predicament unfolded. (It's O.K. to write about this. She said I could tell.) Yes, she was clear about the meaning of the sacrament (she called it "reconciliation" !) and about the ritual involved. Yes, her God-image was in good shape (God was her "friend"). No, she didn't have trouble telling God she was sorry when she didn't behave properly (though she did have some trouble telling her brother!). No, she wasn't afraid of the priest (he was "real nice" with the kids). What her hesitation came down to was: (a) she didn't want to have to 819 820 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 tell all her sins to anyone (at least no one "outside the family!") and (b) she was afraid that, if she did, the priest would tell her parents (apparently they didn't count as part of "the family"!) After some reassurances that lots of grown-ups had difficulties with confession (she was surprised that grown-ups had to go too!), but many I knew found it very helpful. I asked if she thought she might give it a try. Her response: "I'11 have to think it over." By that time we were back to the house. It seemed right to end this avuncular chat at this point. There is a certain irony in what appears to be a simultaneous rise of interest in prayer in the United States~ and a sharp decline in the number of sacramental confessions by "grown-ups" in the last two decades.2 Nor is the latter decline limited to the United States. Church-wide concern was manifest at the Sixth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops which addressed "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church.''3 At the close of the synod, Pope John Paul II called for a "contemporary penitential catechesis." With personal prayer "up" and sacramental confessions "down," there has been correspondingly an increased search for spiritual directors and a decreased demand for confessors. Perhaps it would be mutually advantageous for both the sacramental ministry of reconciliation and the non-sacramental ministry of spiritual direction to see them in relationship to one another. That might be one step toward a contemporary catechesis, hopefully leading to a deepened understanding and appreciation of both ministries. It is my purpose here neither to analyze the reasons for this simultaneous rise and decline, nor to trace the historical development of either ministry to any great extent. Rather, I shall explore some distinctions'and similarities between the two; weigh the comparative merits of keeping them together or separate; and, finally, suggest ways in which the two ministries might be kept correlative and complementary in the lives of Christians called to be both pilgrims and penitents. My two basic premises are: (1) it is generally helpful and sometimes necessary to talk about one's experiences of both grace and sinfulness; (2) spiritual direction and the sacrament of penance are two distinct, but not necessarily separate forms of pastoral care providing forums for such sharing. The choice is not to be pilgrim or penitent; it is how, when and where to assume the modality of each. I use the term pilgrim in a symbolic sense to indicate a person's graced movement towards God which often leads to spiritual direction; I use the term penitent in a symbolic sense to indicate a person's movement away from sin which often leads to confession. To expand the symbols somewhat, a pilgrim might be described as one Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 821 who chooses to embark on an intentional faith-journey. The journey becomes intentional to the extent that a person makes a commitment to give serious and consistent attention to the quest for holiness of life as a disciple. Life becomes a faith-journey to the extent that one believes in and acts as though there is a transcendent dimension to all reality and belief in a God who con-tinues to provide for and to guide creatures as they move through life. There is an outer dimension to this journey as the pilgrim interacts with people, places and events that occur in providential sequence and become part of one's sacred geography. There is an inner dimension to this journey as the pilgrim follows a path that leads to deeper union with the divine. Above all, the pilgrim style is prayerful in that, it provides for uncluttered space for reflection so that the people, places and events of the journey can become revelatory of God's beauty, design and call. For help with this discerning prayer, pilgrims often seek out spiritual directors who act as companions, counselors, guides for the journey. ,. As a symbol, a penitent might be described as one involved in an ongoing process of conversion as a sinner loved by God who shows a spirit of true penitence in seeking forgiveness of sin and reconciliation within the community of believers. Conversion is a lifelong process of allowing the grace of God to unify and to free our divided hearts for perfect love. It is a movement away from self-absorption and towards self-surrender to God's designs. True penitence involves knowing and owning the reality of one's sins, being sorry for them and seeking forgiveness. This inner disposition of penitence becomes outwardly manifest in acknowledging one's sins not just to God, but to another who, as an agent of reconciliation, can enable the process of for-giveness. This mediation can happen in both sacramental and non-sacra-mental ways. Sacramentally it can occur in baptism, anointing and Eucharist as well as in penance. Non-sacramentally, it can happen in a variety of ways including healing services, therapeutic counseling or just a talk with a trusted confidant. There is a splendid example of this latter means in the Fifth of Alcoholics Anonymous' Twelve Steps which states: "Admitted to God, to ourselves, and. to another human being, the exact nature of our wrongs.''4 Prescinding from any canoncial necessity, A.A. attests to the efficacy of confessing to another human being: This practice of admitting one's defects to another person is, of course, very ancient. It has been validated in every century, and it characterizes the lives of all spiritually centered and truly religious people. But today religionis by no means the sole advocate of this saving principle. Psychi-atrists and psychologists point out the deep need every human being has for practical insight and knowledge of his own personality flaws and for a discussion of them with an understanding and trustworthy person. So 822 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 far as alcoholics are concerned, A.A. would go even further. Most of us would declare that without a fearless admission of our defects to another human being we could not stay sober. It seems plain that the grace of God will not enter to expel our destructive obsessions until we are willing to try this.5 Finally, a penitent seeks reconciliation within the community of believers. Since one's sins break or fray the bonds of relationship and tend to alienate or isolate the sinner, there is need to seek at-oneness with others who have been affected by one's dark deeds, words or omissions. And this applies to societal as well as personal sin. For help in seeking forgiveness and recon-ciliation, penitents often seek confessors and confidants with whom they can share their failings and seek absolution. Distinctions Between Spiritual Direction and the Sacrament of Penance Before drawing distinctions between the two ministries, a brief historical sketch of the roles of confessor and spiritual director may prove illuminating. In the tradition of the Eastern Church, there has always .been a clear distinction between confessor (parish priest) and spiritual director (starets). According to P. de R6gis: One confesses to his parish priest, and does so by way of an ecclesiastical obligation. He thus accomplishes a duty of community life. However, he goes to the starers solely with the pure desire for personal perfection . A second trait sets the starets completely apart from the confessor. He is chosen not because of his priestly character, but solely because of his charis-matic gifts which people think they see in him. This situation, without doubt, has always existed everywhere, and it was St. Francis de Sales who recommended that we choose our director carefully from "among ten thousand . ,,6 In the tradition of the Western Church, spiritual direction came to be increasingly combined with sacramental confession, a development that paved the way for the later "confession of devotion.''7 A significant influence in the development of Western sacramental prac-tice has been that of St. Alphonsus Ligouri who, in explaining the duties of a confessor, declares that one of the most important of these duties is that of "directing devout souls.''8 B. Haring reflects this strong Alphon-sian tradition of uniting the role of spiritual director with that of confessor: The confessor must also form the conscience of his penitent to an awareness of the obligation to grow in the love of God . The confesso~:'s role is to guide the penitent through the various pathways to holiness, lighting the way to Christ by helping him to develop a fuller prayer life.9 Others who highlight the liturgical role of the confessor tend to separate Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 823 more the ministries of spiritual director and confessor as, for example, L. Hamelin: Nor is the priest I encounter in this sacrament primarily a director of con-science. All the better if he is this, since such direction is a felicitous pro-longation of confession. But it is not essential to the sacrament of reconciliation that the confessor be a good director. The important thing is that he is charged with a mission, namely, the proclamation of the world's salvation. ~o Notwithstanding a variation of stress on the confessor's role as spiritual director, certain distinctions between the ministries of spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation can be made on the basis of purpose (why), minister (who), content (what), process (how), time (when), place (where) and recipient (for whom). These are not meant to be sharp distinctions. Often what happens more properly in one forum occurs also in the other, but in a more secondary way. For example, healing can happen in direction; prayer does occur in the sacrament. Purpose (Why?): Spiritual direction aims primarily at enabling growth in a person's relationship with God and with others in Christ. In addition to proclaiming the world's salvation, the sacrament of penance aims primarily at mediating God's forgiveness and a person's reconciliation with God, self and others. As A. Von Speyer says, "To put the matter simply, we may say that the main function of the confessor is to set free from sin, that of the director to foster growth in divine love.''~ A further distinction should be made within the sacrament itself -- that of penance as a sacrament of necessity, following mortal sin and that of devotion, useful for spiritual progress. This classical distinction is repeated in the revised Rite of Penance (1973) in numbers six and seven, yet, as L. Orsy points out: Strangely enough., it seems that these two distinct operations of penance are lost from sight; the very term "reconciliation" is used indiscriminately for both, although in its proper sense it should be used for those who "have left the house of their Father," not for ttiose who have remained there.~2 Minister (Who?): The present complex practice of the Church is that confessors be ordained priests with faculties granted by an Ordinary for the administration of the sacrament to specified individuals or classes of people. Spiritual directors, on the other hand, do not hold formal office in the Church. Ideally, they are those charismatically gifted and who have the requisite knowledge, experience and skills to enable spiritual growth, and who are sought out by the community. Content (What?): The focus of content in spiritual direction is on the God-consciousness in a person's life and how that person is responding to 824 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 what is heard/seen/felt. The ministry of direction embraces the entire range of a person's religious identity. Key are the questions: Where is God and his offers of grace in the experiences of my everyday life? What are God's desires for me? What am I doing about it? In the sacrament of penance, the focus of content is on a person's need for the forgiveness of sin by an all-loving and merciful God. Key are the questions: What is the shape of my sinfulness for which I am sorry and seek forgiveness? Can I experience God as merciful and myself as a loved sinner? Process (How?): Confession takes place in the internal sacramental forum according to a prescribed rite and is governed by specific laws. In the revised Rite of Penance, there are three modes of sacramental celebration: two com-munal, one individual. For individual, auricular confession, there are pro-visions for praying with and for the penitent, sharing of texts from Sacred Scripture, listening compassionately to the confession of sins on behalf of God and the community, helping to discern the spiritual situation of the penitent, conveying the forgiveness of God by absolution, expressing the exigence of God's call to conversion by the imposition of an appropriate penance and possibly offering counsel as it seems fitting?3 Spiritual direction takes place in the internal, non-sacramental forum, does not follow any set ritual, noris it generally governed by specific legis-lation beyond the basic norms of moral conduct. Direction involves an inter-personal exchange helpful in discerning God's action in the life of the directee. It proceeds according to a style congenial to a particular director and direc-tee, though there are dynamics foundational to all healthy spiritual direction. Time (When?): Spiritual directors meet with directees on a regular basis determined by a working alliance/contract/covenant mutually agreed upon. Penitents are obliged to receive the sacrament of penance as soon as feasible following mortal sin. For confessions of devotion, frequency rather than regularity seems to be the norm suggested for current Church practice. Place (Where?): The ordinary setting for sacramental confession is either a confessional with screen between priest and pentitent, or a reconciliation room specifically appointed for a more personal and informal exchange between the two. (Heather calls the first "the old way" and the second "the new way"! She likes "the old way"!) There is no designated place for sessions of spiritual direction, though consideration should be given to a discreet setting that provides the requisite comfort and confidentiality for a fruitful exchange. Recipient (For whom?): The sacrament of penance is for Christians assuming the modality of penitent.s. Sp.iritual direction is for those assum-ing the modality of pilgrims. Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation Similarities Between the Two Ministries Just as there are differences I~etween spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation, so are there similarities on the bases of purpose, minister, content, process and recipient. Purpose: Both are concerned with the spiritual condition of the pilgrim/ penitent; one stresses the turning away from sin, and the other, the turning towards God -- two sides of the same coin, conversion. Minister: Both confessor and spiritual director see their roles as instrumental, with the Holy Spirit as the principal agent of both forgiveness and spiritual growth. Their instrumentality is enhanced by many of the same qualities and dispositions like prayerfulness, a listening heart, fraternal exchange, respect for the freedom of the other, observance of confidentiality, Christlike love. Content: On the one hand, matters of spiritual growth often receive attention, especially in confessions of devotion. On the other hand, matters concerning forgiveness frequently are dealt with in spiritual direction. A report to the 1983 Synod of Bishops indicates several ways in which this happens: ". certain forms of spiritual direction are of the nature to redeem sins, as, for instance, the revision de vie, the capitulum culpae, a talk with one's spiritual director, confession to a starets in connection with monastic practice." 14 Process: Many of the activities and dynamics that enable effective com-munication with each other and fruitful mutual listening to the Spirit are the same, These would include: prayer with and for the pilgrim/penitent; sharing of texts from Sacred Scripture; affirming grace; challenging growth; occasional instruction; co-discerning the spiritual condition of the recipient; observing periods of silence; gestures communicating God's prodigal love manifested in Christ. Recipient: Pilgrim and penitent are modalities of the same person. Both modalities build on a foundational awareness and acceptance of being a sinner unconditionally loved by a graciousand merciful God. The qualities that dispose one for a more fruitful use of both spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation are much the same: honesty; openness; trust; humility; gratitude and not least of all, the ability to keep one's gaze up and out towards God, and not down and in on one's feet! Together or Separate? There are some notable advantages in combining spiritual direction with the reception of the sacrament of reconciliation: (1) This situates spiritual direction within a liturgical/sacramental context, thus lending it a more visible ecclesial dimension. To the extent that sacramental celebration brings a 826 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 deepened and broadened sense of Church, one can experience more solidarity, support and nourishment in the twin tasks of reconciliation and spiritual growth. J. Sudbrack goes so far as to say: As Catholicism sees it, the most initmate transactions between man and God become authentically visible in the sacrament of the Church. Now as a matter of fact spiritual guidance has often taken place, historically, in the sacrament of penance. The modern practice of consulting the priest in confession is a revival of an old tradition. Even when confession and spiritual guidance cannot be one and the same., it is desirable that such guidance culminate in sacramental confession.~5 (2) Combining both can lessen the tendency to dichotomize one's growth in prayer from the moral attitudes and behaviors of one's life; (3) The for-giving, healing, reconciling action of the Holy Spirit is particularly evident in the revised Rite of Penance. It would seem particularly appropriate that these issues so inimical to spiritual growth -- alienation, isolation, selfish-ness, woundedness -- be dealt with in the same context as one's growth in the Spirit; (4) With keener discernment in "naming one's demons," in being specific about the shape of one's sinfulness, a person is likely to see more clearly those factors as they dull one's sensitivity to the Spirit; (5) Com-bining spiritual direction and confession can become an occasion when one can catch a fuller glimpse of self, both the sin-side and the grace-side. With such fuller perspective it would seem less likely that a person would fall prey, on the one hand, to a self-absorbing remorsefulness over sins or, on the other hand, to hubris (spiritual pride) over spiritual progress; (6) The penitent/pilgrim might see more clearly that God saves and sanctifies right in the midst of one's sinfulness, using even sinful acts and attitudes to lead to deeper union. G. Croft has expressed this well: Like the father with his prodigal son, God permitted Israel's waywardness of old in order that his chosen people might experience what it meant to be separated from their Father, and thus recognize afresh their need of him. So, too, our Lord's consciousness that he had come to save the lost sheep is reflected in knowledge of him as savior, particularly in the moment when the sinner experiences separation from God and the need of his love and mercy. This moment of grace and of conversion each one of us has experienced . not once but many times; so that even when we cry "out of the depths," our seeking is fraught with thanksgiving as we remember his past mercies.~6 (7) The sacrament is a humbling reminder that no one can grow a whit spiritually on his or her own initiative; (8) As both guilt and giftedness are brought to the same session, it can be seen more clearly that both need con-version, lest one become' self-absorbed in either guilt or gift; (9) Coming Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 827 at once as pilgrim and penitent can bring a more genuine realization of St. Paul's observation, ". power is at full stretch in weakness" (2 Co 12:9); (10) Finally, having the same person for confessor and director seems more conducive to the integration of these two valuable outside helps to holiness in that one person hears the whole story in the same context. Difficulties in Combining Roles On the side of the confessor/director, the most obvious difficulty is that this limits the ministry of spiritual direction presently to celibate, male clerics. With increasing demands on time and ministerial skills along with decreasing numbers of priests, it seems hardly likely that they could even begin to satisfy the rising need for spiritual directors. Besides, not all priests have the charisms for this ministry, not to mention the knowledge, skills and experience that facilitate the use of the gifts. Confessors who feel called to and who are willing to give a priority to spiritual direction for their penitents need adequate preparation for it. The commission's report to the 1983 Synod expressed this strongly: It is true that today the authentic form of private confession needs to be profoundly renewed in its spiritual aspects, and this in connection with the revised Ordo paenitentiae. Without such a renewal the Church will not be able to cope with the crisis of the sacrament of penance. For this a better spiritual and theological formation of priests is required, in order that they be able to deal with what is now demanded from confession, viz., the latter should contain more elements of spiritual direction and of fraternal .exchange. Under this aspect the so-called confession of devotion retains its importance.~7 On the side of the pilgrim/penitent, unless care is taken, the integrity of the two distinct ministries can become clouded. There may be some danger, too, that by locating spiritual direction within the context of confession, the project of spiritual growth could become too sin-oriented. At times, a person's sense of sinfulness ~can become so humiliating and/or immobilizing that open and honest exchange is flawed. Or the preoccupation with sin can so capture a penitent's consciousness that there is little room or energy for dealing with matters of spiritual growth. When Distinct But Not Separate In practice, the two can be kept distinct, but not necessarily separate. This is more likely to happen when both confessor/director and pilgrim/ penitent are clear about the distinction and habitually differentiate between the two ministries. If a choice is made to combine them, certain considera-tions may prove helpful: (1) Every session of spiritual direction need not 828 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 occur in combination with the sacrament of penance; (2)Especially appropriate times for combining them might be the seasons of Advent and Lent as well as periods of retreat; (3) In preparing beforehand, the very nature of one's examen can be such as to lead to a reflection not only on sinfulness, but also on graced invitations for further growth. For example, the Beatitudes might provide such a growth-oriented examen for pilgrim/ penitents. D. Barry makes this recommendation: The Beatitudes immediately recommend themselves as a blueprint for an updated, life-affirming ethical spirituality especially suited to the Christian mission of healing and reconciliation. Since they summarize the essence of Christlike living in a form that makes for easy recall, the Beatitudes offer a particularly rich source of meditation or conscience examination matter for the maturing Christian . They readily lead us to questions about our attitudes and conduct that get right to the heart of what contemporary discipleship is all about.~8 (4) If the penitent chooses to combine both, there should be some indica-tion of this intent at the beginning of the session. The penitential ritual might then be celebrated by itself at the beginning or the end of the time together or the penitent might indicate a desire to use the entire time to open before God his whole spiritual condition, graced and sinful, with a view to abso-lution at the end. As alluded to previously, one can develop a sensitivity to God speaking in the midst of one's sinfulness showing a side of self not otherwise open to awareness and conversion; (5) It would seem appropri-ate, on the occasion of confession/direction, that a pilgrim/penitent, in addi-tion to expressing sorrow for sins, also express gratitude for the graced times that have occurred. This, too, is with a view to keeping the more complete self in perspective as one considers his or her relationships to God, self and others. When Distinct and Separate Though the 1983 Synod of Bishops was primarily concerned with the sacrament of penance and, consequently, the role of the priest-director, the theological commission's report to the Synod did give recognition to extra-sacramental direction: That form of confession of sins, which is tied to spiritual direction, is a' very ancient treasure of the Church. On the one hand, it belongs to the very structure of the Church. On the other hand, as can be seen in the mg.nastic and spiritual traditions, it also has a place outside the sacrament. Both these data are factors in the development which is guided by the spiritual experience of the Church.~9 In the increasing likelihood that more spiritual directors will not be priests, Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 829 it would seem appropriate that the ministries be kept correlative and comple-mentary to the sacrament of penance. Some provisions that might help this happen are: (1) Alert and resourceful confessors might recommend qualified spiritual directors to those whose confessions indicate they would benefit from such further help; (2) Both directors and confessors might alert those who come to them to issues that might be dealt with better in the other forum. For example, a director may uncover some significant area that needs sacramental healing. Even if the person feels more comfortable in dealing with the issue in direction, there is the further possibility of celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation later; (3) The relationship between director and directee should be such that the latter will feel free to confide his or her sinful as well as graceful side with a director, lest either side get compart-mentalized; (4) Confessors and directors would do well to cultivate a mutual understanding of and respect for each other's ministries so as to see them-selves not in competition, but in collaboration with each other in their care of souls. Summary In the preceding pages, using the symbols of pilgrim and penitent, I have attempted to further such an understanding and appreciation of the ministries of spiritual direction and sacramental reconciliation by indicating some dis-tinctions and similarities between the two; by weighing the comparative merits and deficits of keeping them together or separate; and, finally, by suggesting some ways in which they might be kept correlative and complementary in the lives of Christians who are called to be both pilgrims and penitents. I close with some verses from the heart of one such pilgrim/penitent who has been on the journey somewhat longer than Heather (by about ninety years)! They are entitled, "Confessor-Director": And then above the dark horizon of my night There beamed a star that bathed my soul with light And beckoned me upon my pilgrim way. My spirit soared to meet the guiding flame That traced a path illuminated by His name And led me on to greet the dawning day! The Day that dawns to span Eternity. P.S. By the way, Heather did join the class for the sacrament of reconcilia- 83!1 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 tion! It seems that Father offered them the option of sitting in his lap. I forgot to ask if she opted for the "new" way! NOTES ~K.A. Briggs, "America's Return to Prayer," New Yoi'k Times Magazine (November 18, 1984), pp. 107-18. 2T.P. Sweetser~ "What Ever Happened to Confession?" New Catholic World (January-February, 1964), pp. 31-2. 3j. Ratzinger, "The Necessity for Personal Confession," Origins 13 (October 20, 1983), pp. 331-2. 4Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (New York: Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc., 1953), pp. 56ff. 51bid, pp. 57-8. 6p. de R6gis, "Confession and Spiritual Direction in the Oriental Church," The Sacrament of Penance, C. de Vaux St. Cyr et al. (Paramus, N.J.: Paulist, 1966), p. 94. 7H.B. Meyer, "Confession or Spiritual Direction?" Making Sense of Confession, 0. Betz, ed., (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1968), p. 128. 8St. Alphonsus Ligouri, Praxis confessarii, nn. 121-27. 9B. Haring, Shalom: Peace (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giraux, 1967), p. 140. ~°L. Hamelin, Reconciliation in the Church, M.J. O'Connell, trans. (Coliegeville: Liturgical Press, 1980). ~tA Von Speyer, Confession (New York: Herder and Herder), p. 214. ~2L. Orsy, The Evolving Church and the Sacrament of Penance (Denville, N.J.: Dimension, 1978). ~3See M. Hellwig, Sign of Reconciliation (Wilmington: M. Glazier, 1982), especially Chapter VIII which treats the role of the confessor. ~41nternational Theological Commission Report to 1983 Synod of Bishops, Penance and Reconciliation, Origins (January 12, 1984), p. 521. ~sj. Sudbrack, Spiritual Guidance (Paulist, 1983), pp. 24-5. ~6G. Croft, "The Sinner Finds God," The Way (January, 1968), pp. 34-40. ~TReport to 1983 Synod, supra, p. 522. ~SD. Barry, Ministry of Reconciliation (New York: Alba House, 1974), p. 111. ~9Report to 1983 Synod, supra, p. 520. Freed for Life in the Spirit -- Together Romans 12:1-8: A Meditation Daniel J. Harrington, S.J. This biblical meditation on Christian life and community was presented at the assembly of the Jesuit New England Province on June 12, 1986. Father Harrington is professor of New Testament at the Weston School of Theology; 3 Phillips Place; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. In an extraordinary act of boldness, Paul addressed at great length the Chris-tians of a church that he had not founded. He was bas.ically asking for a room in which to stay before moving on in his mission to Spain. Even before that, he had to bring the proceeds of the collection to J~rusalem, and perhaps also explain his activities to the Christian leaders there. Meanwhile he was hearing reports about frictions within the Roman community, chiefly with regard to divisions between Gentile Christians and Jewish Christians. With all these situations in mind, Paul wrote what has come to be recog-nized as his theological masterpiece -- his letter to the Romans. I find an uncanny parallel between the dynamics, of Romans and of St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises. Paul first establishes the need of all persons -- Gentiles and. Jews alike -- for something or someone beyond themselves if they are to find right relationship with God. Then he roots the person of Jesus and his followers in the tradition of salvation history reaching back to Abraham. Next he reflects on the difference that Jesus has made by freeing us from sin, death and the Law, and by freeing us for life in the Holy Spirit. These first eight chapters laid the foundations for reflection on the mystery of Israel in chapters 9-11, and for addressing problems within the Roman com-munity in chapters 12-16. Romans 12:1-8 presents Paul's vision of life within the Christian com- 831 832 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 munity. That life is first and foremost a response to the difference that Jesus has made. That life is communal, the task of persons freed from sin, death and the Law as potential masters of their lives, and freed for life under the prompting of the Holy Spirit. That life takes a variety of forms with the clear recognition that all the tasks undertaken within the Christian com-munity are important. "Freed for life in the Spirit -- together" -- that was Paul's understanding of Christian life. Perhaps he can help us as we try to give shape to our life as religious together. A Response Paul begins his exhortation in this way: I appeal to you, brothers, through the mercies of God to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this age but be transformed by renewal of mind so that you may discern what is God's will, what is good and pleasing and perfect (vv. 1-2). With these words, Paul provides us with a way of understanding our-selves and our brothers and sisters in Christ. Calling upon familiar terms associated with sacrifice and temple worship, Paul insists that genuine worship of God takes place not merely in a designated place at a set time but rather in all that we do and whenever we do it. Everyday life is the "place" in which the Father of Jesus Christ is worshipped. The sacrifice that we offer to God is ourselves, no more and no less. In this framework, when we Christians do come together in a designated place at a set time, we are simply making concrete what happens throughout our 'lives. All our life is an act of worship, a time for praise and thanksgiving, a sacrifice holy and pleasing to God. Our Christian lives can be a continuing act of worship precisely because of the difference that Jesus Christ has made. Even though the kingdom of God, or the age to come, is not yet here in its fullness, we believe that in some way it has been inaugurated in Christ. Therefore we need not be con-formed to what Paul calls "this age"; that is, we need not be dominated by sin, death and the Law. Christ has freed us to live in the age to come, which he has already begun. And because Christ has freed us and invited us to share in the inaugurated kingdom, we can discern God's will. In Paul's perspective, discernment is not simply clear thinking coming to closure. Rather discernment has been made possible by what God has done for us in Christ. Discernment is our way of living in the inaugurated kingdom, in the age to come. Discernment is the way in which we shape our response to the freedom won for us by Christ. Freed for Life in the Spirit / 833 Christian life as continued worship, as living in the kingdom, as dis-cernment in response to Christ's gift of freedom -- these are the chief ele-ments in Paul's understanding of Christian life. Paul's exhortation continues: For by the grace that has been given to me I say to everyone among you not to think more highly than he ought to think but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith God has assigned to him (v. 3). Paul speaks sternly here. He wants the Christians at Rome to be more modest and realistic. He wants them to put an end to factionalism and com-petitiveness. He wants to deflate their pretensions. Nevertheless, Paul's way of deflating the Romans' pretensions is amazingly creative and positive. He does not downgrade them or criticize their abilities. Instead, he reminds them about the real source of their powers and indeed about the real source of his own power. In appealing to his own apostolic authority, Paul describes it as "the grace that has been given to me." In urging a more sober estimation of their own intellectual power, Paul tells the Romans to recall that whatever spiritual gifts they have were portioned out to them by God. So in the process of calling to task the Roman Christians, Paul insists on the gift that gives shape to all of Christian life. The fundamental gift of God is Jesus Christ. The ways in which that fundamerital gift is made concrete are themselves gifts. Thus the Christian community is the gathering of gifted persons, who all bear witness to God's most basic gift in Jesus Christ. On the one hand, Paul's doctrine of grace encourages humility, does a~ay with factionalism and competitiveness, and deflates pretensions. On the other hand, Paul's doctrine of grace underlines the "gift" character of Christian life, allows us to look on one another as gifted persons, and helps us to see our lives together as reflections of God's fundamental gift of Christ. No one can boast, precisely because all is gift. Life Together Paul continues: For as in one body we have many members, and all the members do not have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, members each one of the others (vv. 4-5). What coach, what director of a play, what overseer of a trip has not used the body analogy in order to urge greater cooperation among individuals? People of Paul's time were surely familiar with this analogy from a famous fable about the city as a body recorded by Livy. Thus our 834 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 own term, the "body politic." Indeed, there is no need to search for prece-dents or ancient parallels since the analogy is so easy. We all have bodies. Our bodies have many parts. When all the parts work together, each per-forming its proper function, we can accomplish our goal. When one part hurts or fails to function, the whole body suffers. The body analogy is so obvious that we could pass over it quickly if it were not for the small qualifying phrase "in Christ." We are one body in Christ. That is an enormously important qualification. What makes us a body of Christians is not a desire to win a game; or put on a play, or go on a trip: Christ makes us into a body. We become the body of Christ. The life that runs through us all, the spirit that animates us, the force that enlivens us is Christ. Therefore, as we live out our Christian lives as religious, we do so as members of the body of Christ.We are conscious that God has called us to this form of Christian life with other members of Christ's body. We have been called together as a way of responding to God's gift to us. As we work side by side, what we should try to see first and foremost is the life of Christ expressing itself in one another. Service Having laid his foundations about the nature of Christian life and having insisted on Christ as the 'basis of our communal life, Paul now considers the proper response to God's gift of freedom. For what have we been freed? We have been freed for service. In one Of the most tightly packed and meaningful sentences in the entire Pauline co~'pus, Paul says: "Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them . . ." (v, 6a). This dense sentence summarizes Paul's approach to the place of service iri Christian life. In addressing the Romans, he assumes that all Christians are gifted ("having gifts"). The word for "gifts" here is charismata, the singular of which is charisma. But Paul does not use the word charisma as we do in our own day when we talk about charismatic politicians or movie actors -- those who have that certain undefinable something, that magic that makes them attractive to us, whose power comes from some unknown source. Paul knows the source of the Christian gifts. It is the Holy Spirit. Paul knows why Christians can do what they do. It is through the Holy Spirit. Paul knows why Christians do what they do. It is to build up the body of Christ. These gifts (charismata) are according to the grace (charis) given to us, By making this qualification; Paul reminds us that charisms flow from the fundamental grace, which is Christ. Charisms make concrete the grace of Christ. They are the means by which the grace of Christ expresses itself Freed for Life in the SpMt / 835 in our place and in our ~ime. These gifts differ. What sounds like an obvious statement on the logical level is not so easy to recognize in practice. Just as in a body the different members have different functions, so in the body of Christ there is astonishing variety.But sometimes variety is intimidating or frightening, and we want to shape others according to our own conceptions of what is good for them. Paul says no to all such attempts at imposing uniformity on the body of Christ. Variety must be respected not because it is refreshing or interesting but .because it witnesses to the marvelous power of God that can work through so many different instruments. "Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us . " All of us are gifted. Our gifts are rooted in God's fundamental gift to us. Our gifts differ. The next and, indeed, necessary step is to use our gifts in service. God's gifts are not our personal possessions to be polished and stored away. They are not occasions for pride or boasting. God's gifts are to be used in free response to Christ our Lord~ Unlike most people today who understand freedom as the absence of any restraint upon them, Paul looked upon freedom as service under the only master worth serving. Whereas for many of our contemporaries "free-dom's just another word for nothing left to lose," for Paul freedom meant putting aside false masters for the sake of serving God and his people. Paul gives us some examples of service: ¯ . . if prophecy, according to the proportion of faith; if service, in service; he who teaches, in teaching; he who exhorts, in exhortation; he who shares, in simplicity; he who presides, in zeal; he who is merciful, cheerfulness (vv. 6-8). The list illustrates concrete ways in which God's gifts are made manifest. The'list includes prophecy, service (diakonia), teaching, exhortation, sharing, presiding or administration, and acts of mercy. I will not comrfient on each of these gifts.Nor do I suggest that we can bE satisfied with merely transferring them into the twentieth century. Nevertheless, the list is instructive fo? us on several counts. The emphasis is on activities rather than offices or the persons who hold the offices. Also, there is no discernible hierarchy in the list, unlike 1 Corinthians 12. All the activities are important. Moreover, there is a stress on the spirit in which the activities are carried out -- moving backward on the list, in cheerfulness, in zeal, in simplicity, and so forth. Paul reminds us that actions are more important than status or office, that all the charisms are significant and help toward the health of the body, and that much depends on the attitudes with which we carry out our activities. Prayer of Being: Intimacy at the Center David Hassel, S.J. ,, In this article Father Hassel continues his study of prayer and intimacy. The work he has done on this subject, much of which has appeared in our pages, is being gathered into a book entitled Dark Intimacy; Hope for Those in Difficult Prayer published in the near future by Paulist Press. Presbntly, Father Hassel, as Research Professor, is devoting him-self fully to writing, primarily in the area of philosophy. He may be addressed at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 N. Sheridan Road; Chicago, Illinois, 60626. People lose heart when God is drawing them into prayer of being, prayer of simple presence. Here is where people feel most useless to God and to themselves, most empty and unworthy of God. For this prayer is quite silent, ord!narily dry, sometimes hollow, angry-fearsome, briefly joyful, and lacking many former certitudes. If ever a praying person feels far from intimacy with God, it is at this critical growth-point of developing union with God. Here, then, such a person needs reassurance against diffidence. Perhaps assurance will be gained if this prayer of being is recognizably described within one's prayer experience, if its nature is revealed in Scrip-ture, if the disciplining action of this prayer can be sketched accurately, and if the way of living in this prayer can be clearly depicted. All these "ifs" form the strategy of this article. How to Recognize Prayer of Being Prayer of being, lying hidden underneath, at least three layers of expe-rience, has paradoxical features. Probably this is because the depth at which prayer of being occurs makes it describable only in limit-statements. The latter plot out the extreme boundaries of any mysterious experience; 836 Prayer of Being / 837 they do not offer a clear X-ray picture of its inner structure. For example, the first feature of thisprayer of being is its silence. It is gestureless, wordless. When one prays, there seems tobe no response, no sense of God's even hearing one's attempts to reach him. The silver arrows of one's petitions seem to hit the tabernacle and to fall shattered at its base. Praying becomes like the mocking echo of one's own voice when. shouting across.a river to a great bluff on the other side. At the same time, paradoxi-cally, the prayer may be noisy with distractions. One's mind feels like a huge warehouse at which gigantic "semi's" are unloading fresh cargoes of distractions on the warehouse dock and forklift trucks are delivering the boxes of distractions to the center of one's attention. Naturally, such distractedness is accompanied by dryness, the second characteristic of prayer of being. One feels no ready satisfaction, no lifts of the heart with joy. One gains no splendid insights to light up one's path; not even the tired insights of past years arise to illuminate the desert darkness. There is little or no heartfelt attraction for Christ, for Gospel reading, or for generous actions; there is only a certain blankness of mind and a wrinkled leathery feeling in the heart. Yet at the same time, after one has weathered the time given to this prayer (e.g., early in the morning) and started towards breakfast, one experiences a quiet worthwhileness and even a restored strength for the day's duties. These qualities are palpably missing when one omits this prayer; instead, one knows an indefinable seine Of loss and a certain lethargic heaviness. Of course, such experience seems somewhat hollow, the third feature of the prayer of being. The absence of satisfaction felt inside oneself is matched in one's outer activities. Hobbies, entertainment, daily work, favorite diversions--all seem strictly routine, not attractive, and rather superficial as though the silence and dryness of prayer had seeped into one's more exterior doings. Yet in the prayer of being itself and in these activities, there is a remote sense of fullness, as though through the deepest caverns of one's praying/working self there runs a great underground river. This remote fullness expresses itself indirectly when the praying person finds himself or herself saying: "Where else would I want to be than here? Nowhere else. What else would I rather be doing? Nothing else." What is this peculiar sense of rightness amid silence, dryness, and hollowness? Because the person now doing the prayer of being has already lived faithfully with the Lord not a few years, there is the fear that he or she is backsliding, is caught in a web of self-delusion. And yet the person may also feel deep anger towards God at the "unfairness of it all." This is the fourth feature of theprayer of being. For the individual begins to question: "What am I doing wrong that the Lord should be so distant?" And then 838 / Review for Religio'us, November-December, 1986 begins some rummaging around in the past for a disastrously wrong deci-sion, a fatal flaw of character, a refused grace of strategic importance. For example, a retreatant was asking these questions of himself from the fifth to the nineteenth day of his. Ignatian thirty-day retreat and came upon this answer on the nineteenth day: "This retreat is a fraud; your life leading up to this retreat has been equally fraudulent; in fact, you've been embezzling yourself from adolescence till now." On recounting this dazzling insight to his director, the latter said to him: ''Be sure to keep up this type of question-ing. And don't for a moment trust yourself, others, me, or God." This response shocked the retreatant into recognizing both the superficial evi-dence that provoked the questioning and the serenity he experienced deep at the center of his being--paradox of paradoxes. Even as he felt whirled about in swirls of confusion, he also knew that in the depths of his being he was resting at home with the Lord in the center of the universe. He felt like the weather-pilot who had been fighting a bucking plane through the tornado and now has suddenly broken into its quiet eye. But where there is fear, there is often also an accompanying anger. Frustrated with my work, my family, my own self, and embarrassed by my anger at God for all this frustration, I am restless, eager to break out of this suffocating cocoon of self. 'Repulsed by, my negative mood, by the stark vision of my sins .and limitations, by my own littleness compared to God's greatness, I experience a profound, but false sense of guilt. For I have forgotten that one gets most deeply angry only with those one loves best and that to be angry with God is to take seriously his goodness and his providence. Anger with a friend (even with God) can be a secret compliment. ~ Thus the angry Jeremiah felt free to call God to his face "a treacherous brook" (Jr 15:18) and to accuse the Lord of duping him (Jr 20:12). For this reason guilt at my anger is a false guilt, which acts like a suit of armor so that I cannot feel God's touch. Even if I did feel his touch I would deny it, because "what god would want to deal with me." Yet eventually, as a fearful, angry person who is doing the prayer of being, I find myself repeating the words of the fiercely angry prophet in the Book of Lamenta-tions: "The favors of the Lord are not exhausted, his mercies are not spent. They are renewed each morning, so great is his faithfulness" (3:22-23). Amid all this confusion, there are occasional leaps of the heart at God's dim presence. They are very brief and widely spaced, with only.a rare moment when he seems to take over completely. Prayer of being, then, is not one long, monotone bore, A person can, however, overlook these quick touches of the Lord. Once a directee confessed: "If I had not kept a daily diary of this dry prayer Prayer of Being / 839 of mine, I would have complained that God was completely absent these past fifty days. But when I read back, I found four or five spots where the Lord made his presence felt for a few moments." Of course, this informa-tion makes quite a difference not only to the directee but also to the director. Soprayer of being is not a state of prayerlessness; its fifth feature is the Lord's quiet signaling of his companionship in our fears and anger. There is, nevertheless, in this prayer of being a gradual loss of youthful certainties. This constitutes the sixth characteristic of the prayer of being. One feels quite uncertain about so many things: political issues, the nature of holiness, the future of the United States, theological schools of thought, personality theories, economic cure-alls, long-standing family arguments, the proper raising and education of one's children, and so on. This deep wondering issues not so much from tired cynicisms as from a new sens( of mystery. Too often the failure of simple solutions has proved the myste-rious complexity of a person or of a situation, or of some vast plan of social improvement. Sometimes the praying person mistakes the deep wondering at such failures fora faith-loss---especially when a glance at the vine of one's apostolate seemingly reveals only shrunken grapes. A compelling temptation can then arise to find new works to do, new people to consult, new plans to promote. There can be even tears at this point though one is not sure why they come frustration, hope, self-pity, consolation? The most acute sufferings occur when the praying person feels seating doubt about whether he or she can love anyone fully, or be lovable to anyone else. And yet as the praying person descends deep into the self without knowing what lies ahead, there is no desire to go back up, even though the darkness seems to be heavier, for one experiences a strange contentment with the, situation--because one feels loved intimately. Does Prayer of Being Deny Intimacy? These six characteristics of prayer of being: silence, dryness, hollow-ness, fearsome anger, rare inbursts of joy, and loss of certainties would seem almost to deny the presence of any intimacy in this prayer. But the opposite is true. First of all, only by going through the various stages of prayer which require deep intimacy (one-to-one prayer, forgiveness, sinful-ness, apostolic more, and powerlessness) can one enter into the prayer of being. To declare that these stages of intimacy lead only to non-intimacy is to join the absurdist philosophers in stating that the human person is a living contradiction for self-destruction. In fact, the state of dryness charac-teristic of prayer of being is normal to all prayer, just as it is the normal 840 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 condition of any human relationship. It is the state lying between the extremes of consolation and desolation, just as the dryness in marriage or in work is the normal feeling between the ecstacy of love or of high success and the despair of lost love or bankrupt business. Dryness in prayer is the balanced state for enduring well everyday living. It is a secret strengthening joy; it is that sustaining intimacy which arises out of suffering well the everyday routines of prayer and life. Indeed, dryness is very instructive for the praying person. It forces the one who prays to distinguish the various levels of human experience, to enter their depths, to learn, more accurately what passive prayer is, and finally to develop a faithfulness to God which is more independent of consolations or desolations, of elations or depressions, and of subjectively estimated successes and failures. Let us glance at the levels of human experience so as to better under-stand dryness in prayer. There is, first, a superficial level, which consists of pleasures and pains present to our awareness like the constant purr of an air conditioner, the heavy perfume of lilacs, the irritation of a skin rash or a raspy voice, the comforting warmth of a May.sun or the soft touch 9f an April breeze and shower. The first level, then, is a constant stream of sensual impressions, the context of life. Underneath this is a second level of deeper experiences, such as the constant ache of neuralgia, or the deep pleasure of loving interchange, or the delight of solving a perplexing business problem, or the lyric leap of an evening at the symphony, or the exuberant planning for the first baby, or the panic fear of a flashing knife. This second level is more meaningful, and it lends depth to the first one. But underlying both these levels is a still more profound set of expe-riences which make up the third level. It is on this level that one experiences the enervating worry at not having a job, the satisfaction of affectionate family living, the sorrow of watching the alcoholic spouse struggle for respectability, the fulfillment of a project successfully completed which demanded ten years of one's life, the sense of worthwhileness in the costly sacrifice for one's beloved. At this third level, a person's deepest hopes are raised or dashed, a person's finest joys are brought into full bloom, a person's crushing sorrows test the stamina of one's very being. Believe it or not, there is also a fourth level, which is the dynamic basis of the three higher levels of experience. Although the top three levels are directly knowable to the subject, this fourth level is discovered and known' only indirectly, that is, only in contrast with the other three. Thus, a woman can be in good health on the first level, can enjoy a full family life on the second level, can see her role in life as richly meaningful on the third Prayer of Being / 841 level, and yet be restless and pain-filled on the fourth level. If it were not for this dramatic contrast with the top three levels, .she could not possibly come to know the fourth level as part of her experience. This revealing contrast can also occur in the opposite manner. A man may be suffering from a fourteen-day cold on the first level, may feel misunderstood by the family on the second level, experience sharp doubt on the third level about his ability to handle his new and complicated position in the corporation--and yet be peaceful at the fourth level, under-neath the disturbing events of the top three. He could well find himself asking: "What's wrong with me? I should feel depressed and desolate, but I don't. Am I becoming schizoid? Or have I lost interest in my family and my career?" But this startling contrast lets him know, if he reflects on it, that there is a fourth level of his experience, one known only by contrast with the upper three levels. This long explanation is meant to lead to the conclusion that great dryness of prayer at the top three levels of experience can be accompanied by a serene peace and sense of personal worthwhileness lurking underneath at the fourth level. Such a discovery lights up prayer of being, since such prayer happens at this fourth level where one comes into contact with one's being, one's fullest identity. Here, too, is the best rendezvous-point for meeting God. As any prayer which leaves us feeling powerless indicates: God is the one doing the praying in us; and he starts it at the fourth level, then lets it percolate up through the other three levels. In prayer of being, however, God may shut off this percolation into the top three levels. When this happens, one can find God only indirectly, through the contrast of the upper three levels with the fourth-level. At this point the praying person finally recognizes that he or she is totally at the mercy of God's initiative. Again, he or she more sharply appreciates the need to be more pa~ssive under God's action. Most of us, nonetheless, fight hard to be the active senior partner in prayer, and so we struggle mightily On the top three levels to keep control. At the first level we may try new vocal prayers, new Zen techniques, new spiritual reading books; at the second level we may try to pump up old emotions we once felt and duly inscribe in our spiritual diaries, or we may review magnificent panoramic insights of our personal salvation history. On the third level, we may investigate our motivations for being good family people, for becoming career enthusiasts, for entering the life of religious vows, for being unmarried or married, for being lazy or aggres-sive, for being liberal or conservative, and so on. In other words, to avoid the passivity of prayer, we strain to climb the sheer glass mountain of mystery by our fingernails. Inevitably we end up at 842 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 the bottom of the mountain, looking at our bloody hands. Slowly it dawns on us that maybe only God can lift us to the top of the glass mountain, that we have to rest passive in his hands as he lifts us gently and gladly, that only after we admit our total dependence on him, will he lift us to the top of the mountain. We learn, then, what the passivity of prayer is: letting God do the praying in and through our four levels of experience, while we simply furnish ourselves--and some basic conditions for prayer, e.g., time carefully set aside, some reading of Scripture and other spiritual works, a reverent body-position, a readiness to go in prayer wherever the Lord leads, and so on. These conditions God can use or not use as he sees fit. There is a third result of recognizing thi.s fourth level: because of dry7 ness at the upper three levels, one develops a faithfulness to God which is more independent of consolations or. desolations, of elations or depres-sions; one becomes aware of the constant presence of God in this fourth level. There, likea great underground river, he quietly nourishes all one's activities on the top three levels, rendering the praying person serene in the sure direction of the fiver, and letting the person know that he or she is never alone, never far from the center of the universe. This quiet reas-surance can occur in the midst of the most joyful, or the most sorrowful happenings on the upper three levels, and thus it nurtures the wholesome independence of the praying person. So it is no surprise that the person finds the edge taken off deep fears, fierce angers dampened down, and pestering doubts stilled. Thusprayer of being is never a lonely experience, since it is a constant, indirect awareness of God at one's deepest level of experience, at the center of one's being. In this way, divine being speaks within the individual person's being. Paradoxically, such communion is wordless at this silent depth. It is a simple presence to each other like that between long-married partners who have great mutual devotion to each other. In this one-to-one awareness, God and the praying person have, by a kind of osmosis, an underlying, indirect appreciation of each other rather than a direct face-to-face meeting as in the beatific vision. Their co-pres.ence is more by being than by insightful action or by tangible feeling. It is as though the praying person reaches behind his or her back to touch God. For each affects the other by pure presence of being, as happens when people are aware of each other even though separated by oceans and mountain ranges. Because this presence is so deep and subtle, it takes long years and much experience for the average praying person to recognize its potential for intimacy. Such mutual awareness is a beingrfor-the-other. This has a rema~:kable effect on the human partner. He or she finds greater empathy for other human beings at a deep level of experience, namely, that of being, of Prayer of Being / 843 radical person-hood. It is this which enables the praying person to enter more profoundly into the routinized lives of God's marginal people, to feel more deeply the emptiness of their sometimes meaningless lives, and the gestureless silence of their listless suffering. As a result the person in prayer of being becomes more ready to sacrifice, more apostolic in intent, in order to fulfill the needs of the Lord's anawim. Perhaps this is the cosmic com-passion of which Christ speaks: "Love your enemies, pray for your persecu-tors. This will prove that you are sons of your heavenly Father, for his sun rises on the bad and the good, he rains on the just and the unjust. In a word, you must be made perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:44-48). Because this prayer of being issues in close union not only with God but also with his marginal people, it leads to a dynamic compenetration of the two great commandments: to love God is to love neighbor and vice vers~a. In this way, prayer of being becomes like the background music permeating my consciousness as I wait for a client or work over financial accounts or have my teeth cleaned or do housework and gardening. It is a quiet, strengthening, enlivening presence which I may even take for granted until its temporary shutoff leaves me cold and bereft. Perhaps better, it is like a long-term friendship highly prized yet often taken for granted because it has always been the~:e to guide, envigorate, and challenge me, and, finally, to assure me of a happy future in serving others. Thus prayer of being, if it is anything, is a new depth of intimacy not only with God and self but also with all other human beings. Prayer of Being in Scripture Prayer of being is profoundly embedded in Scripture. Among the multiple translations of 'the divine name Yahweh in the Old Testament is: "he-who-is-for-others." Since Yahweh is the continuing creator and perdur-ing animator of all things, he clearly lives up to his name. He literally brings all things into being out of nothingness and then remains in them to pulse their existence constantly lest they sink back into nothingness. He is being for all other beings. It is no wonder, then, that in theprayer of being, the praying person becomes so sensitive to nothingness or emptiness at the same time as he or she notes the fullness of being around and in him or her. Yahweh, nonetheless, is not satisfied with this degree of intimacy within all created beings. Out of all the nations, he selects the weakest, that motley throng of mixed breeds from Egypt called the Israelites, and begins to form them into his people. To do this, he makes a covenant with them; they are to be his people and he, their God. Actually, it later becomes a marriage covenant since he comes to consider the Hebrew nation his bride. To 844 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 demonstrate this, he even tells Hosea, who had unfortunately married a woman turned prostitute, to remarry his bride. In this way is symbolized Yahweh's remarriage with his adulterous Israelite people, and so drama-tized the intimate relationship which Yahweh wants with the Hebrew peo-ple-- a relationshipfar beyond, yet built out of, the intimate relationship of creator and creature in being. Thus any turning of the Hebrew people to another or false God is considered nothing less than adultery--to be pun-ished, for example, by the great exile of 587 B.C. Such being-for-others (Yahweh himself) makes understandable why the second person of the Trinity would be sent into the womb of Mary to become the Jesus of history. The Christ intimately immerses himself in the being and life of his Jewish family, his town of Nazareth, and his country of Palestine. Jesus becomes. Jewish from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Thus he literally is the wedding covenant of Yahweh with the Hebrew people; his very flesh and all his historical actions are divine and human, Godly and Jewish, inextricably. In this way, the God-man can enter into and share our gestureless, wordless silence in the hidden life of Nazareth, our dryness from routinized lives in his daily handyman tasks, our felt hollowness from self-emptying sacrifices for those dear to us (Ph 5:2-7), our fears ("My soul is troubled now, yet what should I say-- Father, save me from this hour?" [Jn 12:27]), and our angry frustrations ("What an unbelieving and perverse lot you are! How long must I remain with you? How long can I endure you?'[Lk 9:41]). He also shares our rare leaps of joy ("At that moment Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit"ILk 9:12]), and our hollowness felt at the center of our beings (Jesus sleeping the sleep of exhaustion in the storm-tossed boat). He knew all the ingredients of being human; he, too, did theprayer of being in relation,to the Father. In his bones and nervous system Jesus felt his being-for-others at the three upper levels of his experience. This being-for-others is best seen, however, in his joy at the fourth level underneath his passion at the upper-three levels. The seven last words of Christ express an exquisitely beautiful and expensive intimacy. When Jesus said: "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me. Weep for yourselves and for your children" (Lk 23:28), could he have been other than a being-for- others amid terrible dryness and felt fear? When he cried out: "Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing" (Lk 23:34), was he not a being-for-others amid the deaf silence of his crucifiers? When he turned his head towards Dismas to say: "This day you .will be with me in paradise" (Lk 23:43), was he not a being-for-others in the brief joy of this moment? When he looked to Mary and John and said: "Woman, there is your son; [son,] there is your mother" (Jn 19:28), was he not a being-for- Prayer of Being / 845 others emptying himself of his last possession? When he screamed out: "I am thirsty" (.Jn 19:28), was he not revealing that his being-for-others felt hollow and dry in its helplessness? When he spoke to the Father appeal-ingly: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Lk 15:34), was he not a being-for-others feeling the loss of cherished certainties? When in a final burst of profound trust he shouted: "Father, into your hands I com-mend my spirit~' (Lk 23:46), was he not a being-for-others stripped down to nothing but trust, having given over to the Father all that was dear to him: Mary, the apostles, Mary Magdalen and the other loyal women, his work of the past thirty-five or so years, and the whole future of his Church? Underneath this crush of even~ts commemorated by Jesus' seven last words, underneath the excruciating agony of the physical, psychological and spiritual levels of Christ's ex.perience, is the fourth level of his joyous strength in the Father's love for him, and in the beautiful "background music" of the Father's tender, caring affection for him. For the death of Christ on the three top levels was simultaneous with the subdued resurrec-tion on the fourth level. This was Christ's continual prayer of being within the Paschal mystery. Has there ever been such intimacy in suffering and joy as that of Christ with the Father and with his people? Thus is revealed dimly the structure of the prayer of being beneath its previous paradoxical features. As Letter,to the Hebrews notes: "For the sake of the joy which lay before him he endured the cross, heedless of its shame" (12:2). The Terrible Liberating, ~iscipHne Of the Prayer of Belng Theprayer of being, therefore, carries within it a terrible, yet beautiful, discipline: the willingness to suffer for what is right and just, true and good. The author of Heb~rews put~ ihe meaning of discipline .bl.untly for us:~ "Endure your trials as the discipline of God who deals with you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you do not know the disciplineof sons, you are not sons but bastards" (12:7-8). Evi, dently God disciplines his people out of affection by allowing them to suffer. As a result, aware of powerlessnes.s, they can be endowed with his power without any fear that th, ey wohld claim this power to be their own. Chapters six to nine of Deuteronomy illustrate how a ,terrible discipline prepares for intimacy with God, for prayerof being. There God declares: "You shall not put the Lord to the test" (6:16), that is, demand that he act in your way at your time and place. Clearly, "It was not because you are the largest of all nations that the Lord set his heart on you and chose you, for you are really the smallest of nations. It was because the Lord loved you" 846 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 (7:7-8); in your littleness you do not set the music of the dance with God. "For forty years now the Lord, your God, has directed all your journeying in the desert, so as to test you by affliction and find out whether or not it was your intention to keep his commandments" (8:2); ". the Lord, your God, disciplines you even as a man disciplines his son" (8:5); ". [lest] you become haughty of heart and unmindful of the Lord" (8:14). God's guid-ance through the desert (of prayer of being) may seem directionless to us and may seem to undermine our certainties. But our trustful following keeps us from the crazy deviations of pride and of secret contempt for God's providence. This discipline of the prayer of b'eing is necessary because "otherwise you might say to 3)ourselves, 'It is my own power and the strength of my own hand that has obtained for me this wealth'" (8:17). "No, it is not because of your merits or the integrity of your heart" (9:5). This last statement is strangely reassuring for the person doi.ng prayer of being and feeling virtueless, angry, fearful and empty. Such a person has reason to hope because Christ anticipated this: "Son, though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when perfected, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him" (Heb 5:8-9). There is, therefore, a scripti]ral basis for the discipline found in prayer of being. This discipline itself, though painful, is actually a liberation produced by the prayer of being. This liberation, however, is not a secret contempt for the bodily and the sensual; such would be a disincarnation, not an incarnation, of Christ. Nor is this liberation the ability to leave a beloved person or a f~ivorite place-possession-job-ambition without suffering regret; this would be more a cold self-centeredness that is ready to detach itself only in order to grab something or someone better. Rather this liberation is: 1) a willingness to be separated from what one loves for the sake of the beloved without ever ceasing to love this beloved' (seeing off the mis-sionary friend withoUt hope of ever meeting again); 2) a'willingness to let someone dear grow freely without trying to control, even though this means great suffering for both (the parent letting the stubborn twenty-year-old make a d(astic mistake in choosing a job--for the sake of his growth in wisdom); 3) a willingness to risk everything to put God or another person ahead of one's business, sporting succesg, work, comfort, or career, even as one continues tO pursue these ventures; 4) a willingness tO choose the good consistently, i

Issue 29.1 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDI.TORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Eilard. 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 R~wEw vog l~uG~ous; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Provirice Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1970 by RZVzEw' FOR RELIOIOUS at 428 East Preston Str~:t; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class posta[~e paid at Baltimore, Maryland and ai addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Suhscsiption U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, "$9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two yean. Orders should indicate whether they ah: for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to RFvu~w FOR RI~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions; wl~re ~ccom-padded by a remittance, should be sent to Rgv~zw ~OR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~X 671; Baltimo~, Ma~land 21203. Chang~ of addr~, bu~ co~es~nd~ce, and ord~s not a~ ompa~ed a remittance should be g~Ltotous ; 428 East ~eston Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts, ~itofial cor- ~s~ndence, and ~oks for r~iew should sent to REVIEW FOR gELIOIOUS; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~uri 63103. Qu~fions for answering should ~ the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JANUARY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR Volume 29 1970 EDITORIAL OFFIG'E 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. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is indexed in the Catholic Peri-odical Index land in Book Re-view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i8 available from University Mi-crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. GEORGE WILSON, S.J. Community. and Loneliness Not another article on communityl Haven't we all heard enough on that subject to last us through our next ten general chapters? Perhaps. But I hope the reader will excuse me if I muse a bit out loud on some questions in this area which I feel we have neglected in spite of the deluge of analyses, anathemas, and recipes to which we have been treated in recent years. The reflections which follow will have only the merest semblance of any order. I make no apology for this. It happens to represent for me the state of the issues, which recurrently bob to the surface of my consciousness like the flotsam from a variety of experiences with religious men and women over the past six years. It strikes me, incidentally, that flotsam may be a particularly apt word inasmuch as some of these experiences involved rather disastrous shipwrecks. We might make a good beginning by taking eight giant steps backwards to a typical religious community in the year 1962. (We now know that such a thing never existed, of course; beneath the surface each com-munity was really very different. In those idyllic days, however, we might very well have lived under such an illusion.) We heard about the Council---the typical first reaction was "I wonder why?"--so we prayed for the gentle rain of the Spirit. We prayed for the success of the Council more or less as we would have prayed for a Eucharistic congress. We prayed for rain and we were treated to a ty-phoon. And not least in the area of what we came to call "community." We might even have to remind our-selves now that the word "community" was hardly ever heard before the Council. And certainly if we used it at all, it was not with all the psychological baggage with which it is currently burdened. In those ÷ + George Wilson, $.J., teaches theol-ogy at Woodstock College in Wood-stock, Md. 21163. VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. George Wilson, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS days we might have spoken of "common life"--but that was such a different thing. I hope I will be for-given the whimsical reflection that in those days "com-mon life" was frequently used to engineer the rigidity which precisely destroys all life, whereas today our more likely mistake is to invoke "community" in order to perpetrate all the most bizarre diversities which haven't the foggiest connection with the people with ¯ whom we live. Lest this latter remark be misconstrued, let me .hasten to add that it is not in any way a plea for more togetherness. I suppose at this point I am just suggesting that we abandon the futile gesture of trying to baptize the many sensible, good, and apostolic things done by religious with the tag "community." If indeed they are sensible, good, and apostolically profitable, they will remain so even without the tag, as long as the religious lives up to his or her basic commitment to the group. At any rate, I think we would all admit that "com-munity" has taken on new burdens in the renewal years. The new factor consists in the conscious emphasis on personal enrichment of the life of the individual through the intimate sharing of life with similarly dedi-cated persons. This is not to suggest that religious life in previous decades did not bring rich personal satis-faction to the lives of many wonderful and wonder-fully human beings. It is one of the cruel illusions of some of our fiery reformers to think that they dis-covered the category of the personal--cruel to others because it seems to cast a shadow over the accomplish-ment of their great lives of service, but even more cruel to the reformers themselves because, being, an illusion, it prevents them from seeing precisely the beauty of lives lived for years at a steady, if less ro-matically intense, warmth. One is tempted to think of beams and motes and so forth. Be that as it may, the difference between then and today is not, I would submit, that between coldness and warmth, but rather between a then in which the warm personal successes and the cold impersonal failures were just lived, and a today, in; which they are consciously sought after (warm personal relationships) or consciously and ruthlessly knocked down (the merely functional, computerized, impersonal civilities). People were always warm (some) and cold (some) and they still are today (some of e~ch). Wheat and cockle and all that. It is just that we religious have as a group grown more reflective about how it happens; we have evolved a new set of forms which define and give contemporary expression to warmth and coldness (and we .are evolving even newer forms at a dizzy pace); and we are more consciously searching out the ways to increase the successes and minimize the failures in the process. All of which is good. Religious communities not only should be places in which the full development of human personal potential for life and love and happiness takes place, they should also be evidently such. Signs which don't communicate are worse than anomalies: they have the fateful chameleon capacity to become counter-signs. Let it be proclaimed once and for all: a man or woman giving his or her life to Christ in a religious society should find there the ac-ceptance and warmth and affection which any hu-man being has a right to look for in his commitment to any other person or group of persons. Unfortunately this still does not get us out of the woods. I say unfortunately, because I am afraid that many religious feel that the mere affirmation is enough by itself to answer all difficulties. To draw a bold caricature which probably never happened, I ~aave the recurring fantasy of a contemporary religious say-ing: "A religious community should be an intimate group of people who are in love with one another. I don't feel that way about any of the eight people I live with and I certainly know non~ of them feels that way about me. So this isn't a community, and I'm get-ting out of this farce." Put in such a starkly simplistic form, some of the ambiguities which lurk within our thinking about community are thrown into a new light and some finer honing of our questions is called for. What degree of intimacy can a person realistically hope for with eight people selected more or less at random by somebody who won't be living with them? Yes, the community should supply warmth and personal sup-pol: t--but just who is the community when I say that? Does the community commit itself to being my only source of deep personal relationships and human ful-fillment? Need it always and in every instance even be the primary source? Is it possible that by failing to face these questions we have created a thought pattern in which the individual religious is unwittingly taught to have entirely unrealistic expectations and then when these cannot be met he or she is compelled to seek their fulfillment elsewhere? It has been observed in the case of marriage that our current high divorce rate can be directly attributed to the fact that modern man's ex-pectations from marriage are, contrary to a superficial view, actually much higher than in the past; would the increasing rate of departures from religious life be say-ing the same thing about our expectations concerning it? I would not pretend to answer all of these difficult questions in the space of a brief article. But perhaps we + 4. + Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 5 + ÷ ÷ George Wilson, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 may move the dialogue along a bit by examining a couple of areas: (l) the people with whom I should expect to find "community" when I commit myself to Christ in a religious group, and (2) one of the false understandings of community under which we may have been unwittingly operating. First, to the people. The operating principle of many religious today would seem to be that I should be able to attain to deep intimacy with all the members of my local community or else it is all a sham. I will leave aside the question which the older religious, often quite legitimately, is frequently heard to ask, namely, what in the name of all that's holy do they mean by "deep intimacy"? My presumption for the moment is that the people in question are attempting to point to something real of which they have already had some experiential taste and which they do expect to find in religious life, however halting they may be in articulat-ing what they mean by it. In other words, I can also sympathize with their common response of "if you don't even sense what I'm talking about, that's even sadder than the fact that we don't have it here." At this point the meaning of "deep intimacy" is not my con-cern. But leaving it descriptively for the moment at the level of a vague but real experience whose presence or lack can be grasped by any sensitive human being, my question is rather: With whom should I reasonably expect to achieve it? There is a "tradition" (of very recent vintage, I sus-pect) which would be shocked that the question is even raised, since sell-evidently this kind of relationship has to be achieved with one's local community. To which my question in return would be: is it all that self-evident? I ought to find a~ceptance and warmth and affection in the community of people to whom I have committed myself, but does this lead me realistically to expect a relationship of deep intimacy with the eight members of my local community? At about this point in the dialogue it is not unlikely that someone will be thinking: "But just look at the community of our first foundersl They had this kind of deep relationship, but we've lost it." The comparison is frequently made and I would like to suggest that it masks a fateful equivocation. To use the word "com-munity" to describe a handful of people who freely and individually sought each other out through a proc-ess of long personal contact and testing, and then to make this a model for one's expectations when one is assigned to a random collection of eight individuals out of a 500-man (or 35,000-man) congregation to which I commit mysel/-~this is surely courting intellectual con- fusion and psychological disaster. The founding group had a sense of community and generally very intimate relationships. (Would one seem too cynical if one were to suggest that we have probably romanticized even the latter element? A sober reading of our early histories would suggest that for all their vision and charisma our founders generally had to be very hard-headed, down-to-earth wrestlers in order to. survive the fierce opposition which their vision generated.) The fact that they had both these elements in one integrated, lived way should not make us forget that they are two different things. Perhaps a parallel drawn from a related area may be of some assistance here. The movement known as the Teams of Our Lady (or by its original French title, Equipes-Notre Dame) consists of married couples who are established into communities of six couples each. It is important to note that the couples do not as a rule choose the other couples with whom they will de-velop as a team; the leadership of the movement usually gathers them on the basis of factors such as geographical proximity and so forth. The goal of the team is to help one another grow in holiness, which involves assisting each couple to find the ways to express love in the various situations into which their marriage and family life call them. The forms and practices of the spiritual life vary from couple to couple. The role of the other couples in the team is to foster the individual couple's unique growth, not to dictate a particular recipe for conjugal sanctity. The point of the parallel is that the testimony of the couples in the movement reveals that they have discovered experientially the distinction be-tween a successful team and what they call a "cozy team." A given team which is functioning well may gradually develop also into a cozy group; the couples and their children may begin to socialize apart from the explicit team structure, they may begin to gravitate to-ward other team couples in deep friendship. Or they may not. The point is that couples find that this factor is not essential to the success of a team. Teams can reach great depths of spiritual sharing and mutual assistance and growth without a great deal of socializ-ing or what one might call camaraderie. Indeed there are teams whose rating on the latter scale is very high but in which nothing of significance with regard to the goal of the movement is happening. It will be instantly objected that the supposed paral-lel is fallacious because of course these couples already have their primary needs for intimacy satisfied else-where, prior to entry into a team. The objection has some merit; certainly the parallel limps. On the other hand, it would be a bit cavalier to dismiss it out of + 4, VOLUME 29, 1970 4. 4. 4. George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 hand simply on those grounds. We must face the fact that when we admit the inadequacies of the parallel we are not thereby justified in ignoring the facets in which it does touch home in spite of its hobbling gait. Nor--more importantly--may we thereby surrepti-. tiously insert the assumption that the religious must of course find his or her admitted needs for intimacy satis-fied within the local cgmmunity. Despite the weak-nesses of the parallel I submit that this notion remains at this point in the case exactly that, just an assump-tion. What are we to say of its value? It occurs to me that we might make a better assessment of it if we pose some specific situations for ourselves. Suppose that a given sister or brother or priest, were to discover that he or she finds it much more pleasant to be with, say, a member of the lay faculty or some parishioner or fellow nurse than with members of the local community. A deep and rich friendship has evolved through sharing important experiences together. There may be several such relationships. The religious may honestly face the fact that he shares a deeper level of friendship with people beyond the community than with those inside ~t. Should this be a disturbing discovery? Should it lead to the conclusion that this religious group ~is only a hollow facade and that honesty dictates a resignation from the group? My own personal answer would have to be negative. If I might take a stab at describing the stages of the re-cent development of community life styles, I would suggest that it has proceeded along the following lines: (1) the "lived" stage mentioned above. There were de facto some rich friendships in religious communities. There was also an explicit doctrine which inculcated fear of any human warmth. The healthy were always able to put this doctrine in psychological brackets and go on about the business of living, which is to say, trying to be human. The less healthy were more crippled by the tradition or, as a perhaps harsher judgment would have it, allowed themselves to be crippled by it. At this stage relationships outside the community were the ultimate no-no. (2) The explicit doctrine was gradually battered down by the new openness to in-sights from the human sciences, if it did not simply crumble from the weight of its own unreality. Friend-ship, warmth, openness became values to be consciously striven after. Rather ironically we rediscovered that fusty old English word "Thou~' (as .in "I-hyphen- Thou"; but never in hymns, pleasel) and eyeball-to-eyeball became the image of the day. But this was all to be within the community--it is no accident that our word "pagan" has as one of its earliest meanings simply "an outsider." And although the explicit doctrine of suspicion of friendship was finished, an unwritten tradition had evolved very quickly, according to which the community where friendship had to be discovered was the local community. In the meantime a third step was taking place, one which deserves a separate paragraph because it repre-sents the present for many religious. Having been con-sciously opened to the value of the human, they discovered that it existed outside the religious group as well. They inevitably began to experience the rise of friendships with persons outside the group. In some communities the explicit tradition quickly adjusted to this new fact by seeing it as a natural consequence of openness to personal relationship and accepted it as a good thing; in others the notion has had a more bumpy ride. For all, the -~ituation became more tense when father or brother or sister found that there were many more inviting people outside than in. The new tradition has created an intolerable bind for many. They are being told in effect (1) that every human being needs some deeply fulfilling human re-lationships, (2) that these should not be fostered out-side the community, or at least (3) that even if outside relationships are acceptable one should be able to reach that same level of intimacy with those religious with whom one happens to live as a result of the need for a teacher of remedial reading---a placement deter-mined by someone who in all probability will not be sharing the local community situation. At this juncture I am not. sure whether I have more .to fear from my. friends than my attackers. I can imagine one group hailing me because I have shown that they were right all along, that all this deep relationship business was exaggerated and all we really have to do to have .community is to be civil. (Sometimes things get so bad in dealing with this mentality that one is almost tempted to agree and settle for that, but civility seems to be one of those things you cannot have all by itself; either we aie going forward to love and warmth or else we are soon back in the cold jungle.) A group .on the opposite side is saying: "Of course that's not what he means. What he's clearly shown is that the only solution is to let everyone choose his or her own local group. Then we' can reduplicate the intimacy of our founding fathers." A third group is made up of the poor harried school,supervisors and provincials, and they are probably muttering in the corner that I have leveled another juvenile a.ttack against that old straw man, the im-personal bureaucratic sturcture, when they have had ÷ 4. ÷ ÷ ÷ 4. George Wilson, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]0 their insides torn out trying to respect the personal needs of individuals in the face of important com-munity commitments. Which means it is time for fixing our position. I am not going back on my stand affirming the importance of warm and deep human relationships for all human beings and therefore for all religious. Nor on the other hand am I convinced that a group of people which has a job to do can simply let its members form all its subgroups on the basis of free association untram-meled by the facts of broader common commitments. And I have the greatest sympathy for those in the com-munity who have the difficult task of reconciling per-sons, pegs, and holes; their service, far from being mere bureaucracy, is generally one of the most excruciatingly personal ones in the whole community. No, our solution lies neither in shrinking back from personal relationships nor in totally free association. I would suggest that the sources for an answer are in two places: in the broader pool of the larger religious community and in the open personal concourse of religious with the outside world they serve. A religious need not feel especially troubled on discovering that there are no close personal friends among those with whom he or she happens to live, provided that some-where in the larger religious group there are those with whom such a relationship exists. And the com-munity should foster the normal means by which such relationships can flourish and grow: the chance to choose vacation partners, freedom to visit and recreate to-gether without the other members of each one's local community feeling slighted, trips within reason (proportioned by the same responsible norms which two lay friends might have to use in making such a decision, such as available funds, other commitments, and so forth). Beyond the incarnated friendships of those in different local communities warm relationships with other men and women outside the community should be expected to arise, be fostered when they do, and be given the normal modes of expression which suit such relationships (if sister has to be home by midnight on a particular occasion, it is not because she is sister but because she is an adult human being with a responsibil-ity to perform as an adult the next morning--and that is something she should be free to discover for her-self by trial and, alas, error). In this way we can ease the impossible demand which has been placed on the local community by the tradition of unreasonable ex-pectations. We will of course still have to be open to growth in the depth of our relationships in the local community. We will have to be on our guard lest the needs of more withdrawn members of the local group go unattended. But paradoxically, it is just possible that we may be better able to meet these basic demands of love on the local scene if we do not expect that scene to fulfill all our human personality needs. All of this might become more acceptable doctrine if we were to examine the normal patterns of mature and healthy individuals-in-community. It is quite natural for the mature adult in our society to func-tion within a wide diversity of social circles simul-taneously, to have his own needs met and to meet the needs of others in a variety of ways and on different levels. This is true even of that most intimate of com-munities constituted by the one-to-one relationship of marriage. The husband lives on one level with his wife, on another in his field of occupation, on still another with a few very close male friends (with whom his wife may or may not be on such close terms), on another with more casual social acquaintances; he may even have a select group with whom his only contact may be a weekly game of handball. The wife's circles will be analogous; in some instances they may range more broadly than his, as for example in the parish or neighborhood. At times their circles will coincide, at times not. They will strive to enlarge the areas they share (which may not necessarily mean that they do the things together; they learn to enrich each other by sharing what they have done separately). But one thing is sure: they know that if they demand even of this re-lationship that it satisfy all their personal needs for intimacy, it will become involuted and shrivel up and die. It is true of the couple; it is true of the family on a different level; and it is true of the individuals in a given local religious community. If we are supposing, then, that a particular religious will not have any really close friend within the group with whom he or she must share years of human life and work, are we not exposing the religious to a frightening risk of loneliness? This very real question brings us to the second area in which it was suggested that we might clarify our thinking, namely, a false understanding of community which may unwittingly be causing a lot of unhealthy departures from religious life. Actually it is really a false understanding of loneli-ness rather than immediately one of community which is at issue; but on a given level these are really correla-tive notions, and our understanding of the meaning of loneliness has its impact on our expectations from com-munity life. The issue was brought home most force-fully to me in a response by Thomas Merton to an ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 ]! George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ']2 interviewer's question, as reported in Motive for Octo-ber,. 1967. The interviewer touched on the issue of celibacy and solitude; and Merton's answer read in part: I think I can say I have experienced levels of loneliness that most people do not allow themselves consciously to admit. From a certain point of view I can say bluntly that to exist as a man without relating to one particular woman-and-person who is "my love," is quite simply a kind of death. But I have enough experience of human love to realize, too, that even within the best of relationships between man and woman this loneliness and death are also terribly present. There are mo-ments in human love in which loneliness is completely tran-scended, but these are brief and deceptive, and they can point 9nly to the further and more difficult place where, ultimately, two lonely and helpless persons elect to save one another from absurdity by being absurd together--and for life (pp. 36-7). This explicitation of the fact that there is a certain kind of loneliness experienced within the most intimate of unions and even in its peak moments can be of in-valuable assistance in clarifying our expectations from religious life in community. Whether we consciously admit it to ourselves or not, we.do tend to interpret the meaning and value of various human experiences by comparing them with expectations from other ways of life. This is a perfectly human process, for man is, after all, a prudential being. But the worth of the process depends on the realism with which we view the two situations. It is my convic-tion that a number of religious have made the decision to leave, religious life on the unhealthy basis of a judgment that the loneliness of religious life would be assuaged by the relationships available in lay, and particularly married, life. It is important to be dear 0n what is being asserted here. It should be evident that there is no criticism of these people intended, and certainly not a condemnation. Nor is there any at-tempt to dispute their assessment that indeed for them life with this particular religious group had become intolerable due to the type of loneliness they actually experienced. What is at issue is the use of a principle according to which religious life itself would involve a loneliness that is unique to it and would therefore be ".solved" by departure from it. This is, I believe, an unreal assumption and any decision based on it is un-healthy because unreal. Clark,Moustakas has written a precious gem of a book .which .should be required reading for all religious in formation. Entitled simply Loneliness (Prentice-Hall ';Spectrum". :paperback), the brief work makes a valuable contribution to our discussion from two points of view. Moustakas first alerts us to the fact that the one word "loneliness" can actually cover two distinct reali-ties. One consists in the experiencing of my fundamental human uniqueness, separateness, and inalienable re-sponsibility for myself and my decisions, and actions. No one can stand in my shoes, no one can do "my thing." This quality of genuinely human experience, which Moustakas .calls existential loneliness, is quite simply a part of being human: Loneliness is as much organic to human existence as the blood is to the heart.~ It is a dimension of human life whether existential, sociologidal, or psychological; whatever its deriva-tives or forms, whatever its history, it is a reality of life. Its fear, evasion, denial, !and the accompanying attempts to escape 'the experience of being lonely will forever isolate the person from his own existerlce, will' afflict and separate him from his own resources so thht there is no development, no creative emergence, no growth in awareness, perceptiveness, sensitivity. If the individual does not exercise his loneliness, one signifi-cant capacity and dimension of being hum~in remains unde-veloped, denied (pp2 When we allow ,ourselves to experience this reality in all its dimensions; we discover that is, is a gomplex phenomenon which includes both the painful acknowl-edgment of our igclination to evade responsibili.ty by leaning on someone else as well as the exhilarating discovery of the Ipower of our deepest self and its capacify for respo.hsible accomplishment.-This kind of loneliness, which belongs to every adult's life, has to be distinguished from ~inottier reality which is call'dd by the same name but is really the anxious fear. of being left alone. Moustakas calls this latter loneliness anxiety: Loneliness anxiety results from a fundamental breach be-tween what one island what one pretends to be, a basic alienation between man and man and between man and his nature (p. 24). Modern man is ;plagued with the vague, diffuse fear of loneliness. He goesI to endless measures, takes devious and circuitous pathways] to avoid facing the experience of being lonely. Perhaps the !loneliness of a" meaningless existence, the absence of values, convictions, beliefs, and fear of isolation are the most terribl~ kind of loneliness anxiety (pp. 26-7). The fact that. twqt.very different realities can go by the same name g~ves r, lse to the question: When a religious laments the loneliness of the religious group and de-cides to resolve ~he tension by separating from the community, tehic~ lcind oI loneliness is he or she at-tempting to resolve? Please note that I am not trying to answer the ques-tion in any particular case. It may very well be that the .individual may have wakened to the very valid realiza-tion 'that life in this particular group does involve such a measure of pretense, superficiality, and meaningless Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 George Wilson, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 forms that he or she is in danger o~ total self-estrange-ment. When there is the concomitant realization that the individual is impotent to do anything about this destructive communal pattern, it may be the better part of valor to shake the dust of this group from one's shoes. (What one in such a case makes of his personal commitment to serve God as a celibate-- which need not be in this community--is a broader question whid~ would take us beyond the scope of this article.) On the other hand, there is the possibility that a person may be unwittingly seeking to evade the existential loneliness which he just happens to be ex-periencing more painfully now than at previous stages of his growth; and this would of course be an impossible quest. This kind of loneliness is just part and parcel of being human; and no change from one community to another, even if the latter is the community of marriage, will change that fact. It might seem that all of this leaves us with a de-pressing prospect: we are going to be lonely come what may. Here Moustakas' second contribution opens vistas unsuspected by the togetherness generation, for he re-minds us of the positive value of the experience of loneliness. Loneliness is a condition of existence which leads to deeper perception, greater awareness and sensitivity, and insights into one's own being. New images, symbols, and ideas spring from the lonely path. The man living his life, accepting all signifi-cant dimensions of human existence is often a tragic man but he is a man who loves life dearly. And out of the pain or loss, the bitter ecstasy of brief knowing and having, comes the glory of a single moment and the creation of a song for joy. In creative loneliness there is an element of separation, of being utterly alone, but there is also a strange kind of related-ness-- to nature and to other persons and through these ex-periences, a relatedness to life itself, to inspiration, wisdom, beauty, simplicity, value. A sense of isolation and solitude is experienced, but a relatedness to the universe is maintained. Only through fundamental relatedness can the individual de-velop his own identity. The individual's loneliness is an ex-perience in growing which leads to differentiation of self. The person's identity comes into relief as he breathes his own spirit into everything he touches, as he relates significantly and openly with others and with the universe. Without any deep and growing roots in the soil of loneli-ness, the individual moves in accordance with external signals. He does not know his place in the world, his position, where he is or who he is. He has lost touch with his own nature, his own spontaneity (p. 50). Paradoxically it is only in the creative experience of our aloneness that we can come to realize the gift which we alone can bring in relatedness to those we love. It is true that only the love of another opens us up to the acceptance of our own worth (a point which must be emphasized to complete the picture, necessarily limited by Moustakas' perspective); but it remains true that the actual experiencing of our unique worth is our own act, one which inevitably isolates us even from the lover who stands outside en-couraging us to seize our own goodness and value, to create our true self: In actualizing one's self, one's aspirations, ideals, and inter-ests, it is often necessary to retreat from the world. One must have strength enough to withstand the temptations which arise when one is completely alone. This does not mean becoming uprooted or alienated. It means accej~ting the existential na-ture of man's loneliness and seeing Its value in the creation of being, in the emergence of self-identity, and in a more fundamental, genuine life. Cast in this light, loneliness be-comes an illuminating experience and it leads to greater heights (p. 50). The Christian should be the first to recognize the deep truth in this phenomenological description. Is it not simply another of the myriad rich forms in which the paschal mystery presents itself? All genuine life is life-through-death. In proclaiming His way Christ was also disclosing the inmost law of human life. The freedom of vocation is not the freedom to evade this law, but the freedom to choose where we will experience it. We may be alone within a religious group or alone alongside a marriage partner or simply alone in the midst of the human crowd. But alone we shall be. Whether this death of aloneness becomes the resurrec-tion of love and relationship is the real issue. That will depend in any case on our willingness to accept the loneliness and in the acceptance to be raised beyond ourselves: Loneliness is as much a reality of life as night and rain and thunder, and it can be lived creativ~ely, as any other experience. So I say, let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness there is also sensitivity, and where there is sensitivity, there is awareness and recognition and promise. Being lonely and being relatedare dimensions of an organic whole, both necessary to the growth of individuality and to the deepening value and enrichment of friendship. Let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness, there also is love, and where there is suffering, there also is joy (p. 103). We all need acceptance and warmth and intimacy. Our religious group should at least make it possible for us to achieve it or else it is not a community at all, much less a Christian one. But the group can no more supply for the painful task of passing through the loneliness of self-acceptance, which is the price of self-transcendence, than could any marriage partner. That cup, and that privilege, is ours. Except that by an awesome mystery Christ has also made it His. + 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 ]5 GERALD~A. McCOOL, S.J. Commitment to One's Institute: A Contemporary Q estion Gerald McCool, S.J., is visiting asso-ciate professor of philosophy at Bos-ton College; Chest-nut Hill, Massa-cusetts 02167. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 The* question whether his institute as it concretely exists retains its right to bind his conscience is no longer a rhetorical one in the mind of many a religious subject. Directors of conscience who have been con-fronted with this question by religious of diverse ages in many different congregations are aware of this fact. They are also aware of their own increasing difficulty in finding satisfactory answers to the problems posed to them by religious concerning the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment to a concrete religious institute which even perpetual vows entail today. The origin of these problems is in part sociological. In-stitutes have changed radically in the past few years, and the rate of change has been uneven. Different groups in the same congregation look on the Church, the world, and religious institutes quite differently and entertain what seem at times irreconcilably diverse hopes for their future. Communal agreement is hard come by, and the unity in life and work which in the past contributed to a religious' sense of peace and se-curity no longer manifests itself on the empirical level. Naturally directors of conscience are not ignorant of the efforts being made by almost every institute to reach agreement on their basic religious and apostolic goals. They have learned during the past few years the im- * This article is a revision of a paper presented at the Seventh Biennial Institute in Pastoral Psychology, held at Fordham Uni-versity, June 16-20, 1969. In its present form it is focused more sharply on the current problem of commitment to one's own institute. The original paper, entitled "The Conscience of the Religious Subject," will appear in the forthcoming volume, Con-science: Its Freedom and Limitations ed. William G. Bier, S.J. (New York: Fordham University, 1970). portance of urging patience and charity on religious of all ages and persuasions. As defection rates increase, however, and morale problems become more grave, even in institutes which are going through the process of renewal, directors are becoming painfully conscious that much more is needed than exhortations to faith and supernatural hope in the future. Too many religious are beginning to question the assumption which under-lies such exhortations--the connection between God's personal call to them and their commitment to their institute. A genuine doubt 'is ~growing in their mind as to whether total commitment to their institute in the traditional sense is the more perfect form of Christian life today. Some may ask indeed whether the form of life led in their institute as it is, or promises to be in the immediate future, represents a truly moral way of living. These questions, of course, have been raised in the past. They recur at every period of trouble, re-newal, and reform in the Church and in religious life.1 That they should recur again today is in itself a cause for neither surprise nor disturbance. What is troubling, however, is the discovery on the part of religious and their directors that trenchant answers to them are so difficult to find. The New Situation in Religious Lile This inability to find a clear and persuasive answer to the contemporary difficulties concerning a religious' commitment to his institute does not come from simple failure of nerve, unimaginitive rigidity, or impatience at the rate of change, although these factors are opera-tive in the present crisis in religious life. It is rather the resultant vector of two forces whose interplay has still to be examined with sufficient care and penetra-tion: (1) the effect of institutional change on a subject's commitment to his institute in a period of open ended ecclesial evolution and (2) the powerful impact upon religious life of the theological pluralism which now exists, and will in all likelihood continue to exist, within the contemporary Church. The interplay of these two forces has created a new situation in religious life in which it is no longer possible for the individual re-ligious subject or his director to determine the nature, value, and obligation of his commitment to his in-stitute and to his fellow religious through a simple x St. Thomas replied to d~fficulties of this sort in his Summa contra Gentiles, III, 130-8. Suarez produced a similar defense at the time of the Counter-Reformation; see William Humphrey, Fran-cisco Suarez: The Religious State. A Digest o] the Doctrine Con-tained in His Treatise "De statu religionis'" (London: Burns and Oates, 1884). Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 application to his individual situation of the theology of the religious life which carried religious safely through the early years of the post-Vatican renewal.2 The existential development of religious life and the rapid evolution of theology have confronted the individual religious with a problem of conscience with which they cannot cope alone. The individual religious and his director require the aid of theologians and the help of their own institutes. And they will receive that help only if firstly institutes and theologians together accept the fact that the early post-Vatican period is over and that a new religious and theological situation is in existence now, and if secondly the institutes, with the careful help of theologians, make clear and definite decisions about their life and work based on an in-telligent commitment to a theology of the religious life which they accept. In the early years of post-Vatican renewal, the director of conscience found in the post-conciliar theology of the religious life a clear grounding of the supernatural value of the life of the counsels and an exposition of the relation of institutional structure to personal vocation. With their help he was able to work out a ~ For the influence of process thought on Catholic philosophy, see Leslie Dewart, The Future o] Belie] (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966) and the stimulating and provocative article of Eugene Fonti-helle, "Religious Truth in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 18 (1967), pp. 283-315. Its influence upon highly respected theologians can be seen in three important articles which appeared recently: Wilhelm Kasper, "Geschichtlichkeit der Dogmen," Stimmen tier Zeit, v. 179 (1967), pp. 401-16; Avery Dulles, "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), 397- 416; and George Vass, "On the Historical Structure of Christian Truth," Heythrop Journal, v. 9 (1968). For the newer approach in moral theology which will affect religious life, see George Curran, Christian Morality Today (Notre Dame: Fides, 1966) and Absolutes in Moral Theology (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). The Catholic theologian whose name is closely associated with the new theology of hope, esehatology, and earthly realities strongly influenced by the independent Marxist philosopher, Ernst Bloch, is Johannes B. Metz; see his Theology o] the World (New York: Herder and Her-der, 1967). These books and articles are simply a random sample of recent publications by serious and influential writers. There is no doubt that we are in a period of rapid and profound theological development. We must realize, however, that the process epistemol-ogy and metaphysics which are winning increasing favor with serious Catholic theologians does not simply call into question the philosophical grounding of the traditional Christian wisdom spir-ituality associated with the names of Augustine, Bonaventure, and Thomas, which underlies so many classics of the spiritual life; it also challenges the epistemological and metaphysical foundations of some of the most influential post-Vatican theology of the religious life, notably that of Karl Rahner. Ignorance of ~his fact can cause woe to an unwary retreat director, especially in communities of younger religious. It can also be a source of trouble for congrega-tions which are rewriting their constitutions. satisfactory understanding of the mutual obligations of subject and institute with which he could handle per-sonal problems of commitment in congregations as they then existed. This theology also enabled him to cope with the personal problems of the early post-conciliar years when many congregations dragged their feet in implementing the Vatican II reforms. It proved a rea-sonably satisfactory instrument for solving the prob-lems of individual religious in the later and more dif-ficult period of communal involvement in renewal in which community division with its consequent fear and hostility became a problem for many institutes. If we simply review the history of those stages in the evolution of religious life we may be able to see why the re-ligious and his director were able to deal with the question of religious commitment as an individual prob-lem then and why it is that today they are no longer able to do so. Post-Vatican Theology: Nature and Value o] Reli-gious Life Post-conciliar theology defended the value of the counsels as an integral part of the Church's eschatologi-cal witness and indicated the role which religious in-stitutions play as visible signs of her holiness,s In doing so it clarified the reasons which justify the renunciation of fundamental human goods through the three vows. It also explained the ecdesial basis for the authorita-tive specification of the religious life in institutes in which a life of rule is lived under the direction of re-ligious superiors. Religious belong to what Karl Rahner has called the charismatic element in the Church. Their conviction that God has called them to follow Christ in the re-ligious life is based on a non-formal process of in-ference which Saint Ignatius has called the discern-ment of spirits. Their decision to follow the divine invitation is freely taken. "Its motive is growth in the service of God and their neighbor and in the intimate union with God which Christian writers from patristic times have called holiness. The renunciation of earthly goods which the vows entail is justified because it is the manifestation of the Church's eschatological faith and hope. Through this renunciation religious institutes give living public witness to the Church's certitude that life's significance does not rest exclusively on the encounter with God in the use of His creation but on the lived 8See Karl Rahner, Theological Investigations, v. 3 (Baltimore: Helicon), pp. 58-104 and SchriIten zur Theologie:. v. 7 (Einsiedeln: Benziger, 1966), pp. 404-79. See also Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spirit (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). ÷ ÷ ÷ Con~mltraent VOLUME 29, 1970 19 4, Gerald A. McCooi, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 hope of an encounter beyond the limits of space and time.4 A religious community in the visible Church is a response to a common charismatic call in which its members participate and which is the supernatural bond of their union. Since that call is given in the Church as a summons to give stable social witness to her holiness and hope, communal life of the counsels acquires visible form in the diverse religious institutes. Thus the interior charism unique to each institute finds the external expression through which it can be thema-tized and communicated; and the interior bond of charity which binds its members to God, to the Church, and to each other receives verbal expression in its con-stitutions.~ Consequently religious vows are not taken in vacuo. They are always taken in a specific institute whose constitutions thematize the charismatic vocation to which each religious commits himself. Through her approval of the constitutions the visible Church commits her-self to the religious as authentic witnesses of her life and hope. On the basis of this theological justification of the nature and value of the religious life, the religious sub-ject at the beginning o[ the post-Vatican renewal was able to set down some general principles for the forma-tion o[ his conscience in relation to his commitment to his institute and to the legitimate demands on him which followed from it. (1) His decision to follow the religious life is morally justified through its public eschatological witness and through its service to God in the life of His Church. Its nature is distorted and its moral value compromised if it degenerates into an irresponsible flight from par-ticipation in the world through fear or dislike of God's creation. From the theology of the free person in the Church it follows that an individual call to manifest her sanctity through the public witness of the counsels should come in every generation to a number of generous Christians. Not only may Christians be religious, some of them should be. (2) Although the constitutions of a religious institute are not identified with its common charismatic call, its inner spirit, and its internal bond of charity, the con-stitutions cannot be separated from them either--a fact * Rahner, Schrilten, v. 7, pp. 404-34. r We notice here the strong similarity between the relation established by Rahner in his spiritual theology between institutional structure and charismatic call and the relation established by St. Ignatius between religious rule and the interior law of charity in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. which Saint Ignatius saw most dearly. The constitutions of an institute are not purely juridical regulations with little or no relation to its interior spirit. They are the medium through which the religious vows can specify and maintain a perduring commitment to a common way of life. Consequently, superiors, in fidelity to God and to the Church, have an obligation to see that they are observed. For, if a way of life is allowed to grow up within an institute which is at variance with the specific manifestation of the. Church's holiness which it has been called to manifest, that institute has lost the supernatural justification for its existence. Thus com-plete freedom to follow individual decisions cannot be permitted to a subject in a religious institute. A Christian called to religious life is called to accept a limitation on his freedom through obedience to his institute and its superiors. ($) Furthermore, since he shares in a common charismatic call which is incorporated in a specific in-stitute, indications of the divine will should ordinarily come to him through his institute and its superiors. Although there can be legitimate conflict at times, it is hard to reconcile a religious vocation with the convic-tion that the subject must make every important decision on his own responsibility and that the moral authority of a religious superior is restricted to his right to offer counsel. As one religious order recently expressed it: "A man who, time after time, is unable to obey with good consdence, should take thought regarding some other path of life in which he can serve God with greater tranquility." 6 The theology of the religious life which flourished after the Council not only gave the religious subject a dearer picture of the nature and value of the religious life than he had previously possessed; it also provided him with the principles through which a number of the problems arising from the conflict between obedi-ence and his moral conscience could find an answer. A proper understanding of the theology of the religious life made it clear not only that the constitutions of an insitute specified the obligation of the subject but that they also specified and restricted the legitimate authority of his superior. Superiors may rule only in accordance with the constitutions; and, in an institute whose reason for existence is to manifest the Church's sanctity and supernatural hope, they must rule religiously. Through his vows the subject has acquired a claim upon the conscience of his superior. For he has received a per-sonal call from God to a life of individual witness and Society of Jesus, Documents of the Thirty.First General Congre-gation (Woodstock, Md.: Woodstock College, 1967), p. 55. 4. Commitment VOLUME. 29, 1970 21 + 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS service within a specific community. Not all of the de-mands which God makes on him can be determined by following uncritically in a quasi-automatic way the gen-eral orders of superiors. A number must be determined in-dividually by the discernment of spirits. Since the subject's vocation has been entrusted to his institute, he has the right to the personal direction and understanding of his superior in his efforts to discover God's personal will for him. The superior in turn has the inescapable obligation to provide it, and to provide it as a religious superior and not as the director of a secular enterprise. Further-more, a religious institute is a community of free in-dividuals within a visible Church to which they have a definite responsibility. God will inspire them through thoughts and desires to move their institute to greater service to His Mystical Body. As they are bound to communicate these thoughts and desires to their superiors, superiors, because of their responsibility to their institute and to the Church, are bound to listen to their subjects and to consult them individually and collectively. The "Relectant'" Stage oI Post-Vatican Renewal In the period immediately after Vatican II these principles were not the commonplaces they have long since become. Older religious can still recall the thrill of their discovery through personal reading or through the conferences of retreat masters. Government at that time often left much to be desired in many a religious institute. Superiors, who were at times quite ignorant of the theology of the religious life, ruled impersonally and on occasion gave the impression of a political mode of action which did not show the proper regard for the rights of the subject and the true interests of the universal Church. The problems of conscience which this mode of government created for intelligent, sensitive, and far-seeing religious are too well known to call for repetition here3 Nonetheless the informed religious subject or his di-rector felt that they could chart a reasonably clear course of action through which a subject could fulfill his personal call to genuine Christian life and activity in true commitment to his institute. Most of .the problems of that time, after all, were simply the result of a subject's living in an institute whose life and government were not in accord with the approved theology of the religious life. Subjects who were equipped to do so would work for the reform of their 7 For a well documented and frank account of these problems, see Robert W. Gleason, The Restless Religiou~ (Dayton: Pflaum, 1968). institutes through personal action. Others, while wait-ing [or the coming reform of their institute, could fre-quently solve their problems by using the principles of traditional moral theology concerning the reaction of a subject to an unjust command. Difficult as this period was psychologically, it was not a period in which the religious subject necessarily felt discouragement about the ability of the approved theology of the religious life to solve his present problems and bring about the eventual renewal of his institute. The Period o[ Rapid Evolution and Renewal After this initial period of hesitation and resistance, religious institutes entered into the general movement of renewal and reform to which each congregation was asked to contribute through a revision of its consti-tutions. As it proceeded, that task proved more diffi-cult than most religious anticipated that it would be. It was at that period that the beginnings of the present question of the commitment of the religious to his institute began to manifest itself. Once a movement of evolution and reform gets under way, commitment to the existing constitutions of an institute becomes provisional. It is---or was--assumed that in their re-vised form they will be a more exact expression of the present charismatic call which God is now addressing to the institute. Yet, since the constitutions specify the common commitment of the subjects to the insti-tute and to each other, their sudden mobility, after a long period of stability, has affected the bond of union in the evolving communities. Problems now arise in the conscience of the religious concerning his relation to his community and his fellow religious which were not there before. When the post-Vatican reform began it was rather generally agreed that the period of communal discern-ment of spirits would reach its consummation in a renewed institute to whose revised constitutions the individual subjects could commit themselves with peace of soul. But in a changing world and in a changing Church, who can say when the period of evolution will come to an even relative rest? And now that we are learning to think of God and His revelation in terms of process and event rather than of substance and stable judgment, can we any longer feel that stable constitu-tions are any longer desirable or even possible? Does not that make any set of constitutions provisory and relative? Furthermore, discernment of spirits is not an automatic process whose success is guaranteed. It is a delicate work of grace. Human resistance, weakness, and obtuseness can prevent it or delay it until the 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 4" "4" Gerald A. McCool, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "~4 kairos, the providential time allowed by God, has passed. Religious, both subjects and superiors, who are con-cerned with changes in the life and work of their institute know very well that the movement of renewal, like every human movement, is not the outcome of a simple impulse of the Holy Spirit but the resultant vec-tor of multiple and complicated forces. Secular ideas and desires are in the heart of every man. Worldliness and spiritual blindness will make their contribution to the movement too. That is why the process is called the discernment of spirits, and that is why, like every discernment of spirits, it is a risky business. In the process of discernment of spirits whose term is still undefined, an ambiguous situation is created concerning the very nature of the life to which the mem-bers of the institute have given their vowed commit-ment. If the present constitutions are to undergo revision, perhaps indefinitely, what is the subject's com-mitment to them in their actual form? If the institute should take a wrong turn or miss its kairos, what will be his commitment to the constitutions in the future? It would appear that the religious subject is invited to enter upon an indefinite process of judging his institute in its fidelity to the call of grace and that his individual judgment will have a radical effect upon his commit-ment. It is not surprising, therefore, that uncertainty about their future commitment to their institute has begun to trouble the consciences of many religious and that divergent hopes and fears concerning the form of its future life and work make them perplexed over the attitude which they are called to take in relation to their superiors and fellow subjects. At a time when the future of his institute is undefined, when should a superior or a fellow subject be deferred to as a religious who is exercising under grace his authentic call as a prophetic leader and when must he be resolutely and uncompromisingly opposed as a traitor to the institute? In what does loyal commitment to one's institute con-sist at the present time? What is charity, and what is selfish cowardly silence for the sake of peace and per-sonal survival? These are the difficult questions which the director of conscience is asked to solve time after time. The task of aiding the religious subject to discern the movement of the Spirit from the distorting influences of human infidelity, complacency, and weakness has been complicated by the rapid evolution of theology in the post-conciliar Church. The theology of the Church, of revelation, of grace and nature, has been the subject of considerable, and sometimes turbulent, debate dur-ing the past few years. The consequence has been a renewed discussion concerning the nature of Christian holiness, the force and duration of the vows, and the value of the witness of the counsels in their tradi-tional institutional form. This lively discussion cannot fail to call into question the fundamental understand-ing of the religious life which is taken for granted by many sets of constitutions. More may be involved than simple adaptation and renewal. Perhaps radical and total revision may be called for in the light of a newer theological understanding of the religious life. Should that be the case, what then becomes the status of loyal commitment to the constitutions of one's holy founder? Nevertheless, working on the principles of classical post-Vatican theology, the director of conscience felt until fairly recently that he was in a position to guide a religious toward the solution of his problems about commitment to a divided and changing institute. Since the Church had invited religious institutes to reform their constitutions, it was a safe assumption that many of them were no longer adequate expressions of the community's charismatic call. Furthermore, since com-munal discussion on various levels was the recom-mended means, there were good prima facie grounds for the assumption that the interplay of different points of view would be the means employed by the Holy Spirit to manifest the form of life and work to which the institute should now commit itself. Classical post-Vati-can theology also gave the reason why this process could be expected to lead to radical changes in some insti-tutes, s The type of religious life suited to monastic-contemplative communities is very different from that demanded by an active-apostolic group. The order and form of life and prayer, the religious virtues re-quired of subjects, the relationship between subject and superior differ widely in these two types of institutes. In the past this essential difference was not sufficiently appreciated, and active congregations, especially of women, received a set of constitutions which were not suited to their active life. In such groups we could an-ticipate great changes. Likewise we would expect that at a period in which the secular institute is coming into its own some institutes or groups within existing institutes would be moved by the Holy Spirit to adopt this form of life for their active apostolate. Church historians during the post-Vatican period of renewal reminded religious and their directors that ~ Orsy, op. cit., pp. ÷ 4- 4. ¢o~t VOLUME 29, 1970 25 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS movements of renewal and reform within religious groups were often the result of the work of charismatic leaders. And often the prophetic action of such leaders led to dissension and ultimate division in their own institutes. The work of the Spirit can be accomplished through bitter disagreement and ultimate division of groups which were once united. This was true of the divisions among the Franciscans and the Carmelites. It was true in the United States when the Paulists seceded from the Redemptorists to form a new congregation. On the basis of these historical and theological con-siderations, which are quite familiar to anyone who has even a general acquaintance with the post-conciliar literature, directors of conscience were able to derive a number of principles to handle problems of religious commitment in divided and evolving institutes. These prindples, which worked successfully and still retain a good deal of their validity, can be summed up as fol-lows. (I) Since it is not inconceivable that the interplay of conflicting hopes and fears which divide an institute may be destined by God to lead either to a painful but providentially destined division or to a dearer under-standing of the future form of life to which a united institute can commit itself, the individual religious sub-ject cannot deny in an a priori way that in the same congregation commitment to the institute and corre-spondence to their special grace may reveal itself in dif-ferent subjects through fundamentally different orienta-tions. Whatever may be the consequence which God ultimately intends, these diverse hopes and fears can be a faithful answer to a charismatic call which, for the moment, remains a common one. If they should lead to an ultimate division, the new institutes will be re-lated to each other through their origin in grace. They will be filial or sister institutes. (2) Therefore the individual religious subjects who find themselves in such an evolving situation are still united by the bond of fraternal charity and justice. Each is still called upon to contribute in the measure of his ability to the clarification of the future options which are emerging now. (3) Meanwhile the subject remains under the obedi-ence of the institute through whose constitutions his vocation is specified at the present time. Its rule, its superiors, and his fellow subjects retain the claim on him conceded to them by his vows. Since its mem-bers are being led to their future vocation through their present institute, ways of acting or of withdrawal from common activity which violate the justice and charity he owes them are not permitted to him. The New Situation in Religious LiIe Today, however, the director of conscience is begin-ning to wonder if it is safe for him to handle individual difficulties about religious commitment on the basis of these general principles. In the first place they are based on the theology of the religious life which is associated with the Constitution on the Church and the Decree on the Renewal o] the Religious Li]e for which he could once assume general acceptance among religious. In terms of that theology religious life is justified on the basis of its witness to the sanctity and eschatological hope of the visible Church. In the second place they rested on the assumption that unless there was striking evidence to the contrary each institute was passing through its providential kairos and was being led by God to its providential renewal or division. In the third place they took for granted that, unless clear evidence to the contrary existed, each religious could be assumed to have given a stable commitment to his institute and to his fellow religious, the nature and extent of which was given accurate expression through the constitutions. On the basis of that commitment, a supernatural bond existed among the members of the congregation. They were a family, a society within the Church with all the rights and expectations which membership within such a family entailed. It is becoming increasingly difficult for the religious subject or his director to make these assumptions as confidently as he did in the past; and if they cannot be made, the whole context within which problems dealing with religious commitment must be solved has been changed. There are many reasons for their present difficulty. To begin with, it is no secret that the movement of renewal is not going well. The defection figures are becoming alarming. Many religious, rightly or wrongly, seem to have reached the conclusion that in the movement of reform their institute has missed its kairos. Either it has failed to yield in time to the move-ment of the Spirit or it has yielded too much to the spirit of the world. In any event, these religious have decided that the form of life and work prescribed by their institute is no longer the way in which they can do the most for God. Other religious have withdrawn interiorly and made no secret of their withdrawal. Even though they remain within .the institute, they are alien-ated from it and leave their fellow religious uncertain about the depth, extent, and duration of their com-mitment to it. The longer the present unhappy stage of renewal continues with its increasing number of ÷ ÷ ÷ ~omm~ment VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ + 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS defections and interior withdrawals, the greater will be the uncertainty of the religious subject concerning the commitment of his fellow subjects and even of his su-periors. And, if he can no longer be certain that their actions are proceeding from commitment to the insti-tute. how should be behave toward them? Should he continue to deal with them in all simplicity as fellow religious? Or should he be prudent and follow the ordinary rules of political morality? Furthermore this disturbing ambiguity concerning his fellow religious' commitment to the institute does not come simply from ignorance of the judgment which they have made, perhaps definitively, about its [actual state. It also comes from uncertainty about the norm which they are using to measure its spiritual health and prospects for the future. Increasing theological di-versity, legitimate enough and even necessary within the larger body of the Church, is beginning to lead to di-versity among the members of the same institute con-cerning the nature and end of the religious life, the virtues which should characterize religious, the hope to which they witness, and the extent and duration of the commitment which they make to the community and consequently to each other through the three vows. That such diversity exists today among the mem-bers of religious groups is clear enough to anyone who has been engaged in the work of religious renewal. Often it lies beneath the surface, dividing religious who are not yet fully conscious of the depth and extent of their division. It shows itself, however, in retreats, in discussions, and in reflections about the formation of religious when different conclusions flow from dif-fering presuppositions which should be analyzed and clarified. Consequently, for many a religious subject his in-stitute has become a very unstable community. He has the uneasy feeling that its constitutions in their present form, even after their revision, and the style of life and work which its superiors prescribe or permit, through uncertainty, expediency, or a genuine desire to "paper over differences" for the sake of peace, no longer ac-curately express the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment which many of his fellow religious are making in reality to his institute in its actual, concrete form. Yet the commitment of his fellow religious creates the bond which makes the institute a living reality. Its duration makes the community a stable family; the depth, extent, and primacy which it occupies in a religious' life determines the depth and breadth of his association with his community and the priority which that association holds among the other commitments, professional and social, in his life. A notable change in the commitment of a significant number of individ-ual religious cannot fail to modify the nature of their institute. Thus, after a certain limit, ambiguity about the object, depth, and duration of its subjects' present commitment places the real nature of their institute in doubt. This doubt in turn creates a second doubt in the mind of the individual subject about his own obli-gation to the organization as it presently exists in the real order, and this doubt cannot fail to afl~ect his own commitment. Obviously this is an escalating process which, ultimately, can lead to a major change in an institute or even to its destruction. This agonizing doubt about the real nature of his institute today as a result of the change in the commit-ment of his fellow religious is the new problem of commitment which is troubling the peace and under-mining the vocation of many religious who weathered the storms of the earlier periods of renewal quite success-fully. This time, however, neither he nor his director can solve the problem by themselves with the resources which they now possess. The nub of the problem is a doubt which the religious cannot resolve himself. Since he cannot read hearts, he must be able to as-sume with reasonable probability that the vows as they are specified in his institute accurately express a genuine and stable union of minds and wills among its subjects. If he cannot make that assumption, he does not know what it is to which he has pledged him-self through his commitment to his community. Neither does he know what communal support, natural and supernatural, he may expect in return. Need to Eliminate Ambiguity To eliminate this ambiguity, or at least to reduce it to the proportions which are compatible with the existence of a viable religious community, existing in-stitutes, especially the larger ones, will have to confront more clearly, and perhaps more courageously than they have done so far, its two major sources: the uncertain relation between their constitutions and the genuine commitment of their subjects and the unanalyzed re-lation between their constitutions and the theology of the religious life on which they rest. Some institutes will be asked to examine more honestly their present state. Does their religious life as it is actually lived conform to the ideal which their institute proclaims? Prolonged compromise and delay of genuine renewal, even for apostolic and economic reasons, inevitably lead to ambiguity concerning the real commitment re-quired of a subject in the institute and can easily lead 4- 4- 4" Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 29 4. 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS today to discouraged alienation among the young and generous. Other communities are being asked to ex-amine more carefully whether they are called to lead a contemplative or active-apostolic life. Although they are different vocations, both are viable. Is it not possible that in some institutes a division into separate groups following each of these vocations might be a healthy, and perhaps a necessary thing?9 Theological Pluralism and the Constitutions Because of the increasing theological diversity which is already affecting the Church of the present and which will mark the Church of the future even more pro-foundly, it will be necessary for each institute to clarify the theological suppositions which justify its basic choice of life and work. The development of philosophy and theology within the Church, the ihfluence of process philosophy and theology upon Catholic understanding of ecclesiastical structures and the formulation of doctrine, the impact of a newer understanding of the relation of grace and nature, of eschatology and earthly values upon Catholic understanding of the spiritual life have had their effect on religious' attitudes toward prayer, penance, action, contemplation, and service of the Church. That there is a diversity on many of these topics and that such diversity will continue is a fact that we must accept. That there will be and should be a much greater range of free opinions in the Church of the future is a position which most theologians accept today. And if such diversity means, as it seems it does, diverse understandings of the nature and value of re-ligious life, this is a fact which we must accept and whose implications we must analyze. When diverse theological opinions become free in the Church the right to live one's life in the light of them must be respected. If they are solid enough to base the commitment of a total life, the legitimacy of a religious institute based on them can hardly be denied. If, on the other hand, the solidity of opposed theological opinions remains strong enough to ground the commitment of a total Christian life, the legiti-macy of a religious institute grounded on them cannot be questioned either. Thus we may find in all likeli-hood that there will be in the Catholic Church re-ligious living accordingly to theologically diverse under-standings of the religious life. What would not make sense, however, is that they should be endeavoring to do so in the same institute. For it is difficult to under-o For a provocative discussion of this point, see Felix Cardegna, "Future Forms of Religious Life," Catholic Mind, v. 66, (1968), pp. 9-13. stand how constitutions embodying one fundamental conception of the religious life could thematize a com-mitment to an opposed one. Such constitutions would be simply a juridical form concealing basic differences. They could not be the vital expression of communal witness and spiritual unity. Consequently religious congregations, especially the larger ones which have the resources to do so, must examine very soon the theological presuppositions which lie at the basis of their constitutions. Do their con-stitutions express a conception of the religious life which is still viable and to which they wish to give the witness of their lives? I[ not, then they must change the constitutions, even though they express the dearest thought of the holy founder. If so, then they must spell out their fundamental theological position.s, even though there may be other opposed positions which are now free within the Church. If this is done, the individual subject will have a chance to see what it is to which the institute commits itself and to judge whether or not he wishes to make the same commitment. Retreat directors will have a better chance to help individual religious in their endeavor to find the will of God and novice masters will be in a better position to give solid answers to the reasonable questions of the young. This will not be an easy task. It will take openness, skill, and the employment of the best theological talent which a congregation has at its disposal. Its urgency, however, is becoming more apparent every day and we may anticipate that before long the general chapters and congregations of the larger congregations will be obliged to address themselves to it. 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 SISTER M. TERESANTA RYS, C.S.F.N Recreation, and Relaxation in Religious Life ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta writes from Marian Heights; 1428 Mon-roe Turnpike; Mon-roe, Connecticut 06468. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Psalmist says: "Have leisure and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). Recreation and relaxation presuppose leisure time. The term leisure will be used repeatedly in this paper and hence must be defined. The concept of leisure cannot be expressed in simple synonymous terms. To do so would be to risk misinterpretation. The explanation of the con-cept will form the introduction to this paper. Leisure, it must be clearly understood, is a mental and spiritual attitude--it is not simply the result of external fac-tors, it is not the inevitable result of spare time, a holiday, a weekend, or a vacation. It is, in the first place, an attitude of the mind, a condition of the soul, and as such is utterly contrary to the ideal of "worker" in each and every one of the three as-pects under which it was analysed: work as activity, as toil, as a social function. Leisure is a form of silence, of that silence which is a pre-requisite to the apprehension of reality: only the silent hear, and those who do not remain silent do not hear.leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude, and it is not only the occasion but also the capacity for steeping one-sell in the whole of creation. - Leisure is not the attitude o[ mind o[ those who actively intervene, but o[ those who are open to everything? From the outset it can be seen that leisure is meant to lead us to God. This is not to imply that time, activities, and negative aspects as off-duty time and non-work activi-ties are not related to leisure.2 But these are not of its essence. Regarding the elements of time and activity, ". 1Josef Pieper, Leisure the Basis ol C, ulture, trans, by Alexander Dru (New York: New American Library, 1963), pp. 40-1. a See Roll B. Meyersohn, "Americans Off Duty," in Free Time: Challenge o] Later Maturity, ed. Wilma Donahue and others (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1958), pp. 45-6. leisure is unobligated time which can be spent in any way one wishes. It is supposed to be refreshing, diverting, and enriching, and what set of activities provides for such qualities is to be a matter of personal taste." s Philosophers, spiritual writers, and psychologists throughout the ages have acknowledged the predomi-nance of the divine motive in leisure, but at the same time they have emphasized the physical benefits as well. Plato, for instance, says: But the Gods, taking pity on mankind, born to work, laid down the succession of recurring feasts to restore them from their fatigue, and gave them the Muses, and Apollo their leader, and Dionysus, as companions in their feasts, so that nourish-ing themselves in festive companionship with the Gods, they should again stand upright an~erect.' One author paraphrased Thomas Aquinas' position on leisure by stating that the man who reasons and contem-plates "must occasionally relax the tension of reason by resting the soul. This rest of the soul is a form of pleasure.''5 Currently, Father Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., notes that man is a composite being--body, soul, mind, emotions. These work as a unity. Just as a body has need of refreshment, the emotions and mind need it, too. This refreshment they get from recreation.6 Because the world in which we live places so much value on work and activity, many persons, including religious, determine the worth of an individual by how much and how well she produces. Whatever is done must have a utilitarian purpose or it is worthless. The individual be-comes a functionary. This, in spite of the fact expressed by Alexander Reid Martin: So the poets and philosophers for thousands of years have agreed upon the supreme importance of leisure. But modern man apparently cannot avail himself of this blessing. With more leisure time available, there is a lessening capacity to en-joy it and to use it creatively and constructively. Modern man finds that he cannot relax to order.7 As religious who are pressed for time, zealous to do all we can to further God's glory through our various apostolates, we must beware of the fallacy of overwork. Throughout the Christian centuries we have become imbued with the idea that work is noble and good, and that it is through work that we will help achieve our sal-vation. Many of us have, as stated, accepted the fallacy of 8 Ibid., p. 48. ' Plato as cited by Pieper, Leisure, p. 19. ~ e Father Emmanuel, O.C.D., "The Need of Relaxation," Spiritual LiIe, v. 7 (1961), p. 222. ~ See Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., "Recreation in the Religious Life," Acta Records (Chicago: Acta Foundation, 1964). 7Alexander R. Martin, "The Fear of Relaxation and Leisure," American Journal o] Psychoanalysis, v. I1 (1951), p. 45. 4" VOLUME 29, 1970 + + 4. Siste~ Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the worth of an individual based on her ability to work. We have allowed ourselves to believe that unless we are occupied, we are wasting our time, we are allowing our-selves to be idle, and idleness is a breeding ground for the devil's wiles. Even our recreations have taken on a functionary air--the knitting to be done, the stockings to be darned, the papers to be corrected--all, so that we wouldn't waste timel Sixty years ago, Bishop John L. Spalding noted: We are too busy, we do too much. And the temper our rest-less activity creates makes us incapable of leisure, which is the end of work. The man is worth, not what his work is worth, but what his leisure is worth. By his work he gains a livelihood, but his leisure is given him that he may learn how to live, that he may acquire a taste for the best things, may acquaint himself with what is truest and most beautiful in literature and art, in science and religion, may find himself, not chiefly in the nar-row circles of his private interests, but in the wide world of noble thought and generous emotion? (emphasis added) There are some people who feel that leisure must be justified, for example, we relax or take recreation in order to work more efficiently or in order to restore our strength and energy. This is to revert to pragmatism. Joseph Pieper, a philosopher of our day, notes that how-ever much a person may restore health and energy through leisure, this is not primary, because leisure, like contem-plation, is of a higher order than the active life, and this order cannot be reversed. No one who looks to leisure simply to restore physical, mental, or spiritual powers, will ever enjoy the real fruits of it. He states: The point and justification of leisure are not that the func-tionary should function faultlessly and without a breakdown, but that the functionary should continue to be a man --and that means that-he should not be absorbed in the clear-cut milieu of his strictly limited function; the point is also that he should retain the faculty of grasping the world as a whole and realizing his full potentialities as an entity meant to reach wholeness? The philosopher elaborates this point and states that celebration is the soul of leisure and that since it is so, the justification and possibility of leisure is the same as that of celebration of a festival--and that basis is divine worship.1° The history of religions concurs in this judge-ment: whether in the days of Greece and Rome or in the Christian era, the "day of rest" was a day reserved for divine worship. This time was withdrawn from any specif-ically utilitarian ends: Separated from the sphere of divine worship, the cult o| the s Bishop John L. Spalding, "Work and Leisure," Spiritual Lile, v. 10 (1964), p. 78. ~ Pieper, Leisure, p. 44. lo See ibid., p. 56. divine, and from the power it radiates, leisure is as impossible as the celebration of a feast. Cut off from the worship of the divine, leisure becomes laziness and work inhuman. The vacancy left by absence of worship is filled by mere kill-ing of time and by boredom, which is related to inability to enjoy leisure; for one can only be bored if the spiritual power to be leisurely has been lost.~ Fear of Relaxation Before proceeding to the practical application of the above stated principles, it may be well to examine more specifically why religious tend to have what amounts to a fear of relaxation and recreation, why they tend to be so utilitarian in their outlooks. Many pre-Vatican II constitutions, in the chapters deal-ing with recreation, did stress the importance of partici-pation. Many encouraged religious to occupy themselves with handiwork, which supposedly gave them a sense of satisfaction in contributing to the common good even dur-ing hours of recreation (as though their conversations, their interest in fellow religious were not a form of contributing to the common good). One may ask how a person could give undivided attention to another when she was busy darning or embroidering? Father Kevin O'Rourke notes that individual religious must contrib-ute to community recreation--it is a time of giving our-selves to others and hence an obligation in charity,x2 Although the Vatican Council did not say a great deal about the recreation of religious as such, it did note in the Decree on the Ministry and Life o[ Priests that they should "readily and joyfully gather together for recreation." 13 And Pope Paul, in Ecctesiae sanctae, ex-plaining Per[ectae caritatis, notes that with regard to the order of the day: "Religious. should also have some periods to themselves and be able to enjoy suitable recrea-tion." 14 Nevertheless, it must be admitted that our novitiate training, the customs of communities, and the consti-tutions have taken their toll regarding attitudes toward recreation and relaxation. Because of these influences, many religious experience guilt feelings regarding the use of leisure: When we are not busy, we feel guilty. We are torn between hours spent efficiently organizing our lives and the minutes we set aside to waste. For many regard recreation as a waste of time ÷ and have devised ways of relaxing while washing the car or en- + 4. u Ibid., p. 59. ~ O'Rourke, "Recreation." ~ Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents o! Fatican H (New York: Guild Press, 1966), p. 551. "Paul VI, ~tpostolic Letter Ecclesiae Sanctae (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1966), p. 34. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1~70 35 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gaging in strenuous exercise. Indeed we are still men who lead lives of quiet desperation. Perhaps I should feel guilty not because I have done too little but because I have tried to do too much. Unlike the poet, I have been so busy that I have lost my playful sense of wonder. I have forgotten to accept myself as I am and have been driven to exhaustion by futile strivings to be someone else. That is why I cannotpray, forprayer involves, a turning of my whole being toward the Lord~(emphas|s added). Some people can rest and relax on holidays and during rest periods set aside for this purpose, only when they are told to do so. They cannot permit themselves to stop, bu~ rely 'on outside authority--they are victims of a com-pulsive, authoritative regime, which can be either inner or outer or both. "In any case, a system of bargaining develops. Work and play become part of a reward and punishment philosophy. Rest is something that has to be earned. All of this smacks of a philosophy dominated by a God of vengeance Of the Old Testament and not of the God of mercy of the New Testament." 10 Some individuals relax only when they have some physical illness, because then they feel justified. The problem of retirement is closely allied to this. Some persons refuse to give up, because they feel they are letting the community down. When they are all but forced to retire, there may follow a rapid disintegration of the whole personality--organic, emotional, intellectual, and moral, because the person's phil6sophy of life prohibited true, healthy relaxation and the creative use of leisure time.17 To return to generalities, there always exists the dan-ger of allowing the sister's work to dominate her life; this isespecially true when she likes the work she is engaged in. Everything is controlled by the task to be performed--even when she recreates, she does so in order to function more effectively, and recreation otherwise becomes meaningless (as does prayer, incidentally). Be-fore long, her specialty pervades every aspect of her life, and she becomes enslaved to one view. Such a sister must take care to place work in its prdper perspective in the totality of her religious life. Work may lead us to God, but it may also distract us from Him. To maintain this proper perspective, prayer and meditation are essential,is Those who tend to be busybodies would also do well to recall a study made by E. D. Hutchinson on the bio-graphical data of many creative minds--poets, authors, composers, and so forth. He found . that the experience of sudden creative insight never oc- ~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 114-5. Martin, Fear of Relaxation, pp. 43-4. See ibid., p. 44. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 116-7. curred during the peak of mental effort, but always during a period of relaxation . in general, Hutchinson f,o, und that following a long period of what he calls "obsessional preoccu-pation with a problem, during which nothing was accomplished and there was considerable frustration, the creative thinker relinquished the problem completely. After he had relinquished this compulsive preoccupation for a period of weeks or months, the whole answer would come to him out of the blue. Hutch-inson calls this period of relaxation the period of renunciation of the problem.~ Scripture supports this contention: "The wisdom of the scribe cometh by his time of leisure; and he that is less in action, shall receive wisdom" (Sir 38:25). The pejorative significance of the inability to be leisurely and to relax is also impressed on the person's inability to rest, even in sleep. Some people feel they always have full command of their senses, which causes tension. When sleep is related to this compulsive feeling of having to be alert, it surely cannot be a means of re-laxation. It may also be pointed out that the fear of relaxation is typical of people who are unwilling to depend on others for anything--their independence becomes compulsive, and it is sometimes paraded as the virtue of self-reliance or .individuality. Such compulsive independence is indi-cative of self-distrust, actually, and of the inability to truly relax because of the imminence of intense emo-tional conflicts,a0 Those who feel that they must always be busy in some "useful" activity are the ones who subscribe to the idea expressed in the saying: "Satan finds mischief for idle hands to do." The idea of keeping busy to keep out of trouble expresses it similarly. This attitude shows itself in the person's inability to play and to ~,ork in a leisurely way. Again, those who are dependent upon a fixed routine or schedule indicate the presence of internal conflicts. The routine is self-imposed and they either comply or defy it, but they are not free. Hence, they. are unable to truly relax and use leisure time creatively. To them, leisure is always freedom [torn something, not freedom [or something.21 Such persons put themselves into straigh~ jackets and do not want to be free, to act on their own, because in doing so, they set inner conflicts into motion. Leisureliness in Work Binding ourselves to work is binding ourselves to a utilitarian process in which our needs are satisfied. Our whole lives are consumed by this process. We must ask ~Martin, Fear o[ Relaxation, p. 44. ~See ibid., p. 46. ~See ibid., p. 48. 4. + 4. Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~8 and answer the question: What causes a person to be so bound, and how can she free herself? Joseph Pieper an-swers: . to be tied to the process of work may be ultimately due to inner impoverishment of the individual: in this context everyone whose life is completely filled by his work (in the special sense of the word work) is a proletarian because his life has shrunk inwardly, and contracted, with the result that he can no longer act significantly outside his work and perhaps can no longer conceive of such a thing~ (emphasis added). And now, what can be done about the problem? Much, of course, depends upon the willingness of the individual to admit to herself that she is so addicted, to whatever de-gree. Without this admission, there can be no cure. Once this is made, the individual must enlarge the range of interests she has. She must learn to make leisureliness a part of her life and not limit herself only to work-related interests. But "the provision for an external opportunity for leisure is not enough; it can only be fruitful if the man himself is capable of leisure, and can, as we say, 'Occupy his leisure' or. 'work his leisure'." ua Of course, it does little good to tell a person, or for a person to tell herself, that she must not have guilt feelings or fear of relaxation. There must take place concrete efforts at relaxation and recreation--the way to develop a sense of leisure is to be leisurely. Initially, the guilt feelings will remain and may, indeed, occasion more guilt and fear. But it is only in repeated efforts and with the encouragement of someone who appreciates the value of recreation ". that I can hopefully come to appreciate the need for worthwhile recreation to sustain the religious values upon which I have grounded my life." ~4 When one is able to recreate well, one is able to pray and work well. A well-balanced, mature personality will be the conse-quence. Finally, "when the individual is able to say and to feel that convention, schedule or routine is his slave, then the compulsive needs to defy, comply, or rebel do not arise, and healthy relaxation and leisure become possible." :5 Prayer and Education Throughout this paper thus far, it has been stated that leisure is a spiritual attitude, that leisure is of a higher sphere than activity, that leisure is justified by divine worship, and that prayer is necessary to maintain a proper balance between work and leisure. It would seem from this that leisure is closely related to our prayer life. Per- Pieper, Leisure, pp. 50-1. Ibid., pp. 54-5. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 117. Martin, Fear o/Relaxation, p. 48. haps as religious we ought to delve more deeply into this aspect of leisure. "Prayer requires leisure, and it ought to become our leisure." ~0 Again, this presupposes that we know what leisure is. Here especially we should note that neither prayer nor leisure are utilitarian. Both prayer and leisure are those times when we need not try, but simply be hu-man, as perfectly human as possible.27 During these times we can simply be ourselves, and not be striving to be someone else, or to be striving to measure up to some goal. Forcing artificial prayers into our minds is not praying in a leisurely way. We must learn to allow the Holy Spirit to pray in us as He wills. Prayer affords us with the opportunity to get rid of preoccupations. Simply going over the day or some plans, while keeping in mind that these are for the Lord, consti-tutes prayer, and is an excellent means of banishing pre-occupations. Preoccupation with work, recall, leads to compulsive action and an inability to be leisurely; by the same token, it leads to an inability to pray: "Activism and its roots are as much in a lack of leisure as a lack of prayer." ~s Accepting prayer as leisure will help us to relieve our daily tensions; but this can be only if we do not regard leisure and prayer as a duty or as a means of relieving ten-sion. By just praying or recreating, we ease tension. And, of course, this will redound to the benefit of the commu-nity in which we live. Carrying the idea of prayer as leisure a step further, we can see a relationship between a Mass and a commu-nity recreation well celebrated. For in the Mass there is a dialogue between God and His people. There is commu-nication. Now, recreation to be really recreative must involve communication, too: "It is not stretching a point to see community recreation as the extension and fruit of the festive dialogue of the Mass; in itself it has something of the nature of a ritual and might indeed be considered a sacramental for community." .oa So, if we personalize the community recreation, if we "celebrate" it in a leisurely way, we are preparing ourselves for a personalized celebra-tion of Mass. It was noted that the task of education is to help in-dividuals to an awareness and appreciation of what is best in our culture, because in doing so, we are aiding them in acting more perfectly human. Some authors question -~ David B. Burrell, C.S.C., "Prayer as Leisure," Sisters Today, v. 37 (1965-6), p. 410. ~See the re[erences first given in notes 1, 15, 26. = Burrell, "Prayer as Leisure," p. 413. n Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C., "Community Exercises in Religious Life," REvmw for RE~.lcloos, v. 21 (1962), p. 337. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 39 Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS whether we should classify any aspect of leisure, recre-ation, or relaxation as "better" or of a higher type. This is not intended. What is meant is simply that, because appreciating such things as art, music, drama, and litera-ture involves the use of our more perfect faculties, they are of a higher class than those involving the use of less perfect faculties. Nor is it intended to imply that either use of leisure time is to automatically be exclusive of the other at all times. Once. again, leisure time should be spent so as to add to one's total personality--but let us not forget that this includes, most importantly, our spiritual and intellectual stature: "Leisure time, profitably employed, should bring every Sister to a consciousness of the reality of God, whether it be through listening to beautiful music, look-ing at an art object, or reading a literary work that ex-plores the depths of the human heart." a0 The type of education that an individual receives will affect her attitudes toward leisure. Consequently, it ought to be our endeavor to give our Sisters a very liberal educa-tion, both formal and informal. Certainly, in today's world, we need specialists in the field of education. But those chosen as such must be careful lest their specialty become their all-consuming interest. And those not chosen to specialize in a given subject, must avoid the error of not being interested in a given field--be it music, art, literature, or whatever--because then they would fail to enrich themselves. Communities must be sure to provide sufficient opportunities for their members to develop their potentialities and interests, lest these be allowed to atrophy. If the sisters have sufficient leisure time and adequate opportunities, more of them should become more original and creative. They will con-seqfently become more perfectly developed as whole persons. The typ~ of education our sisters receive ".must offer them access to the wealth of thinking and specula-tion, to the arts and sciences, that lie at the basis of the best in our culture . The goal of education should not be so much to teach as to offer the opportunity to ex-perience growth of the total personality, including, of course, exercise of the mind and the aesthetic skills." 31 Only then can we justly expect them to make good use of their time, both on the job and off it. And we shall be acting to prevent many problems which inevitably arise =Sister Marian, I.H.M.~ "Leisure Time: A Spiritual Asset or Liability," REVIEW FOE KEL~CIOUS, V. 20 (1961), p. 365. =George Soule, "Free Time--Man's New Resource," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. 75-6. in later years when persons have not learned how to act leisurely. We must be honest and admit that many sisters look upon leisure, recreation, and relaxation as an escape from.the toils of the day or from the monotonous exist-ence some may have to endure for various reasons. And so, it would seem, they quite naturally turn to the ever increasing viewing of television, listening to "light" music, or reading pseudosophisticated reading material found in some current magazines, all of which require little mental exertion. Education plays an important role in aiding sisters to become selective in the type of activi-ties chosen for use in their leisure. Otherwise, the sister ". will never become the educated, cultured woman her profession as educator on any academic level demands; much less will she furn out to be the mature religious woman who can say without any reservation, 'I live, yet it is not I who live, but Christ who lives in me'." as Some may object, stating that they have not been thus educated or trained. The community may then choose to conduct workshops for this purpose, using their own sisters whose profession has trained them to be knowledge-able in the various fine arts. Sisters themselves could con. verse with these professionals and learn to be selective. Not liking to read, listen to good music, or view art is not really reason enough not to engage in these activities. Sisters must learn that they can acquire a taste for them. Granted, this is not easy; it depends upon the willingness of the individual and her repeated efforts. The cultivation of an interest in the arts is as much her responsibility as the understanding and skill she is required to have in her profession. I[ there is a separation between the cultured professional and the zealous religious, the inevitable resuh is a divided personality.33 Finally: Religious women must be women of discernment. They must come to see and be convinced that compartmentalization of their minds interferes with their raison d'~tre--that of trans-forming themselves into souls owned by Christ and changed into Him. Their recognition of the genuine values inherent in the good use of leisure time, will, in reality, bring them closer and closer day by day to an adherence to the truth, and to the One who is Truth Itself.** Once again, this is not to imply that physical activities ÷ are never to be used, nor that leisure is not ever meant for ÷ simpler types of relaxation. These are needed, too, be-cause they fortify both mind and body by not making difficult demands on either. ILei~re, Sister Marian, "Leisure Time," p. 365. See ibid., pp. 370-1. Ibid. VOLUME 2% 1970 41 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Play Under the general heading of "play" we can develop many ideas. ]?or example, our work may become play-- when we aquire a relaxed attitude toward it as opposed to compulsive preoccupation: "Enjoyment comes from doing the best I can without the anxious feeling that I must do everything or be dubbed a failure. The fact that I reserve time for living the inactivity of recreation gives me the presence and peace of mind I need to respond fully to the moments." 36 The Sacred Scriptures have repeated incidents of play: God created the sea, with all its schools of fish and many ships, "to make sport of it" (Ps 103:25-6); exegetes of the Bible apply the passage from Proverbs 8:27-31 describing an observer of creation to Mary who "was delighted every day, playing before him at all times, playing in the world: and my delights were to be with the children of men"; and, of course, there is the famous incident of David playing and dancing before the ark of the covenant (1 Chr 15:29). Perhaps we should take the example, lest we take our work too seriously and it make us its slave and we become proud and self-sufficient. We must be serious about our work to a point--but, then, we must find enjoyment in it.3n Because play involves successes and failures, it helps a person to adjust to these in the more serious business of li[e. Because it teaches the person to "rub elbows" or socialize, play teaches teamplay: The experience and training received in good play are indis-pensable to the well-adjusted individual . Play is training in ajpplication and concentration, and it is training, in socializa-aon. ;. There is no better means o[ turning interest away from self and such unhealthy things as phantasy and self-centeredness toward the objective world of-things and people than absorption in play . Play. is an indispensable train-ing in the serious work oF lifeY The primitive drive of aggression in an individual adult is satisfied for a part in work and education. But not all excess energy and aggression can thus be diverted. Another outlet is found in play. Besides providing such an outlet, play teaches us to overcome dislikes and hatreds which may otherwise develop to unreasonableness. Unless excess aggresiveness and energy are released in some beneficial manner, it will produce mischief and mental illness.3S The discussion on play quite naturally brir~gs to mind a~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. I13. so Mehr, "Community Exercises," p. 338. S~Arthur Timme, "The Significance of Play and Recreation in Civilized Life," Mental Hygiene, v. 18 (1934), p. 54. ~ See ibid., pp. 54-6. other, more active forms of recreation and relaxation. It should be understood that active leisure applies to all. Some would tend to limit it to chronologically young persons. Perhaps a bit of an explanation would be useful, especially when we recall that Alexander Reid Martin warned that unless a person learns to use leisure properly, she may experience a rapid disintegration of her person-ality once leisure is more or less forced upon her. Actually, it is unfair to label an individual by age, be-cause it deprives her of equality. Thus labeled, a sister is judged, not by her personal qualities or lack or them, but by what is expected of her because of her particular age. George H. Soule notes that no one has yet exactly pin-pointed the essence of aging, either physiologically or psychologically, but that most experts agree that the differences within an age group are far greater than differ-ences between age groups.3~ To be arbitrarily placed in a group often leads to a person's reacting as expected, and this in turn influences the deterioration spoken of, at whatever age level. Generally speaking, however, youth can and does find opportunities for recreation and relaxation. There re-mains the danger of being overzealous and overambitious and of acquiring a sense of responsibility that they must take on added burdens as the congregation's median age rises. Of this, the young must beware--they, too, must develop leisureliness, which will not allow them to be-come preoccupied in any endeavor. The ability to be leisurely and to be able to recreate ourselves should be grasped by middle age, because . by this time most of us have reached a plateau in our jobs or professions. This is not to suggest that, t~or the specially qualified or generally ambitious, there are not further peaks to be climbed. But for the generality of us, I think, we have probably attained the peak of our job or career, and it is time to relax. We can still do our da),'s work, honesdy and competently. But we can also start thinking of our souls. By thinking of our souls I am not speaking purely in a religious sense, though I would not for a moment discount the importance of that. I am thinking rather of a reexamination of ourselves as individuals and of our lives up to this pointwto what extent we have found meaning and to what extent we have failed to find meaning, and then to realize quite soberly that this comparative leisure we have earned may stretch on for us for perhaps another quarter of a century.'° Normally, because an individual has achieved her work goals by middle age, she also derives most satisfactions from it during these years. Thes~ satisfactions she usually shares with the community, and the community should be a~ Soule, "Free Time," p. 62. 4°Clark Tibbits, "Preface," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. xi-xii. ÷ 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 43 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS an in~entive for the individual to advance herself even more.41 But once again the sister should beware of be-coming too engrossed in her work and her own personal satisfactions, because this. will narrow her other interests. Then, when she later becomes less efficient and no longer gets such satisfactions, she will have little to go back on: "We are told that people stranded without interest goals, who seem to have no rationale of existence, often become frustrated and lapse into physical or mental illness." 42 This applies to any age group, but since satisfactions are greatest in middle age, perhaps this is the most dangerous age in regard to the fallacy of overwork and underplay. The so-called senior members of the community should not, by any means, be excluded from active leisure-time activities. It is most important that these sisters be kept active and creative, since their physical ability to work is limited, as is their sphere of interests. The community must make special provision for an organized leisure-time program for these members above all. It would be well if they had some professionally trained sisters to accomplish this. More and more colleges are providing courses in recreation leadership, because of the demand in society for such individuals. Surely, it would be to the community's advantage to have such trained personnel. These same sisters could conduct workshops for the local homes and offer suggestions as to how recreation periods could be more relaxing and more beneficial: "Sound rec-reation programs may promote good will, tolerance and understanding, and may improve societal relationships, all of which are significant to the maximum develgpment of personality." 4a Concerning the use of leisure time by all age groups, we find that all activities fall into one or more of the following categories: social and cultural advancement, creative expression, entertainment, recreation, personal development, fostering life, creative maintenance, and classification and ordering.44 These groups of activities bring about certain desired effects: diversion, which counters self-center~dness; expression, which reverses feel-ings of frustration; the struggle ]or survival, useful against regression; creativeness, a method of liberating thwarted instincts; membership, which combats feelings of iso-lation and lonesomeness; participation, to maintain a ,1 Nels Anderson, Work and Leisure (New York: Free Press, 1961), p. 180. '~ Ibid., p. 257. *a Raymond A. Snyder and Alexander Scott, Pro/essional Prepara-tion in Health, Physical Education, and Recreation (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1954), p. 5. ~See Maurice E. Linden, "Preparation for the Leisure of Later Maturity," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, p. 89. sense of self-esteem; social acceptableness, to help main-tain a good self-image; recognition, which counteracts embitterment; meaningfulness, to aid in establishing the true value of nature and life; contemplation, which con-tributes to effective judgmental functioning; sharing, to aid in improving a person's opinion of herself; and simple enjoyment of living.4~ The achievement of the above mentioned effects, certainly, will contribute to a more perfect personality. All of them result from the proper use of leisure activities. All o£ them can be achieved by any individual who de-sires to do so. But some may ask for more concrete exam-ples of how to acquire these abstract values. There are any number of ways, of course, and each way must be suited to the individual, who must consider her own physical and psychological needs. In selecting recrea-tional activities, the sister should always keep in mind that which will give her the most satisfaction at a given time. The activity in which she can best create, achieve, find beauty, fellowship, and relaxation, is of more lasting value than one which yields only one or two satisfac-tions. 46 Following is a list of activities which might be engaged in by sisters. The list is only suggestive, and not all-inclu-sive. It is offered merely to aid sisters in selecting activi-ties to make their leisure time more profitable. Active games and sports: Dodge bail, relays, softball, basketball, bowling, volleyball, rope jumping, bicycle riding, swimming, ice skating, and calisthenics. Social activities: Card games, barbecues, parties for special occasions, puzzles, dancing, and various table games (scrabble, parchesi, monopoly). Music: A cappella choirs, action songs, community singing, instrument playing, composing music, listening groups, music appreciation courses, music study groups, and music instruction. Arts and crafts: Drawing, carving of various kinds (soap, wood, and so forth), needlework, painting, paper craft, and sewing. Drama: Theatre attendance, charades, choral speech, creative dramatization, and song impersonations. Nature and outing activities: Excursions or trips to art museums and to places of religious or historic interest; flower arrangement; gardening; and nature study, col-lection, and identification. Literary, languages, and related activities: Creative writing, lectures, reading, mental games, radio and tele- ~ Ibid., pp. 89-92. ~See George D. Butler, Introduction to Community Recreation, 4th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1967), p. 240. This book is highly recommended to anyone interested in recreation leadership. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1970 45 ÷ ÷ ÷ vision programs° and study groups in literature or lan-guage. Seroice activities: Directing glee club, orchestra, dra-matic groups, assistance in organizing holiday celebra-tions, and assistance in public relations programs. The preceding list should at least indicate the wide diversity of activities which bring satisfaction and re-laxation to various individuals.4; If there is a recreation leader, she should be sure to consider differences in age, interest, skills, place available, time, size of the group, and the funds necessary and available.4s Having a recrea-tion leader, whether on a local, regional, or provincial level, would surely enhance the recreation program. It would be more organized and more e~cient and con-sequently more beneficial to those involved. Special mention must be made of vacations as a form of leisure. Recently, communities have increased the length of vacation periods and have relaxed regulations governing the way vacations are to be spent. Actually, nothing in canon law regarding religious specifies that a religious must have a vacation, but it seems that some kind of vacation is a normal requisite for an individual. It is doubtful that visits to one's family and relatives should be counted as a vacation, because these are often marked by strenuous activity and loss of sleep, so they are not physically relaxing. Even if they provide relax-ation, they can hardly be considered a religious vacation: "A vacation for religious should serve the purpose of intensifying the community spirit.'° 49 A vacation should be taken in a place away from the regular religious houses, where sisters could get together to rest, play games, and get to know one another: "In relaxation and recreation the religious see one another in a new light, and often discover remarkably fine qual-ities that they never knew existed. In my opinion there is nothing like a good community vacation for fostering a good community spirit." 50 It is recognized by superiors and sisters that all of this is true and good, but obstacles, especially financial ones, will always remain. Nonethe-less, everything possible should be done to carry out a vacation program. Regarding the idea of individual religious saving gifts or offerings to pay for the vacation, it would seem con-trary to present canon law which states that gifts received by an individual become the property of the institute. Even if the religious asks permission, the asking of per- Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 See ibid., pp. 253-8. See ibid., pp. 264-72. Questions on Religious LiIe (St. Marys, Kansas: R~wEw FOR R~.mious, 1964), p. '112. Ibid., p. 113. missions usually pertains to what the religious needs, not what she desires. It the community permits sisters to make trips and visit their families, the community should pay the expenses. The community ought not insist upon or condone a policy of those who get the money, get the trips:51 Common life also requires that, generally spe.aking, equal opportunities be given to members of a commumty. Hence a superior could allow the members of his community to make a pious pilgrimage provided that he supplied the necessary ex-pense money for such members of his community as do not have relatives or friends who are willing to pay for them.~ However, as witnesses of the poverty of Christ, religious themselves should not desire unduly long and expensive vacations, for poor persons are unable to take such vacations. For Senior Sisters The final part of this paper will be devoted to the area of leisure, recreation, and relaxation for senior sisters. Of course, what has already been stated applies to all sisters, seniors included. But it cannot be denied that these sisters need and deserve special treatment; hence, aspects of leisure which pertain specifically to them will be treated separately. The senior sister as a member of society has, like most others, leaned on her role as worker. All other roles-- friend, citizen, adviser--revolved around her worker role in life. When she retires, she must learn to use her time and place her values differently, because new relation-ships to persons and things develop. "If mental and physical deterioration are to be avoided, new interests and new goals must be found, or old interests and aspira-tions rediscovered . The recreation program offers a fruitful means of satisfying activity for them." 53 As with everyone else, however, the primary responsi-bility for appropriate use of leisure rests with the sister herself. There are some recommendations that will help her to benefit from her new-found role. As suggested by Dr. Maurice E. Linden, these are: (I) Continue to develop your resources. Contrary to popu-lar opinion, the human m~nd continues to develop its capacity well into the seventh and eighth decades. (2) Increase your social effectiveness. Because older people have fewer human drives to contend with, they can channel their energy, thus becoming more socially effective. (3) Enjoy your wisdom. It can be a great source of gratifica-tion now, formerly denied because of inexperience. ¯ t See ibid., pp. 64-5. ~ Ibid., p. 63. ~Arthur Williams, Recreation in the Senior Years (New York: National Recreation Association Press, 1962), p. 18. VOLUME 2% 1970 + ÷ ÷ Siste~ Te~esanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 (4) Advance the tenets of human progress. The experience of the older mind gives it the capacity to diStinguish the good from the bad, thus enabling the community to preserve values built up over a period of time. (5) Externalize your interest. As a result of many successes in life, the older person should have the ability to be less selb centered an.d more interested in other people. (6) Place your value in quality. Again as a result of experi-ence, the older mind is capable of seeing the intrinsic value in both persons and things, and those formerly considered insig-nificant now are appreciated. (7) Don't be a spendthrift of time. Maturity enables a per-son to appreciate the value of time and aids her in spending it profitably. (8) Make your human relationships durable, It is a quality of a mature person to be unswerving in devotion to persons and to principles. (9) Don't capitalize on dependency. It is a responsibility of the young to care for the old; but well-adjusted older persons prefer to be as independent as they are capable.of being. (10) Exercise judicious independence. It is unwise to with-draw from the currents of daily life and thus deny the young people the benefit of accumulated experience and knowledge ~" These are just some suggestions that senior sisters may find helpful. It would seem that they are striving to ad-just to their situation. The communities must do all that is possible to aid these sisters, through the establishment of an effective program for the use of leisure. As men-tioned, more than in other groups, there is a definite need for trained personnel for this program. There is a need for a varied program, suited to the individual sister: "Diversity is the keynote of the per-manently successful program." 55 The program should be so planned as to include every sister. And every sister should be encouraged to participate, guarding against the tendency to just sit and watch. But her participation must be voluntary. Only in this way will her real abilities shine forth, and only in this way will she give vent to self-expression. Above all, if the program for the aging sisters is to be successful, it should be designed to improve community living. Those charged with developing the program must have confidence in the senior sisters and must be cognizant that ". older people can learn new skills, but., they learn more slowly and need to engage in recreational activities at their own pace." 56 Dr. Carol Lucas con-ducted a pilot program of study at Columbia University and authored a book in which a recreation program for ~ Linden, "Prep

Issue 27.4 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND 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 l~vmw FOR I~LmmUS; 6~ Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3=I Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University~ the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1968 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS at428 East Preston Street; Bahirnore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class post.age paid at Baltimore, Maryhmd. Single cop~es: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two )'ears; other countries: 55.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIE~,' FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, wher~ accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REWEW vo~ RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REVIEW ~OR RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REview ro~ R~LIGIOGS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 4 DAVID T. ASSELIN, s.J. Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment My purpose is to situate personal spiritual discernment in the context of faith-growth, that is, Christian matu-rity. From this viewpoint, to educate the faith is less a question of theological instruction than one of guided. spiritual experience. I am thinking of the teleioi of Hebrews 5:14, "the mat~[re who have their faculties trained by experience to discern between good and evil," an excellent summary of the Spirit's work of restoration out of the chaos which resulted from man's original attempt to determine good and evil for himself and on his own. The term could also be translated "the perfect," or, perhaps, "the personally fulfilled." Faith, throughout this discussion, should be under-stood in the sense of Vatican II's Decree on the At~osto-late of the Laity: Only by the light of'faith [the impressive word is "only"] and by meditation on the word of God, can one always and everywhere recognize God, in whom "we live and move and have our being," seek His will in every event, see Christ in all men whether they are close to us or strangers, make correct judgments about the true meaning and value of temporal things, both in themselves and in their relationship to man's final goal. ¯ Ex.cept for meditation on Scripture nothing is said in this text about the means of maturing the faith. The Council simply outlines the content of adult faith. What I should like to explore is an indispensable element in the process of maturation of this content. The truth of the matter is that faith is not primarily a source of answers to our questions but rather our answer to the Lord's question; "Lovest thou me?" In other words, I take faith not as quest for answers (to our in-tellectual problems) nor as a set of answers (to the ques-tions of "others), but as the answer "of the whole person 4, David T. Asselin, S.J., is spiritual di-rector at Regis Col-lege; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willow-dale, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 27, 1968 581 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 582 to the Lord inserting His Person and Spirit, and thus articulating Himself as the divine Word, in human life. My general proposition is that at the very heart of growing in faith we find, necessarily, a refinement and increase of the grace of spiritual discernment. Without discernment there is no growth in faith. Spiritual dis-cernment, therefore, is less a question of being intellec-tually clever than of being graced and called by the Lord to grow in knowledge of Him. All things serve the Lord of history; all persons are called to be the vehicles of His creative will; all men willy-nilly serve the God of human history's purposes. Otherwise, they would not be introduced into ongoing incarnational history. However, not everyone, so far, seems to hear the call to know the Lord he se~wes, to know Him as a friend does a friend, as a son his father, a wife her husband. To know Him is the mark of spiritual growth and maturity. Faith-growth is God's work. Man can do no better than collaborate with the divine initiative in his spiritual life. This seems to imply several things. First of all, as the spiritual point of departure, it de-mands an openness to being moved by God. This is the key to obedience as well as to all spiritual encounter. The fundamental Christian attitude, then, is that of a listener, one who is open to divine initiatives whatever they might be. It is radically and essentially a prayer-attitude, one that continues, or ought to continue, be-yond prayer into the apostolate and every other work or experience. The second implication is a need for some continual scrutiny and reflection in regard to the experiences inte-rior to 6neself in prayer and in all life's situations. This self-examination is needed not merely to lay hold of juridically impt.~table faults but more importantly to grow in habitual discrimination and discernment-by-faith of the various, interior experiences and personal spiritual calls--impulses, inclinations, attractions, re-pugnances, assaults--that occur much more frequently than perhaps we either admit or spiritually discern. The third demand is a growing ability to recognize and respond only to those experiences which are dis-cernibly frotn the Lord. Here, in the area of concrete affectivity, are the contacts with the Lord's divine initia-tives guiding the individual person or community. The difference between personal spiritual direction and spir-itual government of a community involves a difference in the mode of spiritual scrutiny and recognition of the divine will in the concrete. Whatever accidental dif-ference may emerge in the mode of reflection on ex-perience, both the community scrutiny and the ifldi- .vidual scrutiny lead ultimately to the possibility of a response which we may call "rightly ordered," a direct response to inner vocation that gives first place to answer-ing the.Lord's question, "Lovest thou me?" In brief, these three requirements---openness to spir-itual experience, reflection on it, and response-ability to it--are basic elements in the growth of personal sensi-tivity to the initiatives of the Lord, or spiritual discern-ment. Whether on the community or individual level, in order to achieve government, spiritual direction, or faith-growth, the cooperation of several is required. The director 'and the directed, the superior and the subject, the spiritual father and his "son,'~ must both be. humbly alert in a collaboration of listening to the Lord's Spirit~ The basic relationship of spiritual direction and govern-ment is a structured team-work of director and directed in discerning the will of the Lord in concrete~ situations. Both, then, must be continually subordinated to the Lord's Spirit and His word as the principal director. The hierarchy of subordination, in the context of spir-itual direction, is that of a human directo]: who by his calling is the servant of a relationship growing between the one directed and the Spirit of the Lord. In a sense, then, the human director takes his stand, spiritually, in the lower, not the higher, place. In this relationship of spiritual direction, destined to serve the Lord's creative work in the individual and in the ~ommunity, the responsibility falls first on the Lord Himself, secondly on the group or the individual' called to Him, and finally on the servant of their relationship, the spiritual director. If there" is any subordination to human direction in responding to God, this sub-ordination must be established by the Lord and guaran-teed. by Him (or by a convenant or pact freely entered into on the part of the subject). Growth in discernment of the action of God's Spirit is, then, the thing which truly matures and estab-lishes in the faith a spiritual person or community. An authentic spiritual community is one which can be described in terms of its real awareness of being moved and directed by the Holy Spirit, on many levels. This awareness is not just found vaguely throughout the com-munity but according to the clearly defined functions of properly subordinated individuals. As we find in the Gospels, to be great in the community° of the Lord is to be the least and servant of all. The work of the one wh~)se responsibility it is to direct others is a work of assisting them, as individuals and as a group, to hear and respond better to the Lord's initiatives in every ,situa-tion. This direction or government is a spiritual thing pre2 ÷ 4, Maturity and ¯ Discernment ~VOLUME 27, 1968 583 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 cisely to the extent that it is collaboration with the Lord's Spirit, the ultimate director and superior. The Lord's indications, leads, initiatives, must be discerned as coming from Him and then followed, if a man is to serve the Lord in a way befitting man, that is by knowing the Lord he serves. There is, then, a need today to respect the importance and centrality of interior, personal, spiritual experience without undue fear of false mysticism or of the folly of the enthusiasts, quietists, alumbrados. Moreover, we must investigate the area of spiritual experience today because the Church is not only inviting ns but requiring us to do so, in the words of one who cries out: "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches" (Ap 2:11). The word "maturity" has been aptly defined by the Swiss psychologist, Jean Piaget, who made extensive studies of children in their process of development. Mh-turity, he found, is simply an increase in the capacity to differentiate in a practical manner interior experiences and operations. If we adopt this definition, then the life of faith in a man is mature to the extent that it involves a capacity to reflect upon, understand, discriminate be-tween, and respond to, the inner spiritual stimuli that he experiences within himself. The Lord's Personal Call It might be well here to suggest some relationships between general law or principle on the one hand, and individuated personal experience on the other. To di-vorce the two is to fall into legalism and moralism, or into a kind of situation-ethic. The problem is how to relate these poles. It is true that general law and principle rightly and concretely circumscribe each personal situation. But they do so only to the extent that this situation is common to all men, and not proper to this person as such. I mean that the situations of Peter and of Paul are cor-rectly guided by general principle only insofar as Peter and Paul are men, therefore impersonally considered, not insofar as they are distinguished from each other by name. Peter qua Peter is more than just a man. In this regard permit me to draw attention to the per-fect way of knowing a man, intimately and personally, which is the Lord's way of knowing him, that is, by name. We read in Isaiah 43:1: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine." Or again, in John 10:3: "The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them forth." Scripture continually reveals the personal and intimate knowledge that the Lord has of each of His creatures: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you" (Jer 1:5); "Lord, you have pi:obed me and you know me, you understand my thoughts from afar, with all my ways you are familiar, even~ before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know the whole of it, where can I go from your Spirit, from your presence where can I flee" (Ps 138:139). Just as it is clear that the Lord knows and calls each man by name, it is equally clear that man becomes spir-itually mature to the extent that he can recognize and acknowledge who it is that is calling him, responding to . the Lord by name in all things: The days are coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the House of Israel and the House of Judah. It will not be like the covenant I made with their fathers the day I took them by the hand to lead them forth from the land of Egypt. For they broke my covenant and I had to show myself their master, says the Lord. But this is the covenant which I will make with the House of Israel after those days, says the Lord. I will place my law within them, and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer will they have need to teach their friends and kinsmen how to know the Lord. All, the least to the greatest, shall know Me, says the Lord, for I will forgive their evil doing and remember their sin no more (Jer 31:31ff.). It seems clear, here and elsewhere in Scripture, that God is establishing with each human person as well as with His community a new spiritual relatiqnship of tremendous value which exceeds the expectations of authentic Chris-tian personalism today. In order to discover the meaning of Peter qua Peter, and of Paul as unique and distinct from Peter, in the context of universal salvation history (which, after all, is the task in which spiritual directors and superiors are, I believe, primarily intended to assist), it is necessary to discover the unique meaning, value, and orientation that is proper to Peter's spiritual situation precisely as distinct from Paul's, before the Lord. By what kind of logic is this sort of knowledge attained? Over and above the universal validity of general principle and law, Peter, as an unrepeatable, unique individual, must be guided by a logic that is other than the logic of general principle and universal law. In other words, there are two kinds of logic. One logic, which .we might call conceptual or proposi-tional, is the basis for reasoning in universally valid terms. The point of departure, the principle or the foun-dation from which the successive insights and conclu-sions proceed according to this logic will be an axiom. It begins therefore with a self-evident proposition. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 585 D. T. As~elin, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 Logic o[ the Concret~ .There is another logic, however, the Jogic of con-crete, unique, and individual events and persons (which, inCidentally, is the w, ay God apprehends things). Here, . the human foundation or first principle will no longer be an axiom but an experience. As the logic of conceptual knowledge is based on axiomatic, propositions, so the logic of concrete knowledge is based on concrete ex-perience. Mature faith-response to the Lord's word can emerge only from personal encounter with Him. I think it is the job of superiors and spiritual directors to point to those authentic experiences whereby the Lord is communicating Himself to individuals and communi-ties, thus guiding their spiritual growth and governing their development as Christian persons. This concret~ knowledge of the Lord and of His ways. can only be had, as the Vatican Council proposes, "by meditation on the word of God." Faith-growth is inseparable from prayer-life. Both are areas of fundamental concern to all who are called not only by the Lord's, "Lovest thou me?" but also by His, "Feed my lambs and sheep." What, therefore, the individual as such ought to de-cide in the area of liberty and private responsibility cannot be fully determined by general principle or law. It is of vital importance, however, that what is decided be determined with spiritual certitude, not merely by guesswork, accident, or whim. This is precisely why reliable, that is, mature, faith-discernment of interior experiences and, events is important. Otherwise, we run a risk of considering these experiences as mere psycho-logical phenomena, avoiding the whole world of con-crete events in function of which spiritual discernment and maturity can take place. Rather, we must approach the world of private and group e~perience as filled with the glorious presence (shekinah) of the Lord, the indications of His will and concrete providence, and perhaps .the presence of an adverse spirit. Hence, it is only a faith-awareness and dis-cernment of these events which can lead to an under-standing of the individual or community relationship to the Lord, an estimation of their spiritual maturity, and a reliable ifi~rease in their personal freedom and re- + sponsibility. + No concrete choice can be well ordered in the faith + unless it coincides with the determination~ of the Lord 'of all human history. To be aware of these things in the concrete is the only way for a man to be "with it" spir-itually, or "where the action is." To be with the Lord of history, who revealed Himself as being so continually and intimately with us, we must be in personal corn- munication with Him in all things. Therefore, the particular experience that functions as a self-evident first principle for the logic of concrete individual knowl-edge is nothing short of a real experience of the Lord communicating Himself and uttering His invitation and call directly to a pers9n for his u.nique situation, Growth in discernment presupposes several elements. There must be, first of all, inner experience; second,. repeated reflection, on this experience; third, a dis-crimination between various experiences, not from the pbint of view of mere natural causalities (psychological or otherwise), but from that of personal faith in the Lord of concrete history; fourth, an evaluation of these interior experiences from this faith-standpoint; finally, the ca-pacity to receive and obey those movements which are discernibly from the Lord, or.at least clearly not inspired by an adverse spirit. This is the only way to be with the Lord, and where His action is, in reality. Only thus can a man truly grow as a mature person and find. fulfillment. He must find his own personal relationship with the Creator and Lord of all things, and place himself at His service unre-servedly. Experience, then, of encounter and contact with .the Lord, of listening to and of being guided by Him di-rectly, must lie within the capacities of ordinary Chris-tian faith-maturity. Otherwise, how could an adult Chris-tian enjoy an authentic spiritual calling? The only way a man can be divinely called to a personal vocation is "bY name," which means by a unique and personal en-counter with tbe Lord in terms of incommunicable inner experience. Surely our adult Christians, in the light of Vatican II, are not merely destined to serve the Lord, but intimately to know the Lord they serve. Surely their service must flow from a personal.knowledge of Him, a concrete knowledge which cannot be grasped from the-ology or from psychology or even from the mere absence of "impediments to vocation," but from personal ex-perience and prayer. There is question here of something mystical, at least on an elementary level, in the ordinary faith-growth of a Christian--something entailing immediate conscious con-tact with the person of the Lord. Hence, we confront today a mysticism that is to be recognized and fostered within the ordinary providence of God's grace for anyone called to know Him. This kind of knowledge is what specifies the relationship between. God and His people, God and the individual, in the whole Judaeo-Christian history of vocation. I submit that today the discernmentof spirits, as it is called, is the most relevant focal, point in our spiritual ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 587 ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS heritage, because it is the concrete., logic of personal spiritual knowledge of las cosas internas, the "interior things," the life of inner spiritual experience. Only a refined spiritual discernment will guide a man to mature self-possession, freeing him from inner disorder in his choosing so that he may enjoy a growing, divine en-counter of faith in all circumstances. In this way, his faith-awareness will envelop, enlighten, guide everything else in his life, so that he will not be able to love any-thing ~r anyone save "in the Lord." It is only within this world of each man's personal experience that his faith-response can be given to the evocative word of the Lord. " Today.in this age of personalism, of self-discovery, of fulfillment, of communication and dialogue, there is a dyifig interest, in any gospel that might limit itself to spiriyual absolutes and generalities, to moralism or trite devotionalism, just as there is a reaction against the spiritual anonymity of the" "lonely crowd" and. the impersonality of the "organization man" in our "secular city.:' Such-labels indicate' the personal alienation that threatens urbanized man today. We all know the reac-tion formation which arises against this situation, offering a purely secular salvation in terms of this-worldly ful-fillment of man's four basic desires: his desire for security, affection, variety, and esteem. Man's real salvation today, however, according to our Christian world-view based on the 'new covenant announced in Jeremiah 31, 31 ft., entails being radicallygraced by God in such a way that the divine presence and will can be known and hcknowl- ' edged personally by each man. Confronted exclusively with general principles and laws, or the enunciation of general truths based upon them which do not focus on each man as a unique per-son but necessarily treat him merely as another instance of numerically multipliable human nature undistin-guished by any name, modern man will remain deaf to ¯ his true personal call to greatness, spiritually immature. If the Christian logic of concrete personal vocation is ignored today, there is a growing danger that tomorrow both Peter and Paul will search for their identity out, side the authentic Christian view of things., perhaps against it. It is only through the gradual and inevitably painful education of a man's faith-view of concrete particulars, that is, the education of his capacity spiritually to dis-cern concrete reality within himself or others, that he can be entrusted with the responsibility of personally determining the steps and measures which bear on his own salvation or that of others. ~ We are far from endorsing, therefore, an undiscerning confidence and blind acceptance of everything that a man spontaneously is inclined to think best. According to the view of some, everything is acceptable or good which inwardly attracts or moves a man, as long as it is not a clear inclination to sin. As a matter of fact, if it were all that easy it would hardly be worth discussing. Spiritual responsibility is insured only by an authentic growth of the capacity to discern the personal word and will of Christ for onself or for another. This merely re-affirms the central Christian position which is one of lis-tening to and following the word of God addressed to man: "Blessed is hewho hears the word of God and keeps it"; or again: "My mother and brothers and sisters are those who hear the word of God and keep it." To some degree or other all of us have this problem of faith-maturity. Therefore, we must consider maturity not as a terminal achievement but rather as maturation, a continuum of emerging awareness of interior en-counter and personal vocation initiated by the Lord. All this applies to community experience as well as to that of the individual, and it includes in its ambit the beginner as well as the teleios in the sense of Hebrews 5:14, "the one who has faculties trained by experience to discern good from evil." This points to faith-guided discernment as the cor-rection of Adam's fault who attempted, :according to Genesis 3, on his own and independently of the Lord's personal indication, to "eht of the fruit of the tree of. the knowledge of good and evil," that is, to discern for himself independently of God what was good and evil in the concrete. Hence any education in the discernment of right from wrong must emerge from the radical faith-position of one who is a listener to the Lord: "All that is not of faith is sin" (Rom 14:23). Structure and Individuation We are always confronted with the necessity of ad-mitting the young into formation structures in such a way as to allow for varying degrees of spiritual maturity already achieved and to foster further personal growth in the knowledge of God's will and love by discernment. Moreover, at the beginning of the process of formation there are two factors polarized, which, I feel, need to undergo considerable change in their basic relationship .by the end of that formative process. We can label those two factors "structure" and "in-dividuation." Structure, here, means a generally pre-dictable behavior pattern within which the individual and the group are directed to maturity in their en-counter with the Lord. For beginners there is need of a ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment. ,~.~ VOLUME 27~ 1968" 589 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~90 meaningful and reasonable overall structure in which the young candidates are .introduced to spiritual re-sponsibility. This structure will be more extensive and more detailed in virtue of the greater need for assistance and protection required in the period of initial growth. By individuation, in the context of formation, I mean everything that falls under the general heading of per-sonal admonition, directive, prescription, correction, or guidance. It is my general i~npression that we have not been afflicted so'much with overstructure in formation (we have had much structure but I think much is needed to ¯ .begin the process of faith-growth) as with a kind of rev-erence for this structure which tends to find maturity in terms of structural function and hence to preserve initial structures unchanged throughout religious life. ¯ I also believe we have been afflicted with an anxious protection and maintenance of this structure by over-stricture, so that the individual has been given to feel that the structure is an absolute value and that his least exterior failure or fault will be judged as maximal when, in fact, it might be objectively and spiritually minimal. A process of destructuring must occur. But, more im-portantly, we ought to begin formation with complete gentleness, patience, and the allowance for personal uniqueness, in the application of strictures within the required structure. With structure and individuation polarized in this way at the point of departure of formation, let me. degcribe the general evolution .which hopefully might occur with respect to the relationship between structure and individuation over the years, By its end a period of formation ought to reveal much less structure (because we' can presume that with discernment the spiritual adult has become more personally aware of his Lord and has achieved a more refined sensitivity to the promptings of the Holy Spirit) and much more stricture (because he has grown in spiritual sensitivity, in his capacity for self-direction, for discerning the Lord in all things by faith and love, and is consequently more accountable, that is, responsible, for these things). No community ought to aim at being completely un-structured or informal as long as men are mortal and original sin still, affects their motivation, decisions, and efforts. But I believe much failure in formation is due to the initial overemphasis of both stricture and struc-ture, producing a reaction against¯ both. We often end up with serious:difficulties not so much with the young as the old and religiously "formed," who, when it is safe to throw off structures, will no longer listen to stric-ture either. This, of course, reveals that their formation left them spiritually immature. How difficult it is at times to tell a man who has been~ twenty-five years in religious life what to do or not to do. It is not easy, if he is obstinate. It is not easy if he feels: "Now that I have gone through that formation bit, you don't push me around." I think a lot of our scandal emerges precisely when the process of destructuring takes place reveali.ng little faith-education or spiritual maturity to fill up the vac-uum created by ~his process. It shows that no growth in spiritual responsibility has.supplanted the firmness of protective structures. By the end of our periods of formation, when the col-lective factors have been diminished on the level of structure, there ought to emerge a deeper spiritual rela-tionship with the superior, confessor, personal director, on the individual level, that is, on the level of concrete prescription, spiritual direction, and discernment. I feel that little faults in mature persons are much more serf-otis than little faults in beginners. Perhaps we ought to increase the importance of private direction for the ma-ture, not only in the sense of reprehension and correction of faults, but also of more tailored discernment of the will of the Lord. Existentially, this continuum of for-mation ought to be a movement, from external law to the interior law of love. , St. Paul had insight int~ such freedom. He claims that we are freed by learning to love like Christ. He does not mean by freedom that we are no longer bound by ex-ternal law, but rather that we are no longer driven, cap-tured, or urged by anything except by divine love: "Caritas Christi urget nos." To the degree that mature Christian love existentially directs a man's choices, his need for external law and direction is lessened. Only.by the "strength of the Lord's personal initiati~ces of love in his regar~l wi!l he be stimulated to respond to the Lord's word calling him to share responsibility for his own salvation and that of others. This call in its fullness is identical with the vocation to enter the paschal mystery of the Lord's suffering service, death, and resurrection. Hence, we can say with Vatican II that it is "only by faith and by meditation on the word of God" that we can find God's will in anything, discover Christ in our fellow man, or evaluate temporal things in their true light, that is, in the light of salvation history into which all things have happily been assumed by the risen Lord. There is no possibility of mature faith-growth unless, between the beginning and the end of its spectrum, there is inserted personal, incommunicable experience of en-trance into the mystery of Christ's dying and rising. The problem today is a growing tendency to skip the + + + Maturity and Discernment" VOLUME 27, '1968 591 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 passion and death in an attempt to establish the Resur-rection. We need more than ever a spiritual awareness of the contemporary dimensions of the passion and death, such as you find in St. Paul who identifies the mystery of Christ's nekrosis with his own experiences of suffering, persecution, and rejection in the apostolate and. ministry . of the word. The word "mystery" in this context means a human experience of the Word made flesh such as we imply when we speak of the "mysteries" of the rosary Or when we contemplate the "mysteries of the public life of Jesus." The definitive mystery of the Word made ttesh is His redemptive experience of dying and rising, which is the matrix of all Christian formation and maturity. Growth and formation involve the development of a conscious love relationship with the Lord. Lovers are those who share intimately each other's experiences of joy and suffering and know by experience the depth and the breadth and the mystery of the unique other. The Lord has this kind of knowledge of us--a knowledge which can become the friendship of .mutual love only if we dwell also in this kind of knowledge of Him. Therefore, our entrance into His mystery of passion and death implies, in the first place, a growth in our aware-ness of His complete entrance into our mystery, His complete appropriation of our personhood and life ex-perience. Neither this awareness nor the experience of entry into His mystery are vague abstractions. His definitive entrance into our present life was by a very real dying and rising. It is this experience of His that has become the key to our faith-awareness of Him. Thus, His suffer-ing, dying, rising, unfold anew in our life experience because of our intimate, mutual involvement with Him, revealed by faith. Conclusion The real spiritual theology of action, of renewal, and of labor (including the labors of the apostolate and min, istry of the word), centers on this contemporary sharing in Christ's redemptive death and resurrection. You will find this everywhere in St. Paul, for instance in I Corin-thians 1:3 ft. and 4:7 ff: "The sufferings of Christ abound in us, the consolation in you"; or again: "We are con-tinually carrying about in our bodies the dying state of Jesus so that the living state of Jesus may be manifest in our bodies too." So, too, Paul speaks of the personal mandate through Christian baptism of entering into the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection, which implies finding the dimensions of His mystery as it is realized concretely in one's own. This Will involve a personal sharing of the emptying-out or kenosis of Christ, an experience of hu-man b~irrenness, agony, and dereliction out of which alone can emerge the marvelous truthfulness of the Lord rising in our personal world, today. I do not think this is going to be appreciated if it is merely described, as I do here. It is something that must be learned from experience under the guidance of that kind of spiritual discernment that calls a thing by its right name, as it is occurring in a man's experience. No natural terms or categories are sufficient, to capture the meaning of this experience of.entry into the mystery of Christ that is ours. Hence, the language of faith is the principal language to be used in spiritual direction and discernment. Nobody can accomplish for me this work of collabora-tion with Christ to which I am personally called. With-out personal inner encounter I have knowledge only of a kind of "unknown God," which really is no knowl-edge at all; and the danger of not knowing God is of be-coming adokimos, someone of an undiscerning mind, who knows created reality by experience without dis-cerning the Lord and Creator. This was the failure of the pagans according to Romans 1:18 ft., where Paul degcribes their decline through various stages of degrada-tion because they were unable to discern the will and love of the Lord of all creation. The human conversation with God was broken off in the garden of Eden, not because God stopped speaking to man but because man stopped listening to God. All sacred history recounts the restoration not only in the individual but in the city of man of the ability to listen to the word olz God articulated in the contemporary events and realities of each successive age, as in a con-tinuing kaleidoscope of the Lord's presence articulated in the eternal '~today" of man's relationship to his Lord. The builders of the tower of Babel were dispersed by God because they attempted to build the city on their own, without His initiative, His word. Abraham, in the next chapter, is the one in whom the listening to God's word historically begins to be restored. Eventually, the city image of Babel in Chapter 11 of Genesis, the city which is almost a bad word in theearly parts of Scrip-ture, becomes the very end-time symbol of the awareness of God's intimate presence and conversation in Apoc-alypse 21, where the new city created by God, the new Jerusalem, needs neither temple nor source of light other than God Himself and his Son the Lamb. Eventually, the Lord who is Father and the Lamb will themselves be both temple-of worship and source of light for the city of man. This symbol marks the terminal point of + + + Maturity and Discernment VOLUME "27, 1968 593 + ÷ ÷ D. T.'Asselin, REVIE~FOR RELIGIOUS community salvation. If you read Apocalypse 21, you will find that the individual relationship to the Lord emerges as perfect along with the destructured com-munity relationship to the Lord: "He who overcomes shall possess these things, and I will be his God, and he shall be my son" (Ap 21:7). There is no opposition, then, between the community-growth and individual fulfillment. We reach full person-hood in the community of the Lord's people by sharing an awareness of God's personal presence and glory. We celebrate this in our daily Eucharist. We announce these Christian facts of life and we promote them, there. We increase and grow in our realization of them by listening privately and together to the word of God, and together and in private responding wholeheartedly. In conclusion I should like to indicate a fundamental criterion by which the authenticity of faith-growth and spiritual discernment must. always be measured. The fundamental attitude of the believer is of one who lis-tens. It is to the Lord's utterances that he gives ear. In as many different ways and on as many varied levels as the listener can discern the word and will of the Lord mani-fested to ,him, he must respond with all the Pauline "obedience of faith." Obedience always implies an attitude of listening, signified by the Latin ob-audire and Greek hupo-akouo. It is the attitude of receptivity, passivity, and poverty of one who is always in need, radically dependent, con-scious of his creaturehood. Freedom, faith-growth, and spiritual maturity must always begin with fundamental obedience to the Lord's laws, directives, and providence for the individual and the community. The evolution of faith to spiritual adulthood is measured not by neglecting or escaping these basic divine dispositions so as to be no longer bound by them, but rather by transcending external laws and prescriptions so as to be bonnd more deeply and intimately by the greater demands of an internal law uttered in the heart. One is always bound by general law and principle and by external authority legitimately exercised, but one can transcend this dimension as the motive of response to the Lord to the degree that one can discern and obey the internal law of love imprinted in the heart by the Spirit, establishing the new covenant announced by Jeremiah 31:31 ft. Bound by external law and authority, our faith-growth consists in being moved by the internal: "Caritas Christi urget nosl" No internal discernment of the Lord's will and vocation is valid if it disobeys or degtroys the Lord's external dispositions exercised by legitimate auo thority and institution. There is only one Spirit breath-ing on many levels where and how He wills. The authentic maturity of faith by spiritual discern-anent will manifest itself in a fourfold reconciliation of man, matching the fourfold human conflict introduced by man's primitive disobedience: a reconciliation (1) with the Lord in a Spirit of prayerful sonship crying "Abba," (2) within oneself by the peace that replaces the shame of guilt, (3) with one's neighbor by the love that replaces anger and fear, (4) and with ktisis or physical creation by a resurrection. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 ". . 595 BERNARD LEE, S~M. The Spring Wants to Come: A Study in Community ÷ ÷ ÷ Bernard Lee, S.M., is on the fac-ulty of St. Mary's High School; 4701 South Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 6311 I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 596 Introduction I had originally intended to cast these introductory remarks into footnotes in very brief form. But a discus-sion and very helpful critique with members of my communi.ty suggested the importance of beginning with two observations that appear necessary for keeping the discussion in the" right context. The first point is this: what the article is not is a comparison between art and community life in which certain aesthetic principles are analogically applied to community. Beauty is a transcendental, and it is a real characteristic-of all that is. There are degrees of beauty and kinds of beauty. It can be recognized and experi-enced. Like many of the practical items we use and need, community is a practical response to a need: psychologi-cal needs stemming from our social nature, pragmatic needs for coping with the world around us. But over and above this, both the practical items and the practical community are capable of being works of art, pieces of beauty, as well. The application of asesthetic principles to community life is, therefore, a direct application of principles that are, in the philosophical sense, proper to it. This second introductory remark might seem a bit academic for the discussion that follows. But it has to do with basic presuppositions that govern the thought of the article. The characterization of beauty that I use is based very much upon the thgught of Alfred North Whitehead, the whole of his thought, but in particular his treatment of beauty in Adventure of Ideas. What is presumed is a world of reality whose nature is to be in process. Process is at the heart of the way things are. Process is reality. And an important qualifidation of this process is that it is evolutionary; it is directed to the creation of higher: forms and modes of existence. In Aristotelian thought the possibility of changing neces-sarily implies imperfection: "All change is by its nature an undoing" (Physics, IV, 222b). But in process philos-ophy, change is actually constitutive of reality. Becoming is no longer inferior to being. This obviously affects a philosophy of beauty--and therefore a philosophy of community--because process will be constitutive of beauty as well as of being. This is not the place to attempt a further characteri-zation of process philosophy. May I instead retommend the brief but superb introduction Charles Hartshorne wrote for Browning's Philosophers of Process, and the excellent second part of Eulalio Baltazar's Teilhard and the Supernatural which treats in more detail "The Phi-losophy of Process." The implications of all ttiis for theology and spirituality are immense--so immense that it almost seems ludicrous to toss off the observation so casually. I would like to conclude these introductory re-marks with some lines from Rilke: What keeps you from projecting His birth into times That are in the process of becoming, And living your life Like a painful and beautiful day In the history of a great gestation? For do you not see How everything that happens Keeps on being a beginning Since beginning is in itself Always so beautiful?. These very days Of your transition Are perhaps the time When everything in you Is working at him. And think that the least We can do is to make His becoming Not more difficult for Him Than theearth ¯ Makes its for the Spring When it wants to come. --Rainer Maria Rilke Community The history of humanity is the history of an evolution towards a more finely wrought community. The evolu-tion is not unmarked by failures, neither in the past nor now. But progress has been steady. And higher com-munity has normally been achieved when the demands 4, 4, ÷ Community VOLUME 27, 597 ÷ ÷ Bernar~ I=~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 598 of new social conditions have been responded to crea-tively. Today is a day of new demands, and we are on the verge of higher community if we can bring to those demands an adequately creative response. The movement towards the perfection of community has always been a part of human history, but a new inner urgency is communicated to the movement in Christ who calls men to brotherhood in God's love: "This solidarity must be constantly increased until that day on which it will be brought to perfection. Then, saved by grace, men will offer flawless glory to God as a family beloved of God and of Christ their brother" (gaudium et spes, § 32). In this discussion we would like to deal with the dynamics of building community. And here dynamics must bear the full weight of its meaning; for the evolutionary nature of community among men neces-sarily implies movement and change, trial and error, mutual tensions and continual interactions. The para-dox is that these factors are not manifestations of rest-lessness and caprice, but are the only basis for in-tensified solidarity. There are many valid points of departure for a dis-cussion of community. Our point of departure Will be aesthetic. It is peculiar to man, of all earth's creatures, to recognize beauty, to be moved and exhilarated by it. Because the quest for beauty and the response to it are both deeply human and deeply humanizing, we ought to be conscious of the beauty of community life that we work towards. We must even make that beauty a conscious aim--for it goes way beyond simply making community through the common task of meeting practi-cal exigencies; it calls us to create community. Throughout this discussion we will be thinking es-pecially of "community" in religious life. But the prin-ciples should be valid and operative within any social structure. The plan of this discussion is as follows. We will first talk about beauty and the degrees of harmony that mark it (and also that mark community life). Then we will try to show how greater intensity is possible in beauty (and how this is related to the perfection of community life). Then, from the psychological point of view of man's enjoyment of beauty, we will discuss the "move-ment" that is demanded by human appreciation of beauty (and the "movement" that is demanded for a constant human satisfaction with community life). I can recall having been asked for a reaction to some piece of architecture or other, and having replied that while I didn't really think it was great, it was at least pleasing and didn't jar. That something "isn't jarring" is an acknowledgement of at least a minor form of beauty, an absence of elements that would disturb the harmony. There are many elements in an art work (color in painting, rhythm, tone, and harmony in music) that might be independently quite pleasing, but which to-gether in certain combinations inhibit beauty. It is pos-sible to juxtapose two brilliant colors so that when they are together the b,rillance of neither comes through fully, though alone each would be striking. In this case there is a mutual inhibition that keeps either color from rising to the strength proper to it. It is likewise possible in music to counter two rhythms ~o each other in suchwise that neither is discernible; of course, a counterplay of two rhythms might well put each of the rhythms in bolder relief and make them easier to ap-preciate. In the first case, the mutual incompatibility of two rhythms is not only inhibitive of beauty, the two elements are actually destructive of each other. A minor form of beauty, oi: pleasingness, then, consists in the absence of elements that are either destructive of one another, or that keep each other from rising to the strength proper to each. This same aesthetique applies to community. When the fact of community is the result of the juxtaposition. of certain individuals within the same house, and not much more than that, the minor form of beauty just described.is probably the limit of communitarianbeauty available. There is a certain smoothness and harmony that results from not having personalities that are to-tally incompatible, and from having personalities that are enough alike (or have been made so by the repres-sion of differences) that they do not inhibit each other member from "being himself." The walls of a living room may be painted a 'very pleasing color and may provide quite a satis[actory experience. But if the walls are done in several colors, and if furnishings are chosen which blend and con-trast, much attention has to be given to composition. Two colors which cannot be tolerated next to each other might, in composition with a third and fourth color, give a heightened aesthetic experience not possible with the minor beauty of the one-color room. For this height-ened aesthetic experience derived from a contrast of contents, composition becomes increasingly important. For each element must stand in relation to every other element as well as to the whole. This is the only con-dition under which different elements can, by virtue of their very differences, not simply coexist juxtaposed, but become a truly powerful experience together. And there is a corollary to this. Not only does the individual element help heighten the aesthetic value of the compo- + + ÷ Community VOLUME 27, ~.968 ,599 + 4. 4. Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS sition as a whole, but the whole itself ~s a setting for the individual element enhances the individual element. The whole uses and profits from that which is most unique in the individual element. It is what is different about this individual element that heightens the effect" of good composition. But that difference only becomes valuable and desirable in this setting of effective con-trast. Alone it is. well, just different. Again, ~his aesthefique applies to community living. A more intense community experience is possible through effective contrasts of personalities. This can only be a reality if ther6 is a community consciousness directed toward the creation of such a "composition." A minor form of beauty attained simply through the absence of jarring elements does not put upon "relationship" the premium it has in the heightened aesthetic experience towards which we work. "Relationship" is the basis of composition, and it requires conscious and deliberate effort to bring it off. By conscious effort we cannot mean a belabored preoccupation with improving or building interpersonal bonds--that is almost doomed to failure by the artificiality that would destroy what can only be fully natural, or else not be at all. But it does mean being quite conscious of the fact that differ-ences between us are the seed of greater community beauty. It does mean consciously and openly and hon-estly dealing with differences rather than shu~ing them under the carpet in favor of a minor and easier harmony. It is from the very desirable (and often painful) per-sonal confrontations in view of differences that such consciousness occasions interpersonal relationships really happening, and "composition" really occurring. And be-cause we are human beings, something happens in the composition of good community that does not happen in the'composition of good art: we individual elements have to stretch ourselves intellectually, socially, emo-tionally, psychologically, to contain the contrasts of our community. But what grow.th! And growing pains too. Only a community like this can address itself to the yearning of the contemporary man who wants to be where the personal identity he has worked so hard foI is 'appreciated and desired. He wants to be part of a community that challenges him to become and, in be-coming, to be his unique self. Only an aesthetique of striving for great communitarian beauty can provide for a whole that frames rather than swallows individuality. A beautiful nature scene which is exciting on a 16mm screen might well be overwhelming on the Cinerama screen. This introduces a new consideration into our discussion of beauty. There is something about the hu-man spirit, perhaps allied to the appetite for tran- scendence, that makes it reach out for what is grand. "A man's reach must exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven for?" Traditionally, being big-souled is being virtuous: magnanimity. In our aesthetic satisfaction there is a certain proper kind of intensity just in comparative magnitude. Nor is this to devalue the beauty of small delicate things--there are beautiful things that would suffer violence in enlargement. Yet it does remain true that sheer magnitude awakens the human spirit and issues a call to it to be likewise grand. This is as true of the aesthetic exlSerience as of other realms of our. ex-perience. Let us again apply our aesthetique to community life. Perhaps we should begin with the acknowledgement that there is a kind of intensity in the relationship between two friends that cannot be enlarged to a whole com-munity- this would be a naive aim. Yet on the other hand, there is a magnificence in the spirited unity of a large community that is an inspiration to behold, and that is an even greater inspiration to be part of. There is a strength and a power in such a unity. Of course, in speakirig of comparative magnitude as adding strength to beauty, we mean not sheer size alone, but one that is marked by the aesthetic qualities we dis-cussed already. The final point in our discussion of the qualities of aesthetic perfection has to do with variety of detail. Variety of detail can be worked at in many ways. The baroque and rococo are not our ways. But variety is im-portant even in an age that wants its architecture to have a naked beauty often drawn from nothing more or less than the unadorned structural elements. Variety of detail, then, is not extravagance. It is variation and contrast that, from a negative point of v.iew, prevents monotony and boredom; and, from a positive point of view, adds interest and excitement. This aesthetic qual-ity is somewhat akin to the previous one we spoke of. There is a grandeur in variety of detail. Mere variety is not the point; the variety must be well composed so that the contrast is effective. But all else being equal, variety of detail does add an aesthetic perfection. And, of course, variety exacts a keener attention to insure such an ef-fective composition. It doesn't just happen. Effective unity does not just happen in a community marked by a great variety of temperaments and per-sonalities. It can only be brought about by careful and patient care. Again, that must be conscious effort. It cannot happen unless a community has decided that it wills to work for a greater degree of communitarian beauty and then has begun the communitarian creativity which alone can bring it off. + ÷ ÷ Community ¯ VOLUME 27, 1968 601 Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 At this point something should be said about discord and disharmony, about their positive worth and de-sirability, or rather, about the circumstances in which they are desirable. Effective contrast of different elements makes possible a higher form of beauty. It is discord which makes known the fact that different elements are present which have not been unified in effective contrast. It is dis-cord, then, that points a finger to the spot where at-tention is needed, where effective relating is needed, to incorporate these different elements into a community which will be richer for having taken them unto its own. Even if the minor forms of communitarian beauty have been attained quite well, it is probably humanly im-possible to move to a higher form based on effective contrast without experiencing discord. The discord must be expected. It must be welcomed as the herald of something better to come if it can be dealt with openly and sincerely. And it must not linger to haunt the new unity when it is born. In music the transition from a single tone into a harmony might well--and often does--pass through an intermedi~i(e disharmony. That disharmony often serves to heighten the experience of a ricli harmony which it (even in its split second existence) teased us into yearn-ing for. The application to many of the disharmonies of community life is obvious enough to need no com-mentary. Thus far we have discussed, from a somewhat philo-sophical point of view, the qualities of what is beauti-ful, the qualities which occasion the aesthetic experience for the human spirit. We would like to turn now to the human spirit~ and from that point of view discuss one further factor of prime i.importance in'our experience of beauty. So let us speak of the human spirit. There is a certain restlessness that makes it tire'of repetition. Even if it ha~ accommodated itself to the ease of repetition, it is un-likely that much of the deeper yearning of the human spirit can thus be satisfied. It can at best be anaesthe-tized. Clumsily but accurately rendered, the word "an-aesthetized" means unbeautied, deadened to the aes-thetic. Even beauty can anaesthetize when it is endlessly repeated in the same form. "Perfection will not bear the tedium of indefinite repetition" (Whitehead). To sus-tain the ardor of aesthetic enjoyment requires a con-stant' search for new perfection. Sometimes the new perfection need not even be a higher one, only an equal perfection. The new experience keeps the spirit aes-thetically intent, alive, and active. Change for the sake of change is capricious. But change, even when the practical situation does not de-mand it, even when the new thing is not an improve-ment, may still be quite desirable if it can sustain the intensity of our aesthetic experience of communitarian beauty. We must emphasize again that conscious recog-nition of striving for communitarian beauty as it has been described is a necessary context for welcoming change and movement and variation. Outside of this context, the change that is not pragmatically necessary is indeed obnoxious. If a com.munity has opted to strive for higher forms o[ beauty in its life together, the element of change needs attention; but to some extent it will take care of itself. The texture of a community changes with every personnel change. The addition or subtraction 6f even one member is bound to affect the quality of a com-munity that has determined its "composition" in view of each unique individual member, ff one member o~ a community has grown and been enriched through per-sonal, experience, the community grows too and accom-modates itself to the new experience within it. In this way each community should have a personality of its own, a beauty of its own that is particular to this com-munity because it is composed of these unique, indi-vidual persons. To the extent that communities have not achieved a beauty characteristic of each, one com-munity will look quite the same as any other. And per-haps we should be reminded here by Bishop Robinson that God is as much in the rapids as in the rocks. Nor is all of this discussion without import for that celebration of community which is the Eucharist. We h~ve probably all reflected how daily repetition of Mass ~can weaken the quality of our experience of it. I think we salve the situation too unctuously by countering that the eye of faith sees behind any possible tedium in the daily repetition. Mass is not simply the presence of God through the signs of bread and wine; the full symbol is the community that is gathered there to further in-tensify its unity in the breaking of one bread and the sharing of a Common cup. Because each community is-- or should be--unique, it must vitalize its celebration of the Eucharist by finding ways of expressing its unique-ness (and thus its beauty) in Mass, for this is how the community offers to God what is most beautiful to Him. The dynamic interaction of individuals in community is constantly modifying the texture of community, be it ever so little. There is, then, the challenge always to find new ways of offering God the new beauties that come to be in our midst, the new Beauties that ARE our Midst. ÷ ÷ ÷ ~,ommunity VOLUME 27, 1968 603 JOHN COWBURN, S.J. The Analogy of Religious Authority and Obedience ÷ ÷ ÷ John Cowburn, s.J., is a faculty member at Loyola College; Watsonia, Victoria S087; Aus-tralia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In discussions of authority it is sometimes assumed, I think, that the authority of a father over his children is the first experienced and universally understood form of authority, and that all other forms of authority are ultimately analogous to it. On the basis of these as-sumptions, then, other forms of authority are explained by comparing them with this primordial form: God's authority over us is explained as being that of a father; the pope is called the Holy Father, bishops are told to be like fathers to their priests and people, pastors like fathers to their parishioners, and religious superiors like fathers and mothers to their subjects; and secular rulers, too, are thought to be like fathers to their subjects. On the other hand, it has been maintained that every form of authority is completely sui generis, so that argu-ments a pari from one form to another are never valid; or that, whatever may be said about secular forms of authority, at any rate the kinds of authority found in the Church are not analogous to natural forms, so that it is not really enlightening to compare them with these. Since, however, theology continually presupposes that analogy is possible and that one can argue by means of it, and since the. gospel has always been preached with the aid of analogies, it is surely reasonable to suppose that analogy can be used in discussions of authority. And if this is agreed on, perhap~ it can also be agreed that the family is the fundamental human society, that all forms of authority are ultimately analogous to forms of au-, thority found in the family, and that reflection on au-thority and obedience as they are exercised there can be helpful for an understanding of the nature of religious authority (not to mention other forms) and of the way in which it ought to be exercised. What I wish to question, however, is that this means that all authority, including that of the religious superior, is analogous to that of a father over his children--but I anticipate. Authority in the Family A family, surely, should not be seen simply as a group of people one of whom has authority over all the others. Rather, it should' be seen as constituted by two different relationships, or kinds of relationship: there is the re-lationship which binds the husband and wife to each other, and there are the relationships which bind the parents to the children and the children to the parents. Both these relationships involve authority on one side, and the.~recognition of that authority, or obedience, on the other: a husband is the head of the couple formed by his wife and himself, and she promises to love, honor and obey him; and of course parents have authority over their children, who owe them obedience. However, I suggest that we find here two distinct kinds of au-thority and obedience, and that reflection quickly shows that there are radical differences between them.1 Firstly, children do not choose to enter a family and they do not choose their parents, but a woman chooses. to marry and to become the wife of this man rather than of any other. The authority of parents over their chil-dren, then, is not given to them by the children, whereas a husband obtains authority over his wife when she freely gives it to him. The facts, that a woman cannot marry a man without giving him authority over her and that the authority once given may not arbitrarily be taken back do not affect the contention that one of the relationships is constituted by the free consent of both parties and the other is not. Secondly, one relationship is essentially between two adults, whereas the other is essentially between adults and children. If this were not obvious already, it could be shown by stating that a woman cannot marry until she is capable of making freely an important decision that will affect her whole life, that is, until she is no longer a child. Thirdly, in a normal family the parents are superior to their children in knowledge, understanding, wisdom, ¯ common sense, fortitude, and almost every other respect, and the lack of these qualities in children is the reason why they are subject to their parents in the way they are. In a normal family, however, the husband and wife are much more nearly equal in human qualities than par-x I have made this contention in The Person and Love (New York: Alba House, 1968), p. 157. (The English edition, published in London by Geoffrey Chapman, is called Love and the Person.) + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 605 ÷ ÷ 1ohn Cowburn, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 60g ents and children are; indeed, if there is very great in-equality a true marriage is virtually impossible. And if in a normal family the husband is usually somewhat older than his wife and in some respects superior to her, this is not the reason why he has authority over her, as is shown by the wives who are actually superior to their husbands in intelligence and other human qualities and who nevertheless give them obedience. That is, if one asks in general why children are always under someone's dominion the answer is that they are incapable of being left in charge of themselves. If, however, one asks why most women are under the dominion of husbands, the answer is not that. It is, one supposes, that for the unity of a couple it is necessary that one partner be the leader and that the other--who, if she were living alone, would be quite capable of looking after herself--accept his leadership. Fourthly, the authority of parents over their children is transient, whereas that of husband over wife is perma-nent. The authority of parents over their children is greatest when the children are small; as they grow up it lessens; eventually, it ceases--for although adults respect their parents they do not strictly speaking owe them obedience. In contrast to this, the authority of husband over wife is constant and permanent. Fifthly, it would be abnormal for a grown person to obey his parents just as he did when he was a child; and to train anyone to obey in this way all his life would be to prevent him from achieving maturity. But it is per-fectly normal for a mature woman to recognize her husband's authority--indeed, to be unwilling to accept or acknowledge this kind of authority would, generally speaking, be a sign of immaturity--and a married woman achieves maturity and fulfillment partly by schooling herself to give recognition and willing obedi-ence to her husband. Sixthly, in both cases the exercise of authority and the obedience are expressions of love: a man gives himself to his wife partly by assuming responsibili.ty for her welfare, with the authority that that responsibility car-ries with it, and she gives herself to him in accepting him as head; and parents express their love for their children by not letting them run wild but authoritatively con-trolling their development, while children show their loving acceptance of their parents by obeying them. However, conjugal love and parental-filial love are surely different in kind; and so the authority and obedi-ence in which they are expressed are also different in kind. We come, th(n, to this conclusion: in a family there are two radically.different kinds of authority and obedio ence. In previous ages, I suppose, people would have disagreed with this by maintaining that the authority of husband over wife is not essentially different from that of father over children. When fathers retained their authority over their daughters .not until these were twenty-one but until they were married; and when fathers chose husbands for their daughters and then led the girls to the altar where they handed them over to the bridegrooms; then it seemed to everyone that it was from her father that a man obtained his authority over his wife, and so it was supposed that his authority was essentially of the same kind as that which the father had had, and men supposed that their wives and children were all subject to their authority in much the same way. Today, however, disagreement with my thesis is likely to take a very different form, for it is now being said that husbands do not have real authority over their wives, and that wives do not strictly speaking owe obedi-ence to their husbands. It is, says Julian Gosling, very unnatural and misleading to describe in terms of "au-thority" and "obedience" the relationship between hus-gand and wife, given that the wife has the right and duty to enter fully with her husband into discussion of any decisions that are to be made.~ But discussion is in-compatible with authority and obedience only if these are understood in a very restricted way; and since even today a husband is in some. sense the head or leader of the couple, it seems reasonable to continue to talk Of con-jugal authority and obedience--provided that these are sharply distinguished from parental authority and filial obedience. Religious Obedience Let us now put the question: to which of these two kinds of authority is that of the religious superior analo-gous? Well, firstly, a person is a Christian by virtue of his own free option, and he is a religious by virtue of a choice which in a sense is even more free, since there is" no obligation to make it. If these facts were once ob-scured, when people thought they were Catholics be-cause they were born citizens of Catholic countries br members of Catholic families, while some people~ were religious because their parents had given them into religion at an early age, they are now very clear. Secondly, the relationship between religious superior and subject i~ essentially between two adults, since a person taking religious vows is presumed to be mature "Rhetoric and Marriage," Month, January, 1967, p. 29. + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 607 enough to do so. Moreover, many reli, gious superiors are younger than some of their subjects. Thirdly, the precise reason why in religious orders. there are superiors and subjects is not that the superiors have knowledge and virtue,' while the subjects are stupid and irresponsible. It may well be that on the average those who are superiors are more gifted than those who are subjects, but if all were equally intelligent and prudent it would still be necessary for religious com-munities to have superiors. Fourthly, the state of religious obedience is not tran-sient, extending only over a period of growth, but life-long. 'Fifthly, if the authority of a religious superior were thought of as being analogous to that of a father over his children, then it would be implied that either the subjects ought to live all their lives in a situation which. is abnormal for mature persons, or else that once they have finished their training they can reasonably consider that they have outgrown obedience, strictly so called, and claim a very large measure of independence. If, however, it is thought of as being analogous to conjugal authority, then obedience presents itself as quite con-sonant with personal maturity; indeed, it becomes rea-sonably easy to see how a religious can achieve personal fulfillment and maturity partly by schooling himself to give recognition and willing obedience to a superior. The conclusion seems inescapable: religious authority and obedience are analogous to conjugal authority and obedience rather than to parental authority and filial obedience,a But is this theologically sound? Firstly, it is traditional doctrine that a religious ought to see Christ in his su-perior. But Christ, surely, was Master to the Apostles and He is our Lord, Master, friend, brother or spouse; but He was not their father and He is not ours. It seems, then, entirely in accord with this traditional doctrine to say that a religious superior is lord or master of his subjects in the way that a husband is the head of a couple, and not in the way that a father is in authority over his children.4 However, secondly, it is also tradi-÷ ÷ ÷ .lohn Cowburn, $o~o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 608 s Karl Rahner says that religious obedience is not analogous to that of children because this is (1) based on lack of knowledge and responsi-bility in the child as compared with the parents; (2) temporary, having as its aim its own eventual disappearance; (3) given by nature, not chosen by personal election ("A Basic Ignatian Concept: Some Reflec-tions on Obedience," Woodstock Letters, v. 86 [1957], pp. 293--4). This is exactly what I maintain, but Rahner does not develop an alterna-tive analogy. ~ Dora Olivier Rousseau writes that St. Benedict "would have the subject see Christ himself in his Abbot with whom he lives con-stantly: Christi enim agere vices in monasterio creditur [abbas]" tional to compare a religious superior to a father or mother. Could it be that this was simply because it was assumed that paternal authority is the basic form of authority to which all other authority---including con-jugal authority--is analogous; and if this assumption is modified, so may the traditional comparison be cor-rected? Some authors begin by affirming that all authority is analogous to that of a father over his children, but they then go on to point out how vastly different is the authority of a religious superior from that of a parent and end by virtually denying their original affirmation.5 It seems more consistent to suppose that all authority is analogous either to that of a father over his children or to that of a husband over his wife; one can then deny that there is any analogy between a religious superior and a parent without coming into conflict with one's own supposition. Qualifications Firstly, let it be clearly stated that, as with every analogy, there are differences between the terms under comparison. The husband-wife relationship is sexual, which the superior-subject one is not. A husband has only one wife, whereas a religious superior may have many subjects. In most religious orders, superiors are regularly changed, as husbands are not. And so on. Secondly, to say that religious authority is analogous to that of a husband is not to say all that can be said about it. That is, this article makes a point about re-ligious authority but does not attempt to give a com-plete account of it. Thirdly, in all I have been saying I have been con-sidering the normal case, which is that of a superior and a formed religious, rather than that of a superior and a religious who is still in training. In his early years a religious is perhaps something of a child in his order, learning the elements of religious life, and the au-thority of superiors over him has something of a pa- (Introduction to Obedience [London: Blackfriars, 1953], p. 15). "The abbot," Dora Olivier then goes on to say as if it followed naturally, "ought to be the father of his community." But this, surely, is pre-cisely what does not follow from St. Benedict's principle. ~ For instance, Desmond F. McGoldrick ~ays that the prototype of "dominative power" is that of parents in the home; but he then--and this is what seems to me to be somewhat inconsistent--plays down and even denies any analogy between a parent and a religious superior (Fostering Development [Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1965], pp. 77-8); and he says: "The attitude which an enlightened Superior should not use towards the other members of the Community is that of the parent-child relationship. She is not a parent; her subjects are not children" (ibid., p. 151). + + + Authority. and Obedience VOLUME 27, lO68 609 ÷ ÷ John Cowbu~n, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6111 rental character; but, firstly, this is plainly not the case to have in mind when working out a theory of religious authority and obedience, hnd, secondly, the authority of stiperiors over subjects in their years of formation ought even then to be mainly "conjugal" and it ought grad-ually to lose its partly parental character as the subject develops. Practical Implications The thesis maintained above has certain practical implications. Firstly, there is frequently a certain "distance" between parents and children, and some fathers even deliberately maintain a degree of aloofness from their children. Also, some political and military leaders, understanding their authority to be quasi-paternal, have quite deliberately kept aloof from their subjects, and they have incited their subjects to think of them as mysterious, superior beings, to be almost worshipped from afar below, and to be obeyed without question in all things. But since no husband should be aloof from his wife, no religious su-perior should be distant from his subjects or use mys-terious aloofness as a device for obtaining unquestioning obedience. Secondly, parents usually call their children by their Christian names or family nicknames, whereas children call their parents by some respectful form of address such as "Father," "Mother," or abridgements of these; but husbands and wives use reciprocal forms of address towards each other. Also, children are frequently taught to adopt a respectful posture when addressing their parents or other adults, at least when asking for some-thing or "being spoken to"; but wives do not as it were stand to attention when a.ddressing their husbands or being addressed by them. It would, then, seem to be nor-mal for a religious to address his superior in much the same way as he would address the same man if he were not the superior--which in many cases means his Chris-tain name, his name in the order, o~ his nickname if he has one. Thirdly, it frequently happens that parents~if one may put it this way--live more expensively than their children do. They do not, for instance, give to their children as much money to spend .on an outing as they themselves would spend; and if from time to time they entertain friends at restaurants they do not make it pos-sible for their children to'entertain thdir friends at those same restaurants. Similarly, in many armies the officers have a higher standard of living than the men. But husbands and wives share and share alike. Of course, it may sometimes happen that a man has an expensive business lunch while his wife, in town for the day, is having a cheap lunch at a department-store cafeteria; but in general they have the same standard of living. Just so, in a religious community superiors and subjects share and share alike, and superiors do not, because they are superiors, have a higher standard of room furni-ture, dress, means of transport, and so on. Fourthly, parents do not ordinarily bring their chil-dren fully into their consultations, but find it su~cient to give them some sort of explanation of whatever de-cisions have been made which affect them, after they have been made. Children for their part exercise filial obedience by trusting their parents and accepting their decisions without argument. Between husbands and wives, however, full consultation is the rule. It may oc-casionally happen that a man must make some decision without consulting his wife, because he is not given enough time to get in touch with her, because the de-cision involves some information which he is obliged to keep secret even from her, or for some other reason; but such an action must be seen as exceptional and in need of a good reason to justify it. In normal circumstances it would be positively wrong for a husband to take an important decision without genuine consultation with his wife--and this means listening to her really seri-ously- for she has a right to be consulted; and for that matter it would be wrong for her to refuse to enter .into consultation, for he has a right to her participation in the decision-making and the responsibility that it en-tails. Usually the final result is a decision which they feel comes from both of them-~either a wife or a hus-band will often say "We have decided" to do this or that--and yet from first to last it is understood between them that the husband is the head, and that the final word rests with him. He feels this and accepts the re-sponsibility that it carries with it; the wife feels it, positively wants it, and participates in the discussion, which may become an argument, in such a way as never to challenge her husband's position but rather always to maintain him in it. In view of this we may perhaps sum up a good deal that is being said about the need for dialogue between religious superiors and their subjects by saying that in the past religious superiors often acted as if they were parents and as if their subjects were children, whereas the superior-subject relationship ought to be modeled on that of husband and wife. That is, in the past superiors did not bring the majority of their subjects into their consultations and merely announced decisions to their subjects after they were made, sometimes adding a brief explanation; and subjects exercised a filial obedience by + + + ,Authority and° Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 611 trusting their superiors and accepting without argument the decisions they made. Now, however, it is everywhere being said that the fullest possible sharing of informa-tion ought to be the rule. Also, while there are times when general discussion is impossible and when su-periors are fully justified in acting on their own, it should be seen as exceptional and as only justified when there are good reasons, for superiors to act without prior consultation of their communities.6 That is, the re-sponsibility for the right government of a community and the carrying out of its work should be shared by all its members--and yet it must be clearly understood and willed by all that the superior is the head of the com-munity, with real authority over its members. In conclusion it might be said, firstly, that present developments are sometimes described--by both those who favor them and those who oppose them--as amount-ing to a change from monarchical to democratic govern-ment in religious orders. It seems better, however, to look for analogies in the family rather than in the po-litical arena, because the family is the fundamental ' human society and also because in the family authority and obedience both plainly spring from love, as they do in the Church. Secondly, it might be said that those who think of the religious superior as essentially analo-gous to a father or mother inevitably see in contemporary developments a weakening of religious authority. If, how- .ever~ they can accept the proposition that the relation-ship between superior and subject is not'as a rule anal-ogous to the parent-child relationship but to the husband-wife relationship, then they will see that con-temporary developments are tending to realize the true nature of religious authority and obedience,, not to weaken them. o Particularly significant, perhaps, is the suggestion which is being made in various quarters that information about the finances of a house and even of a province or an entire order should be made avail-. able to all members of the house, province, or order; for parents do not normally tell their children how much money they have or keep them informed about income and expenses, whereas modern husbands do normally share this information with their wives and discuss finan-cial problems with them. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER M. RUTH FOX, O.S.B. PrOviding an Atmosphere for Personality Growth in the Postulancy Religious life* has long been regarded by many as a mode of living almost wholly distinct from human life. Religious men and women were often in the past looked upon as creatures set apart to live an angelic life, a life free of all that was naturally human. They actually tried to live this way and tried to form the candidates to this life in the same manner. That is, the candidates were put into a mold when they entered the postulancy, and they spent their lifetime assimilating this mold into their very being. This procedure turned out molded religious who were not angelic nor human--nor happy. Today, however, we once again realize the basic Christian belief that our human nature is the greatest natural gift we have. It is to be enhanced, not destroyed, during our temporal life. Therefore, it does not matter what specific work or way of life we undertake, we all have a vocation to be human first of all. We cannot be Christian, much less religious, unless we are first of all human. This realization is especially important for those re-ligious who have the responsibility of "formation" in their communities. These sisters have been entrusted with the growth and maturity of not one but many human personalities. They should .be aware that it is possible in the first years of religious life to completely stunt the natural personality growth of the candidates. * This article was written with the help and supervision of Leo R. Kennedy, Ph.D., Chairman of the Department of Psychology, Creigh-ton University, Omaha. Dr. Kennedy; who has given professional service to many religious communities of men and women, encouraged the publishing of the article in the hopes that the suggestions con-tained in it would be implemented in Sister Formation prggrams. ÷ ÷ ÷ : Sister M. Ruth Fox, O.S.B., is the postulant directress at Sacred Heart Pri-ory; Richardton, North Dakota 58652. VOkUME 27~ 1968 613 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 614 But on the other hand, it is also possible, and impera-tive, to accept the human personality and to help it grow to its fullest capacity.1 In order to help the postulants achieve a mature per-sonality, the directress must first be aware of the char-acteristics of these young women o{ the 1960's. She should also have a kn6wledge of the process of per-sonalit) growth and the means to encourage proper growth. These topics will be discussed in this article. Who are these young women that come to the postu-lancy in 1968-69? Most of them are in their late teens or early twenties; therefore, they belong to a class of our society commonly called young adults. They are no longer adolescents or teen-agers, or at least they are in the last stages of that group. But neither are they adults. So the postulant directress cannot base her guidance of them on either adolescent or adult psychology exclu-sively, but must choose from both. An excellent way to get to know them is to read current articles written by, on, or for young adults. But the articles must be cur-rent. Even to go back to material written in the 1950's could be detrimental, because our young people have different ways of expressing their needs in the 1960's. Though it is true that the basic needs of human nature do not seem to change, there are certain needs that are either more emphasized now or are expressed differently than they were 5, 10, or 100 years ago. In current writing, today's young adults are classified as the New Breed, the Restless Generation, the Hippies, the Now Generation. But no matter what they are called, their main concerns are fulfillment, personalism, honesty, integrity, authenticity, and love.2 They have been raised in an era of prosperity and plenty. When they ask how to find personal worth, they are only told to take another helping from the silver platter. But they see that materialism does not give any meaning to life. They see the American society as a cold, mechanical, abstract, and emotionally mean-ingless place.3 Because society offers them so little that x W. W. Meissner, S.J., Group Dynamics in the Religious Li/e (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1965) presents a thorough discussion of the community's responsibility to foster growth. ~ See John Evoy, S.J., "How Neurotic is the New Breed?" Catholic Mind, v. 64 (December, 1966), pp. 28-42; Daniel Goulding, "The Rest-less Generation," Vital Speeches ol the Day, v. 32 (1966), pp. 506-508; Andrew Greeley, "A New Breed," America, CX, 21 (1964), pp. 706-709 and "A Farewell to the New Breed," America, CXIV, 23 (1966), pp. 801-804; George Herndl, "Time of the Now Generation," Liberal Education, LIII, 2 (1967); "The Hippies: Philosophy of a Subculture," Time, July 7, 1967, pp. 18-22; Robert Jones, "Man of the Year: The Inheritor," Time, January 6, 1967, pp. 18-23. 3See "Meet the Restless Generation," Changing Times, XXI, 6 (June, 1967), pp. 6-11. is meaningful and relevant, they are often forced into cynicism. But they nonetheless wish they could find val-ues, goals, or institutions to which they could commit themselvesA. They reject formal organization, legalism, and out-moded forms and regulations because these seem to stifle individualism. They want to be concerned with persons as persons.5 Perhaps this accounts for their~ emphasis on love and fulfillment. They desperately want to love and be loved for what they are. But they are afraid they are loved only for what they, do. In fact, they have been raised this way: "Do what I tell you, and I will show you I love.you." So they have no real faith in them-selves as persons, no real proof that they are lovable for what they are. Thus they preach love to the world in a frantic effort to find it in themselves and others. Our young people are deeply committed to decency, tolerance, and brotherhood--not as a goal, but as a reality to be lived now. "This generation has no utopia. Its idea is the happening. Let. it be concrete, let it be vivid, let it be personal. Let it be nowl" n Because tomorrow is so unsure and ever changing, today must be lived to the fullest. Living and experiencing cannot b.e postponed. It must be made to happen now. In summary then, the 1968-69 postulant is a member of the Now Generation who comes to the convent not to be "formed into a religious; she comes to be fulfilled as a person." 7 The goal of fulfillment need not frighten the postu-lant directress if she is aware of the process of per-sonality growth. The fundamental theory that should dominate the planning of formation (or fulfillment) is that the growth and development of the candidate must come from within the person. Growth cannot be di-rected from the outside because each individual must develop in terms of his own inner capacities. "The a~- tempt to produce growth by putting man into a mold or demanding conformity is based on a total misunder-standing of man, of his nature and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is sacrificing the person for the con-venience of the system; it is the mechanizing of man. It is a basic lack of respect for the mystery of the human person." 8 If growth and development are individual inner proc- 4 A good presentation of what youth is looking for is found in Erik Erikson, ed., The Challenge of Youth (New York: Doubleday, 1965). ~ Consult the articles by Andrew Greeley mentioned above. o Jones, p. 20. 7 Sister Miriam Rooney, O.P., "The New Breed Enters the Con-vent," C~;oss and Crown, v. 16 (1964), 397. s Paul D'Arcy and Eugene Kennedy, The Genius o] the Apostolate (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965) p. 5. + ÷ ÷ P o stul ancy " . . VOLUME 27, 1968 615 esses, what is the role of the postulant directress? She must provide the atmosphere in which the maximum growth and development are possible. To do this, she must first of all be aware of the psychological process called ego identity. Although this is a lifelong process in which the self links the past, present, and future into one person, there is a crisis of identity which occurs duri.ng late adolescence. At this time the young person realizes he is leaving the security of childhood and entering the uncertainties of young adulthood. He is wavering be-tween what he was and what he hopes to be.a Thus the postulant is seeking to clarify her understanding of who she is and what her role is to be. She is seeking for a sense of self and self-acceptance. "The adolescent hopes to forge for himself a perspective and direction, to achieve an effective integration out of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adult-hood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosis, psychosis, or delinquent behavior." x0 To help the postulant through this identity crisis, the directress must provide her with acceptance and un-derstanding. Experiencing warm acceptance by impor-tant people in one's life is a prerequisite for knowing and accepting oneself. Obviously the important person in the postulant's life is her directress. So if the postu-lant is to grow, she must know she is loved by her superior. This means that the directress must be warm and loving, not just toward the group but toward each individual in the group. She must take each one into her lieart and really love her. She must be so warm and ac-cepting that the postulant would feel free to confide in her all that she was, is, and hopes to be. Each postulant should realize that she would be loved no matter how many unlovable things she may have done or will do. It is in this atmosphere that the girl can admit and accept her feelings and failures. A person who accepts him-self is also secure enough to accept others. So when each postulant can accept herself and the other postulants, a Christian community of love is. Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 616 ~ A complete explanation of the identity process is found in Erik Erikson, lnsight and Responsibility (New York: Norton, 1964) and "Identity and the Life Cycle," Psychological Issues, v. I (New York: International Universities Press, 1959), pp. 111-117, by the same au-thor. The application of the process to religious life is found in Walter DeBont, O.P., "Identity Crisis and the Male Novice," Rrw~w roR RELigiOUS, v. 21 (1962), pp. 104-128; Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace, and Religious Development (Westminster: Newman, 1964); and Sister Thomas More, C.S.J., "Self Identification and Religious Li~e," in The Retreat Master Faces the Nun in the Modern World, ed. John Powell and others (St. MarTs, Kansas: St. Mary's College, 1965). ~ McLaughlin, p. $4. formed. Having experienced a sense of love and security in the postulancy, the young woman is better prepared to be an apostle of love. Not only should the directress be warm and loving, but the very surroundings in the convent should reflect this feminine warmth. Why can't postulancies (and con-vents) look homey? Warmth and growth would be en-couraged by such things as colorful drapes on the windows; a vase of flowers on the table, pictures '(not just saints!) on the wall, end tables cluttered with cur-rent magazines and newspapers, family photographs on the piano, a knitting bag on the floor. If we have nor-mal healthy conditions, we will. foster normal healthy growth. Many times, normal people leave our convents because they cannot lead abnormal lives in abnormal living conditions. Let's keep the normal ones111 In an atmosphere of warmth and affection, the postu-lant will feel more free to be herself, and her per-sonality will thus grow in a healthful manner. To make her growth and establishment of identity easier, the directress should realize another difficulty that the postu-lant faces. If the girl experienced normal adolescent de-velopment, she probably established a certain sense of identity before her entrance into the convent. She had a secure place in her family and probably had definite responsibilities to fulfill at home. She possessed ~a certain status in her peer group and perhaps held offices of importance in her high school or college. But in entering the religious community, all these former securities and relationships are either greatly modified or broken en-tirely. She is no longer able to live her identity in the same way. Therefore, to give her a sense of security and continuity, couldn't these healthy relationships be al-lowed to continue? The postulant's family was the main environment for her personality growth since birth. Should it suddenly be .discarded as if it were no longer of value? "The breakdown of family ties magnifies the identity crisis." 12 Thus the postulant's family should feel free and welcome to visit her anytime. Frequent letters should be en-couraged. Perhaps she could go home for weddings, graduations, anniversaries, and an occasional weekend. There is no apparent reason for cutting off all ties with her former friends either. Letters should be allowed to come and go without inspection or limitation. As the postulant gets involved with college and new friend- ~ See Eugene Kenned)', M.M., "Differentiated Discipline in the Seminary," National Catholic Education Association Bulletin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), pp. 79--89. m Joseph Simmons, C.S.C., "The Catholic College Student: His War against Protection," Ave Maria, CIV, 16 (October 15, 1966), p. 6. 4. 4- Postulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 617 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR REI;IGIOUS 618 ships, the letters will gradually decrease. Perhaps rthe postulant's closest friends could spend a weekend with her at the convent. (This would not only .be good for ,her, but also for the convent's public relations program.) Discarding uniforms for the postulants might also favor personality growth. If the postulant continues ¯ wearing' the same dresses she wore before entrance, she has another source of security. At a time when many former securities are left behind, this will give her a sense of identity with her past. It might also help to abolish the notion that "the habit makes the nun." Such a notion is harmful because the postulant may ex-pect the uniform to produce automatic changes in her behavior. She is thus disappointed in herself and in the life when she discovers that she remains the same per-son. Perhaps there is a reason for the donning of a habit at the time of reception into the ,novitiate or at profes-sion of vows. But it seems that at this time of identity crisis, the postulant would be "more secure in her own clothing. Obedience also poses a problem for the directress and the postulants. Today's youth feel that obedience de-stroys their freedom and perhaps smothers their in-dividual identity. They will ordinarily not refuse to obey; but before carrying out a command, they want to sit down and discuss th~ "why" of it with the superior. This is not to be taken as disrespect or unwillingness to obey. They only wish to obey in a more human manner by understanding what they are doing.13 When they un-derstand, they are able to commit themselves to the deed in a responsible manner. If the directress can find no r~asonable answer to the postulant's question, "Why should I~do this?" perhaps it should not be done. Even occasional rebellion on the part of an individual may be a healthy assertion of self. Though often referred to as obedience, strict ad-herence to rules and schedules is frequently an escape from responsible, decision making. Directresses should provide as many opportunities as possible for the postu-lants to make their own decisions. It is difficult to see how this can be accomplished if every minute of the day is scheduled for the girls. Other college girls of their age devise their own schedules. They decide the times to study, to write letters, to ~lean their rooms, to retire. A postulant- will soon learn that if she spends all her study time reading novels or watching TV, she will begin to fail in her college classes. She learns this through per-sonal expgrience the hard way. But this is much more ~ See Stafford Poole, C.M., "The New Breed and the Old Semi-nary," Jubilee, XIII, 2 (June, 1965), pp. 8-13. effective in producing healthy growth in responsibility than if she were simply told the first night in the con-vent: "We study from 8:00 to I0:00 every night." The minimizing of rules and scheduled living is not a relaxation. It is just putting responsibility where it be-longs, on the person. It is changing enforced discipline to self-discipline. Related to rules and schedules is the assignment of household chores such as cleani.ng, ironing, and washing dishes. It is certainly profitable for all members of a community to participate in keeping house. These tasks should be looked upon as means of serving the other members o[ the community. Again, as much initiative as possible should be left to the girls in deciding when and how to do the work. They could also decide among themselves who would do what, and how often they wanted to exchange tasks. These are just a few of the small but important ways in which postulants can be encouraged to grow in maturity. "When we take youngsters out of high school who are still adolescents--a rebellious stage, still longing for adult status--and never let them get a taste of what it means to be an adult, what can we expect but that they will be unhappy subjects." 14 Too often, our candi-dates are not only kept in adolescence, but are even thrown back to childhood. We can help them grow into adulthood simply by giving them trust and responsi-bility. 15 However, there is really not much initiative and re-sponsibility involved in pushing a broom, and a young woman's need for self-actualization is not met in this way. College girls of our day see themselves as creative and productive, and they have great social concern.1~ They want challenging and difficult work with little intervention from others. If they are not stimulated in this direction, they may withdraw into themselves or develop other signs of maladjustment. If we wish to have zealous sisters, we must not let this youthful enthusiasm of the postulant wither while she is busy writing term papers and wiping dishes. Since she is a member of the Now Generation, she wants to do something meaningful for others now. She wants to undertake a task where there is a definite need for her services and self. In doing a~ John Evoy, S.J., and Van Cristoph, S.J., Personality Development in the Religious LiIe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 183. an A very helpful book is Psychological Aspects of Spiritual Develop-ment, Michael O'Brien and Raymond Steimel, ed., (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1964). a0 See Elizabeth Monroe Drews, "Counseling for Self-actualization in Gifted Girls and Young Women," Journal of Counseling Psy-chology, XII, 2 (Summer, 1965), pp. 167-175. ÷ ÷ ÷ P ostulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 619 Sister M. ~ Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 620 a task in which she i~ needed, the young woman comes to 'see her own personal worth. "Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic' value, that he is im-portant, worthwhile." lz It often happens in the religious life that people who want to do great things are de-mobilized. But it should be realized that it is a sign of health if a person longs to do something important with his life.is Since postulants are expected to be normal young women, they should be allowed to fulfill this normal need by doing something meaningful for others. Op-portunities within the convent can be found to satisfy some of this need. The older sisters, especially those in the infirmary, need and appreciate the friendship of youth. And youth, in turn, can profit greatly from the wisdom and experience of age. The postulants should be permitted the enrichment of their personalities by close association with all the other members of the com-munity. A meaningful apostolate for action should also be sought outside the convent. Some areas of investigation might be the parish CCD program, high school or young adult discussion clubs, Newman Club, homes for the aged, hospitals, schools, and so forth. Of course, these are only temporary apostolates, but they will satisfy the need for meaningful action now. Howevdr, the postulant must also be well aware of the !ongterm goal toward which she is working. That is, she should have some idea of her future status in the com-munity so that she sees her future role in the group as an important one, one that is worthwhile waiting for. In the fulfillment of self-enjoined and community-appointed apostolates, the postulant will reveal her psy-chological maturity. The directress should watch for manifestations of inferidrity feelings, egotism, undue competitiveness, hbstility, rigidity, and a false sense of reality.~9 Because the girls are not conforming to rigid standards of performance, their personal strengths and weaknesses will appear. The directress can then counsel them accordingly and either help them to grow toward maturity or to realize that they would find greater ful-fillment in another way of life. One other means of providing an atmosphere favor-able to personality growth will be mentioned. Postu-lants, like other normal young women, negd to be free to agsociate with young people of their own age who are 1~Thomas Dubay, S.M., "Psychological Needs in the Religious Context," REvmw FOR Ra~LIGXOUS, V. 21 (1962), p. 525. ~s Refer' to the article by Eugene Kennedy noted above. ~ Trafford Maher, s.J., Lest We Build on Sand, (St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Association, 1962), pp. 203-208. not necessarily in the religious state. Means should some-how be provided for them to meet and make friends out-side the convent on an intellectual and social level. They will grow through these new interpersonal relationships, for in growing concerned and interested in others, there is a loss of self-centeredness. In listening to the prob-lems of a new college girl friend, the postulant may come to appreciate her own life more. And in relating to a boy of her own age, she will grow in maturity and womanliness. Yes, the postulant should have contact with boys. She grew up amid boys in her family, neighborhood,: and school. She hopefully had the experience of dating. Now after she enters the convent, why should the sight of a person of the opposite sex be denied her? Will the sight of a boy suddenly be harmful to her? It would be so much healthier if she could continue to relate to young men of her own age especially. In relating to them, she grows in femininity, which is very important to her as a young woman. If there is a danger to chastity, if the postulant is not able to control her sexual drives, then it is certainly best for her and for the community to find this out soon. How sad it is for women who have taken vows to discover they cannot speak to a man on the school faculty or a doctor on the staff without becom-ing either rigid and afraid or sexually stimulated. To permit these healthful relationships with other young people, the postulants could be permitted tO at-tend (sometimes without their directress) Newman Club gatherings, interfaith meetings, weekend retreats, and an occasional evening concert or drama. Healthful personality growth in the convent does not just happen. The proper atmosphere has to be prepared and sustained. This is the task of the postulant di-rectress. She must know the characteristics and needs of the young women she is guiding. She must accept and love them unconditionally and provide them with op-portunities for growth in love, responsibility, and womanliness. "Every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality development together with (and we might add because of) their achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity." ~0 SUPPLEMENTARY ]~IBLIOGRAPHY Allport, Gordon. Pattern and Growth in Personality. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961. Cameron, Norman. Personality Development and Psychopathol-ogy: A Dynamic Approach. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1963. Edward Carney, OSFS. "The Seminary Rule," National Catholic ~0 Dubay, p. 523. ÷ ÷ Pos~laney VOLUME 27, 1%8 62] Education Association Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 108-114. D'Arcy, Paul."'Differentlated Seminary Discipline," NCEA Bul-letin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), 85-91. Dignan, Sister Howard, B.V.M. "Identity and Change in Re-ligious Life," RrvIEw fOR RV.LICIOUS, XXV, 4 (July, 1966), 669-677. Dondero, Autin, F.S.C. No Borrowed Light: Mental Health for Religious. Milwaukee: Bruce, 1965. Frick, Willard. "Healthy Interpersonal Relationships'. an Ex-ploratory Study," Journal of Individual Psychology, XXIII, 1 (May, 1967), 59-66. Gallen, Joseph, s.J., "Femininity and Spirituality," REVIEW for RrL~G~OUS, XX, 4 (July, 1964), 237-256. Goldberg, Arthur. "J.uvenatrics'. Study of Prolonged Adoles-cence," The Cleartng House, XLI, 5 (December, 1966), 218- 222. Hargadon, Kevin, F.S.C. "Psychological Requirement for Re-ligious Vocation," National Catholic Guidance Conference Journal, X, 4 (Summer, 1966), 271-279. Huyghe, Gerard. Tension and Change: The Problems of Re-ligious Orders Today. Westminster: Newman, 1966. McKinney, Fred. Psychology o[ Personal ~ld]ustment. New York: Wiley, 1941. Maher, Trafford, S.J. Self--.4 Measureless Sea (Cou.nseling: Theory and Practice). St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Associa-tion, 1966. Regan, Francis. "Authority and Obedience in Seminary Train-ing," NCE/1 Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 103-107. Rogers, Carl. On Becoming a Person. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960. Schneiders, Alexander. "Adolescence and the Challenge of Ma-turity," National Catholic Guidance ConIerence Journal, X, 2 (Winter, 1966), 109-117. Simmons, Joseph, C.S.C. "Seminary as Institution," Catholic Education Review, LXIV, 26 (February 1966), 97-105. Stafford, John, C.S.V. "The Religious Rule and Psychological Development," Rrvxv.w voR R~ioIo~s, XXV, 2 (March, 1966), 294-304. Van Kaam, Adrian. Personality Fulfillment in the Religious Life. ~.Vilkes-Barre: Dimension Books, 1967. Walters, Sister Annette, S.C.J. "Attitudes, Values, and Motiva-tional Systems of the American Catholic Woman College Student," Catholic Psychological Record, IV, 1 (Spring, 1966), 20-34. Wilson, C. R. "Self-Acceptance and Religious Security," R~vi~w vo~ R~Lxcxoos, XXI, 6 (November, 1962), 555-559. 4- 4- $i~t~r M." Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Proper Juridical Articles of.Constitutions In the article, "Constitutions without Canons," REw~.w fOR R~.LIOIOUS, May, 1968, the purpose was to eliminate as far as possible the canons or laws of the Church from the constitutions of congregations of sisters and brothers. The result would be that the constitutions would almost completely consist of laws proper to the particular institute, which is the nature and definition of constitntions. These proper juridical laws are n~cessary determinations of matters that are undetermined in canon law or' matters over and above the norms of canon law. It was also advised in the same article that all detailed matters now found in constitutions should be placed in the custom book or in a similar book. The present article lists in 'the first section the juridical topics of proper law that should be in the constitutions, and in the second section gives added matters that I now believe should also be placed in the custom book, that is, matters over and above those put in the custom book in the "Constitutions Without Canons" article. The number in parenthesis after each topic is that of the corresponding article in "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations," RrwEw for REL~C~OUS, 25 (1966), 361--~57. The vote of a council is mentioned in the first sec-tion for the purpose of information, but we recom-mended in the "Constitutions without Canons" article that all votes of councils be confined to lists in the cus-tom book. The listing of the matters proper to each institute will also enable all o[ these to make a more accurate study of the juridical matters that should constitute the proper law of an institute. This can result ultimately at least in the increase,or decrease o[ the matters listed in this article. A close study of this aspect was not too easy ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallen, $.J.," writes ~rom St. Joseph's Church; ~1 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania VOLUME 27, 1968 in the past due to the large number of canons contained in the constitutions. I. MATTERS THAT MUST BE l~TAINED IN THE CONSTITUTIONS ]oseph F. Gallen, s.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1. General purpose (1) 2. Special purpose (2) 3. Authorization necessary [or a change in the special purpose or in the particular works (3-4) 4. Classes of members (5)1 5. Authorization necessary for a change in the reli-gious habit (16) 6. Superior competent to admit to the postulancy and any vote of a council (38)2 7. Duration of postulancy beyond six months (40) 8. Higher superior competent' to prolong the postu-lancy and any vote of a council (40); to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months and any vote of a council (40)3 9, Superior competent to dismiss a postulant and any vote of a council (38)4 1 "Unless the state of affairs suggests otherwise, care must be taken to produce in women's communities a single category of sisters" (Ab-bott- Gallagher, The Documents oI Vatican li [paperback edition], 478). * The Code of Canon Law contains no legislation concerning the superior competent to admit to the postulancy. The matter is there-fore governed by the particular constitutions. In the modern practice of the Holy See the mother general has the right of admission when the congregation is not divided into provinces; if such a division exists, this right is given to the higher superiors or to the mother general for the entire congregation and to the mothers provincial for their own provinces. In the latter type of congregation the right is sometimes given only to the mother general. A very small number of congregations demand the consultative vote of the respective council and an equally small number prescribe a deliberative vote. * Canon 539, § 2, gives the right of prolonging the postulancy to higher superiors. In the constitutions the higher superior who has the right of admission is also the one who has the right of prolonga-tion. Therefore, this matter was explained in the preceding note, and the statements there made on the consultative' and deliberative vote are also applicable here. Recent constitutiofis permit the mother general, provincial, or higher superiors to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months provided a postulancy of six months is preserved. At times no vote, th( consultative, or even the deliberative vote o[ the respective council has been prescribed for the abbreviation (REVIEW for RELI¢IOVS, 21 [1962], 409). * In the practice o[ the Sacred Congregation of Religious, the dis-missal of postulants is reserved in the same manner as admission to higher superiors. Some constitutions demand a consultative vote of the council for dismissal even though no vote was required for ad-mission. A few constitutions give a local superior the right of dis-missing a postulant in an urgent case. I0. Higher superior competent to admit to the novice-ship and vote of a council (44)5 11. Authority competen.t for the establishment or transfer of a novitiate (46) 12. Necessity or advisability of a novitiate in each province (47)° 13. Duration of a noviceship beyond a year (50)7 14. Authority competent to dispense from the second year of noviceship (50) 15. Manner of beginning the noviceship (52) 16. Superior competent for the dismissal of a novice and any vote of a council (67)s "In virtue of canon 543 admission to the noviceship appertains to a higher superior, and consequently to the mother general or provincial in a centralized institute, to the superior of a monastery of nuns, and to the mother superior in a congregation that has a similar monastic structure. The same canon demands that the council or chapter have a vote in this admission. The particular constitutions decide whether the council or the chapter has the vote. In centralized institutes the council will always have the vote; in monasteries of nuns and insti. tutes of similar structure the chapter has the vote, but there can be also a previous vote of the council. It is likewise left to the constitu-tions to determine whether this vote of the council or chapter is deliberative or consultative. According to the ordinary practice of the Sacred Congregation the vote is deliberative, but in a few congre-gations it is only consultative. Congregations divided into provinces can have variations. The competent higher superior is frequently the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council, but often this must be supple-mented by the confirmation, approval, or consent'of the mother general either alone or with the deliberative or consultative vote of the general council. In other constitutions admission appertains to the mother general or the higher superior with the deliberative or consultative vote of the council, and, finally, in some institutes the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council merely proposes the admission to the mother general, who admits with the deliberative vote of her council. ~ Canon law does not oblige each province to have its own novitb ate, but the constitutions impose this obligation either absolutely or as far as it is possible. The Normae of 1901 stated that it was appro-priate for each province to have its own novitiate (n. 303). ¢ Canon 555, § 2, states that a period beyond a year demanded for the noviceship by the particular constitutions is not required for validity unless this is expressly stated in the constitutions. In practice it is required only for liceity. This longer period is practically always two years, but a few institutes have a noviceship of eighteen months. S According to canon'571, § 1, the competent authority for the dismissal of a novice is the superior or the chapter according to the constitutions. In the practice of the Sacred Congregation, the dis-missal of a novice is reserved to higher superiors with the vote of the council, which is more frequently consultative than deliberative. In congregations without provinces, this higher superior is the mother general. In congregations with provinces, the right is more frequently reserved to the mother general, but in some institutes it is given to the higher superior or the mother provincial. When the right is reserved to the mother general, the constitutions at times enact that the mother provincial and her council are to be con-sulted. Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ ÷ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 17. Superior competent for the prolongation of the noviceship and any vote of a council (68)9 18. Duration. of temporary vows beyond three years; length of each temporary profession, for example, one of three, another of two years, or vice versa; five annual professions, and so forth (72) 19. Higher superior competent to admit to the pro-fessions, to prolong temporary profession, and vote of a council (73)1° ~ Canon 571, § 2, gives the right of prolongation of the noviceship to higher superiors but does not prescribe any vote of the council. Great variety is found in this matter in constitutions. In congregations without provinces, the right appertains to the mother general. The constitutions often demand no vote but in some the consultative and less frequently the deliberative vote of the council is prescribed. In congregations divided into provinces, the right of prolongation is given to the higher superior or the mother general, alone or with the consultative or deliberative vote of the respective council. 10 In virtue of canon 543, only a higher superior is competent to admit to any religious profession, whether temporary (first, renewal, or prolongation), or perpetual (solemn or simple). The competent higher superior is the mother superior in a congregation that has the monastic'structure and the mother general in a~centralized congrega-tion that is not divided into pr6vinces. In a congregation that has provinces, the constitutions determine whether the one admitting is the mother general or the mother provincial. Such constitutions fre-quently reserve the admissions to all professions to the mother gen-eral. This right is often given also to the mother provincial or higher superiors. Frequently also, and especially for perpetual profession, the mother provincial admits but her admission mnst be confirmed by the mother general. In a few institutes, at least sonde admissions ap-pertain to the mother general and her council but the request for the admission is made by the mother provincial with her council, for example, with the deliberative vote of this council for admiss!on to first temporary profession. If the constitutions do not determine the legitimate higher superior for the prolongation of temporary vows (c. 574, § 2), this appertains to the higher superior who has the right of admitting to either temporary or perpetual profession, but more probably to the latter when the higher superior for both of these admissions is not the same in the law of the constitutions. Canon 543 demands that there be a vote of the council or chapter, without specifying whether the vote is to be deliberative or consulta-tive, for admission to first temporary profession and perpetual pro-fession, whether simple 9r solemn, but not for the renewal of tem-porary vows nor for the prolongation of temporary profession. Canon 575, § 2, demands that the vote for the first temporary profession be deliberative, which is also to be extended to institutes in which the first profession is perpetual by privilege. The same canon appears to prescribe that the vote for the perpetual profession, simple or solemn, be only consultative; but the Holy See in approving consti-tutions interprets the canon as permitting a deliberative vote. There-fore, the Code of Canon Law permits either a consultative or delibera-tive vote for perpetual profession. In centralized congregations the council of the competent higher superior always has the vote. In congregations that have the monastic structure, the chapter has the vote; but there can also be a previous vote of the council. In the constitutions of centralized congregations: (1) the vote of the council.for the first temporary prgfession must be deliberative by reason of canon 575, § 2; (2) for renewals of temporary professions the constitutions commonly prescribe the consultative 20. Superior competent to permit an anticipated re-newal of temporary vows and any vote of a council (78)11 21. Authority competent to dispense from duration of temporary vows beyond three years (74) 22. Superior competent to receive the vows (74) 23. Formula of professions (75) 24. Definition of the vow of poverty (82) 25. Prescription on common life with regard to pov-erty (93) 26. Definition of the vow of chastity (94) 27. Definition of the vow of obedience (95-6, 100) 28. Obligation to obey constitutions and other orders of superiors (99) 29. Superior competent to exclude from renewing temporary vows or from making perpetual profession and any vote of a council (152)t-° 30. (Diocesan) A petition for dismissal of a professed of temporary vows must be made by the mother general and any vote of her council (155)la 31. Previous judgment on the incorrigibility and dis-missal of a. professed of perpetual vows and vote of coun-cil (158)a4 32. Superior competent for the declaration of fact in an automatic dismissal and vote of council (161)15 vote; (3) for the prolongation of temporary vows, the constitutions more frequently demand no vote but some require the consultative and a few the deliberative vote; (4) for perpetual profession the vote prescribed by the constitutions is practically always consultative. a According to canon 577, § 2, an anticipation as such may be per-mitted by any superior, whether a higher or minor local. However, this right is only to admit an anticipation. Since the renewal is a juridical profession, all the requisites of such a profession must be observed, and therefore the admission must be made by the compe-tent higher superior according to the constitutions, as explained in the preceding note. In constitutions an anticipation is usually re-served to a higher superior or to a particular higher superior. ~ Canon 637 leaves to the constitutions the determination of the superior competent for exclusion. The constitutions usually assign this right to the superior general with the consultative vote of her couucil, but a few demand the deliberative vote. A small number of constitutions give this power to the provincial or higher superiors cither alone or with the consultative or, less frequently, the delibera-tive vote of the council (REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS, 25 [1966], 391). ~ In a diocesan congregation the superior general will present the petition for a dismissal to the local ordinary, but the constitutions will frequently require the consultative or deliberative vote of her council for such a petition (REVIEW fOR RELmtOUS, 16 [1957], 272). x, Canon law does not clearly demand the intervention of the mother general nor of her council in the dismissal of a professed of perpetual vows. However, from analogy with the law on the dismis-sal of religious men of perpetual vows and the constant practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in the approval of constitutions, the dismissal of a professed woman of perpetual vows in both pon-tifical and diocesan congregations is to be referred to the mot

Karen Litfin on Gaia Theory, Global Ecovillages, and Embedding IR in the Earth System




This is the third in a series of Talks dedicated to the technopolitics of International Relations, linked to the forthcoming double volume 'The Global Politics of Science and Technology' edited by Maximilian Mayer, Mariana Carpes, and Ruth Knoblich 






Many debates in International Relations concern struggles regarding what should be the autonomous limits and focus of the discipline itself. However, increasing environmental and climate concerns challenge the self-contained nature of IR on discrete political phenomena, because what IR considers it's exogenous context is threatening to destabilize the premises of the content of international political practice itself. While such concerns often lead to a securitization and politicization of the environment and climate in IR, some scholars argue we should work towards the exact opposite. In this Talk, Karen Litfin—among others—elaborates on the kind of theory in which IR is embedded in, rather than applied to, natural systems; discusses examples of social arrangements that try to translate that theoretical insight into practice; and engages with questions of secularism and mysticism that irrevocably accompany those efforts.






Print version of this Talk (pdf)




What is, according to you, the biggest challenge / principal debate in current IR? What is your position or answer to this challenge / in this debate?



The fact that we can today truly speak of something of a global economy, the central problem now is to formulate the political institutions that are commensurate to these globalized economic institutions. We have far to go on that project. It also means doing so within the carrying capacity of the earth—that is, politically configuring that global economy in such a way that it doesn't exhaust ecological resources. So I would say that the challenge, in terms of actual politics, is to find those institutions.



The challenge for the discipline of International Relations is to do the necessary thinking to facilitate that institutional transition, but few IR scholars even acknowledge that political institutions must attend to the carrying capacity of the earth. In general, the discipline of International Relations, Political Science and even most of social sciences more generally behave as if there are no natural constraints to our behavior. Yet our freedom to even be able to theorize about the international system is completely dependent upon a vast web of life, other people growing our food, and a whole technological infrastructure that we had nothing to do with creating. International Relations talks a lot about interdependence, but do we really take it seriously?





How did you arrive at where you currently are in IR?



I've always been interested in science and technology. As an undergraduate, I studied physics and astronomy, but I didn't finish those majors because I realized, that if I graduated with those degrees I would most likely be working indirectly or directly for the military. I got politicized and I began to see that the political agenda drives the scientific agenda. This was in the 1970s and it was possible at that time that we were going to have an all-out nuclear war. I did not want to be a part of that.



I began to see that there is a dialectical relationship between science and politics. Because science facilitates the technological changes, which make the basic backdrop for politics, it's very important. For instance, the defense department was funding DARPA, which led—without them fathoming that at the time—to the development of the Internet—now a key site where global politics plays out.



Science also provides metaphors through which we understand politics. I did my Masters thesis on the mechanistic worldview and the devitalization of nature in the 17th century—that is, taking living nature out of our systematic theorizing. While others had written on this, I traced it back to the ancient Greek philosophy. A reductionist and mechanistic worldview underpins a lot of IR theory, as well most of our political institutions. We need to really start questioning that. Another way this plays out is that the notion of the global really had a huge jump when we got the image of Earth fromspace. The idea of Earth Day was really closely aligned to the fact that the image of the earth from space just had come out. Gaia Theory came about because James Lovelock was looking for signs of life on Mars. We were interested in extra-planetary life, but weren't looking at our own system or planet. So basically it turned all that science back on the Earth and said 'Oh my Gosh, we do have this kind of atmosphere that has the telltale science of life in it', which tells us that life is hoping to create the atmosphere. Then to have the human mind to conceptualize that is really huge. The idea that we are the Earth becoming conscious of itself is basically what science is telling us. These monitoring systems are one means by which we have the possibility of becoming conscious of that fact.



In terms of personal trajectory, when I started teaching International Relations back in the early 1990s, I started realizing that petroleum holds the whole thing together, the whole global system was held together by petroleum. (You could also say fossil fuels, but coal and natural gas don't power that much transnationally; it's really the petroleum.) Yet hardly anybody in IR talks seriously about petroleum—or energy or biodiversity or soil or the atmosphere. That's what I mean about getting to the material basis. But having said that, I think how we interact with the material basis is a reflection of our consciousness. So I'm not a material reductionist. Rather, I'm looking for a wholeness that understands our approach to material reality as being a reflection of our consciousness.



So this was why I have become interested in biological metaphors. I still think the leaning edge of human thought is understanding human systems as living systems. From this vantage point, we can begin to reshape our institutions in ways that mimic, sustain, and regenerate living systems. There's a long history of natural law and I don't exactly put myself in that camp, but I think there are ways that we need to understand ourselves as thoroughly embedded in natural systems and then move consciously from that place.





What would a student need to become a specialist in IR or understand the world in a global way?



To my mind, these are very different questions because, at least at many universities, becoming an IR specialist often entails ignoring some fundamental global realities. For one, even though most of humanity lives in so-called developing countries, most IR theory pays attention only to the Global North. Likewise, IR is fairly blind to the fact that the lifestyles of the Global North, if globalized, would require between three and six Earths, depending upon whether you are looking at Europeans or North Americans. Again, there is only one Earth! Fortunately, an important subfield has emerged with IR—global environmental politics—that is helping to rectify the situation.



The question I would prefer to answer is: what would a student need to know in order to understand the most pressing challenges facing the world system? To this, I would advise three things. The first would be to dive deeply into a broad and critical reading of the history of modernity, including the interpenetrating scientific, political, commercial, theological and industrial revolutions that characterize the modern era. The second would be to learn about the primary international institutions (the WTO, World Bank, IMF, EU, UN Security Council, etc.), and ask what is working, what isn't, and why? The third would be to do all of this learning while simultaneously learning to think systemically. Take at least one good course on systems theory; one that specifically offers a strong grounding in living systems, and start making connections. Why, for instance, do 'ecology' and 'economics' share the same root (oikos, Greek for household)? What would it mean to consider the international system as a living system and a subset of the Earth system? If we think this world system that we've created of a globalized economy and rudimentary international law is not a part of a living system, we are living in a big delusion. So to actually understand how living systems function, we need the literature on system theory that of course has been used in biology and ecology, but has also been applied a lot in the business world and organizational development. I think it's making its way into IR.





The world is full of technologies and technological systems (and getting more so each day). Could you elaborate on how this is relevant for IR?



I think that's a huge gap: IR doesn't pay nearly enough attention to technological systems—and when they do, it's generally from an uncritical and mechanical perspective. Even though much of the constructivist critique of liberal institutionalism is that the latter is overly materialistic, it actually isn't as if institutionalists talk about economics as if that were a material reality. Economics is a secondary human system overlaid on, but abstracted from, material systems. I think that IR needs to get really serious about understanding the actual material basis for politics. Climate change will probably be the issue that drives that.



So what kinds of technologies and institutions are we going to have to facilitate a global civilization? Now that's a worthwhile question! As I indicated, we now have a more or less globalized economy, but we don't have a global polis; we don't have the institutions that are commensurate to the economy that we have got. So the question is: can we sustain current civilization on the energy budget that is available to us and not wreck the climate?



Technological systems are driven by energy; energy is the master resource. Some energy analysts say that in order to have a global civilization, we need to have an energy return on energy investments of something like 5 to 1—meaning, for instance, that for each barrel of oil we put into getting more oil, we need to get five back. Right now petroleum is getting—depending on where you find it and how it's getting to you—somewhere between 15 and 25 to 1. That's the Middle East. It used to be 100 to 1 at the beginning of the 19th century. And now we are getting, say, 20:1. I've seen analyses of tar sands that put that energy source at somewhere between 3 and 5 to 1. Solar panels, if they work well, they are maybe getting 5:1. So the trend is worsening and we are starting to push that envelope of 5:1 energy return on investment. And if we exploit some of the new unconventional hydrocarbons—like fracking and, worse, methane hydrates—to their maximum potential, we'll fry the planet.



My question is how we can leverage existing technological, economic, financial and political resources to sustain a global civilization. I dearly wish more people were putting their attention on that question. The underlying assumption for most people is that business as usual can continue. Maybe, but not for long.



I'd like to throw in one little term coined by Stephen Quilley, an environmental sociologist: 'low energy cosmopolitanism' (read the paper here). I think this is a huge challenge for us. If it's possible to have a global civilization on the energy budget that we have available, it's going to be some form of a low energy cosmopolitanism, where we make some very conscious choices about what we are going to globalize. For instance, Germany probably wouldn't be importing grapes from Africa and none of us would be going on luxury vacations. We would be making a lot of conscious choices, but if we want to have a global civilization we have to be globalizing something, so what is it that we are globalizing?





How do you see the question of technological determinism when studying technologies?



This is really important to note, because if you just look at human systems as living systems there can be a kind of materialistic reductionism there. People who think like William Connolly, the new materialism understands that we should not be materialistic reductionists and that there is this wildcard of human consciousness. The fact of the matter is, we can assemble all the data we want but we don't know where we are going. But what we do know is that we've created a tremendously complex and complicated world that nobody can actually understand!



I think we need to address that question in a very specific way with respect of specific technologies, but if we stick to one example—satellites—I think the technologies do have certain properties embedded in them. I have written a feminist theoretical critique of earth observing satellites, where I argued that this kind of gaze from space actually does downplay or preclude certain perspectives. But as I thought about it more deeply, I saw very concretely that a lot of people are using those technologies to do what they want—not what the centralized political and scientific institutions that gave rise to the satellites wanted. So I would say the wildcard here is consciousness and human inventiveness, because that's what will shape how people deploy the technologies once there are on the ground.



For example, satellites were devised for spying and are certainly still being used for spying, but they are being used for so much else, such as Google Maps. I think some people might have been able to foresee that kind of development, but most of us didn't have a clue that this sort of thing could come about. Or that you could have indigenous people mapping their traditional lands in order to make land rights claims. So the wildcard really is human consciousness and that's why nothing really is deterministic. The greater the complexity in a living system, the more surprising its emergent properties. Seven billion human brains linked together in global technological and ecological systems are bound to yield surprises!





You indicated that you use biology and living systems as a reservoir for metaphors. Could you elaborate on that?



If I speak about living systems I usually do so through work called Gaia Theory. Looking through the lens of Gaia Theory, we would first understand that we exist within certain spheres such as biosphere, atmosphere and hydrosphere. We have taken geological time and inserted it into human time by digging up fossil fuels. As a consequence, we have kind of checkmated ourselves and are now forced into having to think in geological terms. We have to start thinking in geological time scales, which was never the case before. If we are going to find a way of inhabiting this planet sustainably, particularly if we are going to have anything approaching a global civilization, we have to understand that we live within a living system and then go about the rather daunting but exciting project of developing international law and institutions that reflect that reality.



There is a whole subfield of earth system governance in which Earth system scientists, IR theorists and international legal experts are coming together to think through these questions. The literature on earth system governance starts from the premise that the Earth is a living system and draws heavily on earth system science, which draws heavily from Gaia theory. You cannot separate atmosphere, oceans, lithosphere, and biosphere: they are all intertwined as one big living system—and now humanity is functioning as a geophysical force on a planetary scale. That's the meaning of the Anthropocene, and it will require an entirely new way of going about politics and economics.



So how can we bring the concept of Gaia Theory into practical reality? Besides the emerging field of Earth system governance, we can also do this in a very personal way by beginning to really internalize what it means being a human being at this time. A few years back, I came to the point where I decided that I did not want to theorize about anything I could not live. That turned out to be a huge challenge. After I wrote the 'integral politics' piece (see links below)—and I really do love that piece!—I saw that I couldn't fully live it. It was so big. For me, one of the most important implications of Gaia Theory is that we are the Earth becoming aware of itself. That's a huge implication. If you merely think of it conceptually, it is wonderful mind candy; but if you actually take it to the heart and try to live it, it changes your life. I challenged myself to do this and, at some point, it occurred to me that there must be other people who have traveled farther down that road than I had—in other words, people who had radically changed their lives to reflect their growing awareness that human beings are the Earth becoming conscious of itself. So I found myself traveling around the world to ecovillages which, for me, helped to tie it all together. Why is somebody who's teaching international environmental law and politics wandering around the world visiting these little tiny micro-communities? Because these people are taking the radical implications of Gaia Theory to heart (even if they've never read about it) and collectively changing their material, economic and social lives. That's why I spent a year on the road living in ecovillages. It's a strange thing to be an IR theorist who doesn't want to theorize about anything that she can't live!





Bringing up the issue of how to live your research, could you elaborate on what kind of outlook is necessary to live in accordance to Gaia Theory?



So this leads to the importance of humility for me. The value of humility is that it comes naturally as a consequence of understanding. You do not have to value it in advance; it comes automatically from understanding ourselves as part of this larger living system. In my experience at least, as soon as you grasp that, you automatically have an enormous sense of humility and gratitude. Those two qualities just spontaneously arise from truly grasping that reality. Going back to ecovillages, I asked myself who is living in ways that can actually work for the long run. The result became the eponymous book. I wanted to see collective efforts and particularly larger communities that were generally at least a hundred people, because you can do a lot more collectively, than you can on your own. Some of these communities are reducing their ecological footprint radically. In some cases, we are talking about per capita reductions in material consumption and waste production of 80-90% as compared to their home country averages.



This is very big news—especially given that these communities are still tied to the larger system. They are not tiny isolated enclaves. For instance, they're still using the mass transit of the larger society; most of them have Wi-Fi and high-speed Internet. They're not living in caves and many of them are very much globally engaged. On a material level, they're much closer to living within the Earth's carrying capacity. So in that way, I was very interested in just seeing what are their physical systems. But I began to see that their physical systems were only made possible because of the degree of trust and reciprocity that they have created.



That entails doing a lot of personal work. Diana Leafe-Christian, who has written a number of books on communities, says that 'community life is the longest and most expensive personal growth workshop you'll ever take'. It's true! If you're willing to do the personal work and hang in there through the difficult times and conflicts, you can develop the kind of self that's willing to do some very deep sharing. I would add, though, that this level of sharing is done best when it is respectful of the individualism that we have developed. I don't think that communities should be running roughshod over individualism. There needs to be some balance of privacy and communal life. The communities that work well have figured out a way to do this. To my mind, the communities that work really well are the ones who are working on developing collective forms of consciousness. Which means actually I think going beyond the separative rational mind: it doesn't mean demeaning those qualities, it means using them, but using them in the service of something larger. As I said earlier, progressive change entails transcending and including. Individualism, for all its negative consequences, is a genuine historical achievement.



And I would say on a very practical level, one of the ways that they reduce their footprint is by withdrawing to some extent from the global economy. Having very low consumption and being fairly energy efficient and self-reliant, reliance on food self-sufficiency, but withdrawing from global society. To me, they are answering the question I raised earlier: What would a low-energy cosmopolitanism look like? And they are doing this not just because they consume less and live more simply but because by and large ecovillagers actually have a cosmopolitan identity. They might be growing their own food and composting their shit, but they're also tied into the global system. They're actively engaged in the Internet, sometimes attending global conferences and many of them are politically active on issues such as genetically modified organisms and nuclear waste disposal and human rights.



They are little nodes of positive examples, but they're very small. In fact, hardly anybody lives in an ecovillage, which is why the last chapter of my book is called 'Scaling it up'. I basically look at the underlying principles of ecovillages and talk about how these principles could be scaled up to the level of cities, regions, national government and international norms. I realize this is a big stretch, but I felt that as an International Relations scholar, I at least need to try it. The important misconception you run into that moment is the idea that sustainability needs to be expensive—the idea that somehow we can consume our way into sustainability. Actually, the most sustainable form of consumption is no consumption! Yet this is not what all ecovillages do. There is one community that I visited in up-state New York, in Ithaca, this is the same city that Cornell University is in, where two thirds of the residents have masters degrees or PhDs and their homes are worth more than the average in the area. They have a pretty middle class lifestyle, yet their average ecological footprint is about half the American norm. So they're not sustainable, but they are definitely moving in the right direction. They hired architects and have nice homes, which is a very different approach than that of most rural ecovillages.



In the Global North, the smallest footprints that I saw tended to be in the rural off-grid ecovillages that were more or less self-sufficient in food, energy, and water. In some of these communities, residents were living on as little as 25% of their average national incomes. This is impressive because it tells us that people in affluent countries can live well on far less money and with far less environmental damage than is considered normal in those countries.



Yet the fact of the matter is that most people today live in cities, so it was important for me to also look at urban ecovillages. Los Angeles Ecovillage, for instance, has a very small footprint because it is high-density and automobile use is discouraged. If you lower your transportation footprint by not driving or sharing vehicles, and if you grow your own food or rely upon locally produced food and have and passive solar construction and renewable energy for your buildings, you can dramatically reduce your energy consumption. You can have a much smaller footprint and still have a very comfortable life. People think that you need money in order to live. It seems that we need money in order to live, but actually what we need is food and shelter and transportation and relationships. So if you figure out ways of getting those things without money, you've made a huge step to getting out of the global economy. In a nutshell, that's what ecovillages are doing.





So are ecovillages all the same across the globe? Is it a new 'social form' emerging?



It is different in the developing countries and in the affluent countries, and I think it's important to clarify that at the outset. I visited a number of ecovillages and ecovillage networks in both developing countries and affluent countries. In the latter, there is a greater possibility for what I consider 'post-individualist' that both transcends and includes individualism. A very simple 'post-individualistic' approach to property rights, for instance, would be co-housing, where the land is owned in common and people own their own homes. But their private homes would be a lot smaller because so many amenities are shared. The common house would have a community kitchen, so that, depending upon how much people are willing to share, private kitchens can be very small. If there's a collectively owned guest space, then you don't need a guest room in your house. And if you do a lot of your socializing together, then you can do that in the common house. So your own house could be quite small but you would still have access to all the comforts of a private existence and more. The more people are willing to share, the more will be collectively owned. And that really does require trust, because it's a big problem if the relationships blow up and you have your finances entangled with those people! This is just one example of how property rights can coexist with the softening of boundaries between individuals.



The flipside of this is occurring in developing countries, where the post-individualistic arrangement that I've been making doesn't really apply. And this is important because that's where most people in the world live. There you have cultures where people already have much more of a collective orientation. So we really need to pay attention to what's happening there. Actually, in many cases, their developmental task is to become more individuals. And the question is: how do they become more highly-individualized rather than being subsumed by traditional moral codes—how do they that without over-consuming. In the west, we had a fossil fuel subsidy that enabled us to become highly individualized, as I said before, the only reason we can be having this interview is because somebody else is growing our food.



In developing countries, the real task is to find a way for people to become more individualistic without over consuming. And so this is why I was impressed by the model I saw in Sarvodaya, a Sri Lankan participatory development network that belongs to the Global Ecovillage Network. There, fifteen thousand villages are trying to apply ecovillage principles to create what they call a "no-poverty/no-affluence society." Their programs in micro-finance and women's literacy, for instance, give villagers—especially women—an incentive to stay in the village because they have a livelihood. And when people stay in their villages, they tend to live a lot more sustainably. As the women becoming literate, they begin making choices for themselves and therefore becoming more individualized. So it's a way of hopefully leap-frogging urbanization in order to sustain rural village life.



I should say that you can apply these principles anywhere you live, in cities as well as rural areas. I visited quite a few ecovillages in cities. One of the most important things that the Global Ecovillage Network is doing is training people, wherever they live, to apply ecovillage principles in their urban neighborhoods or wherever they find themselves. There have been some amazing projects coming up in the Brazilian favelas and in China. GEN has developed a course called 'Gaia Education' that's being offered all over the world and especially in developing countries. There's now a Global Ecovillage Network for Africa. There are basic principles of sustainability that, if you live in an ecovillage, you can apply more intentionally, but they are applicable everywhere.





In a way, 'Gaia theory' sounds very spiritual—and for that reason the Gaia concept was initially very much opposed by many physicists and climate scientists. In a way, Gaia theory entails a critique of modernist secularism and faith in technology; how do you see that in your work?



I have mentioned the critique of mechanization in the early modern era, but in fact the early modern scientists, such as Newton, were all looking for God. Now many of the hard sciences are moving in the direction of mysticism—I would speak of mysticism rather than spirituality—but it's not a mysticism that is simply a projection of the human psyche onto the cosmos; rather, it is empirically derived. I think that's a kind of postmodern development that would have been impossible in the pre-modern era. That's what I was saying about transcending and including, that the ideas that we have of who we are in the cosmos are so different as a consequence of modern science. We can transcend those ideas but also include them. From the Big Bang and the evolution of species, we came out of all of that! And implicit within this fact, if you take it deeper, is that there is a secret oneness to it all. I think that the lessons we have to learn politically and economically now are about interdependence. But if you take interdependence to its depths, it too implies a secret oneness. Most importantly for the current evolutionary crisis: that oneness is embedded in our consciousness and we can access that. That is the reason why I don't want to theorize about anything that I can't live; I'm working at that level as well.



It's interesting, because that also has implications for my teaching. I teach in a fairly direct way when I have living bodies and inquiring minds right in front of me and can engage them at a personal level. I give them my big picture view of politics as a subset of living systems and also being a kind of living system. I get them to inhabit that in themselves through doing contemplative and reflective exercises in the classroom. For instance, I'm teaching a class called political ecology of the world food system and we talked about the globalization of different food commodities and where chocolate comes from for instance, where it originally came from, who processes it, how much do the farmers get from all of that. I brought in raw cacao nibs, which most of the students had never tasted before. We talked about where these came from and how expensive they were even though cacao is not processed, because raw cacao is a something of a delicacy. Then I gave them this very highly processed chocolate without sugar and with alternative sweeteners in it. I invited them to really be present to tasting each of these things as I talked about them and I left some significant gaps of silence, they could actually be present to experience of themselves inhabiting the living system and now being the beneficiary of a world food system. How did we come to have cacao from West Africa and stevia from Paraguay in our mouths? What are sociopolitical and biotic networks that have made this possible? And can we allow ourselves to truly experience what it means to be the beneficiary of these living systems? And what of our own as living system? When I am in the classroom it is actually quite easy to teach what I call person/planet politics. I never teach anything as if it is just 'out there'. Whenever I teach anything, I want the students to inhabit it in their bodies, in their experience. And I try to do that as best as I can by living what I teach as best I can.



It is a little embarrassing, but I don't know how all of this applies to IR; I am just trying to do it as best I can in my own life, as it is presented to me. And I write about it and I publish things—I have a piece coming out on localism that basically makes the case for what I call organic globalism, which is a globalization that is premised upon the earth as a living system and international institutions being designed very consciously on that basis. I don't quite know what it looks like but I have a sense of its rightness. To be honest with you, I am better with that in the classroom that I am at the level of large-scale institutions. Because I am beginning to inhabit this in my own being and I can communicate it to students. Maybe the next challenge is to be able to communicate it at a larger level.





So isn't there a tension between living sustainably and participating in a globalized world that is hard-wired in terms of technology?



Consciousness does not at all preclude technology. For example, I think us having this dialogue is on some level contributing to a certain kind of consciousness and it's completely facilitated by technology. Without Skype we wouldn't be having this conversation. What's helpful to me, about what I call E2C2 (ecology, economics, community and consciousness) is that these are four lenses through which to view any phenomenon—and that includes technology. For instance, we can view our Skype conversation through the lens of ecology in terms of the amount of energy that's used. Economically, we might consider what is being produced and what its value is. It's probably a pretty good economic deal since you and I are virtually paying nothing for it! So economically it's a good deal. In terms of the communitarian lens, we are developing a dialogue that will hopefully be in a relational field with many other people, perhaps thereby also contributing to a certain growth of consciousness.



E2C2 offers four lenses through which we can look at technology; they are not mutually exclusive. For me, the question is: to what extent are our technologies beneficial in terms of each of the lenses. Denis Hayes, the guy who started Earth Day, said the basic principle of sustainability is that you leave your molecules at home and export your photons. This brings us back to the concept of low energy cosmopolitanism. It's a huge question: what are we going to globalize? If we are going to have a global civilization we need to have global communication. The Internet is a tremendous achievement in that regard, and could to function as a kind of global brain, though its roots are in its military applications and today it is primarily dominated by commerce. (And I understand that pornography is a big part of it as well.) Despite its limitations, the Internet provides an infrastructure that could enable us to be in communication globally, which is very important if you want to develop a global consciousness and a global civilization. But we need to understand that our technologies must operate within the limits of the Earth system. In other words, technologies—like all human systems—are also living systems.





Last question. So how can we relate this back to IR?



I think one of the ways this is happening is that some pockets of IR are actually returning to foundational concepts. For instance, Alexander Wendt (Theory Talk #3) has started this Journal International Theory. People are seriously looking at the bigger and deeper questions, so uniting more with political theorists for instance. This idea that we are coming up against real limits is a very frightening idea from the perspective of a certain idea of freedom rooted in liberal politics. We really need to rethink the meaning of freedom in an era of limits. My own feeling is that human beings are kind of hard-wired towards unlimitedness—but the world is now pressing us to interrogate this impulse. We don't do well with limits. But the fact of the matter is, we are not evolutionarily adapted to abundance, we don't even know what to do with abundance. We are squandering resources in the most absurd ways. So we really need to rethink what freedom is in a world of limits.



It's not all together a bad thing that we are facing these limits. Those of us who have at least the privilege of being well fed and reasonably comfortable, can actually turn our attention to this question of consciousness. Because this question of 'what is freedom' is a problem of human consciousness. Rather than turning our desire towards mastery—I think as human beings we have an innate desire towards mastery – rather than turning that desire onto the external world, we've pretty well mastered it; except turns out that we live in it so it's coming back to bite us and we are facing huge climate change most likely. When we shift the focus of this desire for mastery to our own psyches, then lots of things open up. And I don't think only people who live in industrialized countries need to do this or are doing this. One of the things I saw in my ecovillage book is that people living in developing countries are also quite aware of it and are doing it at the places they live as well. There is a global awakening, at least in small pockets, to the fact that we live within a limited Earth system and a serious inquiry into what it means to be a human being at this juncture between modernity and the Anthropocene.





Karen Litfin (Ph.D., University of California, Los Angeles, 1992) is an associate professor in the Department of Political Science at the University of Washington. She specializes in global environmental politics, with core interests in green theory, the science/policy interface, and what she calls "person/planet politics." Her first book, Ozone Discourses: Science and Politics in International Environmental Cooperation (Columbia University Press, 1994), looks at the discursive framing of science in the ozone treaties. Her second book, The Greening of Sovereignty in World Politics (MIT Press, 1998), explores how state sovereignty is being reconfigured as a consequence of global environmental politics. Some of the topics of her recently publications include: the politics of earth remote sensing; the political implications of Gaia Theory; the relationship between scientific and political authority in the climate change negotiations; the politics of sacrifice in an ecologically full world; and holistic thinking in the global ecovillage movement. 





Related links





Faculty profile at the University of Washington
Read Litfin's Thinking like a planet: Gaian politics and the transformation of the world food system (2011 book chapter) here (pdf)  
Read Litfin's Towards an Integral Perspective on World Politics: Secularism, Sovereignty and the Challenge of Global Ecoloy (Millennium, 2003) here (pdf) 
Read Litfin's The Status of the Statistical State: Satellites and the Diffusion of Epistemic Sovereignty (Global Society, 1999) here (pdf) 
Read Litfin's The Gendered Eye in the Sky: Feminist Perspectives on Earth Observation Satellites (Frontiers 1997) here (pdf) 








Print version of this Talk (pdf)

M. Diane Krantz, April 4, 2014 ; The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ; The following is an interview with Dr. Diane Krantz conducted on April 4, 2014 by Ruby Licona. Dr. Krantz discusses her early life and her career at Weber State University from 1995 to 2011. ; 39p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program M. Diane Krantz Interviewed by Ruby Licona 4 April 2014 i Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah M. Diane Krantz Interviewed by Ruby Licona 4 April 2014 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library ii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in University Archives. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Krantz, Diane., an oral history by Ruby Licona, 4 April 2014, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii M. Diane Krantz April 4, 2014 Abstract: The following is an interview with Dr. Diane Krantz conducted on April 4, 2014 by Ruby Licona. Dr. Krantz discusses her early life and her career at Weber State University from 1995 to 2011. RL: Today is April 4, 2014. I'm Ruby Licona from the Stewart Library at Weber State University. Also present is Stacie Gallagher, our video technician. We are speaking with Dr. Diane Krantz, who came to Weber State in 1995, retired just a couple of years ago and is never still for a moment. Every time I encounter her she's got plans for one activity or another, so she's not a shy retiring kind of person, she is living her life to the fullest. Good morning, Diane, and thank you for coming in to talk with us. DK: Good morning, Ruby, thank you for the privilege of donating my thoughts to the library. RL: Well, we are anxious to learn about you. To that effort, why don't you start out telling us a little bit about your origins and some of the things with which you were involved prior to coming to Weber State? You did not come here straight out of—well, you came straight out of your Ph.D., but that was a few years following your bachelor's degree. So, why don't you talk to us a little bit about that? DK: Okay. Well, I was born in a small coal town in Pennsylvania called Carbondale. I was a very devout Catholic and always wanted to be a religious woman, so when I graduated from high school, I entered a convent that was in the town where I 1 was living. I got a bachelor's degree in mathematics from St. Louis University, ultimately, and was credentialed to teach math. I taught elementary school math for three years and then went on to high school math and got my master's in teaching mathematics from Fairfield University. I taught high school mathematics for 17 years. RL: That was at Fairfield University in Connecticut? DK: Yes. RL: So, how did you get from St. Louis to Connecticut? DK: Well, actually, I started in Pennsylvania. We moved to Connecticut and then after I had taken my vows, I was transferred from the convent in Connecticut to St. Louis. Actually, my first foray there in higher education was a sister's college called Mirallac College. It was for religious women. I was there for a year, but there program was so convoluted; it would have taken me five more years after my Associate of Arts degree to get my bachelor's. So, the Provincial and I decided I would go to St. Louis University. Then I taught for three years in the elementary school in St. Louis and was transferred back to the high school in Connecticut to teach there. Math teachers, even in the convent, are at a premium especially because a lot of sisters did not go directly on for their degrees. They got them part-time. Getting a math degree that way could take 12 or 13 years. I was going full-time, so I managed to get mine in a reasonable amount of time. I got a National Science Foundation grant, so most of my master's degree was free for me and the convent. So, that was nice. I taught many years, as I said, in the high school and religious life somewhat changed and I began to—a lot of 2 women left religious life during those following years as the church became—as their thinking became more modern. I always thought I was in it for the long haul, but I began to realize at one point that I had become somewhat like my mother in the sense of not knowing my own mind after a while. I was following superiors and I wasn't thinking for myself anymore. I didn't know, actually, what I wanted. At that point, I decided that I would at least try life outside the convent. So, when I was in my early 40's, I had permission to live outside the convent for two years and at that point I had been transferred to California and taught part-time in an elementary school while I looked into attending the University of California at Davis. I had requested to get a Ph.D., but that wasn't common at that time among the sisters, so I was refused for that. I went on—I was enrolled in the master's program. I spent two years and I think most people that knew me from the convent assumed that I was enough of a flake that I would never manage in the outside world. But, it turned out that I had my father's sense of economics, so I did very well, actually. By that time, I had decided that it was time for me to try a new direction in life. So, I was enrolled in the English program at U.C. Davis and I made a formal request for dispensation from my vows and received it. I then went on to get a Ph.D. at the University of California at Davis. RL: So, you got relieved of your vows in, what, the late 80's? DK: Yeah, it would have been about 1985 or 1986. A Ph.D. would take seven years at U.C. Davis if you didn't have—well, I didn't even have a bachelor's degree in English, so that was a little bit more of a challenge. At any rate, I got a Regents Fellowship my first year there and then forgot to apply for it the second year. I 3 ended up with fellowships in teaching, but the University of California system was very generous at that time and it had a lot of money, so they actually paid me what I considered a full salary, although, my colleagues in the English Ph.D. program were not doing quite as well because they were more used to being on their own and spending money as they wished. RL: They hadn't been in the religious life. DK: They had not been living a vow of poverty, right. After a year, while I was still debating, I said, "What would be the one thing I would be sorry for if I went back in the convent? What would I be sorry not to have done?" So, I took a trip to Europe—a bus trip to Europe. It was one of those bus trips where, "It's Tuesday, this must be Belgium." And it was literally like that. You got up in the morning and it was Belgium and you were going to go back on the bus and over to Holland all that day and then you'd spend a couple of days in Holland and then go on to the Rhine. That was very exciting. I had thought if I had a chance to go back to Europe, it would be nice to have an overview of it, so that's why I went on that particular trip. I was still a little bit behind for my doctorate. My father died in the meantime. My mother died three weeks before I left the convent, so that was a little traumatic because, a) I wasn't expecting it and, b) that her timing was impeccable to make me feel guilty. I failed the exams I took right after my father's death, so they gave me another chance. So, I did get through my exams and my defense of my dissertation. Then I realized I couldn't finish the dissertation on time and they would cut off my teaching pay, but there was an opportunity to go 4 to Germany on an exchange and that would be fully funded—by the Germans, actually. Because I was, shall we say, older, and also had several master's degrees they paid me through the nose in Germany. So, I was very well off in Germany. RL: Did you go to Germany to teach? DK: I went to Germany on an exchange of doctoral students to teach at the University of Mainz. So I lived in Mainz and traveled again through parts of Europe. I enjoyed my time there and taught six classes the first semester and seven the next, but German classes are much different than American classes as I learned. Students basically don't hand in anything until the end or they take three Claysure tests if they're not on that type of a schedule. It was probably less work with the six classes there than with my high school teaching, so it worked out very well for touring. After I came back from Germany, about a month before I had to hand in my dissertation, I had some work on graphics to do because I hadn't had a Mac computer there. I got my three signatures and the Ph.D. and then had a post doc at U.C. Davis for a year and applied for jobs. I got four responses. I was much more careful the second time I applied than the first time I applied. The first time, in Germany, I sent out a hundred applications and I wasn't specific at all. The second time when I was back in the United States, I said, "I'm going to research these universities." I think I applied to four and I got responses from two. One was Weber State and the other was the University of Puerto Rico at Mayaguez. The only thing that really attracted me there was that they had one of the large 5 radio telescopes at Arecibo, I think it is. At any rate, it wasn't too far from Arecibo. But, I don't speak Spanish. I was worried that the cultural differences, not for me, but the differences between the rich and the poor there would be a source of constant pain to me. The other thing, of course, was that by this time with both parents dead, my siblings were living across the country. One was in Connecticut, one in Iowa and one in Portland, Oregon. So, I would never get any visits if I stayed in Puerto Rico because it would have been quite a long trip for them. I decided that I would be happier all around accepting the job at Weber. When I came to Weber, I was really impressed with the English people who met me. Tom Burton was my predecessor in the English Department and he met me at the airport, shepherded me into Ogden and was very sweet, very kind, and very helpful. Then, I went through the interview process and was very impressed with the committee, with their friendliness, their warmth and their welcoming—also by the efficiency of the process, because I had been waiting for months to hear from Puerto Rico whether I was being offered the job or not. At this point, I was sort of disappointed that they had taken so long, but also it just seemed like a better fit to come to Weber State. So, I mean, it was largely the charm of the English Department people that I met that drew me here. RL: Can you remember who was on your search committee? DK: Well, there was Tom Burton. Levi Peterson was Chair at the time. Sally Shigley was on the search committee. John Schwiebert may have been on the search committee and Michael Wutz might have been, but I'm not sure. These later became close friends. That's as much as I remember. I remember Sally because 6 I was going to teach one of her classes—her Renaissance class—as part of my interview process. She had sent me information and I had prepared to teach something about George Herbert, a 17th Century poet. So, I remembered her of course and I met her on the committee. After that it becomes a little bit of a blur in the nervous tension one feels when one's life is basically hanging in the balance. RL: Yeah, you get a lot of really big butterflies, don't you? DK: Right. Actually, the teaching went well because part of it was that I—having taught so much in the years previously and when students were not always being very cooperative. I had also taught at U.C. Davis as well as at Mainz, so I had a lot of teaching experience behind me. So, I had kind of a dynamic in the classroom that I wanted to set up, and Sally had prepared her students very well to be kind to me, I think. So, the class went just very well, and that made it a much more positive experience than if I'd kind of lost it in the classroom, so I enjoyed that. RL: So, your first impressions, of course, were formed by the search committee and by the department. When you got here, having taught in—I'm not certain the size of U.C. Davis, but I know U.C. Berkeley was tremendous. Did you notice a difference in the students when you finally got here? DK: I think I noticed a larger range in the students. I had bright students. I had students who were very capable and well-prepared at Weber State, but I also seemed to have a number of students who were struggling from the time that they got into my classroom. So, that was a difference because the students at 7 U.C. Davis tended to be more homogeneous. They weren't all happy to be there. They weren't all happy with their majors, etc.—I had several encounters with students who were telling me how they had been forced to major in science rather than in English, which was their love. The parents, I think, put a lot more pressure on the students at U.C. Davis also, which you could say, "It's the cost," except, it wasn't the cost. At that point, the price of U.C. Davis was very low, but— RL: Well, I think there's probably a difference in all of the U.C. campuses. They have very high admissions standards as far as GPA's and background and SAT scores and so forth. Here at Weber, with open enrollment— DK: Right. It wasn't quite open at the time. Some of my English colleagues were very miffed at that because I think Bob Smith had put some limitations on admissions, which didn't seem high to me, but there were a few things in place. That changed as I stayed here, but it's also possible that some of the students as U.C. Davis would not have been as motivated as students at Weber State in the sense that their parents may have been paying for their education. Whereas here—and that was I think the biggest shock—to find so many of the students were working full-time. That was my biggest surprise at Weber State. RL: The nontraditional aspect of it. So many of them come back from a mission and get married and are supporting at least a spouse if not children. That makes a big difference. DK: Yes, it did. One had to be conscious of that in terms of how much time students were able to put into their studies. I always kept my standards fairly high, but 8 then that had been my problem since I was teaching first grade. I was always like one year beyond what the students were capable of until I got to the master's program here, and at that point we all came together as to where I expected them to be and where they were. That was a very happy experience. I was very impressed here with a lot of the women students who were very very bright and very well read and just seemed capable of handling a ton of things at the same time. That was impressive. At U.C. Davis, it would probably be just the student and her books. RL: Well, and also, I think the difference in having the commuter campus as opposed to students living on campus or right close by, does make a difference too. Now, you'd been teaching in earlier years, probably in Catholic schools, and having been in a religious background, what was your reaction to coming to Utah to a totally different religious environment or approach to religion? What were your impressions? DK: Well, of course, the first thing I did was draw kind of a parallel between my own times in Catholic school as a very devout young person with the students here. The one annoying part of it was that the students, oftentimes, are much narrower in their approach. Not more narrow than conservative Catholics, certainly, at all, but much more narrow in their thinking than, for instance, the students at U.C. Davis. I was teaching a class in persuasion and I drew up a list of topics that I wanted the students to argue and the students invariably chose positions diametrically opposite to what I would argue. Of course, if they argued well they got an 'A' on the papers, but it began to dawn on me that this was, politically, the 9 state was very much the opposite of what I had left in California, in the north of California. Because as someone once pointed out to me, Southern California is so conservative that they've had mostly Republican governors, so, but that wasn't true the year I was in in Davis. So, it was the political rather than the religious element that I found challenging when I taught my students. RL: And yet that's surprising because Ogden is fairly different from the rest of the state. DK: Well, some people have called Weber "little BYU," so there was, at least historically, a group of very conservative men who were leading the university. Now, that's actually changed as I've been here. It's been wonderful to see women assume leading roles at the university, so at one point I had a—and this was exciting for me—a woman president, a woman Dean, and a woman Department Chair. It spoke well for Weber's openness to women and to their advancement. I think that colored life to a certain extent on the campus. One incident that occurred in English was that a student was complaining—I guess to a teacher, it wasn't to me. The teacher told him he should talk to the Chair because that would be his right, so he went to the Chair and I guess he was very disgruntled to find out that there was a woman Chair. She said, "Well, you can go on up, but the Provost, the Dean, and the President are all women also." It sort of gave him a little more perspective on what women's roles were, at least at this university. Not necessarily what he thought women's roles would be. This was a person from one of the Middle Eastern 10 countries, so, of course, the culture that he was from would have suggested that women didn't belong in such roles. He got his eyes opened very quickly. RL: But I think one of the things that we've been very lucky about is that women who have served in these capacities are so capable and have been so successful in carrying out their assignments and their missions. DK: Absolutely. RL: That's become more and more common in Arts and Humanities and other areas at the University too. Of course, President Milner, who just stepped down not that long ago, had that love and respect of everyone in the legislature and all of the people in higher education and so forth. I think she has set a really high standard that other women will be striving to reach. DK: And men. I mean, basically, because her political acuity was so great she constantly kept the legislators on our side despite the economic problems of the times, and Weber has continued to grow from this enormously. So, of course, it says a lot for Weber. RL: She gained a lot of respect for the institution. Weber had always been a little brother kind of place. I think it's risen in people's viewpoints. DK: Well, in fact, I've been very impressed at times reading just a little bit in the past five years about some nationally known figures from Weber and people certainly making their mark in our culture and in the American culture as a whole. Of course, I have to say that when I told my mentors at U.C. Davis that I was coming to Weber State, their first reaction was, "Oh, the winners of the Big Sky 11 conference." I said, "Well, I had never heard of Weber State, but the men at U.C. Davis certainly were very respectful." RL: That was right after the time that I think they had beat out both North Carolina and Michigan in the NCAA. First round they knocked them flat on their backsides. DK: Great. Yes. RL: I mean, with me, people would say, "Weber State? You came here from Weber State? Never heard of it." Then, all of sudden, they got the reports and it was, "Ruby, is that your Weber State?" It made quite an impression. As you say, it was not necessarily women, but the men that—well at least they didn't say, "Why?" or "Where in the world is that?" It gave a little bit of information to hang things on. It sounds like you were happy with the choice of coming here. DK: I was very happy. One of the things I've always appreciated about Weber is its people, I think of my department—and my department is very, very large and very diverse and tends to be like herding cats to a certain extent. People could have sticking points about things that you thought, "Well, this will be just a little conversation," and all of a sudden there's a big uproar. Yet, I always felt a kind of warmth, a kind of encouragement from my colleagues all through my career. I never felt, as I think often happens at large research schools, like I was competing in order to get tenure, in order to get promotion and in order to get various and sundry privileges that went with my job. The students also are very warm and very accepting of a lot of different things. Not necessarily different ideas, depending on which students you're talking about. It's quite possible that, of course, the composition classes are where I would hit this type of negative 12 response and that's because I would have students from across the campus, and I think some other departments may be a little bit more rigid in their thinking than the arts and humanities and even—well, not even, but the social sciences also would be in how they think about issues and how they think about people. I always felt like this—I always felt very comfortable around and accepted by both the faculty and the students. RL: You mentioned Tom Burton and Levi Peterson who were highly respected and very accomplished in their areas. Did they or any others—I realize you came here as an older person, but did anyone work in the capacity of a mentor for you? DK: I was thinking about that question because we didn't have a formal mentorship at the time in English or, as far as I know, across campus. But, Sally, Judy Elsley, and Priti Kumar included me in their lunch sessions together and I think that was a kind of mentoring. That was in my first maybe five years where we met all the time. We met on a regular basis, and they were very helpful about different things. Levi, of course, kept an eye on people. He would give you hints about things. Then, when I became Women's Studies Coordinator, which was in, I believe, my third year, that's its own little story, but Gloria Wurst had been coordinator the year before, and she very much took me under her wing in terms of how to go about taking care of the program. RL: The program was fairly new when you got here. DK: Well, yes. 13 RL: In 1990 or 1991, and I think Gloria was probably the second director. She was very invested in it and remains so even now. DK: Yes. Literally invested. RL: The three women that you mentioned that included you in their lunches, they were highly involved with the women's program in the early days. So, again, that's an example of the strong women that have been coming to Weber in the last 20 or 25 years. So, you became involved with the Women's Studies Program through them or just through seeing things about it on campus? DK: I'm not sure how I got word of the annual meeting—the Women's Studies annual meeting. I think it must have been my second year of being at Weber State that I either learned of it from something that was sent out or it's possible that Sally or Judy mentioned it to me. Anyway, I went to the meeting and we were concluding the business and they said, "Well, we need a coordinator for next year. Diane, what about you?" "Okay, let me think what skills I have." I had been Department Chair, of course, at both high schools that I had taught at, so I had some administrative experience under my belt—certainly not the amount that I could have used, but again, Women's Studies Coordinator is for three years and it's basically the secretary that runs the program. Really the point of that is that people promised to be supportive and mentoring in that position. The only drawback was I didn't have tenure yet, but I guess they decided they would take a chance. I think they thought that maybe having been a nun, I had some sense of how women should organize things and run them and be good to other women. So, I did in fact take on the job and Gloria 14 gave a lot of help. We had Norma, who was secretary, who had been secretary for Gloria but she wanted to retire at Christmas time, so we went on search for another secretary and we found Linda Shoemake. She was spectacular. She came from—she had been in an office for, I think the public schools for a long time and she came and she was fully invested in the program and extremely good at communicating with the other secretaries. Of course, Women's Studies is an interdepartmental program. RL: It's all volunteer. DK: Right. It's all volunteer and inter-departmental, so you have to be able to communicate with secretaries across campus in order to know what's going on and how you should be operating. Linda actually mastered the budget, which no one before or since, I think, has done. We actually did quite well with that, except that at one point I actually went hat in hand to five deans to beg for some money for Women's Studies. So, that was a really interesting experience for me to meet the deans in other colleges. So, Linda just really helped and I had set up—Gloria had actually done all the paperwork to get us through semester conversion, but I drew up sheets for the students coming in so that we could make their converting of the courses they had already taken from the quarter to semester credits easier. So, that was my accomplishment in that timeframe. Also, the University went into program evaluation and I set something of that up for Women's Studies—a sheet of criteria for whether the program was a success or not. Kathleen Lukken was the temporary Provost. I think at the time she was also in 15 charge of that evaluation program where we were looking across the University at different— RL: Accreditation and five year reviews. DK: Right. She had a website and I plugged all sorts of data in there. RL: Now, at about the time you came was when they were pushing Teaching and Learning Forum and strategic planning in different areas of the University and so forth. Were you involved in any of those activities or did you pretty much keep your nose to the grindstone with English and Women's Studies? DK: Only in terms of just setting up that evaluation criteria for Women's Studies. Of course, I participated at the Teaching and Learning Forum, but I also was trying to get—by this time Sesh was Chair and he was pushing me to get my book published so that I would be able to get Associate Professor or tenure out of that. RL: They were still doing both at that time. DK: Right, we would do this both at the same time. So, he directed me to a press where we'd probably be able to get the book published and I got an RS&PG grant—again, with the help of Sally—to change my dissertation into a book. So, that was very helpful, but— RL: What was the nature of the book? DK: It was on a medieval mystic called Julian of Norwich and—The Politics of Enclosure was what I wanted to call it, so that's what I eventually called the book itself. It was on the nature of her texts and how they focused on Jesus as mother. So, she was a medieval mystic and her visions—which she only had once, and 16 she turned out to live, we think, quite a long time—but she was a very grounded person, so she wasn't the type of mystic that's some place off in the clouds. She only had the visions once and she wrote a book from that and then after meditating for maybe 20 years on that, she wrote a longer book. So, I looked at the structure of the book in terms of enclosure and how this reflected her emphasis on Jesus as being a mother. Of course, the cognitive dissonance with that type of gender disparity that might exist for moderns was not prevalent in the medieval mind where gender was as gender did—that is to say, your actions determined your gender. Of course, your actions were highly circumscribed so they could determine you gender, but she listed qualities of Jesus that are mothering qualities. She also lived a life of enclosure, and she talks about being in Jesus, almost as in a womb, and there are different images in the Middle Ages that look at Jesus as a mother with a womb. But, that, again, would be the subject of another discussion. RL: You mentioned Bob Smith earlier as Vice President for Academic Affairs, and I think toward the end of his time here they made the change and that position was called Provost. Were you able, in your capacity as Coordinator of Women's Studies and on other committees as well, did you have much experience working with him? DK: I didn't actually. I knew his wife, Adele, much better because she was the one who was closest to Women's Studies. They gave us their cabin to use, for instance, for our annual meetings, so we did that for a couple of years. I knew and admired Bob, but I never actually worked alongside him. Probably the Dean I 17 would have worked most with would be Richard Sadler because he was the Dean for Women's Studies. June Phillips, I worked on various general education committees within the college, and we worked with her on those and also another thing on evaluation with her. There were large movements in terms of the student evaluation and program evaluation. The program evaluation was the most dynamic development change that I was witnessing as I taught here—after semester conversion which was its own little nightmare, but we managed to get through that. I worked with Levi Peterson on that when he was Chair to do semester conversion and then with Dean Phillips on those types of committees, the types of committees that looked at program review and general education development. So, those were the Deans I best knew. RL: Was Sherwood gone by the time you got here? DK: Yeah, he was no longer around. He had been replaced as Dean of Arts and Humanities by June. RL: You were here under two different presidents, Paul Thompson and Ann Milner. DK: Right. Two different Provosts—well, there was Bob Smith, there was Kathleen Lukken and Mike Vaughn while I was here. Who was the Richard that was head of diversity—well it wasn't called diversity— RL: Richard Ulaberry. DK: I did work with him because I was on the diversity committee again because, well, partly because I wanted to be there to represent Women's Studies and he wanted me to be there. He was very very supportive of Women's Studies, so I 18 tried to make sure that I worked well on that committee with him and we worked on the Diversity Conference, I don't know if the first one was one of the ones I worked on, but we worked to make the Diversity Conference a good one and handled all sorts of different issues. I, of course, was there, but first mostly to encourage looking at women's issues. RL: Then there was Mike Vaughn. Did you have occasions working with him? DK: No. I didn't work with people in their capacity as Provost at all, nor the Presidents in their capacity as presidents. As I said, Richard Ulaberry, who was Vice President for Diversity I guess at the time— RL: Assistant to the Vice President for Diversity. DK: Okay. He was the one I would have worked with and then Dean Sadler and Dean Phillips, so none of the other higher administrators. I was mostly intent of getting through my tenure and promotion process and running Women's Studies and teaching classes of which I've taught quite a few different ones. This is another appeal, I might say, of Weber State, to me—despite a Ph. D. in Medieval Literature, I am basically a generalist at heart. I love to dabble in a lot of different things, and Weber was a wonderful resource for being able to teach all sorts of different classes, and my Department Chairs encouraged and enabled that. It was easier, of course, when we were on quarters because there were simply more electives. Even when we had semester conversion and we were working in semesters I had opportunities to teach science fiction, fantasy, Perspectives in Women's Literature, some women's studies courses, the Women's Studies Critical Theory course for both women's studies and for English, and The Bible 19 as Literature. This was another happy dovetailing of my interest with what Weber State enabled. RL: So, the Weber State that you came to and the Weber State from which you retired, were different? It developed over the years and what are your impressions with the directions in which Weber has changed? DK: I've had to come to grips with having attended Jesuit universities and having been formed in a philosophy of education that came out of a Catholic background, I had a much more classical view of how a university should operate than I encountered even when I first came to Weber State and certainly throughout the decade and a half that I was here afterward. I think it's a necessary direction. I don't think it's—I mean, it would be very nice to say, "Well, this is what the University should look like." But I don't even know that's true even what is best for our country. Weber State has joined the computer revolution and the technological revolution in general. I taught all sorts of online courses and enjoyed putting courses on the internet even before it was popular. So, I had lots of material that my students were accessing through computers even before it became almost mandated that we do that. I don't like the business model of education, but I don't know if there's a way around it economically today. So, I think Weber has done what it needed to do to survive and to flourish in this particular culture—culture meaning the whole of the economic reality of the United States and its educational needs. It still needs a populous that is educated in order to keep a vibrant democracy going and even the philosophy of the Jesuits has changed with respect to that. They 20 see the need for a more democratic approach to education. So, universities may have offered scholarships to some poor but talented students in the past, but I think it's become increasingly necessary to draw in middle class and working class students because that's the only way they're going to survive economically and even politically today. People have to be savvy about those things. RL: Certainly, the level of wisdom that went into the idea of preparing Weber students for the economy and society here in Utah. I know it has paid off. There was an article recently about Weber having the highest return of investment for the schools in Utah. A greater percentage of our students are working. We do a lot more with a lot less money. Of course, when you first came, this was strictly, well, pretty much an undergraduate school. I think at that time we would have had three master's programs. DK: I don't even know if there was that many. RL: When I came there was accounting, education, and— DK: Nursing? Did nursing have one? RL: No, it was something in the social sciences area. It's grown to where we have quite a few master's program and I know when I first arrived people were saying, "There will never be doctorates at Weber." Now I'm hearing conversations in that direction. Yet, I think we're successful because we can still keep that approach to education where our faculty actually teach. They're doing research, they're publishing, they're doing all kinds of travel and gaining a lot of respect for the institution, but they still teach and they really love it. 21 DK: In fact, this is what impressed me about my replacement from Yale. She comes from a very high-powered university, obviously. She was tired of maybe the type of students who felt the world owed them a living at Yale. RL: Who was your replacement? DK: It was Samantha, and her name was changed because she was married, but I don't remember her last name right now. She turned out to be a spectacular teacher. She was so impressive in the classroom when she came for her interview that it put her at the top of the list for who we would hire. Before I left U.C. Davis, again, the economic situation changed. I heard other doctoral students at conferences like the Modern Language Association Conference, which is a big hiring place, mumbling that why would they want to go to a teaching university. I thought, "Well, maybe if you wanted a job you'd go to a teaching university because those are where the jobs are these days." So, the job market has changed. That's been a major change, but I do have to say that as I got older, it just flabbergasts me that people are so capable. These younger, incoming professors are so capable to be able to basically do everything. I'm not sure if it's the best use of their energy because it certainly must be draining on a certain number of them, but I think Weber is flourishing at this point with the type of people we've hired and the type of loyalty that both previous faculty and alumni have toward the school. I think it's on the right track for what has to be done. 22 RL: Now, you spoke about the students and how they were when you first came here and certainly the faculty and the staff have changed over the years. What are your impressions of the students? Did the face of the students also change? DK: I think, as far as the majors in English, I didn't find a big difference. I was finding in the composition students a sort of less preparedness in terms of attitude as I went on. Of course, I couldn't tell if it was because I was getting old and therefore, less patient about the type of things that they didn't want to do, like assignments. I did find that, it seemed at one point to me, and this was just a momentary dawning of an idea that the number of students—I was still getting good quality work out of most of my students and I was getting outstanding work out of some, but it seemed that there were a growing number of students who simply didn't bother with the final project. I heard other teachers complaining about the same thing. The students would be in class all semester and just not bother with the project that they needed to do in order to pass the class. That was one thing that I found to be unsettling. I don't know if it's partly because some of these students are younger in terms of they may have taken college courses while they were still in high school. RL: Advanced placement courses. DK: Yeah, advanced placement or the early college courses while they were in high school and they just weren't mature enough once they got to the university to buckle down and do the work. Or they had reached the point where they had exhausted themselves from high school and they weren't ready to take on college responsibilities, but that was a little bit of a challenge. On the other hand, 23 I was teaching master's students. I actually got to teach—and again, Merlin Cheney, who shepherded the master's program for English into its existence, was very willing to have me in that program and I found it very gratifying. I found students there who were very exceptional in terms of the quality of work they produced and their preparedness across the board for the courses that they were taking. That was a good deal of fun for me, intellectually. I also enjoyed my upper division courses quite a bit. RL: Were there students with whom you've kept in touch? DK: Actually, I do have a Facebook friend who was one of my students and then other people will say to me, "Oh, Dr. Krantz, I was one of your students." I'll see them in the grocery store or someplace else and we'll greet like that. I don't tend to be very personal in the classroom, so I didn't tend to keep a lot of students friendly, but I had, for instance, not too long before I retired, probably about five years before I retired, a student came back with—two students came back actually—they were both alumni and they had both taken a class from me and they had married and I had been at their wedding, I think. But, the sad part of that return was he was in a wheelchair. He was actually a quadriplegic because the summer after he graduated, they went to Idaho to do swimming and he dived off a cliff onto a pile of rocks. There had been storms—he had done it before in that particular spot on the river, but there had been bad storms that winter, so there was a pile of rocks where they didn't expect them. So, what was a blessing for him is he had already been hired by—it might have been BYU Idaho, I'm not sure, but he was working for the LDS church and so he had insurance that 24 summer even though he had just graduated from college. It looked like his young wife was going to be called upon to do quite a bit of work, but I was honored that they returned to talk to me, to see me as part of their return to Ogden. Then, Melissa Halverson, who was one of my students, and I used to share stories because at the time I had a pet rat and she kept pet rats, so we had something in common there, so she's one of my Facebook friends at this point. Several other students just, you know, dropped into my office when I was still on campus, but I don't correspond with anyone from here. I actually do correspond with a couple of my high school students, but that was a little bit exceptional also. I tended not to—I never believed in a classroom where you were kind of close friends with students, although people would often say, "Well, you really like so and so because she's so bright." I'd say, "Well, I also like other people that are not really doing that well in my class," so it's not fair to just say because this person is so bright is why I give her attention. I say "her" because at that time I was teaching all girls. I had a few friends among the high school students and a few friends among the students here. I attended several weddings. One of the reasons I got my second car—after which "totaling," I got my third car, which I totaled and then quit driving—at any rate, one of the reasons I got my second car was because I missed the wedding of one of the students I was friends with and I was very disappointed at that. She was just married in a place I couldn't get to by bus. So, a number of the students—a number of the men students also have come back 25 and talked to me when I was still in my office. I felt very gratified to see them and excited. RL: Do you feel like any students stand out in your mind as successes? Sometimes you take someone on and help them just a little bit and it makes a big difference. DK: I can no longer recall names. I have a terrible time with names to begin with and then I don't recall them very well afterward. I just remember some of my—the men students were very sharp, I'm not trying to downplay those at all, but just some of the women students who had such spectacular insights. I was trying to get one—I wrote a glowing letter for one student to try to get her into the University of Utah, but her ACT scores weren't good, so I actually called the head of the English department to see why they hadn't accepted her and basically, what I was accused of doing was lying for the student. The student was brilliant. She had insights into literature that I rarely encountered even in the master's level and I very much thought she belonged in a graduate program and at the time we didn't have a graduate program. He basically said he wouldn't trust any of the professors at Weber State to write letters of recommendation for their students. He said one of the letters he got for her seemed like a template. I said, "You know, I found her outstanding." I guess this is one of the signs that, in fact, my students and I did have a good relationship. I did have, over the years, a good number of requests for recommendations. There was only once when I told the student that I though perhaps she should try another professor because she hadn't done that well in my class. She hadn't done that well in anybody's class, which was why she was asking me for a recommendation, but I felt I couldn't 26 write her a good recommendation. Other students, both male and female, I could write glowing recommendations for and did. They were just very insightful. RL: Your standpoint was your different involvements of teaching that you would consider your biggest successes? Or is there something that you see as a— DK: Culminating experience? RL: Your greatest accomplishment. DK: I think having the Women's Studies program survive me is an accomplishment. I've enjoyed the teaching and I think my students have been—at least they were successful in terms of getting into higher education if they wanted to go there and that makes me very happy. For high school teaching too, over two and a half decades, I also realize that oftentimes—well, I got a letter from a students whom I had taught in high school some 15 years after I had taught the student saying how happy he was that he had me because he had encountered a situation where my advice in the classroom had gone a long way to helping him out in that situation. RL: That's always a good feeling. We'll never get rich, but it's the little gems that make it worthwhile. DK: I mean, basically, with teaching you cast your bread on the waters. It's planting ideas and I often thought—and I tried to do this with my Comp students—that I would make composition not only a course where I would teach them how to write for all of their courses in the future, but that I would also try to give them a little homely advice or advice from my own experiences as a student that I hoped 27 would one day stand them in good stead. So, I told them that sometimes it's just hanging in there that gets you a degree. It's not being the most brilliant one in the class or even necessarily the most productive one in the class, but keep persevering and it takes you a long way toward being educated. So, I think, you know, hopefully some of the students in their darker moments in college remembered that advice and kept on. RL: It sounds as though you've been rather happy with most of your accomplishments here at Weber. Any regrets about anything? DK: You'll see that at this point, I was looking to see what I had written as a regret—if I looked at anything with a regret. If I could go back, I guess what I would do is try to meet more colleagues from more of the colleges at Weber. I think I had a wonderful opportunity in terms of being on the Diversity Committee and being chair of Women's Studies to get a little bit across campus, but I think I could have got more out of some of those situations and I would have liked to have known more of my colleagues across campus that way. I did belong to—I was on the board of the employee association, the Faculty Staff association. I was on the board of that for several years and that was also a nice opportunity to meet people across campus. RL: And not just faculty members. DK: Right. Well, I've often—I have a very good rapport with the secretaries in English and the office manager in English, so I'm very pleased with that and I also got to take my dog to campus the last year I taught. I would leave him in my office. The first semester—the spring semester I took him first was because I was teaching a 28 night class and it's kind of eerie around here at night especially at nine at night. So, I said, "Well, I'm taking Benji and if somebody objects, then that will be the end of it," so I took him over and he stayed in my office while I taught and then I went back upstairs and I'd say, "Okay, we're going to take a walk home," and he was just as happy as a little lark and we walked home. By this time, of course, I had given up driving. The next semester was fall semester, I said, "Well, we got away with it in the spring, let's see what happens now." So, actually, the dean told me there were no restrictions on campus about bringing an animal. Of course, you're not supposed to bring them into the classroom, so I did not do that, but I had him in my office and the secretaries made a big fuss over him and I just thought he kind of enlivened the floor when he was out of my office on a leash. I think that would be the one thing I would try to meet more people and maybe socialize with more people because my socializing was mostly with the English department. RL: Which is not necessarily a bad thing. That's not much of a regret to have. It's good to be able to speak about your years here in such a positive tone. DK: It's good to be—I mean, I think even with my leaving, again, there was this support, this kind of quiet support. It wasn't people making a big fuss over it, but quiet support in a number of ways, so I was thinking that I should retire, not necessarily that I wanted to or needed to, but I should retire by the time I was in my later sixties, so I had gone to inquire at personnel and they said, "Well, wait until the end of the year before you put in a formal declaration." Well, that was before the voluntary separation plan was public and then a couple of months 29 later they made it public. I thought, "You know, those people, without saying anything directly, made sure that I would be eligible for that." RL: Directing you in the way to go. DK: So, again, it was just very quiet, but very helpful because, of course, I only worked for pay for the 17 years I was at Weber—I was teaching actively at Weber the 18 years I was here and then for graduate student fellowships for six or seven years while I was at U.C. Davis, but it wasn't much to build social security on, or even a pension, but you know, I'm doing well. I have no regrets that Weber State has done me a great deal of good and it's a fine place. It's got wonderful people in it and wonderful students and faculty and staff and I'm just glad I was here and got to know everyone. RL: Sounds like you built a good life here and have fond memories. DK: I do indeed. RL: What more can you ask for than that? DK: Exactly. RL: Diane, is there anything else you would like you tell us about or any information you would like to share? DK: I'm just glad that I also had the opportunity to give a last lecture because I had originally thought that it was supposed to be one's last lecture. Then, it turns out, no, you're supposed to be delivering it as if it were a last lecture. But, for me, it was a last lecture and it was my one opportunity to take my two areas of expertise and kind of reflect on them as a whole instead of in pieces. 30 RL: I was there and you managed to come in there and shine. DK: Thank you, Ruby. RL: You sounded as though you were happy with both of the pieces of your life and were able to combine them in a very intriguing manner. I really like that approach. DK: I think it's special to Weber State that I was able to do that. I don't know if there are other universities where that would have been possible. I think at other universities, things are very compartmentalized. It's part of the ambiance of Weber State that it allows for that. RL: And you brought together a rather eclectic audience just because of the nature of the lecture. DK: I did. I was hoping the scientists wouldn't get up and shoot me, but everybody seemed pleased, so I was happy. RL: Well, I want to thank you for spending time with us today. We try to get people's perspectives on different aspects of Weber State and this will really help us do that. DK: Thank you, Ruby. I enjoyed doing this. This was much more fun than I envisioned. RL: People get a little nervous about it, but just sit back, relax, and enjoy it. It's better than going to the dentist. DK: That's true. Almost anything is. 31 RL: Thank you so much, Diane. DK: Thank you, Ruby. 32

Why did Wilsonian ideals influence AEF actions in the First World War, and how did that affect the United States' involvement in the nation's first large-scale coalition operation? Wilsonian ideals influenced the AEF's actions in the First World War because most American leaders and soldiers shared Wilson's concepts of Progressivism and believed that the United States should play a role in saving Europe. Even if some did not agree with Wilson's politics, most doughboys shared his ideas of American Exceptionalism, and these views affected United States involvement in the nation's first large-scale coalition operation. In merging the two topic areas of Wilson's ideologies and AEF involvement in the war, this essay will attempt to answer how the American doughboy found motivation in the same principles that guided President Wilson. ; Master of Arts in Military History ; Week 11 Final Paper Wilsonianism in the First World War: Progressivism, American Exceptionalism, and the AEF Doughboy Brian P. Bailes A paper submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Arts in Military History Norwich University MH 562B Dr. John Broom August 16, 2020 Bailes 2 While the duration of American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) involvement in First World War combat operations remained short compared to the armies of the European powers, the experience had a lasting impact on the United States' status as a global power. President Woodrow Wilson's mediation in the European affair throughout American neutrality, his integration of the AEF into Allied operations, and his contribution to the post-war peace process cast him as a central figure of the conflict as well as a harbinger of United States interventionist foreign policy. Through the more than a century since the end of the war, historians have analyzed and debated various facets of United States belligerency. Historians have explored President Wilson's ideologies and the decision making that ultimately led to him making his April 1917 appeal to Congress for American belligerency. Additionally, historians have expanded on AEF actions in Europe and argued how General Pershing's adamancy on maintaining an independent American command created tension with the Allied leaders. Historians have not connected these two topics to analyze how a reader can conceptually link Wilson's ideas and doughboy exploits in Europe. Why did Wilsonian ideals influence AEF actions in the First World War, and how did that affect the United States' involvement in the nation's first large-scale coalition operation? Throughout the historiography of United States involvement in the First World War, specific themes reoccur as significant areas of consensus. The historiography presents two primary arguments in which historians agree. Historians agree that Wilson's peace objectives drastically differed from those of the Allies, and historians agree that these differences motivated Wilson's decisions regarding how the United States would enter the war. Historians also agree that friction existed between General Pershing and the Allied Commanders once the AEF arrived in Europe and began combat operations. These two commonalities in the historiography remain Bailes 3 relatively constant throughout the past 50 years of historical research, and even when portraying more positive sentiments expressed between AEF and Allied soldiers, historians still note some tension between Pershing and the Allied commanders. Historians agree that Wilson's peace objectives differed significantly from those of the Allies. David Woodford argues that the gap between British imperial interests and Wilson's peace objectives affected the alliance between the United States and England throughout the war.1 William Widenor argues that Wilson failed in achieving his goals during the Versailles Peace Settlement because he attempted to make too many concessions for enduring peace, and he claims that Wilson grew at odds with the Allied leaders at the peace conference.2 George Egerton argues that British policymakers were closely monitoring the dispute within the United States Senate during the Treaty of Versailles conference, and he suggests that British leadership remained skeptical of Wilson's League of Nations.3 Historians capture Wilson's opposing peace aims throughout the European conflict, and they seemingly agree on how these aims influenced Wilson's policies and actions. Some historians cite the most significant gap in peace aims as existing between the United States and France. David Stevenson argues that French leaders were continually at odds with Wilson throughout the war as the French war aims focused much more on their national security, which they saw as requiring the destruction of Imperial Germany.4 Stevenson points out that while Wilson's peace aims differed from England as well as France, many French objectives 1 David R. Woodward, Trial by Friendship: Anglo-American Relations, 1917-1918 (Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 1993), 7-25, 35-43, 77-80, 125-9, 208-20. 2 William C. Widenor, "The United States and the Versailles Peace Settlement," Modern American Diplomacy, eds. John M. Carroll and George C. Herring (Lanham: SR Books, 1996), 46-59. 3 George W. Egerton, "Britain and the 'Great Betrayal': Anglo-American Relations and the Struggle for United States Ratification of the Treaty of Versailles, 1919-1920," The Historical Journal 21, no. 4 (December 1978): 885-911, https://www.jstor.org/stable/2638973. 4 David Stevenson, "French War Aims and the American Challenge, 1914-1918," The Historical Journal 22, no. 4 (December 1979): 877-894, https://www.jstor.org/stable/2638691. Bailes 4 were more aggressive against Germany as they involved reclaiming land lost to Germany in previous wars, specifically the 1870 Franco-Prussian War.5 Stevenson highlights the fact that Wilson could not get French officials to see the "two Germanys" concept that prevailed in American thinking at the time. While the American public generally saw two Germanys – the autocratic ruling party dominated by the Prussian elite and the German people living under that oppressive regime – Stevenson argues that France only saw Imperial Germany as a total enemy.6 Robert Bruce explains that during the post-war occupation period, the American doughboys perceived Frenchmen as distrustful and hateful toward German soldiers, and this sullied the alliance between France and the United States.7 In line with Wilson's ideology, historians cite Wilson's desire for Europe to achieve a "peace without victory" as he attempted to serve as a mediator during the United States period of neutrality. These historians ultimately conclude that Wilson believed any of the European powers achieving their aims through victory would lead to a continuation of balance of power politics in Europe. They argue that Wilson thought merely putting an end to the fighting would be the only way to achieve lasting peace. Ross Gregory argues that Wilson acted as a persistent mediator throughout the war as he strove for a "peace without victory."8 Arthur Link explains that Wilson believed a "peace without victory" and a "draw in Europe" proved the best solution for establishing a new system to replace the broken power structure in Europe.9 Ross Kennedy portrays Wilson as advocating the United States as a neutral mediator striving for a "peace 5 Stevenson, 884, 892-4. 6 Stevenson, 885. 7 Robert B. Bruce, A Fraternity of Arms: America & France in the Great War (Lawrence: The University Press of Kansas, 2003), 286-95. 8 Ross Gregory, The Origins of American Intervention in the First World War (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1971), 115-6. 9 Arthur Link, "Entry into World War I," Progress, War, and Reaction: 1900-1933, eds. Davis R.B. Ross, Alden T. Vaughan, and John B. Duff (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Company, Inc., 1970), 141. Bailes 5 without victory" before the U.S. entered the war, then as an advocate of "just peace" after they entered the war.10 Kennedy argues that Wilson blamed the international system that led to power politics and wanted to have a separate voice in the peace process to shape a new diplomatic and global political order.11 Historians point to Wilson's ideology as a reason for his differing peace objectives, and historians point to Wilson's Christian faith as a significant motivation for his progressive philosophy. Lloyd Ambrosius highlights Wilson's four tenets of national self-determination, open-door economic globalization, collective security, and progressive history as the framework in which he envisioned a global order shaped by American democratic ideals that would bring the world to peace.12 Ambrosius examines Wilson's embrace of "American Exceptionalism" and looks at how his Anglo-American bias clouded his vision and prevented him from seeing the various cultural factors throughout the world.13 Ronald Pestritto examines Wilson's progressive form of history while arguing that Wilson saw democracy emerging within society as a phenomenon only natural to specific groups of people, and he only saw a few civilizations as "progressed."14 Pestritto notes Wilson's Christian inspiration, referencing early manuscripts written by Wilson titled "Christ's Army" and "Christian Progress."15 William Appleman Williams argues that Wilson maintained a Calvinist idealism that intensified the existing doctrine 10 Ross A. Kennedy, "Woodrow Wilson, World War I, and American National Security," Diplomatic History 25, no. 1 (Winter 2001): 15, 29, https://doi.org/10.1111/0145-2096.00247. 11 Kennedy, "Woodrow Wilson, World War I, and American National Security," 2-3. 12 Lloyd E. Ambrosius, Wilsonianism: Woodrow Wilson and His Legacy in American Foreign Relations (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002), 2-47. 13 Ambrosius, Wilsonianism, 125-34; Lloyd E. Ambrosius, Woodrow Wilson and American Internationalism (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2017), 33-49; Lloyd E. Ambrosius, "World War I and the Paradox of Wilsonianism," The Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era 17 (2018): 5-22, https://doi.org/10.1017/S1537781417000548. 14 Ronald J. Pestritto, Woodrow Wilson and the Roots of Modern Liberalism (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2005), 6-61. 15 Pestritto, Woodrow Wilson and the Roots of Modern Liberalism, 23, 40. Bailes 6 based on God's supposed ordination of American influence and expansion in the world.16 Richard Gamble explains that Wilson's vision and rhetoric nested with many of the Christian messages of progressive religious leaders in the United States during the First World War who saw the war as a Christian crusade to spread American ideals.17 Historians seem in unanimous agreement that Wilson's separate peace aims formed the primary impetus for him seeking an independent American presence in the war effort. David Esposito argues that Wilson wanted to have an American presence in the war because he realized that to establish a dominant American voice in the post-war peace talks, the United States needed to make a significant contribution to Allied victory.18 Edward Coffman details the United States' experiences in the First World War by explaining Wilson's desire to gain an independent voice in the peace process.19 David Trask maintains that Wilson wanted to "remain somewhat detached from the Allies" in defeating Imperial Germany to provide Wilson leverage so that he could directly influence the post-war peace process.20 Arthur Link explains that Wilson did see the benefit of not joining the Entente but keeping the United States independent of "any political commitments" with the Allies as providing a chance to ensure an American presence at the peace conference.21 Thomas Knock argues that Wilson faulted the "balance of power" politics of Europe and saw the United States as the actor to save Europe and create a new system of 16 William Appleman Williams, The Tragedy of American Diplomacy (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1959; New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2009), 67-112. Page references are to the 2009 edition. 17 Richard M. Gamble, The War for Righteousness: Progressive Christianity, the Great War, and the Rise of the Messianic Nation (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2003), 22-3, 86-208, 254-5. 18 David M. Esposito, "Woodrow Wilson and the Origins of the AEF," Presidential Studies Quarterly 19 no. 1 (Winter 1989): 127-38, https://www.jstor.org/stable/40574570. 19 Edward M. Coffman, The War to End All Wars: The American Military Experience in World War I (Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 1968), 5-8. 20 David F. Trask, The AEF & Coalition Warmaking, 1917-1918 (Lawrence: The University Press of Kansas, 1993), 2-6. 21 Link, "Entry into World War I," 141. Bailes 7 diplomacy.22 Overall, historians agree that President Wilson desired very different peace outcomes for a post-war Europe, and this influenced him as he made decisions regarding United States actions throughout the war. In addition to the agreement that Wilson's peace aims differed from the Allies, historians also agree that once the United States did enter the war and the AEF arrived in Europe, friction quickly developed between General Pershing and the Allied commanders. David Trask argues many instances of "increasing friction" existed between Pershing and the French and British command. Trask includes a case where the Allies "attempted to bypass Pershing" by working directly with Wilson even though Wilson had appointed Pershing as Commander in Chief of the AEF.23 Trask argues that Pershing believed that the preceding few years of trench warfare had "deprived the French and even the British of offensive spirit," and he maintains that with Pershing's "open warfare" tactics, his methods of training drastically differed from the Allies.24 Michael Adas cites disagreement between Pershing and the Allied commanders immediately after Pershing arrived in France due to Pershing's unwillingness to listen to the experienced French and British leaders as they tried to suggest ways to employ the AEF.25 Adas argues that Pershing's desire to pursue "open warfare" did not take into account the realities of trench warfare and resulted in costly casualties.26 Russell Weigley cites frequent tensions between Pershing and the Allied commanders, including an example in September of 1918 in which AEF 22 Thomas J. Knock, To End All Wars: Woodrow Wilson and the Quest For a New World Order (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992; Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2019), 30-69. 23 Trask, AEF & Coalition Warmaking, 38-9. 24 Trask, AEF & Coalition Warmaking, 19. 25 Michael Adas, "Ambivalent Ally: American Military Intervention and the Endgame and Legacy of World War I," Diplomatic History 38 no. 4 (September 2014): 705-7, http://doi.org/10.1093/dh.dhu032. 26 Adas, "Ambivalent Ally," 710. Bailes 8 "traffic congestion" caused a significant disturbance in a visit from Georges Clemenceau.27 Weigley explains that Pershing's belief in "open warfare" would not work due to the enormous American divisions built for the trenches, arguing that Pershing would need "smaller, maneuverable divisions" if he wanted his open warfare to work.28 All historians agree that the issue of AEF amalgamation with the French and British forces served as the primary reason for the friction between the military leaders. David Woodford cites the notion that AEF amalgamation would "undermin[e] the significance of the American military role." Hence, Pershing remained adamant in his stance not to let the Allies use American soldiers to fight under French or British flags.29 Woodward notes that Pershing felt his AEF superior to the Allies as he "believed that the Americans had almost nothing to learn from French and British officers."30 Woodford explains that war aims and peace objectives formed the basis of a fractured Anglo-American relationship that finally crumbled during the peace conference.31 Mitchell Yockelson argues that despite tension between Pershing and the Allied leaders regarding the question of amalgamation, the 27th and 30th Divisions contributed significantly to the Allied effort under British command. Yockelson highlights a fascinating illustration of Pershing's stubbornness in noting that Pershing did not follow the exploits of these divisions even though they proved instrumental in the offensive against the Hindenburg Line.32 As an enduring theme throughout the amalgamation debate, historians point to Pershing's desire for the United States to deliver the decisive blow against Germany with an independent 27 Russell F. Weigley, "Strategy and Total War in the United States: Pershing and the American Military Tradition," Great War, Total War: Combat and Mobilization on the Western Front, 1914-1918, eds. Roger Chickering and Stig Förster (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 333. 28 Weigley, "Pershing and the American Military Tradition," 341-2. 29 Woodward, Trial by Friendship, 57-8. 30 Woodward, 88. 31 Woodward, 7-80, 112-220. 32 Mitchell A. Yockelson, Borrowed Soldiers: Americans Under British Command, 1918 (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2008), 92-228. Bailes 9 American army. Allan Millett argues that Wilson gave Pershing the explicit directive to keep the AEF separate from the Allies and allowed Pershing the freedom to make decisions on how to integrate the AEF.33 Millett cites Pershing's initial plan to use an AEF offensive on Metz as the critical blow that would decide the war and establish an American contribution to defeating Imperial Germany. Pershing would not have his AEF ready to carry out this offensive until 1919, and his stubbornness in dealing with the requests for amalgamation in the interim "frustrated the Allies."34 Bullitt Lowry narrates Pershing's attempt to shape the post-war peace terms by arguing that Pershing wanted to force Germany into an "unconditional surrender." While Lowry concludes that Pershing's effort to influence the political realm failed, he believed that the only way to "guarantee victory" would be to crush Germany in battle.35 David Woodward argues that Pershing believed that the AEF would decide the war by becoming "the dominant role in the war against Germany."36 Woodward cites Pershing's ideas regarding "the aggressive American rifleman, whose tradition of marksmanship and frontier warfare" could rid the Western Front of trench warfare and execute a great offensive against Germany.37 Historians cite the notion throughout the ranks of the AEF that the United States should remain independent from the Allies, and historians point to the fact that many doughboys saw themselves as superior soldiers to the Allies. Robert H. Zieger argues that "virtually the entire military establishment" agreed with Pershing's desire to have an independent American 33 Allan R. Millett, "Over Where? The AEF and the American Strategy for Victory, 1917-1918," Against All Enemies: Interpretations of American Military History from Colonial Times to the Present, eds. Kenneth J. Hagan and William R. Roberts (Westport: Greenwood Press, Inc., 1986), 237. 34 Millett, "Over Where?," 239. 35 Bullitt Lowry, "Pershing and the Armistice," The Journal of American History 55 no. 2, (September 1968): 281-291, https://www.jstor.org/stable/1899558. 36 Woodward, Trial by Friendship, 81. 37 Woodward, 89, 207. Bailes 10 command.38 Still, Zieger does note that this separate American command relied heavily on the Allies for logistics support, and the AEF "misunderstood the military dynamics of the Western Front."39 Richard Faulkner argues that Pershing's doctrine rested on his belief that the "superior American rifle marksmanship, aggressiveness, and skilled maneuvering" could win the fight for the Allies.40 Faulkner argues that American soldiers saw themselves as intervening in the war effort to help the failing French and British, taunting their British partners by claiming AEF stands for "After England Failed." He devotes a chapter named as such to explain the AEF belief in the superiority of the American fighting man.41 Harold Winton argues that Pershing believed that the United States soldier was superior to his European counterpart.42 Jennifer Keene argues that issues such as the treatment of African-American soldiers and disagreements about which nation contributed the most to the Allied victory created rifts between the two allies.43 In her full text, Keene narrates AEF interactions with their French Allies, and she claims that doughboys saw themselves as superior fighters who could help turn the tide of war.44 Michael Neiberg explains that United States citizens and soldiers came away from the conflict with the belief in the "inherent superiority" of the American system over that of Europe.45 38 Robert H. Zieger, America's Great War: World War I and the American Experience (Oxford: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2000), 92-102. 39 Zieger, America's Great War, 96. 40 Faulkner, Pershing's Crusaders: The American Soldier in World War I (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2017), 285. 41 Faulkner, 281-304. 42 Harold Winton, "Toward an American Philosophy of Command," The Journal of Military History 64, no. 4 (October 2000): 1059, https://www.jstor.org/stable/2677266. 43 Jennifer D. Keene, "Uneasy Alliances: French Military Intelligence and the American Army During the First World War," Intelligence and National Security 13, no. 1 (January 2008): 18-36, https://doi.org/10.1080/02684529808432461. 44 Jennifer D. Keene, Doughboys, the Great War, and the Remaking of America (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001), 105-11. 45 Michael S. Neiberg, The Path to War: How The First World War Created Modern America (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 23. Bailes 11 Even when historians convey a more positive relationship between the AEF and their Allied counterparts, they still address the tension between Pershing and Allied leadership. Robert Bruce portrays a much more positive partnership between the doughboy and his French ally. Bruce documents Marshal Joseph Joffre's visit to the United States after Congress declared war against Germany to muster American support for the French. By comparing France's visit to Britain's, Bruce argues that Joffre established the framework for an intimate Franco-American partnership.46 Bruce maintains that the French respected the American soldier and viewed the entry of the AEF into the war as the saving grace of the Allies. Bruce narrates a bond between doughboys and French troops that increased as they trained and fought together.47 Despite this positive portrayal by Bruce of the French and AEF bond, Bruce still highlights the tension in Pershing's interactions with French commanders as well as noting the general perception amongst French commanders that Pershing thought "he knew everything there was to know about modern warfare."48 Bruce adds that different peace aims and post-war sentiments towards Germany created disagreements amongst American and French soldiers that fractured the relationship built during the war.49 Of note, Bruce suggests that the doughboys harbored what they saw as a "perceived lack of aggressiveness in the French."50 After synthesizing the historiography, the question remains regarding how these two arguments can be linked. Why did Wilsonian ideals influence AEF actions in the First World War, and how did that affect the United States' involvement in the nation's first large-scale 46 Robert B. Bruce, "America Embraces France: Marshal Joseph Joffre and the French Mission to the United States, April-May 1917," Journal of Military History 66 no. 2 (April 2002): 407-441, http://doi.org/10.2307/3093066; Bruce, A Fraternity of Arms, 32-59. 47 Bruce, A Fraternity of Arms, 86-121. 48 Bruce, A Fraternity of Arms, 128, 143. 49 Bruce, A Fraternity of Arms, 286-95. 50 Bruce, A Fraternity of Arms, 122. Bailes 12 coalition operation? Wilsonian ideals influenced the AEF's actions in the First World War because most American leaders and soldiers shared Wilson's concepts of Progressivism and believed that the United States should play a role in saving Europe. Even if some did not agree with Wilson's politics, most doughboys shared his ideas of American Exceptionalism, and these views affected United States involvement in the nation's first large-scale coalition operation. In merging the two topic areas of Wilson's ideologies and AEF involvement in the war, this essay will attempt to answer how the American doughboy found motivation in the same principles that guided President Wilson. Perhaps a reader will identify that the AEF demonstrated trends in Europe that highlight an "American way of war" that still resonates in United States coalition operations today. When President Wilson brought the United States into the First World War in April of 1917, he sold it as an effort to make the world safe for democracy. In Wilson's war address to Congress, Wilson called Imperial Germany's resumption of their unrestricted submarine campaign "warfare against mankind."51 Wilson maintained that Imperial Germany had given the United States no other choice but to declare war when they resumed their submarine attacks on merchant ships in the early spring of 1917. Still, Wilson furthered his justification for war by appealing to the broader ideal of fighting to defeat the Imperial German autocracy. Wilson described the "selfish and autocratic power" against which a free people needed to wage war.52 Later in his address, Wilson stated that he found hope in what he saw as the restoration of power to the people demonstrated in the Russian Revolution. Wilson saw a pre-Lenin revolution as 51 Woodrow Wilson, "Address to a Joint Session of Congress Calling for a Declaration of War" in "President Wilson," Essential Writings and Speeches of the Scholar-President, ed. Mario R. DiNunzio (New York: NYU Press, 2006): 399, https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt9qfgbg.15. 52 Wilson, "Declaration of War," 400. Bailes 13 bringing democracy to the people of Russia, and it opened the door for the realization that the Allies fought because "the world must be made safe for democracy."53 Arthur Link comments on Wilson's initial optimism on hearing of the Russian Revolution overthrowing Czar rule.54 While the Russian Revolution took a different turn in the following years, the initial news of the Russian people revolting against the Czar gave Wilson confidence that democracy could spread in Europe since now the Allies truly represented a democratic system. Wilson had spent the first years of the war trying to mediate peace in Europe through United States neutrality, and he tried to negotiate an end to the fighting without a victory for any of the imperial belligerents. Wilson did not see a lasting peace coming to Europe if any of the imperial powers achieved their peace objectives, so he attempted to mediate a truce. Kendrick Clements narrates how Wilson's desire to keep the United States neutral grew at odds with his economic support for the Allies. War for the United States rose to be more likely as Imperial Germany became increasingly aggravated with the United States for supplying aid to France and Britain while professing neutrality.55 Fraser Harbutt argues that at the initial outbreak of war in Europe, leaders as well as citizens of the United States concerned themselves with the economic impacts of the war primarily, and the United States benefited economically by supporting the Allies, specifically in the steel trade.56 Imperial Germany's resumption of unrestricted submarine warfare, as well as the capture of Germany's Zimmerman Telegram in January 1917, soliciting an alliance with Mexico, prompted Wilson to support waging war on Imperial Germany. Now American entry into the conflict presented Wilson with some new options for shaping the post- 53 Wilson, "Declaration of War," 401-2. 54 Link, "Entry into World War I," 122-3. 55 Kendrick A. Clements, "Woodrow Wilson and World War I," Presidential Studies Quarterly 34, no. 1 (March 2004: 62-82, https://www.jstor.org/stable/27552564. 56 Fraser J. Harbutt, "War, Peace, and Commerce: The American Reaction to the Outbreak of World War I in Europe 1914," An Improbable War? The Outbreak of World War I and European Political Culture Before 1914, eds. Holger Afflerbach and David Stevenson (New York: Berghahn Books, 2007), 320-1. Bailes 14 war world. Thomas Knock describes how even though the United States entry into the war meant the essential failure of Wilson's "Peace Without Victory," the international community had seemingly bought into Wilson's concept of "collective security."57 In the previous few years of American neutrality, Wilson had advocated for creating a collection of democratic nation-states to band together to prevent war, and by 1917 the international community seemed interested. Wilson would use American belligerency to shape his new world order for peace. Russia's withdrawal from the war in March of 1918 made the need for a United States presence all the more significant for the Allies. The American soldier would be a crusader of sorts, attempting to cure Europe of the diplomacy of old that had brought her to destruction. The European July crisis of 1914 that erupted in a full-scale war the following month proved to be the culmination of decades of the European balance of power diplomacy that led to rival alliances and an armament race between the feuding dynasties.58 European power politics had dominated the continent for centuries, which inevitably escalated into a world war, and the United States soldier would have the opportunity to save the nations from which most of their ancestors had descended. Michael Neiberg argues that by 1917, the American people felt an obligation to enter the war to save Europe. While the people of the United States supported neutrality initially, Neiberg explains that public opinion swayed over time toward a desire to save Europe from the terror of Imperial Germany.59 The United States Secretary of War from 1916-1921, Newton Baker, published a text almost two decades after the armistice in which he maintained that the United States went to war to stop Imperial Germany and make the world safe for democracy. Baker took issue with the 57 Knock, To End All Wars, 115. 58 James Joll and Gordon Martel, The Origins of the First World War, 3rd ed. (New York: Routledge, 2013), 9-291. 59 Neiberg, The Path to War, 7-8, 31-3, 235. Bailes 15 historians of the 20s and 30s who claimed that economic interest influenced the United States entry into the war, and he argued they ignored the necessity of U.S. involvement to stop Germany. Baker explained that the American public remained overwhelmingly critical of the German autocracy and desired to intervene to save the European people.60 Private Alexander Clay of the AEF's 33rd Division demonstrated this sense of duty as he wrote regarding his 1918 deployment to France. As Clay's ship passed the Statue of Liberty while leaving the New York harbor, he thought to himself of the French leader Lafayette's role in securing United States victory during the American Revolution. He wrote that the AEF went to France to "repay the debt of our gratitude to your country for your country's alliance with our country in obtaining liberty from an oppressor England."61 For the United States to effectively reshape the world, there needed to be an independent American command that would ensure the United States contributed to the victory over Imperial Germany, which would give Wilson his seat at the post-war peace talks. In a January 22, 1917 address to the Senate in which he articulated his vision for peace in Europe, Wilson claimed that the warring European nations could not shape a lasting peace. While Wilson still did not advocate for United States intervention at this point, he did state that to achieve peace "[i]t will be absolutely necessary that a force be created as a guarantor of the permanency of the settlement so much greater than the force of any nation now engaged or any alliance hitherto formed or projected that no nation, no probable combination of nations could face or withstand it."62 In this speech, Wilson advocated for a "peace without victory" because he did not envision a peaceful 60 Newton D. Baker, Why We Went to War (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1936), 4-10, 20, 160-3. 61 Private Alexander Clay in American Voices of World War I: Primary Source Documents, 1917-1920, ed. Martic Marix Evans (Chicago: Fitzroy Dearborn Publishers, 2001; New York: Routledge, 2013), 19, Kindle. 62 Woodrow Wilson, "Essential Terms for Peace in Europe" in "President Wilson," Essential Writings and Speeches of the Scholar-President, 393. Bailes 16 outcome if any of the imperial powers achieved victorious peace terms.63 Wilson reiterated his stance that the United States should play a decisive role in shaping post-war Europe and ensuring that "American principles" guided the rest of the world.64 When the United States declared war against Imperial Germany a few months after this speech, it essentially put Wilson's vision into motion. Diplomatic historian William Widenor argues that Wilson realized that the United States needed to participate in the war "rather than as an onlooker" to achieve his visions for peace.65 Widenor notes Wilson's desire for the United States to enter the war as an "associate" to the Entente as opposed to an "ally," and Widenor maintains that Wilson desired to change the world and "democratize and also, unfortunately, to Americanize it."66 The late international historian Elisabeth Glaser captures the Wilson administration's balancing between maintaining an economic relationship with the Entente powers while attempting to remain "an independent arbiter in the conflict."67 Wilson appointed General Pershing to lead the American effort, and Wilson gave him the simple instruction to keep the American Expeditionary Forces as a command separate from the Allies. In 1928, the Army War College published The Genesis of the American First Army, which documented the details surrounding how the War Department created an independent army of the United States. The text includes a caption from Secretary of War Baker's memorandum to Pershing. Baker informed Pershing of Wilson's order to "cooperate with the forces of the other countries employed against the enemy; but in so doing the underlying idea must be kept in view that the forces of the United States are a separate and distinct component of 63 Wilson, "Essential Terms for Peace in Europe," 394. 64 Wilson, 396-7. 65 William C. Widenor, "The United States and the Versailles Peace Settlement," 42. 66 Widenor, 42-3. 67 Elisabeth Glaser, "Better Late than Never: The American Economic War Effort, 1917-1918," Great War, Total War: Combat and Mobilization on the Western Front, 1914-1918, eds. Roger Chickering and Stig Förster (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 390. Bailes 17 the combined forces, the identity of which must be preserved."68 The President did give Pershing the authority to decide how the AEF would integrate into Allied operations. Upon Pershing's June 13, 1917 arrival in Paris, he began making decisions regarding AEF employment as it pertained to logistics, training, and an initial American area of operations on the Western Front. With a plan of achieving a force of 1,328,448 men in France by the end of 1918, Pershing needed to ensure his troops were able to build combat power and prepare for war while simultaneously ensuring that he maintained a distinct American command.69 The following 17 months of conflict with American boots on the ground in Europe saw significant political and diplomatic friction between Pershing and the Allied commanders. Pershing attempted to keep his AEF intact while satisfying Allied requests for American soldiers to replace French and British casualties, especially when Germany launched their Spring 1918 offensives. Pershing described in his memoirs that the French and British requested American soldiers to fill their gaps on the front lines when they had each sent diplomatic missions to America shortly after the United States entered the war. Pershing maintained his adamancy against the United States "becoming a recruiting agency for either the French or British," and he recounted that the War Department retained his position as well.70 While Allied leaders ostensibly supported having an independent American army participate in the war effort, the need to replace casualties in the trenches proved to be their immediate concern. Russia withdrawing from the conflict allowed Germany to reinforce their strength on the Western Front and mount a series of offensives. Germany knew they had a limited window of time for victory 68 Army War College (U.S.) Historical Section, The Genesis of the American First Army (Army War College, 1928), Reprints from the collection of the University of Michigan Library (Coppell, TX, 2020), 2. 69 The Genesis of the American First Army, 2-9. 70 John J. Pershing, My Experiences in the World War, vol. 1 (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1931), 30-3. Bailes 18 with the United States continuing to build combat power, so they surged in the early months of 1918. Pershing faced a strategic dilemma of trying to support the Allies and get his troops in the fight while simultaneously attempting to build an independent American army. Ultimately, Pershing gave the Allies some of his army divisions as much needed replacements, and he made an effort to ensure that these divisions remained as intact as possible. Pershing endeavored to organize these divisions under a U.S. corps level command, but this corps command proved mostly administrative rather than tactical.71 By the time Pershing activated his independent American First Army, it only spent a few months in combat. The temporarily amalgamated doughboys Pershing gave to the Allies to meet their requests had contributed more to the defeat of Imperial Germany than Pershing's independent army. Mostly because Pershing had interspersed his divisions throughout the French and British fronts to meet the Allied requests for replacements, the American First Army did not activate until August of 1918. The September 20-25 Meuse-Argonne offensive would be the first significant operation for Pershing's independent army.72 David Trask concludes his critique of Pershing by recognizing the contribution that the American soldier played in providing manpower to the Allies. Trask commends the bravery of the American doughboy, but he argues that the amalgamated U.S. divisions contributed more to victory than the American First Army.73 In a similar vein, Mitchell Yockelson contends that the 27th and 30th Divisions who remained under British command throughout the war benefited over the rest of the AEF from extensive training led by the experienced British troops, and they contributed significantly to the Allied 71 The Genesis of the American First Army, 9-46. 72 John J. Pershing, Final Report of Gen. John J. Pershing: Commander-in-Chief American Expeditionary Forces. (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1919), 37-8; The Genesis of the American First Army, 45-58. 73 Trask, The AEF & Coalition Warmaking, 174-7. Bailes 19 victory.74 Pershing detailed his plans to capitalize on the initiative gained with his Meuse-Argonne offensive to deliver his decisive blow against Germany. The November 11 armistice came before he could achieve his grand vision.75 While the American doughboy played a critical role in providing an Allied victory over Imperial Germany, Pershing never realized his concept of an independent American command autonomously crushing the German army. The American soldier contributed most significantly to the Allied victory by taking part in offensives planned and conducted under the control of French and British Generals. Understanding American motivation during the war effort requires understanding the Progressive Movement taking place in the early-twentieth-century United States. Michael McGerr writes a detailed account of the cause and effect of the Progressive Movement. McGerr describes the wealth disparity brought about by Victorian society and the Gilded Age, and the class conflict emerging from this gave birth to a social and political movement that attempted to enact massive change in the American system.76 McGerr claims that the Progressive Movement attempted such major reform that no social or political action since has tried "anything as ambitious" due to the adverse reactions of such massive change.77 The Progressive Movement engulfed American society and brought about changes in family structures, race relations, and governmental powers. Herbert Croly illustrated the drive for monumental change rooted in the Progressive Movement with his text Progressive Democracy. In his narrative, Croly advocated for a complete overhaul of the American system to achieve freedom and alleviate wealth disparity. Croly saw governmental reform as the method for spreading democracy to all 74 Yockelson, Borrowed Soldiers, 213-23. 75 Pershing, My Experiences in the World War, vol. 2, 355-87. 76 McGerr, A Fierce Discontent, 3-146. 77 McGerr, 315-9. Bailes 20 citizens.78 In describing American public opinion during the time of United States entry into World War I, David Kennedy argues that for those Americans who championed progressive ideals, "the war's opportunities were not to be pursued in the kingdom of commerce but in the realm of the spirit."79 While the United States maintained a formidable economic link with the Allies throughout American neutrality, Wilson appealed to American ideals to garner public support for the war. United States entry into the war did not come as the natural development of the Progressive Movement. Still, the American public's reason for supporting the war certainly borrowed progressive sentiments. Wilson championed progressive initiatives that had ingrained themselves in the national mood of early-twentieth-century America. Wilson ran for President in 1912 on the principles he codified the following year in his text The New Freedom. Wilson argued that the Jefferson era of United States democracy had long ended. Wilson maintained that because of the new complexities found in American society, a "reconstruction in the United States" needed to occur to achieve real economic and social freedom.80 Ronald Pestritto articulates Wilson's vision for a governmental system as it relates to a society's history and progress. According to Wilson, the method of government that works for people depends on how far that population has progressed. In that manner, the government should always change to reflect the progression of its people best.81 Pestritto argues that a major theme found in Wilson's 1908 text Constitutional Government in the United States rests in the idea that: [T]here are four stages through which all governments pass: (1) government is the master and people are its subjects; (2) government remains the master, not through 78 Herbert Croly, Progressive Democracy (New York: Macmillan, 1914; New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers; Second printing 2006), 25, 103-18. 79 David M. Kennedy, Over Here: The First World War and American Society (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980; New York: Oxford University Press, 2004), 39. 80 Woodrow Wilson, The New Freedom: A Call for the Emancipation of the Generous Energies of a People (New York and Garden City: Doubleday, Page & Company, 1913), www.philosophical.space/303/Wilson.pdf. 81 Pestritto, Woodrow Wilson and the Roots of Modern Liberalism, 34-42. Bailes 21 force but by its fitness to lead; (3) a stage of agitation, when leaders of the people rise up to challenge the government for power; and (4) the final stage, where the people become fully self-conscious and have leaders of their own choosing.82 Wilson epitomized the Progressive Movement's ideals regarding the government adapting to the changes of the people to create a more representative system of government. He would appeal to these principles in advocating for United States intervention in Europe. An underlying sentiment existed within the Progressive Movement that sought to bring about massive change, and this energy extended into the war effort. Lloyd Ambrosius explains the rise of the United States as an imperial power during the Gilded Age and Progressive Era. The outcome of the American Civil War created a more powerful central government, and economic growth during the following decades allowed more opportunity for global expansion.83 As the United States extended its global presence, the ideals that formed the nation began to influence foreign policy. David Kennedy writes about the shift in prominent progressives toward support of the war effort. Kennedy references John Dewey as a significant advocate for utilizing the war to satisfy progressive initiatives. According to Kennedy, progressives found appeal in Wilson's reasons for American belligerency in Europe as "a war for democracy, a war to end war, a war to protect liberalism, a war against militarism, a war to redeem barbarous Europe, a crusade."84 Michael McGerr states that the First World War "brought the extraordinary culmination of the Progressive Movement."85 Regardless of the typical progressive view of war, progressives could find merit in Wilson's justification for United States involvement. 82 Pestritto, 37. 83 Ambrosius, Woodrow Wilson and American Internationalism, 26-32. 84 Kennedy, Over Here: The First World War and American Society, 50-3. 85 McGerr, A Fierce Discontent, 280. Bailes 22 Even though a vast segment of the United States population did not support going to war in Europe, the notion of saving Europe still permeated throughout American society. In a series of essays published in the July 1917 edition of The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, multiple thinkers of the time expressed the necessity of the United States entering the war to save Europe. Miles Dawson argued the importance of the United States' mission in the war by documenting the five "fundamentals" that made the United States unique, and he explained the importance of spreading those principles globally. Dawson advocated for the spreading of American ideals throughout the rest of the world.86 George Kirchwey argued that the United States must go to war to defeat Imperial Germany and secure peace. Kirchwey suggested that the war was a fight against an autocratic empire and a crusade to make the world safe for democracy. Kirchwey maintained that the United States needed to lead the effort in creating a world order for peace.87 Samuel Dutton saw the purpose of the United States as transcending party lines. Dutton suggested that the aim of defeating autocratic Imperial Germany needed to be a united American mission.88 Emily Greene Balch wrote that the United States "enters the war on grounds of the highest idealism, as the champion of democracy and world order."89 Walter Lippman argued that once the United States entered the war, they were obligated to fight to make the world safe for democracy. Lippman placed the blame for the war squarely on Germany and their aggression in Belgium and unrestricted submarine warfare. Similar to Wilson in his war address, Lippman drew parallels to the Russian Revolution and the 86 Miles M. Dawson, "The Significance of Our Mission in This War," The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 72 (July 1917): 10-13, http://www.jstor.com/stable/1013639. 87 George W. Kirchwey, "Pax Americana," Annals, 40-48, http://www.jstor.com/stable/1013645. 88 Samuel Dutton, "The United States and the War," Annals, 13-19, http://www.jstor.com/stable/1013640. 89 Emily Greene Balch, "The War in Its Relation to Democracy and World Order," Annals, 28-31, https://www.jstor.org/stable/1013643 Bailes 23 importance of it signaling that the Allies truly represented democracy.90 Wilson's reasons for war had found a voice in the academic circles of the United States, and they nested well with the progressive message. Wilson's goals for peace illustrate how Progressive initiatives manifested into the global sphere. In his August 18, 1914 address advocating for the American population to remain neutral during the European conflict, Wilson maintained that the United States held a responsibility "to play a part of impartial mediation and speak the counsels of peace and accommodation, not as a partisan, but as a friend."91 Similarly, when addressing the Senate over two years later communicating his persistent intent of mediating peace in Europe through American neutrality, Wilson criticized the demands for peace submitted by the Entente that sought revenge over Imperial Germany rather than a lasting peace. Wilson instructed that "peace must be followed by some definite concert of power which will make it virtually impossible that any such catastrophe should ever overwhelm us again."92 In line with his progressive ideology, Wilson believed in United States intervention in the European conflict that would fundamentally improve their diplomatic system entirely. The United States would intervene in Europe to not only end the conflict but restructure the political climate in a more peaceful, progressive manner. Kendrick Clements argues that Wilson's economic and diplomatic decisions throughout United States neutrality drew him into the war gradually as he continued to side with the Allies. Wilson attempted to maintain his ideals for peace as the United States continued to get closer to belligerency.93 When the United States entry into the war proved virtually inevitable, Wilson 90 Walter Lippman, "The World Conflict in Its Relation to American Democracy," Annals, 1-10, https://www.jstor.org/stable/1013638. 91 Woodrow Wilson, "An Appeal for Neutrality in World War I," 390. 92 Woodrow Wilson, "Essential Terms for Peace in Europe," 392. 93 Clements, "Woodrow Wilson and World War I," 63-81. Bailes 24 ensured that the reasons for fighting aligned with the progressive energy that moved within American society. A religious vigor inspired military action that can be seen as a product of the Progressive Movement as well. Richard Gamble narrates the origin of the opinion that the United States represented a light for the rest of the world, and he describes how this concept brought the nation into the war. Gamble argues that these Christian ideals drove the political climate as Wilson's vision echoed the religious sentiment, and they prompted men to fight.94 Gamble describes the "social gospel" movement that had energized progressive Christians in the United States as extending into the international realm. The same energy that had influenced Christians to enact domestic change had transcended into a desire to improve the world, and Wilson ensured these sentiments carried over into United States foreign policy.95 Ronald Pestritto argues Wilson's religious conviction and explains that Wilson linked his faith with his duty to help shape the rest of the world. Pestritto explains the belief that "America was a key battleground in the victory of good over evil."96 Richard Gamble's mention of literature such as Washington Gladden's 1886 "Applied Christianity" highlights the popular message of progressive faith that nests with Pestritto's argument.97 Wilson illustrated the linkage of religion and progressive reform when he spoke in Denver, Colorado, in a 1911 build-up to his run for the Presidency. Wilson commented that "liberty is a spiritual conception, and when men take up arms to set other men free, there is something sacred and holy in the warfare."98 Wilson went on to champion the necessity of finding truth in the Bible's message, and he concluded by warning against believing "that 94 Gamble, The War for Righteousness, 5-87. 95 Gamble, 69-87. 96 Pestritto, Woodrow Wilson and the Roots of Modern Liberalism, 40-3. 97 Gamble, The War for Righteousness, 49-67. 98 Woodrow Wilson, "The Bible and Progress" in "On Religion," Essential Writings and Speeches of the Scholar-President, https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt9qfgbg.7, 54. Bailes 25 progress can be divorced from religion."99 To Wilson, Christianity taught the spiritual duty of working toward social progress, and most progressive men of faith believed in these same sentiments which carried over toward United States actions in France. At the core of this Progressive energy and Wilson's peace aims were the sentiments surrounding an idea of American Exceptionalism. Many of the same ideas found in the religious aspect of the need to work for social progression catered to a sense of American Exceptionalism. In the same May 7, 1911 address in Denver, Colorado, Wilson spoke of the greatness of the United States as a direct correlation to the religious zeal and Biblical principles with which the founders had established the nation. According to Wilson, "America has all along claimed the distinction of setting this example to the civilized world."100 Wilson believed that the United States should serve as the model of Christian values for the rest of the world as "America was born to exemplify that devotion to the elements of righteousness which are derived from the revelations of Holy Scripture."101 In his text In Search of the City on a Hill, Richard Gamble describes how the United States narrative utilized an interpretation of divine providence to create an image of a nation built on religious principles that should serve as an example for the rest of the world.102 Lloyd Ambrosius describes the prevalent belief in the early twentieth-century United States that considered the United States a "providential nation" as citizens attempted to justify global expansion.103 If the United States existed as a providential manifestation of God's will, then that could rationalize the spread of the American system into the international realm. 99 Wilson, "The Bible and Progress," 53-9. 100 Wilson, 56. 101 Wilson, 59. 102 Richard M. Gamble, In Search of the City on a Hill: The Making and Unmakng of an American Myth (London: Continuum International Publishng Group, 2012), 6-119. 103 Ambrosius, Woodrow Wilson and Ameriam Internationalism, 33. Bailes 26 Men of faith found a divine message in the need for the United States to intercede in the global sphere to mold the world in her image. Wilson's brand of progressive history nested well with his idea of American Exceptionalism. Lloyd Ambrosius explains Wilson's fundamental belief that "primitive peoples moved toward greater maturity over the generations."104 Wilson applied this to the history of the United States. As Ronald Perstritto describes, Wilson believed that "the history of human progress is the history of the progress of freedom."105 As people progressed, they, in turn, developed a governmental system that allowed for more representation for its citizens. According to Ambrosius, Wilson believed that "the United States represented the culmination of progressive historical development."106 The American people had achieved real progression in Wilson's historical model, and democracy achieved through the American Revolution solidified his theory. Wilson certainly made this point evident in his writings regarding history. Wilson suggests that "the history of the United States demonstrates the spiritual aspects of political development."107 The United States embodied the ideal form of Wilson's progressive history. Wilson saw it as the responsibility of the United States to spread its exceptional personification of progressive history with the rest of the world. Wilson acknowledged his views on the uniqueness of the United States in his New Freedom. While arguing for progressive reform in the states, Wilson stated that "[t]he reason that America was set up was that she might be different from all the nations of the world."108 Indeed, Wilson believed in the providential nature of the United States, and he desired to shape the rest of the world. 104 Ambrosius, Woodrow Wilson and American Internationalism, 236. 105 Pestritto, Woodrow Wilson and the Roots of Modern Liberalism, 37. 106 Ambrosius, Woodrow Wilson and American Internationalism, 236. 107 Woodrow Wilson, "The Historian," Essential Writings and Speeches of the Scholar-President, 216, https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt9qfgbg.10. 108 Wilson, The New Freedom, 16. Bailes 27 Early in the war during the period of United States neutrality, Wilson's reasons for remaining neutral stemmed from his belief in the exceptional nature of the American system and his desire for the United States to stay clear of European affairs. Even in American neutrality, Wilson still sought to mediate a peace in Europe because he perceived a chance to spread the democracy of the United States to Europe. Wilson believed that he needed to mediate in the European conflict because "mere terms of peace between the belligerents will not satisfy even the belligerents themselves," and he questioned whether the Entente and Central powers fought "for a just and secure peace, or only for a new balance of power."109 Wilson's peace aims were in sharp contrast to the Allied leaders, which illustrated his emphasis that the United States should mold a post-war Europe, and this tied directly to American Exceptionalism. While the British leadership concerned themselves with imperial interests, the French sought revenge on Germany from the 1870 Franco-Prussian War. Wilson made it clear in his war address that the United States had "no quarrel with the German people."110 Wilson's vision for a post-war world remained focused on a lasting peace rather than what he perceived as selfish imperial gains or senseless revenge. American Exceptionalism formed the foundation for the interventionist foreign policy of the Progressive Era, and it profoundly motivated Wilson as well as the bulk of American society. Diplomatic historian William Appleman Williams details the rise of the United States as a global power. Williams argues that most Americans in the early twentieth-century United States agreed not only with "Wilson's nationalistic outlook," but they also agreed that the nation should serve as an example for the rest of the world.111 As mentioned previously, Miles Dawson contributed 109 Woodrow Wilson, "Essential Terms for Peace in Europe," 393. 110 Woodrow Wilson, "Declaration of War," 401. 111 Williams, The Tragedy of American Diplomacy, 86. Bailes 28 to the July 1917 The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science to voice the justification of United States intervention in France. In his text, Dawson defined the five uniquely American fundamentals as: 1. The inalienable right of every man to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness – not as a mere dead saying, but as a living reality. 2. The right of local self-government, within territories possessing or entitled to claim such right, embracing every power of government not expressly granted to the union. 3. The guaranty to each state of a forum for the redress of grievances of one state against another with full power to enforce the verdict of that forum. 4. The guaranty of a republican form of government to each constituent state. 5. The right and duty to maintain the union.112 To thinkers like Dawson, this unique set of traits not only provided United States citizens with a system of government that separated them from the rest of the world, but it inherently gave them a duty to spread the American ideology to the rest of the world. Fundamentally, the idea that the world should take the lead from the United States exemplified the broad theme of American Exceptionalism inspiring AEF actions in the war. With Progressivism and American Exceptionalism at the root of the war effort, the citizen-soldier of the AEF found inspiration in the same rhetoric. Nelson Lloyd described the "melting-pots" of the army cantonment areas in which soldiers who were born outside of the United States "have become true Americans. They have learned the language of America and the ideals of America and have turned willing soldiers in her cause."113 Michael Neiberg argues that a lasting legacy of United States involvement in the war became a unified American mission superseding any cultural allegiance, and "disagreements would no longer be based on ethnicity 112 Dawson, "The Significance of Our Mission in This War," 11. 113 Newson Lloyd, How We Went to War (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1922), 58, https://archive.org/details/howwewenttowar00lloyrich/page/n7/mode/2up. Bailes 29 or religion."114 United States entry into the war gave the American citizen-soldier a reason for fighting to preserve a democratic system in Europe, and Wilson's belief that the United States would play a central role became widespread amongst the ranks of the AEF. Lieutenant Willard Hill of the Transport Division and 94th Aero Pursuit Squadron claimed when hearing of the United States entry into the war "that this war is not over yet and that the U.S. troops will play a very decisive factor."115 The purpose of United States entry into the war inspired an idealism that would unify soldiers and champion a belief that the AEF would save Europe from the autocracy of Imperial Germany. Private Willard Newton of the 105th Engineers, 30th Division, exclaimed his joy during the September offensives by stating, "[a]t last we are at the beginning of a real battle between Prussianism and Democracy! And we are to fight on the side of Democracy that the world may forever be free from the Prussian peril!"116 The sentiments of these soldiers expressed a voice that echoed Wilson's desire to utilize an American army to bring peace to Europe, and Pershing dutifully followed his instructions. Pershing's stubbornness in not giving in to the Allies' request to amalgamate troops remained the most significant source of friction between him and the Allied military leaders. Still, Pershing's belief that the doughboy remained a superior warrior to the French and British soldier intensified Pershing's negative feelings toward his Allied counterparts. Pershing did not hide his views regarding coalitions when he wrote early in his memoirs that "[h]istory is replete with the failures of coalitions and seemed to be repeating itself in the World War."117 Russell Weigley argues that Pershing believed "that only by fighting under American command would 114 Michael S. Neiberg, "Blinking Eyes Began to Open: Legacies from America's Road to the Great War, 1914-1917," Diplomatic History 38, no. 4 (2014): 812, https://doi:10.1093/dh/dhu023. 115 Lieutenant Willard D. Hill (Cleburne, Texas) in American Voices of World War I, 47. 116 Private Willard Newton (Gibson, North Carolina) in American Voices of World War I, 140. 117 Pershing, My Experiences in the World War, vol. 1, 34. Bailes 30 American soldiers retain the morale they needed to fight well."118 This assertion proved incorrect as those American doughboys who fought under French and British command performed extraordinarily.119 David Trask maintains that Pershing's "presumption that the American troops were superior to others in the war helps explain his stubborn insistence on an independent army even during the greatest crisis of the war."120 Although the German Spring Offensives of 1918 put the Allies in desperate need of replacements, Pershing held his ground in resisting amalgamation. He only agreed to temporary amalgamation after much deliberation. Pershing's plan required maintaining a separate and distinct American force if the United States was to play a critical role in defeating Imperial Germany. This plan did not always synchronize with General Foch's overall plan for the Allied strategy for defeating Imperial Germany. Mitchell Yockelson describes an instance in late September 1918 in which a newly established AEF officers' school near Pershing's headquarters pulled a bulk of American officers from the front lines, which "affected the AEF First Army divisions that were about to attack in the Meuse-Argonne operation."121 United States political leadership back home undoubtedly noticed the friction between Pershing and the Allied leaders. David Woodward mentioned that at one point, Wilson and Secretary Baker intervened to plead with Pershing to be more accommodating to the Allies. According to Woodward, "Pershing proved as immovable as ever when it came to wholesale amalgamation and introducing Americans to trench warfare before he deemed them ready for combat."122 118 Weigley, "Pershing and the U.S. Military Tradition," 335. 119 Weigley, 335. 120 Trask, The AEF & Coalition Warmaking, 61. 121 Yockelson, Borrowed Soldiers, 127. 122 Woodward, Trial by Friendship, 168-9. Bailes 31 Pershing's doctrine of "open warfare" proved predicated on a firm belief in the exceptional quality of the American fighting man. In his memoirs, Pershing documented his view that the results of the Battle of the Marne had placed the opposing forces in a trench defensive that had taken away their aggression and ability to fight an offensive battle. Pershing maintained that "victory could not be won by the costly process of attrition, but it must be won by driving the enemy out into the open and engaging him in a war of movement."123 Sergeant-major James Block of the 59th Infantry, 4th Division, wrote after an offensive near Belleau Wood that his troops "had proven to ourselves that we were the Hun's master, even in our present untrained condition. The Hun could not stand before us and battle man to man."124 David Trask argues that Pershing's reliance on the rifle and bayonet under his open warfare doctrine limited the AEF's ability to adapt to the combined arms fight as quickly as did the French and British.125 In his Final Report, Pershing praised the Allied training system that prepared his inexperienced troops for combat on the Western Front. Although he admitted that his soldiers needed to learn from the experiences of the combat tested French and British, he stated that "[t]he long period of trench warfare had so impressed itself upon the French and British that they had almost entirely dispensed with training for open warfare."126 Pershing relied heavily on his infantrymen, and he saw the rifle and the bayonet as the superior weapon. He did not factor advances in the machine gun, tanks, and artillery to integrate all lethal assets onto the battlefield. According to Richard Faulkner, Pershing planned on using his troops – who he believed were 123 Pershing, 151-4. 124 Sergeant-major James W. Block (Marquette, Michigan) in American Voices of World War I, 108. 125 Trask, The AEF & Coalition Warmaking, 19. 126 Pershing, Final Report, 13-5. Bailes 32 better suited for offensive warfare – to "force the Germans from their trenches into open terrain where the Allies' greater resources would then destroy the unprotected enemy army."127 Perhaps nothing exhibited Pershing's obtuse attitude toward his Allied counterparts more than his desire to beat the French in seizing Sedan from the Germans. Pershing outlined his wishes that his "troops should capture Sedan, which the French had lost in a decisive battle in 1870."128 Russell Weigley comments on Pershing's intent "to try to snatch from the French army the honor of recapturing the historic fortress city of Sedan, where the Emperor Napoleon III had surrendered to the Prussians on September 1-2, 1870."129 Sergeant-major Block described the fierce German resistance during the late September Allied offensives. Still, he claimed that "[o]nce the Americans penetrated that line, their advance northward would be comparatively easy. Sedan would fall next."130 The AEF performed well during the offensives in early November, and the crumbling Imperial German army made Sedan easily attainable for either Pershing's Second Army or the Franco-American armies.131 David Trask points out the diplomatic issue that would ensue if Pershing were to "deprive the French army of this honor."132 The new commander of the American First Army, General Liggett, ultimately did not carry out the attack, which undoubtably prevented a political and diplomatic disaster.133 Russell Weigley maintains that Liggett changed plans after "the offended French" updated him of Pershing's plans on November 7.134 The idea that Pershing wished to take away French retribution by giving 127 Faulkner, Pershing's Crusaders, 285. 128 Pershing, My Experiences in the World War, vol. 2, 381. 129 Weigley, "Pershing and the U.S. Military Tradition," 342. 130 Sergeant-major Block in American Voices of World War I, 135. 131 Bruce, A Fraternity of Arms, 282-3. 132 Trask, The AEF & Coalition Warmaking, 174. 133 Trask, 174, 134 Weigley, 343. Bailes 33 his troops a decisive victory and morale boost demonstrated his disconnect from the sentiments of his Allied counterparts. Pershing's belief in the superiority of the American soldier to his French and British counterpart extended to the lower ranks of the AEF. While perhaps sensationalizing his account, Scout Corporal Edward Radcliffe of the 109th Infantry, 28th Division wrote regarding actions around St Agnon "that the French of the 10th or 6th army had fallen back, their officers being shot by our men when they ordered them to retreat."135 In a post-World War I survey, Sergeant Donald Drake Kyler of the 16th Infantry, 1st Division answered a question about what he learned about America and Americans from the war. Sergeant Kyler stated that "Americans are inclined to brag about their systems and accomplishments which may or not be superior to those of other peoples or cultures."136 In many of the accounts of AEF actions in Europe, General Pershing and his doughboys showcased American Exceptionalism. Richard Faulkner devotes a chapter of his text to argue that most of the AEF doughboys perceived inferiority in the French way of life compared to the United States. The majority of white AEF soldiers came away from the war, believing that, in terms of technology as well as general health and welfare, American society remained superior to that of France and England.137 Faulkner makes note that "with the notable exception of the African Americans, the soldiers generally believed that their society was markedly superior to anything they encountered in Europe."138 Sergeant-major Block wrote a letter home to his parents during the post-war occupation period. He wrote of the perception that "Paris makes up for the backwardness of the rest of France."139 135 Corporal Edward Radcliffe in American Voices of World War I, 94. 136 Sergeant Donald Drake Kyler (Fort Thomas, Kentucky) in American Voices of World War I, 196. 137 Faulkner, Pershing's Crusaders, 188-93. 138 Faulkner, 189. 139 Sergeant-major Block in American Voices of World War I, 191. Bailes 34 While the bond formed between the French and British soldiers and the AEF doughboy proved strong, there still seemed to be a sentiment of American superiority amongst the AEF ranks. Tasker H. Bliss, who served as Army Chief of Staff from September 1917 to May 1918, documented the challenge of absent unified Allied command in a 1922 essay. Bliss wrote a detailed piece in which he criticized the lack of a unified Allied mission while praising General Foch and championing his eventual selection as "Allied Commander-in-Chief."140 Bliss condemned the Allied leaders for waiting so long before establishing any sort of unified command, and he argued that for the first years of the war, they fought for their national goals only. Bliss maintained that this hindered United States integration into the war effort as well.141 Charles Pettit wrote an account of his time on the Western Front. Initially serving in the British army, Pettit joined the AEF once they arrived and concluded his 42 months of combat with the Rainbow Division. Pettit commented that "[w]e know why the French and English didn't win the War. They was waiting for us."142 Robert Bruce expands on the relationship between the American and French soldiers during the post-war occupation period. The doughboys believed that the Allied victory had eliminated the threat of autocratic Imperial Germany. At the same time, the French soldiers still demonstrated distrust of the German for fear of a future war. According to Bruce, "Americans did not want to hear about the need to prepare for a future war with Germany. They believed that victory in the Great War and the conversion of Germany to a democracy was enough to end the menace; Americans were unwilling to do more."143 For the AEF doughboy, the United States' actions in the war had saved Europe from the threat of the 140 Tasker H. Bliss, "The Evolution of the Unified Command," Foreign Affairs 1, no. 2 (December 1922): 1-30, https://www.jstor.org/stable/20028211. 141 Bliss, 7-30. 142 Charles A. Pettit in Echoes From Over There: By the Men of the Army and Marine Corps who Fought in France, eds. Craig Hamilton and Louise Corbin (New York City: The Soldiers' Publishing Company, 1919), 107-9. 143 Bruce, A Fraternity of Arms, 289. Bailes 35 Imperial German autocracy. United States' involvement in its first large-scale coalition operation had solidified the dominance of the American soldier and the system for which he fought. The American doughboy contributed significantly to the Allied victory over Imperial Germany. Without American boots on the ground in France, Imperial Germany may have defeated the Allies. Allan Millett argues that Pershing's independent army did not achieve all that Pershing had hoped. Still, Millett maintains that an accurate assessment of the war would be that the "Allies might have lost the war without the American Expeditionary Forces."144 With the Russian withdrawal from the war and Germany's surge in the Western Front in the Spring of 1918, the Allies desperately needed more boots on the ground. AEF actions in Cantigny, Belleau Wood, and the attack on the Hindenburg line proved the value of the doughboys to the Allied victory over Imperial Germany and the Central Powers. Acknowledging the contribution of the American soldier to the Allied victory should remain a critical focus of any study of United States involvement in the war. While the presence of American troops on the ground benefited the Allies and did give Wilson his seat at the post-war peace talks, Pershing did not realize his grand vision of an independent American army crushing Imperial Germany. Bullitt Lowry documents Pershing's desire to capitalize on increasing the United States combat power to continue pressing a weakening German army and deliver a crushing blow.145 The Germans signed the armistice before Pershing could make this happen. While Wilson gained his seat at the peace conference and Pershing did not get his chance to win a tactical victory, the French and British still received their original desires and delivered Germany "harsh armistice terms."146 144 Millett, "Over Where?," 251. 145 Lowry, "Pershing and the Armistice," 286-91. 146 Lowry, 291. Bailes 36 With the eventual collapse of the League of Nations, Wilson never achieved his vision of a new world order for peace. Still, the United States government had established its importance and commenced its entry into the realm of global powers. United States involvement in the First World War helped solidify a national identity as well as establish an American presence on the international stage. Theodore Roosevelt Jr. wrote a letter on May 15, 1919, in which he documented the benefit of the war and what he saw as "Americanizing and democratizing" the soldiers through military service.147 Roosevelt commented that through service in support of the war effort, "love of the men for their country has been deepened, that their sense of real democracy has been sharpened and steadied and that insofar as any possible bad effect goes, the men are more than ever ready and determined to see order and fair play for all."148 In a similar vein, Italian born AEF Sergeant Morini wrote that the war provided him a chance "to make good on my Americanism."149 To Morini, fighting in the war provided him with "the right to the name Yankee all right."150 While the United States' efforts in the war were in support of the Allies, the war became a chance for the nation to claim its identity. A country that had been torn apart by civil war half a century before utilized the war effort to continue to unify and recover its self-proclaimed providence. The war ostensibly became an effort to Americanize its own citizens. The historiography of United States involvement in the First World War presents various arguments. Some historians such as David Trask and Russell Weigley remain critical of General Pershing and his decision making. While some scholarly history shows a narrative less scathing of Pershing, most of the description found in popular history showcases valiant actions of 147 Theodore Roosevelt in Echoes From Over There, 95. 148 Roosevelt, 95. 149 Sergeant Morini in Echoes From Over There, 115. 150 Morini, 115. Bailes 37 Pershing and his efforts in maneuvering the American Expeditionary Forces to achieve victory for the Allies against Imperial Germany. The fact remains that while the doughboys contributed significantly to the Allied victory, they helped the most when they were not fighting Pershing's fight. In his Final Report, Pershing highlights the benefit that the Allies provided to the American forces. In terms of training as well as logistics, the Allies provided the doughboys with the resources they needed to defeat Imperial Germany and the Central Powers effectively.151 Pershing recognized what the Allies had supplied him and his men, but his stubbornness and arrogance still clouded his vision to a degree. While Pershing did build a trusting relationship with the Allied commanders, and his troops were efficient, he did not always operate per their same vision. At times, Pershing's desire to maintain an independent American army superseded his desire to enable the Allied strategy. Pershing strived to meet Wilson's intent of keeping a distinct American command. The question remains if, in carrying out his President's instructions, Pershing prolonged the war and delayed the defeat of the Central Powers. Secondary and primary source literature from the First World War showcases both Wilson's peace aims – which were shaped by his ideology – as well as General Pershing and AEF actions while attempting to remain an independent command in the war. When war broke out in August 1914 in Europe, Wilson tried to mediate a peace while maintaining United States neutrality. When continued trade with the Allies brought the United States into the war in April of 1917, he seized the chance to shape a new world order by establishing an independent American command to defeat Imperial Germany. Primarily because of the Progressive Movement in the United States and the concepts surrounding American Exceptionalism, the American soldier embraced Wilson's ideologies for fighting and fought valiantly to defeat the 151 Pershing, Final Report, 90. Bailes 38 Imperial German autocracy. The Progressive Movement had established itself in American society by the time the citizen-soldier went to war in France, and the principles of American Exceptionalism permeated in virtually every facet of American culture. The American doughboy carried both of these concepts with him to France. Despite Pershing not attaining his decisive blow against the German army, and Wilson not achieving his vision for a new world order, the United States still met a significant amount of Wilson's original intent for entering the war. Wilson's ideologies influenced how the AEF fought in France. As the First World War shaped the United States standing as a global power, it also demonstrated the critical nature of maintaining relationships with coalition partners. Hew Strachan begins the conclusion to his history of the war by stating that "[t]he First World War was a coalition war."152 The American doughboy established a positive relationship with his French and British counterparts. The ability of the American soldier to learn from the experiences of the combat tested Allies, to adapt to the rigors of trench warfare, and to perform well in battle fighting beside his international partners shows the success of the AEF's performance in the nation's first large-scale coalition operation. Despite these successes, the AEF doughboy exhibited American Exceptionalism in the First World War. As the United States built its presence in the international realm over the following century, and the need for maintaining partnerships with allied nations continued to increase, the precedent set by the AEF in the nation's first large-scale coalition operation would be essential. 152 Hew Strachan, The First World War (New York: Viking Penguin, a member of Penguin Group, 2004; New York: Penguin Group, 2013), 303. Bailes 39 Bibliography Secondary Sources Adas, Michael. "Ambivalent Ally: American Military Intervention and the Endgame and Legacy of World War I." Diplomatic History 38 no. 4 (September 2014): 700-712, http://doi.org/10.1093/dh.dhu032. Ambrosius, Lloyd E. Wilsonianism: Woodrow Wilson and His Legacy in American Foreign Relations. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002. Ambrosius, Lloyd E. Woodrow Wilson and American Internationalism. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2017. Ambrosius, Lloyd E. "World War I and the Paradox of Wilsonianism." The Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era 17 (2018): 5-22, https://doi.org/10.1017/S1537781417000548. Bruce, Robert B. A Fraternity of Arms: America and France in the Great War. Lawrence: The University Press of Kansas, 2003. Bruce, Robert B. "America Embraces France: Marshal Joseph Joffre and the French Mission to the United States, April-May 1917." Journal of Military History 66 no. 2 (April 2002): 407-441, http://doi.org/10.2307/3093066. Clements, Kendrick A. "Woodrow Wilson and World War I." Presidential Studies Quarterly 34, no. 1 (March 2004): 62-82. https://www.jstor.org/stable/27552564. Coffman, Edward M. The War to End All Wars: The American Military Experience in World War I. Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 1968. Egerton, George W. "Britain and the 'Great Betrayal': Anglo-American Relations and the Struggle for United States Ratification of the Treaty of Versailles, 1919-1920." The Historical Journal 21, no. 4 (December 1978): 885-911. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2638973. Esposito, David M. "Woodrow Wilson and the Origins of the AEF." Presidential Studies Quarterly 19 no. 1 (Winter 1989): 127-140, https://www.jstor.org/stable/40574570. Faulkner, Richard S. Pershing's Crusaders: The American Soldier in World War I. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2017. Gamble, Richard M. In Search of the City on a Hill: The Making and Unmaking of an American Myth. London: Continuum International Publishing Group, 2012. ———. The War for Righteousness: Progressive Christianity, the Great War, and the Rise of the Messianic Nation. Wilmington: ISI Books, 2003. Bailes 40 Glaser, Elisabeth. "Better Late than Never: The American Economic War Effort, 1917-1918." Great War, Total War: Combat and Mobilization on the Western Front, 1914-1918, edited by Roger Chickering and Stig Förster. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000: 389-407. Gregory, Ross. The Origins of American Intervention in the First World War. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1971. Harbutt, Fraser J. "War, Peace, and Commerce: The American Reaction to the Outbreak of World War I in Europe 1914." An Improbable War? The Outbreak of World War I and European Political Culture Before 1914, edited by Holger Afflerbach and David Stevenson. New York: Berghahn Books, 2007: 320-334. Joll, James and Martel, Gordon. The Origins of the First World War. 3rd ed. New York: Routledge, 2013. Keene, Jennifer D. Doughboys, the Great War, and the Remaking of America. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001. Keene, Jennifer D. "Uneasy Alliances: French Military Intelligence and the American Army During the First World War." Intelligence and National Security 13, no. 1 (January 2008): 18-36. https://doi.org/10.1080/02684529808432461. Kennedy, David M. Over Here: The First World War and American Society. New York: Oxford University Press, 2004. First published 1980 by Oxford University Press (New York). Kennedy, Ross A. "Woodrow Wilson, World War I, and American National Security." Diplomatic History 25, no. 1 (Winter 2001): 1-31. https://doi.org/10.1111/0145-2096.00247. Knock, Thomas J. To End All Wars: Woodrow Wilson and the Quest For a New World Order. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2019. First published 1992 by Oxford University Press (Oxford). Link, Arthur S. "Entry into World War I." Progress, War, and Reaction: 1900-1933, edited by Davis R.B. Ross, Alden T. Vaughan, and John B. Duff. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Company, Inc., 1970: 108-148. Lowry, Bullitt. "Pershing and the Armistice." The Journal of American History 55 no. 2, (September 1968): 281-291. https://www.jstor.org/stable/1899558. McGerr, Michael. A Fierce Discontent: The Rise and Fall of the Progressive Movement in America. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. Millett, Allan R. "Over Where? The AEF and the American Strategy for Victory, 1917-1918." Against All Enemies: Interpretations of American Military History from Colonial Times to the Present, edited by Kenneth J. Hagan and William R. Roberts. Westport: Greenwood Press, Inc., 1986: 235-256. Bailes 41 Neiberg, Michael S. "Blinking Eyes Began to Open: Legacies from America's Road to the Great War, 1914-1917." Diplomatic History 38, no. 4 (2014): 801-812. https://doi:10.1093/dh/dhu023. ———. The Path to War: How the First World War Created Modern America. New York: Oxford University Press, 2016. Pestritto, Ronald J. Woodrow Wilson and the Roots of Modern Liberalism. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2005. Stevenson, David. "French War Aims and the American Challenge, 1914-1918." The Historical Journal 22, no. 4 (December 1979): 877-894. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2638691. Strachan, Hew. The First World War. New York: Viking Penguin, a member of Penguin Group, 2004. Reprinted with a new introduction. New York: Penguin Group, 2013. Page references are to the 2013 edition. Trask, David F. The AEF & Coalition Warmaking, 1917-1918. Lawrence: The University Press of Kansas, 1993. Weigley, Russell F. "Strategy and Total War in the United States: Pershing and the American Military Tradition." Great War, Total War: Combat and Mobilization on the Western Front, 1914-1918, edited by Roger Chickering and Stig Förster. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000: 327-345. Widenor, William C. "The United States and the Versailles Peace Settlement." Modern American Diplomacy, edited by John M. Carroll and George C. Herring. Lanham: SR Books, 1996: 41-60. Williams, William Appleman. The Tragedy of American Diplomacy. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1959. Reprinted for Fiftieth Anniversary with a foreword by Lloyd C. Gardner and afterword by Andrew J. Bacevich. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2009. Page references are to the 2009 edition. Winton, Harold R. "Toward an American Philosophy of Command." The Journal of Military History 64, no. 4 (October 2000): 1035-1060. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2677266. Woodford, David R. Trial by Friendship: Anglo-American Relations, 1917-1918. Lexington: The University Press of Kentucky, 1993. Yockelson, Mitchell A. Borrowed Soldiers: Americans Under British Command, 1918. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2008. Zieger, Robert H. America's Great War: World War I and the American Experience. Oxford: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2000. Bailes 42 Primary Sources Army War College (U.S.) Historical Section. The Genesis of the American First Army. Army War College, 1928. Reprints from the collection of the University of Michigan Library Coppell, TX, 2020. Baker, Newton D. Why We Went to War. New York: Harper & Brothers for Council on Foreign Relations, 1936. Balch, Emily Greene. "The War in Its Relation to Democracy and World Order." The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 72 (July 1917): 28-31. https://www.jstor.org/stable/1013643. Bliss, Tasker H. "The Evolution of the Unified Command." Foreign Affairs 1, no. 2 (December 1922): 1-30. https://www.jstor.org/stable/20028211. Croly, Herbert. Progressive Democracy. New York: Macmillan, 1914. Second printing in 2006 of new material edition with an introduction by Sidney A. Pearson, Jr. New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers, 1998. Page references are to the 2006 edition. Dawson, Miles M. "The Significance of Our Mission in This War." The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 72 (July 1917): 10-13. http://www.jstor.com/stable/1013639. Dutton, Samuel T. "The United States and the War." The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 72 (July 1917): 13-19. http://www.jstor.com/stable/1013640. Echoes From Over There: By the Men of the Army and Marine Corps Who Fought in France. Edited by Craig Hamilton and Louise Corbin. New York City: The Soldiers' Publishing Company, 1919. Evans, Martin Marix, ed. American Voices of World War I: Primary Source Documents 1917-1920. New York: Routledge, 2013. Kindle. Kirchwey, George W. "Pax Americana." The Annals of the American Academy for Political and Social Science 72 (July 1917): 40-48. http://www.jstor.com/stable/1013645. Lippmann, Walter. "The World Conflict in Its Relation to American Democracy." The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 72 (July 1917): 1-10. https://www.jstor.org/stable/1013638. Lloyd, Newson. How We Went to War. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1922. https://archive.org/details/howwewenttowar00lloyrich/page/n7/mode/2up. Pershing, John J. Final Report of Gen. John J. Pershing: Commander-in-Chief American Expeditionary Forces.Washington: Government Printing Office, 1919. ———. My Experiences in the World War. 2 vols. New York: Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1931. Bailes 43 Wilson, Woodrow. Essential Writings and Speeches of the Scholar-President. Edited by Mario R. DiNunzio. New York: NYU Press, 2006. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt9qfgbg.1-18. ———. The New Freedom: A Call For the Emancipation of the Generous Energies of a People. New York and Garden City: Doubleday, Page & Company, 1913. www.philosophical.space/303/Wilson.pdf.

Issue 1.3 of the Review for Religious, 1942. ; Review for Religious MAY 15, 1942 The General Chapter of Elections . Adam C. Ellis Retreat Resolutions . Clarence McAuliffe Reparation to the Sacred Heart . Malachi J. Donnelly The, Pivotal Point of Good Will . G. Augustln~ Ellard Scruples Versus the Human Way . ~ Gerald Kelly Hints for Sacristans . Gerald Ellard The Presumed Permission . ¯ . James E. Risk Book Reviews )uestions Answered E)ecisions of the Holy See VOLUME NUMBER 3 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME I MAY 15. 1942 NUMBER CONTENTS. THE GENERAL CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS IN A RELIGIOUS CONGREGATION Adam C. Ellis, S.3 . 146 FOR CHURCH MUSICIANS . " . 156 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS---Clarence McAuliffe, S.J . 157 BOOKS RECEIVED . , . 166" ¯ SOME PAMPHLETS . 166 REPARATION IN THE DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART Malachi J. Donnelly, S.J. . ." . . . 167 THE PIVOTAL POINT OF EFFECTIVE GOOD WILL G. Augustine Ellard, S.J . 170 SCRUPLES VERSUS THE HUMAN WAY---Gerald Kelly. S.J. 187 HINTS FOR SACRISTANS~erald Ellard, S.J . 194 THE PRESUMED PERMISSION--Jame$.,E~. Risk. S.J . 196 BOOK REVIEWS PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIAN AND RELIGIOUS PERFECTION . 206 BLESSED ARE THEY THAT HUNGER By the Reverend Richard Graef, C.S.Sp. 206 THE MASS OF BROTHER MICHEL. By Michael Kent . 207 FAST BY THE ROAD. By John Moody . ; 208 THE CATHOLIC REVIVAL IN ENGLAND. By John ,J. O'Connor 209 MEDIEVAL HUMANISM. By the Reverend Gerald G. Walsh, S.J. 209 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS 210 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Extension of Temporary Vows; Use df Parish School Funds; Is Reli-gious Habit a Sacramental; Days of Abstinence during Lent; Languages during Canonical Year; Inspection of Letters: Administration of Anes-thetics: Aspirant of East Syrian Rite: Converts from Greek Orthodox Church; Indulgence for Kissing Habit: Extending Period of Probation: Chanting of Little Office; Working during Evening Recreation 211 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1942. Vol. I, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November, at The College Press, 606 Harrison Street; Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.d. Copyright, 1942, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. PHnted in U. S. A. The General Chap!:er ot: I::lect:ions in a Religious Congregat:ion Adam C. Ellis, S.3. BY CHAPTER in a reli.gious institute is meant the lawful assembly of those members to whom the con-stitutions give the right to vote when matters of im-portance are to be discussed and decided. Chapters may be general, provincial, or local, according as they represent an entire institute (order or congregation), or a province, or a local community. Provincial and local chapters meet, as a rule, only for the election of delegates to the general or provincial chapter respectively. In this article we are concerned only with the g.eneral chapter, though many of its provisions will apply equally well to a provincial or local chapter. An ordinarg general chapter is convoked at the times prescribed by the constitu-tions-~ every three or six years, or at other regular inter.- vals. An extraordinar~ general chapter is ofie convoked outside the time of the ordinary chapter~ Constitutions approved by the Holy See usually prescribe that an ex-traordinary chapter may not be convoked without the per-missioh of the Holy See, except in the case of the death or resignation of the superior general. The purpose of the general chapter is two-fold: to elect superiors, and to transact other important business. The first kind of chapter is usually called the chapter of elections; the second, the business chapter, or the chapter of affairs. We are dealing here with the chapter of elections only, which is governed by the regulations of the Code of Canon Law as well as by the provisions of the constitu-tions which are not contrary to the Code (cf. canon 507. §1). 146 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS Time, Place, and Cor~oocation of Chapter. The common law of the Church does not prescribe any particular place for the meeting of the general chapter of elections. The constitutions usually allow the superior general to determi.ne the date and place of the chapter, with the deliberative vote of his council. Sometimes, however, they prescribe that the chapter be held in the motherhouse, and set the day for it as well. In the absence of any definite regulations of the constitutions, the superior general with his council is free to determine the day on which the chap-ter is to be held, as well as its meeting-place. This is true even in the case of a diocesan congregation of religious women which has houses in more than one diocese, as was declared by the S. Congregation of Religious on June 17, 1921, when it explicitly stated that the choice of the meet-ing- place of the chapter rested with the superior general, and not with the local Ordinary in whose diocese the moth-erhouse is located. At the same time the S. Congregation declared that the right to preside over the election in the case mentioned belonged to the local Ordinary in whose diocese the election took place, hence not to the Ordinary of the motherhouse, unless the election is held in his dio-cese. Pope Benedict XV confirmed these decisions and ordered them to be published. The day and place of the general chapter having been determined upon, the superior general will then convoke the chapter, usually by means of a circular letter to be sent to all those who have a right to assist at the chapter. The constitutions usually pr.escribe that such letters are to be sent at least three, if not six, months before the day on which the chapter is to meet. An error in convoking the chapter does not make the election invalid unless one third of those who have a right to attend have not been sum-moned and, by reason of this irregularity, have not taken 147 ADAM C. ELLIS part in the voting (cf. canon 162, § 3). Electors or Members of the Chapter The constitutions will determine who have a right to take part in a chapter of elections. The following are com-monly members of such a chapter: 1. The superior general; 2. The members of his council; 3. All ex-superiors general; 4. The secretary general; 5. The treasurer general; 6. Provincials and two or more delegates from each province, if there are provinces; 7. Local superiors, and delegates of the various houses chosen according to the constitutions. The common law of tl~e Church prescribes that reli-gious with temporary vows have neither active nor pas-sive voice1 unless the constitutions explicitly grant it to them. The constitutions sometimes grant active voice to religious with temporary vows, seldom if ever passive voice. The number of years required by the constitutions for the enjoyment~ of active and passive voice is tO be counted from the" first profession of temporary vows, un-less the constitutions provide otherwise (cf. canon 578, 30). It is customary to elect substitutes for all delegates who are elected to take part in a chapter of elections. These substitutes take the place of such delegates as are impeded or who do not wish to attend the chapter. Unless the con-stitutions declare otherwise, the religious who have been elected delegates may give up their right to attend the chap-ter. XActive voice is the tight to vote: passive voice is the right to be voted for or to be elected to an ot~ce, 148 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS Prelirainar~.t Session of Chapter In a preliminary session of the .chapter it is customary to examine the credentials of all the delegates to the chap-ter. This having been done, the assembly proceeds by se-cret vote to the election of at least two "scrutineers".0r tellers (cf. canon 171, § 1), unless these are already desig-nated by the constitutions. They must be elected from among the members of the chapter. After being elected they take an oath to fulfill their of Iice faithfully, and to observe secrecy regarding everything done in the chapter of elections. A secretary is usually elected in a similar man-ner, unless one of the tellers acts in this capacity. General Regulations Regarding Voting On!y those religious who are actually present in the chapter have a right to vote. Votes sent in by mail or cast by proxy are forbidden and invalid, unless the constitu-tions or a special privilege granted by the Holy See author-ize the employment of those methods (cf. canon 163). An exception., however, is made in favor of members of the chapter who are in the house but unable to attend the meetings because of illness. Such a person's vote given in writing shall be collected by the tellers and placed with the other votes, unless particular laws or a legitimate custom determine otherwise (cf. canon 168). All must abstain from seeking votes either directly or indirectly for themselves or for others, and no one may validly vote for himself (cf. canons 507, § 2, 170). This does not forbid the members-of the chapter from seeking information from one another regarding the qualities of this or that religious. The constitutions frequently pro-vide for such an opportunity before the day of the election. All votes must be freely given. A vote directly or indirectly extorted by grave fear or fraud in favor of a 149 ADAM C. ELLIS determined person, or of one of a group of persons, is an invalid vote (cf. canon 169, §.1). In order to be valid, a vote freely cast for an eligible candidate must have four qualities: it must be secret, cer-tain, absolute, and determined (cf. canon 169, § 2). Each one of these qualities demands a brief explanation. A secret vote. This means that no member of the chapter may make known to another, the pers6n for whom he voted. A vote which is made public is by that very fact invalid. However, for special reasons, a member of the chapter may declare before the president and the tellers which person he wishes to vote for. The vote is secret, since all the persons to whom it is made. known are bound under oath. not to reveal it. Though not strictly speaking required by law, a written ballot is the most common and most convenient form of carrying on the election and safe-guards the secrecy req.uired. It would seem to be the only form contemplated by the Code. A certain vote. In order to be certain the vote must glare the full name of the person v6ted for so as to distin-guish him from all other persons having a similar name. A vote cast for "the person who will receive the majority of the votes," is an uncertain vote. A vote which cannot be read, or understood, is likewise uncertain; as is also a blank vote. An absolute vote. Each vote must be free from all con-ditions. A vote cast for Peter "provided he is fifty years old," would be an invalid vote. If the condition, however, merely expresses a requirement of the law for the valid election of the person voted for, the. vote would not be invalid: But such conditions should not be put in the vote when given since they are presupposed. A determined vote. An alternative vote is invalid. 150 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS Such would be, for example, a vote cast for "either Peter or Paul." In conclusion it may be well to note that an invalid vote does not make the balldt in which it is cast invalid. Such an invalid vote is simply not.counted. By accident it may keep the person for whom it was given from getting the required majority of votes. The Election of the Superior General -Before the voting begins for the election of higher superiors in institutes of religious men, all and each of the members of the chapter shall promise under oath to elect those whom they deem before God should be elected (cf. canon 506, § 1). This oath is not required of reli-gious women. In institutes of religious men the superior general pre-sides over the election unless the constitutions provide otherwise. In congregations of religious women the elec-tion of the mother general is presided over by the Ordinary of the place in which the election is held. He may preside personally or through a delegate (cf. canon 506, § 4). For the election of superiors the common law requires an absolute2 majority of votes on either the first or second ballot, while a relative majority suffices on the third ballot, If, on the third ballot, the highest number of votes is given equally to two or more persons, the presiding officer may determine the election by casting his vote, but never in his own favor. Should he decline to do so, then the senior by reason of ordination, or of first profession, or of age, shall be regarded as elected (cf. canon 101, § 1, 1°). Theconsti- 2An absolute majority is constituted by any number exceeding half the number of valid votes cast, for instance, 9 out of 16, 10 out of' 19, and so forth. The person receiving the greatest number of votes cast is said. to have a plurality or relative majority of the votes cast when that number does not constitute an absolute majority of all the'votes cast. Thus, in a chapter in which 25 votes are cast,-,John may receive 11, Peter 8, and Paul 6. ,John has a relative majority. 151 ADAM C. ELLIS tutions may require a greater number of votes, for instance, a two-thirds majority for the election of the superior gen-eral. Constitutions approved by the Holy See usually require that :a fourth ballot be taken in case the third ballot does not result in an absolute majority. ¯ In this fourth bal-lot only the two religious who have received the greater number of votes on the third ballot are eligible for election, though they themselves are excluded from voting on the fourth ballot. In case this fourth ballot results in a tie, the election is determined by priority of ordination, or of first profession, or of age, respectively as mentioned above. The Voting Process When all are prepared the voting begins. It is the duty of the tellers to see to it that the votes be cast by each elector secretly, diligently, separately, and according to the order of precedence (cf. canon 171, § 2). No particular form of collecting the votes is prescribed by the common law, though the constitutions usually determine some detailed method, for instance, the tellers carry a locked box into which each member casts his sealed vote, or the members proceed slowly, one by one, to-the table or desk of the presiding officer, and there deposit their votes in an urn or box, under the watchful eyes of the tellers. When all the votes have been thus.collected, the tellers shall examine in the presence of the presiding officer, according to the manner prescribed by the particular con-stitutions or legitimate customs, whether the number of votes corresponds to the number of electors. Should the number of votes exceed the number of electors, the ballot is invalid (cf. canon 171, §§ 2 and 3), the ballots are destroyed, and a new vote taken. If the number of ballots does not exceed that of the number of electors, they are opened one by one so as to be seen by both tellers, and by 152 " CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS the presiding officer, and noted down by the secretary. After the votes have been counted the presiding officer or one of the tellers announces to the chapter how many votes each candidate has received. This may be done in either of two ways. After each vote is opened and inspected by the tellers and the presiding officer, the name of the person voted for is read aloud.-Or after the votes have been counted, the final results may be read to the chapter by the presiding officer or by one of the tellers. The constitutions or custom will determine the method to be followed. The votes are to be burned immediately after each bal-lot, or at the end of the session if several ballots were taken during it (cf. canon 171., § 4). When the election of the superior general has been com-pleted according to the prescribed formalities, the presiding officer will declare it lawful, proclaim it, and receive the oath of the newly elected superior general. Thereupon the religious both of the chapter and of the community will make their obedience according to custom. All the acts of the election shall be diligently written down by the secretary and, after being signed at least by him, by the presiding officer, and by the tellers, they shall be carefully preserved in the archives of the congregation (cf. canon 171, § 5). Acceptance and Confirmation of the Election The announcement of the result of the election made to the chapter is sufficient notification if the person elected is present; if he is not present the result should be officially communicated to him, and he is to be summoned to the chapter, all further business of which is suspended until his arrival. Unless the constitutions state the contrary, the reli-gious elected is not obliged to accept the office. Should he 153 ADAM C. ELLIS renounce it; he loses all the rights connected with the same, and a new election is held. In the case of diocesan congregations of religious women, the election of the mother general must be con-firmed by the Ordinary who presides over it. For grave reasons, according to his conscience, he may refuse to con-firm the election (cf. canon 506, § 4). In that case, how-ever, he may not appoint the superior general, but a new election must be held. Postutaiion It may fiappen that the members of a chapter wish to have for their superior a religious who is able and worthy to fill that office, but who is excluded from it by some impediment of church law from which the-competent ecclesiastical ~uperior can and is accustomed to dispense. Such a person cannot be validly] elected, but the members of the chapter may postulate him, provided that he receives two-thirds of. the votes of the chapter (cf. canons 179, § 1; 180, § 1)which means that they ask the Holy See to grant the necessary dispensation. Postulation, however, may be admitted only in an extraordinary case and provided the constitutions do not forbid it. (cf. canon 507, § 3). In a letter addressed to the local Ordinaries of the world on March 9, 1920, the S. Congregation of Religious instructed them to be very strict in allowing postulation in the case of the superior general of a congregation of religious women who has just com-pleted two terms of office. In such a case the simple desire of the members of the chapter to re-eleCt the same superior, or the mere ability of the person to fill the office, is not a sufficient reason for postulation. If, however, other grave reasons seem to require the choice of the same person beyond the time allowed by the constitutions, the Ordinary must 154 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS send a petion to the S. Congregation, in which it is clearly stated what the reasons are, how many ballots were taken, and how many votes were in favor of the person postu-lated. Finally the OMinary must state his own opinion in the matter. The S. Congregation will then give a decision. The fact that the constitutions expressly allow postulation does not excuse from the requirements of this instruction. In case of postulation the members of the chapter who wish to vote for an ineligible person, must write on their ballot: "I postulate N. N." Election of Other Officers The newly elected superior general presides over the election of the other officers to be chosen by the general chapter, unless the constitutions allow the Ordinary the right of presiding likewise at the election of the members of the general council. These elections are usually held in a separate session Of the chapter. The manner of voting is the same as that employed in the election of the superior general. An absolute majority of votes is required on the first and second ballot. If no one has received such a major2 ity, a third ballot is taken in which a relative majority is sufficient. ,If on this third ballot two or more candidates receive an equal number of votes, the presiding officer may cast a deciding vote, though he is not .obliged to do so. If he declines to use his right, the person who is senior by ordi-nation, or by first profession, or by age, is considered elected. The constitutions may provide for a fourth bal-lot in case the third re.sults in a tie. If the person elected is not a member of the chapter, he must be summoned at once, but the chapter does not await his arrival in order to continue its business. After the elections are over, the former superior gen-eral, the members of his council, the secretary general and 155 ADAM G. ELLIS the treasurer general, usually continue to sit in chapter with active voice as long as it r~mains in'session, even though they may have been replaced in their offces by other reli-gious. Should the superior general die during his term of offce, or resignbefore its completion, the assistant superior gen-eral will take his place in the government of the community and will ~onvoke an extraordinary chapter in which dec-tions will be held not only for a new superior general, but also for all the other offices which are usually filled by election in general chapter. The reason for this is that all ¯ the officers elected in a general chapter hold office from chapter to chapter, rather than for a "definite number of years. FOR CHURCH MUSICIANS Of unusual yalue to religious and seminarians working in the field c~f church music is 'the new Catholic Choirmasters' Correspon-derice Course. Four semesters of ~olle'giate° work, accredited by St. Albertus College Department of Music, are done under personal tutorship and will be coricluded with summer schools in 1943 and 1944. The lessons have been prepared by a~ faculty international in personnel and repute, including Dom Desrocquettes0 Dr. Becket Gibbs, Dom Ermin Vitry, Father Gerald Ellard, and others. Zest and .authority characterize their teaching, and phonograph recordings assist amply in problems that need the living voice. General' editor is Clifford Bennett, Gregorian Institute, 1515 Berger Building, Pittsburgh, Pa. Those interested may obtain an attractive pros-pectus by writing to the General Editor. 156 Retreat Resolutions Clarence McAuliffe, S.3. AS ~WEGO ON in the religious life, certain practices, n6t binding under pain of sir/, but nevertheless, of paramount importance in their bearing on the whole spiritual structure, become increasingly .difficult. Among these are the particular examination of conscience, certain rules governing religious discipline, such as the rule of silence, and the formulation of apt resolutions during re-treat. That the delicate web of religious virtues clings for partial support upon the particular examen is admitted by all ascetical writers. The same holds true for the rule of silence, since its utter neglect means the undermining of the spirit of prayer and recollection. But the resolutions we take in our annual retreat are even of greater moment since the continued practice of the particular examen and the preservation of a prayerful disposition depend in no small measure upon them. If we reflect on our happy novitiate days, we shall remember that we experienced no difficulty in making resolutions and recording them. We jotted them down carefully as tokens of our affection for our Divine Savior Who alone besides ourselves knew what they were. We may still have them. We may smile now at some of their characteristics. No doubt we took too many resolutions; we aimed too often at purely external practices; we may even have aspired to fanciful performances. But we can-not deny that they did us good. They kept us fervent: they kept our ideals high; they were concrete proof of our good will in God's service; they bolstered our flagging spir-itual forces. As long as we exercised care in formulating and inditing resolutions during our retreat, we were also 157 CLARENCE MCAULIFI~E faithful to our particular examen and observant of a cred-itable practice of silence. If we ever relaxed our diligence in making resolutions during retreat, our particular exa-men becamea half-hearted or neglected undertaking and our love for silence grew notably remiss. No Excuse t:or Neglect W.hy should the task, for task it is, of taking retreat resolutions ever be neglected by. us? What truly solid rea-son can we give for not writing them down and keeping them close at hand? Every man or woman engaged in a profession or business or in any other activity of moment pauses now and then to determine hn altered course of ac-tion. Small defects ard bound to seep in unnoticed, but they impede success and must b~ removed. Positive prog-ress also must be made; knowledge must be extended; greater zest must be engendered or the business will grow languid and die. Merchants do not hesitate to pay ample fees to public accountants and efficiency experts. These men detect pecuniary losses and open up new fields of ac-tivity for the merchant, and he makes definite plans accord-ing to their advice. Are we religious not engaged in a pro-fession, and a profession transcending all others? Can we deny that peccadilloes of one kind or another are, almost unobserved, weakening the fabric of our spiritual gar-ments? .that we are yet far distant from the glorious hori-zon of perfec~tion to which God beckons each one of us? Should we hesitate during our annual retreat to be our own public accountants and efficiency experts because of the unreasonable murmurings of our natural selves? A Faoorable Time for Resolutions Certainly no time is better suited for determining new spiritual policies than the annual retreat. During it we are segregated from our active duties; we engage in several days RETREAT RESOLUTIONS of silent communing with God; we see again what we al-ways know, but never reduce to perfect practice, that we are made only to serve Him; our spiritual ideals, dimmed by a whole year's mis~, are refurbished; God himself speaks to us and we hear His whisperings periodically, during each day of retreat pleading with us: "Why not give up this sin-less, but inordinate attachment for my sake? Why not de-vote more attention to developing this virtue?" Further-more, our subjective condition is fit for taking sage resolu-tions. We are calm, tranquil; excessive nervous tension, emotional ebullitions, the agitation engendered by custom-ary daily contact with other human personalities m all these vanish in the solitude of retreat. Those New Year resolutions so widely publicized by the newspapers can scarcely ever be successful if brought to bear upon spiritual matters, because the hectic round of daily duties and dis-tractions impedes clear vision and sound judgment. But the retreat is the New Year for religious and it is certainly to our shame if we pass up this one propitious occasion for taking efficacious resolves. Retreat resolutions are apt to be successful for another reason. Our profession is spiritual and its successful prac-tice does not depend on mere human endeavors. God called us to the religious life; He keeps us in it'; .He enables us every day to live it. Any resolution we take is doomed to failure if we count upon our own natural energies to fulfill it. Even the simplest, such as thedetermination to prepare Our meditation more carefully, to make an additional visit to the Blessed Sacrament, to relinquish some convenient, but unnecessary article, cannot be accomplished without the grace of God. Consider what vast stores of grace we must obtain in time of retreat. Not only do we perform our ordinary spiritual exercises, but the whole time is one continual prayer. A veritable mountain of sanctifying. 159~ CLARENCE MCAULIFFE grace is accumulated and with it the right to actual graces to be given us in the future as we need them. We shall need them particularly in order to be faithful to our reso- ¯Iutions, the fruit of our retreat, and they will be supplied generously and persistently by God, success depending solely upon our wholehearted cooperation. Negative Resolutions Why, then, we may ask have our resolutions so often been failures?' Why is it that we can hardly recall them after a few weeks perhaps? Have we been grossly negli-gent in corresponding with the grace of God? Not neces-sarily so. Perhaps our resolutions were not prudently made. God constructed the human being according to very definite laws. If we take resolutions contrary to these laws, especially our psychological laws, we can scarcely expect God to work a miracle to enable us to keep them. For in-stance, most' of us are probably too negative in drawing.up our resolutions. We will not do this; we will not do that; we will quit doing this, and so on. In other words, we pay entirely too much attention to our faults. If we are com-mitting deliberate sins, we must, of course, make them the first object of our determinations. But 'such is not usually the case. We fret over our imperfections or merely semi-deliberate faults, forgetting a sound teaching of theology which declares that it is impossible for any person without a special privilege, rarely granted, to keep from these even for a single day. The chances are that such defects spring from temperament, nervous disposition, unstable health or some other natural cause, partially, at least, beyond our control. Now it is a psychological law that negatives de-press the human soul. If our retreat resolutions comprise merely a lengthy list of "Don'ts" over inconsequential matters, we are .quite surely going to let them lapse. The 160 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS human soul is too lofty in its aspirations to be fettered' by a chorus of petty "I will not's"; it soars to the highest heavens in search of God Himself; unending vistai of per-fection lie stretched out before it and microscopic imper-fections are no obstacle to exalted sanctity even if they stay with us to our dying day. How much wiser it would be to 'resolve: "I will pay an additional visit to the Blessed Sac-rament each day this coming year for a few minutes out of love for my Savior," than to promise: "I will never sit down during meditation in the chapel", when, as a matter of fact, constant kneeling may so distract us that we cannot pray at all from bodily uneasiness. Besides, protracted kneeling may even do us positive corporal harm unless our backs and nerves are of rugged texture. How Man~/ Resolutions? Another mistake to which we may easily succumb is that of taking too many resolutions. It is true that a hun-dred resolutions would be none too many when we see in retreat the intricate labyrinth of perfection. Even so, it would certainly be unwise to take more than four. or, at most, five. Here again asimple law of. human psychology enters into play. We are so constructed that a multiplicity of resolves overbalances US~ dissipates our energies and re-sults in no accomplishment whatever. We cannot expect our Savior to rescind that law in our case by a miracle. It is well for us to recall that old axiom of spiritual au-thors that to advance in one virtue is to advance in them all. Progress, for instance, in the spirit and practice of obedi-ence necessarily reflects progress in the love of God. But love is the pith and core of all sanctity; loreis the all-em-bracing virtue; it means a closer alliance with God, more intimate union with Him; if it makes the tree of obedience more verdant, it must necessarily transmit its vigor to the 161 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE entire forest of virtues. Bearing this in mind, we should in retreat pay heed, firit of all to our vows. An outpost to one of them may have been weakened during the previous year. Then we should look to the virtues animating the vows and make a few positive resolutions that will stimu-late their growth. We must never forget that a religious observant of the vows is a good religious. Focusing our attention upon them, we keep our resolutions down to a minimum. Yet we will make more rapid spiritual s~rides .than we would if we squandered our resources by making decisions on the whole gamut of faults and virtues. The Search After Causes Our resolutions may result in failure for another rea-son also. They may be too vague, too imprecise, too gen-eral. For example, how often have we resolved in retreat to be more fervent in our spiritual exercises! No one could condemn a determination to better these exercises of piety. It is they especiall.y that keep our spiritual lives vigorous and bolster our flagging virtue. But what happened to that resolution to make them more devotedly? For a day or two, for a week or two perhaps, we were more attentive .to them and then, behold, we soon found ourselves in the same old rut of routine and mechanical performance. Why? Simply because our resolution violated a metaphysical law which states that to attain a purpose it is necessary to .~elect means, causes, that will conduce to its realization. If we resolve only upon the end to be achieved, we shall accomplish nothing. Every day we dream ofthings we should like to do, but we neglect the specific means to the end and our resolves are thus mere fancies relegated to the vast mound of inefficacious desires. If we really wish to improve our meditation, examinations of conscience and other spiritual exercises, let us investigate the reason 162 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS why they are performed so perfunctorily. Ii it because we indulge in considerable unnecessary talking? This will certainly dissipate the mind and react upon our spiritual exercises. If we make a determination to practise silence, we shall find that contact with God will become much eas.ier and our meditations will improve. Is it due to un-regu. lated affections of the heart? Then a resolution must be taken to watch carefully over such ungoverned move-ments by removing their occasions as far as possible. Is it due to stark physical fatigue? Then we can do nothing directly, but perhaps we can adopt some regime that will improve our health. Is it due to some other cause? Then let us examine for that cause and decide to overcome it if possible. Definite resolutions of these kinds will inject new life into our meditation whereas a mere hazy resolve to perform it better will soon vanish. This point is of the utmost consequence. Take another example. Most of us are guilty of positive faults against charity and all of us could practise this virtue much more perfectly. Shall we then determine during retreat: "I shall be more charitable"? Such a resolution is praiseworthy,, as a sign of our good will in God's service, but it is bound to lapse just as is the vague determination to do better in our spiritual exercises. If we wish to be more charitable, we must pry into the reasons why we are not more charitable. If we wish to obtain an effect, we must find a proportion-ate cause to produce it. Do we fail in charity because we associate only with those whose temperaments .are con-genial? because we areof a squeamish disposition and allow tiny impolitenesses to jar our nerves? because we indulge in idle ,gossip and small talk? because we have a biting or ridiculing tongue? Could we add blossoms to our charity by interesting ourselves in the activities of others? by de-veloping the spirit of a good listener? by watching for 163 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE opportunities to say a kindly word or express Our sym-pathy? Ways and means to add lustre to this virtue are truly endless. If one defect, in particular, makes us un-charitable, let us in retreat decide to banish it; if some precise means of burnishing our charity occurs to us, let us determine to adopt it. Then we shall find that Christ's own spirit of charity will take root and flourish in our souls. The Bizarre Resolution Fantastic and complex resolutions should also be avoided. Though we never relax our aim at the highest possible perfection, we always keep our feet anchored to earth by the bonds of prudence and common sense. The human mind can only think of one thing at a time; the will can be directed toward only one conscious goal at a time. Both faculties are bound to be smothered by kaleido-scopic resolutions. Suppose a religious were to emerge from retreat armed with this single resolve: From eight o'clock in the morning when her active day began until ten at night when she retired, exactly fourteen hours inter-vened, the same number of hours as there are stations of the cross. During the coming year she would divide the day according to the stations. From eight to nine in the morning she would live in the spirit of the first station, the condemnation of the Savior. From nine to ten her thoughts would Be engrossed with the second station, and so on throughout the day. It is not likely that this well-inten-tioned religious would keep that resolution. It is too bizarre and too involved .and would require constant at-tention from morning to night every single day. Human nature could not stand such a strain without well-nigh miraculous support. 164 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS Keeping the Resolution Once our resolutions are taken and written down, how can we perpetuate them for three hundred and sixty-five days? By adopting them as subjects for Our particular ex-amination of conscience. How often we puzzle over a suitable subject for this examen! The problem vanishes if we have our retreat resolutions on hand. Even though these be only three or four,, they will provide ample matter for the examen. Each resolution can be the subject for a few weeks or a month. Thereafter each resolution can be repeated again and, if this becomes wearisome, variety may be introduced without changing the subject matter. FOr instanc.e, if one of our retreat resolutions is to eliminate unnecessary talking, we can practise this for some days under the patronage of the Blessed Virgin and in imitation .of her silence in the home at Nazareth. Later on, we might exercise it in union with Christ in the desert and in His infancy and in His secluded hours of prayer upon the mountain. At another time we may practise it by repeated ejaculatory prayers to some favorite saint whose help we implore. In this way the subject will not grow tedious and it will never lose its value Since it is one of our rdreat resolutions. These may also be kept alive and vibrant by referring to them duriag the monthly recollection. Why devote this period to any other consideration when God has shown us in our previous retreat what actions of ours will most please Him? Despite our best efforts, however, we shall make un-successful resolutions. In framing them we may continue to violate the laws of human psychology. We may not observe them even for a week though we honestly wanted to do so. We should not be discouraged. God values our good will; and our retreat resolutions, if written down, are 165 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE palpable proof of this" good will. The resolutions of our novitiate days were often ill-formed and impossible of achievement, but they secured God's blessing for us. We kept the vows though we did not as yet have them; rarely did we commit even a deliberate venial sin; we strove by our clumsy retreat resolutions to improve our religious lives. These resolutions won from Christ the gift of fer-vor. He Will reanimate and increase that fervor if we per-severe in taking and recording resolutions during our re-treat. BOOKS RECEIVED (7"0 be reviewed later.) I PRAY THE MASS~. By Hugo H. Hoever, S. O: Cist. Catholic Book Publishing Company. New York. MARCH INTO TOMORROW. By, 3ohn ,J. Considine, M.M. Field Afar,Pres~. New York. ~, . WATCH AND PRAY. By ,John Moffatt, S.~J. The Bruce Publishing' Company. Milwaukee. IN THE SHADOW OF OUR LADY OF THE CiENACLE. By Helen M. Lynch; R.C. The Paulist Press. New York. SOME PAMPHLETS Cheer Up!; Be of Good Heart!; Have ConfidenCe!; Take Courage! These four pamphlets are by Father Bruno Hagspiel, S.V.D. They consist of a varied collection of Scripture texts, anecdotes, poems, and so forth, all designed to cheer the downhearted.~ Price, 10 cents a copy. May be obtained from The Mission Press, Techny, I11. Also, four pamphlets listed under the general title, GOSPEL MOVIES, that treat of Grace; Faith; Sin; Wed in Christ. They contain brief stories based on the Gospels and illustrating these various topics. All are written by Father Placldus Kempf, O.S.B. Price, 10 cents a copy. May be obtained from THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad~, Indiana. 166 Reparation in t:he Devotion t:o !:he Sacred I-leart: Malachi 3. Donnelly, S.J. THE "great apparition" of our Lo~d to St. Margaret Mary took place duiing the Octave of Corpus Christi, most probably in 1675. Showing her His Heart, our Lo~d said: "Behold this Heart which has so loved men, which has spared nothing, even to being exhausted and consumed, in order to testify to them its love. And the greater number of them make me no other return than ingratitude, by their coldness and their forgetfulness of me in this Sacrament of love. But what is still more painful to me is, that it is hearts who are consecrated to me who use me thus." And our Lord continued: "It is because of this that I ask you to have the first Friday after the Octave of Corpus Christi kept as a special feast in honor of my Heart. by receiving Communion on that day and making it a reparation of honor for all the insults offered to my Heart during the time that it has been exposed on the altars." The end of the devotion to the Sacred Heart, as revealed to St. Margaret Mary and as approved by the Church, is reparation to this same Heart for the coldness and indif-ference, for the sins and insults suffered by the Sacred Heart, especially in the Sacrament of His love. Reparation, in general, means the making up for an injury or offense committed against one to whom honor and love are due. In the case of reparation to the Sacred Heart, this presup-poses a real personal wound in that Heart caused by the sins of men, and a real ability on the part of those devoted to the Sacred Heart to repair this wound. This confronts us with two difficulties: 1) how can the Heart of Jesus now suffer? 2) how can we repair His sufferings? 167 MALACHI ,J. DONNI~LLY The soul of Jesus Christ.in heaven experiences no sor-row, nor does His glorified body know aught of pain. His perfect happiness can be dimmed by absolutely nothing: nay! not even by the most heinous sins of ungrateful men, How, then, could He complain of the coldness and indif-ference of m~n, and that in words which, seemingly indicate that each sin of the present day is a direct and piercing wound in His Sacred Heart? In a word, the solution lies in an Understanding of the knowledge that Christ, as Man, enjoyed during His, life on earth. Our Blessed Lord was both God and Man. As Man He enjoyed the beatific Vision throughout His whole life. Now, through this vision He received the complete perfection of His intellect. He knew all things that per-tained to His office, His dominion, His mission on earth, all that pertained to the plan of redemption. The knowledge that Christ had, as Man~ was like unto the eternal knowledge of God. During His whole lithe, .especially during the Passion, Christ',' as Man, had knowl-edge of future things; the good and bad 'actions of all men were directly1 present to His mind. Just as a giant search-light in one blazing stream of light covers at once a half-mile area and every inch of space therein, or just as the human eye gazing on a distant landscape sees the whole and each detail at the same time, so, too, did Christ see through the whole of time to come and all the actions of men con-tained therein. He saw all future events as actually present before His eyes and each event was the direct object of His vision. In order to understand better the relationship between the knowledge of Christ and reparation in the devo-tion to the Sacred Heart, let us go in imagination with Jesus to the garden of Gethsemani. As Jesus kneels in 168 REPARATION TO THE SACRED HEART meditation, He begins to grow sad. Why? This sadness can only be caused by the vision in His human mind. As He kneels there, the sins of all men Unfold before His eyes; all the ingratitude of men--especially, of those from whom He might well have expected better things--is directly present to His clear vision. Not a.single sin --- even an ever so secret sin of desire-~elu~les His all-seeing gaze. Also (and this is the consoling aspect of Gethsemani), every single act of reparation of those especially devoted to His Sacred Heart was present to Him. And, as Jesus looked upon these acts of reparation, His loving Heart felt real and deep consolation. When, therefore, at the present time we perform acts of reparation, it is perfectly true to say that there is direct contact between our act of reparation and the Heart of Christ in Gethsemani. Time and space are wiped out. His knowledge bridges nineteen hundred years as readily as we look across a river. We are present before His eyes: our acts of reparation console Him, our sins cause Him sorrow-ful agony. What should be the effect of this truth that all our actions were actuatl~t present to the suffering Christ in His Passion? A deep realization of this can only ground more firmly our love for the Sacred Heart and spur us to more ardent acts of loving reparation to the Sacred Heart. Just as the spokes of a wheel lead to the hub, with which they are in direct contact, so likewise do all the reparatory actions of men the world over lead back to Christ in the Garden; establish immediate contact with His Suffering heart. And the deep realization of this solidly established truth should arouse the deepest aspirations of our hearts and wills to do our utmost to console the great and loving Heart of Jesus. 169 The Pivol:al Point: ot: l=fl:ec!:ive ,ood Will G. Augustine.Ellard, S.J. ['Because of the importance of Father Ellard's theme, and because of the length of the article, we thought that the followihg summary might be appreciated by those who wish some handy way of visualiz!ng and recalling the points devdopedin the article. The Roman numerals refer to the same divisions of the text.--ED.] Summary I. The problem of bringing about moral good will is illustrated by three cases: a)" Good~ but weak, will in oneself; b) Generous, but inconstant, will in oneself; c) Irresponsive or bad will in others. II. What is meant by the expression: "the pivotal point of good will"? III. Things which do not constitute it. IV. It does consist in the realistic appreciation of values. These terms defined. V. Reasons for the assertion: a) Common sense; e) Philosophy; b) ExperienCe; f) Sacred Scripture; c) Observation; g) Theology. d) Experimental psychology: gI. The characteristics of the knowledge that is d~]namic, i.e. apt to move or strengthen the will: a) Presentation of the right aspect; e) Actuality: b) Sufficient" quantity ; f) Novelty ; c) Personal reference: g) Affinity and sympathy. d) Immediacy and imagery; VII. Practical conclusions-- 1. To move or strengthen the will for the present: Realize the values of motives: a) Learning what the pertinent values are; Means: b) Serious reflection and prayer, especially mental: c) Organization of the motives. 2. To steady the will in the future: Have the realization in the focus of consciousness at critical moments. a) Recollection; c) Habituation: Means: b) Association; d) Experience. 170 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL SISTER Mary Frail is making her annual retreat. More clearly than she has been wont, she sees the magnifi-cence and beauty of the divine plan for herself, she is delighted with it, and she feels that it would the grand-est thing possible to carry it out in all its fulness. Also she notices that to do so would mean giving up certain rather dear little habitual imperfections. She is torn between two conflicting attracti6ns. Though she is free, and by all means would be pleased to embrace .the whole of the divine plan for her, especially since it is all for her own happiness, still she finds that her will does not respond as she would like. Making his retreat also is Father Inconstant. He finds no great difficulty in resolving upon the noblest courses, but in looking back over many retreats, many excellent resolutions, and many performances not so excellent, be feels rather distressed at the sight of his inconstancy. This time, if possible, he is going to make the new beginning that will stick. Just how--well, that is not too clear to him. Brother Zealous faces a different kind of difficulty. He is a teacher, and he is glad to do everything he can to make good Christians out of his charges. But often enough he finds that his pupils are irresponsive or wilful. Is there anything we can do for Sister Mary Frail, Father Inconstant, and Brother Zealous? Their problems concern wills, their own and those of their charges. Pos-sibly, some consideration of that upon which moral good will turns in a peculiar way, may be of service to them. II. By "the pivotal point of good will" let us under-stand a certain something that precedes good will itself and that, more than anything else, is a condition of its coming into being. Of course it does not determine the will; for man, being free, makes his own determinations, But even the free will is dependent upon previous conditions, and it 171 -G. A. ELLARD is the principal of these that we propose to consider. Ill. This pivotal point of good will cannot be simply knowledge. Hardly anyone would maintain nowadays the old doctrine attributed to Socrates that knowledge makes virtue. It is not freedom of the will; everybody knows by sad experience that he cannot make himself good by a mere fiat of his will, nor even by many of them. Imposition of good habits from without, though continued over a period ,of years, in the discipline, for example, of a boarding school,, may ultimately produce, not what is sought, but a reaction in the contrary direction. Good habits developed freely and from within cannot be the point we are inquir-ing after, primarily because they presuppose much good volition and action, .and the pivotal point is antecedent to these. Nor, to pass to the supernatural order, is grace as such the pivot. Grace could not help to explain natural good will:. Even in supernatural activity, it is not sanctify-ing grace, which of itself is not operative, but a habit in the order of b.elng, not of action. Nor can it be the infused virtues or the gifts-of the Holy Spirit; neither are these of themselves operative; to go into action, they need stimula-tion. In what sense actual grace may fulfill the function we are investigating, will be taken up later on. Prayer, that is, asking God for good will, cannot bethe pivotal point. If the request be granted, the question would remain by what means the good will is brought about. Realistic Appreciation of Values IV. The pivotal point does seem to be found in a realistic, sense or appreciation of values. Let us consider. Everything that is good has value, and therefore value here is understood to be any good. Good is, according to the classical division: the.pleasant, the useful, the proper. Val-ues may be high or low, and positive, like pleasure, or nega- 172 PIVOTAL POINT OF (~00D ~'ILL tive, like pain. Appreciation is the subjective or'personal response to the objective goods that we call values. To appi~eciate is, according to the dictionary, "to set a just value on; to esteem to the full worth of; to be fully sensi-ble of; to exercise a niceperception of worth." Good busi-ness people, like SisterMary Buyer, who has been chosen out.of many to make the purchases for the convent or hos-pital, presumably know how to discern values and prices, In art or literature a man is said to have appreciation if he recognizes or prizes what is beautiful. In general, a person has appreciation if he knows a good thing when he sees it. The wise man has been defined as he who knows true val-ues. Religious who properly evaluate the excellence of God and of His plan have appreciation. Realistic apprecia-tion equals .the reality, or at least approximates the reality, of the value. Appreciation, or evaluation, knowing good things as good, seems to be the vital link between the two spiritual facultieS. It involves knowledge of a certain kind, and thus it is intellectual; since complacency or some other indelib-erate movement of.will must follow the perception of. good or evil, it brings in the will also. In practise, the cultivation of appreciation of true or major values ri~quires the har-monious cooperation of both faculties. V. Among the reasons for placing the pivotal point of good will in a realistic sense or appraisal of values, we may notice the following. Common sense would seem to indicate that it is mo-tives that move the will. But what are motives, directly or indirectly, except values? If athing be of no value to one, why should one bother about it? Our own experience seems to teach the, same. If we consider carefully the best moments and the worst mo-ments in our past lives, and allow for all influences; internal- 173 G, A. ELLARD and external, can we give a better reason for our own inte-rior strength or weakness at such times than that just then our sense of values, our perception of what was really good, ~was most adequate and realistic or least so? A little observation of men shows how eagerly they react to what they value highly; to money, for example, or pleasure, or power, or honor. Salesmen and advertisers achieve their, purpose by inducing people to conceive, the highest possible idea of the worth of their merchandise. Everybody notices how much clerks will put up with from prospective buyers. Would the same persons be so com-plaisant if there were no immediate .gain in view? If it be necessary to, hold his job a man may rather easily bear with the caprices of his employer, ~though at home; with his wife and children, he acts like an 01d bear. Wars, in spite of all their evils, are fought for great economic or. political values. Suppose that, in the iight of experience and observa: tion of men, we. consider this hypothetical case. Let A be anybody who has great sums of money at his disposal. Let B be anybddy else. Let A ask B to do anything that is within the limits of reason. If A0 offer greater and greater amounts of money to B indefinitely, is it likely that B w~ill resist the attraction? Is it not to be expected thathe will yield~ and moreover like it? But money .is only the measure of .material values. That volition is a function Of appreciation or evalua-tion is also a finding of experimental psychology. This is the main practical contention in the works on the w.ill of the distinguished German ~lesuit psychologist, Lindwor-sky1. He specialized in0 the psychology~of~this faculty, and it is to him that I am mostly in~tebted for the ideas in this 1See especially The Training of the ~rill, translated by Steiner and Fitzpatrick (Brute. Mil~.'aukee) ; and The Ps~Icholog~t of Asceticism, translated by Heiring (Edwards: Eondotl). ~ " 174 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL paper. According to Lindworsky, experiments show that volition depends chiefly upon insight into values, without of course being determined by them. The will can embrace whatever appears to it to be of value, and it can become very strong if one feels sufficiently that the value is great enough. To move the will, values must be subjectively. experienced. Keeping a resolution is dependent, not so much upon the energy with which it was made, nor upon an inner general strength of will developed by particular exercises, as upon sufficient initial evaluation and especially upon the presence of it in the focus of consciousness at critical moments. "That the secret of influencing the will lies principally in this, to present the ~right motives at the right time, is no new discovery; . it was always the doctrine of the tradi-tional Scholastic psy, chology": so writes Hertling2, a con-temporary authority in ascetical theology. From modern American psychologists: "Forcing oneself to an early rising, and compelling oneself to run six times around the barn before breakfast, or to do some other useless and diffi-cult thing daily, will not bring the result sought for . Will training implies bringing sufficient motivation into play.''8 Philosophy teaches that the object of the will is good that is known. There are two elements expressed in the object and a third is implied. The first is goodness, real or apparent. Hence no one can expect to influence the will except by proposing some good to it. To do anything else would be like trying to make one see what has no color or to hear something that is not sounding. Knowledge is the second requisite, and it is just as necessary. If one had an opportunity to pick up a million dollars, but did not ~Hertling: Lehrbuch der Aszetlschen Theologie (Rauch, Innsbruck), p. 177. 8Goult and Howard: Outline of General Ps~lcholog~l, pp. 338-339. 175 G. A. ELLARD notice it, nothing would come of it. Thirdly, the good whichis presented and known, must be apprehended not merely as true or in any other way, but as good. Where there is no good or no perception of it, there can be no voli-tion. If the good be sufficiently great and seen with suf-ficient clarity, there can be no resistance to its-attraction, as happens with the Infinite Goodness and Beauty in the beatific vision. Hence, in general, the greater the good and .the clearer one's knowledge of it, the more likely the will's acceptance of it, and the more energetic and constant that acceptance will be: Sacred Scripture seeks to move men mostly by prom-ising good things and threatening evil things. But these are values, positive or negative. Christ Himself appears to have indicated what the will follows in such texts as these: "For where thy treasure is, there shall thy heart be also" (Matthew 6: 21). "For what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his soul? Or what shall a man give asaprice for his soul?" (Matthew 16: 26). "The kingdom of the heavens is like unto a treasure hid in the field, which a man findeth and covereth; and in his j6y he goeth and selleth.all that he hath and buyeth that field. Again, the .kingdom of the hea~'ens is like unto a merchant in search of. goodly pearls; and when he .hath found one pearl of great price, he goeth and selleth all that he hath and buyeth it" (Matthew 13: 44-46). A theological consideration: interior actual grace helps us to do good or avoid evil by enlightening the mind and inspiring the will. Psychologically Speaking, one would say that grace moves the will by enlightening the mind. The indeliberate inclination excited in the will corresponds to the ideas aroused in the intelligence. Light relative to a practical step can conceivably bear upon any or all of these three points: what is to be done, why it is to be done, and 176 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD '~rILL bow it is to be done. The firstalone would be quite insuf-ficient, and might well be deterrent, as when an unpleasant duty is indicated. To show why a thing is to be done: what is this but to manifest its motives or values, to reveal that it is becoming, profitable, necessary, and so on? In this way, by giving one a subjective appreciation, actual grace enters into the pivotal point of supernatural good will. It tends to correct that perversity which the prophet Isaias denounces: "Woe to you that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for dark-ness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter" (Isaias 5: 20). It gives one something of that gift of the Messias: "that he may know to refuse the evil, and to choose the good" (Isaias 7:. 15). In modern terms, it enables one to share in Christ's sense of value. The Church has incorporated into the Breviary4 a famous passage of St. Augustine in which he comments on the text: "No one can come to me, except the Father . draw him" (John 6: 44), and uses a quotation from Ver-gil: "If the poet could say, 'Each one's pleasure draws him,'5 not necessity but pleasure, not obligation, but delight, how much more strongly ought we to say that the man is drawn to Christ who is delighted with truth, delighted With beatitude, delighted with justice, delighted with everlasting life, all of which Christ is? . You show a green branch to a sheep and you draw it. Sweets are shown to a child, and he is drawn. Because he runs, he is drawn; he is drawn byloving; without injury to body he is drawn; with bonds of the heart he is drawn. If. earthly delights and pleasures revealed to lovers draw them; does not Christ, revealed by the Father, draw us? For what does the soul desire more strongly than the truth?''° 4Ember Wednesday after Pentecost; Lessons 7-9. 5Eclogues, II, 65. OTractatus 26 in doannem. 177 G. A. ELLARD It may be objected that we know enough or too much already. What we need is not more knowledge, but more willing. Sometimes that is true. But at other times, it may be asked; have we the right kind of knowledge, and enough of that kind? In ~any case, if a man cannot directly make a decision that he would like to make, what do you advise him to try? Have you anything better than that he should reconsider his motivation? Dynamic Knowledge VI. Now let us see if we can discern what kind of knowledge of ~;alues it is that, as it were, magnetizes the will. It is a certain, dynamic knowledge, found to be char-acterized more or less by the following attributes. First, it will present things under the right aspect, that is, it will propose things, not as true--the usual function of knowledge--but as good or evil, lovely or odious, beau-tiful or hideous, and so on. Such are the phases of things that it will bring out into relief. A quotation from the psychologist James will illus-trate what is meant by the right aspect. Consider "the case of an habitual drunkard under temptation. He has made a resolve to reform, but he is now solicited again by the bottle. His moral triumph orfailure lil~erally consists in his finding the right name for the case. If he says that it is a case of not wasting good liquor already poured out, or a case of not being churlish and unsociable when in the midst of friends, or a case of learning something at last about a brand of whiskey he never met before, or a case of celebrating a public holiday, or a case .of stimulating him-self to a more energetic resolve in favor of abstinence than any he has ever yet made, then he is lost. His choice of the wrong name seals his doom. But if, in spite of all the plausible good names with which his thirsty fancy so copi- 178 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL ously furnishes him, he unwaveringly clings to the truer bad name and apperceives the case as that of 'being a drunk-ard, being a drunkard, being a drunkard,' his feet are planted on the road to salvation. He saves himself by thinking rightly.''7 The right aspect is not enough. There must also be a certain quantitg in the knowledge. It must be sufficiently clear, evident, rich, and full. In fact, the closer it approaches equality to the reality, the better. This is a particularly important dement in the realism of dynamic appreciation. Hence, obscure, vague, or hazy conceptions of the most tremendous realities may remain inert and sterile. Moreover, personal rfference is vitally necessary. To see that a thing matters to another may leave me unaffected. I must see the vital importance of it for my own dear self. In the last analysis evaluations must be based on one's past experiences of pleasure, pain, or love. Through these gen-uine experiences present knowledge must be vitalized. A man, for example, who does not remember vividly how it feels to have his finger burned, is in no position to begin to imagine how it would feel to be consumed with raging fires in the infernal regions. If one should never have experi-enced the thrill of unselfish love, one could hardly under-stand God's absolute loveliness and make an act of divine charity. Nor could a man who ha~ never been aroused by created beauty react to the Uncreated Beauty. Personal reference is necessary in another sense also. Great things have many values or suggest many motives, some of them apt to appeal to one and others t6 another. Each one must discover those that evoke interest and response in himself and exploit them. One soul may love God as a father, another as a friend, and a third as a spouse. 7James: Talks to Teachers, pp. 187-188. 179 (3. A. ELLARD Two more marks of dynamic recognition of worth are iramediac~t and iraaqer~. Direct perception of an object is much more apt to stir one than knowledge that is only mediate, discursive, or abstract, because it is closer to the object and more like it. Hence .the weakness, from an affective and effective point of vie.w, of reasoning and argu-ments. Love at sight, even to infatuation, is said to occur at times; but nothing like it is possible when men and women know each other only through description or cor-respondence. A dreadful catastrophe may horrify one who sees it but leave.a reader little affected. To make up for lack of immediate knowledge when it cannot be had, the imagination must be used. The more vivid and realtand rich the imagery, the better. The human mind is depend-ent on the senses and the imagination. Hence, to get at the emotions and, through them, the will, fill the imagination. "Empathy," the ability "to feel-oneself into situations," for example, into the Gospel scenes, or into the conse-quences of one's choices, into the pleasures or pains that may follow them, can compensate to some extent for the deficiencies of indirect knowledge. Happily most of the moral and spiritual values may be contemplated in the concrete in persons who have real-ized them. The scale would range from Christ, the Blessed Virgin, and the Saints down to the humblest person who has Something to be admired and imitated. Actuatit~I of knowledge gives it power. It is of deci-sive importance that the motives be actually before con-sciousness at the critical moments when they are moit needed and least likely to be there. It is not enough that they be stored away in the recesses of the memory. Actual consciousness, for instance, of the ~ttractions of unchaste pleasure may win the battle against merely habitual aware-ness of the reasons for keeping chaste. The force of occa- 180 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD 'q~rlLL sions of sin illustrates well the characteristics of dynamic knowledge that we have been reviewing; the impression they produce is thoroughly realistic. Nooeln.I is also an aid, as it makes a greater appeal to the sensibilities. Hence, ~o keep a good idea from losing its motive power, consider it from new angles and find new beauties in it. Since choice is always comparative, a preference of one thing to another, superiority! of knowledge of one alterna-tive gives it an added chance of being taken. A slight value well known may be preferred to a much greater one less well known. In general, .other things being equal, that alternative will be chosen the values of which are better known or predominant in the focus of consciousness at the time. FinaliSt, a factor of knowledge that induces prefer-ential appreciation is found in the subject himself, namely. a certain s~tmpath~t, based on a natural or supernatural affinity: the "connaturality" discussed by St. Thomas in the Summas. The classical example, from Aristotle on, is the chaste man's knowledge of chastity as opposed to the theoretical ethician's. With respect to the Supreme or Absolute Value, that is, to God, this affinity is founded principally upon the essential relations of the creature to the Creator and of sonship to the Divine Father. Such seems to be the kind of knowledge that leads to willing and to action. It does not make one learned, and may be greater in the ignorant peasant than in a scholar or theologian. But if its object be divine values, it will help to make one wise and holy. If we could make our knowledge and estimation of eternal values equal to our appraisal of temporal things, our probation would be over. We cannot, to cite an 88umraa Tbeologic~, 2a, 2ae, q. 45, a. 2. 181 G. A. ELLARD instance, have an experimental knowledge of God in this life, though the mystics do lay claim to just that or some-thing like it, and in the light of it they conceive for God a love like that fierce, overwhelming, personal love which arises between man and woman. On the other hand, and to our misfortune, the false or minor values of material things do solicit us through precisely that form of knowl-edge which is thoroughly realistic and dynamic. There-fore it is all the more imperative for us to be mindfully aware of the advantages that sensible attractions have over spiritual, values, and in oposition to do whatever we can to compensate for the difference. Practical Corollaries VII. Suppose we consider separately the cases in which ¯ one wishes to influence a will at the moment and in the future, or what is about the same thing, making a resolu-tion now and endeavoring to secure its observance in the future. 1. To move the will now, and to charge it with power, get l~y all available means the maximum possible appreciation of the values or motives that are pertinent, and diminish as much as possible any antagonistic evalua-tion. ¯ First, it is important rightly to discern just what ought to be done, that is, in our case, what the law of God is or what He prefers. Missing this point, through impru-dence or scrupulosity or laxity, is not conducive to good will. But then focus attention, feeling, and effort on the advantages, gains, and reasons for so acting. Not u~bat ought to be done is to be stressed, but the u;h~/'s. Imitate the clever salesman who sells his wares by persuading the potential buyer that it is really to his own interest and profit to buy. Exhortation had better take this form than a tedious repetition of "Let us'es" or "Let us not's." Put 182 PIVOTAL" POINT OF GOOD WILL the accent, not on the rights of authority, but on the advantages to the subject in obeying; these include the values of obedience itself. Even if you urge that it is God's will, try to explain whg He wills it, what values He has in mind. With most persons, begin with a stron.g appeal to self-interest; then proceed to the nobler interests, such as God's; Christ's, souls'. Very especially in case something difficult or distressing be involved, for example, self-- abnegation, or love of the Cross, the greater the disagree-able feature, the greater must be the emphasis on the good aspects and results. This is a simple psychological neces-sity. Some who exhort to abnegation would seem to think the greater the evil, the more it will be welcomed. Mere negatives--"Dont's"--are never inspiring, and therefore negative resolutions should somehow be given a positive character and value, for instance,-by substitution or sub-limation. To acquire a dynamic sense of moral values two chief means are available; first, to learn what those means are; and secondly, by serioi~s reflection and prayer, to take their measure or realize their magnitude. What the values are is to be learned by study and reading or listening to sermons and conferences. We could not attempt to outline them here. But it may be sug-gested that the perfect man Would strive to know and will .the same values that. God Himself wills and to have a simi-lar appreciation of them. They are the Infinite Goodness Itself and the excellences of the divine cosmic plan, cul-minating in divine beatitude for an,gels and men, with immunity from all evil, for eternity. Included in that plan would be the sublime grandeurs of the Incarnation and of its effects in time and eternity. Next in order is to work up an adequate appreciation of these motives, justly to appraise them, to recognize their 183 G. A. ELLARD ' full worth, to feel their force and significance. This is ~o be done principally by serious reflection and prayer, or better, by both together, that is, by mental prayer. This is the great means and hence the supreme importance and efficacy of it in the spiritual life. St. Thomas has a whole article in the Summa to demonstrate that "contemplation or meditation is the cause of devotion.''9 In it he quotes these words from St. Augustine: "the act of the will arises from understanding." Without mental prayer, or something approaching it, one cannot expect much grasp of moral values: such is human nature. The senses and the world overwhelm one with their values, which are in possession. as it were, from the beginning. A counterbalancing per-ception of the worth of things divine does not come with faith nor without effort. The germ of it.is there, but it must be developed. The human spirit is immersed in mat-ter, and if it is to raise itself above material attractions and maintain itself upon that superior level, it-must exert its forces with an energy comparable to that of the powerful motors of the big clippers or flying-fortresses. This means in the beginning hard thinking and much of it, with ener-getic and sustained will-activity corresponding to the light won. In mental prayer.a vitalized and dynamic insight is gained into divine truths and values, the will reacts and responds at once, the appropriate affections are elicited, the consequences of possible courses of action are carefully weighed and felt in anticipation, the correct moral atti-tudes are assumed, practical resolutions are made and their execution rehearsed, many fervent petitions are made, and grace, coming in ever increasing measure, deepens and enhances the whole process. In a word, one is filled with that light, good will, and strength which are needed to ful-fil one's part in God's magnificent plan. 9Summa Theologica, 2a, 2ae, q. 83, a. 3. 184 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL If one cultivati~ m~ntal prayer well and sufficiently, he will also use all the other means to spiritual advancement and thus he will become perfect. If one be faithful in the lower degrees of mental prayer, he may be led on even to mystical contemplation, wherethe labor will be less, and the infused light, appreciation, and love may be incom-parably greater. Mostly in the intimate commerce of con-templation do the spouses of God come to their peculiar experience and all-absorbing love of Him. The funda-mental difference between a mere believer, a person of medi~ ocre virtue, and a saint, seems to be that, whereas they all assent to the same truths, the believer hardly does more, the mediocre person feels to some extent what they mean, and the saint truly realizes their significance. All the motives, general and particular, having been considered, they are to be assembled and associated together, so that one may recall the others, and then they are to be thrown into the scales against their false contraries, and proposed for acceptance to the will, with an inexorable "either. or!" 2. To aid in securing future execution of a resolution, four means in particular are effective: recollection, associa-tion, habituation, and experience. Recollection will tend tO prevent the light and warmth of one's vivid appreciation from vanishing into the dark-n~ ss. God and divine things are in themselves interesting, and if one's insight into them has been sufficient, interest in them will spontaneously spring up. Then without too much difficulty interest will direct attention; attention to divine values will keep them in the field of consciousness; and naturally the affections and will should follow. One should foresee as far as possible the occasions in which one's constancy will be put to the test, and deter-mine in advance by .what precise means one is going to 185 G. A. ELLARD react. "The modern psychology of will teaches that mere volition accomplishes nothing, unless a definite "way of behaving has been planned and practised.''1° Then the occa-sion, the resolution with its means, ~nd the motives, already organized among themselves, are to be associated together in thought as firmly as possible, so that when the occasion comes, it may recall into the focus of consciousness the reso-lution with its means, and this in turn the whole constella-tion of motives. Thus their cumulative force will be available, and successful action may be expected. To illustrate by'an example from Lindworsky: John notices that whenever he meets Charles on the way to work, he falls into uncharitable conversation. He adds to his gen-eral resolve not tofail against charity this means, that when he meets Charles again, he will promptly open a discussion of such or such a topic. Thus he links together all four: -the occasion, the r.esolution, the precise means, and the ¯ motives. 1~ All the procedures indicated in the preceding pages can be cultivated more and more until they become solid l~abits of virtue. Thus greater sureness, facility, and perfection in good are acquired. With every success in accomplishing what one desires, one actually feels and experiences to a certain extent the fruition of one's ideals and values, and thus one's appreciation of them becomes ever more realistic, and more like the divine or Christiike sense of what is of value. If with sufficient realism you. see that your treasure is ~n the Infinite Goodness of the Blessed Trinity and in the advantages of the divine plan, you will find your will there also. lOLindworsky: The P~cbolog~/ of Asceticism, p. 38. ~lbid.o p. 37. 186 Scruples Versus !:he Human Gerald Kelly~ S.3. THIS sketch concerns two characters, both of whom .are "| purely fictitious. Any resemblance to any person in real life.is a mere coincidence. One character is called Humanus, because he represents the ordinary conscientious human being, one who is.cheerfully content to be .~'like the rest of men," The other character is Scrupulosus, so-called because he typifies the victims of that gnawing and unfounded fear of sin known as scruples. ' For Scrupulosus, a supreme difficulty is to appreciate what may be called "the human way of acting." It is hard to.define this human way. It expresses itself in a quiet resignation to the fact that human problems cannot be solved with the exactness of mathematical problems. ~.It is an essential requisite for peace among men and for interior peace with God and oneself. Humanus takes this human way in full, easy stride. A reliable man tells him something; he believes it without struggle. True, the .man might be wrong, might be lying, using a mental reservation, or even deceiving himself. But Humanus does not tr6uble himself about these things, unless there is some reM evidence.to make him suspect them. When a man gives him money, Humanus does not bite it or ring it on a counter. He knows the possibility of counter-feit money; but he knows .too that social life demands that we practise a certain amount of trust in the good will of others. (Incidentally, the author once lived in a place where there must have been a great deal of. counterfeiting. Every time one paid for something in coins, a cautious clerk rang the coin on~the counter. It was most distressing.) . ¯ . Humanus follows the.same human way in his dealings with Go&and himself.God made him huma'n; God.ought GERALD KELLY to be content if he simply acts humanly. And he has enough troubles in life without suspecting himself unduly. Scrupulosus can follow the human way in his dealings with other men; but in those things which concern God and himself he is decidedly inhuman. He seems to thinl~ that, in dealing with God, he must have God's own unerring and penetrating vision of the human heart; that in dealing with himself none of the canons of human peace are applicable. Perhaps a few examples will make this clear. The Sacrament of Penance, truly a Sacrament of peace according .to our Lord's designs, affords no real peace to Scrupulosus. Definitely, it is a torture; a torture to go. a torture to stay away. And the reason for the torment, to put it simply, is that the reception of this Sacrament involves four elements---examination of conscience, con-fession, contrition, satisfaction--each of which can be fulfilled only :in a human way. Suppose we follow Humanus and Scrupulosus through an examination of conscience. Humanus says a few pre-liminary prayers, then looks into-his soul. This is riot a very strenuous process for him;in fact, it verges on sheer routine. Humanus is conscious of the fact that he could improve his method, but he also knows that he fulfills all the essentials. Mortal sins first; and it does not take him long to find :them. Heis no laxist. He knows a mortal sin when he sees one; but he. knows too that they are big enough to be seen with the naked eye. On some Com-mandments he does not even examine himself. Idolatry, murder, robbing banks--all such things are off his list. He would waste his time searching his soul for them. If he does find that he has sinned seriously, he notes the number of times; and if he cannot recall the number, he is content to add the saving word "about." If he is doubtful about the serious sinfulness of~anything--well--he is doubtful: 188 SCRUPLES VERSUS THE HUMAN '~AY There is no use wrestling with the doubt now; if he could not solve it before, he is less likely to solve it now. Venial sins? Humanus knows there were many little things, but it is often hard to cat~ilogue them. He selects two or three, and phrases them as best he can. Sometimes he numbers venial sins, sometimes he doesn't; and he" knows tha~ the number need not be confessed. Finally, Humanus makesan act Of contrition. In this, too, there is a trace of dry routine. Humanus has often resolved to "polish it up" a bit. Contrition never causes him worry; though it has at times puzzled him. However, he has solved the puzzle in the following manner. When a friend offends him and afterwards comes to him, holds out his hand and says he is sorry, Humanus takes the hand and forgives. He never looks to see if there are tears in the man's eyes. He does not stop before forgiving to ask: "Now, John, are you sure you're sorry? Can you swear you're sorry? Do you t:eel sorry? Maybe you're deceiving me, or yourself?" No, Humanus does none of these things; so he solved his puzzle about contrition by deciding that God doesn, t act that way, either. God is content with our just being human. Scrupulostis also examines his conscience! After lengthy preparatory prayers, he finally musters the courage to plunge into the .abysmal depths of his black soul. He goes after mortal sins with searchlight and microscope; and at the end of the search he is amazed that he hasn't found any. That cannot be right. There must be some; at least, there might be some some grim deed that his lax conscience is covering up. Further examination still fails to reveal a clear-cut mortal sin, but by this time he has managed to work up a doubt. Now, is he doubtful? He'd better con-. less it as certain, because if he only thinks he is doubtful and really is not doubtful he will be deceiving the priest. 189 GERALD KELLY As for venial sins, he must have scores of them. Missed morning prayers--distractions in the prayers he did say! He has been told that missing morning prayers is really no .sin, that there is no law of either God or man that says: You must pray in the morning. But be ought to pray in the morning. As for distractions, he has also been told that when involuntary they are not sins, and that even when voluntary they are merely small irreverences. But be ought not to get distracted; it is base ingratitude for him to neglect God in that manner. He'd better give the number of the distractions: 15--no, perhaps it was only 14. He cannot make up his mind, so he decides to say 15; in fact, he finally decides to give the whole background of the ghastly affair. And so on. It is time for him to go to confession. He is not ready, but he will try. Humanus makes his confession, returns to his pew and says his penance and a few prayers of devotion. The time passes very quietly. He leaves the church, full of peace and ready, as he has often.expressed it, "to be hit by a truck." In a general way, he knows that his .confession is not mechanically perfect. Sometimes be does not say things just as he had planned them; he becomes confused, dis-tracted, or even a bit embarrassed. Also--and he has this on the authority of adevout priest--he knows that the confessor may get distracted, or even nod a bit. But this percentage of error does not greatly concern Humanus. God Himself arranged that this Sacrament should be received and administered by human beings. The essentials are quite easy to fulfill; the accidentals allow both the priest and the penitent the opportunity to strive for greater perfectio.~l and increase in humility. It should: be evident from the story of his preparation that no great peace floods the soul of Scrupulosus as he emerges from the confessional. Nevertheless, he grits his 190 SCRUPI~S VERSUS THE HUMAN ~rAY teeth and kneels dowh to say his penance. Three .Hail Marys! He literally "tackles" the first one. But in the middle something goes wrong; he must have missed a word. He starts again, and then again; but he cannot satisfy himself that that Hail Mary is properly said. As he pauses'in desperation, the whole blurred story of the confession begins to unfold before his mind. Nothing was said right. The priest must have misunderstood him com-pletely. The fact that he got only three Hail Marys con-firms him in this fear; if the priest had understood him cor-rectly, he would have given him at least a Rosary. At this moment, a new source of interior torment opens up. Even if the confession had been good, the absolution could not be valid because he did not make a real: act of con-trition. He just went through some words. God must know that he was not really sorry. And his confessions have been that way for a long time; he'simply must make a gen-eral confession. He has made general confessions before without any subs.equent peace of soul, but this one will be different. We might take Holy Communion as another example of the difference between Humanus and Scrupulosus. It should be one of the supreme consolations of the Cath-olic's life. The essentials for its reception are very small: the state of grace, acquired by Sacramental absolution, if need be; and the keeping of.the fast from midnight. Humanus finds the fulfillment of these conditions simple enough. He is satisfied with normal, .human assur-ance that he is in the state of grace. If he doubts about a serious sin, he generally prefers to go to confession, but he knows he has no strict obligation to do so, and he is con-- tent on occasions merely to make an act of contrition and go to Communion. The fast presents him with no prob-lem at all. The law is a safeguard to the reverence due the 191 GERALD KELLY Blessed Sacrament. It forbids eating and drinking after midnight. Humanus knows what ordinary people look upon as eating and drinking, and he does not have to con-sult a chemist~ to find out just what is food. or a physiologist to discover precisely what is meant by eating. All these things are so many thorns for S~'rupulosus. How does he know he is in the state of grace? He can't prove it. He is not sure he can make an act of contrition, so he must always go to confession when in doubt. It may be that his confessor has assured him again and again that, in his present trial, he mayalways~go to Communion, no matter what his doubts, no matter how many sins he thinks he has committed. Even after this and though he knows that the Providence ofGod guides souls through superiors and confess.ors, yet his case is different, and the confessor does not really understand it. As for the fast, here is but one of Scrupulosus'.many hard experiences with it. He is on his way to Mass. His lips tickle. .He rubs his coat-sleeve over his mouth. A moment later he feels something strange in his mouth-- some lint from his coat, he thinks! He gathers all his salivary forces to remove it, but he is too late. He swallows. Well, that's the end. He has broken his fast, he may not go to Communion. This is his first conviction, but in church a gleam of saving common sense is still able to pierce the fog of fear and he does go to Holy Communion. Later the fear returns with a vengeance. He made a sacrilegious Communion. After that, one thing leads to another. He begins to notice a strange taste in his mouth every morning--the lint from the bedclothes! He tries again and again to remove it; but the consciousness of the lint remains, and with it the conviction that he may not receive Communion. There are two ways of solving this lint problem. One 192 SCRUPLES VERSUS THE HUMAN WAY way is to consult a trained theologic/n, wh~ might show Scrupulo~us by keen argumentation that lint is not food, or who might indicate that, even if. it were food, it was not taken "in the manner of food." This is a perfectly legiti-mate method of solving the problem, but hardly a satis-factory one for Scrupul0sus. It allows for too much quibbling, and, even when it does convince, its appeal is only to the intellect. Scrupulosug needs something that will impress his imagination and thus remove the emo-tional pressure of his fears. The second method is therefore a much better one for -Scrupulosus. It is a method suggested by an old and experienced diagnostician of his problem. It is very simple. "You take awoolly blanket, the woollier the bet-ter. Seize firmly in both hands, raise to the mouth with-out flinching, and bite hard. When you have a good bite, then you chew thoroughly and trot to swallow.'" This is a guaranteed cure. After one such experiment Scrupulosus needs no metaphysical discussion to be °con: vinced that human beings do not eat coats or blankets. In this matter, at least, he will be content with ?he human toad. No one-should gather from this brief sketch of Huma-nus and Scrupulosus that the latter does not wish to act as others do. His difficulty .is more subtle. Briefly put, it amounts to thi~: he cannot relax. 'He is like a sick man who fights an anesthetic; or, perhaps more accurately, he is like a man who will take the anesthetic, even if it kills him. So it is with Scrupulosus; at times he fights his fears, at other times he clenches his fists and says he will be human. Neither method will help him. He must relax under the pressure of his fear. This is not easy to do; yet it can be done if only one retains the power of laughing at oneself. For Scrupulosus, a sense of humor is more precious than the gift of tears. 193 Nint:s t:or Sacris!:ans Gerald Ellard, S.J. SACRISTANS for whom its cost or other considerations make Self-Lite Charcoal undesirable may readily secure the advantage of a large glowing surface with ordinary charcoal in the following way. After the unlighted charcoal ~has been placed in the censer, a little wood-alcohol is allowed to, drip on it and soak into it. It is then ignited, and, when the alcohol has burned away, the charcoal will be alight through and through and thus able, when fed with incense, to send up what is actually something like a pillar of smoke, a symbol of prayer visible to the entire congre-gation. The matter of securing the most suitable incense within the means of all is no small concern, and prompts one to mention a variety now being used with eminent satisfac-tion. Its cost is very low' but it is not on sale, as far as we know, in the church-goods houses. Trees of Syria exude a balm that is known in trade as. olibanum. This fragrant and gummy substance is widely used in varnish-making. It is graded in trade circles by the size of the lumps: egg (large) and tears (small). Tears of olibanum make an ideal incense.:~ Stocks available in this country may not.~ last much longer, but up to the present time wholesale drug dealers have had no difficulty in supplying it. The tears should not be powdered, as much of the fragrance would be lost, but burned as they come. In sacristies serving a large number of priests the prob-lem of quickly providing each priest with an alb of just the right length often proves formidable. A Chicago church 194 HINTS TO SACRISTANS where many Masses are the daily rule has at the edge of its alb-cabinet, at shoulder height, an unobtrusive measure indicating the number of inches from the floor. A priest has just to hold up an alb to the measure to see if it is the proper length for his use. It may no longer be news .to sacristans that candle~ burners in pyrex glass are now available in all candle sizes. In style they follow-not the older lamp-chimney shape, which "black out" tOO much of the candle flame and cause difficulties in lighting the candles, but the snug, dose-fitting sleeve pattern. The pyrex burners have all the advantages of the better type of metal burners, with the big additional one of beirig practically invisible. Sacristans shudder to see priests, in adjusting the man-iple, disregard the little tab provided for pinning, .and run the pin.into the precious fabric of the maniple itself. This is riot perverseness, but a measure of necess!ty (or rather, convenience), inasmuch as many of these little .tabs are too narrow to aliow one to run a pin crossways. Many new vestments now provide a shield-shape, or even semicircular, tab which affords ample room for pinning without being conspicuous. In repairing vestments sacristans might well provide such "pin-space." A strict law of the Church prescribes that the priest mix a "very small quantity;', of water with the wine to be consecrated at Mass. Most priests wish to take only a few drops of ,water; and sacristans can help them in this regard by filling the .water cruet almost to the top. When the cruet is pract.ica!ly full, it is easy to shake out a few drops. This is not so easy to do when the neck of the cruet is empty. 195 The Presumed Permission James E. Risk, S.J. THE philosophers tells us that what happens by chance happens rarely and cannot be foreseen. The Church, in her legislation, makes provision for many unusual situations that have arisen in the course of her past history, and may arise again. Hence she grants to all priests emer-gency faculties such as to absolve from censures, to assist at marriages and to perform other priestly functions. Fac-ulties of this kind are not granted to all priests save in cases of spirituhl emergency. Now, the most conscientious reli-gious, too, will find himself at times in an unforeseen situ-ation where permissions required by his vow of poverty or obedience are needed; where the delay necessarily in-volved in obtaining such permissions cannot be admitted. Unusual circumstances arisirig from the uncertainties of travel or health may, for example, produce a situation calling for the legitimate application of the principles gov-erning the presumed permission. Since actions based on presumed permissions should be the exceptioh in the normal life ofa religious, the older theologians took great care to limit their number to the minimum, lest a too liberal application of the-norms of presumption tend to obviate the necessity of asl~ing for many of the ordina~ry permissions. Sincere reflection and a normal exercise of foresight will lead a religious to limit the number of presumed permissions, while a ready ad-mission by superiors that unforeseen situations are, from time to time, inevitable, will prompt them to make allow-ances for the reasonable presumptions of their subjects. Though the question of presumed permissions is by no means limited to the field of religious poverty, it is chiefly from this angle that we shall endeavor to examine it. 196 THE ~RESUMED ~ERMISSION Various Kif~ds or: Permissions Progress in the exercise of religious poverty demands an accurate knowledge of the various kinds of permis-sions granted by superiors. By obtaining permission to acquire, dispose of, and use material things possessing some economic value such as books, money- and the like, the religious is faithful to the obligations freely accepted when he vowed poverty. He does not act in his own name nor as an independent proprietor, but as a poor man who has nothing that he can .truly call his own. Acting w~th-out permission in these matters, he violates his vow by committing what many moralists choose to call a "sin of proprietorship." They say that such a religious acts like a man who is bound by no vow of poverty and is independ-ent of any superior in the acquisition, use, or disposal of property. The commentators on the religious life usually speak of superiors as granting permissions; though in most communities there is generally appointed an assistant su-perior who is empowered to grant many of the ordinary permissions demanded by the obligations of the vow of poverty. Our purpose in examining the nature of the pre-sumed permission leads us to comment briefly on the other forms of permission employed by a religious in the observ-ance of his vow. This will serve to clear the ground for a more accurate understanding of the presumed permission. We spea~k of an express permission as one given by word of mouth or in writing, indicating unmistakably the mind of the superior. A tacit permission, as the very name implies, is p[udently considered as granted from the silence of the superior, who is aware of certain actions that are governed by poverty or obedience. The axiom "silence gives consent" may be reasonably applied when circum-stances are such that, if the superior objected, he would voice his disapproval. An implied permission is one that 197 JAMES E. R~sK is contained in another permission. The permission of a superior, for example, authorizing a /eligious to make a trip, implies the permission to use the funds necessary for traveling. A general permission may embrace many acts of the same or different species. In some religious commu-nities there prevails the practice of renewing each month general permissions in virtue of which a religious may ac-quire or dispose of objects of a very small economic value, such as articles of devotion and the like. The extent of such permission depends on-the constitutions, rules and customs Of the institute. A particular permission .is granted for an individual case. Such a permission, how-ever, if the superior so desired, might be extended not only to a singie occasion but to several occasions calling for the same permission. Thus, permission granted to an ailing religious to consult a specialist might be limited to a single visit or extended to several, according to the nature of the indisposition requiring attention. The Presumed Permission Authors who have treated of the obligations of the religious life agree that a religious is justified in presuming permission when, owing to some inconvenience in obtain-ing permission without delay, he prudently decides that if the superior in the present circumstances, were .asked for the same permission, he would readily grant it. Now be-fore proceeding further, let it be noted that there is one very substantial difference between the presumed permis-sion and. every other kind. All permissions save the pre-sumed permission have this note in common, namely, that they are expressions of the will of the superior who knows the wish of the subject and freely grants it. In doing so, he says, equivalently at least, "I grant you permission for this or that object." Yet when we examine the presumed per- 198 THE I~RESUMED PERMISSION mission, we find that the superior cannot say this for the simple reason that he is unaware of the subject's wish. This leads us to conclude that the presumed permission is, not a permission in the strict sense of the word, but it is a legitimate substitution; and the act resulting from a sin-cere presumption, whether it lies in the sphere of poverty or obedience, is quite in accord with the obligations arising from the religious vows. The religious is acting, not in his own name, but with a clear dependence on the will of the superior. To come more properly to an examination of the pre-sumed permission, the following points of division are suggested by the definition of the presumed permission given above. We must consider: I) On the part of thereligious who presumed: a) the inabitit~/ tO obtain permission in one its ordinarg forms, b) the motioes sufficient to justifg a presump-tion; c) a prudent conclusion. Z) On the part of the superior: the different~mental attitudes towards a presumed permission. Our first condition requisite for the legitimate pre-suming of a permission is the inability to obtain permis-sion in one of its ordinary forms because of the absence of the superior. The most circumspect religious may encoun-ter such a situation when both superior and assistant are .abse, nt or indisposed or so occupied as to permit no inter-ruption. If the proposed action of the religious is so urgent as to exclude a delay until such time as the superior may be contacted, permission may be presumed, supposing the .other conditions are fulfilled. In the second place sufficient motives, reducible to ne- 199 JAMES E. RISK cessity or utility, are required to make a presumpt.ion law-ful. Let us suppose that, while traveling, two sisters are caught in a heavy rainstorm that gives little hope of imme-diate abatement. An umbrella would be a very welcome addition to their equipment in the present predicament. To purchase an umbrella without delay may be instru-mental in protecting their health as. well as their clothing. In such straits it would be quite unnecessary to look for a telephone so as to obtain express permission to make this necessary purchase. The same religious now proceed to browse through a book store while waiting for a train. To their pleasant surprise a rare and very valuable book, much sought after by their superior, meets their eye. It is available at an extremely reduced rate. A real service would be rendered the convent by the immediate purchase of such a book. A situation such as this might even justify the conclusion that the permission to buy the book ought to be presumed. The prudent in.terpretation of the superior's mind, the third requisite for a valid presumption, must never be wanting. On this point, the commentators supply us with expressions that furnish a key to the solution of many a problem that in practice may arise when we wish to justify a presumed permission. They say: "_ . it is prudently judged that permission would be given if asked"; "Per-mission reasonably presumed is sometimes sufficient"; "To presume permission is to act conformably to the will of the $a p er" t "o't ; and so forth. "Prudent"l y" , reasonabl"y, and "conformably to the will of the superior" indicate that a well-founded judgment enters into the very character of the presumed permission. Resting on the basis of whim or hallucination, instead of prudence and reflection, the act of the presuming religious is not to be dignified by the title of a permission; it is rather a gratuitous-presumption or 200 THE PRESUMED PERMISSION the sin of proprietorship. The reasons tha~ justify the prudent judgment will at least approximate those which in ordinary circumstances influence the conscientious superior in consenting to the requests of his subjects. Such reasons will be reduced ulti-mately to necessity or utility in harmony with the norms of the particular religious institute of which both superior and subject are members. For each religious order or con-gregation professes a more or less definite standard in these matters, admitting, for example,, in the matter of poverty, the use of some things as necessary or useful, while exclud-ing others as superfluous or even detrimental to the. spirit-ual interests 6f the religious. With this in mind, the reli-gious about to presume a permission knows that the habit-ual attitude of the superior is to abide by these norms in granting permissions, that the object desired in the present emergency has been granted on other occasions by the same superior, that there is no reason that leads him to suspect that in the present situatioi~ the superior would act differ-ently. Thus, a religi6us says to himself, equivalently at least, "If, here and now; I should ask the superior to grant me this request, I am reasonably certain that he would readily grant it." He comes to this conclusion after hav-ing deliberated on his particular rule of life and the habit-ual inclination of ~i conscientious superior. The "if" clause just expressed is always at least implied in the legitim~te presumption. This explains why the presumed permission is sometimes called the conditioned permission. The per-mission that would involve the acceptance of gifts of an incon.sequential value can be much more readily presumed than the more costly kind. Needless to say, in practise the reasoning process re-quired for a presumed permission is far more quickly con-cluded than described. While walking through town, a 201 religious priest meets a crippled beggar, whom he knows to be sincere. He gives the poor man a few small coins on the presumption that his superior would not object. His own particular institute encourages devotion .to the poor and he has seen his superior, a conscientious religious, act in the same generous fashion. His presumption is reason-able; he has "conformed" his action to the .reasonably in-terpreted mind of the superior. I.s. a religious who has legitimately presumed a permis-sion, say in a matter governed by his vow of poverty, later obliged to notify the superior of his act?. The rule may call for such a manifestation in every case of a presumed permission. Supposing such a prescription does not exist, one would not be obliged to notify the superior of articles now consumed which'had been received b~r way of a legiti-mately presumed permission. Objects Of a more enduring nature, received in virtue of a presumed permission, should be made knov~n to the superior. A kind friend, for exam-ple, meets a' religious and invites him to take dinner with him. The religious accepts his friend's gracious invitation. Before parting, the same kind friend presents the religious with a very excellent volume. To what is the religious obliged in the case? We suppose, first of all, that his pre-sumptions in both cases are justified. If the rule of this religious obliges him to manifest all presumed permissions to the superior, his duty is clear. Without such a provision made by his rule, he would not be obliged to acquaint his superior with the fact that he had prudently presumed to take dinner with his friend. If he wishes to keep the vol-ume which he had lawfully presumed to accept, he would be obliged to approach the superior for permission. For while it was inconvenient to make contact with the supe-rior at the moment when he received the book, there should be no special inconvenience involved in asking for permis- 202 THE PRESUMED PERMISSION' sion on his beturn home. In other words, he can lawfully ¯ presume only as long as conditions justify it. Attitudes of Superior Having examined the conditions that warrant a pre-s. umed permission, let us now look briefly at the different attitudes with which a superior may view such presump-tions on the part ~of the subject. We may reduce them to three classes. 1) The first type of superior may be so disposed that he is ready enough, if asked, to grant the ordinary permis-sions, and does not object to the reasonable presuming of the same permissions. It is possible that he has. expressed himself on this point.To ex.emplify: a religious of the community of this superior knows that permission to sub-scribe to useful periodicals is readily granted. He knows too from his close acquaintance with the superior that there is no objection to presumed permissions in ordinary mat-ters. Such a religious, provided there be no insincerity on 'the point, .may presume to subscribe under the ordinary conditions. For he knows, in the language of the theo-logians, that his superior is opposed neither to. the sub-stance of the act (the~ subscription) nor to the mode or manner (by way of a presumed permission). 2) Another superior, perhaps .with a view of check-ing abuse in the matter of poverty, may be decidedly op-posed to his subjects' presuming permissions. So strong may be his attitude that, outside of cases of real emergency, he is prepared to veto the presumed permissions of his sub-jects. A presumed permission then, outside of extraordi-nary circumstances, would be tantamount to a violation of poverty or obedience as the case might be. To resume the example of subscription for periodicals. The superior in question is not opposed to the subscriptions to useful :peri- 203 JAMES E. RISK odicals. So strongly, however, is he opposed to presumed permissions, that he refuses to allow a subject to subscribe without first obtaining express permission. In this case he would object to the substance of the act (the act of subscribing') not because he failed to appreciate the cul-tural value of useful periodicals, but because he would be opposed to the toad/ir~ which such a subscription were made (i.e. by way of the presumed permission). 3) S~ill a third attitude might be evidenced towards the matter of presuming. Admitting the use of presumed permissions as sometimes justifiable, a superior may reveal his general attitude towards presumed permissions as one of reluctance and displeasure. Such a disposition, however, would not necessarily in'dicate his refusal to ratify a pre-sumption once made. The subject of this superior sub-scribes to a periodical and on the arrival of the first issue is reminded that the superior would gladly have granted the permission if asked. Has this religious violated poverty? He may have sinned venially because of the toay in which he obtained the subscription, that is, by presu~ming instead of asking. The substance of the act, namely, the mere sub-scribing, would not necessarily be'sinful, because the supe-rior would have gladly permitted it. Obedience too could be violated, if the religious deliberately acted against the expliCit order of the superior. To complete our consideration of the various attitudes which mayinfluence a superior in .these matters, this ques-tion may be proposed. Suppose that after a sincere and prudent presumption is made, it is totally repudiated by the superior? If, for example, a book were purchased in such circumstances, what could be done? Strictly. speak-ing, the superior might order the return of the book and reimbursement on the part of the proprietor of the book-store, if this were feasible. That would be for the superior 204 THE ~RESUMED PERMISSION to decide. The religious, who in good' faith erroneously estimated his superior's attitude, would in no wise be guilty of a violation of poverty. For in the case he sincerely inter-preted the mind of his superior and concluded that the con-ditions justified his transaction. Conclusion In conclusion, let .us remember that the presumed or interpretative permission, as some authors call it, has a defi-nite place in the life of an observant religious, but that p!ace is reserved for occasions when the ordinary methods to obtain permission cannot be observed. The conscien-tious religious, as we have already stated, will rarely fail to obtain whatever permis.sions are ordinarily necessary by the more express method of asking the superior. A habitual use of presumption can easily lead to laxity in the observ-ance of poverty so essential to a life in religion that is to be led with any degree of sincerity. What must never be. for-gotten is that cooperation is always necessary in the observ-ance of the vow of poverty: the superior should show him-self ready to grant any request in keeping with the particu-lar grade of poverty professed in hisinstitute, since it is not unknown for subjects to violate poverty rather than ap-proach a superio/Who has shown himself less gracious in the question of permissions. Subjects have been known to deliberately violate poverty, I say, not to mention the gratuitous or unnecessary presumption which is another name for the sin of proprietorship. The religious should be habitually disposed to express that dependence on supe-riors for the use of temporal things, not out of a spirit of servitude but out of a desire to imitate Him Who was hungry and Who had nowhere to lay His head. 205 ook Reviews PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIAN AND RELIGIOUS FERFECTION for the use of the Merlst Brothers of the Schools. Trensleted from the slx~h French edition; revised end enlercjed. Pp. 567. To be procured from the Marlst Brothers, St. Ann's Hermltege, Poughkeepsie, N.Y. $1.~0. Though this book was written for the Marist Brothers, it could be of great service to other religious as well. In fact, it would make an excellent manual of introduction or a good brief guidebook to the spiritual iife in general and particularly to the religious life. It might be used as a sort of text-book for young religious; it was designed to serve that purpose for the Marist novices. It ~s small, but rich in content; its form is that of. question a~ad answer; in presentation of its material, it is systematic, clear, and definite. From it one could get a well ordered and fairly comprehensive knowledge of the practice of the spiritual and religious life. The Introduction supplies general notions on the end of man, holiness, the religious state, and religious institutes. Part I is entitled "General Means of Christian Perfection," and deals with the desire for perfection, prayei, mental prayer, exercises of piety, conscience, Confession, Communion, direction, spiritual reading, the exercise of the presence of God, and various devotions. In Part II, "General Means of Perfection in the Religious Life," are treated religious vocal tion, the noviceship and religious profession, the vows, and the corre-sponding virtues. It closes with a chapter on "Regularity." Part III is concerned with the obstacles to Christian and religious perfection, and the fourth part is devoted to the virtues. To many of the answers "to the questions are added brief further explanations in smaller type. On many points of major importance select quota-tions from the Fathers and Doctors of the Church are givefi; in these the' influence of St. Francis de Sales and St. Alphonsus Liguori is noticeable. The m~iterial make-up, paper, print, and binding, are neat and attractive. A full table of contents, an analytical tab!e, and a good index make it easy to find what the book contains on any particular point.--G. A. ELLARD, S.,J. BLESSED ARETHEY THAT HUNGER. By the Reverend Richard Graef, C;.S.Sp. Trensleted by Sister Mary Hildegerd Windecker, M. A., Sister of the Blessed Sacrament for Indians end Colored People. 206 BOOK REVIEWS Pp. ~vli + 175. Frederick Pustet, Inc., New York, 1942. $2.00. Father Graef attempts in various ways to encourage the good Catholic in the practic.e of a strong and living faith. His main lines of argumentation are the following: A dynamic faith is necessary for personal sanctity; because sanctity demands self-renunciation, and this renunciation will not be made unless one sees clearly and power-fully the value of making it. Such evaluation is had only in the light of faith. Moreover, supernatural efficiency demands the work both of Christ and of the soul. The principal part of the soul's cooperation consists in genuine, earnest desire; and the source of such desire is faith. Finally, the apostolic influence that each soul is called upon to exert in the world, and thus the ultimate mastery of the world by apostolic souls, can be appreciated only when the world is viewed with the eyes of faith. The" author has made frequent and apt use of the Sacred Scrip-tures. Each of the main sections of the book is divided into numer-ous brief topics. The meditative reading of one or two of these topics might prove, helpful to those wlJo are accustomed to make their men-tal prayer in that way.--G. KELLY, S.,I. THE MASS OF BROTHER MICHEL. By Michael Ken÷. Pp. 307. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1942. $2.S0. Here is a new Catholic novel with an entirely different theme. The setting of the story is sixteenth-century France, a turbulent his-torical period for that country, owing to the threatening Surge of heresy. The spreading falsehoods of Calvin and Luther provide' a dramatic background for the lives of the de Guillemont family, about which the story is told. The interest centers in Michel de Guillemont, the elder son and heir. It is his story from his sincere, impetuous love of Louise to his final unyielding love of God and his Faith in the self-oblation of martyrdom. We share in the tragedy before his contemplated mar-riage that was partly due to the jealousy of his brother Paul and that led to his becoming a saintly religious. We are carried along from the injustice and cruelty of his father to ~he providential meeting with the und.erstanding Father Andr4. We sympathize with him in his deep suffering when the priesthood is denied him. Brother Michel's courageous acceptance of God's will and his intense love of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass keep the interest keen up to the power- 207 BOOK REVIEWS ful climax of his death. The subordinate characters of the least-resisting Paul, the unscru-pulous Anne; the bitter Louise, the heretic Armand, the lovable Father Andre, and others are well portrayed. The story is told with excel-lent description and good use of suspense. The tragic atmosphere is relieved by romance and clever humor. The one striking weakness is the characteristic trait of the modern novel: it leaves untold the retribution due to some charaCters. The Mass of Brother Michel shows the triumph of grace over .personal pain and loss, sin, and human frailty. The passages that deal with the spiritual consolation of the Mass, the reason for pain and suffering in this life, God's love for the sinner, and the courage coming to the soul through prayer are worth reading again and again. Priests, in particular, will find here many inspiring thoughts for practical use and may grow in their appreciation of the privilege of offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.---A. J. DEEMAN, S.J. FAST BY THE ROAD. By John Moody. Pp. xiv + 308. The MacM~llan C~rnpany, New Yorl~, 1941. $2.50. The Wall Street expert on investments and kindred subjects who occasioned not a little surprise a decade ago by embracing the Catholic Faith and reporting the event in the popular The Long Road Home has a new treat for his expanding reading public. The present vol-ume, to quote from the author's foreword, is "an attempt to explain in simple language or by illustration, certain teachings and view. points to be found within the Church which are often misunder-stood by non-Catholics. All this is merely incidental to the general purpose, which is primarily to tell of some of the experiences of one convert .during his first decade as a Catholic." Mr. Moody writes simply, entertainingly, and with precision on a wide variety of subjects connected with his Faith. In his chapters the hard-headed, efficient business man, with the help of God's grace, approaches the Truth. He turns back his cuffs and proceeds to defend it and, campaign for it with gusto. The chapters are topical for the most part, ranging with consider-able agility back and forth over some focal point of Catholicity by means of observation, analysis, chance discussion, and illustrative anecdote. Their cumulative effect is to deepen one's gratitu.de for the gift of Faith and to jolt one anew with the realization that most of 208 BOOK REVIEWS one's non-Catholic friends and neighbors are totally ignorant of or gr6ssly misunderstand the Catholic concept of supernatural life, and are usually indifferent to it. And Mr. Moody, so thoroughly at home in the Church after his ten years as a Catholic, writes with more than ordinary authority and perception of .the money-mad, speed-benumbed, materialistic American mentality. The book is recommended especially to those in search of reading matter never heavy or tiring yet providing food for serious thought --and prayer. The chapters m~y be read in any order, and any or all of them would be suitable for refectory reading.--C. DEMUTH, THE CATHOLIC REVIVAL IN ENGLAND. Pp. ix -I- 102. The MacMillan Company, MEDIEVAL HUMANISM. By the Reverend Pp. ix -!- 103. The MacMillan Company, By John J. O'Connor. New York, 1942. $1.00. Gerald G. Walsh, S.J. New York, 1942. $1.00. These books are respectively the third and fourth volumes in The Christendom Series. According to the announcement of the publishers, "this is a series of popular books on important topics in the history of Christendom, prepared under the auspices of the Con-fraternity of Christian Doctrine . The books are intended to provide informative reading for both Catholic and non-Catholic readers; for study clubs in the parochial units of~the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine: for study groups in the Newman Clubs: as collateral texts in colleges, normal schools, and senior high ~and preparatory schools.'~ Both books appear to measure up very well to the purpose of the series. Professor O'Connor's book gives a fine sweeping picture of that very important period in English life known as "The Catholic Revival," the story of the gradual breaking away from the tyranny of th~ penal laws to the winning of freedom and influence for Cath-olics. Father Walsh's book puts within the reach of the ordinarily intelligent reader with good educational background an illuminating study of the meaning of "Humanism" and of the development of Christian Humanism through the middle ages till it reached its high point in Dante. Bibliographical notes are appended to each book. Father Walsh has also included an abstract for study and review which should prove very helpful.~. KELLY, S.d. 209 Decisions o[ !:he Holy MEANS OF COMMUNICATING WITH THE HOLY SEE A communication from the Most Reverend Apostolic Delegate to the Most Reverend Ordinaries reads as follows:. "In order to remedy, the difficulties of correspondence with the Holy See, His Eminence the Cardinal Secretary of State has'directed me to inform the Diocesan and Religious Ordinaries and Superiors of this country'that in the present circumstances they may recur to the Holy See through this Apostolic Delegation, and so avail themselves of the facilities at our disposal. This office makes frequent use of radiograms, and also of the air-mails to Lisbon wblch, however, are not as regular as formerly. "Upon the receipt of the petitions of Religious for faculties and dispens,ations, this Delegation will communicate with the .Holy See by radiogram or by other channdls, according to the possibilities and the circumstances. When a response has been received from the Holy See, the relative rescript will be issued by this Delegation, in accord-ance with instructions already given or to be given in particular cases. "When requests are made for the renewal of a faculty, the orig-inal rescript should be presented with the petition for renewal. "The Holy. See hopes in this way to continue to correspond with the Religious !n this country and to furnish every assistance to them." 1942, March 21. At the request of many members of the Hier-archy, heads Of universities, and authorities in the world of science, among them members of the Pontifical Academy of Sciences, His Holiness Pope Pius XII proclaimed Saint Albert the Great to be the heavenly patron of natural sciences. The Most Reverend Martin Gillet, Master General of the Order of Preachers, read the Brief at a solemn meeting held in the Pontifical International Institute Ahgeli- CUmo 1941, November 18. The Sacred Congregation of Rites held a preparatory session in the cause of the Servant of God, Catherine Tekakwitha, Indian virgin, to discuss the heroicity of the virtues practised by her. 210 .uesffons and Answers !1. According +o our constitutions. +he members of our congregation pronoun~:e temporary vows for three years, +hen take. perpetual vows unless, for a very serious reason, a sister is obl;gecl by superior~ to renew her temporary vows for another period of three years. At the end of +ha+ time she must either pronounce perpetual vows or seek~ an inchlt from the S. Congregation of Religious for a fur+her ex+en-sion of temporary vows if she is not 1o return to the world. Recently this latter c~se occurred, but the rescript was delayed, "and the sister d~d not renew her temporary vows until twelve days after they had' expired. In this case, did +he sister cease +o be a member of +he congregation on the day on which her vows expired, and were her subsequent vows invalid? The sister would not cease to be a member of the congregation. by the mere fact that an interval of time elapsed between the expira-tion of the temporary vows and their renewal, unless the superior had positively ordered her to leave and to return to the world. As the case is presented, it is not clear whether or not the constitutions allow this appeal to the S. Congregation of Religious.

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

Part one of an interview with John Clementi. Topics include: Memories of John's father, Sandro Clementi. His father's work history and how he became an executive in the plastics business. His father's business contacts in Italy. How his father brought new designs to his company and how the company grew. His father owned a pool hall. John's memories of the family trips to Italy they would every summer when he was growing up. What Italy was like around 1960. Speaking Italian in the United States and in Italy. Italian dialects. John's thoughts on discrimination. John's experiences at Leominster High School and at Deerfield. How John went to Boston College Law School. John left litigation work and joined his father at Plastican. How he met his wife. What Latvia, his wife's homeland, is like. How John and his father divide tasks at Plastican. What sort of products the company makes. The ethnic diversity that exists within the company. ; 1 LINDA ROSENLUND:This is Linda [Rosenlund] with the Center for Italian Culture. Today we're with John Clementi, a [Plastican] located on Industrial Road in Leominster. And today is Thursday, December 13, 2001. John is the son of Sandro Clementi and brother of Anna Canlangelo. So, John, um, could you tell about, first of all, your father, your -- you were telling me before I turned the microphone on that he's really… JOHN CLEMENTI: Yeah. Um, he, um… you know, I think that people that know him, that have known him for any given amount of time would, um… what I think, would all agree that he's just a, an extremely talented, um, gifted person, uh, has the ability to, uh, look beyond the present. He, he, he has a remarkable gift for, for being able to predict trends the way that, that the world is heading. He has a wonderful knowledge of, uh, human nature, um, which is [unintelligible - 00:01:14]. And he – and he's just a very talented executive. I think he has, um, he possesses all of the skills that one would think of in terms of being a very, very effective, uh, executive. Um, and, and I, I think he, he's been able to… exhibit those skills in all sorts of different situations and venues. [Unintelligible - 00:01:34] remain a constant, at least in my experience, having worked with him over the course of the last, uh, 25 years or so. LINDA ROSENLUND:Growing up, was, was he the owner of the… JOHN CLEMENTI: Well, um, growing -- no, I think that he… Plastican really wasn't formed until, um, late '60s, early '70s. Uh, I remember my dad in various roles. I remember him as the proprietor of a, um… of a pool hall. Um, and, and going with him on Sunday mornings, uh, to go clean the pool hall up. I remember him, um, as a, um… as a foreman in a plastics factory, um, working at the [unintelligible - 00:02:21]. And, uh, him sort of coming home, um, eating dinner and then go work another job, so, you know. I 2 think I -- my first true recollections of my dad are probably in that capacity. I still remember the blue uniform and the, you know, the grease and the plastic chip. I mean, I was at an age, I think at that time, I was probably maybe four or five years old. And if he did, then I wasn't old enough to understand. I clearly remember is that, you know, he would come home briefly and back. It's still sort of a joke. At the time, the Mickey Mouse Club was the popular children's show. They came on at five o'clock. And if you would ask my father, to this day, Mickey Mouse, he sort of has this negative psychological reaction because it was sort of his signal that it was time to go to work to the other job. And so that's sort of the way I remember my dad coming home and spending with us, you know, a brief amount of time around dinner and then going back out to work another shift. LINDA ROSENLUND:Asking him how it was that he became involved with Plastican, and it's my memory that he was perhaps worked in sales? JOHN CLEMENTI: Yes. I think we need to kind of go back before Plastican. His first involvement with a proprietary company was with Yankee Plastics. And that would have been back, I think, in 1956. And I think that's where the story comes in about the real estate agent and being made aware of this particular company. It would be around the time that I was talking about earlier. He was working in a plastics company anyway. He was working at Star Manufacturing Company as a shift supervisor. And as such, he more or less had to know the ins and outs of operating the plow from -- I mean, even as a child, in those days, he was literally hands-on. He would come home, as I say, covered with grease and plastic dust in his hair and on his clothes and so forth. He knew intimately the details of running a plastics operation. 3 He was also fortunate, you know, I think he would tell you that he was, in that the owner of that company was an Italian himself. And his name was Nick Dimassa, D-I-M-A-S-S-A. And Nick had been in the United States for a long time. He was the kind of person who -- you know, he was a boy, he was a very elegant figure, you know, just sort of the [block] of white hair and always had a [unintelligible – 00:05:25]. He was a successful manufacturer back in those days and my dad worked for him. And my dad often tells me the story that… you know, I think Mr. Dimassa told him, you know, that instead of making money for him, for Mr. Dimassa, that at some point maybe… well, because he was too talented to work for other people. Then the opportunity arose with this company, Yankee Plastics, which was a small action molder or custom molder that manufactured the kinds of things that are really no longer manufactured in the United States anymore. And by that, I mean… LINDA ROSENLUND:Making that no longer made. JOHN CLEMENTI: Right. So… LINDA ROSENLUND:Like what? JOHN CLEMENTI: Like, you know trinkets and giveaway items—small, little things. And basically for other companies, for other people. It wasn't a proprietary line. It was a line of products that were manufactured for the others. And the product line, from what I could tell, at least at that time as a child, you know, seem to have evolved and that the things that he made were bigger. You know, [unintelligible - 00:06:32] larger. And that line seemed to evolve from the kinds of things that we were just talking about into things like pitchers. And the company evolved into a proprietary housewares manufacturer. And I think probably the turning point for that company, for Yankee Platsics, happened to… in the early '60s, that probably had emerged as a leader in 4 design, especially in plastic design. Because I think it's safe to say that plastics is an ersatz material, a substitute for something else—wood or net, or -- in a sort of view it's a surrogate, whereas in Italy, at the time, emerging from the war, plastics was a new material. It was different. It had a higher value to most people. And subsequently, extraordinarily talented designers in Italy were designing plastic housewares, and my dad saw that and realized that very mundane items were being designed to be extraordinarily beautiful, and brought some of those designs to the United States and began to manufacture them on a proprietary basis, and began selling them to companies that were at the time, you know, the equivalent of the big-box retailers that we know of now as K-Mart or Walmart. It would have been a Woolworths or WT Grant. And so he started manufacturing these products for those kinds of companies, and I think that's really where the company began to assume a different… LINDA ROSENLUND:Now, did he hire anyone from [ideas forward]? JOHN CLEMENTI: Well, it was interesting at the time. From around 1960 on, we would spend a good part of our summers in Italy. We would go back to the ancestral town, Corfinio, and the whole family would. And, you know, while we were there, my dad made business contacts in the north of Italy, Turin and Milan, where the plastics business was happening—not only just for Italy but for Europe, in a way. And he made contact with various designers, the most prominent of which was a house called Leonardo, and had some designs done for plastic housewares. And I mean mixer, decanter design, that was just kind of thing where, if you saw it today, it would be just as beautiful today as it was. You know, classic, modern design. And he picked up on that. And, you know, purchased some designs from that house and began to sell them, manufacture the products and sell them. 5 He didn't even know the process but continued, I think is… you know as we continue to maintain a relationship with Italy in terms of going there in the summer, I think he was probably more aware of what was going on in Europe, both by way of Danish and Swedish and Finnish. Right from the very start his proprietary line probably had an edge in terms of quality. I think he was probably… he was a leverage, I think, pretty much to the Hilton those days. But I think that what happened was, once these designs hit, they were just enormously successful. In fact, there was one item, I think if you ask him specifically, there was one item that really was all the [doctoring gamble], which item was sort of a revolutionary item. It was the decanter that now I think we all probably recognize, the one with the measuring lines on the outside and the flip top, little spout on the top, you know, where you take the soft lid and put it on top. And now it's an archaic item, but in those days I think it was a bit revolutionary in that it replaced, you know, the glass pitcher that lemonade would go in, for example. That, I think, was probably the item that provided most of the working capital to go ahead. I would say that was the most significant item. LINDA ROSENLUND:Ask for a design they have an idea of art and then they make contact with? JOHN CLEMENTI: Well, in those days there was a—and there still is, in fact—a national houseware show in Chicago. And I believe that they saw it in Chicago, because my dad would exhibit with everybody else. And I think they saw the item and liked it and tried it on, and it became wildly successful [unintelligible - 00:11:42] a springboard for other items. In fact, I think that was the first, and then the items from Italy that were really high fashion came later. So that, I think that was probably the item that really made the difference. And of course, you could -- the world thinks that 6 came from that. In other words, you had the decanter, now you make the tumblers that go with the decanter, and it sort of becomes a set, and off you go. And there are other sets then, you know, that… pitchers and tumblers, you need bowls, and so you make bowls. And then you need colanders. You know, all of that sort of houseware items that we've come to realize is sort of … you know, the staples of plastic housewares—laundry baskets, lace baskets, all of those things. The line eventually evolved and grew so that it went from things like small tumblers to wastebaskets and trash receptacles, big, 34-gallon trash receptacles. The company evolved, such that from, let's say, from, 1967 it went from a small custom molder to a full-blown housewares manufacturer with a proprietary line. There's a real difference. I mean, custom molder, you're a job shop working for other people. And then as a proprietary line, you are a brand name, and you are manufacturing for yourself. And I think that was a crucial revolution, really, as far as… LINDA ROSENLUND:After more… JOHN CLEMENT: Yeah, I think -- you know, in Leominster, where in those days there were scores of custom molders, custom molders being people who manufactured items for other companies. You know, I think everybody's dream was to have their own proprietary line because you could essentially control you own fate. And my dad was… you know, enough of a visionary to realize that even early on, and thus the importance of coming up with designs that were at the time, at least, you know, innovative and different and would provide an [entrée] in places like Woolworths, for example, that he might not otherwise ever be able to get into given the existence of companies like Rubbermaid at the time. So I think that was a big, a major factor in, you know, being successful going forward. 7 No. Mr. Dimassa was the owner and chief executive of the company called Star Manufacturing, and that's where my dad was a shift foreman, where he learned the art and science of plastics. And he left Star Manufacturing to purchase Yankee Plastics, which was not much more than a garage type operation, very small manufacturing plant with, you know, with not much in terms of sales and not much in terms of machines. But he left Star Manufacturing to buy Yankee Plastics with his life savings and start, you know, in the business as a proprietor. I heard them talk about it. And I heard my dad talk about it and… basically say, I think, with a lot of admiration, that my mother just -- my mother never ever reminded him of what he was doing and what the risks were involved and, you know, the potential downside. Basically, she was there to support him in whatever he felt he needed to do, and that she always basically had faith in what he was doing. She never had much doubt that it was going to be successful. Yes, yes, yes. LINDA ROSENLUND:… while he was at Star Manufacturing? JOHN CLEMENTI: I'm not sure of that, but I'm pretty sure, I'm pretty sure that he was doing both, yes. He was working two jobs at the time. LINDA ROSENLUND:I never really understood… JOHS CLEMENTI: Well, I think it's… again, I hate to speak for him in that regard, but I think it's because it was a [solicit] income that didn't require a tremendous amount of sophistication if terms of the language, in terms of, you know, business relationships, banks, regulatory agencies. You know? It's a pool hall. People put down money and play pool, and that's that. So it's fairly straightforward, easy kind of business to get into. That doesn't mean you're necessarily successful at it, but it's… you know, if I had to guess, I would think that was the reason. 8 LINDA ROSENLUND:Well, I don't want to put words into his mouth or your mouth either, but I can remember, when asking him about social clubs, he said, "Oh, no. I never belonged to a club," but I got the impression that the pool hall was… JOHN CLEMENTI: I don't know. I don't know about that. I think he probably met a lot of people that way that he might not have met otherwise. But I never had any impression from him that it was a social thing. To me, it was strictly, from what I could tell, a business thing. And it wasn't… again, from what I could tell, the clientele there was not… Italian. It wasn't Italian American. It was just at the pool hall in another town and, you know, in the early '50s. And my dad would always say that, you know, was unfortunate, but pool halls always did well when economies didn't do well. Because people were laid off and had time on their hands, you know, what do you do? And, you know, the pool hall is strictly, from what I could tell at least, an economic thing. LINDA ROSENLUND:At the pool hall, when he fought Yankee… JOHN CLEMENTI: I believe he did. You know, I'm pretty sure that he did. In fact, I think that it was before he did that, and it wasn't simultaneous in my recollection. LINDA ROSENLUND:Are there any differences in your whole life… JOHN CLEMENTI: Gee, you know, to tell you the truth, no. My life, my social life was more or less the same as it always was, which is substantially different from the way things are nowadays in a sense that, you know, people visited each other unannounced. You know, people would show, you know, the Italian talking about the Italian, relatives and friends and acquaintances. There was certain informality, you know? It was not unusual maybe a couple nights a week to have people show up at your house for coffee after dinner and talk, or in the summertime to show up and sit up on the porch or whatever. You know, and that continued 9 right on through. So to that extent, nothing really changed. My dad had been working a lot of hours anyway, so he continued to work a lot of hours. And really, our lives… you know, at least for a child, which is what I was, really didn't change. I mean, I think it's fair to say things, you know, things got moved. When I was in the second grade, we moved to another house that was newer and nicer. But substantially, not different from what it was before. So I can't say that life really changed at all at that time. Again, I didn't perceive that anything had changed. The big thing that would've convinced me as a child that we, you know, that we were doing well and that, you know, my dad was a successful person, was, you know, the trips that we would take to Italy in the summertime. Because at a certain point, I realized that not everybody went to Europe every summer. You know, as time went on I realized what a big deal that really was. LINDA ROSENLUND:Were you going to… JOHN CLEMENTI: At the beginning… I can't remember exactly. I don't think she was still living there, but we had -- we just had lots and lots of relatives there. And we have -- the ancestral home was there, and it's still there, the house that my dad grew up in. And at the time, there was sort of a ritual that happens with Italian immigrants from Central Italy and Southern Italy that have kind of gone on this, you know, sort of the… the exodus from Italy, especially in the post-war. They returned in the summertime, usually for the month of August. And it's a little known fact, but there are… tens, if not hundreds of thousands, of Italian immigrants in places like Australia, Argentina, Canada, huge number of Italian immigrants. France, Germany, Luxembourg, Belgium. And these people in the summertime returned to Italy because, among other things, it's vacation in Europe the whole month of August in Italy. No one works. It's a vacation month. 10 And people -- it's kind of a class reunion for everybody. And so, for example, I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that our little town of a 1,000 people becomes a town of maybe 3,000 people in August. And so this became sort of a ritual with our family that we would go back for the month of August and… you know, my dad would basically see the people he grew up with, his classmates, his friends, his relatives. And my mother too, because obviously my mother was brought up there as well. And so, you know, it sort of became, as I said, a ritual, or something that was expected. Of course, in the meantime, my dad was, you know, was also doing business, going to design houses, mold makers and talking to the people in the business in Italy who were sort of making it happen over there. And, you know, would build some tools in Italy, get some ideas et cetera. SPEKAER 1: Do you want me to stop this? JOHN CLEMENTI: Yeah. And as I say, for my dad it was business and pleasure, you know, well… nice for me because it afforded me a chance to see cities like Milan and spend some time in big cities whereas… you know, outside of the usual tourist traps, if you will, and get to visit, you know, some companies, and to see Italy as an economic entity as opposed to a tourist entity. And I have to say it was a significant education to me. Because among other things, it allowed me to keep the language, which, you know, was usually lost at some point. But that became I think a very important part of our lives, because for 10 years, I'd say from 1960 to 1970, I think we went every year. Yeah. And just last year my daughter, who is now a senior at Dartmouth, learned Italian and spent a term in Sienna. And we were able to visit her there and that was just a real joy. I was thrilled that she decided on her own that Italian was the language she wanted to learn. And so that was sort of gratifying. But we, 11 the family has been back to Italy, and… I think they enjoy very much and I think they're proud of that side of the family that it's of Italian heritage. I hope that they, you know, continue on and will… learn more about Italy and become more involved with the culture. But that's something they almost have to do on their own, simply because having married someone who is an Italian, it becomes a little bit more difficult. LINDA ROSENLUND:… recruit some of his friends in Italy that have come to America? JOHN CLEMENTI: No. I think… interesting, going back to Italy in those years… I never perceived an overwhelming desire on anybody's part at that time to come to America. Because I think by then, it was pretty much over. Italy was enjoying an economic boom. People were doing well. There was a migration in Italy. People from the south went to the north to work—places like Turin and Milan—to work for companies like Fiat, you know, Pirelli. You know, big companies. And so, there was very little impetus at that time for anybody to come to the United States. I think that was pretty much over. LINDA ROSENLUND:Now, when you… JOHN CLEMENTI: All the time. And it was, it was sort of a wakeup call, because when we first went to… Italy in 1960, it… it was a lot different from what it is today, in many ways. Our little village was primitive. There were maybe three automobiles. There were only a couple of television sets, and they belonged to fraternal organizations. There was no television before until eight o'clock in the evening. It was just so different from what we as Americans expected in terms of lifestyle. Most of the houses didn't have full indoor plumbing. Animals—horses, oxen—were used for transportation. People worked in the fields largely with their own physical labor. It was a very rudimentary agrarian 12 economy, much like what you would see in a third world country today. It would be unfair to call it a third world country because there were obviously other things going on in the big cities, et cetera. But for a ten-year-old child, it was a real eye opener. It was very exciting in many ways to be able to be stepping back in time. But by the same token, I realized that it was a life that was substantially harder than what I was used to. And the natural result of that was to think, "Boy, if we didn't come to the United States, this is the way we would be living now." LINDA ROSENLUND:… back to the village? JOHN CLEMENTI: Well, extraordinarily well. All of our relatives and friends were happy to see us. I mean, they really couldn't have done more for us. They were very lavish in their hospitality and would just about do anything for you to the point of almost being an embarrassment. And so to that extent it was just wonderful. For me, it was a lot of fun because, as I said before, at that time there was a language gap. I'd learned Italian before I learned English, but then I went to school, and, like most American kids, children of immigrants, you don't want to speak the language in public. And so the Italian, while you could understand it, you were always hesitant to speak it. And so when I got to Italy, if I wanted to communicate, I realized that I got to try to speak it as well. And… they had some fun with me and, you know, my brand, my version of the dialect that's spoken in our little village. But we got along well and we had a lot of fun, and it just sort of drew from there to the point where when I was in high school, going back -- I don't think that it was sort of like, "Oh, he's back again." And, you know, I knew everybody and they all knew me, and it was sort of like going to a summerhouse, like [unintelligible - 00:29:35] or something. It was, it became that kind of thing. 13 LINDA ROSENLUND:… dad must have spoken the dialect as well? JOHN CLEMENTI: Yes. LINDA ROSENLUND:So how did he communicate with the businessmen…? JOHN CLEMENTI: Oh, it's interesting, this whole notion of the dialect. I think you'll find, even in Italy today, that some sort of switch goes on and off when you enter the region or when you enter the village. You speak dialect, but when you're anywhere else you speak Italian. It's a phenomenon that I don't think exists here in the United States, where people speak both pure Italian and dialect. And this is true wherever you go. And I noticed this when we do business, as we still do today, with companies in Italy, especially up north. We communicate in Italian or in English, but I know that the people that I'm dealing with, the principals, they'll communicate with their employees in their dialect, which I absolutely don't understand. And if I communicated with my relatives with them present, they wouldn't understand me either. LINDA ROSENLUND:I thought that was more of a recent… JOHN CLEMENTI: I would think, and I hate to speak for Italians, but I think what they would tell you is that people who -- descendants of peasants, say, for a lack of a better term, when they would go to the big city, would speak relatively poor Italian, simply because they spent all their time speaking dialect. But they would know, they would know what they should be saying. And so as time has evolved and education became such that everybody is literate, everybody in Italy speaks the same language. But when they go home, they speak their dialect. And it's a really interesting phenomenon that I don't think as an American I would ever come close to understanding if I didn't go over there to see it firsthand, how someone could be extremely literate. Well, for example, I have a cousin who has written a book—actually, I think books—about classical history, Julius Cesar et 14 cetera. Extremely literate in Italian, and yet when he walks down to the piazza to talk with the guys, boom. He speaks dialect, and just as quickly can go in and out of that mode. So it's a phenomenon that I think still exists, probably to a lesser extent, because I think young people with mass media, watching television, listening to the radio, the Italian becomes modernized, and it is what it is. LINDA ROSENLUND:… now there find it difficult being [unintelligible - 00:32:44]? JOHN CLEMENTI: It's in central Italy. LINDA ROSENLUND:But did he found it difficult going to the north and being taken on seriously by the businessmen up there? JOHN CLEMENTI: You know, I don't think that occurred because… let's not forget, I mean, in the business world he was American. And it was an American company. And even though he spoke Italian, speaks Italian, knows the culture, you know, I think that's the way he was dealing. I think he was always taken very seriously. However, that doesn't discount the fact that there is a, to this day, a dichotomy between north and south. There is a certain… I don't know how to put it, but there's a definite culture clash between the north and the south of Italy. And the northerners view themselves as much more sophisticated, refined than the southerners. And as the southerners, you know, have a similar view of themselves compared to the northerners. In fact, there was actually a movement in the north of Italy to secede from the country. There were this movement, as recently as four or five years ago, for people from the Po Valley to create a country called Padania and secede from the country of Italy. And it doesn't look like it could be real, but I assure you, very real phenomenon. But that was there, and I think that's still there. But I don't think it ever affected my father's ability to do business there. 15 LINDA ROSENLUND:What about accent? JOHN CLEMENTI: You know, again, I think that America has been remarkably fair and welcoming to my father and people like my father. I've probably been -- you know, my father, and people like him who have accents that become self-conscious about it and so forth, I think my dad would tell you that he's been treated fairly, you know, by banks, local banks, who had faith in him early on. And I don't think he's ever forgotten that. I honestly believe that when it comes to discrimination, I think it's there, but I think that to be fair about it, I don't think it's ever been an impediment to me or to meet people, Italian Americans who have a certain sensibility, a certain sensitivity, you know, that it exists. I mean, you know, there will always be… you know, the untoward comment, the, you know, the references, you know, the mafia references that [unintelligible - 00:36:02] me personally. LINDA ROSENLUND:Not even at… JOHN CLEMENTI: Not even at Deerfield. In fact, particularly not at Deerfield. And that's one of the reasons why I personally love the place so much. Because, you know, I think everybody knows and everybody knew at the time, you know, Deerfield was sort of the quintessential Yankee. But the headmaster at the time, Mr. Boyden, Frank Boyden, who's sort of a giant in secondary education, he treated us all the same, and I never… certainly institutionalized from Deerfield. You would get a wise comment from a kid here or there, you know? I chucked out to the usual ignorance that you would find in a high school. I felt that Deerfield, to me, was crucial in my life. I think it was the single most important… Well, let's see. The ethos at Deerfield then and even now was, work hard, play hard. And a certain discipline at the place. By discipline I don't mean a military style discipline, but there was a 16 lot of work to do. It was hard. It was a real interaction between the faculty and the students. And I often tell people, we were as students probably respected by the faculty far more than we deserved. And the place sort or inculcated a sense of responsibility, a sense of giving back to the community. You know, a sense of [unintelligible - 00:37:50] your affairs in a courtly manner. You know, being mind and being understanding. You know, I don't think that was necessarily happening in high school for me. I think it just took my… just took who I was and sort of took me to another level, sort of challenged me, stretched me. I often feel I could've graduated from Deerfield and not gone to college, I'm not sure how much of a difference… It was mine. I mean, I was just going through my sophomore year. You have to realize, it was 1966, and the world was sort of getting to be a little topsy-turvy. You know, the drug culture had made [unintelligible – 00:38:38] in Leominster. And, you know, it was just a confused age. I was doing well in school, at least in terms of grades, but I didn't feel I was achieving very much. But I was probably doing well in a group of… really doing all that well. I thought I was just going through the motions, to tell you the truth, and I felt this sense of malaise about it that, you know, that hammer is going to fall here sometime. And you know, I don't like the way this… and, you know, I just started researching prep schools. I just thought I need to get out of here, down to Deerfield. There were kids that I'd gone to school with who had left and gone… More than anything, what happened was I went --when I was feeling this malaise, I just decided to go to the library and pull out catalogs, where I can get some catalogs. And, to tell the truth, they were very exciting. You know, [area in Dover], 17 Deerfield, you know, the idea that you could play sports on any level, you could study subjects that weren't necessarily offered in high school, and I think the idea of being away from home. I wasn't afraid of it because I've, you know, gone to Europe. It was kind of all of those things put together. I mean, my parents were a little bit taken aback, "Why do you want to leave? What's this all about?" But, you know, after going through the process, the tours and all of that, I think they kind of said okay, and so off we went. LINDA ROSENLUND:So you apparently knew… JOHN CLEMENTI: Yeah. But at time it was fairly clear that we could afford it. I think I knew that in my mind. After all, as I said before, we've been going to Italy now for, you know, at that time, seven, eight years, six, seven years. And so I didn't doubt that that was the case, so… LINDA ROSENLUND:… get the sense that your family was very successful and perhaps -- so [unintelligible - 00:40:58] the other students. JOHN CLEMENTI: [Unintelligible - 00:41:01] at Leominster High? I mean, I had that sense, you know, occasionally, but it really wasn't an overriding factor. I mean, I was pretty much of a happy camper in a way. I had a lot of friends, I loved sports. I was on teams with people. I never felt different, I never felt singled out, I never felt exceptional. It was really… as I said before, it was more a question of worrying about sliding down the slippery slope, if you will. Because, you know, I knew friends that, you know, one year were afraid to go to a dance and in the next year were dropping acid. So it became a kind of thing where I really felt that I wasn't going to progress hanging around. I thought I needed a change of venue. You know, I mean, the factual answer is yes. But I never -- it was important in a sense that they monitored my grades and spoke to my teachers and made sure 18 that I was doing what I ought to have been doing. But I think as time went on, as I got into high school, I think their ability to influence what was going on became less and less, simply because the issues I think became more and more complex. And, you know, they were dealing with them was less and less, simply because now instead of talking to a teacher, you have to talk to every one of these teachers and you need to have a better knowledge of what was going on. I think another thing that I've realized quite honestly is I think is the reverse of what you were asking. I was a sophomore in high school. I believe there was a switch for my philosophy of tracking students to a philosophy of open classrooms. And I have been attending school with same group of kids more or less since seventh grade. And as a sophomore, all of a sudden I realized I was in classes with kids that I'd never been in classes with before. And I think I came to the realization, and then I looked around and I thought it was me, and I thought, "Oh, I'm no longer in the top group. I'm now in the lesser group." But then I realized there were another two, three kids that I knew were very bright, that I knew were, you know, smart as anybody in the class, if not smarter, that were with me, but that there were classes where all the kids were bright. I don't know if this is true, but I surmised that if your parents were on the ball, if your parents knew what the score was in school, that they knew who the good teachers were. And along with the program, then you would be one of the guinea pigs in the open classroom. And this is sort of getting back to your question, "Why did you go to Deerfield?" I think what really set me off was an English class that I was in, in which… it was pretty clear that the class remain in the [gamut] from the brightest kids in the school to probably the least talented in the college curriculum. And the class 19 became a series of same kids putting up their hands, coming up with the answer, being ridiculed by the kids that didn't have the answer, who felt insecure and [badly]. And then what would happen is you would just realize this wasn't advancing the knowledge of the class. And so I thought: "If this is the way it's going to be, then it may be time for me to…" that was another; that was a pretty important fact that I neglected to mention, but… I felt badly for the teacher. Because what happened was she just started teaching to the mean. It all fell apart, in my opinion. [Laughter] SPEKAER 1: And I'm talking about… during high school. JOHN CLEMENTI: You know, I hate to speak for him, but wouldn't have surprised me if he did. I think he probably did. LINDA ROSENLUND:Did he push you for an education to go to college, or… JOHN CLEMENTI: Oh, I don't think he ever did. I don't think he ever expected me not to go to college. And by that time, having gone to Deerfield, you know, that was a totally different culture. And, you know, everybody was going to go to college. In fact, the game changed when I went to Deerfield. Another big reason why I went to Deerfield is in those days I really wanted to go to an Ivy League college. Go to on Ivy League college? Well, interestingly, my sophomore year in high school I was on the debate team, and we had a pretty good debating team in those days. And we went to [unintelligible - 00:46:37] which were up at Dartmouth and Hanover. And I remember to this day, because it was in February and it was classically Hanover, snowing all day long. But… I just, you know, I want to do it, this is where I want to go. You know, I want to go here. At that point, I think that kind of finalized the decision to leave Leominster, because my ability to get there would be seriously stained. And so, you know, I started applying to these other places, [unintelligible - 00:47:11] whole 20 thing evolved. My parents had interestingly -- it's funny, because I had a discussion with my dad about it. You know, my dad, his recollection is he sent me there. My recollection is I wanted to go there. Because really, we have no relationship to any of those kinds of schools. Back to funny story. When I… about that time, and it was in the winter, was in February, I think, I had applied to all these schools and I was now on my schedule. And my dad was still working, you know, hands-on. And I'll never forget, we had an interview at Phillips Andover Academy. And my dad was still, you know, he picked me up, he was still dressed in his work clothes. We went to Phillips, sitting in the admission's building. You know, there's old piano, old room, books, and a fireplace roaring. And it was really warm, and dad was just exhausted. And he just fell asleep. Officer was critiquing my [laughter]. And so, you know, that was kind of my recollection of that episode, which now I think is really funny and is really kind of -- but now I think about it, it's like, "Sure, he was tired. The guy was working really, really hard. He was exhausted." I mean, I dragged him out of the plant to come to this… I knew what was going on, you know, in those days. Not then, you know, they didn't know. They kind of got it from other people, it's the kind of deal was, you know, Philly, you know, that kind of thing. And I think in Deerfield they kind of started to get the idea, because Deerfield was the soul, it really still is. It's just, you know, [unintelligible - 00:49:12]. And don't forget, it was 1966. You know, [GI dye] shirts, long hair, the whole bit. Boom, Deerfield, you know? Coats and ties, suits, you know? You think they were kind of blown away by that. I think they thought to themselves, "This is the best thing that ever happened." You know? My mother tells me now that it broke her heart when I left. 21 LINDA ROSENLUND:What were parents' weekends like or parents'…? JOHN CLEMENTI: It was… it was fine. You have to realize, going back, in a way. And so, you know, I think that kind of went away. There's a kid growing up and that's why I see these Hispanic people working here a lot, and I really emphasize. I know what it's like. You know, they want the same things we want. We all want the same things. But Deerfield was… my parents, I think they're very proud of Deerfield. They… it's something I wish they had, gone to public schools, but quite frankly, I just… in this day and age I just never felt… I just didn't feel that public schools were living up to -- I went to Bancroft school in Worcester, and then they went to Deerfield. My girls went to Deerfield and my son is at Deer- -- I have a long Deerfield tradition. LINDA ROSENLUND:You keep the tradition? JOHN CLEMENTI: But I can get them to go elsewhere but they keep following me. So [unintelligible - 00:51:06] letters at Dartmouth. I have senior and freshmen, both of whom went to Deerfield. They've had wonderful careers. Now I have a son, Alex is a freshmen at Deerfield, and… yeah, I think when I went it was $3,700 a year. It really is. It's a… LINDA ROSENLUND:Follow up with you a little bit, then you decided to pursue a law degree? JOHN CLEMENTI: Yeah, I went to law school. You know, it's something I wanted to do from when I was in high school, really. And you know, it was… I went to Boston College Law School. But, you know, I had to decide what I wanted to do—did I want to go to a big city and, you know, could I come back here. I'd been interning here for this firm that I eventually joined. And they liked me and I liked them, and so when it came to, you know, the time to figure out what I wanted to do for a living, I'd lived in Boston at that time for three years. And that was great, but I -- there was a 22 chance to, you know, make an impact going back to my hometown and going to a small town all the time. You know, all the time. And, you know, I think it was just… have a guaranteed job in the city and all that stuff. I thought that that's what I wanted to do. So I joined the law firm and… I enjoyed it and had fun. I liked the people a lot and I liked the law a lot. And it was really a joy with people I met in the law. And at the time I was doing mostly litigation. I was mostly in court doing mostly criminal work. And… that was fun. But at a certain point I realized that's not what I really wanted to do for the rest of my life. And just about at the same time I came to that conclusion, this company, Plastican had been formed and had been a going concern for about… seven or eight years. And… we had a plant; you know, in Leominster, about 70,000 square foot plant, and there was potential to get it bigger and to do other things. But my dad, at that point the jobs and so forth became much more specific in a point became this, "Listen, there's a lot to do here. There's a lot of potential here, but I'm at the age where I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to go [unintelligible - 00:53:56] all over the United States to do what we need to do." And so, I thought about it and realized that it was exciting, it was a lot of upside potential, and so I left the law and joined the company, and in sort of a COO, beneath my father. And the first task at hand was to set up some sort of a operation in the west, and so I went out and scouted the west and decided upon Dallas. And we… at the warehouse operation there we built a plant, begin to manufacture product there, and established a plant in Dallas in Texas. That was in 1978. And off we went. And then, a few years later, we realized that we had a plant in the east, a plant in the west, but there was a lot of business in the southeast. Florida 23 was a growing state. Georgia, the Carolinas. We really needed a place, a plant there. And so I, you know, we did the same thing, and I went down to and scouted the Southeast and came upon Macon, Georgia after much research and lots of trips to Georgia. In the meantime we add it on to the plant in Dallas, and since add it on to the plant in Macon. And then three years ago we built, we purchased a plant in Phoenix, Arizona, and so now we have a plant in Arizona. As for the Plastican side, we have four plants, and we're selling people coast to coast, so to speak. LINDA ROSENLUND:Now, you get an experience with the plastic industry? JOHN CLEMENTI: Oh, yeah. You know, in high school was the summer job, you know, was… you know, before it was time to go to Italy, in June, July, we worked in the plant, and so… but it was all about in terms of how it works and what you do. I had experience with that. I was here all the time in the summer, so I knew everybody and I knew everything that was going on. Well, you know, that's interesting. Yes, because I did have a part time job after school working at a local accountant's kind of doing arithmet- that was sort of after school from, like, 2:30 to 5:00. So I guess the answer is yes. I don't know how that happened, but I did have a part-time job, yeah. I think it was just the winter, because I didn't play any sports in the winter. LINDA ROSENLUND:… that you were [soft]? JOHN CLEMENTI: No. To be honest with you, I don't remember. I think I probably wanted the money. You know, in high school you could use a little more money. Yeah, I played baseball. It's the sport I cared about most. And I played football too. And that was another reason actually that I went to Deerfield, because Deerfield had great baseball, got my hand at another level. And so that was another impetus. 24 I think they just assumed that that's what kids do. It's interesting because… my parents never saw me play. You know, my dad was always working and my mother, you know, didn't really care, which was fine with me. And… it's another story. My dad saw me play the last game I ever played on the parents' weekend, right before graduation. And it was interesting, because he… you know, he was sitting in the stands and so forth and so on. And… so, we played the game and that was at that. After the game he said to me, "You know, I was talking to this really nice man in the stands, and he said that he thought you were a pretty good player." "Well, that's nice," I said. He said, "Well, you know, it's interesting. His name was DiMaggio." Well, it wasn't Joe DiMaggio, and I don't know if he was related to him. As it turns out, it was Dom DiMaggio, who played for the Red Sox, played centerfield for the Red Sox, and his son Paul was in my class. And, you know, it was kind of funny that, you know, Dom DiMaggio tells my father that kid's pretty good. Who's that kid? And he says, "That's my kid." And it was the only game he ever saw me play. And to this day, I have this sort of… conflict, you know, when I see, you know, soccer moms and little league parents and so forth. I think myself, all the fun I had playing, my parents weren't there. And I'm thinking, "You know, maybe I had a lot of fun because they weren't there." And I didn't have to do anything for anybody, you know? You know, I played, and whatever would happen, happened. And inevitably I had fun, and that was at the end of it. You know, I didn't have any dad telling me what I should have done or mom screaming at me for doing something or -- you know, it was kind of -- I left it there. So when I talk to parents now about that whole thing, you know, who feel compelled to see every single game, the every single practice. And I personally don't feel that way; I just don't 25 feel that way. I go to watch my kid play football, but, you know, if I don't go I don't feel it as a big deal. I don't have to do it. You know, that's another story. And so, the Dom DiMaggio thing was really, was a fun thing, to this day. LINDA ROSENLUND:Did you ever feel like you could go beyond? JOHN CLEMENTI: As I got older I realized how far I was away from going on. At Deerfield I played with guys that went to the major leagues. And, you know, I realized what the difference is. There's a difference, you know? [Laughter] LINDA ROSENLUND:… like who? Who played in the major league? JOHN CLEMENTI: Well, there's a guy who's now the coach at Brandeis, a guy named Pete Varney who's a footnote in history because he was the fellow that caught the famous pass in the Harvard-Yale game, 29-29 tie with the… the headline in the school paper was: "Harvard defeats Yale: 29-29." They scored I think, 26 points in, like, three minutes to tie the game, and he caught the extra point that tied the game with no time left on the clock. So Pete Varney was a footnote in history. But he played for the Chicago Red Sox and, you know, he's a big, strapping guy that could really hit. And the, [Ralph Teiner], the announcer of the [unintelligible – 01:00:45] for the Giants was at Deerfield. You know, just the slew of kids. A kid named Willie Roberts who played for the Houston Oilers and footballer Gary Bonner who said, "All the Russian records are…" you know, you can tell. I mean, there's a difference. I wasn't a very good athlete. I was a good player because I really liked the game and I knew how to play it, but I didn't have the ability to become [laughter]. I wish I did, but I didn't. LINDA ROSENLUND:And getting back, we talked about this just a little bit before I turned the recorder on.26 JOHN CLEMENTI: Oh, well. I mean, I ask the same question you were asking me. Because their kids, you know, they were… people from our village, from Corfinio, that are living here in Leominster who gave their children Italian names—Sandro, Pulino, Vega, Rosana—I mean, real Italian names, which are lovely and I love -- you know, I love them. And I said, "You know what's this, John? Why not Giovanni?" And dad and mother both said, "No! We named you John on purpose so you wouldn't get stuck with one of those names." Kind of interesting that they were thinking that way. To me it was kind of surprising that they were thinking that, because, you know, I think about it now, my dad was 22 and my mom was 21. It took a little bit of thinking, you know? No, I was born… LINDA ROSENLUND:But coming in, I thought you were born in Italy. JOHN CLEMENTI: Well, that's kind of interesting the way life works too, because she is very similar to me in the sense that her parents immigrated at just about the same time. And they were born in Latvia and were displaced people because they were invaded by the Russians, and then by the Germans. And they were taken to war camps in Germany. And her parents met in the war camp in Germany. All of these people who were displaced people were given the option of returning to their homeland or [remain there]. And because Latvia had been occupied by the Soviet Union, by the Russians, the word had gotten out as to what life was like on the other side. They decided not to go back to Latvia, and I guess were able to immigrate to the United States through the auspices of a church group, essentially as refugees, but even more so. So my wife was born in Germany. They didn't emigrate until… they immigrated though. It's interesting, you know, marrying a Mediterranean, marrying a [unintelligible - 01:03:52], 27 essentially in Nordic culture. But I think the common bind, you know, bound, being bound together by the immigrant thing, we understand a lot of the same things. You know, the bit about all of that stuff. All of the things, the feeling awkward, the sharing understanding of those things. Grew up in New Jersey. And it's really funny, you know, I've… her dad was a very successful contractor. And… she and her siblings all went to private schools. She went to private school. It was sort of like the same thing. The same thing happened, you know. You think you're unique and you realize you're far from it. LINDA ROSENLUND:How did you meet her? JOHN CLEMENTI: Blind date. Blind date. It was the Feast of St. Anthony in the North End. And law school at the time and a friend of mine who was living in Boston who said, "J, you know, my girlfriend has a friend, you know, up from New Jersey," and, you know, "would you like to go out with her?" "Sure, why not?" In those days, and I guess still today, every week in the summer there's some feast or another, and I go up there. It was a bit of a happening, and so… we had a blind date, and that was that. LINDA ROSENLUND:[Unintelligible – 01:05:29] JOHN CLEMENTI: Yes, it's really… I think back now, and it really is. Because you know, immigration, from Western Europe was over for the most part, by then. You know, there were very few immigrants that came to this country, you know, much after, 1948, '49. I meant, from Western Europe. I mean, they came from other places, from South America and Asia, Africa, but not many from Western Europe. So, it was -- yeah, it was… I think so. Yeah, definitely. You know, I guess, of the heart, it doesn't work that way. [Laughter] LINDA ROSENLUND:And a different religion. 28 JOHN CLEMENTI: Yes, she's a Lutheran. Yeah, I think it… my parents were remarkably disciplined in bearing, in that regard. And so were hers. They were both smart enough to know that, you know, if this has been what's… you know, go along and let's respect the choices and… you know. You know, it's been fine. It's really interesting. They feel both. As I say, my oldest one speaks Italian. My middle one really looks Italian. And my little guy, you know, I think he's at that age where, you know, he doesn't really feel -- but, we went to Latvia last summer, visited Latvia for a week. And it was great because I wanted to go, I wanted to see one of these former Soviet countries and see what life is like there. But it was good for them to see where their grandparents came from and, you know, to really get -- when I say, you know, they've been to both places and I think it's fair to say they feel a real affinity for both places. It really was… the impression you come away with is that it's a country that's really trying hard. Very interesting. You see construction cranes everywhere in the capital city, which is Riga. And very interesting phenomenon there. The country is divided in half ethnically. Half of them are ethnic Russians and half of them are ethnic Latvians. Who are, the Latvians are basically Teutonic in what they are, you know? They're very Germanic. And the Russians are Russian. And there's a real split there. And there's a great deal of resentment left over from the Soviet occupation. And there's resentment both ways. And the leadership of the country is very interesting, because when the country was liberated, children of immigrants -- and immigrants could come back as citizens. And so the prime minister of Latvia is a Canadian woman. And all of the signs in Latvia are written in three languages: Latvian first, English second, and Russians are not too thrilled about that. But the Latvians understand that, 29 you know, English is the -- it's really interesting. I mean, it's just, watching the country develop. You know, the average income there is, like, $250 a month, you know? They email some in Latvia. They're fully aware of everything that's going on in our culture, movies, CNN. Kind of, like… community is in sort of a weak fog, everything that's happened in the last 20 years up an away, and kind of bringing the country into the modern period without having to go through all the baggage of what has gone before. So, it's a real eye opener because all of the vestiges of Soviet domination are still there. I mean, these horribly snotty apartment buildings that are so depressing. You know, it's depressing architecture. And on the other side, avant-garde, hard music. It's a country that is leaping, you know, just jumping right out of the '40s into the, you know, the 2000s without anything in between. And it's happening. LINDA ROSENLUND:Are you hoping to do business…? JOHN CLEMENTI: Honestly, we don't export much of our products, so I never really thought -- on a personal level, no. I think it's just the… it's interesting. You fly through Frankfurt, boom. You know? Connect to Riga. Yeah, it's only an hour. Then from Riga we went to Stockholm, Sweden, which is only an hour. And there's a flight to Estonia. LINDA ROSENLUND:From Stockholm? JOHN CLEMENTI: Mm-hmm. Probably. We were in Stockholm this summer ourselves, we were in June, been there in June. LINDA ROSENLUND:Is there actually, by Stockholm, it was the… JOHN CLEMENTI: Yes, I was surprised. I don't know why I was surprised, but Stockholm just impressed me massively. It's a really beautiful, beautiful city, very impressive. You know, they have that magnificent park across the bridge, really impressive to me. LINDA ROSENLUND:… all of a sudden they've been able to…30 JOHN CLEMENTI: Infiltrate [laughter]. You know, that's a funny kind of situation. By the time that I became a member of the club, I think there was no longer any need to infiltrate. I think that that had changed completely. I remember a very dear friend of mine who was a member at the time—I was a lot younger—asking me if I wanted to be a member. Really hadn't given it much thought, and I said no. And since I've spoken to Jewish people, it was a real thing there. You know, there was, there were clear notions of the time when a Jewish person couldn't be a member. And I think some of those people sort of said, "Well, you know, that was then. This is now." So, you know, to me, I kind of view it as a… doesn't have nearly as social significance it might have had 20 years ago, or 25 years ago, when it really [unintelligible - 01:12:13]. It's no longer relevant to me. I don't think it's any longer a symbol of anything. I don't think so. LINDA ROSENLUND:No? JOHN CLEMENTI: No, I really don't. No. I think those days are long gone, honestly. You know, they may exist somewhere, you know? In the South, or you know, New York. Maybe it's important what club do you belong, but I don't think it's important at all. SPEKAER 1: … product these days at Plastican? JOHN CLEMENTI: Five-gallon bucket is and always has been the most important product. It's the workhorse of the rigid packaging industry. You know, we package everything from swimming pool chlorine, driveway sealer, paint, driveway, drywall compound, detergents, industrial chemicals, you name it. And back then it's five-gallon buckets. So it's a staple item. Lots of them, but that's the good news. The bad news is there are lots of us doing it, and so it's a very competitive business. You know, technology has always been an important part of what we do, and so…we try to keep on the cutting edge in terms 31 of technology. And only can make them quickly but also to make them well, so that the quality of the product is consistent over time. Packaging products get transported vast distances, and so it's important that the seal is really good and that the product is real good. We purchase recycled resins, and so we manufacture product out of recycled plastic, reclaim containers from customers that want us to so that we can assist in closing the circle. We have a very interesting product, which is the curbside recycling bin, the blue boxes you see on the side of the road. We manufacture those as well, and we manufacture those for the state of Massachusetts. And what we do there is we use recycled resin to manufacture the recycling bins, and so it's kind of -- well, I don't know. The way we kind of divided the tasks in the end, I basically run the day-to-day operations. I'm [unintelligible - 01:14:42] marketing personnel, human resources, purchasing, for the most part, the day-to-day operations of things. My dad, on the other hand, is concerned with things like capital purchases, big machines, molds. And he purchases raw material, resins. You know, the raw material. That's kind of the way we divide things. So, you know, the day-in-day-out headaches are mine. And [unintelligible - 01:15:19] aspect is his. That way, you know, we're constantly talking, so it's… we're always engaged in a dialogue about how we should do this how we should do that. And when one of us is on vacation or away, obviously the other takes up the slack. You know, I think it will continue to be more competitive going forward, you know? With globalization and consolidation, there are fewer and fewer companies to sell to. And this is an issue, that more and more purchasing power. And so the only alternative is to become more and more competitive. So… you know, I will be focusing our efforts on ways in which 32 we can make the company more competitive and more user-friendly to the buyers. One of the things about consolidation is with the added mass these companies are adding, what they do is they expect their vendors to provide more and more by way of service. Whereas you might have had good quality and good price, I think going forward that might not be enough. We have some products for the swimming pool industry in particular that are really innovative. "How I get these darn things off?" And with consumers [unintelligible - 01:16:50] is that you have to make sure that they don't come off. And so if you run into a conflict -- but we think we designed some products that make it easier to take the lid off and put it back on while making sure that nothing leaks in the meantime. So that's where -- I think that's the most exciting item that we're introducing. For those who have a one-gallon paint can, that has revolutionized things as well. LINDA ROSENLUND:Packaging? I mean, do you do everything on…? JOHN CLEMENTI: R&D? Marketing, mostly. So yeah, I will do that here. So this is our latest baby. LINDA ROSENLUND:Is that on the market yet? JOHN CLEMENTI: No. Not yet. LINDA ROSENLUND:… revolution. I think the other… JOHN CLEMENTI: Maybe. [Laughter] LINDA ROSENLUND:Well, you never know… JOHN CLEMENTI: You never know. SPEKAER 1: Is security an issue here? JOHN CLEMENTI: In terms of intellectual property? Yeah, it's an issue everywhere. So far so good, though. I mean, our products have been patented. We spend a lot of time and effort. I think we're pretty secure, but who knows? Here, I think in Plastican we have about 300. I think companywide we -- I think we have a very good 33 track record. I mean, I'd bet that fact that four employees that are going to be celebrating 30 years with us in a couple of months. We have very little turnover management, almost none. As far as our shift employees are concerned, the day shifts are very stable. It's really the -- it goes with the nature of the beast. When you're running 24 hours a day, there are some people that would only work 11 to 7 and 11. And there are other people that would never do it. The toughest shift tends to be 3 to 11, because it's kind of in the middle of the day and… that shift. But other than that, we're pretty fortunate with turnover here. Yeah, I think it's safe to say that we're no different from any other manufacturers in the Commonwealth. We have a lot of people of Hispanic -- I think we have a cross section of the people who live here. LINDA ROSENLUND:Can you mention that again? JOHN CLEMENTI: Yeah. Well, we have a lot of Hispanic employees. I'd say it's probably the major ethnic group that we have. And we also have a lot of Asians—Koreans, Vietnamese, Hmong. And so it's pretty much the reflection of the people that live in our area. I would hope so. I'd like to think that we've give people opportunities to advance themselves, you know, professionally, economically. I too provide opportunities to people. As I said before, we've been fortunate in that our recruitment and retention, we've just been very successful people come here. But I think everybody wants to leave a legacy of fairness and opportunity, and I hope to do the same./AT/lj/es

The Mercury December. 1906 HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau or Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. Makers of Caps and Gowns To Gettysburg College, Lafayette, Lehigh, Dickinson, State College, Univ. of Pennsylvania, Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Wellesley, Bryn Mawr and the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods for Degrees. WHY NOT GET A POSITION NOW 1 The sooner the young graduate finds the right opportunity the bet-ter his chances for success. We offer the best means of bringing your ability to the attention of employers in all parts of the country. Are you familiar with our successful methods'? We will gladly give you without charge full information concerning desirable posi-tions that will be open in the early summer and fall for capable College. University and Technical School graduates. Better not delay about writing us for we are al-ready placing many 1B0U men. The National Organization ot ZKC-^^GrOOIDS, Brain Brokers. UPen.n.syl-va.srLia, rBld.g-., :iPis.ila,d.elpli.ia,, UPa. Ofnces in Twelve Other Cities. Come and Have a Good Shave,,, or HAIR-CUT at Harry B. Sefton's BARBER SHOP 35 Baltimore St. BARBERS' SUPPLIES A SPECIALTY. Also, choice line of fine Cigars. R. A. WONDERS Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, etc. Scott's Corner, opp. Eagle Hotel GETTYSBURG, PA. Pool Parlors in Connection. IF YOU CALL ON C. A. Bloeher, Jeuuelef*, Centre Square, He can serve you in anything you may want in REPAIRING or JEWELRY. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 1867 by Allen Walton. Allen K. Walton, Pres. and Treas. Robt. J. Walton, Superintendent. Hummelstown Brown Stone Company j If £ G2TT-£>_^:Ei-3r:b/£:E3:fcT and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING, and TILE, fALTONVILLE. '" PENNA. Contractors for all kinds of cut stone work. Telegraph and Express Address, BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting quarries will leave cars at Hrownstone Station, on the P. & R. R. R. For Artistic Photographs TIPTON, The Leader in Photo Fashions. Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. ICECREAM. SODAWATEE. Telephone Call 1612. Sheads'Hijjl) Grade Confections 37-39 Chamhersburg Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. FRUITS. Restaurant Attached The Most Popular College Songs A welcome gift in any borne. The Most Popular College Songs - - * 50 New College Songs - Songs of ALL the Colleges - • Songs of the WESTERN Colleges Songs of the EASTERN Colleges SCHOOL Songs with COLLEGE Flavor - Songs of the Flag and Nation - 100 New Kindergarten Songs - New Songs for College Glee Clubs New Songs for Male Quartets - Songs of the University of Pennsylvania Songs of the University of Michigan - Songs of Washington and Jefferson College- Songs of Haverford College - New Songs and Anthems for Church Quartets, {Eleven Numbers) each .10 to .30 HINDS, NOBLE & ELDREDGE, PubUsben 31-33 35 West 15th St. New York City PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. dJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMIMIIIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^ I Seligman I I & Brehm I I Are Gettysburg's Most | Reliable | I TAILiORS I And show their appreciation of your patronage by giving you full value for your money, and closest attention to the wants of every customer. 1 Give Them I | Your Patronage I lllllllllllllllMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIilllllllllllllillllllinillllllllllSlllillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllR PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. AtM*******************************!***********1**^^ Weaver Pianos and Organs Essentially the instruments for critical and discriminating buyers. Superior in every detail of construction and superb instruments for the production of a great variety of musical effects and the finest shades of expression. Close Prices. Easy Term:. Old Instruments Exchanged. WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, YORK, PA., U S. A. Students' Headquarters - -FOR-HATS, SHOES . AND GENT'S FURNISHING Sole Agent for WALK-OVER SHOE Eckert's Store. Prices always right The LutheM puMication^ocietiJ No. 1424 Arch Street PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Col-leges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and devel-op one of the church institutions with pecuniary advantage to yourself. Address HENRY. S. BONER, Supt. The flDepcupy. The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. Vol. XIV. GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER 1906. No. 7 CONTENTS "THE PASSING"—Poem 182 FRANK W. MOSER, '07. " ECONOMIC EFFECTS OF PENSIONS FOR TEACHERS " —Essay 183 SAMUEL E. SMITH, '07. "OUR LIBRARIES "—Essay .188 THOMAS E. SHEARER, '07. "A MILLIONAIRE"—Story. . . 191 F. M. HARMON, '08. "POE: POET OR CHARLATAN "—Essay. . 19s W. WISSLEU HACKMAN, '08. I "THE TWENTIETH CENTURY'S DEMANDS UPON WOMAN "—Oration 201 ELSIE A. GERLACH, '07. "A MYSTERY SOLVED "—Story 204 LEVERING TYSON, '09. EDITORIALS, . . . 208 182 THE MERCURY. . THE PASSING. FRANK W. MOSER, '07. kHE pleasant Autumn days are gone, Their joys have passed away ; Girt with the legions of the North Old Boreas has issued forth To dominate the day. The pumpkins all are gathered in, The corn flags all are furled ; The trees have wept to see them go And fling their leaves like falling snow- Across the dying world. Right valiantly did Autumn strive To yield a bounteous store ; Her granaries were opened wide That lavishly from every side The golden fruit might pour. The snapping of the backlog sounds A message old yet new ; Pile up the fire and let it roar To match the winds that downward pour, The blackened fireplace through. The chestnuts crackle with delight To welcome Winter in ; But Autumn goes with face forlorn, Beat by the surly Winter's storm, A.11 pinched and wan and thin. So life will pass from morn to eve, From noontide glow to dark The cheerful voices of the day Will cease their songs and fade away ; Death kills the vital spark. • »i THE MERCURY. 183 ECONOMICAL EFFECTS OF PENSIONS FOR TEACHERS. SAMUEI, E. SMITH, 07. ASUBJECT of this nature is necessarily very broad. Teachers are of many grades. The teacher of the country school, receiving thirty-five dollars per month, or even less, marks the lowest grade. The college professor, whose compensation is five thousand dollars or more per year, may serve to establish the other margin, although only in rare in-stances is such a sum received by a professor. Between these two limits are many different classes of teachers, whose rates of wages are comparatively well defined. In the discussion of this topic our observations shall be confined, for the most part, to the highest class, college professors, since what pertains to them with reference to public pensions, is also applicable to the teachers of lower grades. Public pensions for .teachers would naturally involve a great variety of economical questions, since those instructing the youth form a large and influential element in society. In our opinion the economical effects would be both direct and indirect; direct in that they affect teachers as a class, and indirect seeing that they would undoubtedly in-fluence society in general. Beginning with the direct economical effects of pensioning teachers, it may first of all be affirmed that a better class of men would take up teaching as a profession. The degree of efficiency in the profession of teaching varies just as it does in the business world. In business the marginal factors are the day laborer and the entrepreneur; in teaching the adher-ent and advocate of a parrot-like mastery of book theories, too often antiquated, and the teacher with a personality, a thinker and one capable of stimulating thought, and yet withal severe in his demands for careful study on the part of students. To the instructor of the youth, a compelling personality is just as essential as it is to the entrepreneur. Rarely does one find a successful business man without a decided personality and yet multitudes of men, are attempting to mould young lives, who are lacking in this essential characteristic. ■ 184 THE MERCURY. Why is it that the men of power more frequently choose a business career than the noble calling, that of instructing the young ? Simply beeause the inducements are mostly on the side of the business career. The professor never receives a large salary and after his days of usefulness are over he may, as a rule, look forward to a mere pittance which he has labori-ously saved during his active service. On the other hand the successful business man looks forward to a comfortable old age made possible by the property acquired during a period when his own efforts were the only limits to his acquisition of wealth. This very difference in prospects makes the business career the more desirable as no man is desirous of spending his old age deprived of the comforts of life. In the event of teachers re-ceiving a pension, after years of faithful service, the natural horror of an old age spent in poverty would be removed. Men are ever willing to toil for a livelihood during their years of strength when a future day of comfort is in prospect, but look with fear upon that calling whose active days require a struggle which is unattended by the promise of support in the declining years. When teachers receive pensions more of the choice spirits will take up the noble work. The result will be that teachers of inferior personality and attainment will be forced into other lines of activity, and it is safe to say that the new work will be for the most part of a clerical nature. Having thus seen that the teaching force would be materially changed by the establishment of pensions, it is also worthy to note that a higher standard of living would prevail among teachers. The teacher would have more money to spend dur-ing the time of his active service. As the teachers number a small army, throughout the country, this item would be of no little importance. More books would be purchased, travel would be more extensive, there would be more and better food and clothing. Thus demand would be increased and produc-tion would naturally be increased to meet the demand. Another direct result of public pension would be the in-creasing number of teachers. For example, if a man after forty years of service should be granted a pension, he would usually be glad to retire to follow various pursuits of a literary, THE MERCURY. I85 political or social nature, pursuits which could not be noticed during the period of active service. Provided a man began teaching at the age of twenty-five he would retire at the age of sixty-five. Under the present system, many men teach until long after the age of sixtv-five. Retirement at this age would make the period of service shorter for each teacher and thus more instructors would be required. These are the direct economical results which would be brought about by the pen-sioning of teachers. However, there are yet more important considerations to be regarded, namely, the effect upon society of granting of such •pensions. These we would characterize by the term indirect. Many branches of commercial activity would be affected. The prospect of a pension, as has already been shown, would attract more and a better class of men to the profession of teaching. Consequently, men now engaged in banking and various business pursuits, whose compensation is equal or con-siderably superior to the salary of teachers, would be eager to enter the ranks of teachers as there would be the strong inducement of being provided for in old age. This same proposition would hold good for all the grades of positions in the profession. Besides, the opinion is almost univer-sally held that teaching is more honorable than a business career. The teacher has also more leisure as the summer months are completely his own. With the added advantage of a pension in old age, great numbers would turn from pur-suits essentially commercial to teaching. In order to retain the most efficient individuals in the business world wages would of necessity increase in a great many lines of business. For example certain men leaving college, would find it more to their advantage to accept an instructorship in a college or high school with the prospect of at length receiving $2,000 per year as a professor and a pension in old age, than to enter a bank with the prospect of becoming cashier at $2500 per year and no pension in old age. Again the girls who must earn their own living, would find it better to become teachers at $40, $50 or $60 per month and receive a pension in old age, than to stand behind a counter or in the telephone ex- UMUn 186 THE MERCURV. change for a compensation of $8, $10, or $12 per week, with-out prospect of a pension, and then oft times be exposed to the indecent and insulting propositions of their employers and the men with whom they are compelled to associate. Besides,, in the case of a woman, it is considered much more respect- ■ able to be a teacher than to be a saleslady, stenographer or cloak model. Without a doubt, the granting of pensions to-teachers would attract the choice spirits to that line of work and all wages in the business world would be advanced in order to keep up the required standard of efficiency. Then too, the standard, of the teaching force having been raised, as has been shown, a gradual change would be effected in the habits and ideals of the people who would receive in-struction under the better teachers. As was intimated before, in the event of pensions being granted to teachers, the change in efficiency would be largely marked by the improved person-, ality of those instructing the young. The teacher who is lack-ing in magnetism and tact is bound to present books and en-force discipline in such a way as to alienate the restless young spirit from scholarly pursuits and respect for authority. Too often the youth having experienced the ennui, pro-duced by books and theories, made possible by the bund-derings of a teacher totally lacking in personality, rushes forth into commercial life, turns his back on true knowl-, edge and culture, and strives only for the dollar. To this man gratification of the senses is the only form of pleasure. He lives a selfish life, ever seeking to take advantage of his fellow-men. He amasses great wealth at the expense of his neigh-bors. Better teachers, especially those with high ideals and a compelling personality would in time help materially to correct this selfish spirit. The young would be taught to respect scholarship and finally to love it. The youth, with a virile mind directing his training, would eventually see that mere money is not the goal to be attained, but that the acquisition of wealth in order to help one's fellowmen is the summum bonum. The young, thus having been inspired with higher ideals would gradually change social and economical conditions in a decided manner. THE MERCURY. I87 However, in another way the granting of pensions would affect society in general. A pension having been granted, after a number of years of service, would surely retire many men, comparatively vigorous in body and mind. Men of this class would naturally take an interest in the social and politi-cal life of the community in which they reside. Having both time and money at their disposal and being filled with high ideals, they would undoubtedly be a power in their community. First there would be a moral uplift but eventually material conditions would be changed. The retired educators would be as a leaven in the social mass. For example, reading cir-cles and culture clubs would be more popular than the gather-ings for playing bridge whist. This would soon have its ef-fects on the manner of dress and the nature of amusements, both of which have to do with the wants of the people. Thus a change in economical conditions. In this brief manner we have endeavored to show the direct and indirect economical effects, which would arise from the pensioning of teachers. However, since no extensive experi-ments have been tried along these lines, most of the discussion relative to this subject is theoretical. It is to be hoped that the next few decades will afford practical examples of pensions for teachers so that the truth or falsity of present conjectures may be demonstrated. i88 THE MERCURY. OUR LIBRARIES. THOMAS E. SHEARER, '07. THE time is now ripe, it seems, to set forth the belief that our libraries would fulfiill their purpose with greater effi-ciency and more satisfaction to all parties concerned, if they were united and systematized under a single index. This idea of a unified library is undergoing some agitation at the pres-ent time, and if this article in anyway increases that agitation and helps to bring about the desired result its purpose shall have been accomplished. Libraries have existed from the remotest times of antiquity. Ever since man was first able to put his thoughts into writing of any form, whether on papyrus, stones, tiles, or paper there have been books and consequently libraries. All our great modern libraries—and particularly is it true of college libraries —are established and maintained for the purpose of research in all the branches of knowledge. In order that a library may effectively fulfill this great purpose, it must be exhaustive, i. e., it must contain all the works necessary for research work in any branch of knowledge. Our present system of libraries is not the best possible for us under the present circumstances. There is too much wasted energy in it. In our three libraries we have a total of about thirty thousand volumes. Of the eighteen thousand volumes of the College Library over one-third are government reports and records of one kind or another—works distinctively of a referential character ; and of each of the societies six thou-sand volumes, practically one fourth are magazine vohimes. Now do not misunderstand this. It is not meant that these books could at all be dispensed with. Far from it. No college library would be at all complete without them. But these volumes are not used very much. These divisions are made merely to get an estimate of what we may call our working library. Therefore, estimating about twelve thousand volumes in College Library and four thousand five hundred in each of the Society Libraries, that are of such a character as to be put into regular use, we have at most twenty-one thousand volumes THE MERCURY. 189 in our working library. This number includes all encyclope-dias, hir.tories, gazetteers, etc., and all other works of reference, with the exception of, as has been noted, government reports, records, and bound magazines. Now, if we had this many different books we would be very well off indeed, but we find a very great number of the same books in all three libraries. For example, among the encyclo-pedias in College Library are: Chambers, The Edinburg, Penny's, The New American and The Americana ; all of which are found in one of the Society Libraries also, and some in both. Now this seems to be an altogether unnecessary outlay of money for such works when we have so many other good works of the same kind in College Library. But, it may be said, that these works named are all old and not up-to-date. That is true, and so much the more reason why we should not have two and three sets of them. The fact that we have more than one set of these works brings out the point that there has been little or no system or unison in the selectfon of books by the different library committees. If there had been system there would not be this useless overlapping of Encyclopedias. That this is a fault not only of the past but also of the pres-ent regulations, is shown by the fact that this overlapping is found not only in the older encyclopedias but also in other de-partments. There is in each of the three libraries the set of The British Poets, in one hundred volumes, one set of which would be sufficient for our Library. The same overlapping is seen in Biography, History and in the standard authors such as Ruskin, Carlyle, Dickens, Scott, Thackery, Cooper, Bulwer- Lytton, Irving, Emerson, Hawthorne, Holmes, and all the standard poets. This overlapping, all told, amounts to a good many hundred volumes. It is necessary to have more than one copy of some of these works, but of the vast majority of them, especially of the sets, a single copy or set is sufficient in a college of our size. It is evident from the extent of the overlapping that a change in the system of selecting our books is necessary. But what change shall we make ? Shall it be a general merger of the 190 THE MERCURY. three libraries into one, or simply a joint committee to select the books? At all events there must be cooperation. The merger idea seems to be the one in popular favor, and would, no doubt, 'solve the problem most satisfactorily. To have our libraries under a single index, systematically and logically arranged in one apartment, and in charge of a person who is acquainted with the entire library, and then to have a unified method of procuring new books, would be almost in-calculably better than the present system. But, it might be objected, that under these conditions the Literary Societies would no longer be ambitious to add a goodly number of books each year. This need not be so. Under this merger let each society put its seal in its new books but leave the numbering and shelving directions to come in under the College system. Each society could also keep a record of the books it adds to the library. In this way the societies could keep up their libraries, but merged into and subject to the College Library. Under this plan we see no reason what-ever why the societies should not continue to vie with each other in securing as many good books each year as possible, under this plan, this expensive and futile overlapping would be done away with, and a wider field of Literature, History and Science would be open to the students. But, most of this, it might be said, could be secured by the mere working of a joint committee to select the books. But that would leave the three libraries separate with their in-complete indices and would not unify matters as they should be. Although a joint committee could do good work in this matter, yet we believe that one good, exhaustive Library would be much better than three, each of which is incomplete in itself. THE MERCURY. IQI A MILLIONAIRE. F. M. HARMON, '08. THE deep-toned noon whistle on the -boiler-house called a thousand men and boys away from their work of prepar-ing "anthracite " for commercial use. The huge breaker en-gines quickly ceased their dreary roaring ; the " lokies " were side-tracked and deserted ; and in every direction hurried the tired, begrimed men to secure their dinner-pails and partake of a cold and unsatisfying lunch. Little knots of congenial spirits were soon assembled in every convenient, shad}' spot, for the sun was hot and the air sultry. Topics of local and universal interest were eagerly taken up and hotly debated. It is wonderful with what earnestness and attention these debates are entered into and listened to by these men of toil. The baseball situation in the major leagues .hav-ing been discussed at length; the protracted and intensely hot weather forcibly disapproved ; plans for the approaching na-tional holiday, the Fourth, eagerly arranged—an article on the next inter-national automobile race was read from the city paper by the breaker engineer, who was the only man around the colliery that indulged in having his paper delivered to him while at work. Immediately arose speculations as to the out-come of the race. In the ensuing discussion about automo-biles in general, a little slate picker exclaimed " Gee, it must take a heap of tin to run one of them things:" " You bet, those guys must have money to burn." Up sprang a grey-haired old man, old " Danny," the boss of the chutes, " Yes, and where do they get their money? They steal it from us workin' men, what earn it hard and then never get it! " The old man's eyes flashed and his voice quivered ■with anger—" I have worked for this company for thirty years ; I have given my best days in its service. What have I to show for it ?—a miserable job at the chutes when I might Vbeen engineer at No. 6." " Yes, but Danny, you're way off, we were talking about automobiles," I 192 1HE MERCURY. " So am I," yelled Danny, highly excited, " Look at old P , (president of the company) just last week he went an' bought one of them noisy back-kickin' machines. They say it cost him twenty thousand. Well, I say that the old miser didn't pay for that thing himself, I paid for it! " " You don't say,'' teased one of the chaingang men. " Yes I did ! though not of my own choosing. Old P has cheated me out of that much money and more since I first started to work for him over in ' Orphan's Home' gangway. Why they tell me he's got twenty million hoarded up. How-much of that did he honestly earn ? Not a cent! He stole it, every penny." " But, Danny, he inherited over five million." " Well then, his people before him stole that too. You needn't try to tell me that any man can honestly work hard enough in a life-time to pile up that much money. He's got to be crooked some place. I've worked my whole life, ever since I was a little shaver of twelve—and I did honest work, too—and to-day I'm an old man and haven't a cent stored up for a rainy-day. If I do earn a little money, they get it back again in the company store. What's he going to do with all his money anyway ? Why can't we have a share in it ? There are a few big thieves who steal up a billion dollars, and then store it away some place. If that would be given out to us who earned it and deserve it, none of us would have to work no more and we'd have plenty of grub and clothes and a little left over for the tobacco. Emitting a flow of strong language directed against all rich men in general, Danny, with an air of the sense of the injustice of the whole thing, sat down again A burly young chain-gangman, closing his emptied dinner can with a bang, began : " Danny is right; those rich old duf-fers have no right to hang on to all that money. The money in the first place come from some place in the earth ; we are all on the earth. In the second place, every man is just as-good as the next one, so no man has any call to get something more than any other man can get. You see old P strut THE MERCURY. 193 down the street in his swell clothes, smoking dollar cigars and looking as if he was the only pebble. He's got a string of race horses that bring him in a good many thousands a year. They have those races all fixed, anyhow. That's all right, for one thief to rob another thief, but who earns the money which those big suckers are stealing ? We do ! It's our money ! How could anything be done except for the working man. Suppose these old soaks had to work the way we do i I'd given a week's pay to have gotton old P on one end of that fan we carried up the west slope of the old Hollywood stripping. We'd have either broken his back or his head. There are over a thousand men working here in this colliery and those thousand are under the thumbs of one or two big bugs. Why do we let them tramp on us like this ? We could easily put them out of business and run things to suit ourselves. I know if we just had some fellow to lead us we could soon make old P .duff up." " Well, why don't you lead off, Tippey ?" " No, thanks, I am not anxious for the job ; but just the same I'm ready to follow a good leader." "Same here—So am I" "That's the cheese," and similar expressions were muttered by the listening men. Just then the warning whistle blew and the men hurried to their places of work to be ready when the engines started again. Among those who heard the discussion that noon hour was a young fellow who went to college, but who liked to spend his summers working among the laboring people. This discus-sion occupied his thoughts all afternoon and when quitting time came he was anxious to get home and find the opinion of some other person upon some of the questions brought up by the miners. The man whose opinion he sought was the cashier of one of the largest banks in the city and was noted for his knowl-edge of things in genera! and knowledge of money in particu-lar. The one question which had arisen in the youth's mind was whether the money owned by the millionaire was really hoarded up. 194 THE MERCURY. The cashier answered this question immediately and decis-ively : "No, that money, said to be owned by a single indi-vidual, is in constant circulation throughout the financial uni-verse. What difference does it make whether one man owns the million dollars or whether a hundred or a thousand men own it. A millionaire is generally a shrewd business man or he would never have acquired his possessions. So the money in his hands is made to do the greatest possible work, while in the hands of a number of people it might not be used to such wise advantage. It takes brains as well as energy to become a millionaire. Those men over there at the colliery who were today ignorantly discussing a great subject have not the mental capacity required to control and use rightly a vast fortune. I'll admit that people of great wealth very often waste their money in extravagant affairs. But is that money really lost ? No, it returns into the general circulation and remains a part of the inestimable wealth of the world. The working man does not really desire to live like a mil lionaire and even if he did have the opportunity of indulging in the little follies of the rich, he couldn't endure them long, for generations of the one plane of living have habituated him to his occupation in life and he will be out of place anywhere away from his natural work. I am no defender of the million aire in his follies, but I do believe that his money does as much good and more when manipulated by his keen business ability than if divided among people who in conceit think themselves capable of using wealth, but who in truth are in no way able to use wisely more money than seems to be their just amount. So let us not envy the rich man or be harsh in our judgment of his actions. Our manner of living is different from his and so we cannot be fair in our estimate of his conduct." !' THE MERCURY. 195 POE: POET OR CHARLATAN? W. WISSLER HACKMAN. II. AS POET. IT is not our intention to usurp the office of critic—had we even the ability—the need were lacking. It is not so much a question whether or no Poe wrote good poetry, or bad poetry, or mediocre, for he did, as, is he sincere, is he consistent with his own. declaration of faith ; are the motives and emotions he displays genuine. There is however, a deeper, a subtler, a more intangible phase to be determined which does involve a certain consideration of style. The question that confronts us at the very outset is such as would—to satisfy the hypocritical—-necessitate a del-ving to the very roots and vital bases of poetry—even more a determination of the very nature and essence of poety it-selt. To state clearly, concisely, and convincingly what POETRY is per se, is a proposition before which greater intel-lects than ours have quailed. It is therefore, with a sense of gratefulness that we may assert that for our purposes we" need go no further than the poet's own assertion in the matter— " Poetry in words is therythmical creation of beauty." Yet let us be a little clearer on this matter of poetry before we draw deductions. Just as red light, brass bands, and tri-colored draperies in-spire an exaltation of emotion by no means necessarily iden-tical with patriotism, and as the abnormal stir of passion pro-duced by the snare drums' spirited roll is not, nor should be, confounded with love of fatherland; so let us not confuse me-chanical means and effects, be they ever so admirable, with the true soul exaltation of poesy. To the majority of the public Poe appears in the single role 'of Poet. This is rather significant, for the sum of his poetry, in bulk, is comparatively slight. Yet so completely has he won the title of Poet from the masses as to have it eclipse, in a manner, the other and more extensive phases of his literary activity. I have said this was significant. And this signifi- 190 THE MERCURY. cance will be apparent when we turn to the poet's own words, " With me poetry has been, not a purpose, but a passion." * If anywhere Poe is sincere it must be in his poems. All through his career " Poet" was the one goal of his ambition, the passionate aspiration of his being. Almost all his prose was written in the form of " pot boilers," or to wreak ven-geance or perchance malice on rivals or critics, supposed or real. Eureka alone I think may be set aside as wrought in purity and reverence; and toward poetry he maintains much the same worshipful, sincere attitude. Note his words: " Events not to be controlled have prevented me from making, at any time, any serious efforts in what [poetry,] under happier circumstances, would have been the field of my choice." f Fur-ther down ; "and. the passions [among them that of poetry] should be held in reverence: they must not—they cannot at will be excited, with an eye to paltry compensations, etc." \ That the subject of poetry powerfully appealed to Poe is evident in his own prose work. He has devoted five articles to poetry in one phase or another ; more than to any one other subject. And almost always his treatment is serious ; bitter often, carping frequently, but in the main sincere. The tenets of his poetic faith are set forth in apparent good faith, and lived up to with remarkable fidelity. Only once does his man-ner descend dangerously near to buffoonery, the concluding paragraph of his Rationale of Verse—a nasty fling at Long-fellow, for whom Poe, as a rival perhaps, had scant love. Yet even here it is an injury aimed rather at a school of writers than an evidence of irreverence to poetry. One other instance of a similar attack may be lound in his poetry proper, "The Einigma" a take sonnet which will be again noted in this article. What, then, are the principles of Poe's poetical creed ? 1st principle—"The value of the poem is in the ratio of this elevating excitement [i. e. of soul]." 2nd principle—" Beauty is the sole legitimate province of * Preface to edition of Poems in 1845. t Preface to edition of Poems in 1H45. % Italics are mine. THE MERCURY. 197 the poem."* Postulate—a POEM should not aim to satisfy intel-lect by Truth, or excite the heart by passion, but should aim to give the highest, purest, intensest pleasure. A little farther on in this same essay of his he argues forci-bly against didactic poetry. He continues all effort to teach for the sake of teaching. Truth he boldly asserts may be in-troduced merely to illucidate, to be a foil, as intended discords in music, or low comedy in Shakespeare. All, then, is subser-viant to " beauty "; " The Beautiful " is paramount in the cre-ation of POETRY. Bear in mind, however, he does not utterly banish TRUTH from the realm of poesy; he distinctly concedes that at such times as he has stipulated TRUTH may be profitably introduced. In the mechanism of his verse there are four characteristics worthy of especial attention; the refrain, alliteration, intraand interlinier rhyme, and a daring independence in material ar-rangement. Poe was a keen analyst, and consequently an able mathematician. He was fond of calculus, and both at college and West Point took high rank in mathematics. To the popu-lar mind there presents itself somewhat incongruous, a so close union between two so seemingly diametrically opposed forms of mental activity. The Poet is the very antithesis to the Mathematician, such seems the general sentiment, and to have them brought together thus rudely and unceremoniously is a shock, sudden and unprecedented, to accepted ideals. Yet is there really such incongruity ? Poe's arguments are then re-markably lucid and plausible. He not only preaches but practices. Now for a brief review of his more important poems, they fall naturally into four groups; personal, meditative, melan-cholic, abnormal or supernatural. Throughout all winds the tragic thread of hysteria, all are marked or marred by an ab-normal egotism, a morbid self interest. I have said Poe was Byronic in egotism, this is nowhere so evident as in these poems. Under the first group come his tributes to benefactors and sympathizers, the best of which is probably the one "To * Philosophy of Composition. 198 THE MERCURY. Helen,"* the worst "The Enigma." "To Hellen " was written at the age of fourteen, yet the illusive flow and exalted grandeur of this slight poem caused Lowell to exclaim in wonder, "A standard to which many in their maturity fail to approach !" The poem starts with a line of peculiar beauty, " Helen thy beauty is to me—" The second stanza ends in the magnificent couplet: '' To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome." Words crammed with centuries, resonant of the ages! The final stanza is evidently reminiscent of some occasion strongly impressed; the "agate lamp" lends a touch of homely reality that attests to sincerity, although it mars the atmosphere of the elevated, and otherwise classic setting. Compared to this "The Enigma" is rank doggerel, and it is a blessed relief to feel Poe so intended it. It is rather coarsely ironic, yet it is clever. It is a trick poem, an accostic hinted in the last line containing the names Anna and Lewis. Aside from this it is a mere blunt stab at the then existing popularity and abuse of the \ sonnet, in which form this same is written. To the second group belong a larger part of Poe's poems. Foremost: are " A Dream Within a Dream," " The Coliseum," " Silence," " Dreams," " Romance." Of these " The Coliseum " is in my judgment the noblest. The sustained loftiness, the classic stateliness of its measures, is happily free from the blem-ishes of ill-timed commonplaces which so often mar his other poems. The second stanza is an invocation ; sombre and sonorous. Note the slow, stately sweep of the feet like the measured tread of legions. Vastness ! and Age ! and memories of Eld. Then follows a remarkable series of parallels, the final being elimacteric in its somber irony : " Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled, Glides, specter-like, unto his marble home ; *I refer to the " To Helen " addressed to Mrs. Stanard, the mother of a school-mate, who, by her kindness, wielded a remarkable influence over the sensitive youth. Her death called forth this poem together with " The Sleeper." THE MERCURY. 199 Lit by the wan light of the ronnd moon, The swift and silent lizatd of the stones." Then the query, full of a vast regret : "These stones—alas ! these grey stones—are they all- Left ********** By the corosive Hours to Fate and me ? " And the triumphant reply : " ' Not all '—the Echoes answer me—' not all! , Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever From us, and from all Ruin unto the wise, Not all * * * * that hang upon And cling around about us as a garment, Clothing us in a robe of more than glory.' " Of the Melancholic there are a host. In fact very few of Poe's poems are free from melancholia. Although Poe in his "Philosophy of Composition" makes melancholia an impera-tive necessity in a poet's equipment—yet I feel that Poe's poems in the main are melancholiy because they are autobiographic. They are of the soul; and that soul warped, distorted and embittered. Of these I can but note, in passing, "Ulalume " and " Tamerlane," the former mystic, the latter lucid ; they stand widely apart and yet they are akin in spirit. Tragedy, deep, vague, flows through them like a turgid, stream, livid and unwholesome. " Al ArafT" together with "Tamerlane" show marked traces of the influences of Byron and Moor, both of whom Poe intensely admired. Peculiarly redolent with Poe's own aspirations, fresh in youth, yet already tainted with the bitter edge of dissappointment, are the lines : " I wrapped myself in grandeur then And donned a visionary crown— Yet it was not that of fantasy Had thrown her mantle over me— But that, among the rabble—men, Lion ambition is chained down— And crouches to a keeper's hand— Not so in deserts where the grand— The wild—the terrible conspire With their own breath to fan his fire."* The final group- * Tamerlane. -the fantastic, the wierd, the grewsome 200 THE MERCURY. this is Poe's special sphere. The somber tragedy of " The Raven," the morbid unhumaness of " Anabell Lee," the quaint fantastic irony of " For Arnnie,"the creeping, slimy, awful still-ness ; the brazen waters, the livid sky—the silence, downpress-ing and palpable ; the noisless stir—the dull horror of " The City of the Sea," in " The Sleeper; " the human common place-ness of its former part, the growing mystery, the freedom from natural grief, the the dull repression of its latter part; the un-seemly cheerfulness grating harshly to stimulate a feeling very like repugnance; to all this the allegory of " The Haunted Palace " insistently seems to offer a clew—it is Poe's INTELLECT ! " The olden time of long ago," is his childhood and early youth—the demon haunted palace is the present;—the demon's —thoughts! How many have crept their slimy selves into dis-torted perpetuity. It is terrible to conceive of a human be-ing cursed with such a horror-breeding brain bordering on de-mentia— it is more terrible to think of a man deliberately manu-facturing in cold blood such twisting, grinny, ghoulish crea-tions. No, this is too profound—in parts, too diabolic—if you please, to pass for mere buffoonery ; it may be charlatanism in dead earnest—but to me it smells of downright magic and fellest black-art. NOTE—"The Raven," " The Bells," "Tamerlane," "Leonore" will receive fuller attention in a later article embracing these together with " Eureka " under the head of Poe's Masterpieces. The next installment will treat of Poe under the phase as Critic and Essayist. —Ed. THE MERCURY. 201 THE TWENTIETH CENTURY'S DEMANDS UPON WOMAN. ELSIE A. GERLACH, '07. BEFORE the present century dawned it was not uncom-mon to hear the mannish woman styled the twentieth century woman. Where the idea originated is not known. But it was possibly due to the fact that woman was becoming more self-reliant, was taking her place in the business world, and was entering with keen appreciation into the sports which were hers for the asking but which only men had indulged in heretofore. The last and perhaps the greatest reason was that woman was coming to the front in education, and standing on an equal plane with the men, both in our own country and Europe. In the early part of the last century the women of the West worked shoulder to shoulder with their husbands on the farm- Willingly they helped to tame the wilderness, following the plow and gathering the harvest, and bravely they faced the danger when death threatened them in the shape of wild beasts or wilder men. But alas! their willing hands often faltered under a burden too heavy for them to bear. And while these women were helping wich strenuous manual labor to build up a new life in the West, our Southern women, with innumerable slaves at their command, were living a life of ease and luxury, basking under a tropical sun. For a Southern woman of gentle birth to work was considered a disgrace. House work was forbidden, and to go out into the world to earn a living was not to be thought of. So it seemed to fall to the lot of the Northern woman to set the pace for a happy medium. Stirred to activity by the cool winds of the North, work seemed the most natural thing in the world for her. Yet it was not all work and no play which she desired. If necessity compelled her to make her living she did it willingly, and was respected for it. But at the same time she entered with zeal into the healthful out-of-door sports and exercises. She also advanced step by step toward the higher education formerly attained only by the men, until 202 THE MERCURY. to-day she stands at the zenith. Can the extent of this for-ward movement be measured? " In man there is nothing great but mind " is the familiar abhorism of Hamilton, and the men-tal endowment is received directly from the mother. Find, if you can, one man who has been truly great whose mother was not a wise woman, and now since higher education has become universal, with such a heritage from his mother the man of the twentieth century ought to achieve things inconcievable to-former generations. The Western and Southern women soon realized and ac-knowledged the superiority of the course which the Northern woman was pursuing, and to-day not only they, but the wo-men all over the world, are following her example of Sana metis in corpore sono. With such privileges granted her, what does the century de mand of woman? One thing is certain, that the present cen-tury demands far more than former centuries. The reason for this may. be that we are living in a more strenuous age and one must live faster to keep abreast of the times. The cen-tury's primal demand is that woman must be educated. No-matter in what sphere of life she may be she must be educated that she may be able to cope with the many perplexing prob-lems which arise daily. If her sphere is the home, she must be familiar with the science of cooking. If she has servants she must know how to bring out the best that is in them. She must be able to answer the questions of her children, who know more at ten than their great-grandfathers did at fifty. She must be able to be a good companion to a husband who-is alert, well balanced in business affairs, and keeping pace with the times. There is an urgent demand for the cheaper labor of woman. Many a foolish girl leaves a good home where she has all the necessities of" life, and a not a few luxuries, to enter a factory. She has, as one says, " All she needs but not all she wants." To earn a few trifling luxuries and to enjoy, a few worthless pleasures, she will forego all the joys of home life, and will go from the guiding hand of a loving mother, out into the world, into the oftimes degrading factories, with their deafening, mad- THE MERCURY. 203 dening roar, their awful monotony of work, and in many cases their dull and coarse workmen. Mrs. Van Vorst writes that a girl working by her in the factory said to her, " I'll bet you can't guess how old I am." The lady records, " I look at her. Her face and throat are wrinkled. Her hands broad and scrawney. She is tall and has short skirts. What shall be my clue ? If I judge by pleasures " Unborn " would be my an-swer. If by effort then " A thousand years." " Twenty " I hazard as a safe medium, " Fourteen " she laughs. " I don't like it at home. The kids bother me so, Mamma's people are. well to do. I'm working for my own pleasure." Is it right for a girl to throw her life away in this manner? The answer is emphatically " No." This demand ought not to be com-plied with. She ought to learn a higher aim than the mere making of money. Still worse is the case of the sweat shop, where the cheap bargain-counter goods are made. Cheap ? Yes, cheap in money value, but dearly bought at the price of the lives of women and children who are not able to demand high wages. This demand for labor ought to be prohibited by law, law closing the sweat shops. At least all good women ought to know the significance of the bargain-counters and shun them. On the other hand, and here is a puzzling question, if the century demands a place for women in the congenial business world with the men, does she find it, after all, her sphere ? When the number of women who enter the business world is increasing year by year, what will be the outcome ? Is it, after all, best ? The " Homeletic Review " gives the following sta-tistics : In 1890 about 4,000,000 women were engaged in gain-ful occupations. Ten years later they had increased 36 per cent. Relatively to men the number of women engaged in domestic and personal service actually fell off in this same time, while in trade and transportation it rose from 6 per cent, to 10. True, hundreds and thousands of women are working on an equal basis with men, equally capable and receiving equal salaries, and we would not say that it is not for woman to earn a living: far from it. It is only when the work she does unfits her for higher spheres or detracts from the gentle- 204 THE MERCURY. ness, modesty and virtue that is the true heritage of every woman. The demands of the century are many, and it would be im-possible to discuss them all. I have treated only those which are most evident. But now let us consider, finally, the demand that woman shall be effective in bringing about a higher stand-ard of living. Many specific examples might be cited, as the Hull House, in Chicago, which has accomplished a wonderful work in the elevation of the people of the slums, mentally, morally, and physically. The work of the Woman's Mission-ary Society, and their Christian Association is well known to all. The Woman's Temperance Union is often scoffed at, but along what line have we made more progress than the lessen-ing of the curse of drunkenness ? Early in the last century liquor flowed freely at the harvesting, the dances, the weddings, and even at the funerals. Although drunkenness prevails today, there has been a great reformation along this line. This im-provement is universally attributed to the influence of woman. Considering the strength of this single argument, we could boldly affirm, that the world is growing better. " God's in His Heaven, all's well with the world." A MYSTERY SOLVED. LEVERING TYSON, '09. SOON after my graduation from Yale University, my thoughts turned to inventive channels. I left my home in New Haven and moved to Kansas. On a wide, barren stretch of prairie land in the outskirts of Topeka, I built a handsome residence and near by an observatory and a laboratory. I de-voted all my spare time to astronomical researches, and the heavens ever proved a source of interest and pleasure. There were two principal inventions which I contemplated ; the first—an exceptionally powerful light, whose rays would be brilliant enough to penetrate many, many miles through any obstacle; the second—an automatic shell, which, when hurled forth into space, would gain in velocity, the greater the oppos- THE MERCURY. 205 ing force. This latter was the result of many years of hard labor and concentrated thought. It was about seventeen feet long and five wide, and was shaped like a projectile. The outer shell was so constructed of scales or plates of steel, that they regulated a motor inside the shell and thus the velocity was increased when it struck an obstruction. This huge piece of mechanism was nearing completion, and was standing on a high scaffold a short distance from my lab-oratory. Not long after this, in the dead of night, I was awak-ened by a loud, fierce, crashing, I dressed immediately and hurried downstairs. My foreman began to pound on the door furiously and, when I answered his urgent summons, said that the scaffolding which supported the automatic shell, had given 'way, and that the shell had struck the ground and begun to bore into the earth. We hurried to the scene of action and found a hole five feet in diameter, reaching down, down, down, nobody knew where. After setting men to work to ascertain the depth of the shaft, I again retired. The men worked on, lowering a cord with a lead on the end. Late in the forenoon of the next day they struck bottom four-teen and one-half miles below the surface of the earth. I then decided to find out all I could about the course of my shell and why it had finally stopped. My first step was to lower a camera with electrical appliances into the shaft. The pictures were developed and those taken at different depths showed very interesting strata formations. Those, however, which were taken at the bottom of the shaft showed nothing but light, light, nothing but light. One pe-culiarity existed in every picture—every one had a dark blur in some part. This I finally decided was my shell. I finally hit upon an idea. My powerful Xray ! The very thing ! It was nearly completed and now everything was laid aside until it should be tested and proved a success. I sent away for the most powerful telescope made to examine the path of my light. This I erected above the mouth of the shaft, and under the balcony on which it rested, were the pow-erful batteries of this wonderful light. 206 THE-MERCURY. It was ready for a trial in a few: weeks' time, and the time had come, as I thought, to solve the mystery of the light. I stationed myself just above the mouth of the shaft and turned the switch. With a tremenduous hiss, the enclosure was brilliantly illuminated with the ray. I finally lowered it and it slowly ate its way downward, seeming to devour layer after layer of rock and bed after bed of coal and other products of nature hidden beneath the earth's surface. . This continued for nearly half an hour, when suddenly my ray did not disclose anything. There was the bright beam seemingly penetrating into the depths of the earth. I ordered my foreman to turn on all power possible. He complied with my requests but all ef-forts were fruitless. That steady, glow still met my gaze at the end of my glass and there was always a small dark corner projecting into view. Again I was baffled by the strange light, at a loss as to its meaning. I returned to spend a sleep-less night, tossing from side to side in my vain efforts to solve the phenomenon. I finally dozed off, I reached a conclusion while I slept, and it seemed that in the few hours I rested, my brain was still active. I would descend the shaft. As soon as I awoke I summoned my foreman, told him my resolution and put him in full charge of constructing a huge hoisting engine and a car the exact shape of my shell. Preparations were completed in a little less than seven months, I named a day when I was to descend into the earth's depths and final arrangements were at length completed. I entered the car and began to descend slowly, down, down, down. The car was so constructed that you could see on all sides while the descent was being made. My car Was comfortably constructed and elaborately fitted out. I had a telephone at my elbow and conversed with my foreman about many matters while I slowly descended. I passed through coal beds, and stratum upon stratum of rock and sandstone. These wonders I reported to my foreman who took notes so that, if any acci-dent occurred, my venture would still be of some use to scien-tists. I finally reached the bottom of the shaft safely after a most interesting journey. THE MERCURY. 207 No sooner had I struck bottom,* than a blinding glare met my eyes. It was several moments before I could see objects distinctly. I then noticed that the light was all about me. My car was suspended in space, and was in a cavern about twenty feet above my shell, lying on its side, not injured in the least by its strenuous journey. I directed my car to be slowly lowered until it was but several inches above the shell. The light still puzzled me. My shell rested upon it, but as far as •eye could see there was that unconquerable light, that light that had baffled me so often. .1 stepped from my car to the shell, but still kept firm hold of the bottom of the car. Low-ering myself gradually I finally stood on the light. Noticing some small pieces of some substance lying at my feet I picked them up and to my astonishment found that these fragments of " light " were pure diamond. I gathered several more speci-mens of " light" and, seized with a sudden fear; again entered my car and was slowly drawn upward. The problem was deeper than before, the mystery was not yet solved. As I slowly ascended to the upper air, the revelation of the whole matter buist upon me. The earth, like most of the other planets was, in the primaeval age, part of the tail of a •comet. Her whole interior was a solid diamond and this was charred and burned by the action of the elements. The upper crust was nothing more than an accumulation of ashes during many, many stages of natural development. At last every-thing seemed plain to me. I finally reached the upper air. Closeting myself for three months I prepared a book containing my views. Naturally this created a sensation in the scientific world. After a com-mittee of college professors and noted scientists visited my works and inspected the shaft I ordered it closed by the use of dynamite. Much to my satisfaction 'my theory was finally verified. The diamonds brought from the earth's depths were bought by a syndicate of kings and remained in their possession for many centuries. THE MERCURY Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class Matter VOL. XIV GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1906 No. 7 Editor-in-chief WARD B. S. RICE, '07 Exchange Editor THOS. E. SHEARER, '07 Business Manager THOMAS A. FAUST, '07 Ass't Bus. Managers. HENRY M. BOWER, '08 H. WATSON DAVISON. 'OS Associate Editors GEO. W. KESSLER, '08 J. K. ROBB, '08 EDMUND L. MANGES, '08 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, LITT.D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D.D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Busi-ness Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. One of the Y. M. C. A. COURSE. most ed. uca-tional and cultivating features of the college year is* about to be-gin, that of the Y. M. C. A. Course. Through the manage-ment of this branch of work a course of performances has been arranged which no one who is-interested in the rareties of lite can well afford to miss. It consists of a good variety of lec-tures, musicals and recitals, given by some of the most highly THE MERCURY. 209 skilled artisans of the season. As promoters of the educa-tional and literary spirit, we would urge all, especially students, to attend these intellectual feasts. The committee in charge have gone to no little trouble, and have assumed no little-risk in scheduling these numbers, for which they deserve much credit and loyal support. The cause for which this course is promoted would alone be worthy of our aid ; but when duty is so coupled with an extraordinary privilege, it should martial an unusual support. In taking advantage of this course we not only help a good cause, but adds very* materially to our gen-eral and aesthetic knowledge. DUTY. If you are a a member of this or that activity, what are you doing? Is the activity indebted to you, or are you indebted to it? In other words : Are you doing your duty ? We are all a little inclined to shift a responsibility, if we can, and we believe that it is due to this fact that the proper spirit is lacking in some departments, especially the literary. How many of us, when asked to serve on the society program, have not said: "It doesn't suit me this week, I don't have time?" There are, no doubt, many valid excuses given, but in a num-ber of cases, is it not simply an effort to avoid the task ? How many, when asked to contribute to the monthly journal, have not said : " Oh, I can't write; " or, " I don't have the time ?'' Again there may be legitimate reasons, but many times it is merely a way of putting it off. Other instances may be cited in which we are too ready to shirk our duty. Is this not more of a habit than anything else? We are so accustomed to excusing ourselves that we often give some excuse when we consent with the next breath. Let us break away from this ; when asked to perform a reasonable task, consider it a duty and do it, unless a plausible excuse can be offered. Many ot these departments are of our own institution ; and they will succeed only in so far as they are supported by their constituents. Therefore, when asked to do a service, let us not say we do not have time—others may be as busy as we—but remember it is our duty. 2IO THE MERCURY. It is the consensus of opinion that Gettysburg has played a remarkable game this foot ball season, having lost but one game. Her success was proven not to be the result of force and brute strength, but of good coaching and a team with a capacity for being coached. It is not our intention to discuss the game as played, but to emphasize an-other factor to which we attribute much of the success ; one whose value is sometimes underestimated ; one which is very rare in the case of athletic teams, especially successful ones. It is one which is highly commendable and worthy of example. All are well aware of the fact that at most universities and colleges there are a certain number of players who are contin-ually " cutting " classes, that is not including trips and times when they are obliged to absent themselves. We are glad to say that this was not the case at Gettysburg. The intellectual was not sacrificed to the physical. It can be said with all sin-cerity that the men who represented Gettysburg on the Grid-iron this season were men who were here for an education and of no mean standing in their class work; not one of them were here especially to play foot-ball. We believe then that the success in a large measure lay in the fact that the school was represented not by mere residents, but real students; men who have the true college spirit and a deep sense of interest in their Alma Mater. This is a record to be envied; let us keep it up, the success and honor will be the greater for it. As is customary, on account of the winter vacation, there will be no January issue of the MERCURY. Lack of space prevents the publication of the usual exchange column in this issue. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISER'S FURNITURE Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. * Telephone No. 97. EE_ IB. :i3e:cLd.ez 37 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. The Windsor Hotel 1217=2 Filbert St., Philadelphia. Headquarters for Students. Thoroughly Renovated, Refurnished and Remodeled FRANK M. SCHEIBLEY, Manager. Graduate of Lafayette College 1898. A. G. Spalding & Bros. Largest Manufacturers in the World of Official Athletic Supplies Base Bali Lawn Tennis Foot Bali Archery Roque Quoits Cricket Lacrosse Golf Implements for all Sports Spalding's Official Base Ball Guide for 1906. Edited by Henry Chadwick. The most complete and up-to-date book ever published on the subject. Fully illustrated. Price 10 Cents. Spalding's Official League Ball is the adopted ball of the National League, and must be used in all match games. Every requisite for Lawn Ten-nis and Golf. For over a quarter of a century Spalding's Trade-Mark on Base Ball implements has marked the advancement in this particular sport. Spalding's Trade Mark on our Athletic Implement gives you an advantage over the other player as you have a better article, lasts longer, gives more satisfaction. Every Base Ball Manager should send at once/or a copy of Spalding's Spring and Sum-mer Catalogue—FREE. A. G. SPALDING 6 BROS. New York, Chicago, Boston, Buffalo, Washington, San Francisco, Philadelphia, Kansas City, Montreal, Canada, New Orleans, London England, Denver, Pittsburg. Cincinnati, Syracuse, St. Louis, Minneapolis, Baltimore, Hamburg, Germany PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. in's For busy people. No bother. Tills itself. Cleans itself. No dropper. Nothing to take apart. Nothing to spill. A dip in ink, a touch of thumb to nickel cres-cent and the pen is full, ready to write. AH the best dealers everywhere— Stationers, Druggists, Jewelers—handle the Conklin Pen or can supply it if you in-sist upon having it. Costs no more than other fountain pens of best grade. 100 styles and s'zes to select from shown in our catalog furnished free upon request. Any make or style of fountain pen repaired promptly. THE CONKLIN PEN CO. 514-516-518 Jefferson Ave., Toledo, Ohio. Sole Manufacturers Conklin Self-Filling Pen PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. EMIL ZOTHE COLLEGE EMBLEMS Engraver, Designer and Manufacturing Jeweler, 722 CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA Specialties: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes All Goods ordered through F. A. Faust. .s. Dealer in E Picture Frames of All Sorts. Repair work done promptly. i^*I will also buy or exchange any second-hand, furniture 40hamberaburgSt., GETTYSBURG, PA. SEFTON & FLEMMINGS LIVERY Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arrangements by telegram or letter. Lock Box 257. J. I. MUMPER. 41 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. The improvements to our Studio have proven a perfect success and we are now better prepared than ever to give you satisfactory work. Under New Management The Peoples Drug Store Invites you to visit tliem and select your needs from a fresh, new, and up-to-date stock. ■ C. WM. BEALES, Ph.G., Prop. 1). J. Swartz Country Produce ,,e!'Tn Groceries Shoes I^epaifed -BY— Cigars and Tooacco GETTYSBURG. I J. H. BAKER, 115 Baltimore St., near Court House. Good Work Guaranteed. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. HOTEL GETTYSBURG HEADQUARTERS FOR BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. RATES 83.00 PER DAY. Livery jPLttacrixeci. ZrPzroprietor. *pi?e

Issue 54.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1995. ; 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 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 ¯ \Vashington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 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 perlnission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional protnotion, 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 Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 166 180 Jiving reJigious ife Come Follow Me: Reflections on Some Current Theories of Religious Life Elizabeth McDonough OP suggests that the healthiness of religious life is not so much a matter of reconciling consecration and mission as it is a matter of finding a consistency between the espoused and operative values of a congregation. The Fruits of Consultation: The 1994 Synod's Instrumentum Laboris Rose McDermott SSJ presents evidence for the effectiveness of the consultative process in the formulation of the 1994 synod's working document. 192 196 being church Ash Wednesday and Faith's Grounding Kevin Richter reflects on the meaning of Ash Wednesday as ushering us into a season in which we seek to realize ourselves as "holy ground." The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal Erik Riechers SAC sketches out four attitudes that we need to make our own as we continue our efforts at church renewal. from the tradition 207 Providence Revisited Robert P. Maloney CM examines the place of providence in the spirituality of St. Vincent de Paul and makes contemporary applications. 224 Beguine Women: Medieval Spirituality, Modern Implications Marygrace Peters OP considers the Beguines as they appear on the stage of history, their growth and demise, and their spiritual legacy. 237 Stirred to Profound Gratitude Gerald M. Fagin SJ develops the Ignatian insight on the importance of gratitude in a growing intimacy with God. 162 Review for Religious 253 261 growing in prayer Models of Faith Sharing Martin Pable OFMCap underlines the importance of faith sharing for community life and suggests some methods of keeping it lively. Progress in Prayer Francis J. Ring SJ reviews the stages of maturing in prayer from traditions and personal experience. 276 279 experience in the Jord Midlife Tumor Se~in Sammon FMS ponders the meaning of a serious medical diagnosis in the midst of a busy apostolic life. Our Friendship in the Lord A religious priest and a woman religious share their experience of deep friendship in the context of their commitment to God and to their religious community. 283 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1994 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, collaborating with Eduardo C. Fernfindez sJ, presents a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 164 Prisms 301 Canonical Counsel: The Document on Community Life: Congregavit Nos in Unum Christi Amor 308 Book Reviews March-April 1995 163 pris s Shortly after I was appointed editor of Review for Religious in 1988, I spent time brows-ing through each issue of every volume from the journal's beginning in 1942 up to the current volume. What I dis-covered was an amazing chronicle of developments in reli-gious life and ministry over the past half century. The first article in the January 1942 was titled "Religious Consecration." Today it seems very contem-porary in view of the church's predilection for the term consecrated life in its new Code and in Roman documents during the 1980s and '90s. Spiritual direction was the theme most emphasized in the early 1940s, with some five articles and comments; the theme of vocations was sec-ond. Both topics receive even greater attention today. Psychological testing of candidates for religious life was taken up by articles in 1949 and into the early '50s. One religious superior wrote an indignant letter canceling his subscription, asserting that such testing interferes with the work of the Holy Spirit. A similar flurry of negative response came to the suggestion that religious should take time for vacations--a suggestion made in 1947. One reli-gious woman wrote strongly against this idea because Jesus, Mary, and the saints never had a vacation. As early as 1944 the first reflection about the adaptation of the religious habit for women was written, with subsequent articles through the 1950s, prompting a res~ponse by the canon lawyer Father Joseph Gallen SJ to the question "Why has Review for Religious emphasized so frequently the simplification of the habit of religious women?" His answer in 1957 was that we were trying to stir up some 164 Review for Religious response to the repeated calls from Pope Pius XII and various Roman curia congregations for change in the light of poverty, hygiene, and adaptation to our times. Although we seem to be in a different place, the topic still remains current. The first article written by a layman was in January 1962 (Vatican II began on 11 October 1962) and was entitled "Notes toward Lay Spirituality." In the next issue appears the first arti-cle by a laywoman, "Restoration with a Difference"--about a sec-ular institute in Washington, D.C. In 1969 we find the first of many articles on the guided or directed retreat. Almost twefity years ago, in 1976, the beginnings of the feminist emphasis are reflected in an article titled "Womanhood: A Selected Bibliography." From these few examples I hope that our readers can appre-ciate how challenges and developments have been recorded through the variety of articles and authors found in Review for Religious over the fifty years of its publication. The editorial staff and the advisory board now are inviting all our readers to an opportunity to enter into their own kind of survey of topics. We are publishing a new book, IND,; it provides a topical and author index for all the volumes of Review for Religious from 1942 through 1994. Since the world synod of bishops with its theme "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in 'the Church and in the World" was held in October 1994, it seems fitting to provide the unique perspective of our journal's articles over the past fifty years. INDEX will be a resource for current members of religious congregations and for candidates and novices in religious forma-tion programs. Historians and researchers and people fascinated by the phenomenon of religi6us life will find this book a valu-able tool. Our readers will find an advertisement and order form for INDEX on the last page of this issue. We hope that this book will bring us all to a greater appreciation of religious life in the church. David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1995 165 ELIZABETH McDONOUGH Come Follow Me: Reflections on Some Current Theories of Religious Life religious One among an array of recent church documents on religious life, Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation Redemptionis donum (1984) presents a theology of religious profession in the context of the economy of salvation. It points out that the gospel consistently invites a response beyond the fulfillment of minimal commands and encour-ages behaviors that reflect a redemptive and Christocentric commitment. From the perspective of Redemptionis donum, religious profession inclines a person to overcome the world not in a haphazard fashion, but specifically in the likeness of Jesus Christ (§9). Above all, RD sees the primacy of being as the anthro-pological basis for a gospel vocation. That is, RD empha-sizes being over producing, possessing, and controlling. This primacy of being should produce for religious a lifestyle centered on the true value of the human person. It should witness to the mystery of redemption in the face of the widespread materialism, violence, moral erosion, and human exploitation that the world labors under today (§4). The new and fuller consecration of religious profes-sion, rooted in the sacrament of baptism, means that a person is entirely and freely given to God in a "particular style of life, witness, and apostolate, in fidelity to the mis- Elizabeth McDonough OP adapted this article from the pre-sentation she made at the 2nd International Symposium of Law of Religious held at the Catholic University of Lublin, 17-18 October 1994. She is the canon law editor of our journal. Her address is P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. 166 Review for Religious sion of [an] institute and to its identity and spiritual heritage" (§7). Chastity should provide an eschatological witness that makes transcendent realities present in the midst of temporal concerns (§11). Poverty should be clearly salvific and enable religious to enrich people, beyond any material giving, by becoming through poverty "a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God" (§12). Obedience should have the redemptive potential of furthering growth in holiness through a continuous search for and response to the will of God in a manner similar to the obe-dience of Christ, which "constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption" (§13). Religious put their gifts at the service of the church through their own community by sharing in the mission entrusted to it by the hierarchy. Within the religious family, community life demonstrates caring for one another and bearing one another's burdens as true disciples of Jesus. The fundamental value of reli-gious, however, always consists in who they are rather than in what they do (§15). In Redemptionis donum it is clear that the wit-ness of religious life is primarily that of leading the world towards the definitive fulfillment for which all of creation longs, a fulfill-ment that will ultimately be found in God alone (§14). Earlier documents of the magisterium present similar notions of religious life. Vatican II's.dogmatic constitution Lumen gen-tium states that "the religious state of life., manifests in a spe-cial way the transcendence of the kingdom of God and its requirements over all earthly things" (§44). LG sees the primary value of religious life not in terms of sign or witness or service, but rather in terms of the sanctifying and redemptive reality of reli-gious life as intrinsic to the life and holiness of the church itself.1 The conciliar document Christus Dominus is even more explicit. Regarding the obligation of religious "to work zealously and diligently for the building up and growth of the whole Mystical Body of Christ and for the good of the particular churches," CD states: "It is their duty to promote these objec-tives primarily by means of prayer, works of penance, and the example of their own lives" (§33). Perfectae caritatis, the Vatican II document specifically dealing with religious, presents the focus of religious life as seeking and loving God "above all else" because God "has first loved us." Religious are called to "foster a life hidden with Christ in God" as the "source and stimulus" of everything they do.2 March-April 199Y 167 McDonougb * Come Follow Me As regards religious profession's deepest meaning, the magisterium clearly highlights, in a noncontradictory way, consecration as more fundamental than mission, being as more fundamental than having, and witness as more fundamental than service. Mutuae relationes, issued in 1980 jointly by the Congregations for Bishops and for Religious and Secular Institutes, notes that both "religious and their communities are called to give clear tes-timony in the church of total dedication to God. This is the fun-damental option of their Christian existence and their primary duty in their distinctive way of life" (§14a, citing LG §31). The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life, issued in 1981, states that contemplation bears witness "to the primacy of the personal relationship with God" and is "the unifying act of all human movement towards God." It sees prayer as "the indispensable breath" of religious life and asks that all religious cultivate "an atti-tude of continuous and hum-ble adoration of .God's mysterious presence in people, events, and things" (§ 1). CDRL urges "integration between interiority and activity" and cautions that the "first duty" of all religious is "being with Christ" (§§2, 4, and 5). Religious and Human Pro-motion, also issued in 1981, states that motivation for apos-tolic involvement should be based on (a) fidelity to the original purpose of one's reli-gious institute in the church, (b) witness to the gospel regarding the dignity and pur-pose of work, (c) comlnitment to the religious (original emphasis) dimension of one's life as expressing a radical experience of the kingdom, and (d) sharing in the daily challenge of community as expressing Christ's love (§8). Thus the motivation for, the manner of, and the limits on apostolic activity of religious must always flow from and be cir-cumscribed by one's consecration to God and consequent service of the church in and through a particular religious family. 168 Review for Religious According to RHP, religious involve themselves in the workplace not primarily as certified professionals, but primarily as bearers of pastoral concern (§9). In summary fashion, the theology of religious life gleaned from these documents places dedication to service squarely in the context of the gift of self accepted by the church. Even more basi-cally, as regards religious profession's deepest meaning, the mag-isterium clearly highlights, in a noncontradictory way, consecration as more fundamental than mission, being as more fundamental than having, and witness as more fundamental than service. Thus, the public vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience are supposed to render each religious both more able and more willing to man-ifest, in a personal way, the primacy of consecration over produc-tion, of being over possession, and of witness over power in a world dominated by forces of production, possession, and power. Conciliar and postconciliar documents offer no firm founda-tion, then, for the notion that there is in religious life any inher-ent conflict between consecration and mission. It is suggested by some current authors, however, that primacy of consecration and being and witness falsely places consecration before mission and introduces a new version of the dichotomy between the contem-plative and the active life and between monastic and apostolic aspects of religious life as such. Some of these current opinions on religious life are noted briefly here. Various Current Concepts of Religious Life A recent analysis of religious life by Jesuit George Aschen-brenner concludes that it is basically apostolic with tendencies towards monastic or active expressions. He suggests that every person and group can be located on the continuum of "a long clothesline" to which God attaches them like "a clothespin., to some part of the line.''3 His theological reason for a universal apostolic spirituality with two manifestations seems fair enough: "In the sense of a serious commitment to and involvement with our world, every disciple of Jesus must be intensely apostolic" (p. 655). This is true. But Aschenbrenner proceeds to r~duce all Christian spirituality and indeed all religious life to either a "monastic apostolic dynamic" or an "active apostolic dynamic." His division is more than a little inadequate, as well as somewhat contrived and even pejorative. March-April 1995 169 McDonougb ¯ Come Follow Me In a rather negative comparison, Aschenbrenner presents the monastic dynamic as determined by formal prayer, as influenced by order and routine, as set apart from the world, as based on stability and solitude, and as centered on physical presence in community (pp. 657-660). In contrast he presents the apostolic dynamic as determined by ministry, as based on flexibility for change, as able to find and serve God in all activity, as being mobile and available, and as providing unity beyond mere phys-ical presence (pp. 660-664). In Aschenbrenner's view, active reli-gious life simply must be "demonasticized" for it to experience authentic renewal. Another current analysis, by Brazilian Jesuit Marcello Azevedo, says that the distinctive character of religious life is "not the vocation to holiness (common to all Christians), but the pub-lic profession--recognized, legitimized, and appreciated by the church-- of the will to live fully and radically the gospel plan, coherently aria as the primary objective of one's life" (original emphasis).4 Thus its qualitative character identifies and justifies a religious vocation among many vocations in the church. At first, this qualitative emphasis seems similar to the view of Redemptionis donum. But, Azevedo notes, if religious life is deter-mined by this specifically qualitative identity, then no particular activity and no specific style of action, as such, can ever deter-mine religious life. The logical consequence, in practice, is that "every form of activity within the church and the world has always been, and should always be, open to religious" (p. 9). Thus Azevedo views religious life as currently "snarled and blocked" by a "juridical apparatus" that should not apply to its prophetic and charismatic nature in the first place. Indeed, from his perspective, the assertion of Lumen gentium that consecrated life does not belong to the hierarchical struc-ture of the church is understood to mean that religious life is dis-tinguished primarily by its own internal consistency (p. 9). In his subsequent analysis, Azevedo presents all religious life in terms of a single and particular internal consistency, namely, an orientation toward mission similar to Aschenbrenner's encompassing apos-tolic dynamic. Even the understanding of obedience as exercised in the apostolic organization of the Jesuits is considered equally applicable to all religious institutes, including monastics (pp. 80 and 88-89, n. 4). In a thoroughly pragmatic approach, Christian Brother Louis 170 Review for Religious DeThomasis analyzes religious life from a business perspective. Everything, he says, is achieved through management; and every-thing in religious life, from performance to purpose to resources, should be transformed to his "alternative paradigms" suggested by a successful business. In these transformed paradigms, community members are considered "stakeholders," rituals are rendered effec-tive in "social justice," and divine providence is replaced by "human potential.''s The church, according to DeThomasis, is basically a safety net to "help the people of God deal with the fundamental issues of their lives" and to "help them climb the hierarchy of needs toward self-actualization" (pp. 71 and 84). In religious life, as in any profit-oriented, capitalistic system, the "client. defines the relationship between those who are served and the religious who . . . provide needed services" (p. 41). In theory these ideas of DeThomasis may sound quite pagan. In fact, they are amazingly popular today in some religious circles. Another author, Australian Marist Gerald Arbuclde, writes extensively on the topic of "refounding" religious life and pre-. sents a totally anthropological concept of it.6 Refounding by prophetic persons is needed, he says, because in recent centuries religious life became based on assumptions contrary to its origi-nal vision. These contrary assumptions are a view of the world as evil, a sense of spiritual elitism, and uncritical support of the ecclesiastical status quo.7 ' According to Arbuckle (Out of Chaos, p. 48), religious life actually originates in "liminality." That is, it arises from an intrin-sically unstable state requiring one to embrace meaninglessness or chaos for the sake of expanded possibilities. Answers to the chaos engendered in the aftermath of Vatican II are to be found in (a) rediscovery of the power of Christ within, (b) renewed vitality identified with the power of the founding myth, (c) renewed fresh-ness of the role of religious life in the forefront of creativity, and (d) responding to the spiritual or pastoral needs of people (pp. 93-94). Arbuckle describes the current reaction of religious com-munities to the challenge of refounding in terms of "prophetic" or "escapist" tribal models borrowed from anthropology. In the prophetic model, which Arbuckle clearly favors, Christ's mission has priority over survival of the community ("Prophecy," p. 336). True, of course. Any role, however, for consecration in relation to religious life is notably absent in his analysis. Both his starting point and his ending are purely human realities. March-April 1995 171 McDonougb ¯ Come Follolv Me Irish Sacred Heart Father Diarmuid O'Murchu uses Arbuckle's ideas of liminality and refounding. O'Murchu presents religious life as a purely liminal and prophetic movement that belongs, not to thechurch, but to the world. His definition of vowed life is so global, so inclusive, so psychological, and so the-ologically different that it warrants direct quotation: "The vowed life is a creation of the collective unconscious; it is a dimension of the liminal space that human beings have invented and continue to create in order to express and articulate their deepest aspira-tions.'' 8 One might suggest that, if this did not so closely resem-ble the thought of certain Enlightenment philosophers and theologians, it could be considered the well-intentioned asser-tion of an enthusiastic adolescent coping for the first time with an experience of God. The purpose O'Murchu sees for religious life, however, is anything but naive or adolescent. His position is quite political in combining aspects of liberation theology with liminality. The task of religious, for O'Murchu, is that of being "change agents" and "social catalysts." These roles will be fostered, he says, once reli-gious (1) recognize the inadequacy of the mildly revised 13th-century theology offered by Vatican Council II and (2) replace "intellectually and spiritually naive" theories of the development of religious life with a theology based on experience (pp. 54 and 59). O'Murchu reduces celibacy to intimacy, reduces obedience to listening, reduces poverty to sharing, reduces community to rela-tionships, and reduces prayer to a source of social activity. Perhaps not surprisingly, he also reduces Jesus Christ to a very minor role in religious life and to an incidental foundation for his thoughts. A highly detailed and significant sociological analysis of reli-gious life in the United States has recently been published by Vincentian Father David Nygren and St. Joseph Sister Miriam Ukeritis. This is commonly known as the FORUS study, from the acronym for its complete title: The Future of Religiorts Orders in the United States. The study was conducted from 1989 through 1992 and was funded by an independent research foundation. It had initial and ongoing cooperation from the then existing con-ferences of major superiors, and it included congregations rep-resenting over 125,000 men and women religious.9 Reference to the FORUS study is not intended to present reli-gious life in the United States as normative for religious life else-where in the world. It is to recognize, however, that religious in 172 Review for Religious the United States can have a certain influence on the views of many religious elsewhere, especially in the English-speaking world. The FORUS study explicitly identifies and directly chal-lenges some of the prevailing opinions espoused by both men and women religious in America regarding the trends and conse-quences of renewal since Vatican Council II. Indeed, its findings challenge some of the perceptions of religious life presented by authors mentioned above. The FORUS study admits that the degree of change for religious in the United States has been dras-tic since Vatican II. It acknowledges that many of the effects of post-conciliar renewal may not be within what was originally intended (p. 225). In keeping with a recent trend in analyzing religious life, the study employs paradigms--descrip-tive sociological models--to explain various observable phenomena related to renewal.1° Its final rec-ommendations rather bluntly sug-gest that the present task for religious is primarily to "demon-strate credible witness with little discrepancy between what they espouse and how they act" (p. 239). The FORUS study indicates that most religious communities have been in a multifaceted "interpretive" paradigm for about a quarter century. This means that there are subjective and com-peting worldviews espoused by groups within most communities and that these groups more or less vie with each other for a pro-portionate share of community resources and for proportionate control of decision-making authority. Now, however, according to Nygren and Ukeritis, communities are moving in the direction of one or another of two basic orientations.~ The FORUS study refers to these two basic orientations by the technical sociologi-cal terms "functionalist" and "structuralist" paradigms. In rela-tion to religious life, it may be more helpful to refer to these respective orientations as traditional and progressive, without, The FORUS study explicitly identifies and directly challenges some of the prevailing opinions espoused by both men and women religious in America regarding the trends and consequences of renewal since Vatican Council II. March-April 1995 173 McDonougb * Come Follow Me however, attaching positive or negative connotations to these descriptive labels. Communities which are tending toward the traditional ori-entation for religious institutes (or toward the "functionalist" paradigm, in sociological terms) seek an ordered and rather reg-ulated environment based on a single identity that is manifest through work or attire or clear membership boundaries or all of these aspects. These communities use incremental-change mech-anisms and operate on the basis of a product economy. That is, they identify perduring needs as worthy of ministry in keeping with their charism. They tend to establish institutions, or gradu-ally adapt already existing ones, in order to meet these perduring needs. They prepare vowed members for ministry as qualified personnel within or in relation to these institutions, which in turn both support and express various aspects of their charism. The FORUS study suggests that communities such as the Little Sisters of the Poor, Benedictine monks, and the Daughters of Charity are in this functionalist (that is, traditional) orientation that favors convergen.ce in ministry and lifestyle along with continuous incre-mental change (p. 227). Communities that are tending toward the progressive orien-tation for religious institutes (or toward the "structuralist" paradigm, in sociological terms) assume that there is a need to overcome, through empowerment of the oppressed for social change, the organizational domination exercised by certain seg-ments of society. These communities use dramatic reorientation programs and operate on the basis of a market economy. That is, they respond to prevailing needs in various locations as express-ing individual but interdependent manifestations of their charism. They tend to avoid institutional commitments, both in what may formerly have been their own institutions and in related institu-tional settings. They foster broad-based and open-ended min-istry preparation and individual apostolic placement, which in turn often require major internal readjustment and new expres-sions of various aspects of their charism. The FORUS study sug-gests that communities such as the Sisters of Loretto, the Sisters of St. Joseph, and the Alexian Brothers are in this structuralist (that is, progressive) orientation that favors radical and somewhat discontinuous reorganization of ministries and lifestyles (p. 228). More significant, however, are findings of the FORUS study that stem from and relate to the different orientations just 174 Review for Religious described. The data indicates that most members of most reli-gious orders in the United States have simply ass~med that a prod-uct- oriented approach of continuous incremental change for religious life is inadequate for meeting contemporary needs. At the same time, they have simply assumed that a market-oriented approach involving major reorganization will be efficacious for religious life as it enters the third millennium. In other words, to use more common parlance, there is a certain fore-gone conclusion that the for-mer structures and functions of religious life are simply out-dated and inadequate for meet-ing needs in the world of today and that only new structures and functions will guarantee a future for religious life (p. 229). Other findings of the study, however, indicate that efforts at radical reorganization in pro-gressive communities have often failed. They have simply been eclipsed by internal con-cerns about financial limita-tions, loss of institutions, decreased personnel, aging membership, and diversified ¯ ministries. In contrast, FORUS findings show that efforts at convergent, incremental change in traditional communities have often been successful. They have sustained a pattern of serving the poor with integrated services delivered from a context of distinct purpose, centralized govern-ment, characteristic ministry, external identification, and com-mon practices. It should also be noted that FORUS places current feminist agendas in the structuralist (that is, progressive) orien-tation and identifies two conferences of major superiors in America as openly advocating this orientation.12 Note the striking correlation between the predominant struc-turalist (that is, progressive) orientation identified in the FORUS study and much of the prevailing literature on religious life.13 Most members of most religious orders in the United States have simply assumed that a product-oriented approach of continuous incremental change for religious life is inadequate for meeting contemporary needs. March-April 1995 175 McDonough * Come Follow Me As has been seen, Azevedo suggests that any and every form of activity should be open to religious so long as their way of life manifests an "inner consistency." In the same vein, Mercy Sister Doris Gottemoeller, immediate past present of LCWR and audi-tor at the 1994 Synod of Bishops, recently defined religious life as being constituted entirely by fidelity to a self-defined and self-chosen inner consistency. DeThomasis advocates imaginative transformation to alternative paradigms so that religious life will have meaning in the 21st century. Arbuckle urges abandoning outdated structures in favor of total refounding in the chaotic aftermath of Vatican II. O'Murchu presents the task of religious as fostering social change emerging from their liminal experi-ence. The theory of prophetic liminality is completely adopted by Sister Anne Munley IHM in a study commissioned by LCWR which appeared immediately after the publication of the FORUS study and countered many of its findings. Munley obviously advo-cates the progressive orientation as identified by Nygren and Ukeritis and cautions against the "entrenchment" of previous forms of religious life; she promotes an "emerging paradigm" for the future and wants to see religious "breaking free from stag-nant relationships based on dominance and subordination." ,4 Regardless of the prevailing literature, however, the FORUS study articulates one transparent conclusion as valid for all reli-gious communities, whether their orientation is towards a struc-turalist (progressive) or a functionalist (traditional) paradigm. In sociological terms, that conclusion makes an explicit correlation between an institute's tradition and its response to the social and ecclesial environment. According to the FORUS conclusion, directed specifically to apostolic institutes, "those that are most responsive to pressing need and motivated by the love of Christ will be vitalized as long as their efforts are consistent with their tradition . Their purpose must be clear and their efforts to achieve, unencumbered . Until the external perception of apos-tolic religious orders is congruent with their self-definitions (that is, until they do what they profess), their membership is likely to remain limited in numbers and their social credibility will be threatened" (p, 2 3 5). Let me repeat the key elements of this conclusion: respon-siveness to pressing need; motivation deriving from the love of Christ; consistency with an institute's tradition; clarity of purpose; unencumbered efforts; and actions that match the institute's message. 176 Review for Religious In terms of the vowed life, the elements of this conclusion are closely related to the primacy of consecration, of being, and of witness as presented in the theology of the magisterium con-cerning religious life. This FORUS conclusion also touches the heart of the matter regarding real or apparent conflicts between consecration and mission in religious life. The FORUS findings are clear that, whatever may be the work of religious in the world, it is far less significant than their credibility in the world's eyes and that this credibility will always be threatened "until they do what they profess." So say the sociologists on the basis of data gathered from a study representing over 125,000 men and women religious in the United States of America. Points of Contact and Comparison Recall that in Redemptionis donum religious are called both to embrace the will of God totally and to overcome the world in the likeness of Jesus Christ (§9). Recall, too, that Religious and Human Promotion sees all religious life as being apostolic in response to the world. In parallel fashion, The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life presents all religious life as being contemplative in response to God. That is to say, there is no such thing as authentic activity for religious which is not fully informed by prayer, and there is no such thing as authentic life for religious themselves which is not thoroughly grounded in contemplation. Further, for practical situations, Religious and Human Promotion identifies four criteria--"four loyalties"--for the activity of all religious in bringing the gospel to bear on their response to authentic human need. These cri'teria are (1) fidelity to human-ity and to our times, (2) fidelity to Christ and to the gospel, (3) fidelity to the church and to its mission in the world, and (4) fidelity to religious life and to the charism of one's institute (§13). Documents of the magisterium concerning consecrated life, then, do not so much impose specific behaviors on religious as invite wholehearted and faithful responses from them. The FORUS conclusion mentioned above presents a very similar posi-tion, namely, that religious communities will survive and even thrive when they exhibit responsiveness to pressing need, moti-vation from the love of Christ, consistency with their tradition, clarity of purpose, unencumbered efforts, and actions that match March-April 1995 177 McDonougb ¯ Come Follow Me their message. The FORUS study identifies as necessary a recog-nizable consistency between the espoused and operative values of religious if they are to be credible witnesses in the world. Church documents call religious to this same consistency and witness. In contrast to some current theories of religious life, then, perhaps it is not so much a matter of reconciling consecration and mission--or even a matter of producing new theologies and new forms of religious life--as it is a matter of finding a proper balance and expression of the obligations religious have already embraced. Religious are not called upon either by the world or by the church to be anything other than who and what they are. Indeed, they are called upon to be precisely who and what they are, and they are called upon to do so precisely in the lived real-ivy of what they have professed. Notes ~ P. Molinari and P. Gumpel, Chapter VI of the Dogmatic Constitution "Lumen Gentium" on Religious Life, trans. M.P. Ewen (Rome: Gregorian University, 1987), pp. 154-163. 2 Perfectae caritatis §6. This emphasis for religious should not be a surprise, however, because Ad gentes §11 presents the witness of all Christians primarily as in their lives, not in their works. Good works, though, do flow from true Christian life: "All Christians by the example of their lives and the witness of the word, wherever they live, have an obliga-tion to manifest the 'new man' which they put on in baptism, and to reveal the power of the Holy Spirit by whom they were strengthened at confirmation" (emphasis added). 3 G. Aschenbrenner, "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," Review for Religious 45, no. 5 (September-October 1986): 653-668, at 656. 4 M. Azevedo, Vocation for Mission (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 8. s L. DeThomasis, Imaginations: A Future for Religious Life 0Ninona, Minnesota: Metanoia Group, 1992), p. 129. 6 G. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist Press, 1988). 7 Arbuckle, pp. 68-77. See also Arbuckle's article "Prophecy or Restorationism in Religious Life," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May- June 1993): 326-339. 8 D. O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991), p. 48. 9 D. Nygren and M. Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States (Westport, Connecticut: Praeger Publishers, 1993). Hereafter 178 Review for Religious cited as FORUS. An earlier, shorter version entitled "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary" appeared as the entire edition of Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992), and was published shortly there-after in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55. l0 An influential article among Americans regarding paradigm shifts was the historical and sociological analysis of Marianist Brothers L. Cada and R. Fitz, "The Recovery of Religious Life," Review for Religious 34, no. 5 (September-October 1975): 690-718. This article was later expanded into a book, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (New York: Seabury Press, 1979). Fitz and Cada rely heavily on, but do not cite, the work of R. Hostie, Vie et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Desclde, 1972). The paradigm-shift theory can be traced to T. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970). For a critique of the application of paradigm shifts to religious life, see E. McDonough, "The Past Is Prologue: Quid Agis?" in Review for Religious 51, no. 1 (1992): 78-97, especially 90-93. " Characteristics of these orientations are treated in summary form in FORUS, pp. 226-230, and in more detail in chap. 1 of the study, pp. 2- 15. ,2 See FORUS, pp. 226 and 229, respectively. The latter may be a sig-nificant finding since both the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) and the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) were directly involved in the three-year FORUS survey and had repre-sentatives on the FORUS advisory board. That is to say, the FORUS study seems to have identified a role exercised by CMSM and LCWR somewhat beyond that which is envisioned for such conferences by Vatican II and in church law: See Perfectae caritatis §42-§43;Mutuae relationes §21; and CIC, canon 708. ,3 On the other hand, there are some works supporting the function-alist or traditional orientation of the FORUS study. Research by Immaculate Heart of Mary Sister Eleace King supports the ability of tra-ditional communities to attract and keep new members. See her intro-ductory sections to the CARA Formation Directory (Washington, D.C.: Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate) for the years 1991, 1992, 1993, and 1994-1995. Albert DiIanni, vicar general of the Marist Fathers from 1985 to 1993, has written a series of articles whose content lends objective support to the functionalist (or traditional) orientation. These cover such topics as the influence of modernity on religious vows, God as the proper object of religion, and the significance of current vocation trends. These articles have recently been collected and published in A. Dilanni, Religious Life as Adventure: Renewal, Refounding, or Refo~wt? (New York: Alba House, 1994). See also, E. McDonough, "Juridical Deconstruction of Religious Institutes," Studia Canonica 26 (1992): 307- 341, and "Charisms and Religious Life," Review for Religious 52, no. 5 (September-October 1993): 648-659. ,4 A. Munley, Threads for the Loom: LCFVR Planning and Ministry Studies (Silver Spring, Maryland: LCWR, 1992), pp. 1, 11, and 12. March-April 199~ 179 ROSE McDERMOTT The Fruits of Consultation: The 1994 Synod's Instrumentum Laboris During most of October 1994, bishops and other partici-pants of the ninth ordinary session of the Synod of Bishops discussed "Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." The remote preparation for this assembly was the Lineamenta issued 20 November 1992, in which twenty-five questions on the topic of consecrated life were addressed to the worldwide church by the Vatican Synod Secretariat.~ Following this consultation, the same secretariat released the Instrurnentum laboris or working paper for the synod on 20 June 1994.2 This is the text that guided the synod's participants in their discussions on consecrated life. The purpose of this article is to note some of the Instru-menturn's significant revisions (vis-a-vis the Lineamenta) that resulted from the worldwide consultation. An overview of the format of the Instrumenturn and some observations on the revisions in comparison with the Lineamenta will show the positive results effected by the consultative process, which engaged the entire ecclesial community. The Format of the Instrumentum Laboris The Instrumentum laboris, composed of 111 paragraphs and 268 endnotes, is significantly longer than the Lineamenta, which Rose McDermott SSJ is a faculty member of the Department of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America. Her address is Holy Trinity Convent; 1554 35th Street N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20007. 180 Review for Religious contained 47 paragraphs and 130 endnotes. Like the Lineamenta, the working paper has an introduction and a conclusion; how-ever, the Instrumentum is divided into four parts, in contrast to the Lineamenta's three. The length of the Instrumentum can be attributed to the discussion, in part 2 (§§41-65), of consecrated life within the context of the mystery of Christ and the church and the expansion, in part 4 (§§86-110), of the section on the role of con-secrated life in the mission of the church. These two sections of the Instrumenturn are the more significant revisions and improve-ments of part 1, section 1 (§§5-13), and part 3, section 2 (§§42- 44), of the Lineamenta. The Lineamenta began with a presentation of the nature and identity of consecrated life, moved on to a reflection on its wit-ness and activity in the church and world today, and concluded with a hope for the future role of consecrated life in the mission of the church. The Instrumentum, on the other hand, begins with an examination of the spiritual and pastoral characteristics of con-secrated life today, moves to a theological presentation of this vocation within the mystery of Christ and the ecclesial commu-nity, and concludes with a challenge to consecrated life in the church's mission to the world. This format enables the reader to focus on the present reality of consecrated life, reflect on its the-ological foundations, and have hope for its future in the life and mission of the church. The format, moreover, precludes the seem-ing dichotomy of the church and world reflected in the format of the Lineamenta. Significant Revisions in the Instrumentum Laboris The Instrumentum's Introduction. A Stance of Listening The introduction to the Lineamenta (§§1-4) explained .the for-mat of the synod, gave a rationale for choosing the topic of con-secrated life, and recalled the magisterium's conciliar and postconciliar teachings on consecrated life. The purpose of the Lineamenta was to present the essential elements of consecrated life as a guide for all those responding to the invitation to engage in the consultation. The introduction to the Instrumentum (§§1-7), however, places the synodal fathers in a listening stance before the thoughts and experiences of the rest of the Christian faithful at this moment in the history of salvation. It stresses the importance of the partic- March-April 1995 181 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Consultation ipation of the entire church membership in this ecclesial event (§1). It gratefully acknowledges the tremendous outpouring of responses to the twenty-five questions posed by the Lineamenta and manifests respect for the differing points of view expressed by the respondents (§3). It acknowledges that the respondents have pointed to the complexity of the topic at hand and that sensitiv-ity is needed in addressing such diversity (§4). It takes note that various respondents have different experiential perspectives on consecrated life today. Some recognize it as a time of transfor-mation or profound change, while others see it as a time of renewal, revitalization, and refoundation (§4). Finally, the intro-duction explains the meaning and limits of the term "consecrated life" within the context of the lnstrumentum and the synod itself (~95-6). This was a noted lacuna in the Lineamenta.3 The Instrumentum's Part 1. Consecrated Life Today Part 2 of the Lineamenta, "Consecrated Life in the Church and the World of Today" (9925-33), recognized the profound societal and ecclesial changes that affect consecrated life. After describing a number of positive results of the efforts at renewal and adaptation made by institutes of consecrated life and by their individual members (9926-27), the Lineamenta enumerated vari-ous negative experiences and problems. The bishops gathered at the synod would assist consecrated persons in the continuing renewal prompted by the Second Vatican Council (928). This section seemed to judge members and institutes of consecrated life on their inability to meet successfully all of the challenges experienced in society and the church over the past thirty years. Part 1 of the Instrumentum laboris, "Consecrated Life Today" (998-40), celebrates the wide variety and different forms of con-secrated life. Several responses recommended that the distinc-tive charism of each institute is the key to interpreting the whole of consecrated persons' experience: their living of the counsels, spirituality, apostolate, communal life, formation, and organiza-tion (911). This input of the respondents pointed to the com-plexity and sensitivity of the topic which the synod's participants had to address. Likewise, unlike the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum offers a profile of men and women in consecrated life today. Those who critiqued the Lineamenta called attention to this sig-nificant lacuna.4 Women represent 72.5 percent of the member-ship of institutes of consecrated life, while 82.2 percent are laypersons (98). Knowledge of the various charisms or spiritual 182 Review.for Religious traditions and attentiveness to the experiences and voices of women and nonclerical male religious are important considera-tions for the synod. Unlike the Lineamenta, the Instrl~mentum does not make judg-ments on the achievements and failures of consecrated life during its period of renewal and adaptation. Rather, it reviews for the benefit of the entire church the profound changes that have affected the living of the evan-gelical counsels and the perma-nent commitment of those responding to the vocation to follow the poor, chaste, and obedient Christ (§§14-17). It recognizes and commends the heroic efforts made by institutes and members to renew and adapt in accord with the exhor-tations of the Second Vatican Council and their own charisms. Likewise, the text acknowledges the enormous challenges encountered today in living out the. commitment to consecrated life (§ 18). In objectively pointing to the difficulties encountered by persons professing the evangel-ical counsels, the Instrumentum is far more supportive and less judgmental than the Lineamenta. The Instrumentum seems to enter into dialogue with consecrated persons, rather than judge the ability of institutes and members to address these societal and ecclesial challenges (§§23-26). The responses to the Lineamenta hoped that synod would encourage a continuation on the path indicated by the Second Vatican Council. This confirmation in the Instrumentum is welcomed by many who were discouraged by the negative judgments made in the Lineamenta. The great transi-tions that consecrated life is experiencing today cannot be exam-ined apart from the obedient response of these institutes and their members to the conciliar mandate to renew and adapt (§ 14).5 Several responses recommended that the distinctive charism of each institute is the key to interpreting the whole of consecrated persons' experience: their living of the counsels, spirituality, apostolate, communal life, formation, and organization. March-dpril 1~95 183 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Consultation The mystery of Christ and the church is foundational for those professing the evangelical counsels. A vocation to consecrated life is rooted in Christ and one's baptismal consecration. The Instrumentum's Part 2. Consecrated Life in the Mystery of Christ and the Church Part 1, section 1, of the Lineamenta discussed "The Nature and Identity of the Consecrated Life" (§§5-13). Unfortunately, this section attempted to explain the fundamental elements of consecrated life without rooting the vocation in the mystery of Christ and the church. This regrettable lacuna was noted in the consultation process.6 The Second Vatican Council (LG §46) taught that consecrated life has its roots in the mystery of Christ and the gospel. Likewise, while conse-crated life does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the church, it belongs undeniably to her life and holiness (LG §44). Part 2 of the lnstrumentum laboris, "Consecrated Life in the Mystery of Christ and the Church" (§§41-65), seeks to remedy this omission; the entire part is a wel-come and significant expansion of part 1, section 1, of the Lineamenta. The first six para-graph~ (§§41-46) describe conse-crated life as a gift of the Holy Spirit to the church and root it firmly within the sacramental and charismatic dimension of the church. The vocation.is a call to an intense following of the life and teachings of Christ as reflected in the gospel. A noteworthy quotation from Mystici Corporis sub-stantiates the importance of the living of the evangelical coun-sels in a variety of institutes in the ecclesial community: "When she embraces the evangelical counsels, the church reproduces in herself the poverty, obedience, and virginity of the Redeemer. Through the multiple and diverse institutions adorning her like so many jewels, in a certain sense she shows forth Christ in con-templation on the mountain, preaching to the people, healing the sick and wounded, calling sinners back to the right way, and doing good to all" (§43). 184 Review for Religious This explanation by Pope Plus XII of the ecclesial meaning of the charisms is well known and often quoted; it was incorporated into Lumen gentium ~46 and canon 577 of the Latin Code of Canon Law. In employing this text, the Instrumentum describes the priestly, prophetic, and kingly mission of those called to conse-crated life. The mystery of Christ and the church is foundational for those professing the evangelical counsels. A vocation to con-secrated life is rooted in Christ and one's baptismal consecration. Consecrated life is gift of the Holy Spirit to the church, as the church is gift of the Father to the world.7 The Instrumentum's Part 3. Consecrated Life in Ecclesial Communion Part 3, section 1, of the Lineamenta, "Consecrated Life in the Church Communion" (§§34-41), presented the relations of insti-tutes and members of consecrated life with the hierarchy from a rather rigid authoritarian perspective. It seemed to overlook what had been requested of the bishops and members of consecrated life in Mutuae relationes.8 Words and phrases such as "submisSion," "subjection," and "total and ready acceptance of directives" lacked the collaborative and cooperative qualities encouraged between bishops and religious in the document on mutual relations (§36). While the Lineamenta encouraged clerical religious to become involved in the presbyteral council, there was little mention of the specific roles or participation of other members of institutes of consecrated life in the mission of the particular churches (§39). Entities such as conferences, councils, and unions of major superiors were to enter into dialogue with the hierarqhy, but there was no indication in the Lineamenta of a corresponding episcopal responsibility for such cooperation (§38). Likewise, no mention was made of the many efforts of both bishops and major superi-ors at national and diocesan levels to enter into more collabora-tive relationships for the sake of the church's mission. Part 3 of the Instrumentum, "Consecrated Life in Ecclesial Communion," remedies these flaws and omissions in the Lineamenta. It describes the relationship of consecrated life to the universal and the local church. This section is perhaps the most reworked part of the Lineamenta. Twenty paragraphs (§§66- 85) revise and expand the same topic discussed in the eight para-graphs of part 3 of the Lineamenta (§§34-41). Part 3, section 1, explains ecclesial communion as sacra-mental, hierarchical, and charismatic (§67). All are called to par- March-April 1995 185 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Consultation ticipate in the mission of the church--lay people, clerics, and those professing the evangelical counsels. This section explains the living of the evangelical counsels as a participation in the priestly, prophetic, and kingly offices (munera) of Christ (§71). The communion of the institutes and their members with the universal church is recognized and lived through the particular churches' witness to and participation in Christ's three munera (§§72-73). The lnstrumentum acknowledges the efforts of bishops and those consecrated by the profession of the counsels to build authentic relations through communication and collaboration among themselves and with the other clergy and the laity (§§73- 74). Noticeably absent are the harsh mandates to "subjection, "total and ready acce.ptance of directives," and "submission to the authority of bishops" expressed in the Lineamenta. Instead, there is an emphasis on the positive results of dialogue, mutual rela-tions, collaboration, and cooperation. The bishops are called to their serious responsibility of appreciating consecrated life and receiving the service of consecrated persons for the pastoral needs of the particular churcl~ (§75). . The lnstrumentum's Part 4. Consecrated Life in the Church's Mission In part 3, section 2, "Consecrated Life in Church Mission" (§§42-44), the Lineamenta called those in consecrated life to par-ticipation in the new evangelization through the witness and proclamation of the gospel. The spiritual and apostolic legacy of institutes of consecrated life, particularly those dedicated to mis-sionary activity, can contribute immeasurably to the remaking of the Christian fabric and the promotion of the unity of all the bap-tized (§43). This section called those committed to living the gospel to accept the responsibility of making it known in today's world (§42). Consecrated persons are called to undertake the new evan-gelization by manifesting the charity of Christ in many ways: to the young, to the poor, in schools, in the promotion of culture, in fostering peace and justice (§44). While this section of the Lineamenta was certainly positive in restating traditional aposto-lates, it seemed to lack a description of the creative response required of institutes of consecrated life and their members to meet the challenges inherent in addressing the felt needs of God's people in today's world. 186 Review for Religious Part 4 of the Instrumentum, "Consecrated Life in the Church's Mission" (§§86-110), significantly expands part 3, section 2, of the Lineamenta. There are twenty-five paragraphs in the Instrumentum in comparison with the three paragraphs of the Lineamenta. This part 4 of the Instrumentum looks to the future responsibilities of members and institutes of consecrated life in the mission of the church. These new challenges will require a renewal in spiri-tual and apostolic vitality (§§86- 87). There is a strong appeal for the fostering of vocations to all forms of consecrated life (§89). Institutes of consecrated life are obliged to provide an intense formation for those accepting the vocation to a life conse-crated by the counsels. Great emphasis is placed on the min-istry of formation, the forma-tion of formators, and the formation required in address-ing the new demands of conse-crated life (§§91-92). Considerable attention is devoted to women, who consti-tute three-fourths of the mem-bers of consecrated life. These women require a formation that is at once thorough, integral, and dynamic in preparation for their significant contribution to the mission of the church. Admittedly, women are still far from full engagement in the church~ their ecclesial role must be clari-fied and officially recognized (§88). Two paragraphs of this section are devoted to the importance of inculturation for the effectiveness of consecrated life in the church's mission. One of the greatest future challenges of institutes of consecrated life is to express themselves in diverse cultures. This is a complex reality that demands knowledge of the civi-lization, tradition, language, and customs of a people and accep-tance of individual persons (§§93-94). Consecrated life has a special role in the new evangelization, since its members represent Christ in responding to the demands The bishops are called to their serious responsibility of appreciating consecrated life and receiving the service of consecrated persons for the pastoral needs of the particular church. March-April 1995 187 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Cons~dtation Called first to conversion or self-evangelization, consecrated men and women can transform and humanize society through the witness of their lives and the charisms or gifts they have received. of the beatitudes. Called first to conversion or self-evangeliza-tion, consecrated men and women can transform and humanize society through the witness of their lives and the charisms or gifts they have received (§95). They are called to examine traditional apostolates and to extend themselves in new endeavors: ecu-menism, interreligious dialogue (particularly with the Jews), and working more closely with asso-ciates and lay people. Special mention is given to apostolic endeavors directed towards the poor, the sick and suffering, youth, family life, the further-ance of peace and justice, and the promotion of culture (§§98-109). The work of this synod is to make the new evangelization alive and effective in consecrated life. Those in consecrated life must extend their essential fol-lowing of Christ to a further evangelical and apostolic dimen-sion. The Instrumentum calls for finding new forms of apostolic presence through an exploratory review of the traditional aposto-lates, of the gifts of the institute's members, of geographic loca-tions, and of ecumenical per-spectives. This section of the Instrumentum emphasizes the principle that the charism of an institute of consecrated life is a gift to the church for the world. Clearly the experiences of institutes of consecrated life serving in the church's mission throughout the world contributed immeasurably to the improvement of this part of the Instrumentum laboris. The Instrumentum's Conclusion. A Call to Fidelity The conclusion to the Lineamenta (§§45-47) dealt with three topics in three paragraphs. Yet it seemed more a continuation of the discussion of the document than a summary or conclusion. It presented Mary as the example par excellence for those who follow the virginal, poor, and obedient Christ (§45), Throughout 188 Review for Religious the history of the church, the many gifts or charisms of conse-crated life (eremitic, monastic, mendicant, apostolic, and secu-lar) have borne testimony to the presence of the Spirit in the church and have adorned the bride for her Spouse (§46). The final paragraph recognized the celebration of the synod as calling those professing the evangelical counsels to a more intense living of the graces they have received in order that Christ may be more present for the unity and salvation of all people (§47). The conclusion to the Instrumentum (§111) is significantly shorter. The synod is viewed as a moment of grace for conse-crated persons, particularly coming at the threshold of the third millennium since the incarnation of the Word. It calls conse-crated persons to a renewal of the four fidelities articulated in "Religious and Human Promotion": (1) fidelity to Christ and the gospel; (2) fidelity to the church and her mission; (3) fidelity to consecrated life and one's particular charism; (4) fidelity to the person and our age (§111).9 Since these four fidelities sum up the whole of consecrated life, the challenge to those living the evangelical counsels to recommit themselves to them seems a fitting conclusion to the Instrumentum laboris. Consecrated life, particular church-approved way of life that it is, is an intense response to one's baptismal commitment to follow Christ. Highlighting only a few of the more significant revisions, this article has attempted to demonstrate how constructively the worldwide consultation affected the reworking of the Lineamenta as it was becoming the Instrumentum that would guide the recent synod's discussion. The modifications contributed to the supe-rior quality of the Instrumentum in comparison with the Lineamenta. The assembly of bishops is presented in a listening stance towards consecrated persons and the rest of the Christian faith-ful; the synod is at one with the entire church in its reflection on consecrated life. The bishops acknowledge the efforts of insti-tutes of consecrated life and their members in meeting the chal-lenges in today's church and society. Likewise, they share the concerns of consecrated persons during this time of significant transition. The Instrumentum roots consecrated life firmly within March-AgrHl 1995 189 McDermott ¯ Tbe Fruits of Consultation the mystery of Christ and the ecclesial community; it identifies the living of the counsels as a participation in the church's prophetic, priestly, and kingly mission. Present-day experiences and apos-tolates of members of apostolic institutes of consecrated life inspire and give impetus to section 4 of the lnstrumentum on the participation of consecrated life in the mission of the church. And, finally, those consecrated through the profession of the coun-sels are called to a recommitment to the four fidelities that con-stitute their very existence. Pope Paul VI instituted the synod of bishops at the begin-ning of the fourth session of the council on 15 September 1965.1° One of the reasons for the establishment of this central consul-tative organ was to ensure that direct and real information would be provided to the Apostolic See on issues integral to the church and its mission. This purpose seems to have been accomplished. The consultative process assisted in the production of a working paper of high quality that reflected not only the teachings of the church on consecrated life, but also the experience of this Christian vocation throughout the world. The working paper seemed a most effective instrument in directing synodal discus-sions on "Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." Moreover, this Inst~tmentum, along with the synod's brief final message, is a source of encouragement for the whole church, particularly its members professing the evangelical counsels, as they await Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation. Notes ~ Synodus Episcoporum IX Coetu~ Generalis Ordinarius, De Vita Consecrata deque Eius Munere in Ecclesia et in Mundo Lineamenta (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1992). The English translation of the Lineamenta can be found in Origins 22, no. 26 (10 December 1992): 433 and 435-454. Subsequent references, to paragraphs, will be placed in parentheses within the text. 2 Synodus Episcoporum IX Coetus Generalis Ordinarius, De Vita Consecrata deque Eius Munere in Ecclesia et in Mundo lnstrumentum Laboris (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1994). The English translation of the Instrumentum laboris can be found in Origins 24, no. 7 (30 June 1994): 97 and 99-138. Subsequent references, to paragraphs, will be placed in parentheses within the text. 3 Rose McDermott SSJ, "Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World: The Lineamenta for the 1994 Synod of Bishops," The Jurist 53, no. 2 (1993): 242. 190 Review for Religious 4 Gilles Cusson, "Attentes des religieux et des religieuses a l'approche du synode sur la vie religieuse," Vie consacrde 65 (1993): 228. s McDermott, "Consecrated Life," 250-251. 6 Instrumentum laboris, §§4 and 39. 7 Andrea Boni, Vangelo e Vita Religiosa (Rilettura teologica e storico-giuridica dellefonti) (Rome: Pontificium Athenaeum Antonianum, 1994), p. 154. 8 S.C.R.S.I., "Directives for Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious in the Church," in Vatican Council H: More Post Conciliar Documents, ed. Austin Flannery OP (Northport: Costello Publishing Company, 1975), pp. 209-243. 9 S.C.R.S.I., "Religious and Human Advancement," in Flannery (ed.), Vatican, as in note 8, pp. 260-284. 10 Paul VI, Motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo, 15 September 1965, in Canon Law Digest, vol. 6, pp. 388-411. Mary, Easter Morning Jesus, my Son! Jesus, my Son! Splendidly shining, silvered in lightnings! Here let me hold, hard to my heart, My beautiful Son, my blessed Redeemer! Sad though my heart, hope was my mainstay, Whilst grievously tattered, torn and sore wounded, Livid and lifeless, low wast thou laid. Now all is brightness, blissful and blithesome, Gold-fingered dawning, glorious day! For, scornful of death, defying the tomb, Them thou defeated. Thus thou appearest Jeweled with radiance, gemmed and resplendent, Triumphant in glory, my God and my Son! Mary Albertus Mathis RSM March-April 199~ 191 KEVIN RICHTER Ash Wednesday and Faith's Grounding Before anything else I want to say what is most impor-tant: We are an Easter people. This fact is clearly pre-sumed in every Christian liturgy. We are a people that believes that the resurrection of Jesus from the dead is life-giving for us. The kingdom is present; as kingdom people we await the fullness, the completion, of that king-dom. This is our context, our situation. Nothing mean-ingful could be said about Ash Wednesday and Lent without this Easter event being understood and accepted as their "source and summit." In an image adapted from T.S. Eliot, our life is a series of circles in which the end always comes back to the begin-ning and comes to know it as if "for the first time." The season of Lent is this ending which reminds us of Easter's new beginning, renews our participation in it, and pre-pares us for a deeper living of it. Ash Wednesday, then, could be called the beginning of the end. "Remember you are dust and to dust you will return" (Gn 3:19). These familiar words speak to us from the liturgy of this day as we are being marked with ashes. I have always liked these words, first of all for their abrupt-ness that matches the action, signaling a very deliberate Kevin Richter, a priest of the Sioux City diocese, currently serves as associate pastor of St. Mary parish in Remsen and as a spiritual director of the St. Mary school system. His address is St. Mary Parish; Rernsen, Iowa 51050. 192 Review for Religious and clear entrance into the Lenten season. We are visibly marked--an invitation out of the ambiguity of our life's direction into the truth seeking of the kingdom. When we receive the invi-tation, we are inflamed; when we willingly respond, we become ashes. Thus, my second reason for liking these words is that they "ground" us, both literally and figuratively. We are reminded of our earthiness. We are "humus," earth. Our lit-eral "humility" comes to the fore. We are called down from the loftiness of our ideas and our ,activities into the soil of our lives to become rooted again. There is great potential here for rediscovering rootedness in a world that is often experienced as hav-ing no roots. It is here, in the ground of our being, that we can reconnect with our innermost self, our deepest self, if and when we allow all things that are of our making to die. All of our idols--ideas, opinions, projects, activities, possessions-- come to rest with us in the dust of the earth. But, once again, coming to this place makes sense only if we are fully cognizant of the fact that it was into the dust of the earth that Yahweh blew the breath of life (see Gn 2:7). This is a place of promise, of hope, and of new life. God is stirred to "concern for his land" and takes "pity on his people" (J1 2:18).1 These things are understood in the light of the Easter event. The image of entering into our earthiness is an easy one for me, coming from a rural culture as I do. Each fall I watch the farmers bring in the harvest of the field. In the process they leave behind the "trash"--the chopped-up leaves, stalks, and corncobs-- to be plowed under and into the soil. This trash, transformed to humus, adds to the richness of the soil and prepares for a more abundant harvest in future years. So it is with us. Our entrance into earthiness is an invitation to let go of our own trash: to let go of our controlling nature, to let go of the conception of ourselves as self-sustained and self-contained, to let go of our diversions and distractions. When we explore the trash of our lives and begin to be able to let it go, it When we explore the trash of our lives and begin to be able to let it go, it becomes humus for fertilizer for a life of greater fruitfulness. March-April 1995 193 Richter ¯ Ash Wednesday and Faith's Grounding becomes humus for us--fertilizer for a life of greater fruitfulness. Through this action we return to the Lord with our "whole heart" (J12:12). This is an invitation to a simplicity of life that renews our focus on the reality of the circle, our movements to and from the Easter event. This is an invitation to recognize our being in the presence of God, who is the breath of life. The season of Lent, then, is not an entrance into the barren land that we have sometimes thought it to be. Rather, it is an entrance into a land that will produce much fruit. This day and this season are made holy by our actions of self-denial. If we embrace "the discipline of Lent," we are assured, we will find it to be not a place of desolation, but a deposit of richness waiting to give life and light. To embrace this discipline, to stand .true to the mark we have received on this day, takes great courage. It involves a willing-ness to look directly into the shadows and dark places of our lives. But I believe courage is given in proportion to our faith. The more deeply we come to believe in the light of the Easter event, the more courageous we become in exploring the darknesses of our lives. Each year, as we are given the grace, to enter more deeply into our personal experience of Easter, we also are given the grace of a "steadfast spirit" to enter more deeply into the darkness that is the 'ground of our being. In this way the circle of the Easter event has a spiraling effect that moves us into ever deeper levels of truth. So, what is the discipline of Lent? In the traditional language of the liturgy, it is a discipline of repentance and reconciliation. Of what are we repenting? Our project of building up our own self to the exclusion of God. To what are we being reconciled? Our deepest self, rooted intimately and infinitely in God. For we are to "become the very holiness of God," a grace that is not to be received "in vain" (2 Co 5:21 and 6:1). This is the project of a lifetime that is entered anew each year. In the antiseptic language of the day, the discipline of Lent is a project of "assessment and evaluation." It is a time for "taking stock of our priorities," for "clarifying objectives and setting goals." For Christians, however, this human effort, this "self-help project," is not an end in itself; it is the means to a greater end: becoming Easter people. In order to do this, we would do well to eliminate distrac-tions and clutter that keep us from living a simple and focused 194 Review for Religious life. Thus, "giving things up for Lent" is encouraged, provided that the things given up help us become Easter people. With a simple lifestyle we can begin to turn our hearts to their "ground-ing" in God. Likewise; "taking things on for Lent" is encouraged, provided that the things taken on help us become Easter people. Whatever we choose to do or not to do during this season should serve the purpose of reinserting us into this rhythm of life, the cycle of our participation in the growing kingdom of God. Something must be said here about the communal dimension of our participation in this growing, kingdom. Our action should not be thought of as a private action simply for our own personal benefit. Our liturgy, it may be noted, makes no provision for the distribution of ashes outside of the community celebration. We have been marked as a people, not as individuals. The mark of this day is given to everyone in the community, reminding us that we together form one "earth" and that the breath of each of us is from the one God. There can be no division here, no holding one's self apart, for then our land would become desolate and our life barren. We seek life, a life that produces abundant fruit. Ash Wednesday ushers us into a season in which we seek to realize ourselves as ,holy ground" (see Ex 3:5). We prepare the soil of our lives by hard work---the sweat of our brow (see Gn 3:19). Our motivation for doing this work must be the knowledge that we are an Easter people. God's seed is planted intimately and infinitely within our "holy ground." Note ~ Various scriptural and other wordings used herein are from the Ash Wednesday liturgy. March-April 1995 195 ERIK RIECHERS The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal ~atiS a delightful thing to gather together with other believers nd ponder the gospel call to service and mission. Over and over again we have done exactly this in the years since Vatican Council II. Yet many members of the church have grown weary of the tedious deliberations and often angry exchanges that have marked our search for what is needed to bring about church renewal. We have been forced to acknowledge thirty years after the council that the renewal of the church is a far more daunting task than we imagined, one that cannot be well undertaken with-out serious efforts on. the part of all members of the church, laity and clergy, men and women, young and old. Today we realize that our commitment to the church occurs within the stress all of us feel as we find ourselves hurtling along towards the next millennium. We do not have the luxury of stop-ping and quietly reflecting on the next step in our course of action. It is folly to think of preparing for a storm that awaits us. We are already in the throes of that storm. That being said, what does it mean to speak of commitment to the church? Ready answers trip from the tongue, but leave us all just a little cold because they are but repetitions of the party line. Therein lies the nub of our problem. We are focused on Erik Riechers SAC, a member of the Pallottine Secretariat on Apostolate in Rome, serves as the director of the Regional Faith Enrichment Center in Red Deer, Alberta. This article flows from the keynote address at the Church 2000 Archdiocesan Pastoral Assembly in Edmonton, Alberta. His address is 6 McMillan Avenue; Red Deer, Alberta T4N 5X8; Canada. 196 Review for Religious "activities" that express our commitment. Going to Mass, cele-brating the sacraments, attentiveness to the word of God in scrip-ture- study groups, missionary projects, ministerial formation, and community building: all of these are certainly part and parcel of our commitment to Jesus and his church. It was a mistake, how-ever, to believe that this would suffice to renew the church in the spirit of Vatican II. Too often we have acted as if all of these activities would end up creating a new commitment, when in fact they can never be more than the expression of it. Because people have not noticed ¯ this false identification of activity with commitment, it has become possible for all segments of the church to fight for control of structures and activi-ties. Together in this false indentifi-cation, left and right, liberal and conservative, have truly been in col-lusion (see Margaret O'Brien Steinfels, America, 2 May 1992) while quarreling endlessly about which activities must be front and center and which ones must be swiftly and defini-tively relegated to the back benches. The question of the moti-vation behind the activity is forgottenas we place all our faith in a new process, method, or structure. Obviously something must accompany structural renewal in the church. At the heart of all our commitments lie our attitudes. Our thoughts and feelings towards people and organizations deter-mine our willingness to commit ourselves to them. In some fash-ion we must discover value and worth in others before we are willing to invest the time, effort, and energy that commitment entails. As we uncover genuine beauty, truth, and goodness in another, we are drawn to commit ourselves to him or her, to insure that nothing will ever separate us. The process then begins in which we select our priorities, sift our lives, and remove the chaff in order to strengthen the commitment. We make real changes of lifestyle and behavior. We discard some old attitudes. Whenever we are truly committed, we are willing to appraise our thoughts and perceptions and, if necessary, alter them for the sake of that Our thoughts and feelings towards people and organizations determine our willingness to commit ourselves to them. March-April 199Y 197 Riecbers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal to which we are committed. Some of our previous options will not remain intact, for they will be found to be in contradiction with our new commitment and incapable of existing in har.mony with it. Commitment means focus. Focus means concentration, intensity, direction, and clarity, but it also means freely chosen limitations, defined contours, and real surrender. If we would speak of our commitment to the church, we must seriously consider the nature of commitment. Eager as we have been to discard structures, systems, and style~ in our faith com-munities and to adopt new methods, means, and maneuvers, we have failed to realize that, for a renewal of our commitment to the church, what is most needed is an overhaul of our attitudes. Reform in the church has often been brilliantly conceived but abysmally executed. We are like landlords who have seen our apartment ruined by careless and thoughtless tenants. So we evict them, tear down the old lodgings as not worth repairing, con-struct luxury accommodations on the site, and then promptly invite all the old tenants to move back in, without changing their attitude towards our property. In the church we have often pro-vided a new backdrop for the same old prereform attitudes. Our challenge is to change our attitudes towards the dwelling place of God, the temple of the Spirit. If we are committed to the church, we will display the readiness to revisit our attitudes, thoughts, biases, and ecclesial conditioning and alter, discard, or rework anything that hinders the coming of the kingdom. I cannot offer an exhaustive list of new attitudes for genuine reform, but I shall sketch out four attitudes that the modern church stands in need of: (1) an abiding trust in the kingdom, (2) a willingness to deal with complexity and tension as part of eccle-sial existence, (3) a searching desire for inclusivity, and (4) a readi-ness to seek the mysterious God in the daily experience of modern life. An Abiding Trust in the Kingdom This attitude stands in direct contradiction to resignation a]ad despair. Both of these attitudes are far too common in the church. Paul M. Zulehner, a professor of pastoral theology at the University of Vienna, describes the situation very vividly in his bool¢ Wider die Resignation in der Kirche (Against Resignation in the Church). People are annoyed and irritated with the power poli- 198 Review for Religious tics played in the church, especially in their parishes. There is a growing disillusionment at the lack of openness in the church as major problems and cries for understanding are swept under the carpet or ignored, instead of being looked at openly with a will-ingness to listen to the needs of the people of God. All kinds of factions complain about the reforms of Vatican II, some com-plaining that the pace is too slow, some that it is too swift, and some that the attempt at reform has been piecemeal at best. Others complain that there is a lack of compassion towards such intraecclesial minorities as the divorced, homosexuals, and women seeking ministerial equality. Yet others think there is too much compassion towards these same groups. Great numbers feel despair or numb resignation at the sight of empty pews and the exodus of youth. The only antidote for this is an abiding trust in the kingdom. Cardinal Martini of Milan makes this point in his book Von seinem Geist getrieben, reminding the church of the true goal and nature of the church, namely, Jesus and the kingdom. We have forgotten this or have been distracted from it by the daily grind of our lives and by the many insignificant and peripheral things that are part of everyday life in the church. We have introduced changes at times, making the church a social agency or an institution for the advocacy of human rights. At other times we have acted as if the need was to spoon-feed people with spirituality. Martini points out that two activities are essentially true to the nature of the church and require our urgent attention. He finds one of them in Acts 20:20-21, 27, and 31: "You know how I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable, and teaching you in public and from house to house, testifying both to Jews and to Greeks of repentance to God and of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ . For I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God . Therefore be alert, remembering that for three years I did not cease night or day to admonish every one with tears." From this passage Martini draws out the goal of the church in its pastoral activity, namely, to be ceaseless and tireless in it, drawing strength from the Spirit who prompts it to speak, plead, admonish, intercede, and pro-claim. It is not success, but tireless effort for the kingdom, that Paul claims as the glory of the church. Then Martini looks at Acts 2:42: "They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of the March-April 199Y 199 Riecbers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal In the midst of pessimism and despair, where do we give witness to God breaking into the human story? Where is the authentic hope that such a God and his kingdom would bring? bread and the prayers." Here he draws attention to the church achieving its purpose in the apostolic teaching and fellowship, Eucharist and sacramental life, a rich liturgical and prayer life. When it is true to these matters, it is true to its nature and essence. Both of these elements are of critical importance for a people that has an abiding trust in the kingdom, for they speak of the reality of God's command of our situation rather than the need for us to try to control all of life. They are a rebuke to the prophets of doom from both sides who seem to have forgotten that God is still run-ning this show. Much of our challenge to change lies right here. We are constantly deluged with com-plaint from prophets of doom of every faction in the church: Everything is in decline, every-thing getting worse! More crime, violence, and blood-shed, less respect, kindness, and neighborliness! Politicians are more corrupt, economies weaker, and leaders less inspir-ing. Hand in hand with this endless litany of despair is a deep pessimism about our future, our fellow human beings, and our ability to improve matters. But where does our faith in the kingdom enter into this chaotic mess? In the midst of pessimism and despair, where do we give witness to God breaking into the human story? Where is the authentic hope that such a God and his kingdom would bring? Like the parable of the seed growing while the farmer is unaware, we are called to live as church with our action and response dic-tated by the kingdom. We are called to action. We do what we can. We plant seeds and then hope and pray for their fruition. The seeds we plant in God's name grow while we are unaware. We often see nothing at all. There appears to be no growth, no progress, no development. Then suddenly the harvest is surpris- 200 Review for Religious ingly apparent, far beyond our expectations--so much for prophets of doom! Belief in their message of inevitable decline is a subtle but clear refusal to believe in the unstoppable coming and growth of the kingdom. In its place we must announce our faith in the powerful coming of the kingdom of God, a kingdom more powerful than all the evil and deterioration we confront in our Christian lives. The Willingness to Deal with Complexity and Tension This attitude stands in contradiction to fundamentalism, which avoids complexity by reducing everything to simple and clear-cut propositions. Yet life is complex and full of nuances that are demanding and time consuming. Since there is no easy way to sort out the many facets of today's issues and since the resulting weariness often makes us reluctant to deal with matters at hand, fundamentalism proposes reducing everything to a series of sim-ple truths. As tempting as this often is to all of us, as relieving as it might be to fall back on overly simple answers, we usually seek such a fundamentalism only when dealing with others and are horrified when others treat us in the same way. Who of us would gladly accept an unnuanced approach to our lives? Who of us wants our life to be dealt with by being reduced to a few simple truths that omit many relevant details? Instead, we insist on nuances, on pointing out the many little things about us that are not so obvi-ous to others. We feel unloved until we are dealt with as a total-ity. We are deeply hurt when others refuse to recognize and deal with our complexity. If we are unwilling to deal with the complexity of issues in the community of faith, we behave in a sim!larly unloving way-- from the need we feel for relevance and success. Relevance insists tha.t everything be clear, that there be a determined purpose and definite means to achieve it. When issues are clouded or uncer-tain and when a distinct and manageable solution cannot be found, we deem the issues irrelevant. If we cannot state the purpose of something, cannot show the inner logic or demonstrate the ratio-nale, then the matter is irrelevant. We buy into this heresy. Our question is not relevance, but simply: Is it loving? Henri Nouwen warns of the temptation of rel-evance in his book In the Name of Jesus. After describing the drive March-April 199Y 201 Riecbers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal There is an amazing willingness to segregate, isolate, and separate those we do not understand or cannot agree with. for relevance in our society and the lack of interest or need for the spiritual answers to the pragmatic problems of our world, Nouwen goes on to write: "In this climate of secularization, Christian lead-ers feel less and less relevant and more and more marginal. Many begin to wonder why they should stay in the ministry. Often they leave, develop a new competency, and join their contemporaries in their attempts to make relevant contributions to a better world. But there is a completely different story to tell. Beneath all the great accomplishments of our time, there is a deep current of despair. While efficiency and control are the great aspirations of our society, loneliness, isolation, lack of friend-ship and intimacy, broken relation-ships, boredom, feelings of emptiness and depression, and a deep sense of uselessness fill the hearts of millions of people in our success-oriented world" (pp. 20-21). Relevance alone is but another way of avoiding the complexity of a world that never can be reduced to the merely efficient and successful. Success is another way by which we circumvent the need to deal with complexity in our church. By reduc-ing everything to the question of success and the measurement thereof, we have done violence to life itself. There is more to life than success. But it is difficult to convince people that success is an idol, even though thousands and thousands practically adore the successful and venerate their achievement. Can success be an idol, they think, if good and decent people aspire after it and dream of it? For many of us, success is everything. The successful peer out at us in every mag-azine and TV program. Few seem to be interested in those who gave it "the old college try," but failed to walk away with the tro-phy. The danger has been going unnoticed while we kept applying the criteria of success to our faith lives and communities as well. We felt that faith and community must lead to achievement; there 202 Review for Religious must be something to show for it in the end; success stories must be written, goals must be attained, and trophies must be won. St. Paul does not approve of this way of thinking. Run the race to the finish, yes; fight the good fight, yes. But he does not say that he won the race or the fight. He makes it clear that he continues to strain forward and not quit the struggle. Paul changes the crite-ria: not success, but striving. Success is not one of the names of God. To struggle is to love. Jesus himself teaches us this in the parable of the pharisee and the tax collector. He points out that the tax collector struggles, keeps fighting to be good. The pharisee is conscious only of suc-cess, of his list of achievements, becoming so proud of success that he thinks he can stop running the race. He is not justified because he has not loved enough to struggle for humility, to see the tax collector as his brother, to recognize his dependence upon God. As a community of faith, we must call to mind that we strug-gle only for what we love. We human beings make no effort for what we consider unimportant, insignificant. We do not invest in what leaves us indifferent or cold. We demonstrate no will-ingness to put out for what does not touch us. Only what we love awakens in us the willingness to struggle, and it is the struggle of another for us that puts to rest the notion that success alone is important. In fact, struggle met with failure often speaks more eloquently of the love given us than success that was achieved effortlessly. We need only think of people's valiant struggles to deal with adolescent problems, marriage difficulties, and the com-munity's weaknesses and foibles to know this truth. The Searching Desire for Inclusivity Here we are faced with an attitude that resists the individu-alism and polarization of modern community, a polarization that Paul Zulehner claims has exacted a very high price. People have moved on to other things, sought out places where they could feel at home. The official representatives of the church are often distant from the reality of the people in the pews. There is a sense that they do not understand the struggle of many parts of the church (such as the youth, women, and the laity). There is little or no sharing in leadership issues or in choice of leaders, no dia-logue between leadership and people. As a result, people can no Marcb-April 1995 203 Riechers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal longer easily see the presence of Jesus. The phenomenal success of Joseph Girzone's Joshua series speaks of this loss of trans-parency. Few things are transparent. Processes in the church are secretive and incomprehensible. The consequence is polarization, with each group racing to achieve its own agenda or place it at the top of the church's list of things to do. All of these things are the result of a lack of inclusivity. There is an amazing willingness to segregate, isolate, and separate those we do not understand or cannot agree with. There is a remarkable readiness simply to rid ourselves of pesky people. We watch with considerable indifference as some of the people walk away, and we are rather glad that we no longer have to deal with their trou-blesome issues and pains. Instead we must strive for a greater inclusivity, as befits a peo-ple of the kingdom. Jesus practices a greater inclusivity by whom he invites to the table of fellowship. Paul emphasizes this divinely rooted inclusivity in the stirring words of Galatians: "There can be neither Jew nor Greek, there can be neither slave nor free-man, there can be neither male nor female--for you are all one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 4:28). To recapture inclusivity, there must be a return to the practice of mutual complementarity as expressed with such brilliance in the Pauline image of the Body of Christ. We must move even deeper and return, in the words of Bruno Forte, to the trinitarian homeland of the faith and realize that the church is the icon of the Trinity, not a mere corporate recog-nition of the Trinity, but an efficacious expression of it. A trinitarian love dynamic entails a move from union to indi-viduality and back, with each person a giver and receiver at the same time and each spontaneously and freely taking the initia-tive in loving. Forte reminds us of this trinitarian rootedness of the church: "Coming from above, springing forth from the Trinity, the church is also structured after the image of the Trinity--one in diversity, communion of different charisms and ministries brought about by one Spirit, the church lives by that circulation of love of which trinitarian life is, besides its source, the incomparable model" (The Trinity as History, p. 207). Herein lies for us the anti-dote for a polarized church: to form communion rooted in the life of the Trinity. Jeffrey Imbach, in his book The Recovery of Love, makes the same point: "Love in the Trinity is both the passion to be One and the passion to be Unique . The exchange of love in the Trinity 204 Review for Religious is neither the embrace of a union so total that there is no dis-tinction left, nor is it the celebration of separate persons. It is both, and both simultaneously, each flowing out of the other . The quintessence of spiritual experience is to enter as deeply as possi-ble into the simultaneous flowing of love between Unity and Plurality, between losing oneself in Union, bursting forth into fruitful uniqueness and losing ourselves again in union" (pp. 78-79). Readiness to Seek the Mysterious God in the Daily Experience of Modem Life There remain among us great illusions that only the old ways will do, even long after the opposite is painfully obvious in the church. We cling to the forms as if they could save us: Roman collars, the liturgical use of Latin, or Communion on the tongue. As a result, a great gap between modern human experience and the language and imagery of the church has developed. A new lan-guage is needed, a new way of speaking about God. Terminology can never be allowed to become more important than communi-cation. Langdon Gilkey's influential work has reminded us that revelation uses whatever history offers as a medium of commu-nication. Innovative ministries exist, but they create furor when they do not match what came before. In many ways we seem totally foreign to the world around us. While many have deemed this to be a positive sign of our distinctiveness from the world or our unwillingness to stray from the tradition, it is in fact rooted in a distressing lack of faith. The moment we refuse to adapt, we are claiming that God has .spoken once, in one way and one form. There is no room for God to maneuver. Such an attitude betrays an underlying unwillingness to believe that God could work through new people, styles, places, and means. It is an arbitrary and ahistoricalapproach to the real-ity of the church. We would do well to heed St. Vincent Pallotti's reminder. "Seek God and you will find him. Seek him in all things and you will find him in all things. Seek-him always and you will find him always." There is so much to be done, but we are afraid to do it. There is always an excuse in the church for not acting: "People are not ready, they will not accept new attitudes . . . it will upset people and we will be misunderstood and maligned., it is only a drop in the bucket., we cannot change it all." We are, of course, not March-April 1995 205 Riechers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal called to change it all. We are called to live church well wher-ever we stand: parish, diocesan commission, school, office, or meeting room. We all wish to receive love, yet few wish to initiate its giving-- from an inaccurate perception of the way of love. Giving and receiving do not stand opposed. Through God's grace we can give love and receive it in one fluid motion, but this happens only when we trust more in God's revealed love in Jesus Christ than in any model we ourselves may come up with. St. Vincent Pallotti offers us a fine prayer to remind us of this God-centered reality we so badly need: "By myself I can do nothing. With God I can do everything. Out of love for God I will do all. Give honor to God." Compassion 0 healing Christ, look with your pity's gentleness into the old-wise eyes of the child who has tasted suffering too soon. Grace with your sweetness the endurance of such pain that leaves these little ones, your companions to Calvary, no strength to complain. Judith Powell 206 Review for Religious : ROBERT P. MALONEY Providence Revisited Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead thou me on! . . . Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene--one step enough for me. --John Henry Newman Saints like St. Vincent de Paul speak of providence with great conviction. They see God's plan at work every-where. They invoke providence to encourage those who find themselves groping in the darkness, to strengthen those experiencing pain,' to slow down the hasty, to pro-mote initiative in those planning the future. This essay will (1) analyze the idea of providence in the spoken words, writings, and life of St. Vincent (1581-1660), who founded the Congregation of the Mission and the Daughters of Charity; (2) will describe some fundamental shifts that have taken place in thinking between the 17th and 20th centuries; and (3) will "revisit!' providence today. Providence in St. Vincent de Paul It is utterly clear, as one tea& St. Vincent, how impor-tant a role providence plays for him. At times his words are eloquent. He writes to Jean Barreau, the French consul in Algiers: "We cannot better assure our eternal happi- Robert P. Maloney CM serves as superior general of the Congregation of the Mission (Vincentian Fathers and Brothers). His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Rome, Italy. March-April 1995 207 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited ness than by living and dying in the service of the poor, in the arms of providence, and with genuine renouncement of ourselves in order to follow Jesus Christ" (SVIII, 392).~ Vincent offers no systematic philosophical or theological anal-ysis of providence. But the documents we possess, especially his letters, written for particular occasions and for individuals whose personalities were quite varied, give us considerable insight into how he understood it. God has a hidden plan which works consistently for good. We owe some of Vincent's most striking statements on prov-idence to St. Louise de Marillac, who joined with him in found- ¯ ing the Daughters of Charity. As she struggled, particularly in the upbringing of her son Michel, she disclosed her pain to Vincent. He encouraged her to do her best, to be at peace, and to place the rest in God's hands. In 1629 he writes: "I wish you good evening and hope that you are no longer weeping over the hap-piness of your little Michel . Mon Dieu, my daughter, what great hidden treasures there are in holy providence and how mar-velously our Lord is honored by those who follow it aitd do not try to get ahead of i!!" (SVI, 68). The need to follow providence comes up again and again as Vincent writes to various confreres durin~ his lengthy negotiations to get the vows of the Congregation of the Mission approved and to acquire a residence in Rome. In 1640 he tells Louis Lebreton, who was encountering obstacles in trying to get a house for the Congregation: "I know that nothing can be added to your dili-gence and that this [situation] is not due to you personally, neither to your zeal nor your handling of the matter. Our Lord has given you both and is directing this matter according to the order of his eternal providence. Be assured, Monsieur, that you will see in this situation that it is for the best, and I think I can already see it as clearly as the light of day. Oh, Monsieur, how good it is to let oneself be guided by his providence!" (SVII, 137). Vincent appeals to God's hidden plan in many varied cir-cumstances: to explain the surprising success of the works he has started, to console the Company when speaking of the sickness or death of missionaries, to encourage those who have lost their par-ents, to find meaning in the sudden departure of missionaries or Daughters of Charity from the Company, to urge the Company to accept calumny and persecution with courage,z 208 Review for Religious He is so convinced of how important it is that the Daughters of Charity be led by providence that he even imagines their being called Daughters of Providence: "Oh, my Daughters, you should have such great devotion to, such great confidence and love in, divine providence that, if providence itself had not given you the beautiful name of Daughters of Charity, you should bear that of Daughters of Providence, for it was providence that brought you into being.''3 Grace has its moments; God's plan will be revealed to those who wait peace-fully and patiently. This theme comes through very strongly in Vincent's letters to the impetuous Bernard Codoing, the superior in Rome, who often aroused the founder's ire by mov-ing too quickly or too brusquely. After rebuking Codoing rather sharply in a letter written on 7 December 1641 and after telling him to act with greater delibera-tion, Vincent adds: "Reflecting on all the principal events that have taken place in this Company, it seems to me, and this is quite evi-dent, that, if they had taken place before they did, they would not have been successful. I say that of all of them, without except-ing a single one. That is why I have a particular devotion to fol-lowing the adorable providence of God step by step. And my only consolation is that I think our Lord alone has carried on and is constantly carrying on the business of the Little Company" (SV II, 208). On 16 March 1644 Vincent reprimands Codoing for interfering in matters that are not his concern, urges him to attend to his own affairs, and reminds him that providence will take care of the rest. "Grace has its moments," he tells him (SVII, 453). In Vincent's writings, there is a clear tension between activ-ity and passivity. His attitude depended greatly on the circum-stances. For instance, in trying to moderate the indiscreet zeal of Philippe le Vacher, he urges passivity: "The good that God wishes Vincent is so convinced of how important it is that the Daughters of Charity be led by providence that he even imagines their being called Daughters of Providence. March-April 1995 209 Maloney * Providence Revisited The close link between doing the will of God and following providence is a recurrent theme in Vincent's letters. to be done comes about almost by itself, without our thinking about it. That is the way that the congregation was born, that the missions and the retreats to ordinands began, that the Company of the Daughters of Charity came into being . Mon Dieu! Monsieur, how I desire that you would moderate your ardor and weigh things maturely on the scale of the sanctuary before resolving them! Be passive rather than active. In that way God will do through you alone what the whole world together could not do without him" (SVIV, 122- 123). He often emphasizes this theme to Louise de Marillac, encouraging her to be patient in awaiting the action of God.4 In all this it is quite evident that Vincent abhorred rushing. He tells oth-ers that "God's spirit is neither violent nor hasty," "his works have their moment," they are done "almost by themselves," they are accomplished "little by little." He tells Codoing, "If necessity urges us to make haste, then let it be slowly, as the wise proverb says.''5 But there is also another side to Vincent's teaching. We are God's coworkers, so we must make haste, even i~slowly. With Etienne Blatiron, the superior in Rome in 1655, Vincent's emphasis shifts subtly as he makes it clear that he is eager for some action: "Do not stop pursuing our business, with confi-dence that it is God's good pleasure . Let us act., in nego-tiating one of the most important affairs that the congregation will ever have" (SVV, 396). The tension between activity and passivity, within Vincent himself is evident in another letter he writes to Etienne Blatiron, 12 November 1655. He comments favorably on a practice that Blatiron has begun of asking, through the intercession of St. Joseph, for the spread of the Company. He adds reflectively: "For twenty years I have not dared to ask that of God, thinking that, since the congregation is his work, we should leave to his provi-dence alone the responsibility for its conservation and its growth. 210 Review for Religious But, struck by the recommendation made to us in the gospel to ask him to send laborers into the harvest, I have become convinced of the importance and usefulness of this devotion.''6 Finally, if we should be tempted to interpret Vincent's teach-ing on providence too passively, we might recall the founder's words to Edme Jolly: "You are one of the few men who honor the providence of God very much by the preparation of reme-dies against foreseen evils, I thank you very humbly for this and pray that our Lord will continue to enlighten you more and more so that such enlightenment may spread through the Company" (SVVII, 310). There is an intimate link, in St. I/Tncent's teaching, between following providence and doing the will of God in all things. One of the early, abiding influences on Vincent's thought is Benedict of Canfield's Rule of Perfection, in which doing the will of God in all things is described as the central element in the spir-itual life.7 From many of the citations above, the reader has already noted how central doing the will of God is for Vincent. In the period of Louise de Marillac's anguish over her son Michel's future, he writes to her about another problem concerning a small infant and then adds: "In any case, God will provide for the child and for your son as well, without your giving way to anxiety about what will become of him. Give the child and the mother to our Lord. He will take good care of you and your son. Just let him do his will in you and in him and await it in all your exercises. All you need do is devote yourself entirely to God. Oh, how little it takes to be very holy: to do the will of God in all things" (8VII, 36). The close link between doing the will of God and following providence is a recurrent theme in Vincent's letters. He writes to Ren~ Almeras on 10 May 1647: "Oh, Monsieur, what a happiness to will nothing but what God wills, to do nothing but what is in accord with the occasion providence presents, and to have noth-ing but what God in his providence has given us!" (SVIII, 188). St. Vincent's teaching on providence rests on two foundation stones: (I) deep confidence in God as a loving father and (2) indifference, that is, detachment from anything that impedes us from "willing only what he wills" (see SVV, 403). Trust in providence is the ability to place oneself in the hands of God as a loving father. "Let us give ourselves to God," Vincent March-April 1995 211 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited says repeatedly to the Vincentians and to the Daughters of Charity.8 He has deep confidence in God as his Father, into whose hands he can place himself and his works. The journal written by Jean Gicquel recounts how Vincent, on 7 June 1660, just four months before his death, said to Fathers ~klmeras, Berthe, and Gicquel: "To be consumed for God, to have no goods or power except for the purpose of consuming them for God--that is what our Savior did himself, who was consumed for love of his Father" (SVXIII, 179). Vincent wanted love for God to be all-embracing. He writes to Pierre Escart: "I greatly hope we may set about stripping our-selves entirely of affection for anything that is not God, be attached to things only for God and according to God, and that we may seek and establish his kingdom first of all in ourselves and then in others. That is what I entreat you to ask of him for me." (SVII, 106). Vincent is profoundly convinced that, because God loves us deeply as a father, he exercises a continual providence in our lives. He tells the Daughters: "To have confidence in providence means that we should hope that God takes care of those who serve him, as a husband takes care of his wife or a father of his child. That is how--and far more truly--God takes care of us. We have only to abandon ourselves to his guidance, as the Rule says, just as 'a little child does to its nurse.' If she puts it on her right arm, the child is quite content; if she moves him over to her left, he does not care; he is quite satisfied provided he has her breast. We should, then, have the same confidence in divine providence, see-ing that it takes care of all that concerns us, just as a nursing mother takes care of her baby." (SVX, 503). Speaking of the providence which Jesus himself has for his followers, Vincent tells Jean Martin in 1647: "So, Father, let us ask our Lord that everything may be done in accordance with his providence, that our wills be submitted to him in such a way that between him and us there may be only one, which will enable us to enjoy his unique love in time and in eternity" (SVIII, 197). One notes here again the strong influence of Benedict of Canfield on Vincent. Indifference, for Vincent, is detachment from all things that would keep us from God. It sets us free to be united with him, dis-posihg us to will only what he wills. It is indispensably linked with trust in providence. He tells Louise de Marillac how close our 212 Review for Religious Lord is to all who cooperate with his will. He repeats this advice to her again and again: "It is necessary to accept God's way of acting toward yotir Daughters, to offer them to him, and to remain in peace. The Son of God saw his company dispersed and almost wiped out forever. You must unite your will with his.''9 He speaks lyrically to the Daughters of Charity on the theme: "To do the will of God is to begin paradise in this world. Give me a Daughter who does for her whole life the will of God. She begins to do on earth what the blessed do in heaven. She begins her paradise even in this world" (SV IX, 645). Some Horizon Shifts between the 17th and 20th Centuries ¯ The problematic which I have described in my article on the cross applies to providence as well; I will not, therefore, repeat it here.1° A theology of the cross and a theology of providence are closely intertwined. This is evident in the writings of St. Vincent and St. Louise, where the two themes often occur in the same context,li Keeping in mind what has already been stated about the cross, here I will mention only briefly two other factors that influence the way one views providence, namely, two horizon shifts that have taken place between Vincent's time and ours. We have moved from an era which emphasized direct causality to one which focuses on secondary causes and emphasizes the autonomy of the human person. This shift was already taking place in Vincent's time. Today it is very much a part of the air We breathe. In a scientific era one focuses on empirical data. Both well-being and disease are attributed to discernible causes, rather than directly to God. Even when the cause of a diseaseis unknown, we search for it today with the conviction that it will eventually be found. In that con-text, attributing good or evil to God's providence can sometimes sound quaint or occasionally hollow. Even worse, when someone is confronted with serious problems, the exhortation to abandon oneself to provider~ce may run contrary to prudence, which urges us to seek remedies for our ills. Of course, this shift in emphasis is not an entirely new way of looking at things. Catholic moral theology has, in fact, consis-tently placed strong emphasis on the role of secondary causes, March-April 199Y 213 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited since it has always placed great emphasis on human responsibil-ity. Moreover, Catholic systematic theology, with its stress on mediation, has often similarly accented secondary causes.~2 Particularly since Gaudium et spes, Catholic theology has empha-sized the autonomy of the human person (see GS §§4, 9, 12, 14, 15, 22). One is surely slower today than in Vincent's time to attribute things directly to God when they are more evidently of human doing. We are conscious too that this way of thinking "lets God be God," so to speak. It recognizes his ultimate autonomy, his com-plete otherness. It recognizes too that his causality does not dimin-ish human freedom, but is the ground for it; in fact, dependence on God and genuine human autonomy increase, rather than decrease, in direct proportion to one another.13 God's power does not enslave human beings; it empowers them (see GS §34). In this perspective the human person is seen as being in pro-cess, as incomplete, as openness to the absolute. Change is accepted not only as inevitable, but as desirable. Rapid change, moreover, has become part of life, and its rate seems to be grow-ing exponentially. In an age of computers, we are convinced-that we can "make things happen" and that we can eventually find the solution to almost all problems that arise. There has been a shift from a static way of viewing the world to a his-torical way. The ways in which we view the world, the human person, and God are intimately intertwined. Our view of providence is affected by all of these. Different ways of viewing these realities charac-terize different epochs, but they often also exist simultaneously within the same epoch. Here, let me briefly describe three.~4 In a static understanding, such as prevailed in the 15th and 16th centuries and into Vincent's time, the view of the human person is ahistorical. Society's established orders are accepted as divinely willed. External laws and rules prevail. The political, economic, and social spheres are governed by the established laws. Within this context the emphasis in one's view of God is on the Absolute, the All-Powerful, the Omnipresent, the Omniscient. In speaking of providence one sees God as ruling over all and directing all. Faith in providence takes the form of abandonment and absolute confidence in God's plan, which never fails. As is evident, this perspective has brought rich benefits to the lives of 214 Review for Religious many saints, including Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac, but there is a danger for some that this understanding of God's providence can lead to escapism or lack of responsibility. In a personalist understanding of reality, which has emerged increasingly since the 18th century as the "rights of man" have come to be emphasized, the autonomy and liberty of the human person come to the fore. Human responsibility and creativity are accented. In ethics the emphasis lies on interiorization and conscience. In theology, history and process are highlighted. The church is seen as the Body of Christ. In speaking of God one emphasizes his per-sonal love as Father. In talking about prov-idence, one sees God as guiding us all in our personal histories. God loves us. He walks with us. He leads us. While there are many advantages to this perspective, par-ticularly on the level of conviction about God's love and the need for personal conversion, there is a dan-ger that this understanding of God and providence can fall into "intimism." In a sociohistorical understanding of reality, the emphasis is on ¯ the interrelationship of people within a societal context and the building up of the human family. In ethics social responsibility is highlighted. The transformation of society and sociopolitical real-ity is underlined. Sin too shows up as social.15 There is a call to change unjust social structures. In theology the trinitarian God is emphasized. The church is viewed as the people of God, living in a permanent exodus. When one speaks of providence, one speaks of God as the liberator of his people, freeing them from the bonds of oppression. This perspective has the advantage of moving toward the concrete and fundamental resolution of social problems that keep the poor poor; for some it bears the risk of falling into an activism that loses focus on God's ways. God's power does not enslave human beings; it empowers them. Revisiting Providence Today There is much reexamination of providence today, with a view toward articulating a theology that, while recognizing various levels of causality, accounts for both the rational and irrational March-April 1995 215 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited within human existence and can find meaning where we experi-ence chaos, disorder, violence, and apathy.16 A theology of prov-idence is at root a theology of meaning. It seeks to bridge the gap between the polarities of human experience: design/chaos, health/sickness, life/death, grace/sin, care/noncare, plan/disrup-tion, peace/violence. Ministers of providence are those men and women whose lives witness to meaning and who can speak mean-ing. Docility to providence is an attitude of reverent trust before the mystery of God as revealed in Christ, in whom life, death, and resurrection are integrated.17 Trust in providence means rootedness in a loving, personal God. Belief in providence shows itself throughout history not so much in credal statements as in the trusting words of daily prayer. It is inseparable from faith in a loving, personal God. The human mind balks at mystery. Yet we encounter it again and again at the base of our deepest joys and our deepest sorrows. Birth, death, beauty, tragedy--all are shrouded in mystery. We continually struggle to reconcile opposites, to plumb the depths of life and death. As early as the 5th century B.C., the Greeks, particularly the Stoics, used the term proT?idence to denote a rational order of things where a divine reason pervades everything. This term enters the Old Testament rather late in the books of Job and Wisdom, where it joins an earlier strain that focuses not so much on a philo-sophical concept of cosmic harmony as on God acting in history. This fundamental Old Testament belief sees God as allied with his people. He is active in creating, covenanting, chastising, forgiv-ing, liberating. He is with his people both in their conquests and in their captivity. He goes with them into exile, and he returns with them. "Can a mother forget her infant, be without tender-ness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. See, upon the palms of my hands I ha~e written your name" (Is 49:15-16). This provident.God of the Hebrew Scriptures is the God of Jesus Christ. He is the Father whom Jesus loves and who cap-tures his entire attention. Jesus' death and resurrection are the ultimate proclamation of providence. At the heart of New Testament faith is belief in a personal God, who reveals himself as Father in his Son, Jesus, who takes on human flesh. Jesus him-self struggles with the mysteries of life, growth, success, desertion 216 Review for Religious by his followers, pain, and death. He finds the resolution o.f the struggle not in some clearly stated philosophy that he outlines for future ages, but in commending himself into the hands of his Father. He trusts that his Father loves him deeply and that he can bring joy from sorrow, life from death. The New Testament, reflecting on Jesus' experience, tells us again and again to focus on the personal love of God for us. Jesus extols, in a passage that Vincent loved, God's providence for his children: "Consider the lilies of the field. They do not work; they do not spin. Yet I assure you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was arrayed like one of these. If God can clothe in such splendor the grass of the field, which blooms today and is thrown on the fire tomorrow, will he not provide much more for you, O weak in faith.".18 Luke's writings, especially, highlight God's providence.19 The Spirit of the Father and of Jesus is active from the beginning in Luke, guiding the course of history. He anoints Jesus with power from on high and directs him and his dis-ciples in their ministry.2° One of the crucial signs of faith in a personal God is confi-dent prayer. The very act of praying states that we believe that God is alive, that he relates to us, that he listens, that he cares about our journey, that he hears the cries of the poor especially, and that he responds. It is for this reason that Luke's Gospel insists so frequently on trusting, persistent prayer.2~ Docility to providence is an attitude of reverent trust before the mystery of God as revealed in Christ, in whom life, death, and resurrection are integrated. Trust in providence is the ability to hope in God's wisdom and power. Trust in providence implies trust that there is an unseen wis-dom that guides the events of history and that is able to reconcile opposites. We sometimes get glimpses of a larger picture where tragedy works for good. Destructive floods provide fertile land March-April 199Y 217 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited for the future. Enormous fires ravage forests, doing huge damage, but purifying them for luxuriant growth in the future. Pain and suffering at times mature a person and help him or her to grow in compassion and understanding for others. In a striking Greek myth, the infant Demopho6n is placed in the care of the divine mother Demeter, who caresses him, nurses him, breathes on him, and anoints him with ambrosia. At night she places him in a fire to make him immortal. When his mother dis-covers this, she cries out in fear. But Demeter responds: "You do not know when fate is bringing you something good or some-thing bad!" Demeter is giving a lesson in nursing. She shows that motherhood involves nurturing not only in human ways, but also in divine ways. Holding the child in the fire is a way of burning away those el

Issue 34.5 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous ts edited by faculty members of the School of DIvlmty of St Louts University, the edttorlal ol~ces bemg located at 612 Humboldt Buddmg, 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 (~) 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. S!ngle copies: $1.75. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). 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 ad~ciress. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Galicn, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1975 Volume 34 Number 5 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 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, Pennsyl-vania 19131. / ;" ~: :°~Vith these ,words Po o ~t only for Jesmts,~but-~f6r all~rehg~ous;~ )s wh6, .in ~varyingways, ~dentff, y:.o. 671 A Survey of the Thirty-second General Congregation John R. Sheets, S.J. Fr. Sheets, chairman of the theology department of Creighton University and director of its new Masters Degree in Christian Spirituality program, was an elected delegate of his province (Wisconsin) at the 32nd General Congregation. He resides at Creighton University; 2500 Califor-nia St.; Omaha, NB 68178. The Thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus began on December 2, 1974. It finished its work on March 7, 1975. The Holy See authorized the promulgation of its decrees on May 2, 1975. In this article I will attempt to set down in an intelligible way a description of what went on during those ninety-six days, especially for (hose who are not Jesuits but who are in-terested in the congregation. Having gone over once again both the official documents and the Acta of the congregation, and having tried to recapture.my own experience over those days, I feel keenly the limitations of what follows. In the first place, it is difficult to give a survey of the vast amount of material covered by the various commissions;-secondly, it is hard to detail my own ex-perience without writing an autobiography; thirdly, it would take someone with both a sense of historical detail and a journalistic flair to present the in-terplay that took place among the various identifiable groups within the con-gregation, and also what took place between the Vatican and the congregation. In spite of these reservations, I hope that the observations that follow might provide some insight into what happened, and at the same time provide a counterweight to impressions given to the public through the general press. For me personally the congregation was the peak experience of my life. I am still trying to sort out the reasons for this. There is the obvious fact of hav-ing been part of a decision-making body whose decrees could have momentous importance for the Societ), of Jesus and for the Church at a very critical mo- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 673 ment in history. Again there was the experience of being "companions in the Lord" with two hundred and thirty-six other Jesuits from all over the world, united in the same Ignatian vision, sharing a common purpose, praying and working together to formulate with the help of the Holy Spirit responses to what the Church and the world ask of the Society today. The "honeymoon experience" of the first days gave way, as the weeks went on, to the .experience of fatigue, the perplexities of the search for the proper wording, the experience of working on disparate problems at the same time, without any clear point of convergence. Added to these was the experience of the interaction between the Vatican and the congregation which brought with it great anguish. However, it was also perhaps the experience that changed the congregation from a group of planners relying much on our own wisdom into something approximating an instrument of the Holy Spirit. The whole experience of the congregation in many ways paralleled what a person goes through in making the Spiritual Exercises, where one is subject to the movement of different spirits. On the one hand, it was the occasion of the greatest consolation; on the other, 1 have never in my life experienced such heaviness of heart. There were moments when one could almost feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, particularly at the concelebrated liturgies where one was drawn into the mystery of the communio jesuitarum, both the living and the dead, ~hrough our sharing in the Eucharist. Certainly the con-celebrated Mass, celebrated on the opening day of the congregatiofi in the Gesu, a church hallowed by the memories of Ignatius, Xavier and the early history of the Society, with seven hundred Jesuits participating, was one such moving experience. But if there were consolations, there were also periods of desolation, the worst desolation I have ever experienced. These came from the pall of uncer-tainty cast over the congregation from the communications of the Holy Father through Cardinal Villot in reference to the way the congregation had proceeded on a particular point concerning the Fourth Vow in the Society. This was also the occasion for the Holy Father to remark with pain that he detected from the Acta of the congregation attitudes among the delegates which were at variance with the kind of disposition a Jesuit should have toward the Pope. To be frank, however, it was not so much the interventions of the Holy Father that depressed me. In fact, as events would show, he was under the im-pression that we had received a specific communication on the subject that he had given to one of the delegates to be transmitted to us. But because of a mis-understanding the delegate did not in fact communicate it, and the congrega-tion learned about it only after we had taken a step which seemed to con-travene directly the explicit instruction of the Holy Father. To me the tone of his and Cardinal Villot's letter, while severe, was comprehensible in the light of this misunderstanding on the communication of their earlier message. What was far more upsetting was the sudden change in the mental climate of the congregation. Somewhere Kierkegaard mentions that the sudden is the 1574 / Review for, Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 category of the demonic. In the course of only minutes, the demon of rumor, suspicion and recrimination was let loose. Suddenly it all fitted into a kind of master plot to discredit Fr. Arrupe, bring about his resignation, and bring to nothing the efforts of the congregation. No one knew who the enemies were, but some gave the impression that there was one hiding behind every column in the Vatican. Among the memories which will always be with me are the occasions when I used to walk in St. Peter's Square at night, when it was deserted, except for a police car and a few pa~sers-by. The majestic beauty of the facade of St. Peter's, bathed by the light of the moon, the beauty of the fountains flashing in the lights, the Vatican apartments with a light here and there, formed a setting of peace which seemed to overflow into me, particularly when events occurred which plunged the congregation into gloom. Looking back over those difficult periods I am certain that if it were not for the example and leadership of Fr. Arrupe we would have lost courage. He transmitted to us both by word and example a sense of the working of God's providence and the life-through-death process in which we were engaged. We were faced with the humbling and humiliating fact that we experts who were supposed to discern the signs of the times could not discern a sign that was much closer to us. In many ways the misunderstandings did not "have to be," when one looks at them from a human point of view. The reports from the press about con-frontation, maneuver and counter-maneuver were the product of journalistic imagination. The sad fact is that pain was caused by people who were trying their utmost to act with responsibility to the Holy Father and to the Society. But I have probably got ahead of myself. All I wanted to do in these in-troductory remarks was to point out that for me personally the experience of those three months led by the diverse paths of joy and anguish to a deeper ex-perience of the ways of God, that "If Yahweh does not build the house, in vain the masons toil." The Procedure Followed in the Business of the Congregation In preparation for this congregation there had been four years of highly organized participation on the level of the local communities and the provinces. The extent of this participation varied. In general, however, it had a beneficial result in creating the awareness that this congregation would grow out of the discernment that took place on the local level rather than work from the top down. Perhaps some might consider that this was a waste of time and money when we measure the results of those years of preparation, and the little impact that it had directly on the congregation. However, the minimal result of this preparation was that at least we did not come into the work of the congregation cold, but had some awareness of the problems that confront us, as there were seen by a large segment of the Society. For those who are not familiar with the structure of the Society of Jesus, a few words of explanation may be helpful. In the Society of Jesus the supreme A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 675 authority is vested in the General Congregation. It does not meet at regular in-tervals, but only on two occasions, either to elect a new superior general, or to face a particular state of affairs which can be handled only by the highest authority of the Society. Of the thirty-two congregations that have met in the four hundred and thirty-five years of the Society's history, all except seven have been called to elect a new superior general. When, therefore, in 1970 Fr. Arrupe decided to call a General Congregation to convene after appropriate preparation, he felt that the state of the Society needed to be reviewed. It was an opportune time, since ten years would have elapsed since Vatican II and our last congregation. Delegates to a General Congregation are basically of two kinds: the provincial superiors, who attend by right of office, who make up ap-proximately one-third of the membership of a congregation and the other two-thirds who are elected. The only delegates who were unable to attend the 32nd General Congregation were a few from behind the Iron Curtain. Their unoc-cupied desks remained an ever-present symbol to the assembly of the oppres-sion of the Church in various areas. In spite of these absences, there were two hundred thirty-six delegates present. In the Society of Jesus the agenda is made up after the congregation con-venes. It is based mainly on the postulates (requests) submitted either from in-dividual Jesuits or provinces. Contrary to what one might suspect, there is probably no more democratic legislative group than is to be found in the General Congregation. Any Jesuit can send in postulates either through his province or directly, as an individual to the General Congregation. All of these are considered on their merits independently of their source. Over one thousand postulates were submitted. After a preliminary analysis, it was seen that they could be organized according to ten categories. Ten commissions were set up roughly corresponding to these ten categories. Initially the commissions had a membership of about twenty-five each, com-posed of representatives from different parts of the Society. Later, for the sake of efficiency in composing the documents emerging from the commissions, the number was reduced to four or five. The amount of work that went into the final draft of the documents was enormous. The work of the commission would be submitted to the whole assembly, receive revisions (or even be re-jected), be returned to the commission; then again be submitted to the assembly, with a repetition of the same procedm:e, until the assembly was satisfied with it. The whole assembly convened in a large hall that had been especially renovated for the congregation. Electronic equipment was installed to provide simultaneous translation. Voting was done by means of a small switch at each desk. In the front of the hall in full view of all the delegates was a large elec-tronic board, with indicator lights arranged accordihg to the seating plan in the hail. This board registered the votes with a green light if affirmative or a red, if negative. At the top of the board was a place where the total affirmative and negative vote would register immediately after the vote was taken. All ~'~' ~ ~.~. 676;~ R~i~.w for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 voting~'~bhe exception," was public. The exception came at the request of the congregatiori ~hen it came to vote on the question of grades in the Society. Doubtless this pr0ce.dure was intended to provide the general with the oppor-tunity to vote in a way that would not compromise him in whatever future ac-tions he would have to take.as a result of the vote. The Main Themes Seventeen documents issued from the congregation, most of them originating from the ten commissions which had been established. Other documents came from special commissions appointed as the need arose. Though the documents differ in content, some common themes run throughout. Perhaps the main theme reflected in the documents is that of mission. Related to this is a reawakened awareness of the Society as a whole, of which the local communities are part. The Society, while it exists also for the sanc-tification of its members, takes its special meaning from its apostolic orienta-tion. This apostolic orientation is specified by its relationship to the Holy See, particularly through the Fourth Vow, and in its service to the Church through the promotion and defense of the faith. A characteristic of this apostolic orienta-tion is adaptability to the needs of particular times and places. In our day this involves an overriding concern to overcome the injustices which oppress so many millions of people. However, in all of its apostolic work, the goal and the means it uses are to be consistent with the tradition of the Society as set forth in its Formula of the Institute which sets forth its fundamental pontifical law. This ties in with the identity of the Society, a theme that is both the subject of one particular document and one that runs through all of the others as well. The Society is a priestly, apostolic body, bound to the Holy See in a special way for the defense and promotion of the faith. The sense of mission involves not only working with those who are op-pressed but it also involves becoming identified with them as far as this is possible. Our poverty, therefore, which has its juridical as well as evangelical aspects, takes on a particular experiential mode in so far as, by it, we can iden-tify with the poor. The decree that has to do with union of hearts and minds is also intimately related to the nature of the Society as an apostolic body. Ignatius clearly saw that the Society's apostolate depended first of all on the union of the members with God, and then derivatively on their union with one another. One theme which is conspicuous is that of repentence. The Society acknowledges that it has failed in recent years to live up to those characteristics which were suppose to distinguish it, such as obedience, loyalty to the Holy See, fidelity tO the principles of the religious life. The State of the Society One of the commissions set up early in the order of business was the one charged to examine the state of the Society. Its purpose was to form some A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 677 kind of an evaluation of the condition of the Jesuit order at this point in its history, assessing both its weaknesses and its strengths. To provide this com-mission with input, the delegates met in small groups over a period of several days. These small groups were of two kinds: what were called "assistancy groups" (for example, all of the American Jesuits belong to one "assistancy," the French to another, etc.), and "language groups," composed of people from different countries who had some facility in their own and other languages (German-English, French-English, Spanish-French, etc.) These groups dis-cussed the state of the Society in reference to key points such as formation of Jesuits, religious observance, the apostolate. These sessions broadened the practical knowledge each of us had of the Society and helped to create among us an awareness of community. They were also informative, first of all in bringing us to realize that many of the problems were common, with varying degrees of acuteness, while others were peculiar to a particular section of the Society. A criticism which many of us in the western world resonated with came from one of the German provincials in my group when he said that the image that the Society in Germany gives is that of B~rgerlichkeit, which in English connotes a comfortable, gentlemanly, middle-class existence. On the other hand, the situation of the Jesuits from behind the Iron Cur-tain, some of whom were also in my language group, has spared them some of the enervating effects of secularization. For one reason, their apostolate, where they are able to exercise it, is mostly pastoral work; secondly, their precarious existence serves to keep their faith at a high level of vitality. The delegates from the Third World countries brought other emphases. From the Spanish speaking countries there was a strong orientation toward social change, bringing with it problems of political involvement and the degree to which such involvement could subscribe to an ideology which often had Marxist overtones. In other regions, such as Africa, Indonesia and the Far East, one of the main problems is "inculturation," embodying the faith and the spirit of the Society in forms peculiar to their own cultures. As part of this evaluation on the state of the Society, Fr. General himself gave a picture of the way he sees the Society at the present, as a body which is very much alive, but with certain illnesses. He also gave a detailed description of his own relationship with the Holy See and the other officials in the Vatican, providing afterwards an opportunity for the delegates to question or discuss any of the points he had brought up. The document on the state of the Society which came out as a result of all this exchange is not one of the papers published to the Society. It was intended only for the delegates and their work in the congregation itself. However, the document is not in fact that useful. Its main value was in providing the oppor-tunity for the delegates to familiarize,themselves with the state of the Society through their live exchanges with one another. A document of this kind by its nature remains general, and gives little sense of the extent and import of either the positive or negative points. 671~ / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 The Work of the Commissions As was mentioned above, ten commissions were formed, more or less along the lines of the categories of material received in the postulates. While a few others later came into being and some of the original ones were changed, these ten commissions formed pretty much the working base of the Congrega-tion. Risking over-simplification, they could be divided into those which looked mainly inward, for example, about our "grades," the Fourth Vow, for-mation, final incorporation into the Society (final vows), central government, the constitution of provincial and general congregations; those which looked outward, namely, the mission of the Society today, inculturation, the service of the Society to the Church; and finally those which look both inward and outward, for example, on union of hearts, the Jesuit today. Some comments on a few of the documents might contribute to a better understanding of them. 1. The Mission of the Society Today The decree which took up the lion's share of the time, and which provided the platform for most of the rhetoric was the one that dealt with the mission of the Society today. The very nature of the topic explains why it took so long to come up with a satisfactory formulation. It involves an articulation that had to bring together the old and the new: fidelity to the essentials of the Society's apostolic nature, and coming to grips with the needs of today. While such a formulation has its own difficulties, the problem was exacer-bated by an initially one-sided approach and by the impression that some gave of using language more appropriate to political parties than to a religious group attempting to clarify its mission. The initial approach was largely horizontal, too much concentrated on the socio-economic aspects, with too lit-tle of the priestly. In the effort to make the congregation conscious of the urgency of these problems there was a tendency to absolutize what was in fact only one aspect of the Society's apostolate. One of the observations offered by Cardinal Villot in the letter in which he com-municated the Pope's authorization to promulgate the work of the congregation pertains to this decree. He stresses an important point, which is already present in the decree, but which deserves emphasis, namely, that the total work of evangelization has a comprehen-sion that cannot be reduced to working for social justice, and secondly that there is a priestly way of working for social justice that is distinct from the proper role of the laity. No one can judge from the final document how much work went into it. If one were tothink of a carpenter shop filled with shavings, and one tiny cabinet to show for the work, the comparison would be apt. The final decree, though somewhat diffuse, manages to relate the fundamental apostolic orientation of the Jesuit life as a priestly order to the promotion of faith which in the real-life situation is inseparable from the promotion of justice. 2. Poverty The. subject of poverty has continued to bedevil our recent congregations. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation ] 679 As everyone knows, there are two main aspects to what is called religious poverty: the juridical and the evangelicalwor the personal appropriation of the values of evangelical poverty. The decree on poverty, probably the most im-portant document to come out of the congregation, has two parts, the first be-ing more inspirational and exhortatory, while the second is juridical, setting down a basic reform in the structures of our institutional practice of poverty. It is not possible to enter into the technicalities of the juridical part of the decree since it presupposes some knowledge of the structure of the Society. Suffice it to say that the decree formulates what is, to my mind, a creative way of realizing for our own times the Ignatian ideal of poverty, taking into con-sideration the different socio-economic conditions of the twentieth and six-teenth centuries. On the personal side, frugality, the sense of being part of the kenotic mystery of Christ, dependence on the community, and identification with the poor are stressed. in his letter, Cardinal Villot makes two points concerning this decree. After commenting on the fact that the Holy Father was aware of the immense amount of work that had gone into this decree, which attempts to relate the traditional practice of poverty in the Society to the needs of our times, he says that considering the newness of the approach, it would be better to promulgate the decree ad experimentum, to be reviewed in the next General Congregation. He also cautions that the decree should not jeopardize the Society's traditional approach to gratuity of ministries. 3. Grades and the Fourth Vow No other subject discussed by the congregation received as much attention from the press as that of our "grades" and the Fourth Vow. As I remarked above, the delegates had proceeded in a spirit of obedience to the Holy Father's wishes, but in the spirit of Ignatian obedience which allows represen-tation of one's case to the superior, with full openness, however, to the final decision of the superior. But, as I mentioned above, the delegates were not aware of an important communication from the Holy Father which he had given to one of the officials manifesting his mind clearly on the topic. We were made aware of this special communication only after we had proceeded in good faith to take up the question, and to give an "indicative" votewone that is not definitive, but from which it is possible to infer the mind of the delegates. The indicative vote was overwhelmingly in favor of abolishing grades. One can imagine the consternation of the Holy Father when he read of the results of this in the Acta, a copy of which he received regularly, especially when he learned that we had not been given his specific directive on this matter which had been communicated to one of the officials of the congregation. This unfortunate series of events precipitated a strong response from the Vatican. First there was a letter from Cardinal Villot in the name of the Holy Father expressing his consternation at the proceedings. Later there was a letter from the Holy Father himself, tin which he expressed his wonderment, pain, disappointment. What the delegates found particularly difficult to understand in Cardinal Viilot's letter was the strong language used about the failure of Fr. Arrupe to exercise the proper kind of leadership that could have headed off this series of unfortunate events. I~1~0 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 While the delegates were still reeling from this unexpected turn of events, they learned of the directive that had been given by Cardinal Villot to one of the officials to be given to the congregation. The official explained before the whole congregation that he had not understood that he was supposed to transmit this directive to the delegates in any official way. This was a costly mistake. Yet in some ways I think it was a felix culpa because of the benefits which came out of it, as I shall comment below. At this point I should say something about the meaning of the grades and the Fourth Vow for those unfamiliar with the Society's structure and legisla-tion. When the idea of the Society was evolving in the mind and experience of Ignatius, one of the features that emerged was a conception of having membership in the Society on different levels, or "grades." For those with their final vows, there were to be three levels or grades. First of all, there are the "solemnly professed," with solemn vows of poverty, chastity, obedience, and a Fourth Vow of special obedience to the Holy Father in regard to mis-sions, that is, apostolic commissions. In the past one hundred years about 40% of Jesuit priests have belonged to this grade. In the mind of Ignatius the professed were supposed to exemplify to a special degree what he looked for in every Jesuit, proficiency in learning, a high degree of virtue, mobility, a life supported only by free-will offerings, exemplifying in their lives a similar relationship to the Vicar of Christ that the disciples showed toward Christ Himself. In addition, key positions in government were reserved to the professed, such as the office of provincial. Again, only the professed could take part in a General Congregation. In the second place, there were priests whose final vows were simple, not solemn. Without going into detail on the differences between solemn and sim-ple vows, it is sufficient to remark here that for one thing they differ accord-ing to the seriousness of the reasons needed for dispensation. This grade is that of "spiritual coadjutor." Members of this grade do not take the vow of special obedience to the Holy Father. In the third place, there are "temporal coadjutors" or brothers. Their final vows are also simple vows of poverty, chast.ity, and obedience. They have the same apostolic purpose as the priests, but have a different way of contributing to the realization of it. The grades are a feature that are peculiar to the Society. As one would sur-mise, the distinction has not been an unmixed blessing in the history of the Society. Though Ignatius never conceived of a Society which would have privileged and unprivileged castes, human nature being what it is, the results were predictable. Since human nature associates power with authority, the professed came to be considered as a kind of first-class type of Jesuit, and the non-professed as second-class. In recent years there has been much historical research on the origin of the ~grades. Also there has been considerable discussion whether the distinction of ~the grades was inextricably tied up with the vision of St. Ignatius, or whether it was something that with the change of times no longer served a purpose. The A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Thirty-first General Congregation did not face the question head-on. It con-tented itself with broadening the norms by which a person could be admitted to profession. It also transmitted the final solution of the problem to the Thirty-second General Congregation. The intervention of the Holy Father did not directly concern grades. He limited himself to the question of the Fourth Vow, which he said could not be extended to non-priests. This intimates that the Holy Father was concerned not simply about a juridical division in the Society which could be changed by another law, but about a theological question concerning the relationship between the priestly identity of those who take the Fourth Vow and the mis-sions which are the direct object of the vow. Again (I am speculating) the intervention of the Holy Father might be a healthy reminder in this age of blurring all distinctions for the sake of dubious notions of equality, that differentiation in functions does not necessarily mean division. Reserving the Fourth Vow to priests helps to keep the priestly focus of the apostolic work of the Society which has characterized it from the begin-ning. This need not create first- and second-class citizens, but it could engender an awareness that there are different gifts within the same body by which the same goal is realized. 4. The Union of Hearts A commission without a name was set up as a kind of catchall to handle four topics that on the surface had little unity: the question of union and pluralism, communal discernment, religious life, and community life. Since I was a member of this commission from beginning to end, I feel more in touch with it than with the other commissions. It was a kind of a "Benjamin" com-mission compared with those set up to handle the "important" topics like mis-sion, grades, poverty, etc. Ironically, Benjamin was suddenly given an importance late in the con-gregation. The Holy Father in his intervention had commented on the fact that he had heard a lot about mission and justice, but little about renewal of the religious life, even though we had already been at it for two months. So all of a sudden the pressure was on to come up with something significant along those lines. The final document on union of hearts is a contemporary commentary, on Chapter One of Part VIII of our Constitutions, "Aids Toward the Uniori of Hearts." Under this heading the commission found a focus which could unite the various topics given to it. Much effort was spent in an attempt to formulate a clear statement on the subject of union and pluralism. Many of the postulates asked for such a state-ment, some of them stressing the harm coming from internal divisions, others emphasizing the need for a "healthy pluralism." Eventually the commission decided that a theoretical statement would not be helpful. Instead it for-mulated, along with principles on which union of hearts is based, certain prac-tical directives on prayer, community life, sacraments, and communal discern-ment. 682 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 The subject of communal discernment received a lot of discussion. Some wanted to turn it into a kind of Aladdin's lamp which could call forth some kind of a jinni. Others were more skeptical over the possibility of univer-salizing the practicableness of such a process. The final statement in the docu-ment attempts to locate communal discernment within the spectrum of various kinds of spiritual exchange within a community, not exaggerating its role, but on the other hand recognizing the value that it has when the right dispositions and circumstances are present. Incidentally about midway through the congregation, an ad hoc commis-sion was also established to see whether the congregation itself could not carry on its work through a method of communal discernment. After a couple of meetings, it dissolved, because it felt that proceeding according to a formal method of communal discernment was impractical for the congregation because of the large numbers involved and the wide range of subjects on the agenda. 5. The Jesuit Today In the light of the diversity that has appeared in Jesuit life over the past ten years, it was felt necessary to have a statement which would describe the meaning of being Jesuit today. The congregation was presented with five different papers, each of which approached the subject of Jesuit identity from different points of view. They opted for the one which now appears among the official decrees. The decree relates Jesuit identity today in a very simple way to our Igna-tian tradition, to our apostolic mission, and to the source, center, and goal of Jesuit life, which is the imitation of Christ. The Holy See and the General Congregation We have already commented on the intervention of the Holy See in regard to the subject of extending the Fourth Vow to non-priests. However, this is only an application of something which is much broader. The interest of the Holy See in this congregation is unparalleled in the whole history of the Society. Perhaps this comes from the fact that Pope Paul had a keen sense of its importance for the Society and for the Church itself. I have just finished once again going over the papal documents, beginning with the letter written to Fr. Arrupe on September 15, 1973, which the Holy Father wrote after Fr. General had announced the convening of the General Congregation, and concluding with the covering letter which was added to the approbation of the decrees. There is one theme running through all of these communications: the necessity of being faithful to the distinctive nature of the Society as it is expressed in the Formula of the Institute, a distinctiveness which has proved its fruitfulness over hundreds of years of experience. Specifically, the Society is described time and time again as a priestly apostolic order, with a special bond of obedience to the Holy See. There is, to be sure, a stress on the need to adapt to the needs of our times, but such adap- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation I 683 tation must always maintain the essentials as these are to be found in the For-mula. 1 Pope Paul wrote of his concern for the Society not only as the Vicar of Christ who has responsibility for the whole Church, but in terms which, unless I am mistaken, are unprecedented in the history of this relationship between the Society and the Holy See. He speaks of himself as the one who has the chief responsibility for the preservation of the Formula of the Institute, "supremus 'Formulae Instituti' fideiussor," and the chief protector and preserver of the Formula, "Formulae Instituti supremus tutor ac custos." It would not be true to say that all of the delegates responded with un-qualified enthusiasm to the interventions of the Holy Father. Though all recognized his right in abstracto to intervene, a~nd the corresponding attitude of obedience to which we were obliged and, which all gave without contesta-tion, nevertheless when the interventions came in this particular way, with these particular words and in this particular timing, there were signs of ruffled feelings. In case anyone needed reminding, we learned in the process that the delegates as a whole, while good and responsible men, are not yet ready for canonization. However, we did see in an exemplary way the incarnation of Jesuit obedience in at least one person, Fr. Arrupe. This was not something he did just "to give good example." His whole life has been so totalized by his faith that even his perceptions pick up the reality beneath the appearance. He senses the presence of the Vicar of Christ beneath the appearance of Pope Paul. The concern of the Holy Father shown in so many ways over the past few years and in a special way through his vigilance over the activities of the con-gregation are to my way of thinking a special grace for the Society. In a way that we never planned on, the interventions of the Holy Father brought us to a level of faith we would not have reached by ourselves. It also brought us to a realization that the Society is a servant of the Church. In some small way the history of this congregation parallels the description of Peter's death, about whom our Lord said, "You will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go" (Jn 21:18). Father Arrupe I have already mentioned that if it were not for Fr. Arrupe's example and leadership the congregation would have capsized under the difficulties it ran into. He constantly called us to a vision we needed in order to see what was happening from a supernatural point of view, and in order to avoid the traps of tNot many Jesuits are aware either of the content or the importance of the Formula of the Institute. Yet, even more than the Constitutions, it is the basic rule or fundamental code of legisla-tion in the Society. It contains the results of the deliberations of Ignatius and his companions in 1539 which provided the first sketch of the Institute of the Society of Jesus. It was first approved by Paul Iil in 1540, then again by Julius 111 in 1550 in a slightly revised form. 684 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 self-pity or recrimination that were only too present. Like one of th~ prophets, he reminded us to see what was happening as coming from the hand of God, and to use it for our own purification and conversion. In a talk given to the delegates on the second day of the congregation, he spoke of the answer that we had to give to the needs of our times. It should be the foolishness of the cross by which Christ redeemed the world, which is the wisdom of God. "In the absolute foolishness of the Cross, the emptying of all things, we find the key to the ultimate solution to the problems of today." In a way we did not foresee, those words were prophetic. Again, he exercised his leadership by leaving the congregation free to follow the paths where its deliberations would take it. In its authority, the General Congregation is superior to the general. Fr. Arrupe always acted with full awareness of this fact. On occasion he would let the delegates know how he felt about certain things, not to pressure them, but in order to make this part of the input of their deliberations. The congregation showed its appreciation of his leadership over the past ten year,s in many ways. There are few who have had to pilot a ship through such a stormy period. The burden has not been easy. But there is always evi-dent in him the same buoyancy and infectious joy that somehow puts him in touch with the Stillpoint that is beyond, above, beneath the storm. Yet, while realizing his outstanding qualities, the delegates did not apotheosize Fr. Arrupe. They realized that with all of his gifts there were also limitations. In fact, the decree which set up a council for the general was framed mainly to supply the kind of help which might balance out the one-sidedness of some of his gifts. Differences Between This Congregation and the Previous Ones The Thirty-second (2ongregati0n had many characteristics which made it very different from any preceding General Congregation. Some of the more important ones might be the following. As was mentioned above, there was a four-year period of preparation for this congregation which was unprecedented. Similarly a few months before the actual opening day a special preparatory commission met to organize the material. This was the first General Congregation where, from the start, traditional rules of secrecy were lifted, except for the prohibition against making public either the names of delegates who spoke on the different questions, or the tally of the votes. Five Jesuit journalists were given free access to the meetings. They published a report about every week that kept the Society informed of the progress of affairs. In this Congregation for the first time the voices of the Third World were not only heard in larger numbers, but they showed a vitality that added zest to the meetings. However, even among these voices there were different accents. All of them were keenly aware of the injustices which oppress their peoples by reason of the exploitation of the capitalistic countries. However, the Spanish- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 685 speaking delegates tended to stress political and social involvement; the Africans continually reminded us of the need for the sense of the transcendent, the specifically God-and-Christ-centered nature of our apostolate; and those from the Far East, while keeping these same perspectives, also stressed the need for approaches that were directed both toward personal conversion and change of the structures. No other congregation has met at a period when there has been such a crisis in vocations. Over the past ten years, the Society has diminished from about 36,000 to 30,000 members. While in some places the number of novices has begun to pick up again, the overall picture remains dim. In 1965 there were 1902 novices compared to 705 in 1974. In the United States there are about 200 novices, showing a slight increase over the past few years. In some coun-tries, however, the picture is dismal. Spain, for example, had 269 novices in 1965. In 1974 it had only 30. Germany had 114 in 1965. At present it has about 30. Similar figures could be given for France, Belgium, Holland, Italy. When one compares the number of scholastics presently in their training with the number of priests engaged in apostolic work, there is only one scholastic for every five priests. This will seriously change the scope of our apostolic work over the next fifty years. Another unique factor was the everpresent concern of the Holy See in regard to the preparation for the congregation, the things taken up, and the final results, as I have mentioned above. The theme was repeated over and over again: be faithful to yourselves, especially to your identity as it is ex-pressed in your Formula of the Institute. The only specific feature which was singled out in the expressions of this concern was fidelity to the lgnatian idea of the Fourth Vow, both positively in the fact that it should be a vital factor in the life of the Society, and negatively in that it should not be extended to non-priests. Again, the fact of asking the congregation to submit its decrees to the Holy See for its approval before they were promulgated was unprecedented. The approbation was given with, in some instances, a few qualifications. Another characteristic which distinguishes this congregation from begin-ning to end and is evident in the decrees is thee theme of repentance. There is a mea culpa, mea maxima culpa evident in the Introductory Decree, the Decree on Mission, on The Jesuit Today, as well as in others. The Society is painfully conscious of its failings over the past ten years. Particularly in contrast to the Thirty-first Congregation, with its stress on freedom, subsidiarity and conscience, this one stressed the complementary features of the limits of pluralism, the need for norms that are applicable for Jesuit life as a whole, the responsibility of superiors for a greater firmness in governing, the importance of the manifestation of conscience both for the spiritual direction of the individual, and the good of the apostolate, the value of communal discernment when the proper conditions are realized. This congregation, unlike others, had a unifying theme throughout: the mission of the Society today. This did not happen because it was planned. There was a kind of unconscious dynamic at work which imperceptibly gave 686 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 this orientation to the various decrees. The consciousness of mission, if fully appropriated in all of its richness, could do much to revivify the Society, over-coming in the first place a great deal of individualism and self-will, and bring-ing about a greater sense of the living presence of Christ sending through His Church, and through superiors. In the actual procedure of the congregation there were unique features arising from the sharing that took place in smaller groups. One of the most im-portant parts of our daily life was the concelebrated Mass which was celebrated according to the different language groupings. Finally this congregation is probably distinctive in the fact that a little over half of the delegates were under forty-nine years old (122 out of the 236). Strengths and Weaknesses of the Congregation Like all meetings of this kind there are both strengths and weaknesses to be found. I could not resist the temptation to say that one of the strengths was un-doubtedly sheer psychological tenacity to "keep at it" for over three months when everyone was exhausted both from the work itself and the emotional strain. But the main strength of the congregation is the sense of solidarity manifest among the delegates and throughout the Society, a solidarity coming from a vision based on faith and brought into an Ignatian focus through the Spiritual Exercises and our Jesuit tradition. However, I think that there are also some deficiences evident in the work and structure of the congregation. Some way has to be found to expedite the carrying out of business. Though it was an attempt to get the input from the whole Society, on balance, the analysis of the postulates took up too much time. And questions of order consumed interminable hours. In regard to particular questions, in retrospect, it might have been a serious mistake not to have separated in some way the question of the Fourth Vow from that of grades. While they are related, they are distinct. And the interven-tion of the Holy See was concerned with the Fourth Vow, and not directly with grades. Again the expression given to the relationship of the Society to the Holy Father is "safe," but it creates the impression of one who is driving a car with one foot on the accelerator and the other on the brake. It does not seem to ex-press the 61an of Jesuit spirituality in its fullness. One reason for this inade-quacy stems from the fact that the congregation came to the topic only in the last few days before it ended, and the members did not have the mental energy or the time to do justice to it. Another difficulty is in the formulation itself. Attempts to combine both the unreserved expression of the spirit of loyalty and the juridical aspect of limits tend to cancel one another out. For example, there were numerous attempts, all sterile, to speak of "mission" in relationship to "doctrine," wherein loyalty would be unreserved in regard to mission, but conditioned in regard to doctrine. Consequently the resulting statement is bland, not nuanced. This will probably be one of the main topics that will have to be taken up at the next General Congregation. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Another deficiency is the fact that the congregation treated those problems which are more obvious because they have a certain shrillness--the problem, for example, of global injustice. Just as important, however, but without the volume being turned up, are questions touching man and technology, par-ticularly the genetic manipulation of man. Again, these questions will probably have to be faced by the next congregation. What to Hope For If the Society as a whole could translate what is set down in the decrees from formulation into fact, it would be renewed. In turn it would become a great force in renewing the Church and the world. What hope is there for such a renewal? The parable of the sower and the seed has its application to the Society as well as to the Church. There are those whose roots are not deep enough to withstand trials. There are others whose life of faith is choked by cares and riches. But then there are the many who do yield fruit, some, a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Decrees, however excellent, are no substitute for the gospel-call to totality. To the degree that individuals open themselves to the radical call of the gospel will they also open themselves to the decrees, which after all are only a faltering attempt to express this radical call in a way that is both Ignatian and contemporary. There are many factors which will contribute to energizing this renewal. Many feel a need for a deeper life of prayer. The importance of spiritual direc-tion is expressing itself strongly. A fuller appropriation of the Spiritual Exercises ¯ through the directed retreat is a great blessing. Again, an important factor is the reinforcement and leadership given to the Society by other religious con-gregations which have already led the way in the renewal of religious life by bringing their lives more in conformity with gospel simplicity and single-mindedness. We can also hope that we will not repeat the mistakes of the past ten years. Considering the turmoil and confusion coming from "future shock," these mistakes are perhaps understandable. But no organization can exist in a state of continuous convulsion. Many of the delegates, in searching for answers to the problems which faced us "discovered" our Thirty-first Congregation, which someone described as the great congregation in the history of the Society. We found that in many cases we could not do better, in fact could hardly come up to the decrees of the Thirty-first. But we also felt like a traveler who had spent hours trying to find his way only to discover after much meandering that there was a map in his glove compartment. The documents of the Thirty-first General Congreg -tion were such a map. The logical question, then, is: why were not the decrees implemented? A still more haunting question is: will the same thing happen to the decrees of this congregation? This was a problem which preoccupied the delegates throughout the whole time. Meetings were held to discuss implementation. But as the saying goes, 61~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 there is many a slip,between the cup and the lip. How much will the Society be able to drink in from the decrees? One of the main sources of hope, in addition to those mentioned above, is a renewed sense of solidarity and confidence among the provincials, and a strong sense of support in Fr. General. In the past ten years very often inaction resulted not from a failure of courage or faith, but because of a blurring of ideas concerning the fundamentals of religious life, often enough because of contradictory views bandied by theologians. The provincials obviously have not suddenly received some formula of universal application to solve all problems, but there is a greater sense of assurance and direction. The weight of implementation turns around the local superiors with the support of the provincials. There is hope here also, because the superiors themselves have a greater sense of their solidarity and of their role as spiritual leaders of the local communities. Ultimately the problem is always the same: conversion. It is something never accomplished once and for all, but continues to repeat its call. There are the perennial obstacles to conversion: inertia, self-love, self-will, the evil spirits that affect us all as individuals. However, it especially in the way that the collectivity reenforces the inertia in individuals that we find the main obstacle today. Group-think and group-feel, in large part created through the media, produce a kind of closedness that filters down from a collective level to in-dividuals, bringing about imperceptibly a closedness in the individual. Each one, young or old, is caught in some degree on this split level of collectivity and self, and suffers from the unfreedom of the collectivity. Jesuits already engaged in the apostolate have to discern how much this group-think affects their personal lives, impeding their personal conversion and the fruitfulness of their apostolate. Jesuits who are in formation have to do the same. The responsibility of those who are in charge of training the younger Jesuits is great. The importance of the congregation comes not from the written decrees but from the support that these decrees give to creating in the Society a different kind of group-think, a "group-feel" based upon the gospel. "My name is legion." Legions can be driven out only by legions. The demonic in collectivity can only be driven out by the embodiment of holiness in collec-tivity. The Society will rise or fall to the extent that the good will of the in-dividual is supported and sustained by a corporate realization of sanctity. No individual can abdicate the responsibility for his own conversion. But in a special way superiors have a responsibility for the whole group. Newman remarked somewhere that good is never done except at the expense of those who do it, and truth is never enforced except at the sacrifice of its propounders. Reformers and prophets have never been well received. Perhaps superiors are destined to enter into that role, not, however, with a martyr complex or heaviness of heart. We have a living example in Fr. Arrupe that it is a role that is compatible with a deep joy. Aiding and facilitating the work of the superiors are the communities A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 689 themselves which are called upon, through community meetings and prayerful discernment, to face their own response to the gospel call to simplicity, and to bridge the gap between the radical response to which we have vowed our lives and the actual way in which we live them. When I asked one of the delegates who was in great part responsible for the formulation of the decree on poverty how optimistic he was about its im-plementation, he said: "When I think of human nature, I am not very op-timistic. But when I think of the power of the Spirit, 1 am hopeful. Everything depends on the Spirit. Legislation can support; it cannot convert. Of ourselves we are weak, but with the power of the Spirit we can overcome, overcome even ourselves." POSITION OPEN The Department of Theology in the School of Religious Studies of the Catholic University of America announces the opening, beginning January, 1976, for: Assistant, Associate or Full Professor in the field of Christian Spiritual Theology. Applications should be sent to:Chairperson Department of Theology Catholic University of America Washington, DC 20064 The Catholic University of America is an equal ol~portunity employer. The Recovery =of Religious Life Bro. Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. Bro. Lawrence J. Cada, S.M. Both authors belong to the Marianist Training Network. Brother Raymond Fitz is director of the Marianist Institute of Christian Renewal and associate professor of Engineering Management and Electrical Engineering at the University of Dayton. He lives at 410 Edgar Avenue; Dayton, Ohio 45410. Brother Lawrence Cada is chairman of the Department of Science and Mathematics at Borromeo College of Ohio and lives at 315 East 149 Street; Cleveland, Ohio 44110. I. Introduction~ How long will the turmoils now besetting religious life last? Are they almost over, and has the process of returning to a more normal situation begun? Or will things stay unsettled for some time to come? This article will argue for the likelihood of the latter alternative. On the basis of the models and analyses presented, the article will try to show that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty to twenty-five years to run its full course. Moreover, the study will seek to demonstrate that social disintegration (loss of membership, lack of vocations, collapse of institutions, etc.) of religious communities in the Church will probably continue for at least the next ten to fifteen years. The most significant questions facing religious life in those ten to fifteen years will center on "death and dying." Many aspects of the life as it has been known will be passing away. Only after these questions are accepted and creatively answered can religious life be expected to be revitalized and renewed within the Church. This process will demand both a recovery of that deep dynamic impulse which first gave rise to religious life in the Church and a recovery from the malaise through which it is now passing: tThis is a draft of a work in progress. Feedback on the content and style of this paper would be ap-preciated. 690 The Recovery of Religious Life hence the title "The Recovery of Religious Life." Although much of this arti-cle argues for the plausibility of these assertions and their implications for the future of religious life, there will also be provided an explanation of how the data were collected and organized, and of what was called important or unim-portant. In this sense, these assertions represent a starting bias that informs the entire article. As such, this bias merits being stated at the outset. The approach taken in this article2 is to explore the questions about the future of religious life from a historical and sociological point of view. In the first two parts of the article, two models are developed: a historical model of the evolution of religious life as a movement in the Church and a sociological model dealing with the organizational life cycle of an individual religious com-munity. Then, in the final sections of the article, these two models will be used to address questions about the present condition of religious life and its future. Every model represents a simplification of reality, and the models in this arti-cle are no exception. To arrive at the questions posed in the final sections, the article will digest and condense large amounts of material drawn from a variety of sources that are partially indicated in the notes. It is hoped that this simplification is not a serious distortion of the facts and that it will arrange the historical and other data in such a way as to provide an overview from which some tentative generalizations can be made. II. The Evolution of Religious Life: A Historical Model Religious communities in the life of the church are not fixed and static en-tities. Taken together they make up a historical process unfolding over time, and religious life can be viewed as a significant social movement in the history of Western Culture. As parts of a movement, religious communities arose in response to dramatic social change in the Church and in the larger cultural and political arena of Western Civilization. They became a dynamic force in shap-ing and cha~ging the Church and secular culture. They have been both a cause and an effect of social change: the founding of religious communities has fre-quently been a response to major developments of society, and the evolution of the Church and Western Culture has been significantly influenced by the life and work of religious communities. As in all social movements, the role of myth, the emergence of belief systems, the fashioning of institutions and social structures, and the role of personal transformation and commitment are central to the evolution of religious life. The dynamic interplay of all these elements creates, sustains and limits the histo~'ical unfolding of religious communities. ~This article grew from a variety of experiences over an extended period of time with multiple presentations at workshops and reflections from many religious. Especially helpful were Fr. Norbert Brockman, S.M., Sr. Gertrude Foley, S.C., Bro. Thomas Giardino, S.M., and Sr. Carol Lichtenberg, S.N.D. The scheme of dividing the history of religious life into the five eras presented in the second part of this article was first suggested in a lecture given by Fr. David Fleming, S.M., at the University of Dayton in December, 1971. 692 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 A. Organizing Concepts One way to view the unfolding of religious life within the Church is to look at how the image of religious life has evolved over time and what implications this evolution has had for the functioning of individual religious communities.3 The term dominant image of religious life is used here to name a multifaceted reality that includes how religious view their life and its functions and role within the Church and the world during a given period. The term is also meant to indicate the sense of history which permeates religious life at a given time. How do people, both the religious and the members of society at large, picture the past of this way of life? What kind of future are religious supposed to be creating? The process by which the dominant image of religious life evolves in time can be characterized by a repeated sequence of identifiable phases of change: - Growth Phase. A relatively long period of elaboration and develop-ment of the dominant image of religious life and its implications. - Decline Phase. A period of crisis in which the dominant image of religious life comes under strong question. Religious communities seem no longer suited to the aspirations of the age. Religious com-munities lose their purpose, drift into laxity, and disintegrate. Transition Phase. A comparatively short period of revitalization in which variations of the dominant image of religious life emerge and one of these is gradually selected as the new dominant image. - Growth Phase under a New Image. A period of elaboration and development under the new dominant image of religious life. The supposition that religious life has passed through a succession of such phases of growth, decline, and transition is the basis of a model that can be used to organize and interpret the data of the history of religious life.4 The remainder of this section is devoted to illustrating a way this model might be constructed. 3Some sources used to clarify the notion of dominant image were Fred Polak, The hnage of the Future, translated and abridged by Elise Boulding (San Francisco: Jassey-Bass, 1973); Changing Images of Man, Policy Research Report No. 4, Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute, May, 1974; and Kenneth E. Boulding, The Image: Knowledge in Life and Society (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1961). *Some sources used to clarify the notion of social evolution were Stephen Toulmin, Human Understanding-I (Princeton: P. U. P., 1972); Anthony F. C. Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes in Cultural Change," American Anthropologist (Vol. 74, 1972), pp. 467-478; Donald T. Campbell, "'Variation and Selective Retention in Socio-Cultural Evolution," in H. R. Barringer, G. I. Blanksten, and R. W. Mack (¢ds.), Social Change in Developing Areas (Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman, 1965); Edgar S. Dunn, Economic and Social Development." A Process of Social Learn-ing (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U. P., 1971); and Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). The Recovery of Religious Life / 693 The following questions have been used in fashioning the model. First, there are questions about variation that deal with searching and experiment-ing. Under what conditions do variations appear in the dominant image of religious life? If these variations lead in certain directions, what factors in culture, the Church, or religious life itself influenced the choice of those direc-tions? Second, there are questions about selection. What determines which variations in the dominant image of religious life are selected out to serve as essential elements of a new image of religious life? How do members of religious communities distinguish well-founded and properly justified variations from those which are precipitous, not well thought out, and hasty? ¯ Finally, there are questions about retention that deal with incorporating and establishing the new. How are selected variations incorporated into religious communities? What processes are needed? What set of factors distinguishes in-novations which endure from those which disappear quickly? B. Major Eras in the Evolution of Religious Life Using the concepts described above, the history of religious life can be divided into five main periods: the eras of the Desert Fathers, Monasticism, the Mendicant Orders, the Apostolic Orders, and the Teaching Congregations) The description of these eras given in this section constitutes the historical model that will be used in the final portion of this article. 1. Era of the Desert Fathers The first period was the Era of the Desert Fathers. Following the earliest manifestations of religious life in the mode of consecrated virgins and widows within the Christian communities of the persecuted Church, ther~ emerged the image of the religious as the ascetic holy person. The description of the her-mit's life given by Athanasius in his Life of Anthony crystallized an ideal which inspired both solitary anchorites and many communities of cenobites. The desert was seen as the domain of the demons to which they had retreated after being driven out of the cities by the triumph of the recently established Church. It was to this "desert" that generous men and women withdrew to 5Factual and historical data on the history of religious life were gathered from such standard sources as The Catholic Encyclopedia (1907), The New Catholic Encyclopedia (1967), the An-nuario Pontificio, The Official Catholic Directory, and The Catholic Almanac. Some of the other sources on this topic were Raymond Hostie, S.J., Vie et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1972); David Knowles, O.S.B., Christian Monasticism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969); Humbert M. Vicaire, O.P., The Apostolic Life (Chicago: Priory Press, 1966); Derwas J. Chitty, The Desert a City (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1964); Owen Chadwick, John Cassian, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: C. U. P., 1968); William Hinnebusch, O.P., "'How the Dominican Order Faced Its Crises," Review for Religious (Vol. 32, No. 6, November, 1973), pp. 1307-1321; William A. Hinnebusch, O.P., The History of the Dominican Order, 2 vols. (New York: Alba House, 1966, 1973); Teresa Ledochowska, O.S.U., Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula, 2 vols. (Rome: Ancora, 1969); William V. Bangert, S.J., A History of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1972); and Adrien Dansette, Religious History of Modern France, 2 vols. (New York: Herder and Herder, 1961). 69t~ / Review for Religious, lZolume 34, 1975/5 carry on the Church's important work of doing battle with the devil in the wilderness as Christ had done long ago. In this way the desert came to be seen as a place of austere beauty, where the monk was trained in the ways of perfec-tion. He returned from time to time into the midst of his fellow Christians, who saw in him the power to do good--healing the sick, casting out demons, comforting the sorrowful with gentle words, reconciling the estranged, and above all urging everyone to put nothing in the world before the love of Christ. This image captured the imagination of the Christian world as news about the Desert Fathers spread from Egypt to all points of the Roman empire. Throughout the 4th century monasteries sprang up on all the shores of the Mediterranean. By the 5th century, the golden age had begun to fade. In the East, the monks had become embroiled in doctrinal controversy. In the West, TABLE 1: ERA OF THE DESERT FATHERS (200-500) Dominant Image of Religious Life. The ideal of religious life is the holy ascetic who seeks " the perfection of Christ as a solitary or in community with a group of monks. Disciples withdraw into the "desert" and place themselves under the care of a master ascetic who teaches them the ways of perfection. They live nearby as hermits or gather in cenobia or monasteries where the master is the superior. The monk prays, mortifies himself, does battle with the devil for the sake of the Church, and spends his life seeking union with Christ. 2nd and 3rd Centuries 251 Anthony horn Consecrated virgins and widows live a form of 271 Anthony withdraws into the desert RL within Christian communities of the early 292 Pachomius born Church during the persecution. 4th Century 313 Edict of Milan 325 Pachomius founds cenobium 356 Anthony ~lies 357 Athanasius writes Life of Anthony 360 Basil founds monastery in Cappadocia 363 Martin founds monastery in Gaul 376 Melania founds monastery on Mount of Olives 393 Augustine founds monastic group in Hip-po 399 Cassian, disciple of Evagrius, migrates from Egypt to West Hermits and cenobites flourish in the Egyptian desert. Various forms of solitary and com-munity RL spread around eastern rim of the Mediterranean (Palestine, Syria, Cappadocia). First monasteries are founded in the West. 5th Century 410 Alaric sacks Rome RL continues to expand in the East. Spread of 415 Cassian founds monastery in Marseille wandering monks and various kinds of 455 Vandals sack Rome monasteries in the West while the western half 459 Simon the Stylite dies of the Roman Empire crumbles. 476 End of western Roman Empire 1st TRANSITION: SPREAD OF BENEDICT'S RULE The Recovery of Religious Life / 69t~ the foundations of Roman civilization weakened under the onslaught of the barbarian tribes, and the ties between the eastern and western halves of the Empire began to break apart. The monasteries in Gaul and other parts of the moribund West became refugee cloisters, where the monks gathered the few treasures of civilization they could lay hold of. As dusk settled on the glories of imperial Rome, the stage was set for the rise of feudal Europe and with it the next period in the evolution of religious life. 2. Era of Monasticism The next period was the Era of Monasticism. In his attempt to regularize religious life as "a life with God in separation from the world," Benedict produced a new dominant image of religious life. This image was not only a correction of the abuses which had crept in during the 5th and 6th centuries, it also, and more importantly, turned out to be a successful adaptation of religious life to the feudal society of the Dark Ages and the early medieval period. Benedict's short and practical Rule furnished workable guidelines for all monastic activity and every age and class of monks. It combined an uncom-promising spirituality with physical moderation and flexibility. It emphasized the charity and harmony of a simple life in common under the guidance of a wise and holy abbot. By the 9th century, this new image had spread to virtually all the monasteries of Europe. The ideal of the Benedictine monk became the model for Christian spirituality and played a part in the stabilization and unification of society. Various modifications, such as the Cluniac, Carthusian, and Cister-cian Reforms, maintained and adapted the dominant image to the developments in European society. Cluny and the Cistercians devised methods of uniting monasteries into networks that became harbingers of the modern order. However, by the time the 'first stirrings of urbanization began at the end of the 12th century, the dominant image began to show its inadequacies and once again laxity in religious life was not uncommon. There was also a great debate between monks and canons about which form of religious life was a more authentic embodiment of the apostolic ideal. As the civilization of the high Middle Ages began to emerge, new possibilities were felt in society and with them came the opportunity for a transition in religious life. 3. Era of the Mendicant Orders When Francis and Dominic launched their communities, they ushered in the next period, the Era of the Mendicant Orders. As mendicant friaries sprang up in towns across Europe, they met with an initial hostility which could not fathom how this new style could be an authentic form of religious life. Gradually, though, the new image of religious life became acceptable, and it proved to be a much better adaptation of ~:eligious life to the needs of urban society than was possible for the monasteries in their rural settings. During the course of the 13th century, even the monastic orders established studia close 696 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 to the new universities, where the mendicants were flourishing. As Christen-dom was passing through its zenith, the image of a religious life unen-cumbered with landed wealth played a key role in the cultivation of the in-tellectual life by the Church within society and in the preaching of the Gospel for the Church. TABLE 2: ERA OF MONASTICISM (500-1200) Dominant Image of RL. Life in a monastery is the ideal of the religious. The daily round of liturgical prayer, work, and meditation provides a practical setting to pursue the lofty goals of praising God and union with Christ. Within the Church and society, the monks set an example of how deep spirituality can be combined with loving ministry to one's neighbor and dutiful fidelity to the concrete tasks of daily living. 6th Century 529 Benedict founds a monastery to live ac- Spread of monasteries throughout western cording to his Rule Europe (Gaul, Spain, Ireland, etc.). Various 540 Celtic monasticism takes root in Irela'nd formats. Excesses and laxity are common--as 590 Columbanus founds monastery in Lu~r are wandering monks. euil 7th and 8th Centuries 642 Arab conquest of Egypt Gradual spread of Benedict's Rule to.more and 700 Venerable Bede more monasteries of Europe. Missionary 746 Boniface founds monastery in Germany journeys of Celtic monks to evangelize 755 Canons of Chrodegang founded northern Europe. 9th Century 816 Regula Canonicorum of Aix-la-Chapelle Observance of Canons Regular is made uni- 817 Charlemagne's son decrees that form by the spread of the Rule of Aix. Con- Benedict's Rule is to be observed in all solidation of Benedict's Rule. Virtually all monasteries. This project coordinated by monasteries are "Benedictine." Benedict of Aniane. 910 Cluniac Reform 1084 Carthusian Reform 1098 Cistercian Reform 10th and llth Centuries Various reforms breathe new life into Benedict's ideal and introduce organizational variations. 1111 Bernard joins the Cistercians 1120 Premonstratensians founded 12th Century Canons Regular unite into orders which are a variation of the monastic networks of Cluny and Citeaux. Military orders attempt a new form of RL which is temporarily successful (Knights of Malta, Templars, Teutonic Knights, etc.). 2nd TRANSITION: RISE OF THE MENDICANTS After a rapid flowering, the mendicant orders were affected by the same changes which spread across the Church and European society in the 14th and 15th centuries. As the Renaissance presaged the new humanism, the secularization of European society, and the breakup of the unity of Christen-dom, there emerged the conditions for yet a new kind of religious life. The Recovery of Religious Life / 697 TABLE 3: ERA OF THE MENDICANT ORDERS (1200-1500) Dominant Image of RL. The simple friar who begs for his keep and follows in the footsteps of the Lord is the ideal of RL. He prays as he goes, steeping himself in the love of Christ. Unencumbered by landed wealth, the mendicants are free to travel on foot to any place they are needed by the Church. They hold themselves ready to preach, cultivate learning, serve the poor, and minister to the needs of society in the name of the Church. 1211 Franciscans founded 1216 Dominicans founded 1242 Carmelites founded 1256 Augustinians founded 13th Century Mendicant friaries spring up in medieval towns across Europe. These foundations lend themsel~,es to work in the new universities and the apostolate of preaching. Rapid expansion of the mendicant orders. Monastic orders make some attempts to take up the style of the mendicants. 1325 75,000 men in mendicant orders 1344 Brigittines founded 1349 Black Death 1400 47,000 men in mendicant orders 1415 Hus burned at the stake 1450 Gutenberg 1492 Columbus 1500 90,000 men in mendicant orders 14th Century ~tabilization and slow decline of the mendicant orders. Abuses in RL are prevalent. 15th Century Various reforms restore the mendicant ideal and produce a gradual increase in membership. First stirrings of the Renaissance introduce an uneasiness into the Church and RL. 3rd TRANSITION: THE COUNTER-REFORMATION 4. Era of the Apostolic Orders The transition to the next period in religious life, the era of the Apostolic Orders, happened with the Counter-Reformation. Not long after Luther sparked the Protestant Revolt, the new image of religious life appeared with the foundation of various orders of Clerics Regular, the chief of which were the Jesuits. The verve and style of this new foundation set the pace for religious life, The mendicant orders had taken up this ideal in part by joining in the mis-sionary conquests,of the Church in the newly discovered lands. The new image also spurred religious to come to terms with the secularizing trends of the scientific revolution, modern philosophy, and the rise of nationalism in Europe. Jesuits, for example, could be found in the royal courts of almost all of Europe's Catholic kingdoms, in the laboratories of the new scientists, and teaching the youthful Descartes at La Fl~che. As the proponents of the Enlightenment testily challenged the very ex-istence of the Church, a slow decline descended upon religious life. Large and nearly empty monasteries dotted the European countryside. Jansenist and Enlightened thought undermined the.rationale for religious life from opposite directions. The Bourbon kings succeededin persuading Rome to suppress the 69~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 Jesuits in 1773. On the eve of the French Revolution, worldwide membership in all the men's religious orders stood at about 300,000; by the time the Revolution and the secularization which followed had run their course, fewer than 70,000 remained. Many orders went out of existence. As the 19th century began, there was need of a thorough-going revival of religious life, which could realistically cope with the new consciousness of Europe. TABLE 4: ERA OF THE APOSTOLIC ORDERS (1500-1800) Dominant Image of RL. Religious are an elite of dedicated and militant servants of the Church with a high level of individual holiness, a readiness to defend the Church on any front, and the zeal to win new expansion for the Church to the very ends of the earth. 1517 Luther sparks the Reformation 1535 Ursulines founded 1540 Jesuits founded 1541 Francis Xavier sails for Far East 1545 Trent starts 1562 Discalced Carmelite Reform 16th Century RE virtually wiped out in Protestant Europe. Founding and expansion of a new kind of RL in the format of the Clerics Regular. These groups work at shoring up the Church's political power in Catholic Europe, reforming the Church, and spreading the Gospel in the foreign missions. 17th Century 1610 Visitation Nuns founded 1625 Vincentians founded 1633 Daughters of Charity founded 1650 St. Joseph Sisters founded 1662 Ranc6 launches Trappist Reform 1663 Paris Foreign Mission Society founded 1681 Christian Brothers founded 1700 213,000 men in mendicant orders Flowering of spirituality, especially in French School, leads to new foundations such as the various societies of priests and clerical con-gregations. Bulk of men religious still belong to mendicant orders. 1725 Passionists founded 1735 Redemptorists founded 1770 300,000 men in RL in world 1773 Jesuits suppressed by Rome 1789 French Revolution starts 18th Century A few clerical congregations emerge, but RL as a whole seems to be in decline due to the in-roads of Enlightenment thought, Jansenism, wealth, and laxity. Weakened RL is given the coup de gr?tce by the French Revolution, which sets off a wave of political suppression and defection in France and the rest of Catholic Europe. 4th TRANSITION: FRENCH REVOLUTION 5. Era of the Teaching Congregations The revival of religious life which occurred in the next period, the Era of the Teaching Congregations, set off in a new direction. There were about 600 foundations of new communities in the 19th century. They were, for the most part, dominated by the movement of educating the masses. For the first time The Recovery of Religious Life / 699 in European history, the idea of educating everyone had the possibility of be-ing concretely realized. The new congregations joined in this movement in hopes of planting the seeds of a hardy faith in the souls of the children they taught by the thousands. This zeal for the education of children was combined with a cleansed Jansenistic spirituality to form the new image of religious life. While the activity of religious spilled over into other apostolic works such as hospitals, teaching set the pace. Even the few pre-Revolution orders which were managing a slow recovery took on many of the trappings of the typical 19th century teaching congregation. For the first time in the history of religious life, recruitment of adult vocations was almost completely displaced by the acceptance of candidates just emerging from childhood. Through the end of the 19th century and on into the 20th the religious who gave themselves to this demanding work of teaching edified the Church and produced a brand of holiness which was most appropriate for a Catholicism which sought to strengthen a papacy denuded o.f worldly power and to care for the masses of the industrialized wor.ld in need of christianization. By the mid-1960's membership in religious communities reached the highest point in the history of the Church. In the last decade, this trend was reversed for the first time in more than a century. Crises have set in which some ascribe to a loss of identity TABLE 5: ERA OF THE TEACHING CONGREGATIONS (1800-present) Dominant Image of RL. Religious dedicate their lives to the salvation of their own souls and the salvation of others. The style of life of religious men and women blends in intense pursuit of personal holiness with a highly active apostolic service. Identity with the person of Christ unites this two-fold objective into a single purpose. 19th Century 1814 French Restoration; Jesuits restored by Rome 1825 Fewer than 70,000 men in RL in world 1831 Mercy Sisters founded 1850 83,000 men in RL in world 1859 Salesians founded 1870 Papal infallibility declared Revival of RL after widespread state sup-pressions. Numerous foundations of con-gregations dedicated to a return to authentic RL blended with service, principally in schools. Old orders, such as Jesuits and Dominicans, rejuvenated in the format of the teaching con-gregations. Church gradually centralizes around the papacy and isolates itself from secular trends of the modern world 20th Century 1950 275,000 men in RL in world 1962 Vatican II starts; 1,012,000 women in RL in world 1965 335,000 men in RL in world 1966 181,500 women in RL in U.S. 1972 879,000 women in RL in world 1973 143,000 women in RL in U.S. 1974 227,500 men in RL in world Expansion and solidification. In the sixties, crises set in from within RL due to loss of iden-tity and inroads of secularizing process. Numerous defections and decreasing numbers of new members. 5th TRANSITION: (?) 700 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 and the inroads of secularism. It seems that another transition in the long history of religious life has begun. Further considerations will be undertaken in the remainder of this article to better analyze the present situation. 11I. The Life Cycle of a Religious Community: A Sociological Model The previous section of this paper focused on a historical model for the evolution of religious life as such within the Church; in this section attention is turned toward the life of the individual religious community or institute. To this end, a sociological model for the life cycle of individual religious com-munities which organizes the important dimensions of each period in the life of the communities is developed.6 This model allows further probing of the questions concerning the plausibility of a revitalization of religious life, since revitalization of present religious communities is one way that religious life as a whole will be renewed. A. Organizing Concepts To date, only thirteen men's religious orders in the entire his.tory of the Church have ever surpassed a membership figure of 10,000 at some point of their existence. The membership pattern of three of these orders--the Dominicans, the Minims, and the Jesuits--is graphed in Figure 1 below. Although these three examples are taken from among the largest orders of the Church, they are representative of the membership pattern in most religious communities, large or small. Typically one finds one or more cycles of growth and decline in the number of members. These membership patterns suggest a dynamic of inner vitality that goes on in a religious community. Using such analogies as the human life cycle and other cycles of growth and decline, a sociological model has been devised which divides the life cycle of an active religious community into five periods: foundation, expansion, stabilization, breakdown and transition. The model is shown schematically in Figure 2. The shape of this curve is intended to repre-sent the over-all vitality of the community as it passes from one period to the next. In the following section salient events and characteristics which typify each of these periods are described. An attempt is also made to isolate the crises which occur during each period. ~Some sources used to clarify the notion of a life cycle were Hostie, Vie et mort; Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes"; Gordon L. Lippitt and Warren H. Schmidt, "Crisis in a Developing Organization," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 45, No. 6, November-December, 1967), pp. 102- 112; and Lawrence E. Greiner, "Evolution and Revolution as Organizations Grow," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 50, No. 4, July-August, 1972), pp. 37-46; Thomas F. O'Dea, The Sociology of Religion (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1966); Luther P. Gerlach and Virginia H. Hine, People. Power and Change: Movements of Social Transformation (Indianapolis: Bobbs- Merrill, 1970). The Recovery of Religious Life / 701 _z 20 LLI ~ lO 30 1200 1300 ! \/ , st 1400 1500 1600 1700 I t I t I I I II ! I ! 1800 1900 2000 Figure 1: Membership of Dominicans, Minims, and Jesuits IFOUNDATIONIEXPANSION ISTABILIZATION BREAKDOWN TRANSITION Figure 2: Life Cycle of a Religious Community B. The Periods of the Life Cycle 1. The Foundation Period The first period in the life of a religious community centers around a found-ing person and his or her vision. The founder or foundress undergoes a radically transformi,ng experience, which can usually be pinpointed to an event or series of events, and .which is perceived as an abrupt shift in the founding 702 / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/5 person's identity and a timeless moment in which a vision or dream is received. Contained in the transforming experience is a new appreciation of the message of Jesus which leads to innovative insight on how the condition of the Church or society could be dramatically improved or how a totally new kind of future could be launched. A new impetus to live the religious life in all the totality of its demands is felt, and a new theory emerges that is at once a critique of the present, an appropriation of the past, a compelling image of the future, and a basis for novel strategies. The founding person's transforming experience is followed by the initial emergence of the community. A fortuitous encounter takes place between the founder or foundress and some contemporary men or women in which the founding experience, the innovative insight, the emerging theory, and the call to holiness are shared. The group unites under the guidance of the founding person to search for and invent new arrangements for living the Gospel together and working toward the realization of the Kingdom of God. The foundation period may last ten to twenty years or longer and fre-quently coincides with the last part of the founding person's lifetime. Integra-tion and cohesion center on the founding person and still more deeply on the person of Christ. The structural identity of the community appears in seminal form, and authority in the community springs from the wisdom of the found-ing person. Founding events of religious communities have a uniqueness about them which has caused them to be especially treasured as significant moments in the Church's past. Examples of founding persons and their visions readily come to mind: Angela Merici's dream of a new kind of religious life for women that centered on an active apostolate; the hopes of Robert of Molesme to restore fervor through the primitive observance of Benedict's Rule in the wilderness of C~teaux; Don Bosco's contagious vision of loving Christ and joyfully serving the poor. The more striking cases of founding persons receiving their in-spirations have become part of the common heritage of all religious: Anthony hearing in a Sunday Gospel the words which were the key to his life's aim; Ignatius retiring to Manresa to receive his visions. For the most part the foundation period is a time of grace and charism for a new religious community. But there are also crises that must be faced. The crisis of direction forces the community to decide which undertakings are im-portant and which must be sacrificed. The crisis of leadership confronts the community with the problem of finding out how it will live beyond the time of its founding person. The crisis of legitimization engulfs the nascent community in the question of whether or not the Church will approve it as an authentic form of religious life. The Waldensians, for example, showed some signs of becoming a new religious order on the pattern of the mendicants, but they never overcame the crisis of iegitimization. Instead of becoming a religious community, they ended up as renegades who had to hide out in the woods of medieval Europe. The Recovery of Religious Life / 70a 2. The Expansion Period When the community has emerged from the foundation period, it un-dergoes a fairly long period of expansion, during which the founding charism is institutionalized in a variety of ways. A community cult and belief system solidifies, a community polity is fashioned, and community norms and customs take hold. As members of the community's second generation mature and grow older, they recount stories of the foundation, which they have heard from the pioneers or have themselves experienced in their youth. These stories enshrine decisive events which set the community's direction or establish its characteristic traits. Gradually, rituals and symbols which express and com-memorate the most treasured facets of the foundation are fused with the.iore of the older members into a sort of sacred memory and cult that begins to be passed on from generation to generation as the community's "founding myth." Attempts are made at thinking through the founding myth and expressing it in terms of contemporary thought patterns. Eventually these efforts result in theories, interpretations, and social models which coalesce into a belief system and give a rational structure to the more intuitive thrust of the founding myth. Simultaneously, procedures are devised for community decision making and communication, and bit by bit the community's polity.takes shape. Norms are set down and customs emerge which cover all aspects of the community's life, such as membership criteria, leadership standards, and apostolic priorities. The members of the young community experience an excitement about the growth and success which characterizes the expansion period. Large numbers join the community, and new works are rapidly taken on which enhance the possibility of a still broader recruitment. Major interpreters of the founding vi-sion are recognized. Patterns of spiritual practice are determined, and the community's spirituality is made concrete in manuals of direction or other written documents. With expansion come certain organizational crises. How is authority to be delegated? What means will be used to integrate and tie together the rapidly expanding network of establishments and the burgeoning membership. When Bernard joined the Cistercians thirteen years after their foundation, he led the community through this kind of organizational crisis. In the process, a new en-tity, the general chapter, was invented to cope with the situation, and this in-novation is still a standard feature.of most religious orders today. Another crisis of this period centers on maintaining the pristine vigor of the founding vision. As rival interpretations arise, which will be discarded? A classic exam-ple of this kind of crisis occurred in the great debates about poverty among the early Franciscans just after Francis died. 3. The Stabilization Period After a fairly long expansion, which may last two to three generations or "/04 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 longer, there ensues a period of stabilization. Numerical increase in membership may continue, but geographical expansion usually slows down. The stabilization period may last a century or more, but it is sometimes as brief as fifty years or so. A feeling of success pervades the community during the stabilization period. Members experience a high degree of personal satisfaction from simply being in the community. The prevailing image of religious life is clear and accepted. It provides a basis for describing unambiguous social roles for religious. The community is accomplishing its purpose and this purpose is self-evident. The need to improve is not seen as a need to change things but simply to do better what is already being done. Gradually, as stabilization sets in, more and more of the community assumes that religious life has always been the way it is now and that it will always remain so in the future. There is little need to elaborate the understanding of the founding vision or penetrate into it more deeply. It is simply accepted and repeated to new members who join. No one is left in the community who knew the founding person or the first dis-ciples personally. Memory of the founding events takes on the cast of past his(ory that is separate from the present moment. Formation of new members emphasizes their conformity to standard patterns of external behavior that are seen as the best means of cultivating interior commitment. The over-all feeling of success which is so typical of the stabilization period is not illusory. There is in fact a job that is being done and done well by the many generous religious who devote themselves to its accomplishment. The kinds of crises that Crop up during the stabilization period are linked to the other characteristics of the period. The crisis of activism occurs. Members become so absorbed in work that they lose sight of its spiritual and apostolic underpinning. They allow the satisfactions of accomplishment to dis-place a centeredness in Christ. Loss of intensity is another crisis of the stabilization period. Is it possible to maintain the intensity of vision and com-mitment among members, now that the community has become so highly in-stitutionalized? They can often be simply carried along by the sheer inertia of the community's activity and held in place by the pressure of social expecta-tion placed on their role as religious from people in the Church. Another danger stems from the crisis of adaptation. In the midst of success the com-munity is seldom open to adaptation, and any changes that have to be made are fraught with difficulty. Quite often, even the most legitimate changes are rejected, and their proponents are righteously and intolerantly silenced. The failure of later Jesuit missionaries to implement the ideas of Matteo Ricci con-cerning Confucian practices among Chinese Catholics is perhaps a good ex-ample of the sort of resistance to adaptation that can be found during the stabilization period. 4. The Breakdown Period Eventually the seeming immutabilities of the stabilization period start to give, and the religious community enters the breakdown period. The The Recovery of Religious Life / 705 breakdown may be gradual and last a half a century or more, or it may be rapid and run its course in a few decades. In either case, what happens is a dis-mantling of the institutional structures and belief systems that arose in the ex-pansion period and served the community so well during the stabilization period. This collective decline gives rise, in turn, to stress and doubt in the in-dividual members. Initially .a number of persons become dissatisfied with the current state of the community. Perhaps they are simply struck by what they judge to be the silliness of some of the community's customs or procedures. Or they may come to see that the community's life and work are not equipped to handle im-portant new challenges. Unanswered questions about the function and purpose of the community begin to accumulate and start to raise doubts. Levels of in-dividual stress increase slowly at the beginning, but then rise rapidly as doubt spreads to more and more levels of the community's social structure. To handle the growing problems, standard remedies are tied. All that is needed, it seems, is to get back to doing well what has always been done and to renew commitment to the community's mission. However, the usual problem-solving techniques become increasingly ineffective. A sense of crisis grows as community authority and decision-making structures become confused. The community's belief system begins to appear archaic and bound in by the trap-pings and articulations of a bygone age. The founding experience and myth, which had been internalized by the community's early generations, is no longer felt by the members. As the community loses its sense of identity and purpose, service to the Church becomes haphazard and lacks direction. Moral norms in the com-munity are relaxed and some members perhaps distract themselves with sex and a misuse of wealth. There is a net loss of membership through increased withdrawals and decreased recruitment of new members. The crises that arise during the breakdown period center on the various phenomena of decline in the community. The crisis of polarization can become acute when those who have faith in the community as it was align themselves against those who in varying degrees reject the community as it is. The crisis of collapsing institutions sets in as the community is forced to stop doing "business as usual" and abandon long-established works. The resulting demoralization leads to the crisis of the community's impending death. What is to be done as the chilling awareness grows in the community that it is inex-orably listing into disintegration on all sides? 5. The Transition Period The breakdown is followed by a period of transition. Three outcomes are possible for religious communities during this period: extinction, minimal sur-vival, or revitalization. Extinction, the first of these outcomes, occurs when all the members of a community either withdraw or die and it simply passes out of existence. This happened, for example, to 76% of all men's religious orders founded before 706 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 1500 and to 64% of those founded before 1800. From a historical perspective, then, a reasonable expectation would seem to be that most religious com-munities in the Church today will eventually become extinct. A religious community which does not die out may go into a long period of low-level or minimal survival. If the membership pattern of presently existing religious orders founded before the French Revolution is examined, one finds that most of them enter into a period lasting across several centuries in which the number of members is very low. In fact, only 5% of all men's orders founded before 1500 and only 11% of the orders founded before 1800 have a current membership which is larger than 2,000. The Minims (Figure 1) are typical of the orders which once were quite large and now have a small membership. This type of outcome should not be interpreted as a dis-appearance of vitality in every case. The Carthusians, for example, follow this membership pattern. Yet they seem to be living UP to their reputation of never having relaxed their observance--never reformed and never needing reform. To this day the order's spiritual impact appears greater than its numerical strength. There is also a small percentage of religious communities which survive the breakdown period a~d enter into a period of revitalization. At least three characteristics can be singled out in all communities which have been revitalized in this way: a transforming response to the signs of the times; a reappropriation of the founding charism; and a profound renewal of the life of prayer, faith, and centeredness in Christ. The time in history fn which revitalization occurs seems to make a difference. If the revitalization occurs during one of the shifts in the dominant image of religious life singled out in the historical model above, the com-munity takes on many of the characteristics of the emerging image, and the transforming response to the signs of the times seems central to the revitaliza-tion. If the revitalization occurs midway during one of the major eras in the history of religious life identified earlier in this article, the revitalization takes on the characteristics of a reform with the reappropriation of the founding charism playing a central role. In either case the community experiences the revitalization as a second foundation. Personal transformation or conversion is central to revitalization. With personal transformation comes innovative insight and a new centering in the person of Christ. The innovative insight allows the transformed individuals within the community to develop critical awareness of the assumptions un-derlying the traditional meaning of the community and functioning of that community within the Church and the world. This innovative insight brings with it a focusing of energies through a new positive vision of what the com-munity should be in the future. The vision allows the emergence of a new theory which gives meaning to the experiences of individuals and the shared events lived within the community and spurs the community to building and creating its future. Such a new theory guides the community in the search for The Recovery of Religious Life / 707 and the invention of new models ~of living together as a community bound by. the evangelical conditions of discipleship in the service of the Church. A more complete sketch of the human dynamics of revitalization will be given in the last section of this article. The essential components of this dynamic, namely, insight and vision, and new theory and new models, are mentioned at this point to complete the picture of the life cycle of a religious community. Some limitations of this sociological model and the historical model of the previous section are given in the next section together with some generalizations that can be drawn from the models. IV. Some Limitations and Generalizations A. Limitations of the Models Before proceeding, some concluding and cautionary remarks must be made. Evidently the rapid overview of the history of religious life given in the first portion of this article should not be taken as anything more than a demonstration of how the evolution of religious life can be interpreted so as to fit the model of the five main eras that are being postulated in the proposed historical model. The account is far too compressed and over-simplified to provide an adequate and proi~erly nuanced telling of the story of religious life. For example, little attention was given to the Canons Regular, who constituted a significant portion of men religious from the Middle Ages to the French Revolution. There was no discussion of the medieval military orders nor of Orthodox monasticism. A still more gaping lacuna is the almost complete absence of any analysis of the way women's religious life differed from or followed the same pattern as that of the men. It may be that the sources used in this study were not sensitive to the distinctive role women actually played in the evolution of religious life. On the other hand, it may be that up to the present time the trends of women's religious life have been very parallel to those in the men's orders. The models proposed for the evolution of religious life and for the life-cycle of a religious community are also both simplifications. Some might validly question, for example, whether there were just five major eras in the history of religious life and whether the transitions between the eras occurred as clearly as the historical model suggests. The description of the dominant image of religious life for each era is a simplification of what was in every case a rather complex phenomenon. Hopefully, the liberties that have been taken are justified by the intention of trying to synopsize the history of religious life in such a way as to make some tentative insights more easily accessible to someone who is not a professional historian. Similarly, the breaks between the successive periods in the life cycle of a religious community are nowhere near as clear-cut as the proposed sociological model suggests. In .history, breakdowns sometimes occur within one order in different geographical locales at different times. Revitalizations often occur in some places for an order, while it decays elsewhere. At times 708 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 there are orders in which the role of the founding person is rather minor and does not have the decisiveness described in the model. Some communities have been founded in rather modest historical circumstances that were not accom-panied by the profound inspiration described in the model. These and similar qualifications must be kept in mind when the sociological model is used to in-terpret the life cycle of any particular community. B. Generalizations The models presented in the previous sections suggest some generalized conclusions. These conclusions can be helpful in exploring the present crisis of religious life. The historical evidence suggests that there have been significant shifts in the dominant image of religious life across the centuries. These shifts seem to occur when there are major societal changes astir and when the Church is un-dergoing major changes. The first transition happened as the Roman Empire fell in the West and feudal Europe was beginning; at the same time the rift between western and eastern Christianity was starting. The second transition occurred as feudal Europe was giving way to medieval urbanization and as the Church was gathering all of Europe into the unity of Christendom. The third transition took place at the start of the modern period of Western Civilization as the Church underwent the shock of the Reformation. The fourth transition resulted from a direct attack of society on the Church as a whole and on religious life in particular. Admittedly each of these changes in the culture and the Church differed from one another in many respects. However, the pattern seems clear enough at least to permit one to ask whether perhaps another shift in the dominant image of religious life would happen if major changes in society and the Church should come to pass. Although religious communities have been founded in almost every cen-tury of Christian history, it seems that each major shift in the dominant image of religious life is heralded by some significantly new foundations which em-body a new image in an especially striking way. This could be said of the earliest Benedictine monasteries for the first transition, of the Franciscans and Dominicans for the second transition, of the Jesuits for the third transition, and of the plethora of 19th century foundations for the fourth transition. It also seems to be the case that many communities go out of existence at each transition. Those that survive either continue in a diminished form or somehow blend the new dominant image with the charism of their own foun-dation to get another lease on life. The mendicant orders, for example, grew numerically stronger during the Era of Apostolic Orders as they adapted their own special gifts to the new style of religious life. The culture of the high Mid-dle Ages was rapidly and irretrievably passing away, but the mendicants adapted and flourished. One might ask, then, if the Church would witness the death of many religious communities and the foundation of new and different ones if a shift in the dominant image of religious life were to occur. The remainder of this article will explore the plausibility of maintaining that The Recovery of Religious Life / 709 another major transition has in fact begun in the history of religious life. Should this hypothesis be true, it would be appropriate to pose questions about h6w religious life is dying and how a recovery and revitalization might happen. Another observation that suggests itself from this brief survey concerns the continuity that underlies the shifts of the dominant image of religious life. As the image evolves it continues to hold up the impelling ideal of a radical following of the conditions set forth by Christ for an evangelical discipleship embedded in a life of prayer and deep faith. While the contemporary religious would probably not feel called to take on the externals of the life of the Desert Fathers, he or she will surely understand and be drawn to the stark beauty of the life of radical discipleship that moved Anthony to withdraw into the desert. Similar remarks could probably be made about the ultimate aims of the first Franciscans and the first rugged band of Jesuits. Through all the twists and turns in the make up and style of religious life, there is a deep core of seeking union with Christ in a special and total way that endures century after century. A great deal of historical precedent would have to be explained away by anyone who would wish to maintain that religious life is about to disappear as a separate and distinguishable way of life in the Church. The historical pattern seems to be one of repeated recovery. The present moment is indeed a time of trouble for religious communities, but religious life as a whole will doubtlessly survive. Turning to the sociological model, some further generalizations can be made. In the evolution of a religious community the non-rational elements of transforming experience, vision, and myth play a central role. This is es-pecially true during the periods of foundation and revitalization. Although necessary for each period in the life-cycle of a community, the techniques of rationality (long-range planning, leadership training, etc.) will never be suf-ficient to found a religious community or to revitalize one. The renewed vitality that comes to some religious communities during the time of transition finds its source in plumbing the depths of.the mythic and non-rational and in-tegrating them with the more rational dimensions of human life. A central insight of the myth of original sin is that humankind is not capable of sustained development; breakdown and disintegration are ever-recurring manifestations of the human condition. Since religious men and women exist within the human condition, it should not be surprising that, from time to time, all religious communities experience an extensive period of significant breakdown and disintegration. These bleak realities should be em-braced with humble acceptance of th~ human condition and a faith-filled hope that the Lord will in time resurrect life-giving initiatives from the death-dealing processes of breakdown. V. Where Does Religious Life Stand Today? In the previous sections of this article, the history of the religious-life movement in the Church and of particular religious communities was ex-amined to determine the major factors within culture, the Church, and 710 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 religious communities themselves that significantly influence the evolution of this movement. Generalizations from the proposed models indicate that major. transitions are likely to occur in religious life when secular culture is in the midst of a major crisis, and when religious life has experienced a period of major breakdown. The factors can serve as a useful matrix for answering the question, "Where does religious life stand today?" As was mentioned in the in-troduction, the answer proposed in this article is that religious life is undergo-ing a pervasive transition that will last for the next twenty to twenty-five years and which will significantly change the style of life and service of religious communities. The plausibility of this assertion is developed in this section. A. Signs of Transition in Secular Culture Many writers have noted that contemporary culture is in the midst of a societal transition. Some compare the present time to the Renaissance. Others claim that the present multifaceted change is equal to if not greater in magnitude than the agricultural and industrial revolutions. Many strands of societal transition have been pointed out. Spiritual, intellectual, philosophical, psychological, political, economic, and many other crises in society have been described by writers from a wide range of disciplines. For the purposes of this article, a cluster of these difficulties, which might be broadly termed the socio-economic crisis, will be summarized below as a sample of the sort of comment on contemporary society being made today. Catastrophic events and critical trends are continually reported by the news media. These reports range from widespread famine in the Sahel and South Asia to the continued downward spiral of the national economy. Careful analysts and writers have noted that these events and trends are a manifestation of the parallel growth of a set of interrelated critical issues which they have designated as the "world problematique.''7 A list of the critical issues that make up the "world problematique" would include: Energy Problems: Runaway growth in domestic and worldwide use of energy; shortages and scarcity of energy; insufficient capital resources to develop new energy sources. Food Problems: Food supply unable to meet the demand for food; worsening of weather conditions through pollution; increasing food prices due to food scarcity and increasing cost and consumption of energy; deterioration of arable land through increased urbaniza-tion and ecological undermining; actual widespread famine; potential long term problems of hunger and famine. Pollution Problems: Rise of pollution-induced illness; exponential increhse in the pollu-tion of the air and seas; denuding of natural environment through strip mining. 7.Some sources used to examine the "world problematique" were Kenneth E. F. Watt, The Titanic Effect: Planning for the Unthinkable (Stanford, Conn.: Sinauer Associates, Inc.); Donella H. Meadows, et al., The Limits to Growth (Washington: Potomac Associates, 1972); Mihajlo Mesarovic and Eduard Pestel, Mankind at the Turning Point (New York: Reader's Digest Press, 1974); Lester R. Brown, In the Human Interest (New York: W. W. Norton, 1974); and Lester R. Brown with Eric P. Eckholm, By Bread Alone (New York: Praeger, 1974). The Recovery of Religious Life / 711 Economic Problems: Growing world inflation; market saturation (e.g. airplanes, elec-tronic equipment, automobiles); instability and manipulation of monetary system, lack of alternatives to growth economics; increasing gap between the "have's" and the "have not's." Work Problems: Increasing unemployment and underemployment; saturation of the labor market; decreased productivity; increasing alienation and dissatisfaction with work; depersonalization of work environments. Problems of Urban Areas: Deterioration of urban areas; increasing crime rates; in-creasing cost of essential urban services. Problems of International Order." Hazards of international competition and war; com-petitive economic policies. What makes the "world problematique" different from problems en-countered in previous eras is its complexity and the pervasive interrelationship of its elements. Hence, the "world problematique" is not amenable to normal methods of problem solving. Attempts to address such critical issues in a singular or joint fashion introduce fundamental dilemmas that do not appear resolvable within conventional modes of thought. Among such dilemmas which seem to be plaguing the contemporary politico-economic situation, four might be singled out: the dilemmas of growth, guidance, global justice, and social roles.8 These dilemmas are delineated more fully in Table 6. One may ask if these problems and dilemmas have not been present during most of the Industrial Era. Are not the problems of the 20's and 30's very much the same as those of the 70's and 80's? What makes the above mentioned problems and dilemmas different is that they have not been ameliorated through the use of conventional wisdom and standard problem-solving ap-proaches. In fact, one may argue that application of these approaches has led to many unanticipated and undesirable consequences. Resolution of the problems and dilemmas is dependent upon a thorough-going shift in social perceptions, involving restructuring of beliefs, images, and human aspirations at a fundamental level. B. Crisis in the Church and the Breakdown in Religious Life The Catholic Church in America has been profoundly influenced by con-temporary change. For at least fifteen years the Church has been experiencing a transition of its life. The Second Vatican Council (1962-1964) was a result of the early stages of this transition and a triggering event for its later stages. The Church began to open itself to a world which was undergoing a dramatic secularization. This opening up or aggiornamento had significant impact on all dimensions of Church life. Parish life and parochial education are no longer the only shapers of the values and beliefs of American Catholics. The once-clear norms and social roles ~vithin the Church no longer seem to serve their original purpose. For example, the Vatican's official position on birth 8The schematization presented in Table 6 is based on the work of Bill Harmon, Director of the Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute. 712 / Review for Religious, I~'olume 34, 1975/5 TABLE 6: SOME DILEMMAS OF CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY Growth The fundamental "new scarcity" of fossil fuels, minerals, fresh water, arable land, habitable surface area, waste-absorbing capacity of the natural environment, fresh air, and food come from approaching the finite limits of the earth. These limits demand a radical slow down or leveling off in material.growth and energy-use curves of the past.' Yet, the present economic and political system is built around a growth hypothesis. The economic and political consequences of limiting growth appear unbearable. Guidance Dilemma Ecological considerations along with awesome power of modern technology to change any and all aspects of the human environment establish a mandate for greater guidance of technological and social innovation. Yet, the political price of such guidance is very high. Such guidance is perceived as con-trary to man's fundamental right to freedom and as an inhibition to economic growth. Global Justice Dilemma Further advances by the industrialized nations make the rich nations richer and the poor nations relatively poorer. The impressive ac-complishments of the industrial economy are largely built on a base of cleverness plus cheap energy, the latter from the world's limited stockpile of fossil fuels. Yet, the costs of not redressing these inequities may be serious political and economic world instabilities as well as widespread famine and inhuman suffering in the poorer nations. Social Roles Dilemma Present economic system is failing to provide Yet, the absence of satisfying and personally an adequate number of satisfying social roles meaningful roles for women, youth, the especially for women and minorities. The aged, and minorities along with worker employment market is saturated; there is a dissatisfaction in general results in in-need to keep youth and the aged out of the creased I~ersonal alienation and erodes labor market, the morale of the nation. control is considered unacceptableto an increasingly large number of Catholics. Difficulties are arising in the functioning of such Church structures as the priesthood and the traditional role of the laity and of such Church institutions as parishes, schoo|s, and hospitals. Their once-unquestioned role within the Church no longer seems to satisfy the needs of an increasingly large number of church members. This crisis and transition within the Church has had a dramatic effect on religious communities of women and men. Religious communities have begun to experience all of the signs of entering into the breakdown and disintegration period described earlier in this article. There has been a sharp decline in membership due to increased withdrawals and a decrease in new recruits. Re- The Recovery of Religious Life / 713 cent literature9 gives a statistical picture of this breakdown in the United States. - A recent National Opinion Research Center study indicated there is a larger relative number of resignees among those already established in church careers than in any other equivalent period of time since the French Revolution. - For the years between 1965 and 1972 66% of the yearly decrease in communities of religious women was due to dispensation or termination of vows. In communities of religious women the average annual net increase over these years was approximately 768 members, the average annual net decrease was 3841, with only one-third of that loss caused by deaths. - The total number of Sisters in 1974 had declined 17% from 1960 and 23% since their peak membership year in 1966. - The total number of religious Brothers in 1974 had decreased 12% since 1960 and 26.5% since their peak membership year in 1966. The purposes of religious communities which were once clear and widely understood have become vague and meaningless to some in the midst of the modern church crisis. The structures of authority and process of communica-tion and decision making within religious communities seem no longer to fit the needs of the individuals within the community or suit the evolving work of the communities. The processes of formation to religious community have sometimes become disorganized and seem to lack purpose. These and other signs indicate that the last fifteen to twenty years have been a time when most religious com-munities have begun to experience breakdown. This cluster of the signs of breakdown in virtually all communities seems to indicate that we are ap-proaching the end of another major era in the history of religious life. C. Restatement of the Bias This review of the transitions in secular culture as well as the current crisis of the Church allows us to use the historical and sociological models of the evolution of religious life and religious communities outlined in the previous sections to answer the question "Where does religious life stand today?" In the introduction of this article, an answer was given in what was called the fun-damental bias of the article, namely, that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty or twenty-five years to run its full course. The arguments leading up to this bias can be set forth as follows: 1. The dominant image of religious life has undergone several major tran-sitions as religious life has evolved as a movement within the Church. 2. The occurrence of these major transitions is associated with a number 9Carroll W. Trageson and Pat Holden, "Existence and Analysis of the 'Vocation Crisis' in Religious Careers," (pp. 1-3) in Carroll W. Trageson, John P. Koval, and Willis E. Bartlett (eds.), Report on Study of Church Vo

Issue 15.2 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; MARCH ]5', 1956 VOLUME XV NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME XV FEBRUARY, 1956 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS MOTHER CORNELIA CONNELLY--Mother Mary Eleanor, S.H.C.J.57 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE-~--Bernard Leeming, S.J .6.9. SUMMER SESSIONS . 90 SISTERS' RETREATS--II--Thomas Dubay, S.M .9.1. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 9. Entrance Fee for Postulants and Novices . 97 10. Residen~ Chaplain as Confessor . 98 11. Legal Protection Against Remuneration for Services . . . 99 12, Correspondence with the Vicar Also Exempt .100 13. Washing of Purificators, Palls, and Corporals ., . .: . . . :. 101 14. New Rubrics for Little Office of the B.V.M .1.0.1 15. Sending Letters to Superior General .102 16. The Meaning of a Plus Book . 102 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 103 CATHOLIC ALMANAC, 1956 . 112 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 112 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1956. Vol. XV, 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 College St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter, 2anuary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ell~d, S.3., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Henry Willmerlng, S.3. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Copyright,'1956, by Reoieto for Religious. Permission is hereby granted for quo-tations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the ahthor 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. The Myst:ici m of Obedience Bernard keeming, S.J. ALL great things are simple. God is great and God is simple. If we are united with God's will, we are uiaited with God,. because God's will is" God. And if we are united with God, we are united with F~ither, Son, and Holy Ghost; for the Trinity is simple also. Obedience is a great thing and obedience is simple. "If you love me, ke~p my commandments" (John 14: 15). If you wish to be perfect, just~ do as y~u are told. "He that keepeth my commandments, is he th~at loveth me, and he that loveth me, ~hall be loved of my Father, and I will love him and will manifest myself to him" (John 14:2.1). In obedience we truly receive a revelation of Christ. St. Teresa gives several rexamples Qf what she thought sim-plicity or ":innocenc'e" in obediende. At Avila, she, says, "One thing I remember, which is this: once'in the refectory we had cucumbers given us'for our portions, and to me a very small one, "rotten within. Pretending not to l£e aware of. thi), I called a sister, one of the most able and sensible in the h'ouse, and, to try her'obedi-, ?nce, told her to go and plant it in a .little garden we had. She asked me Whether it was to be planted endways or sideways. I told her sideways, She went and planted it, without thinking that it could not possibly fail to die. The. fact that she was acting under obedi-ence made her natural reason blind, so that she believed that what she did was perfectly right" i( Foundations, ed. Lewis, p. 6). And, probably at Toledo or Mailagon, she narrates: "To a prioress came a nun, and showed her a very large worm, saying, 'Look how beautiful it is!' The prioress in jest replied 'Then go and eat it,' She went and fried it. The Cook asked her why she fried a worm, and she answered, 'To eat ;it,' and would have done so. Thus thro,ugh a great carelessness of that prioress that nun might have done herself much barni" (ibid., p. 161)." For my own part, fear I wonder if the two nuns in question were quite so simple as St, _Teresa imagined they were! However, not to delay on planting cucumbers or frying worms, there are four considerations we make about obedience which show that there is a great mystery in it, and a great reality' Of union with God. , 69 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious 1. Our Saviour's obedience to His Father reveals to us some-thing of the eternal relations of the Blessed Trinity. 2. Through obedience we attain union with Christ and with His Father in the Holy Ghost. 3. Our Saviour's obedience sums up the mystery of the Re-demption of mankind. 4. Through obedience likewise we "cooperate with Christ, in a true sense make one with Christ, in His redeeming and saving mlSslon. CHRIST'S OBEDIENCE AND THE BLESSED TRINITY Nothing is dearer in the Gospels than that Christ is one with the Father in understanding, willir~g, accomplishing, and in very being. Christ's teaching was at once His own, and yet in a sense, not His own but the Father's: "My doctrine is not mine, but His who sent me" (John 7:16), that is, the teaching is not Christ's alone, but'equally the Father's: it is not' Christ's as separated from God. "He who sent me is true, and the things I have heard of Him, these same I speak in the world . I do nothing of m;fself, but as the Father has taught me, these things I speak" (John 8:26, 28). Even the Father does not judge alone: "Neither doth the Father judge any man, but hath given all judgment to the Son" (John 5:22); and yet the Father does judge with the Son: "Arid if I do judge, my judgment is true: because I am not alone,but I and the .Father that sent me" (John 8:16). Hence it is that acceptance of Christ is acceptance of the Father: "He that believeth in me, doth not believe in me, but in him that sent me . I have not spoken of myself; but the Father who sent me, he gave me com-mandment what I should say and what I should speak" (John 12: 44, 49). Incidentally, the same is true of the Hol~ Ghost: He, too, "shall not speak of himself: but what things soever be shall hear, he Shall speak . . . he shall glorify me, because he shall receive of mine" (John 16:13). Only the Father has knowledge without origin; the Sod and the Holy Ghost bare the same identical knowledge, but from the Father. In the same way, Christ says that He did not come to do His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him. None can doubt that Christ's will was for the salvdtion of men: "I am~ the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep . . . therefore doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life 7O March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE that I may tak~ it again" (dohn 10:il, 17). And yet He says: "I came down from heaven not to do my own w, ill, but the will of Him that sent me" (3ohn 6:38 andcf, v. 30). The heart of Christ is not more compassionate nor more tender than the heart of His Father: "For God so loved the world, as to give His only begotten Son: that whosoever believeth in him,' may not perish, but may have life everlasting" (John 3:16). The will of the Father and the will of the Son for the salvation of the world is the same, "for God sent not his "Son into the world, to judge the world, but that the world might be saved by, him" (John 3:17). This unity of will is touchingly manifest.on the death of Lazarus. Jesus had wept, "and the Jews said, "Behold bow be loved him." And when the stone was removed, lifting up his eyes, He said: "Father, I give thanks that thou hast heard me. And I know that thou hearest me always; but because of the people who stand about I have said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me." Then He cal.led the dead man out of the tomb. He knew His Father's will was to do what He wished. They willed the same, and Christ's human will was perfectly in accord with His Father's divine will. Christ's power is the same as His Father's. "The Son cannot do anything of Himself, but what he seeth the Father doing: for what things so ever he doth, these the Son Mso doth in like man-ner. For as the Father raiseth up the dead and giveth life: so also the Son giveth life to whom he will" (John 5:20). "If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not" (John 10:37). The works, of course, referred pri'marily to the miracles: stilling the storm, feeding the five thousand, giving sight to the blind man, raising Lazarus from the dead;, but they include all that Christ did. "Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me? The words that I speak to you, I speak not of myself. But the Father who abideth in ,me, he doth His own works" (John 14:10). But the unity of power is most clearly showia when Christ speaks of protecting His sheep: He knows His sheep and they follow Him and He will give them life everlasting. "No man shall pluck them out of my hand." Whence this absolute confi-dence that no created power can steal away His sheep? "No one can snatch them out of the hand of my Father. I and the Father are one" (John 10:29, 30). His power is the same as His Father's All that Christ'has is given. Him by the Father; and the Father holds nothing back from the Son, not even His own life. His dis- 7.1 BERNARD LEEMING Review /:or Religious ciples wh~ weke,faithful to Him were given Him by His Father: "Thine they were, and to me thou gavest them" (John 17:6). deed, all the Father has, is the Son's: "All my things are thine, and thine are mine" (John 17:1Q). "The Father loveth the Son, and he hath given all things into his hand;' (John 3:35). And . before the washing of the feet, perhaps surprisingly~ St. John tells us: "Knowing that the Father had given him all things into 'his hands, and that he cache from God and goeth to God: he "riseth Trom sup-per, and layeth aside his garments, and having .taken a ,towel, girded himself'" and put the water into a basin and began to wa~sh ¯ ,the feet of the disciples (John 13:3 ff.). His knowledge that all He had was of the Father is perhaps the very reason why He wished to inculcate humility; since the Father kept back nothing from Him, He in turn wished to give His service and to show that such humble service is a reflection of the very life of God. But the Father gives even His own life: "As the F'ather hath life in himself, so be bath given to the Son also to have life in himself" (John 5:26). "The living Father has sent me and I live by the Father" (John 6:58). "Philip, he that seeth me, seeth the Father also. How sayeth thou, Shew us the Father? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me?" (John 14:9, 10.) Hence it is that Christ is the Utterance of God (John 1:1), the Image of God (II Cor. 4:4), the Radiance of God's splendour and the very expression of His being (Heb. 1;3), the Light of God (John 1:9), the Way to God: "No man cometh to the Father but by me" (John 14:6). Yet in spite of this perfect equality, the Son is sent by His Father, and receives commands from His Father. "Do you say of him whom the Father. hath sanctified and sent into the world: Thou blasphemest, because I said, I am the Son of God?" (John 10:36.) "Thou hast sent me into the world" (John 17:18). After the conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well, the apostles urged Him to eat: "But he said to them: I have meat to eat; which you know not. The disciples therefore 'said one to an-other: Hath any man brought him to eat? Jesus said to them: M_y meat is to do the will of him that sent me, that~I may perfect his work"' (John 4:32-35). His very life, His sustenance and strength consisted in d, oing His Father's will and work. The Father even commands Him; at the very end of the discourse about the Good Shepherd, our Lbrd said: "This commandment have I re- March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE ceived bf my father," (John 10:18), and the commandmbnt ap-pears to be that He should be the Good Shepherd, who lays down His life for His sheep. Just before going, to Gethsemani, He said: "But that the world may know that I love the Father, and as the Father hath given me commandment, so do I: Arise let us go hence" (John 14:31). And Of his whole sojourn in the. world, at the end He said: "I have glorified thee on the earth; I have finished the work which thou gav, est me.to do" (John 7:4). Now, of course, the giving of a command can only be because Christ is man; and. yet the commandment, like the sending, reflects the eternal relation between Father and Son. It is the Son who is sent, not the Father: not sent as a servant by a master, nor even as a king might be sent to war by advisers and counsellors; but sent somewhat as a flower is sent forth by a .plant. The temporafl sending, with its resultant presenc,e in a different way--f.6r Christ as God is present everywhere, but as man only in Palestine--re-flects the eternal relation of origin from the Father (St. Thomas, Summa, 1, Q. 43,-a.1). The Father could not be sent, because He is Father; and, although all that He has is the Son's, neverthe- .less that "all He has" and even the divine being is the Son's, al-ways with the relationship of originating from the Father. As of the sending, so too of 'the obedience. That too arises naturally from the eternal relationsh'ip between Father and Son; for as the 'Son originates from the Father in very being, so too do all His thinking and His willing. What our Lord wanted was what or-iginated in the Father, and He could not want anything whatever' which did not originate in the Father. Thus His obedience reflects his eternal relationship to ,the Father and is a manifestation to us of that. mysterious unity of being and nature which yet admits distinctive of persons. Through our Lord's unity with God by obedience in his incarnate life, we are led on to know his unitY with God in His divine life. , OUR OBEDIENCE AND OUR SHARE IN THE LIFE OF GOD Very often obedience is thought of as a matter of our owrl effort, something we must do, and do with striving and resolution. We must, indeed; nevertheless, obedience is a gift of God. As the Father gave all things to His Son," even t6 having absolutely the same will, so, too, if we are to have absolutely the same will as our Father and as Christ, we must receive it of the Father, through the Son, and in the Holy Ghost. For to have the same will "as God 73 BERNARD LEEMING Reoiew for Religious means that we become sharers in God's nature, as Christ our Lord truly was God and showed it by doing the works of His Father, -while yet remaining a distinct person. There was unity of nature, ot: doing and accomplishing: they willed absolutely the same and tl~is willing the same reflected the unity of being which was theirs. So too our, coming to bare the same will as God can only arise from a unity of being. God's will" IS Himself: He does not change, to-day wanting one thing, tomorrow another; but from all eternity He is His will; and, 'though in time His will is accomplished in different acts, those acts only reflect the will that was unchanging from eternity and conform the changing to the Eternal. "The Father who abidetb in me, He dotb the works" can become true of us, likewise, but only because of the gift of God of Himself, the gift of His abiding in us. And that God should abide in us, surely that is His free gift to us, which no effort of our own could at-tain and no prayer of ours--apart from His desire told to us-- could aspire to ask. God is God and man is man, but His surpass-ing gift is that we should truly become sharers in the divine nature (II Peter 1:4) and hence sharers in His divine will, sent forth from Him as Son and Holy Ghost are sen,t forth, yet completely and utterly one with Him always. This is one of the greatest gifts that God gives us in our vo-cation as religious, to enable us~ to share in that complete self-giv-ing which is the life of the Blessed Trinity, to be enabled to give to Him our last self-possession, our own will and judgment, and by giving it to Him, to receive it back from Him glorious, and divinized,.part even of Himself. "And the glory which thou hast given me, I have given to them; that they may be one, as we also are one: I in them, and thou in me; that they may be made perfect in one" ~Jobn 17:23). "To leave the world and give up exterior pos-sessions," says St. Gregory, "is possibly easy to some; but for a man to give up himself, to immolate what is most precious to him by.surrendering his entire liberty is a much more arduous task; to forsake what one has is a small thing: to forsake what one is, that is the supreme gift" (Horn. 32, MPL 76 col. 1233). And it isthe supreme gift, because it most reflects the life of the Blessed Trinity. Our obedience is grounded upon faith. Military obedience-- aport from the subjective motive of individuals--is based upon practical necessity and utility: someone must decide, and there is not. time to explain the reasons for the decision to each soldieL Without obedience, there would be confusion and defeat. Never- 74 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE theless, military obedience has its limits. Of certain soldiers who refused to obey it was said that "they were to~ intelligent to get themselves killed just to prove that some general was a fool." That is one reason why General M~ntgomery in his book on generalship declares that "it is part of the art of command to inspire and main-tain confidence in the soldiers, and why in his battles he explained a great deal of his plans to the soldiers. But religious obedience has a different basis. It is true that obedience does make for efficient work, for order, for unity. But this is not the reason ultimately why religious obey. We obey because we belieoe, believe that it is God who speaks to us in the person of our superior, and that, consequently, when we do the superior's will, we do God's will and hence are united to God. In this sense, obedience is not a means to an end; it is an end in itself; for by faith we believe that in uniting ourselves to the superior's will we unite ourselves to God's own will, and unity with God is not a means to anything else. This, naturally, supposes that we obey from love of God, git)ir~q ourselves to God in obedience; and thus the utility of doing what we are told to do does not enter in; whatever the effect of what we do, here and now by obeying I am united to God; and, in the absolutely ultimate result, the effect must be good, no matter what the immediate effects. Obedience is like faith. Often, though we know it is fully reasonable to believe, the obscurity of faith comes home to us: hoto can it be that Christ is present beneath the appearances of a wafer? How can a good God permit so many evils? Neverthless, this ob-scurity does not shake our faith, though it may afflict the imagina-tion and the power of reasoning. We know that He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and that His dwelling is in unapproach-able light; no human eye has ever seen Him or can ever see Him (I Tim. 6:16). We know that "my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways: for as the heavens are ex-alted above the earth, so are my ways exalted above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts" (Isaias 4:8, 9). Nothing could shake our faith, because it is God whom we believe. Now, similarly, our obedience like our faith involves obscurity. How could God be represented by one so ignorant, prejudiced, and unlikable? How could God ratify so stupid a policy, one based on complete ignor-ance of the conditions? How can God permit this situation to con-tinue, when His own interests are at stake? Such obscurities may indeed trouble our imaginations and even our powers of reasoning; 5 'BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religio-s nevertheless they cannot shake the deep conviction that in obeying this superior, in this policy, in this mariner of proceeding, I am obeying God Himself; I am doing His will, arid notthe ignorant, stupid, or prejudiced will of any creature. My obedience rests on the faith that believes God does act thro,ugh creatures, that He is immanent to creatures and-not afar off. St. Margaret Mary had revelations from our Lord, revelations approved by the Church afterwards; and yet our Lord said to her that she should prefer th'e will of her superiors to a'fly command of His. W~e' look with ey,es of faith, not upon a weak creature, but upon the infinitely holy and infinitely wise God of all consolation, who acts in and through the creature. Blessed Claude de la Colombi~re once wrote: "A Superior may 'govern badly, but it is impossible that G~d should not govern you well by means of him. My dear Sister, let that be your deepest conviction. For if you do not', base yourself firmly on this prin-ciply, you are losing your time in religion: for your whole life is nothing but obedience, arid this obedience.is meritless unless offered to God in the person whom He has put in place of Himself. A:nd we certainly do not turn our gaze on God when we undertak'e to judge, examine and above all to condemn what is commanded us. When it is the Holy Ghost who possesses us, He inspires us with the simplicity of a child who finds everything good and everything reasonable; or. if you prefer, with a divine prudence which discov-ers God in everything,' and recogmzes Him in. all those who rep-resent Him, even in those who are poorest in virtue and in natural and supernatural qualities." (Oeut;res, VII, 109-10, 1853 ed.) = ,In those words Blessed Claude expressed part of the gift of obedience: the inspiration of the Holy Ghost to make us simple, to give us supernatural prudence to see God truly in superiors. St. Catherine of Siena, in her delightful Dialogue ot~ Obedience (trans-lated by Algar Thorold). insists greatly on faith being the means of obedience and teaches likewise that we may progress in obedi-ence. God speaks and says to her: "Now I wish thee to see and know this most excellent virtue in that humble and immaculate Lamb, and the source whence it proceeds. What caused the great obedience of the Word? The love which He had for My honour and your salvatiofi. Whence proceeded this love? From the clear vision with which His soul saw the divine essence and the eternal Trinity, thus always looking on Me, the eternal G6d. His fidelity obtained this vision for Him, and most perfectly, ~ which vision you 76 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE imperfectly enjoy by th~ light,of holy faith" (Ch. 135). And thig vision both comes through obedience and fosters obedience. "Does the weight of obedience," she asks, "cause the obedient man pain? No, for he has trampled on his own will and does not care to ex-amine or, judge the will of his superior, for with the light of faith he sees My will !in him, believing truly that My clemency causes him to dommand according to the needs of his subject's sal-vation" (Ch. 140). "Obedience gives a !ight in the soul, which shows whether she is faithful to Me and her order and superior, in which light of holy faith she forgets hersel£; for by the obedience which she has ac-quired through the light of faith, she shows that her will is dead' to its own feeling, and seeks the advantage of others and not her own. Just as the disobedient man who examines the will, of his superior, may ju.dge~it according to his own low opinion and dark-ened knowled~ge instead of judging his own perverse will which' gives him death, the truly obedient man, illumined by faith, judge's ~the will of his superior to be good, and therefore does not examine it, but inclines his bead and nourishes his soul with the odour of true and holy obedience. And this virtue increases in the soul in proportion to the shinin~.l of the light of fhith, with which the soul knows herself, and Me, whom she loves, and humbles her-self; and the more she loves Me and humbles herself, the more obedient she becomes, for, obedience, and her sister patience prove whether the soul is in truth Clothed with the nuptial garment of charity, which is necessary to enter into eternal life" (Cb. 44). St. Teresa of Avila also declares that obedience is something like a treasure in a mine, Which can only be. dug out gradually and progressively. Speaking of the treasure of complete union with God, she says: "Bellevue me, then there is no better way of finding this treasure than that of toiling and digging so as to draw it forth from the mine of obedience; for the more we dig the more we shall find, and the more we ,subject ourselves to men, having no other will but that of those who are over us, the more we shall master our will so as to conform it to the will of God:' (Foundations, Ch. 5).,~ St. Ignatius of ~oyola puts three degrees of obedience: the first, when wi actually do what we are c6mmanded; the second, when wedo it willingly; and the third, when we submt.t our understandL ing to the superior's and come to have the,lsame judgment as bis: Now these are not necessarily stages through iwhich we hi~ve to pass, 77 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious though indeed they.may be kinds of stages through which we pass; but they clearly indicate divisions into which obedience may fall. It is possible to do what we are ordered but to rebel interiorly, or even to grumble and complain and yet carry out the order. It is possible also to cajole a superior into agreement with what we want. This is indeed a certain kind of obedience. Then there_is willingness ,in obedience: to do the thing promptly, perseveringly, and putting our best efforts into it to make it suc'ceed. But the highest degree is' had when we agree with the superior's mind and have the same view and ~outlook on the thing aS he has. It is clear that this last most closely approaches to the obedience of'Christ to His Father: His docffine, was not His own, but His Father's. He judges with the Father; He does not speak of Himself, but as the Father gives Him to speak; and He is the very word of the Father, the expression of the Father, the very mind of the Father: He and His Father are one. If the superior represents God for us, then no lower standard than our Lord's obedience to His Father can content us. How is it possible to be united in mind with a superior who is stupid," unwise, and imprudent in his commands? Christ could obey His Father absolutely because His Father was absolute truth; absolute wisdom; but how can we conform our minds to one who is by no means absolute truth or wisdom? The answer is that where the superior commands, we unite our wills and minds with his exactly insofar as he commands, not necessarily insofar as his command is designed to attain a particu-lar purpose. The purpose of the command is not part of the com-mand. For instance, a provincial superior may order a local superior to be indulgent, or to be severe, with a particular s, ubject. The local superior may on natural' grounds be convinced that i.ndulgence, or severity, is injurious to the subject, that the provincial superior is mistaken in his estimate of the method required. It is here, partly, that the mystery enters; for the theory of obedience holds that the judgment about success or failure is irrelevant: who can tell what, in God's eyes, is success or failure? The order must be obeyed, and in the spirit, with trust in God's over-riding providence: He will bless the obedience, although we cannot see how. For me, I see Christ in the command and that is enough. What does it matter, in the last analysis, about the "success" or "failure" of the policy? God must look to that; and I can leave it to Him, doir~g so the ¯ more trustfully the less I see how He can draw good out of it. 78 March, 1956 THE ~MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE How do we progress in obedience~? Ver~y gener1a1 y at the be, ginning of our religigus life obedience on theI whole is not difficult; there may be strange customs, repugnances to be overcome in ac-commodating ourselves to different points of the Rule. But on the whole, obedience is likely to be taken more or less for granted as part of the religious regime. Nevertheless, sooner or later trials are likely to arise. A superior may not understand us, ol may dis-approve of us; and then obedience can be a very arid affair indeed. There is small comfort in it; and, if one takes literally the superior for God, one is inclined to imagine that a superior's disapproval means God's disapproval. This is not, of'course, strictly irue; for a superior is not judge of our spiritual state, but takes the place of God in telling us what to do. Nevertheless, a superior's disapproval may be a searing trial, especially for some characters; and it is then that one must walk by blind faith, hoping against hope, as it were, that God will bring all right, possessing our soul in patience and bending our minds and wills as best we can. This may be only a purifying trial: to wean us from our purely natural obedience, to prevent us thinking obedience is within our own natural power. Then we can only be faithful, be patient, andtrust God: believing still that He is acting in the superior. But, if we are faithful, the light will surely break through: there can come a certain sense of reverence for God, even in this superior: a sense that we are really held captive by God, and so a certain peace in obeying which is not upset by surges of feeling, whether of depression or of irritation or of rebellion. God is there in spit~ of everything; and somehow fears begin to vanish: in sick-ness or in.health, in success or failure: "For I know whom I have believed, and I am certain that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him, against that day" (II Tim. 1:12). Our trans-formation into Christ proceeds; and His obedience begins to seem a reality to us, and self-will, self-settlement, self-judgment begin to fade away. The memory, the imagination, and even the reason-ing powers may play tricks; but the calm conviction remains that it is good for me to cleave to the Lord, and that at the head of my book it is written that I should do Thy Will, O God. And here it may be well to return to another aspect of Christ's obedience; an aspect which shows how obedience made Him our °saving Victim, and how obedience will unite us to Him in a u~nion truly trarisforming. , 79 BERNARD LEEMING Reoiew for Religio'us CHRIST'S OBEDIENCE AND.THE REDEMPTION OF MANKIND Our Saviour's obedience was neither negative nor passive; He did not merely abstain from forbidden things, nor-did He, as it were, merely wait on events and allow Himself to be governed' by them. It w, as not the case that He came to endure death, and in consequence merely waited for the Jews to come and kill ,Him. On the contrary, His obedience was positive and active. 'He knew in-deed the inevitable end, but He knew that end was to come only as'a consequence of His active obedience to His Father's command to be the Good Sh.epherd. He journeyed from Nazareth to Caphar-nauru through Galilee, up to Cesarea Philippi, nearer Damascus than Jerusalem, and to Bethsaida, and through Sar;aaria, and to Jericho and Jerusalem, probably more than once. Pharisees were attracted to him from every town of Galilee, Judea, and Jerusalem (Luke 5:17). He gathered twelve apostles and seventy-two d~isciples and instructed them. He ,taught the people in the synagogues, in the tqwns, in the fields, on the mountain sides, by the lake sides, His energy and His force, the power he had, roused the fear of thd chief priests and the Jews, and they said: "Do you" see that we preva, il nothing? behold the whole world is gone after him" (John 12:19). He rebuked their hypocrisy fiercely and fearlessly. He drove the buyers and sellers from the temple, "and the disciples remembered that it was written 'The zeal of thy house hath eaten meoUP' " (John 2:17). The Jews put spies to report His words, and to lay traps for Him (Luke 20:19-20). "This command 'have I received'frdm my F'athe~," a command to spread the truth and the charit,y of His Father, even if in ful-filling that command He was to provoke the enmi'ty of the wicked and to draw down death unto Himself. About ,this obedience of Christ, St. Thomas puts the objection: ,"The will of God is not for the death Of ,men, even of sinners, but rather for their life, as Ezechiel ~ays:'I will not the death ofthe sinner but tl~at he should b~ converted and live. Much less then could it have been thd will of God the Father that the most perfect of .all men should be sub-jected to death." And ~he answers: "Although the will of God is 'not for the death of any man, nevertheless God-wills the virtue by which a. man bravely endures death and from charity exposes him-self to the peril of death. And in this.sense was the will of God for the death of Christ, in as much as Christ incurred the risk of death from charity and bravely endured death" (Contra Gentiles, 4, 55, ad 15). "As the Father has given me commandment, so 80 (¢larch, 1956 THE MYSTIC.ISM OF ~)BEDIENCE do I." Christ incurred the risk of death-not by passivity,' but by an activity which provoked opposition, by an actiVity which upset the whole of 3udaea and Palestine. Thus our Lord's obedience was vibrant with energy and was most complete.ly in accord with the mind and intentions and desire of His Father. He and the Father were one, in very being, though not in person; and when the Son became man among men there was One who gave to the most loving God the rndst energetic and loving service and praise, and gave it not on.ly for God's sake, but. for man's sake. It was by His obedience that Christ redeemed the world: "for as by the disobedience of one man," says St. Paul, "th~ many were made sinners; so also by the obedience of one, the many shall be made just" (Rom. 5:19). Surely a great mystery, that the destiny of us all should be so linked with the obedience or dis-obedience of two men: a mystery reflected in minor degree by the mysterious fact that we are all to some degree dependent upon one another in so many ways. It was because of obedience that Christ received the name Jesus. St. Paul tells us" that God in his fore-knowledge of the obedience unto death had given Him the name above all names (Phil. 2:8, 9).; and the angel ordered St.Joseph "and thou shalt call Hi~ name Jesus, ~for He shall save his people from their sins" (Matt. 1:21). Because He was obedient unto death, therefore He has that name above all names: Jesus the obedi-ent, Jesus the Saviour. And because of that same obedience He is a priest forever. Our redemption was accomplished by the sacrifice of Christ, pr.ecisely because that sacrifice was an expression of the 'most ab-solute submission of the will of the Incarnate Son of God to the will of God. St. paul puts it in chapter ten of his letter to the Hebrews: "For it is impossible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sin. Hence he saith When entering into the world: Sacrifice and offering thou hast not desired. But thou hast pierced ~ars for me (a body thou hast prepared for ine). In holocausts and sin-offerings thou hast taken no pleasure: Then I said: Behold I am come (In the volume so it is written of me) To do, O God, thy will. In virtue of this 'will' we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus once for all" (Heb. 10:4 ff., Boylan's, transla-tion in the Westminster versiorl). The line quoted by St. Paul from Ps. 39: "thou has pierced ears for me" is given thus in the Hebrew and in the Douay: but St. Paul probably quoted from the Septuagint. The piercing of ears 81 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religiod's means the power of listening to God and hence of obeying Him. We find the same usage in English. Children are told by their mothers, "You will not listen to me"--you will not accept my advice nor do what I want; and children in turn think it wrong "not to listen .to me muther." What pleased God in Christ was the complete acceptance of His divine will: the highest offering to God is the offering of the whole b~ing to do His will; and, because it was a divine Person who made that offering with the uttermost perfec-tion as a man on earth, and made it for our sakes, to fulfill God's will that we might be .sanctified, we therefore all receive the power of being made holy through the sacrifice of Christ. There is yet another m~stery in this obedience of Christ: al-though He was God's own Son and knew perfectly His Father's will and loved that will, nevertheless He feels repugnance in the actual carrying of it into effect. One might perhaps imagine that' one so infinitely holy as our Lord would be so lifted up that there would be no feeling of recoil or repugnance from whatever His loving Father willed. Yet we know it was not so. When He was riding to Jerusalem just before the last Passover, certain Gr.eeks wanted to see Him, and He spoke of the underlying mystery of His life and death: "Unless the grain of wheat falling into the ground die, itself remaineth alone. But if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it, and he that hateth his life in this world, keepeth it unto life eternal" and then, mys-teriously, "Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I sa.y? Father, save me from this hour. But for this cause I came unto this hour" (John 12:27). How can He pray His Father to save Him from the pain and suffering and death, when it was precisely to endure them that He came? And yet, His very soul is distressed; it is an anticipation of the agony in the garden, when He "began to fear and t6 13e heavy, and he said to them, 'My soul is sorrowful even unto death' . . . and he fell flat on the ground; and he prayed, that.if it might be, the hour might'pass from him. !~nd he sayeth, Abba, Father, all things ar~ possible, to thee: remove this c~halice from me; but. not what I will, but what thou wilt" (Mark 14:33-35). What His Father willed was not to be fulfilled directly between Him and His Father, but through people like Judas, Annas, Caiphas, Pilate, the Jewish mob, and the Roman soldiers; and it means not only physical suffering but denial of justice, denial of a fair bear-ing'of what He had to say, and. to say not so much for Himself 82 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE but for His Father, for God; 'it meant acceptance of that humanly mysterious providence of God which_ permits so much evil. Our Lord was a real man, with all a man's feeling, instincts, natural reactions: His divinity did not derogate in the least fro'm the full-ness of His humanity. Consequently, He experienced the ifistinc-. tive recoil of the feelings against pain and against death; further, even His natural reason and intellectual choice judged that death and rejection were hateful and in themselves to be avoided, and so His prayer was "if it be possible; let this chalice pass." St: Thomas tells us that our Lord prayed so to show us the reality of His human nature and to show that it is permissible, according merely to natural impulses to wish what God does not wish ("ut ostenderet quod homini iicet secundum naturalem affectum aliquid velle quod Deus non vult," Summa, 3, (~.21,a.2). Nevertheless the absolute choice; when all is conside.re.d, goes out straight to God's will, however repugnant to instincts and feeling and merely natural judgment (Summa, 3, Q. 18,a.6), and is in a sense the more united to God's will, because with His human will He ap-proves the instinctive reluctance of human 'nature, is glad to find it hard; and thus He can make the offering .of submission most truly as a man and with the fullness of His manhood. Not, in-deed, that these natural recoils against the horrors of the Passion in any way divided Christ in Himself, or lessened His glorious ac- ¯ ceptance of His Father's will, or blurred in any way the clearness of His vision--as fears and hopes and emotions do in us; never-theless, He felt the difficulties, even mental, just as acutely and more acutely than we could do, just as He could suffer physical pain as we do, and feel it more acutely. St. Paul spea.ks of Christ's obedience in a,way in which per-haps we might hesitate to do; he says: "Christ during his earthly life, offered prayer and entreaty to the God who could .save him from death, not without a piercing cry, not without tears; yet with. such piety as won him a hearing. Son of God though be was, he learned obedience in the school of suffering, and now, his full achievement reached, he wins eternal salvation for all those who render obedience to him" (Heb. 5:7-9, Knox tr.). St. Thomas, in his commentary on this text, makes this ob-jection: "To learn things, presupposes that one is ignorant of them. But Christ from all eternity~ being God, and even a's man from the first instant of His conception knew everything and had the fullness of knowledge. Consequently, since He knew every- 83 BERNARD LEEMING ~ Reoieto for Religious thing, how can it be said that He learned ,things?" . St." Thom, as answers': "There is a double kind of knowledge, the first being simple awhreness of the truth, and in this sense~Christ was ignorant of nothing. But there is also the knowledge begotten of experience, and according to this Paul says 'He learned from what He suffered [or in the school of experience]',' that is by actu-ally °experiencing. And the Apostle speaks thus because he who learns anything must willingly put himself in a position to learn it. Now Christ willingly took to Himself our weakness; and hence Paul says 'he learned obedience,' that is, how hard it is to obey, becauseoHe obeyed in most onerous and difficult matters, even to the death of the cross. And here he shows how difficult it is to attain the good of obedience. Because they who have not experi-enced obedience and have not learned it in difficult matters, believe that to obey is very easy. But in'fact to grasp what obedience really is, one has to learn to obey in difficult affairs, and he who has'not learned by'obedience to be subject, never knows how to command well and be a superior. Christ, therefore, although from eternity he knew by simple awareness what obedience was, nevertheless learned by experience obedience from what He suffered, that is, in. actual difficulties, through suffering and death" (Cornmentartl in Hebrews, ad loc.). But there is yet a greater myster~ here. The prayers of Christ, His tears, His entreaty to God who could save Him from death, these are not merely individual: they are His as head of the body, as forming one with us. He prays, entreats, weeps, ~uffers .for us and with us. S~. Gregory~Nazianzus says that w.hen Christ prayed upon the cross: "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?'" He spoke in the person of all mankind; and adds that this text about learning obedience must be understood in the same way: ':Having taken the nature of a slave, He condescends to enter fully into the life of His fellow-slaves and of slaves generally; and assumes a form different from His own, bearin'g the whole of me and all that I am within Himself, in order that in Himself. He may melt away my lower self, as fire the wax and the sun the morning mists, in order that I, through fusion with Him, may take in exthangeall that is His. Hence in very deed does He honour obedience and make trial of it in suffering. For the mere intention was not enough, just as it is not enough for us, unless we 'carry it out in act. For the act is the proof of the intention. Nor would it be far wrong to" understand that. He experienced our obedience and measured all 84 March, 1956 '~. THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE human things by, His own sufferings, and did so because of ,His affection and love for men: so that He.can estimate our experiences by His own, and reckon by suffering and weakness how much to demand of us and how much to yield to ,our infirmity" (Oratio Theologica 1, n.6; Migne Patres Graeci, 36, col. 109, 112). It was not He alone who was saved from death, but,the whole Of mankin~l who are united to Him, for whom He prayed, for whom He obeyed, "and offered His sacrifice. St. Leo says that the cross was the altar on ~vhich "through that saving victim the of-fering of the whole of ,human nature was a, ccomplished" (Sermo c.3; M.P.L. 54, 324). He ,bears "the whole of me and"all that I am within Himself" and offers His obedience for me to make up for my failures, to transfuse my dull and murky obedience with the radiance of His infinitely glorious obedience; and to* do the same for the, whole of mankind, becoming "hostiam. puram, hostian~ sanctam, bostiam immaculatam'" a sacrifice wholly sincere, holy, immaculate, and hence utterly acceptable to God for all of us. OUR OBEDIENCE AND OUR UNION WITH CHRIST THE SAVIOUR Our Lord is very explicit that "I am the way, the truth and the life. No man cometh to the Father, but by me." .It is only Christ who sends the iSpirit of God (John 16:7) and even the Spirit of God "receiveth of Christ's and shows it to us (John 16 : 15). "And because you are sons God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts'" (Gal. 4:9). "God has sent his only begotten Son into the world that we may live by him" (I John 4:9). There is no way in which we can go to God except in. Christ. There is no right manner of praying which neglects the Incariaate Word, or so tries to dispense with images or use of the imagination 'that-it passes over Jesus of Nazareth. There is no true mysticism save that Which is based upon faith in Jesus Christ. Now our Lord greatly commends obediencd to us. "Whoever shall do "the will of my Father, 'that is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother" (Matt 12:50). Even His own dear~other was dear to Him most of all because she "heard the word of God" and kept it (Luke 9:28). "Fie that bath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me. And he that loveth me shall be lox)ed of my Father: and I will love Jaim': and will manifest myself to him." Our Lord could not make us a greater promise than to be~loved of His-FatheL to be Ioved.by Him, and to receive a manifestation, a re;celation of our Lord" Himself. BERNARD LEEMING Review [or Religious Based~upon these promises, to our Lord, the saints most strongly commend obedience to us'. St. Teresa says: "I believe that since Satan sees there is no road that leads more quickly to the highest perfection than this of obedience, he suggests many difficulties under the colour of some good, and makes it distasteful: let people look well into it, and they will see plainly that I am telling the truth. Wherein lies the highest perfection? It is clear that it does not lie in interior delights, not in great raptures, not in visions, not in the spirit of prophecy, but in the conformity of our will to the will of God, so that there shall be nothing we know He wills that we do not will ourselves with our whole will, and accept the bitter as joyfully as the sweet, knowing it to be His Majesty's will" (Fodndations, ch. 5). The reason for this statement, that our, union with God is in ~vill rather than in any perceptions that belong to our intellectual fac.ulties, seems to be this: anything that we know, we know accord-ing to our o.wn mind; the object known comes into our mind and necessarily to some extent takes on the shape of our mind, and hence shares in the limitations of our mind. The mind assimilates to itself the object known, and in so doing limits the obje'ct in some way. Consequently, we can only know God by means of comparisons, indirectly: in this life we cannot see God directly as He is, because be is too great for our minds to take in. -But the will is different from the intellect in that it does not ~bape the object by drawing the object into itself, but ,rather goes out to the object as it is in itself; the will therefore does not limit the object by its own limitations as the mind do~s. It follows from this, tb_at, although we cannot know God, in this life, exactly as He is, nevertheless we can love God Himself exactly as He is, be-cause our minds can get to God truly ~nd hence our wills can go out to God insofar as He is truly represented in oflr minds, and not insofar as the mind obscures God by imperfect, indirect knowl-edge. I can love a person, even though I do not knov¢ him thor-ougbly: I can know him enough to love him, and it is he himself that I love, and not my own imperfect conception of him. Hence, in this life our union with God is primarily a uni6n of will, although since man is one whole, that union of will reacts upon the intellect and upon all the powers of the soul, and bell~s to greater perception and awareness. One cannot be united to God in will without somehow coming to be aware of that~ fusion of wills and thus coming into almost direct contact with God Him- 86 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE self. St. Catherine of Siena was told that "the truly obedient man , always retains the desire of submission, and that this desire is like an inward refrain of music" (quoted by Marmion from the Dialogue~ on Obedience : Christ the Ideal of the Monk, p. 262). In this way, obedience is really a form of contemplation, simple, easy, and effective; and not wearisome to the bead. "This is what I am or-dered to do. It is God's will for me. I do it. That is God. That is all." Nor is this hindered if our obedience is very active, even if in obedience we must use initiative and ingenuity and resource. It is then that the very powers of the mind are given to God, wl~at intelligence we may have, what force of character, what gift of imagination, even what magnetism we may have to attract others. These are given to God, through the hands of the human beings who represent Him, and used gladly as we are directed~ because there is great security in using all our gifts as the mind of God, represented by a human superior, directs. Nothing could be m6re mistaken than to take the comparisons 9ften used by the saints, of a d~ad body, or an old man's staff, and apply them beyond their real application. They are not used to indicate complete passivity, but to indicate that we make no resistance to being moved from this house to the other, from this post to the other, or, even, that we are content if obedience makes no use of our talents at all. They in-dicate that we are completely dead and nothing but a walking stick as regards our own peculiar ideas when they clash with the su-perior's. Perhaps if the saints bad known of bose pipes, with a strong and full pressure of water in them, they might have used the comparison of a hose pipe which could be turned in this direc-tion or that, made to'give a heavy stream of water or a narrow jet, according as the bands holding it directed. The comparisons mean that the force and power which God may- bare given us is placed utterly in the control of the superior, as representing God; and that by faith we believe that the only good result will come from the union of that force and powe.r with the will of God as interpreted to us by His representative. . Here, too, enters what is called blind obedience. Now to inter-pret blind obedience as unintelligent, stupid obedience would be itself unintelligent and stupid. The more intelligent people are the more they must use their intelligence in order to obey well. The blindness only comes in after all due representations bare been made --and it is part of the duty of obedience to make reasonable repre- BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious sentations, even to make them forcibly on .occasion-- and the su-perior orders us to do something with which our natural reason does not agree, for which we cannot see the reasons or the reason-ableiaess. It is then that we must be carried by an impulse of the will, blind to natural reasons, desirous only of conforming the understanding to the mind of the superior. And mtich can be done in this way: to close our mental ears to contrary reasonings, to look at it from the superior's side, and to make ourselves well af-fected to our superior. We cannot, of course, assent contrary to the known truth; but often the truth about the wisdom of a course of action can be perceived differently according to the antecedent state of mind in which we train ourselves, and according to the way we allow our minds toact. If we have opened our minds to the reve-lation of 6ur Lord beneath the deficiencies of the human agent, then it is easier to see God's will in what may naturally only look like ignorance, prejudice, favouritisrri, or vanity, So often it happens that lack of the spirit of obedience leads to narrow and restricted views. Obedience can and does take the ,long view. God's providence works oddly. Perhaps God sometimes 'wishes a poor superior, an incompetent superior, in order to use them as a lesson for subjects, or perhaps one special subject, a lesson to teach them what to do, and ~hat not to do, when they themselves are superiors! And to oppose that superior, to magnify his defects, to allow feelings to become ruffled, or depression to take possession of the 'spirit--this is Clearly to oppose God Himself, contrary to what we have promised Him." Perhaps God wants a certain 'work to fail, and to fai.1 precisely through our most obedient efforts and strivings, in order'to obtain some greater good of which we cannot be aware. In this sense, it is perfectly true that obedience, although. its proper fruit may seem to be to perfect the will, :nevertheless also perfects the understanding: it gives the understanding length and breadth and depth, conforming it to the infinite wisdom and knowl-edge of God. Often only in retrospect are we able to see that it was not only virtuous to obey, but was very wise, also. "Because you are conscious within yourselves," says St. Ig-natius of Loyola, "that you have undergone this yoke of obedi-ence for the love of God, to the end that you might, in following the Superior's will, more assuredly follow the divine, will; doubt not, but that the mgst faithful charity of our Lord continually directs you and .leads you in the right Way" by the hands of those whom He gives you for Superiors.''~ 88 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE This yoke of obedience: it can indeed bear heavily, it ban chafe and sometimes cut, and force us to go on and on dragging a weari-some burden. Christ Hirhself'felt the burden, and even prayed that it might be lifted from Him. And yet to Him, His Father's charity was faithful, most faithful; and even through the hands of Annas and Caiphas, of Judas and of Pilate, that faithful charity of His Father led Christ in that right way that led to our salvation. Christ obeyed for me. Christ }rusted His father for me. Christ loved me and delivered Himself for met delivered Himself for me not only that my sins migh}: be forgiven, that grace might come to me, but als'o that to me might come the honour of sharing His obedience with Him, of offering the noblest part of me to His Father with His offering, even of making myself one with His self-giving for the redemption~ of mankind. Nothing so unites us to Christ as Obedience;. for perfect obedi-ence gives to Him our liberty, our memory, and our very under-standing. What more" have we that we can give? And this giving is the most perfect charity: if you love me,. keep my commandments. Yet we give them in such simple, often almost commonplace, ways: doing what we are told, be it great or small, be it important or un: important, be it hard or easy. Nevertheless, if we do gi.ve our whole selves to Him in this simplicity of obedience, be sure that His most faithful charity does stay~ with us. Gradually He ta.kes us all: our remnants of self-contentment, our rags of pride, our dirtiness of devious self-seeking; of all these and suchlike His faithful charity gradually strips us: a pain at once and yet a joy, He is meek and humble of heart, even in His purifying of us to make us more fit to share with Him in His unutterably pure sacrifice to God. ,,He fills us with His own love of His Father. He gives us sometimes to feel something of that. joy with which He went to His Father. He allows us sometimes to see that His saving work goes on, even thrbugh me, even through me: but yet not through me, only through Him, and I spoil it, and yet He does not let me Spoil it quite, because it is truly He who obeys in me, and His obeying is of infinite love, even God's own love, The mystery of obedience: it is the mystery °of Christ; the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, in whom all is one, even to the blessedness qf giving of the WhOle and yet" receiving, of the Whole". And yet, it is quite simple: "If you love me, keep my command-_ ments. BERNARD LEEMING To conclude, then: ! 1. Obedience is a good in itself, and not for any utilitarian purpose, because obedience in itself unites me to God; and unity with God is an end in itself. 2. Obedience reflects the unity of Christ with His Father and reflects the divine life in Him. So it does likewise in me. 3. It is through obedience, as such, and not through human advantages secured by obedience, that Christ redeemed us. It is through obedience that we share His redeeming mission, share His power to save souls. 4. Progress in obedience means progress in union with Christ and means, too, greater accomplishment in our redemptive union with Him. With Christ we are co-workers in redemption; but that co-working (s, first and middle and last, union in His obedience. 5. Conkequently, let us pray for opportunities of obedience: that we may do each task because God commands it, that we may find our love and our life in doing His will. If the commands are simple, thank God; if they are difficult--perhaps removal from an office, perhaps subordination to an uncongenial senior--thank God more, for what else" are we for but to obey? SUMMER SESSIONS The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Pennsylvania (a three-year summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for siste.rs), will be held this year August 20-31. This is the first year in the triennial course. The'course in canon law is given by the Reverend 3osepb F. Gallen, S.2'., that in ascetical theology by the Reverend Daniel 2. M. Callahan, S.2., both of Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The registration is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors, general and provincial officials, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to the Reverend doseph F. Gallen, S.2., Woodstock College, Woodstock, Md. Gonzaga University offers three summer institutes for religious women only. These institutes were inspired by the recent emphasis on the religious formation of sisters. The topics and dates for the institutes are: moral direction for others~ dune 19-30; understanding human nature, 2'uly 2-13; personal holiness, 2.uly 16-27. Gonzaga also offers two institutes for priests only; one on sacred eloquence, the other on-the psychology of the adolescent. For further information write to the Reverend Leo 2". Robinson, S.3., Gonzaga University, Spokane 2, Washington. 90 Sist:ers' Ret:reat:s--I I Thomad Dubay, S.M. APPROACH TO SUB3ECT MATTER |N this second article on our sisters' retreat survey, we will discuss I the retreat master's approach to his subject matter. The first of the questions asked the sisters dealt with the technique the re-treat master uses in setting forth his tea.ching. We can convey what is here meant~ in no better way than by, reproducing the question just as it was asked.To avoid needless repetition, we will indicate the sisters' choices together with the statement of the survey question. Which of the following emphases in meditation exposes do you usually prefer? __many quotations from Sacred Scripture . 27 4.0%) __intellectual explanation of doctrine, principles, etc .115 16.9 %) __emotional approach (stress on beautiful images, language, etc.) .o . :'. . 4 .6%) ____combination of first and second . 195 (28.6%) ¯ __combination of first and third . 16 (2.3%) __combination of Second and third . 28 (4.1%) __mixture of all three . 297 (43~.5%) Further comment: (space p.rovided) From this data several conclusions seem unavoidable: 1. Almost none of the sisters (.6%) want stress placed on the emotions alone. 2. The group of sisters who want any notable stress placed on the emotions is decidedly small (7%). This conclusion is reached by combining categories 3, 5, and 6. 3. The vast majority (91.3%) want emphasis placed on solid intellectual content whatever the combination of emphases might be. This con, clusion is obtained by combining groups 2, 4, 5, and 7. 4. A large minority (45.5%) prefer no emotional appeal mixed in with the intellectual. This can be seen by uniting the results from categories 2 and 4. 5. The frequent use~of Sacred Scripture follows the intellectual approach in popularity among the sisters. The comments of the sisters on this problem are both interest-ing and enlightening. All three, but the emotional element ought to be relatively small. If the intellectual explanation is ignored, women's piety tends to becom~ soft, enervated, spineless. A thought-provoking, solid presentation with enough of the emotional to make it spiritually palatable appears best to me. 91 THOMAS DUBAY Reuieu~ for Religious I believe that principles for religious life should be based on .Holy Scripture. It is only too late that one finds the beauty and worthwhile passages in Holy Scripture. Personally, I have, found myself living in close union with God by just one passage studied in the New Testament at meditation or spiritual reading. Let's have intellectual explanation. If the priest has the ability to express his ideas well so much the better. The use of Scriptu.re must be an overflow from the medi-tative life of the speaker. There has been too much emphasis on' the emotional approach, so why not get meditation on a solid basis for a change? Intellectual and emotional--I don't mean sentimental. God made things t0 be beautiful. Why not~ talk about those beautiful things? A balanced mixture with no excess in any one. Flowery language annoys more than appeals, I think, Father; however, a correct, flfient style helps much--language from the heart to the heart--without being dramatic or emotional. Mixture of all. A retreat group made up of different personalities, characters, men~ talkies, etc. needs meditation exposds that will to a certain extent reach all. Beautiful thoughts stay in the memory much longer than cold cut and dry ones. Women love beautiful things, why not give them to us? I dislike retreat masters who key their meditations to the emotions. Probably they do this because they have been led to think women prefer this. I do not find the e~otional approach "stands up" under the r~alistic test of a year in the religlous life, Exposition of the Sacred Scriptures appeals to me as most fruitful for meditation. (Texts on Public Life of Christ.) Some emotion has its place, undoubtedly, but I think to be effective it requires the most complete sincerity on the part of the retreat master--otherwise it only makes one uncomfortable. Some emotional stress helps, but I resent having my emotions obviously played upon. Besides, the emotional effect is most iikely to wear off. I would like to add emotional approach in the original meaning of appeal to the emotions or affections, not sentimentality, but with much intellectual and doctrinal support. Never emotional. ,Meditation becomes more fruitful, more satisfying as knowledge, of the Scriptures and doctrine increases. Quotation from Scriptures is fine IF that quotation is explained. Content thoroughly intellectual. Manner of presentation depending on the indi-vidual's broad reading, conversations, and own conviction and realization (we need some variety here!). Structure stemming from Scripture. All three. ~owever, oratory (?), (shouting, whispering, and dramatic pauses) can be omitted in ALL exposes. God forbid! (emotional approach) It is amazing how all three sprinkled in can provide the "oil" for my own "ma-chinery"-- in other wolds, "the Holy Ghost can work through all three approaches to fit the individual--don't limit the approach and.keep 'em happy! and thinking. 92 March, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS "---II IX view of the sisters' observations just given and the numerical data previously noted, it appears that retreat masters should attempt to tailor their techniques accor~ling to the conclusions we have al-ready indicated. AMOUNT OF THEOLOGY We approach now a much-bandied-about question in the circles of sister formation interests: theology. Here we shall view the problem from the vantage point of retreat content, which, of course, touches upon in-service sister f6rmation. The amount of theology desirable in a retreat and the degree in which the sisters un'derstand it were the objects of two questions, the first of which follows: Do you think that the amount of theology ordinarily presented in retreat meditations is __ekcessive '.2__~too little __about right Further comment :__ A notable majority, 486 (72.6 %), of the sisters are well sails-fled with the amount of theology they ordinarily receive in their rdreats, although a sizeable minority, 171 (25.6%), decidedly think they hear too little. A v~ry small gr0ui~, 12 (1.8%), feel that too much theology is presented. The pres~ent writer has the impression from reading the many replies that the more completely educated sisters tend in greater ,.numbers to want more theology in their retreats, whil'e those with less formal training tend in greater nu~nbers to feel satisfied with the status quo. These tendencies are not, however, universal, for there are sister-teachers in college who are satisfied with retreat theology as it stands and some domestic sisters who desire more. The sisters offered the following comments on' their answers: Representative of those who think the theology is excessive: Excessive because of mixed groups of domestic sisters, etc.; otherwise it would be about right. Sisters who think the theology too little: ' Too much "dry" repetition of elementary data on the fundamentals., Religious should be mature and treated as such. o ¯ The more the better. We need it for .our teaching preparations. I have found it of great advantage when theology was much presented, since I only had an elementary education. Superiors should be advised to give books of theology to read to their sisters, if the confessor appr6ves of it, when a sister desires .it. ' 93 THOMAS DUBAY Revieu~ for Religious \ Many sisters are starved for real spiritual meat which can be satisfied only through theology. For many of the sisters retreat time is the only time they get a chance to get some theology. I don't think xve can get too much! Much too little. In some God is hardly mentioned except as author" of this or that law. And the Holy Ghost not so much as heard of. "Religious who think the amount of theology about right: Some tend to overdo it, but I think it appears excessive only if the retreat master uses too many abstract technical terms. I like points of theology brought out since I never studied it as such. Although it is not too little, there could be more as a number of us have the oc-casion to use it daily, Depends on retreat master. I find retreat masters about right; too little usually. Also depends on individual. It differs from a great deal to too little. Perhaps it could be more in most cases. I am satisfied with just the Personality of Christ according to Gospels. Retreat days ought not be a course in theology. If necessary, this should be taken care of otherwise. Some give more, others less, so that on the whole I'd say it evens up about right. As far as I am concerned, a deep theological retreat would be out of place. The mental training of our sisters is too varied to admit of excessive technicality in meditations. Sound, simple explanation of dogma is always welcome. Rather excess than defect. Sisters need solid dogmatic principles always. Do much harm a,mong those taught if they lack principles. Sometimes it is very excessive, but usually about right. However, they often presuppose more theological knowledge on our part than many of us actually possess. For our younger sisters who have had many courses in theology, it may be about right. For our older people and those who because of the work they do, do not continue.their education, it is probably excessive, except where the retreat master takes the trouble to clearly explain his points. Distinguish: amount of theology usually presented--O.K.; skill in bringing out theological implications, e.g., in a meditation on the Passion, without getting dry and classroomish--tbis is rarer. Too much, I believe, would dishearten the less intellectual; too little would make it impossible to form a foundation for the convictions necessary in living a spir-itual life. In coming toa satisfactory conclusion on this whole problem of theology it seems that the retreat m~ister must keep two cardinal points in mind: the sisters' background and his own treatment. March, 1956 SISTERS' RETREAT'S--II Both of these points are so relative that no possible suggestion to be adopted by all retreat masters can be given here. What is excessive for one community (or for one group of. sisters within it) may be too little for a second and about right for a third. Likewise, the same theology in the mouth of one priest may be excessive; in that of another, too little. To adjust the first relative element the retreat master might conduct a careful investigation of the sisters to whom he is going to give his retreat. He could write the provincial superior requesting information on the education and works of the sisters making the retreat and then adapt his methodology accordingly. An appraisal of the second element (the priest's treatment of theology) could be effected by. a simple, one-page questionnaire given by the retreat master to the sisters after his retreats. He could ask whether he had given enough theology, whether his e~planation was simple and clear, and any other question that might contribute to greater efficiency. This information would not benefit the sisters who furnished it, but it could be most helpful in subsequent retreats given by the retreat m~ister. /SISTERS' UNDERSTANDING OF THEOLOGY The sisters were next asked if they thought that the theology that was presented in their retreats was understood. Do you think that the sisters can understand the theology that is presented at least fairly well? __.most of them "do __some do __few do Further comment:__ The breakdown of the answers to this .query is percentage-wise quite close to that of the preceding question. The presence of too many diverse factors, however, prevents us from asserting that this correlation is really significant. For example, on this question some of the sisters answered in an unexpected way. These few indicated that the amount of theology discussed in retreats is too little and then in the present question chose the response ""some do" rather than "most do." Of the sisters ans.wering this question, 517 (76.2%) "think that most understand the theology, 153 (22.5%) that only some grasp it, and 9 (1.3%) that few sisters understand it. For this question it does not seem necessary to divide the sisters' further comments into categories, for their meaning is clear enough as they stand. 95 THOMAS DUBAY I'm not anything when it comes to brain power, but 1 can say. that I understood everything I've heard so far. Most sisters with high school or. colleg'e education can understand. Sisters with elementary education who have grown old with hard manual labor in homes or seminaries cannot. All in my community understand what is presented,, and most do it better than "fairly well.'~ I don't know how other sisters feel about it, but I like it. I think perhaps most of the priests think we have had more theology than we really have had. I certainly feel the sisters would be capable of receiving more if it were given. Before retreat begins we are able rather accurately to predict the outline of the con-ferences, if not .the matti~r of each conference. No challenge! ,. Very poor foundation in theology obtained in thee novitiate. Since most sisters either have a college education or are receiving it, they can under-stand considerably more than is usually offered, i believe. The fact that they might not [understand] would seem to indicate a further need for it. Too often I feel that the retreats are directed prima,rily to the teachers and the others find it difficult to follow ot:' gain much from it. Most' of them do, but not all like it. There is a certain type of nun who likes simple retreats. I do not believe it is a case of sisters failing to understand theology, but a case of retreat masters failing to present theology. Sisters have often gone through retreats without deriving much practical help. All sisters do not have a high inte!ligence and need more explaining. Much depends On the master's ability to make theological truths clear and mean-ingful, A retreat master should conduct the retreat on as high a theological, philosophical,. ascetical, and even mystical a plane as he is able. He should give sisters exactly the same substantial content as he would give to other priests. He need have no fear that they will not be able to understand and live what he himself understands and lives. He should deliver his message however without scholarly verbiage, Latinisms, and all the other .trappings~which' serve to impress rather than to clarify. Through no fault of 'their own, sisters do not have the information to cgpe with this. It is a great m'istake however--and sad to say a common one--to confound a sister's lack of technical theological learning with a lack of intelligence. It is the priest's task to make the technical comprehensible to the non-theologian. This of course demands much more unde~rstanding than does a presentation in the language of the manu'als. Most retreat masters present a very thin spiritual gruel by comparison with what they could give if they. had greater respect for the potentialities of the sisters. ~ The suggestions appended to our discussion of the immediately preceding question would appear to apply to this present problem with equal validity. 96 ( .uesHons and Answers [The following answ,ers are given by°Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.d., professor of canon law at Woodsiock College, W, oodstock, Maryland.] tI,t 9 ' Ih our concjrecjatlon of :sis ers here is a fee c~harcjed for the expenses of the postulancy and noviceshipI. Recently a novice had to have an op-eratlon for append|c,tls. Are tile expenses of th,s operat,on included ~n the fee, or are her parents obl,cjed to pay them? As permitted by can. 570~ § 1, and found at least frequently in all types of religious institutes', the constitutions of nuns and sisters ordinarily d~mand that the ca!ndidate brin~ prescribed clothing and personal effects with her to the postulancy and pay an established sum for the expenses ofthe" Ipostulancy and noviceship. The ex-penses for which payment mawr be demanded are only the ordinary and common expenses of food and clothing. The cost of the medi-cines and similar personal necessities that are usually required may be included under food. The I . ~ordmg of the canon does not permit an exaction for lodging nor for the cost of formation. Much less does it permit that the sum be~ established also for the profit of the institute, as if the,subject wer,e a student of an academy or college. The spirit of the canon is rather that nothing should be demanded if such a polic3r is a practical conform to this spirit at least readiness to grant necessary di Extraordinary expenses, e. g., serious illness, are not inciucJ The institute may rightfully that such expenses be borne b3 cases can readily and frequent'~ dent or inconsiderate to urge possibility~ Superiors should and do the extent of a prompt and cheerful pensationL whether whole or partial. those of :a surgical operation or of a '.d in this fee for ordir~ary expenses. demand, as in the present question, the subject or her parents. However, ~" occur in which it would be impru-his right: If the postulant or novice leaves or is dismissed, the insti}ute is entitled to payment of ex-p~ nses only for the time spe~nt in'the institute. 'Some aspects of the practice should be studied for possible re-vision. The list of things thalt the candidate is to bring with 'her should ,not be so massive as to]dismay a~ay-girl. Perhaps this is male ignorance, but it does not seem efficient to have each candidate bring such objects as towels, sheets, blankets, napkins, and silverware. I should think that uniformity of size and quality would be desir-" QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~iew for Religious able in such objects, that the institute could purchase them at a lower price, and that it would be more efficient to increase the fee somewhat. Despite any ancient authority that may be cited for this and similar.practices, I cannot see how personalized silverware contributes to speed in setting up a large refectory and much less to the supposed simplicity and humility of the religious life. Although extraneous to the present question, I would hold the same for a train on the religious habit, which appears to me to be neither simple nor humble and to be at least dubious in the field of hygiene. The customary practice of requiring that parents continue to supply during .the postulancy and noviceship things such as soap and toothpaste and articles of clothing that have been exhausted or worn out is the deceptive economy of money saved, but with un-noted spirit, ual depreciatiofi. The practice does not manifest a gen-erous spirit on the part of the institute and is not apt to engender a spirit of devotion and loyalty in the subject. It may also be the primaryreason why so many professed secure necessities from ex-terns. The psychology of religious infancy can be more lasting and tenacious than that of human infancy, and the usual correlative of stinginess of superiors is stubborn infidelity of subjects to. the ob-ligations of the vow and the laws on poverty. It is evidently con-trary to the quasi-contract of profession for an institute to exact payment from parents for expenses incurred after profession. Free gifts may be accepted. Expenses for food and clothing should not be charged for any period in which the postulants and novices are 'fully applied to the external works of the institute, e. g., as full-time teachers or nurses. It is conservative to state that few parents of religious are wealthy. Many have exhausted their financial capability in giving a son or daughter a high school education. They have sac-rificed any return on a child's earnings by the entrance into religion. Further exactions should not be imposed on them without at least careful and considerate thought. Finally, it is always to be remem-bered that it is extravagance, not~generosity, that is incompatible with religious poverty. ~0 Is it true that a resident chaplain should never hear ÷he confessions of ~'he sisters of the convent of which he is chaplain'? A chaplain as such is not the ordinary, extrhordinary, nor a sup-plementary confessor of the community. He may be appqinted as such. I believe that many would agree with me .in the statement that it is better not to appoint him as the ordinary" or extraordinary 98 March, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS c~nfessor of the c6mmunity. Anything alSproaching authority, mere friendship, and frequent soc"la 1a1n d b u s'iness contacts can be harmful to the greater efficacy of confeIs s. ion. It is therefore bettek not to ap-point a priest such as a chapla~in or one teaching in the school' with the sisters as their ordinary or extraordinary confessor. Since the confession will be the choice of the individual sister, no such reason exists against his appointment as the special ordinary of a sister or as a supplementary confessor of the convent of which he is,chap-lain. In the latter case he is evidently obliged in virtue of this ap-pointment to hear the confession of any sister 6f the convent who approaches him for confession when there is a just reason and for as long as the just reason continues. There is no question that he will be willing to hear'the confession of a sister in danger of death¯ Inasmuch as he possesses confessioIial jurisdiction for women, he can be both an occasional and a confessor of seriously sick sisters¯ As such he is obviously not to usurp the duty of the ordinary confessor of the community, but he should be willing to hear the confessions of sisters who reasonably request him to do so. He cannot be un-mindful of charity, and his study of moral theology and can6n law should have convinced him that cases of real spiritual necessity occur in all states of life. Furthermore, the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments has emphasized the principle with regard to the members of any type of community: ". what is especial, ly important, that they should have the opportunity to make a confession also shortly before the time of Communion . . . where frequent and daily Com-munion is in vogue, frequent and daily opportunity for sacramental confession, as far as that is possible, must also be afforded¯"' (Bous-caren, Canon Laco Digest, II, 210.) The Sacred Congregation could not have been unaware of the fact that the only priest who is cus-tomarily present in a house of lay religious daily, especially immedi-ately before Mass, is the resident chaplain or the priest who says the daily Mass. II We are a diocesan concjregation. Sometime in the past we had a particular sister who left; if she had not left, we would have tried to dis-miss her. She was a most difficult and peculiar subject. On leavlncj, she threatened to sue us for the work she had done in the concjrecjation. How could we have protected ourselves.'! Relig'ious progression contains two elements, the taking o;f the vows and a quasi-contract between the subject and the institute. One of the elements of this quasi-contract is that the religious gives 99 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERff Review for Religious over all her. labor to the institute. For. this reason can. 580, § 2, logically declares that anything given to a religious for his work belongs to the institute~ With equal logic can. 643, § 1, declares that a professed religious who leaves or is dismissed may not seek com-pensation for services rendered to the institute. This Canon is in-serted in constitutions approved by the Holy See. It is also under-stood that the same dedication of services applies to postulants and novices. The Holy See in approving constltut~ons adds a provision to can. 643 § 1. This provision enacts'that aspirants on their admis-sion to the postulancy must signa civilly valid document in which they dechlre that they will not demand any remuneration for serv-ices given in .the institute if they leave or are dismissed. The Holy. See of late has also been requiring that this declaration be renewed at the time of perpet[~al profession. It is understood that this pro-vision applies also to the postulancy and noviceship and is to be so wprded. To avoid any future difficulty, "such a provision should be made, even if it is not prescribed in the constitutions. The reason for the renewed declaration prescribed at the time of perpetual pro-fession is to make certain that the declaration will be made at a legal age, since .perpetual~ profession cannot be validly made until the day after the twenty-first birthday (c. 573). -12 Is correspondence'with the vicar for religious exempt from the in~pec-tion of superiors? Canon 611 exempts from inspection correspondence °with the local ordinaries to whom the religious is subject in matters in which the religious is subject to the ordinaries. It is probable that this same exemption extends to corresigondence with the priest delegated by l;h.e local ordinary to take care of the affairs of a igarticular community or of some or all communities of the diocese, since in fact such a priest i's handling the matters that appertain to the ordinary. It can be objected that the canon does not say, "to the local ordinary or his delegate," and fi superior could licitly deny that the exemption is proved.' However, it would be the part of prudence at least' not to subject such mail to any inspection. Religious ~bould be instructed not to be quick td write to the Holy See, the cardinal protector, " the apostoli~'deleg~ite; or the local ordinary, or his delegate. Such letters derriand a serious m~itter that cannot be resolved by recourse to one's own religious, suPeriors. °External authorities and dignitaries'should. 100 March, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS n6t,be annoyed by, needless a'nd extraneous correspondence; and do-mestic grievances, especially if purely personfil' or subjective, are to be confined by the family walls. How many "washings must alprlest do of the puHficators, palls, and corporals? Purifactors, palls, and cor~orals~ used in the sacrifice of the Mass are to be washed by. a cleric in major orders ,before being laundered by lay persons. The water of thls first w, ashing is to be poured into the sacrarium. The cleric in m~jor orders is obliged to only one ritual .washing; he may'do three if l~e wisbes to do so. The first washing may not be done even by rehglous women without an indult from the Holy See. The local ordinaries in mission countries have the power of granting such perm~ssmn to religious women. Cf. c. 1306, § 2; Cori3nata, Institutiones Iu~is Canonici, II, n. 887, 2*; J. O'Con-nell, The Celebration of Mas's, 256; Collins, The Church Edi[ice and Its AppOintments, 219-2~: Britt, Church Linens, 32; Murphy, The Sacristan's Manual, 12-13; Winslow, A Cornrnentarg on the Apostolic Faculties, 61. " Does the general ~decree on ~he simplification of the rubrics apply to the Lfffle Office of the ELV.M.? The decree of the Sacred [Congregation of Rites is confined to the rubrics of the Divine Office, and Mass, but from analogy the norms on the beginning and ~nd of the hours nSay be licitly used in both the choral and indivi~tual recitation of the Little Office of the B. V. M. The following, is a summary of the ~.ertinent parts of the decree. In beginnin~ both the pub(ic and private recitation c~f the canoni-cal hours, the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Apostles' Cr~ed are omitted; and the hours begin~ absolutely as follows: Matins from Domine, labia mea aperies; Cc~mpline from Iube, dorone benedicere; all others from Deus, tn adtut~orturn. In both public and private recitation, the canonical hours end as follov~s: Prime with Dom~mus nos benedicat; Complin~ with Benedicat et custodiat; all others,including Matins if recited pri-vately, with Fideliurn anirnae.~ The office ends after Compline with the recitation of the ,custo-mary antiphon of the B. V-. M., which is said here only, and Divinum auxiliurn. The indult and indulgences granted for the recit'ation of QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Sacrosanctae are attached to this same final antiphon 6f the B, V, M. Cf.~ M.'Noir0t, L'Arni du C!erg~, August, 1955, 512, note 2. 15 I wished to send a letter ,÷o ~he superior general, and I believed there was a serious reason why'th~ sehdincj of this letter should hive remained completely unknown to the local superior. How c,oulc~ I have accomplished this without violating our regulations? Correspohden~e with-higher superiors is exempt in virtue of c. 611. Exemption means the right to send and receive determined let-ters without permission, to receive them u~aopened, to send them uninspected, and probably the right to send and receive ttSem com-pletely unknown to the superior. Therefore, a superior is not to open sfich letters; and they are to be sealed before being presented to a s'uperior. The probable right o.f sending and receiving them com-pletely unknown to the superior is founded on the wording of c. 611, which states that exempt letters .are subject to n6 inspection. Article 180 of the Normae of 1901 aflir;ned that th~se letter~ were free of any inspection. It can be argued, at least with probability, that they would be subject to some inspection if they had to be presented to or received by the superior. Ordinarily there will be no special reasons against transmitting these letters sealed through the local superior. However, it should be possible to obtain a stamp unknown'to,the.superior; e." g., by having some stamps in the custody of the local.assistant or another religious. If a subject cannot so ob-tain a ~tam. p and wishes to send an exempt letter free of all inspec-tion,° he may obtain a stamp from other sources. He is to avoid all disedification in such.an act. It is not necessary to go to the ex-treme of having the porter separate all exempted envelopes and hand them immediately to the individual religious. ~16~ Our constifutlons state that the reading at table is to be from a pious book. What is the meaning of a pious book? This article of the constitutions is based, on article 182 of th~ Normae of 1901, which specified that the reading was to be from "some 16ious book." This does not demand that. the .reading be always from~ a ~spiritual book; the interpretatior~.is that the reading should be spiritual or useful. Therefore," the reading mgy be also from su{h book~ as" ecclesiastical histories, histories of'religious in-stitutes, e~clesiastical biog~aphies,'etc.,, and, also from instructive and hppropridte secular works. Cf. Battandie'r, Guide Canonique, n. 303. 102 90o! Reviews [All material for this department should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College. West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST AS THE BASIC PRINCIPLE OF SPIRITUAL,LIFE. By F~iedr[ch Jurcjensmeler. Translafed by Harrier G. Sfrauss. Pp. 379. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1954. $5.00. If ever there was a work of love; it is Father Jurgensmeier's The Mystical Bod~l of Christ. This is flue not ~nly of its subject matter but also of its authorship" an4 translation. The author, rector of the Archiepisocpal Seminary of Paderborn from 1938 to 1946 and martyr of necessary overwork, wrote only this one book, spending years on it and seemingly integrating his whole life, thought, and reading in it. The translator, Harriet G. Strauss, a convert, worked intermittently for five years under 'the direction of Provost Heinrich Seidler of Dresden putting the book into English. The first part of the book. is a comprehensive synthesis df Pauline "texts concerning the Mystical Body, a synthesis which both leads "the reader to the conclusion that the living union with Christ in the MysticalBody is the core of St. Paul's message and makes him anx-ious to read through the Epistles of St. Pa'ul to discover for himself ,their.wealth ~of meaning~ This section is followed' by a difficult dogmatic_ exposition demonstrating that whether one traces the dogmatic path leading from man to God or the one leading from ¯ God through grace to man, one nevertheless ends up at the same place, union with Christ in the Mystical Body. Thus the Mystical Body dogma, because of its central and fundamental position in dogmatic theology, ,is also the basic prificiple for the ascetical life. The last and most rewarding part of the book shows how the Mystical Body doctrine, 'as the fundamental principle of the as-cetical life, not only balances the roles of grace and human effort in" asceticism, but centers attention on Christ rather than on peripheral matters. It does this because it clearly-shows union with Christ as the center and source of all spiritual life; because it focuses atten-tion on the'sacraments as forces integrating us into the structure of the~Mystical Body of Christ and uniting us more closely with Him; because it regulates private devotion and'the liturgy,: and co-ordinates them into .the sacrificial action of Christ the High Priest;- because without neglecting the moral virtues it emphasizes the the- 103 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Retigiou~ ological as uniting with Christ, because it reveals suffering as the finest living of Christ's life and charity as the chief duty in one united with Christ; because it spotlights the fact that each one of us, no matter how insignificant, has a unique and important personal work to accomplish' in Christ's Mystical Body. ° If there are three strata of knowledge in theology, the topmost for the experts, the middle for eager students, and the lowermost for the average Catholic, then Father 3urgensmeier's work would be on the second level sinc,e it demands concentration and study. The translator-edftor is to be lauded for her work in bringing this book into conformity with Pius XII's~M~stici Corporis, but sh~ has not succeeded in all respects. For example, Father Jurgensmeier's errors concerning the extent of and conditions for incorporation in the Mystical Body, though removed in mor.e evident passages, still persist in less noti.ceable ones. Nor are the quotations from M~stici Corporis always apt in selection and textual integration. Father Jurgensmeier himself has complicated the task of the translator by using the same terms in two senses, sdmetimes within the same sen-tence, wiihout warning the reader. Further, in praiseworthily en-deavoring to clarify the meaning of that special mystical identifica- 'tion with \Christ, he has ambiguously described it as a personal character. But these,qualifications, though meant as a warning of caution too the reader, are not intended as derogatory to this magnificent work. Rather it should be considered, as Archbishop Cushing notes in the Foreword, o"a spiritual masterpiece" which can be reread and reread always with g~eater profit. DAVID d. HASSEL, S.J. I AM A DAUGHTER OF THE CHURCH. A Practical Synthesis of Car-mellfe Splrifuality. Volume II. By P. Marie-Eucjane, O.C.D. Trans-la÷e~: l by SMer M. Verda Clare,: C.S.C. Pp. 667. Fides Publishers, Chicacjo 10, Illinois. 19SS. $6.75. In 1953 Fides Publishers produced the first part of a synthesis of the teachings of St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross (with examples from the life of the Little Flower) under the title 1 Want to See God. The present work brings to a close this bril-liant and compendious study, explaining as it does the; soul's prog-ress from the beginning of supernatural contemplation in the fourth" of the Teresan.mansions to ~the~ ultimate union °with God in the seventh, .104 March, "1956 ." BOOK REVIEWS Anyone interested in the various stages of supernatural and mystical prayer will find this work of great assistance. The author's genius for synthesis--abundant quotations woven together "with commentary into an orderly development--is evident as he treats in turn supernatural recollection and the prayer of quiet, contem-plative dryness, the dark night of sense, union of the will, the dark night of the spirit, and, finally, transforming union of the soul with God in perfect love. His deft reconciling of apparent divergences in the doctrines of St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross is especially notable. Two short sections of the book stand out significantly for souls whose vocation is to be apostles in the modern world, whether or not God has raised them to the higher mansions. The first is Chap-ter X of Part IV, "The Mystery of the Church" (pp. 186-201). Upon reaching a state of union of the will with God (fifth man-sion), Teresa says that the soul is seized with an intense concern for the salvation of other souls. Its eyes are opened to thee.mission it must fulfill in' the Mystical Body. This is what Fath'er Marie- Eugene terms the soul's "~iscovery of the Church." At this point, tvhaetnio, nh eto s kbeet cehffeesc atend e bxyc e~lltehnet usnuimtimnga royf oafll t mhee dni vtoin Ce hprliasnt, oinf sthale-. Mystical Body--a program which dominated' St. Paul's thinking, and which he called the mystery. In Chapter IX of Part V, "The Saint in the Whole Christ" (pp. 606-62), the author b.egins by stressing the exalted and im-perious demands the lov~ of God makes on the soul raised to the sixth and seventh mansions to help in saving other souls. Then in a section'which is almost wholly original, though strictly in har-mony with Teresan spirituality, Father Marie;Eugene discusses the place of contemplation in the lives of modern apostles. It is this section of the book which, he says in the introduction, "he was tempted toe expand. What he has written is most valuable; we may hope that he is able to develop his ideas in their fullness in a future work., Among other sections which may attract special interest., are those on extraordin.ary.favor~ (pp. 243-97), which a.mounts to,a concise treatise on the~subject, and the. lengthy explanation of the dark night of the spirit (pp. 300-506): The publisher .has rendered a distinct .service to American read-ers by presenting these books in English, The typography is well chosen (save, I would say, for the title page and table of contents). 105. BOOK REVIEWS Review [or Religious A handy summary of Teresan spirituality, according to, the char-acteristics of the seven mansions, is printed inside the front cover. The inclusion of a combined index for both volumes would have enhanced the book's value even more. A final word of congratulation must be reserved for the trans-lator, who has produced as smoo.th and' forceful a translation as if the work had been written originally in English. May she turn her hand to other works where less skilled translators" fail to tread! --THEODORE W. WALTERS, TRUE MORALITY AND ITS COUNTERFEITS.' A Critical Analysis of Ex-is÷en÷ialisfic E÷hics. By Diefrlch yon Hildebrand wi÷h Alice Jourdaln. Pp. 179. David McKay Co., Inc., New York. 195S. $3.00. This book, after a brief introduction in which the author clearly states his object and method, contains nine chapters dealing mostly with "circumstance ethics." An appendix, "Allocution du St. P~re d la Fdd~ration. Mondiale des deunessbs "F~minines Catboliques'" (April, 1952) forms the conclusion. As far as can be seen, the book is the work of Von Hildebrand alone. We have ~here a vigor-ous attack both on "situa~tion or circumstances ethics" as well as on "sin m~rsticism." The former, already analyzed and condemned by the Pope in the allocution above referred to, is subjected to a ldnger analysis here. The results are the same--a ringing condem-nation of "situation ethics." The author grants the complexity ~of the individual moral situation, details the pertinent f~ctors'at play therein, but insists with the Pope upon the primacy of universal moral laws. Th~ exaggerations, even the unchristianity, of "~itu-ation ethics" is shown.- The final chapter is a positive statement of Christian ethics. Of more interest and originality, perhaps, are the parts which deal with "sin mysticism," a phrase taken from the German the-ologian, K. Rahner, S.d. This is a.kind of lived .application of some of the principles of "situa~tion ethics" manifested especially in liter-ature. It con'sists in the exaltation'of the tragic~ sinner over the self-righteous, mediocre, or merely conyentionally moral man. Von Hildebrand fi, nds traces of this tendency, in varying~ degress~ in' Catholic writers like Mauriac, Greene, Gertriad~ yon Le Fort and others. Since these Catholic authors~ are read by our students on the college level, at least, teachers of literature will want to read the indictment. Von Hildebrand is certainly not unsympathetic 1.06 March, 1956 ' " BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS towards these writers; he admits~ what he considers the truth they contain, recalls several necessary dtstlnctlons from Catholic ethics, but, in the end, is driven to condemn this tendency in them. --JAMES d. DOYLE, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS )kVE MARIA PRESS, Notre Dame, Indiana. Spirituality for: Postulate, NoOitiate, SchoIasticate, l~y Jar~es F. McElhone, C.S.C., is a book on the spiritual life written ex-plicitly fo~ beginners. It !is not a complete treatise on the religious life but alms to lay a solid foundation for such a life. It fills a need long felt by directors of young religious. Pp. 196. $3.00. THE B'RUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, WiSconsin. Helps and Hindrances to Perfection, by Thomas J. Higgins, S.J., is a sequel to the author's Perfection Is.for You. The readers for whom it is intended'are all ~he members of the Mystical Body of Christ, for each is bound to tend toward perfection. All can find in these pages help and inspiration. Houses where closed lay re-treats are conducted would do well to add both these volumes to the r~treatants library: .Pp. 258.$4.50. CARMELITE THIRD ORDER PRESS, 6415 Woodlawn Ave., Chicago 37, Ill. Mary and the Saints of Carmel, By-Reverend Valentine L. Boyle, O.Carm. This is a book of meditations on the feasts of our Lady and the saints of the Carmelite Order. Each meditation con-sists of a hundred-word biographical sketch, a one-sentence appli-cation, and the prayer of the-saint from the Carmelite missal. It is profusely illustrated in black and white. Pp. 185. $1.50. Carmel--Mary's Own. A History of the Carmelite Order. Part I. The Elian Origin o? Carmel. Pp. 64, 25c. Part II. The Golden Age of Car~el. Pp. 70. 25c. Part III. Carmel in Modern Times. Pp. 68. 25c. CLONMORE AND REYNOLDS, LTD., 29 Kildare St., Dublin. The Spiritual Teacl~ing of Venerable Francis Libermann. By Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Founders of religious orders and con-gregations receive many. special graces from God to enable them to guide wisely in the paths of perfection those ,whom God gives them as followers. That is why the writings of. such founders are esteemed and treasured. The Venerable Francis Libermann, founder. 107 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious of the Congregations of the Holy 'Ghost and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, left his followers many valuable documents. Father Kelly has put these in the framework of a treatise on the spiritual life and so has made the wise counsels of the founder of his congrega-tion available to a wider circle of readers. Pp. 201. 13/-. DAUGHTERS OF SAINT PAUL, Old Lake Shore Road, Derby," N. Y. In The Daily Gospel we bare a harmonization of the four G~s-pels due essentially to Father Szczepanski, S.J. A portion of the Gospel is presented for each day of the year. Each selection is fol-lowed by a pertinent quotation from the fathers of the Church and a reflection. The reflections were compiled by John E. Robaldo, S.S.P. The text of the Gospels is the Confraternity version. Keep this book hand~; on your desk and nourish your soul with the Words of Life. Pp. 495. Paper $3.00. Cloth $4.00. Bible Stories for Children. Written and illustrated by the Daughters of' St. Paul. The book contains twenty-six stories from the Old Testament and fifty from the New. Each story is illus-trated with a full page attractive picture in four colors. Pp. 165. Soft cover $1.75. Cloth $3.00. St. Paul Catechism of Christian Doctrine. Prepared and illus-trated by the Daughters of St. Paul. There are six books in the set, one for each grade from one to six. They are richly illustrated in four colors. "Each lesson is divided into three parts: Catechism, Sacred Scripture, and Liturgy. Single copies retail for from 30 to 60 cents. DESCLEE COMPANY, INC., 280 Broadway, New York 7. A Short Histoql of Philosophg. By F. J. Thonnard, A.A. Translated by Edward A. Maziarz, C.PP.S. This is an excellent philosophical presentation of the major trends, schools, and leaders of Western philosophic thought. The intrinsic connection between the presuppositions, basic principles, and doctrines of the major philosohers is emphasized and their thought is briefly evaluated in" the light of Thomistic principles. The. work has excellent bibli-ographies and a valuable doctrinal table. This Efiglish translation, though faulty, will be welcome. Pp. 1074. $6.50. DOYLE AND FINEGAN, Collegeville, Minnesota. The-Simplilication of the Rubrics. Text of the Decree toitb Commentar~.1. By Annibale Bugnini, C.M. Translated by Leonard J. Doyle.~ Father Bugnini's commentary is by far the best that 108 March, 1956 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS has appeared so far and will do much to give a better understanding of the new rubrics. Pp. 131. $1.50. Order for Office and Mass, 1956. This is an English Ordo written for those who say the Divine Office in Engllsb. Pp. 115. $1.25. FELICIAN SISTERS, 600 Doat .St., Buffalo, N. Y. Magnigcat. A Centennial Record of the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Felix. The appearance of this book announces the happy completion of a century of growth and progress of the Felician sisters. All religious will find this book both interesting and in-spiring. To learn what others have done and are doing for the love of God is an external grace which stimulates to greater and more generous efforts in the following of Christ. It is a .valuable his-torical do.cument that every Catholic library should have. Pp. 155. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Religio Religiosi. By Aidan Cardinal Gasquet, O.S.B. Though published in England in 1923, this little volume is not very well known in this country; and it should be better known. If all who have to face the problem of a choice of a state in life 'would read this book, vocations to the religious life would be multiplied. Pp. 120. $2.50. True Christmas Spirit. By Reverend Edward J. Sutfin. Here is a °book on the Christmas liturgy written at the request of edu-cators to assist them in teaching liturgy to children. It draws on the treasury of world literature and custom. Religious devoted to teaching will find this book most helpful. Pp. 154. $3,00. The Help of His Grace. The Storg of a Benedictine Sister. By Sister Jean Marie, O.S.B. This booklet is a new addition to vo-cational literature. Girls who wish to decide whether they have a vocation to the Benedictine way of life will find it most helpful. Pp. 108. $.50. ~ B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. The Names of Christ. By Louis of Leon, O.S.A. Translated by Edward J. Schuster. The author of this book was a professor of the University of Salamanca and a contemporary of St. Teresa of Avila and of St. John of the Cross. His spiritual doctrine is well summed up in the present volume. It is the sixth in the Cross .and Crown Series of Spirituality. Pp. 315. $4.75. The Church Teaches. Documents of the Church in English 109 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Reoiew [or Religious Translation. By the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Mar~;s, Kansas. The gratifying growth of the departments of religion in our-Catholic colleges and universities makes bool~s like the pres.ent volume a necessity. The argument from tradition will always be a major argument in all religious questions. Hence the necessity of translating the documents enshrining this tradition into English, since a knowledge of Latin and Greek can no longer be presupposed in tb~ students of religion. This book is a "must" for teachers of "rel'igion. Pp. 400. $5.75. :" Introduction to the Philosoph~t of Animate Nature. By Henry J. Koren, C.S.Sp. Teachers of philosophy will welcome this ne~i addition to Catholic texts on rational psychology. There is more 'than enough material for a three-hour one-semester course. An ap-pendix .contain~ a list of review questions and suggested readings. Pp. 341. $4.75. An Introduction to the Science of Metapbgsics. By Henry J. Koren, C.S.Sp. This clear, understandable, and orderly textbook, giving the traditional Thomistic doctrine of being, is divided into two parts: being in general (,its nature, its transcendental properties and its limitation), and finite being (its nature and multiplication, its categories, and its causes). For a three-hour one-semester course some selection of material will be necessary. Pp. 341. $4.75. THI~ NI~WMAN IaRI~SS, Westminster, .Ma'ryland. An Hour with Jesus. Meditations for Religious. By Abbe Gaston Courtois. Translated by 'Sister Helen Madeleine, S.N.D. Religious women whose work is education will find enlightenment, encouragement, and many practical, suggestions in this volume. Used as an aid for meditation, the book should do much to advance its users in. the art of mental prayer. Pp. 161. $3.00. :'"Cleanse mg Heart. Meditations on .the Sunda~t Gospels. By Vincerit P. McCorry, S.J. Readers of America will be familiar with Father McCorry's liturgical column "The Word." They will be pleased that one year's offerings have been given a more permanent form in the present volume. Pp. 179. $2.75. Graceful Living. A Course in the Appreciation of the Sacra-ments. By John Fearon, O.P. This is a book on the theology of the sacraments written in a popular vein to catch the interest of the ordinary Catholic and so help him to a fuller Catholic life. It was a selection of the Spiritual Book Associates. Pp. 160. $2.50. Leauen of Holiness. Conferences for Religious. By Reverend 110 March, 1956 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Charles Hugo Doyle. Those who have read Father Doyle's first book of conferences for religious, In Pursuit of Perfection, will find in this volume the same freshness of style and vigor of presentation. Pp. 242. $3.50. Meditations Before Mass. By Romano Guardini. Translated by Elinor C. Briefs. Despite the title, this is not a book of medi-tations. It is rather a collection of conferences given originally before Mass to enable the congregation to enter fully into the divine action. Its purpose is to teach a greater appreciation of and participation in the holy sacrifice. Pp. 203'. $3.00. THE PRIORY PRESS, Asbury Road, Dubuque, Iowa. Beginnings: Genesis and Modern Science. By Charles Hauret. Translated and adapted from the 4th French edition by E. P. Em-mans, O.P. and S.S.Prolyta. There can be no conflict between faith and science since God is the author of both. Yet there may be ap-parent conflict. Father Hauret, a scientist in his own right, squarely faces the problems posed by the account of creation in the first three chapters of Genesis and the findings of modern science. If you teach religion, this is a book you should read. You will learn much about the Sacred Scriptures as well as about modern science, and you will be in a position to give satisfactory answers to modern doubters. Pp. 304. $3.25. SAINT CHARLES SEMINARY, 209 Flagg Place, Staten Island 4, N. Y. Father to the Immigrants. dohn Baptist Scalabrini, Bishop of Piacenza. By Icilio Felici. Translated by Carol della Chiesa. On June 1, 1905, John Baptist Scalabrini, Bishop of Piacenza died a holy death. He was a remarkable man, and his memory is honored particularly for his heroic labors in behalf of Italian immigrants in both Americas. He came to their aid by founding the Society of St. Raphael, a lay organization, to alleviate their material wants; by founding a society of missionary priests, now popularly known as the Scalabrinian fathers, to care for their spiritual needs; by starting a congregation of sisters to care for the orphaned and the sick among them. It. was be who came to" the rescue of the Mis-sionary Zelatrices of the Sacred Heart, when it seemed that they must disband, and interested them in work for immigrants. It was he too who urged Mother Cabrini to choose America rather than the Orient for bet field of labors. This is the first full-length bi-ography in English of this saintly bishop, a milestone on the way to his beatification. Pp. 248. $3.00. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS SAINT PAUL PUBLICATIONS, 2187 Victory Blvd., Staten Island 14, N. Y. The Perennial Order by Martin Versfeld is a book on Catholic philosophy which is not a textbook. It will be read with interest and profit even by those who have had the usual courses in philo-sophy, for it deals with many topics not mentioned in the conven-tional courses. It is an apostolic book in the sense that it is written also for non-Catholics. It should do much to answer many an in-tellectual difficulty of the sincere inquirer and so prepare the way for conversion. Pp. 250. $3.00. SHEED AND WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3. Su)ift Victory. Essays on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit. By Walter Farrell, O.P. and Dominic Hughes, O.P. It is perhaps no exaggeration to say that most Catholics know so little of the gifts of the Hoiy Ghost that they cannot even name them all. The reason possibly is that they are not something to strive for, but something freely granted to those who love God. Every Catholic should know more about these treasures which are his. Pp. 211. $3.25. In Soft Garments. A Collection of Oxford Conferences. By Ronatd A. Knox. This collection was first published in 1942. The present reprint is in response to popular demand. Pp. 214. $3.00. TEMPLEGATE, Springfield, Illinois. Loue of Our Neighbor. Edited by Albert Ple, O.P. Translated by Donald Attwater and R. F. Trevett. This book is the report of a symposium on charity in which this virtue was dealt with from many angles. Part one deals with charity and Revelation. Part two treats of the theology of this virtue. Part three has such chapters as "A Philosophy of Relation to Others," "Psychoanalysis and Love of One's Neighbors," "Love of Our Neighbor and the Economics of Giving." Part four consists of an outline of what a complete treatise on the love of our neighbor must be if it is ever to be written. Pp. 182. $3.95. CATHOLIC ALMANAC, 1956 The 1956 National Catholic Almanac, a very valuable reference book, is now available at the St. Anthony Guild Press, 508 Marshall St., Paterson, New Jersey. Cloth, $2.50; paper, $2.00. OUR CONTRIBUTORS MOTHER MARY ELEANOR teaches at Rosemont College, Rosemont, Penn-sylvania. BERNARD LEEMING is a professor of theology at Heythrop College, Oxon, England. THOMAS DUBAY teaches theology and homiletics at Marist College, Washington, D. C. 112 InJ:orma!:ion [or Subscribers BUSINESS OFFICE ADDRESS: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas. SEND ALL RENEWALS AND SUBSCRIPTIONS TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas. NOTICES OF EXPIRATION have been mailed to all sub-scribers whose subscriptions expired with Jan., 1956. We hope that those who have not yet done so may find it convenient to renew at an early date. When renewing please return the postal-card notice sent to you. It is of great assistance to us in making prompt and ac-curate identification of renewals. EARLY RENEWAL of subscriptions enables us to prepare our ~-~.mailing list for tl~ next issue and avoids delays incurred by later additional mailings. Send all renewals and subscriptions to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, and observe carefully the following instructions. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE: United States and Possessions, and Canada, $3.00. All other countries, $3.35. Single copie~ 50 cents each in United States and Possessions, and Canada. All other countries 60 cents each. PAYMENTS: All checks and money orders should be made out to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, and should accompany orders for sub-scriptions, Money orders should be made payable by the Post at Topeka, Kansas. Always indicate whether your remittance is intended" for a New or a,Renewa! subscription. Orders and remittances should be mailed at least 30 days prior to beginning ~dates of su.bscriptions. CANADIAN., AND FOREIGN SUBSCRIBERS: If you pay us by Check, please ha~e it'drawn on a United States bank. The clearance charges, are such', that we cannot afford to accept a check drawn on a bank in your own country. CHANGES OF fi-DDRESS: We need both the OLD and the NEW addresses. If possible give us the former address exactly as it appears on the wrapper of your last copy with your subscripti6n number and postal zone number. MAILING DATES: January 15, March 15, May 15, July 15, September 15, and November 15. Should your copy be late, please inquire of your postmaster and wait a reasonable time before writing to us. All copies are mailed under a Return Postage Guarantee and, if not delivered, should in time be returned to us. NOTICE: Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. We have no solicitors in the field.