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Issue 68.3 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; ~Spiritu.a~ Growth ,~. --.,,Practicall~ Wisdom'iQ-UAoRFERLY 68.3 2009 - " Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2009 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Ca~ho~c ~piri~uah~y Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis ~nd Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.3 2009 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 consecrated life stories. ~'~ I! The Impact of Women Religious on the Church of New York Regina Bechde SO, two centuries after New York became a large suffragan diocese of Baltimore, recounts its history-- which, as in dioceses everywhere, is inseparable from stories of its women religious. Looking for what was really going on, she finds the faith-meaning underneath the sisters' social and ecclesial achievements. 226 250 261 ignatian prayer Communal Examen Philip Shano SJ suggests ~ way of adapting the general examen found in the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises to a communal examen that can help the community as a group to attend to its daily life in a prayerful w~y. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Louis M. Savary re-examine.s how Ignatius's Fourth Week contemplation asks us to observe closely the way God loves us and to put into practice our love of God and the rest of creation in a similarly unconditional .and generous way. A Prayer Response Review for Religious 276 289 298 spiritual growth Job's Difficult Transformation Marian Maskulak CPS, making grateful use of Stephen Mitchell's The Book of Job, explores the spiritual changes Job undergoes and suggests their relevance to ourselves. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection The Central Paradox of John of the Cross James W. Kinn presents and, like a good teacher, emphasizes John's teaching for proficient beginners. Connecting through Prayer John H. Zupez SJ suggests a way of praying that gives us a greater sense of connectedness to God and to one another in our lives. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 3O6 313 practical wisdom When Pragmatists Become Mystics Rabbi Allen S. Mailer shares a variety of Hassidic wisdom sayings for our inspiration and for the deepening of our faith. AGame You Should Not Play Birney Dibble MD discusses the candor that people often find difficult around terminally ill patients. departments 318 Scripture Scope: Understanding the Psalms 323 Reviews 22 7 68.3 2009 prisms 228 Tsis a landmark issue of Review for Religious. You as reader will note that there is no Canonical Counsel article. From the first volume of our journal in January 1942 there was a department called Questions and Answers that dealt primarily with canon law issues for men and women liv-ing consecrated or religious life. The writer of this department was not identified. Likely the editor was the canon lawyer Father Adam C. Ellis SJ, one of the three founding editors. In volume 14 (September 1955) we find the first acknowledgment of an author for the Questions and Answers department. "The fol-lowing answers are given by Father Joseph E Gallen SJ, professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland." As a matter of fact, it seems that Father Gallen had already been doing the work in a couple of preceding issues. He was also a consistent contributor of articles dealing with canon law perspectives or with the implications of recently issued Roman documents throughout the decades from 1950 to 2000. In volume 44 (January 1985) Father Richard A. Hill sJ, professor of canon law at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, began writ-ing the newly titled Canonical Counsel arti-cle. After five years as contributing editor for Canonical Counsel, Father Hill asked to be relieved because of his responsibilities at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley and at the University of San Francisco. Review for Religious In volume 49 (July/August 1990) Sister Elizabeth McDonough OP became our Canonical Counsel editor. From that issue up to our past issue (68.2, 2009) she has contributed one hundred articles dealing with all aspects of the 1983 Code of Canon Law dealing with conse-crated or religious life. She literally has written a valuable commentary on the Code for all of us living consecrated life. Sister Elizabeth McDonough believes that she has completed her task, and has said she would appreciate having more time for her teaching and other writing. As of this issue, then, we have no department of Questions and Answers or its successor Canonical Counsel. As edi-tor, I hope that we will have occasional articles to update us on canonical issues as they may arise. I express my deep gratitude to Sister Elizabeth McDonough for her masterful contribution to religious life through this journal. Besides the fact that she writes clearly and concisely, I as editor was especially apprecia-tive at how prompt she was to meet every deadline over this twenty-year period. It is our intention that Review for Religious will publish the compilation of McDonough's Canonical Counsel articles as a readable disc/book in the fall of 2009. We intend that the disc-form of the book will allow for valuable and easy reference. Without trying to replace Canonical Counsel as a department, my advisory board encourages me and the staff to consider regular contributions in the liturgical area, especially with the revision of the missal, and also regarding the continuing development of new forms of religious life and affiliations. So the journal hopes to keep contributing to our living of religious life and our sharing it with the wider church. David L. Fleming SJ 229 68.3 2009 REGINA BECHTLE The Impact of Women Religious on the Church of New York consecrated life stories On a spring day in 2008, I stood in the majes-tic St. Patrick's Cathedral amid representatives of the 116 congregations of women religious serving in the archdiocese of New York. In the processional hymn, Benedictine Sister Delores Dufner's "Sing a New Church," we sang "summoned by the God who made us, rich in our diversity, gathered in the name of Jesus, richer still in unity." These words of struggle, promise, and affirmation can only hint the reality of women religious in dioceses all through the United States. Our story is indeed a rich and diverse one, focused in a grand unity.! The year 2008 marks the bicentennial of the establishment of four dioceses--New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Bardstown (Kentucky)--and Baltimore's designation as an archdiocese. The church in New York serves Regina Bechtle SC is Charism Resource Director for the Sisters of Charity of New York; 6301 Riverdale Avenue; Bronx, New York 10471. R~iew for Religious two and a half million Catholics in ten counties, from the urban density of Manhattan and the Bronx, to an underserved rural population in the north. The story of this diocese, like dioceses everywhere, is inseparable from the story of its women religious.2 The bicentennial invited us all to reimagine our story within the story of larger social and ecclesial movements, movements we helped shape and were shaped by. Let me suggest an image. Our seminary's excellent library holds many books about religious congregations and provinces connected with this archdiocese. Some use the pious, purple prose of the glory days, others pack a more modern, journalistic punch. But they all tell how communities came here, what needs confronted them, and what they did about those needs. Imagine all those volumes on the shelves, flanked by histories of the church in this country and region, bolstered by studies of the many immigrants who came here and by surveys on education, public health, child care, human services, pastoral ministry, catechesis, lay leadership, spiritual for-marion, race relations, community development, advo-cacy and action for peace and justice, environmental concerns, and global awareness. Now imagine all those volumes in conversation with one another, comparing, connecting, cross-referencing. Only an eavesdropper on all of those conversations could write the full story of women religious, the meta-story that cries out to be told in each diocese and in the country at large. My purpose here is modest. I speak not as an histo-rian but as a theologian and spiritual director who tries to listen both to a person's story and to the story under-neath the story. I listen to hear what is "happening" and what is "really going on." I propose to apply those questions to the stories of women religious in this and, 231 68.3 2009 Bechtle ¯ The Impaa of Women Religious in New York mutatis mutandis, other dioceses.3 What was happening during those many years? And what was "really going on"? In other words, how was God at work in it? How do we measure impact? I suggest we measure',impact by the tributes of a socie : 232 Measuring Impact First, a word about the meaning of "impact." For New Yorkers, the searing memory of 11 September 2001, of giant planes crashing into the World Trade Center's towers, forever colors the word's meaning. Yet over its lifetime this city, like most others, has absorbed the impact of many other traumatic events--epidem-ics from yellow fever, cholera, and influenza to HIV/AIDS; fires and floods; riots and gang wars; economic upheavals and finan-cial despair; wartime anxiety and loss on the home front. How do we measure impact? In New York City, where real estate rules and media coverage makes you or breaks you, some judge impact in terms of stone and steel, of buildings constructed, renovated, retrofitted. Some measure impact by best sellers and column inches, by prime-time coverage and website hits. Others mea-sure impact in the flesh-and-blood realities of bodies blessed and bandaged, minds mentored, hearts healed, spirits sustained. Impact is about relatonships as much as headlines. I suggest we measure impact by the trib-utes of a society, like the tens of thousands who lined the streets in 1896 to honor the passing of Sister of Charity Mary Irene Fitzgibbon, founder of the New York Foundling and conscience of a city.* Review for Religious Impact is measured in the halls of Congress by Sister Patricia Cruise SC and Sister Mary Rose McGeady DC testifying about the runaway youth served by Covenant House; by the words of Sisters Patricia Wolf RSM, Regina Murphy SC, and Arlene Flaherty OP, whose advocacy on behalf of justice in shareholder meetings and public forums has heralded the gospel in our day; by the lumi-nous theological writings of Sister Elizabeth Johnson csJ; by Sister Theresa Kane RSM calling in 1979 on Pope John Paul II to hear the desire of women to participate fully in the church; and by the gunshots that murdered Maryknoll Sisters Maura Clarke MM and Ita Ford MM in 1980 in El Salvador and Sister Barbara Ford SC in 2001 in Guatemala; by the vision of Mother Irene Gill OSU, who in 1904 began the College of New Rochelle, the first Catholic college for women in New York State, and Mother Buder RSHM, who opened Marymount College in Tarrytown in 1907; by the steadfast peace witness of women like Sister Anne Montgomery RSCJ and Sister Eileen Storey SC in Iraq and the West Bank. Even this hard-to-impress city recognizes the impact of these exceptional women. Yet they would be the first to protest that the vast majority of their sisters, the thousands of women religious who have served the people of New York, have lived equally extraordinary lives, only in a less public sphere. The everyday impact of their faithfulness has been felt for generations by families, neighborhoods, parishes, and institutions that never make the headlines. What Was Happening? The Catholic historian Gary Macy describes history as "the stories that we tell ourselves so that we know better how we got to be who we are.''5 Before I address what was happening, let me make a few introductory 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The lmpaa of Women Religious in New York remarks. It behooves us to tell the whole story, all of it, because that helps us to see who we are now and to believe we can be still better. We need to include the shadow as well as the light. We were instrtm~ents of social grace and social sin. We were victims of prejudice and injustice, but we were perpetrators as well. Until recently, women religious have not been telling our story well. Why not? One reason is that a certain understanding of the virtue of humility has conditioned us to be hesitant about promoting ourselves. Another reason might be that our entertainment-hungry, attention-deficient culture seems able to hear only a particularly loud voice. To tell what was happening, we might consider chapter headings like these for our story: ¯ Some Came and Stayed, Some Passed Through and Left Their Mark ¯ With Their Own Blood, Sweat, Tears-- and Money ¯ "Open a Hospital? But We Thought You Wanted Us to Teach" ¯ They Don't Trust Catholics, but They Want Sisters' Care When They're Injured ¯ How Many Communities in This Diocese? Only God Knows! Some of our communities started here on the bed-rock of this ever-changing place. Most were seedlings transplanted from elsewhere into its stubborn soil. All soon found themselves irrevocably transformed. Some came to New York and moved on, up and down the Atlantic coast, or west, into the heartland and frontier. Some came and stayed here. There was always plenty of work to do here, no matter when they came. We can imagine a common story line that begins with a letter something like this: Revie~v for Religious Reverend Mother Superior: We beg you to send Sisters to take care of [one or more of the following kinds of needy persons]: orphans, uneducated, sick poor, abandoned infants, girls working as domestics who are being seduced by their employers, youngsters needing to learn a trade, elderly folks, homeless, families at risk, immigrants who can't speak the language, people hungry for food and knowledge, Catholics who need to be counted and catechized. Please come yourself if you can, Mother, or at least send us your best workers--the strongest, the bright-est, the most fearless. We need you desperately. Respectfully yours, Bishop or Pastor or Trustee Also part of the story line, though rarely found writ-ten down in the letters, are facts and observations like these: ¯ Never mind that the house won't be ready for you. You'll probably have to count on the hospitality of another community until you find your own. ¯ We can't promise you much money--you'll have to raise most of it yourself. ¯ You may end up as martyrs to cholera, dysentery, influenza, tuberculosis, and violence and to the poverty of the poor you came to serve. ° You may find that the demands of your work make it hard, even impossible, to live your Rule, your way of living and praying that you cherish so deeply.6 What was happening? Two hundred years ago, in 1808, John Carroll was breathing a sigh of relief, after a fashion. Since 1789 he had been bishop of the one diocese in the U.S.A, a territory that stretched from the Atlantic to the Mississippi and from Canada to the Spanish Floridas. Now Baltimore was named .an arch-diocese, and Carroll's pastoral burden was lessened by the creation of four suffragan dioceses.7 The New York diocese comprised all of New York I! 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of Women Religious in New York 236] State and part of New Jersey. The 80,000 inhabitants of New York included about 14,000 Catholics, mostly Irish, with some French and Germans, served by one Catholic parish, St. Peter's, on Barclay Street. In 1808 the non-Catholic majority of New Yorkers viewed the parish with disdain, and its mostly poor, immigrant con-gregation as uncouth, dirty, and decidedly lacking in proper religious sensibility. Also in 1808 a young widow was about to leave New York. She was a convert, and Catholic Baltimore seemed infinitely more hospitable than her native city, where the disdain could be hostile. I speak of Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton, saint of New York. We cannot tell the story of women religious in this archdiocese without her, though she never lived here as a religious. The school she began in Baltimore became the catalyst for a new religious community. In July 1809, on donated land in Emmitsburg, in the Maryland hills, she (a Catholic for only four years) began the Sisters of Charity of Saint Joseph's. It was the first active women's congregation founded in and native to the United States. Elizabeth and her advisers modeled it on the noncloistered Daughters of Charity founded by Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac in 17th-century France, but they adapted the Rule to the circumstances and needs of 19th-century America. The language and faces Changed, but many of those needs remain today. To the Ursulines belongs the distinction of being the first women religious in the New World. They came to Canada in 1639 and to French New Orleans in 1727. Twelve nuns came from France to nurse, but soon found themselves teaching, caring for orphans, and working with wayward women. One of their novices wrote home: "We are determined not to spare ourselves Review for Religious in anything that will be for the greater glory of God.''8 Some Ursulines from Ireland came to New York in 1812, began a school that lasted only three years, and then returned home. In 1817, nine years after the diocese was established, Mother Seton yielded to the pleas of New York Catholics and sent, as a gift to her home church, three sisters to care for orphans in what was then St. Patrick's Cathedral parish on Mott and Prince Streets. At that time Catholics numbered about 20,000. Concerning the New York Catholics, Mother Seton wrote: "So much must depend . . . on who is sent to my 'native city' they say, not knowing that I am a citizen of the world.''9 Soon demands for sisters increased, as they were to do again and again in all our stories. Mother Seton had her native New York pegged: "so distracted a place." Later correspondents would be even more grim in their descrip-tion of the poverty, filth, and violence of the city in which sisters taught, nursed, and cared for orphans. Bishop John Hughes, known to friend and foe alike as "Dagger John," would later call New York "Babylon the Great." An estimated one-seventh of the city's population of 15,000 depended on public relief in the winter of 1817. By 1820, health and housing issues in the city were critical. In the economic slump after the War of 1812, a huge influx of immigrants and annual yellow-fever epidemics created what amounted to a continuous state of emergency.l° I To the, Ursulines belongs ,the distinction of being ' 'ihe first women religious in the New World, 68.3 2009 Becbtle * Tbe Impaa of Women Religious in New York 238 In 1827 Bishop John Dubois wrote that his flock included about 30,000 mostly poor Catholics, and com-plained ~that property in New York was very expensive. That same year several Religious of the Sacred Heart stopped in New York en route to St. Louis. In 1841 their congregation would return for good as the city's second religious community of women when Mother Aloysia Hardey opened on Houston.and Mulberry Streets an academy that would later move to Astoria. Catholic-and-immigrant is a recurring theme. In 1785, when St. Peter's Church was dedicated, people said the pastor needed to be fluent in six languages-- English, German, French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Irish--to serve his two hundred parishioners. Today Mass is celebrated in thirty-three languages in the New York archdiocese, and most large urban dioceses report similar statistics. The numbers of Irish and German immigrants com-ing in the 1830s brought strong anti-Catholic feeling to the surface. In 1836 The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk was published, a slanderous account of cruelty and abuse in a Montreal nunnery. The falsity of it did nothing to keep it from becoming the best-selling American book before Uncle Tom's Cabin.~l Across the country, fear of immigrants and foreigners went together with a viru-lent opposition to Catholicism. The 1834 burning of an Ursuline convent in Charlestown, Massachusetts, was but one expression of anti-Catholic hatred. Yet, in the face of such rabid Nativist prejudice, over and over it was sisters--nursin.g, teaching, risking their lives for the poor--who gradually tempered society's perception of the church and of its immigrant flock. By 1848 one-third of New York's population was foreign born, swelled by thousands of Irish desperate to Review for Religious escape the terrible famine in their homeland. The eighty-two women religious in the diocese included a new group, the Sisters of Mercy. Mother M. Agnes O'Connor and six Sisters from Dublin, the "walking nuns," visited the sick in their homes, taught adults, took in young women seeking to escape from prosti-tution, and visited prisons. Mother Seton's daughter Catherine became one of their first postulants. In 1849 a cholera epidemic killed five thousand New Yorkers. In November of that year, the diocese's first Catholic hos-pital, St. Vincent's, opened with thirty beds, five doc-tors, and four Sisters of Charity. The needs of a rapidly expanding Catholic popula-tion prompted Rome to carve new dioceses from the see of New York: in 1847 Albany and Buffalo, and in 1853 Brooklyn (including all of Long Island) and Newark (including all of New Jersey). The area of the diocese of New York, named an archdiocese in 1850, had shrunk to one-tenth of its original size, but its people had grown to more than three hundred times its original number, between 300,000 and 400,000 Catholics?2 By 1855 over half of New York City's population was foreign born. It was known as the largest Irish city in the world and the third largest German city. In 1867 the Good Shepherd Sisters took in 275 young women who had been coerced into a life of pros-titution. Many of them were domestics whose employers By 1855; New York City ~as, known as the largest ,,Irish ,ei~in the World and the , third !argest German city, 23,9 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of FVomen Religious in Nay York had, in polite terms, ruined their reputations. Another 500 had to be turned away. In 1869 Sister Mary Irene Fitzgibbon SC opened the New York Foundling asylum. By the time of her death in 1896, this pioneer Catholic child-welfare agency had cared for 28,000 infants and many pregnant unwed and working mothers as well. By 1885 women religious supervised most of New York's child-welfare system, with more than eighty per-cent of its dependent children in their care. The New York Foundling (Sisters of Charity) and the Mission of the Immaculate Virgin (Sisters of St. Francis), the two largest institutions--along with those operated by Sisters of Mercy, of Divine Compassion, of Notre Dame, of the Good Shepherd, and others--provided a safe and caring environment for approximately 15,000 children.13 As needs grew, so did the religious work force. By 1875 there were about a thousand Catholic sisters in New York City. In ten years the number doubled. Child welfare was a major social problem. According to 1904 statistics, New York City harbored one-third of all insti-tutionalized and dependent children in the whole country. At the beginning of the 20th century, the archdiocese included 42 national parishes that served 11 different eth-nic groups. By 1911 women religious had founded three Catholic colleges for women: the Ursulines' College of New Rochelle (1904), the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Mary's Marymount College (1907), and the Sisters of Charity's .College of Mount St. Vincent (1911). In 1939, when Francis Spellman became New York's archbishop, this local church had over 2,500 priests, 10,000 nuns, and two million members. (It was also $26 million in debt.)14 What was happening? After World War II, in most U.S. religious congregations, there was a peak period Review for Religious of growth that lasted until the late 1960s. Those boom years and the winds of change that Vatican Council II set swirling deserve fuller analysis and reflection than is possible here)5 What Was "Really Going On"? I turn now to my second question: Amid all the facts and statistics in the story of women religious, what was "really going on" in, with, through, and even in spite of what was happening? How was and is God's work evident? I asked a few lay colleagues to describe the impact of women religious. A female pastoral associate responded, "Women religious have paved the way for the rest of us." A male theology professor replied that religious "have been gatekeepers of religious information, vital to identity formation." And from a male sociology profes-sor: "Women religious have helped us rethink our world and understand that mission is local and global." Some might find meaning in the story of New York's women religious by charting a trajectory: ¯ from assimi-lation to accompaniment, ¯ from competition to col-laboration, ¯ from convent lifestyles of cookie-cutter conformity to distinguishable diversity, ¯ from provin-cialism to global connection, ° from presence in institu-tions to presence to issues of our day. For others, the story of women religious in New York is a story of collective self-awakening that parallels the major social movements of the past two centuries, for example, from being the church's cheap labor force to being "catalysts to conscience.''~6 What was "really going on"? How was the Spirit present in our blind spots and flashes of light, in our so-called successes and so-called failures? What signs of 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of Women Religious in New York 242 God's moving and shaking, God's transforming energy and grace, can we notice? Underneath the narrative, faith always senses a deeper story, marked with the signs of God's pervasive presence. That story speaks of risk, of courage, of loss, and of love that transcends loss. It reveals themes of faithfulness, of relationship, of witness, and of power. It is a story much bigger than that of any one religious community. In assessing the impact of women religious, assess-ing what was "really going on," I offer four replies: (1) Faithfulness was (and is) going on. In the lives of the women named earlier in this article, faithfulness wore a highly public face. It shaped thought, molded institu-tions, awakened conscience, crafted public policy, acted and spoke out against ignorance, war, and poverty and for education, compassion, peace, and justice. Margaret John Kelly DC speaks of our legacy of "charity embrac-ing justice," a legacy that "generated energy as it moved from the hovels and points of entry in the 19th century to the halls and courts of power in our 21st century.''17 In their fierce fidelity, some among us are impelled by the Spirit to make private pain a public issue. In the lives of most of us, faithfulness takes a more ordinary form. (2) Relationship was (and is) going on. For example, there were relationships with the laity. Lay benefac-tors often saw needs more clearly than ecclesiastics did. Catholic and Protestant laywomen invited the Sisters of the Good Shepherd to minister to prostitutes in New York's prisons and almshouses in 1857. (Some while earlier, Archbishop Hughes would not acknowledge the fact of prostitution among Irish immigrant women.)~s From the earliest days, women religious knew that Review for Religious we could never carry out our mission alone, even though we sometimes pretended that we could. New York's first parish schools were begun by lay people, who soon invited sisters and brothers to staff them. The same was true in the first orphanages and hospitals, where lay managers, physicians, and clinicians supervised--and sometimes locked horns with--the sisters who served there. Before long, sisters assumed leadership of those same institutions and shaped them into vital providers of service in society. In our day, relationships are shift-ing again. Today, as they seek new ways to be in part-nership for the sake of the mission, religious and the laity depend on each other as never before. There were and are relationships with non-Catholics. Again and again, by their heroic behavior in epidemics, wars, and disasters, women religious won over the very Nativists and Know-Nothings who had vilified them. A prominent WASP (white Anglo-Saxon Protestant), Mr. Edwards Pierpont, exemplified the change of heart that sisters wrought. During the Civil War he told the Secretary of War that he wanted only a certain commu-nity of sisters to staff a military hospital in New York's Central Park, because they were "the most faithful nurses in the world." There were and are relationships among and between religious communities. In the early years, one arriving community after another was greeted with hospital-ity rather than aloofness or competitiveness by those already established here. In New York's urban vineyard, with plenty of work to be done, there were always too few laborers. In 1889, with the blessing of Pope Leo XIII, Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini and six Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart came to New York to work with Italian orphans. No one knew anything about the 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ Tbe Impact of Women Religious in New York convent they had been promised, so they spent their first night in a rundown rooming house. The Sisters of Charity took them in until a house hastily rented by a benefactor was ready. Unfortunately, that sisterly spirit could and often did yield to smug self-sufficiency. Rivalries, turf battles, and isolating rules kept members incommunicado from other congregations. Perhaps our large numbers and institutional presence during the peak years 1940-1969 inflated our corporate egos and narrowed our vision. Certainly, much of pre-Vatican II Catholic theology did little to dispose us to build bridges of understanding beyond boundaries. Today, happily, collaboration is a way of life for women religious. In theory and in prac-tice, we know that "none of us is as smart as all of us." (3) Witness was (and is) going on. Witness, intention-ally directed towards others, about what should be and against what should not be if God's dream is to be real-ized, expresses religious life's prophetic vocation. From our first days in this archdiocese, the not-so-subtle sub-text of our lives was: "Look. See. Pay attention. The poor are always among us--not invisible, not forgotten." The women religious who pioneered child-care insti-tutions in the late 19th century did more than mother countless orphans and foundlings. In a society that wanted to punish the poor for their poverty and ostra-cize unmarried women for their sexual conduct, they aligned themselves with the least ones. Their actions of compassion witnessed to the worth and dignity of every human being. Today our witness is the same: it is not about ourselves. It is about people in need, whether here or far away, in cardboard shacks on city streets or in huts with dirt floors in faraway parts of the world. "With whom do you believe your lot is cast?" asks the Review for Religious I! poet Adrienne Rich.19 Our answer has been clear: the least of Christ's sisters and brothers. (4) Power was (and is) going on. Interwoven with our stories are stories of power used and abused, for good and for ill. We have been agents and victims of power, subjects and objects of power. In our liminal status as neither clerics nor laypersons, we walk a fine line. As public persons in the church, we are subject to more sanctions and less freedom than the laity. Like them, we are closed off from much decision-making where we could exercise power for appropriate change. More than once we have given over our power and col-luded with unjust social and ecclesial structures. Diminishment, not power, seems the over- . ,~religious life today. riding theme in conver-sations about religious life today. But it is hardly the whole story. Our Catholic heritage gives us other angles from which to view the reality. We should look clearly and sensitively at things seen, but also in faith be sensitive to things unseen. The cold hard facts of the past forty years--declining numbers, more women dying than entering, the rising median age, retirement expenses, and cherished ministries sold, merged, or lost--do not tell the whole story, any more than the success and solidity of the 1940s and 1950s captured the whole story. The key question is: What wisdom have we learned from the success and the suffering that have been part of every stage of our existence? (And how do believers ~ i ~D~minishrnent, , not power, "~, ,seems tlie overriding theme ~ ¯ in, conversations about [245 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The Impact of Women Religious in New York 246] measure success anyway?) As one congregational leader asked, "Do life's traumatic events serve as catalysts for transformation or stagnation in our religious congrega-rions?'' 2° What does all of it have to do with the mystery of dying and rising with Christ, the mystery of transfor-marion, that is the core of being Christian believers? In our beginnings, struggles, growth, and letting go, how have we tasted grace? Questions like these can move us to imagine an alternate view. We have claimed, explicidy and unapolo-gerically, power to create and re-create, to realize God's dream, in imitation and remembrance of the Jesus whom we vow to follow. We have used power to make a differ-ence in people's lives, to bring about change in society. Pope Benedict XVl recognized this in his address last year to U.S. Catholic educators: "Countless dedicated religious sisters, brothers, and priests together with selfless parents have, through Catholic schools, helped generations of immigrants to rise from poverty and take their place in mainstream society." We have used power to translate dreams and imaginings into buildings and behaviors, programs and policies; to shape the spiritual sensibilities of a people; to build relationships, widen the circle, and bring others to the table. This Spirit-story of power fought for and claimed, energy released and transformed, gifts shared and multi-plied, is the story of women religious. From what source do we draw this power? Does our deep life in God have anything to do with our story, with our impact? The answer may be obvious to us in religious life, but it needs to be voiced unambiguously. Not long ago Doris Gottemoeller RSM said of women religious, "We struggle to make our daily efforts transpar-ent to the love of God which animates us and the hope Review for Religious that guides us into the future." It is "the love of God which animates us," and it is that love alone which gives us the heart and energy of our committed response. I began with two questions: What was happening? And what was really going on? The course of these remarks has led me to two different but related ways of posing those questions, namely, With whom do we believe our lot is cast? And from where have we drawn our strength? Indeed, women religious in the church of New York and elsewhere have written a long scroll of faithfulness. We have aided people everywhere. The faithful witness of our efforts has changed public perception of religion and shaped public discourse about charity and justice. But our impact is most authentically measured, I believe, not by the visible standards of institutional presence or even the calculus of service, but rather in the incalcu-lable, invisible source of our energy and service, the passionate presence of God in us, the deep wellsprings of Spirit-life from which we live. No words, no story, can tell how God in us has touched our hearts and the hearts of others, and changed our world for the better. Matthew 2.5 makes it clear: it is love that matters. Surely, that final revealing of all that was obscure and hidden, that final tally of impact, will tell the story of women religious and their love--their immense, faith-ful, relational, witnessing, and powerful love--lived from deep within the heart of God. 1 This article is adapted from an address given at St. Ignatius Loyola Parish in New York, 3 April 2008, in a series commemorating the arch-diocese's 200th anniversary. Speakers were asked: "To what next step, to what new place, are women religious and our local church being invited? 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The Impact of Women Religious in New York 248 What would the future look like through the eyes of your foundress?" 2 About 2,900 professed women religious live and minister in the archdiocese of New York. 3 Though this article focuses on New York, it is easily applicable to other dioceses. ~ Readers will know similar stories wherever they live. s "Diversity as Tradition: Why the Future of Christianity Is Looking More Like Its Past," Santa Clara Lecture, Santa Clara University, 8 November 2007. http://www.scu.edu/ignatiancenter/events/lectures/ index.cfm 6 For example, the Dominican sisters in Blauvelt, New York, a rural area in the 1880s, could not keep the rule of enclosure because their work with orphans required frequent trips to the New York City courtS~ 7 Thomas Spalding, The Premier See: A History of the Archdiocese of Baltimore, 1789-1994 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989), notes that Carroll did not want to foster a lot of strictly Catholic institutions, but rather "wished the local church to blend imperceptibly into the social fabric" (p. 62). The needs of the growing immigrant Catholic population would soon dictate otherwise. s [Sister Therese Wolfe OSU], The Ursulines in New Orleans and Our Lady of Prompt Succor: A Record of Two Centuries, 1727-1925 (New York: P.J. Kenedy & Sons, 1925), pp. 199-200. 9 Elizabeth Seton to Rev. Simon Brute, 1 August 1817, in Elizabeth Barley Seton Collected Writings, 4 vols., ed. Regina Bechtle SC and Judith Metz SC; ross. ed., Ellin M. Kelly (New York: New City Press, 2000- 2006), vol. 2, p. 494. l0 Christine Stansell, City of Women: Sex and Class in New York, 1789- 1860 (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1986), pp. 8-9 & 19. l~ See John McGreevy, Catholicism and American Freedom: A History (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2003). ~2 Thomas J. Shelley, The Bicentennial History of the Archdiocese of New York, 1808-2008 (Strasbourg: Editions du Signe, 2007), p. 171. ~3 Maureen Fitzgerald, Habits of Compassion (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006), p. 133. ~4 1 am indebted to Maureen Welsh SHCJ for compiling and sum-marizing many of the statistics used in this article. ~s See, for example, Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). Review for Religious I! 16 Joan Chittister OSB has written that the purpose of religious life is to be "a searing presence, a paradigm of search, a mark of human soul, and a catalyst to conscience in the society in which it emerged." ,7 Margaret John Kelly DC, address to Catholic Charities of New York, 21 February 2008, reported in Catholic New York, 28 February 2008. 18 See Shelley, Bicentennial History, p. 356. 19 Adrienne Rich, "The Spirit of Place." z0 Mary Persico IHM, "Welcoming the Storm," LCWR Occasional Papers, Winter 2007. Deadheading Deadheading daffodils is sad but necessary work. When the rich yellow trumpet goes all papery and transparent it begins to draw life from the bulb which stores it for next year's flowering. So, like a minor executioner, I lop offheads - snip, snip, snip - watch them fall haphazardly to the gentler earth which gathers up old life to make it new again. Bonnie Thurston 68.3 2009 PHILIP SHANO Communal Examen ignatian prayer Father George Aschenbrenner's groundbreaking article of 1972 on the "consciousness examen" led to a renewed understanding of the tradi-tional Ignatian exercise and its dynamic role in our personal lives2 His work dealt with the personal examen. In recent years occasional efforts have stressed Ignatian spirituality's communal dimension. Among those efforts is the work of a group called Ignatian Spiritual Exercises for the Corporate Person (ISECP), uniting the dynamic of the Exercises with insights of group facilitation.2 Also, an entire issue of The Way Supplement was devoted to communal discernment.3 John English SJ's book Spiritual Intimacy and Community deals with it.4 It stresses our nature as members of a community and helps readers to reflect on discernment's communal dimension. Philip Shano SJ last wrote for us in 2008. His address is soon to be Canadian Martyrs Residence; 2 Dale Avenue; Toronto, Ontario; M4W 1K4 Canada. Review for Religious This article, however, is not about communal dis-cernment per se; the pieces mentioned above are good starting points for that purpose. This article simply describes a "communal" examen of consciousness, an exercise based on the realization that Ignatian spiritual-ity is applicable to communities, not just individual men and: women. Where is Christ to be found in daily com-munity living? Communities, families, organizations, and even nations can experience collective consolation or desolation, a sense of being connected with God's movements in the world or a sense of being separated from them. Spirituality is communal. Though Ignatius's definitions and rules in the Exercises apply primarily to persons' relationship with God, they are also applicable to communal situations, to persons' relationship with one another. The communal examen, then, can help the community as a group to attend to its daily life in a prayerful way. The communal examen adapts the general examen found in the Spiritual Exercises (§§32-43). I divide this exercise into two connected parts. The first involves guiding our community prayerfully through the steps of the examen--a loving and contemplative look at our life together. The second part invites dialogue or conver-sation so that we share with the others our reflections on our community's life. I will refer to the parts as the guided examen and the conversational examen. One of the attractions of the communal examen is the power of a community praying together. In an arti-cle on Jesuits and the liturgy, Robert Taft SJ, professor emeritus of oriental liturgy at the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome, makes a distinction between freedom and obligation in Jesuit communal prayer. He points out that Ignatius did not want his men to be obligated to [25! 68.3 2009 Sbano ¯ Communal Examen celebrate the Hours regularly, but did want them to have the freedom to do this. He quotes a litde-known text. To his secretary, Juan de Polanco, Ignatius said: "We remain free to have choir when and where it may seem to contribute to God's greater service. Only the obligation is removed."5 In initiating the communal examen in my commu-nity, a Jesuit novitiate, my desire was that this exercise be truly communal. Early in our experience, we realized that, although we called it communal, it had a personal focus. As one member said, we were sitting with the others in a quiet space and praying about the week just past, but we were reflecting more on how "I" live in the community. The difference can be subtle, but our aim in our weekly examen is to move the primacy from "oneself in the community" to "ourselves as the com-munity." To that end I avoided using the pronoun "I" when I led the examen. The Method In our novitiate we keep the communal examen in .our weekly calendar. With few exceptions it takes place each Friday morning. We look in a prayerful and discerning way at the past week and then to the week coming up. The leader prepares the examen a day or two earlier, prayerfully considering what has been hap-pening. The leader asks himself: Where is the energy in the community? What are the Spirit's movements? Do people in the community look tired, or are they energized and upbeat? Are they engaged, or are they withdrawing? The leader has .tried to pick up the gen-eral flow of life in the community--at the dining-room table, in living-room conversations, in classes, at Mass, and so on. He does this not as an external observer, but Review for Religious as one of the community. He "listens" for subtle move-ments; he tries to be a discerning presence in the com-munity. (The leader should probably be the superior or some other person of authority in the group.) We spend about forty minutes on the communal exa-men. The first twenty or so are devoted to the guided examen. Then, after a transitional prayer, we begin our conversation, our dialogue. The guided examen uses the five elements of traditional conscious-ness examens. After an opening prayer, we begin with gratitude. Adapting Ignatius's words and making them relevant for this com-munity at this time, the guide invites the community to "give thanks to God our Lord for the benefits [we] have received" (SpEx §43). He simply and prayerfully reminds us of some of the highlights (either scheduled or spontaneous) in the community's life in the past week. After a few more guiding words, several minutes of silence follow, during which all get in touch with experiences for which they are grateful to God. The purpose of the leader's guiding words, of course, was to jog people's memories. Communities busy with many things may easily have forgotten some noteworthy things, or may have taken them for granted. Next the guide again offers, as at each stage, a few guiding points or questions and then leaves the group to silence. We pray for the enlightening grace to see our week as God's sees it and to use this time prayerfully. Third, and probably most significandy for the com- Did some event have a very positive and consoling effect on the community? 6g.3 2009 Sbano ¯ Communal Examen munity's discernment, we look again at things we are grateful for and then we pray for awareness of where and when we, as a community, experienced consolation or desolation, union of minds and hearts, or separation and isolation. What were significant moments in the community this week? Was there a lot of internal move-ment in the community because of a particular event? Which events are worthwhile for the community to go back and revisit, letting God's grace shine in a new way? My practice in this third step is to be as specific as pos-sible, especially if at some time energy and consolation were clearly present, or there were evident moments of desolation and a loss of energy. For instance, was there a very real source of tension in the community that week? Was there a jarring argument, or did a big public event cause concern? Did some event have a very positive and consoling effect on the community? In the fall of 2008, the election campaign in the United States was clearly having an impact on conver-sations in the living room and at table. Likewise, the community was not immune to the daily news of war, terrorism, economic turmoil, and political scandal. The ministry that novices were doing one or two days a week gave Mondays and Wednesdays a distincdy different feel at table than other days. There was usually an upbeat atmosphere as the men recounted experiences from their ministries. How do we let God's grace into the things that have an impact on the life of the community? All of this is fruit for prayerful reflection together. Our fourth step is to look at our sin as a commu-nity. That means looking to our relationships with one another or with others outside the community. It involves a look at our life as a community: Where or when are we wasteful of time or money, food or drink, electricity or Review for Religious paper? Where are we avoiding others? How are we as a community not attentive to our brothers and sisters in the city around us? What effect did the negative mood of one or two of us have on the rest of us? Are we hospi-table? As with the "discernment" step, it is helpful to be as specific as possible. In some areas we may know we are sinful or wonder whether we are. Perhaps a well-stocked refrigerator stands as a stark reminder of our difference from most peo-ple in the world. Or per-haps our garbage cans tell us something about our waste and the gifts we take for granted. Or maybe the fatigue and moodiness of one member has influenced all of us that week. If a community is honest, it does not take long to realize some communal sinfulness. Realization is one step. Sorrow is another. The final step is a hope-filled look at the week com-ing up, in the light of what we are learning about the week just ended. From what we know about our life together--both virtue and sinfulness--is there some-thing specific we should be especially attentive to? What special or ordinary events are coming up next week? Does anything there need special grace? What hopes and prayers do we have for next week? As with the earlier steps, here the leader offers a few guiding words and then leaves the group in silence. This much takes us about twenty minutes. After a simple transitional prayer, we go to the sec-ond part, the conversational examen, something notably different. The leader does not guide here. The members of the community raise points and offer reflections. The iMayhe the f ti ue and moodiness of one ,member has nfluenced all of us, 68.3 2009 Shano ¯ Communal Examen assumption is that they have thoughtfully focused on their life together and that their remarks will be more communal than personal. Dialogue is expected. The aim of this medium of exchange is to help the community itself grow in spirit and in practice. For instance, if one person says "I am disturbed by our community's sin of wastefulness," the hope is that others will respond either by asking for clarification or by adding their own obser-vations. Otherwise, an important opportunity for the community's growth has been missed. It is good when members recognize together how much the community has been in consolation, or deso-lation, in the wake of specific occurrences or choices. That can lead to shared thanksgiving and shared self-awareness (or community-awareness), or to shared sor-row for our communal sin and shared hope for the week coming up. Do we have commonly shared desires? That questi.on may involve subdeties that are hard to commu-nicate, but, when there is a prayerful disposition in the group, members can more easily hear one another. Some Other Things We Learned What have we learned about this trial-and-error exercise? First, the setting should be a prayerful one, but not overly prayerful. We used to conduct both phases in the chapel, but found that, understandably, it did not foster conversation. We took each other's words a little too sacredly there, and thus not communally enough. Then we tried using the chapel for the guided examen and a seminar table for the conversational section. That was all right, but it seemed two businesslike after our time in the chapel. Now we use a living room. The weekly communal examen helps us look at how we are living together in community: things that "work" Review for Religious by orienting us toward God and community, and things that lead to isolation and its attendant problems. Being a novitiate, we do that regularly anyhow, but the exa-men provides a prayerful setting for this to happen. It serves, in a way, as a weekly and prayerful community meeting. It offers us a chance to pray together in an easy way over the logistics and mechanics of how we actually live together. The weekly examen needs to have flexibility built into it. A good analogy is the personal consciousness examen. That prayerful habit changes and develops over time. Likewise, the communal examen needs to grow. A community looks and acts differently after a few months of living together.6 And, when new members move in, it changes and needs to develop new habits. Let me restate the obvious. The guides need to be in tune with the movements in the community. Their guid-ance questions cannot be generic or rote; they have to resonate with the community. Is there an ongoing issue that needs continual attention? VChat issue does this community need to attend to this week? In what ways are we in harmony with God's activity in the world? What do we need to be monitoring? Perhaps it is our tendency to overwork or overanalyze. Or are we weak at hospitality and just "wasting time" with one another and our guests? Do we neglect the playfulness or creative side of life in community? Do we mention the same discernments or the same kind or degree of sinfulness week after week? All of those things tell us something about how we are living. The communal examen needs to be adapted to this community's uniqueness. It can be a good way of being honest with one another. In our practice we end the exercise with a brief clos-ing prayer. I have thought, however, that it could be 68.3 2009 Shano * Communal Examen Guidance questions have to resonate with the community,: expanded, It could wrap up some of what we discussed in the second half. On the other hand, that may depend on whether the conversation has led to the resolution of something. Presumably, as time goes on, the group will deal better with issues that arise. In that regard, the hope for the communal examen is no different than people's hope that their personal praying of the exa-men of consciousness will help them keep growing and developing spiritually. One caution needs mentioning. Just because a com-munity is committed to the weekly examen does not mean that community members should store up issues till the formal exercise concludes another week. People should use the present moment and informal opportunities to deal with many things. The communal examen simply offers a chance to look back from the perspective of a week. It offers another occasion to commend or affirm each other--something that can happen naturally enough all week long. It may offer a better way of dealing with pat-terns of behavior. It can be a time of gende challenges to both individuals and community. It offers us the chance to take a long, loving look at our community living. More than thirty-five years ago George Aschenbrenner said, "We are talking about an experience in faith of growing sensitivity to the unique, intimately special ways that the Lord's Spirit has of approaching and call-ing us.''7 Over the decades, we have grown to recognize the need not only for me tO pray better but for us to pray together better.8 Review for Religioua Notes ' George A. Aschenbrenner sJ, "Consciousness Examen," Review for Religious 31 (1972): 14-21. Aschenbrenner wrote a follow-up article about the examen in Review for Religious 39 (May 1980): 321-324. 2 Ignatian Spiritual Exercises for the Corporate Person (ISECP) was founded in 1977 as a joint Canadian-American project involving several Jesuits and their colleagues working to bring together some insights and methods based on merging group dynamics/facilitation with the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. It was based in the University of Scranton (Pennsylvania). The group still exists, under a new name and acronym, International Society of Community Engagement Professionals (ISCEP), based in Appleton, Wisconsin, with Judith A. Roemer OSF at the helm. Information and resources are available at www.iscep.org. 3 The Way Supplement 85 (Spring 1996), titled "Discerning Together." It offers articles by writers experienced in communal dis-cernment. It presents a way of doing communal discernment and deals with issues such as conflict, social sin and grace, and cross-cultural communication. q John English SJ, Spiritual Intimacy and Community: An Ignatian View of the Small Faith Community (London: Darton, Longrnan and Todd, 1992). 5 Juan de Polanco is quoted in Robert E Taft sJ, "Liturgy in the Life and Mission of the Society of Jesus," in Liturgy in a Postmodern World, ed. Keith Pecklers SJ (London and New York: Continuum, 2003), p. 51. 6 My experience is with a formation community that changes from year to year. The members, mostly novices, presumably change and grow amid new challenges and opportunities. The weekly examen will look a little different in a community that has more stability. 7 Aschenbrenner, "Consciousness Examen," p. 15. s Some of the ideas in this article are from my experience of working on the Leadership Formation Programme at Loyola House, Guelph, Canada, in the 1990s. This programme was offered prin-cipally to the Waterloo Region Roman Catholic Separate School Board. I acknowledge, too, my Jesuit novitiate community in St. Paul, Minnesota, USA, with whom I have been able to put into practice the communal examen. 68.3 2009 Shano ¯ Communal Examen Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. In our apostolic community, how might we adopt this approach to a communal examen that Philp Shano uses within a formation (novitiate) community? 2. What are the benefits to our way of living community life if we regularly schedule a communal examen? What are some pitfalls that we need to avoid if we regularly schedule a communal examen? I Confession We chase butterflies Fluttering fresh From the chrysalis of creation And entangle inarticulable wonders Of sorrow and delight In rough nets of words And pin them to the page. For the presumption, Lord Of our faded Lepidoptera Unable to survive The trauma of their capturing We ask forgiveness Even if not promising Never to sin again. Ian A.T. While Review for Religious LOUIS M. SAVARY Ignatius' s Contemplatio ad Amorem One of the most memorable experiences of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises is its final exercise, commonly referred to in Latin as the Contemplatio ad Amorem.1 The title has been traditionally translated as "The Contemplation for Attaining Divine Love" or "The Contemplation to Reach Love," which is Jesuit Joseph Tetlow's interpretation.2 Notice that neither translation mistakenly says "obtaining" God's love, for Ignatius knows that we already are receiving that divine love in infinite abundance. Rather, in this experience Ignatius offers us a way to learn how to "reach for" and hopefully "attain" and "possess" the ability to love the way God loves. In line with this clarification, accord-ing to Jesuit George Aschenbrenner, some have sug-gested retitling this experience "Loving the Way God Loves."3 Louis M. Savary has given lectures and workshops on Teilhardian spirituality for many years. His address is 3404 Ellenwood Lane; Tampa, Florida 33618. lousavary@yahoo.com 68.3 2009 Savary ¯ Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Starting with the Contemplatio I have heard it secondhand that some well-respected Ignatian retreat directors, when presenting the Spiritual Exercises to those who have made the Exercises before, perhaps many times, begin with the Conternplatio. Starting at the end, though counterintuitive, seems an excellent idea, for at least three reasons. First of all, by beginning with the Contemplatio, sea-soned retreatants reconnect with where they left off the last time they made the Exercises. Reentering the Contemplatio during their first rediscover their wonder and cious presence in their lives, day in retreat, they quickly gratefulness at God's gra-and they recall the gener-ous and loving response they made to God in the "Take and Receive" prayer during earlier retreats. When they enter the First Week in this way, they are approaching the Exercises from a new vantage point, with gratitude and love for God renewed, and they are more likely to be open to making an ever greater (magis) offering of themselves to God during the coming days of prayer. The second reason comes from a beautiful insight of Michael J. Buckley SJ, who describes in his now famous article how Ignatius's four points of the Contemplatio recapitulate in succession the Four Weeks of the Exercises.4 By beginning an Ignatian retreat with the Contemplatio, the retreatants summarize--and anticipate, as it were--the various graces and spiritual dynamics they can look forward to during the coming "Weeks" of the Exercises.5 Third, other retreat directors have complained that they must sometimes spend a full day or two (of an eight-day retreat) just to help busy, stress-filled retreatants to slow down enough to experience God's presence. Beginning the retreat with the Conternplatio, Review for Religious the retreatants would probably feel immersed in God's presence upon noticing with greater awareness the coundess gifts of God they have been receiving in their daily lives. Two Spiritual Truths In his introduction to this contemplation, Ignatius wants us to be mindful of two spiritual truths. The first is that "love ought to manifest itself more by deeds than by words.''6 The second is that "love consists in mutual communication between the two per-sons. That is, the one who loves gives and communicates to the beloved what one has, or a part of what one has or can have; and the beloved in return ~ does the same to the lover. Thus, if one has knowledge, one gives it to the other who does not; and similarly in regard to honors and riches. Each shares with the other." What Ignatius describes here is the way God, as Lover, loves. God's loving is an unconditionally gener-ous sharing of the divine life with all that he loves. And the sharing is done in deeds, not just in words. The grace we are to seek in this contemplation is not primarily gratitude and wonder at realizing how unconditionally God loves us, though this is a very nat-ural response. To stop there is to miss the main point. The grace we want is to respond appropriately to this divine Lover. To this end Ignatius, the great "technician Thel gra.ke We are to seek in this contemplation is not primarily gratitude and wonder at realizing how ,unconditionally God loves us. 263 68.3 2009 Savaty ¯ Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 2 41 of the sacred," designed this experience in four stages. At each stage he asks us (1) to observe closely the way God loves us and (2) to put into practice our love of God and the rest of creation in a similarly unconditional and generous way. In this contemplation, Ignatius has us observe God's love at four points, which I prefer to call stages, for at each there is an advance. At the first, we note God giv-ing us gifts. At the second, we note that God is pres-ent in the gifts and even in. the gift of our very selves. At the third stage, we take notice of God continuously acting (and laboring) in and through those gifts and in and through ourselves as well. Finally, at the fourth and fullest stage, we realize that God is personally sharing the divine Life with us. We find ourselves loved com-pletely and desiring to return that love in the complete way that God loves us.8 Four Developmental Stages The first stage of showing love is the giving of a gift in the form of a tangible object, like a carefully cho-sen birthday present. Ignatius expects not only that we will feel wonder and gratitude at the gifts a passionately loving God has given us, but also that we will hope to give gifts in return--as lavishly as we can. Even at this first stage, Ignatius brings in the theme of magis that permeates the Exercises. For Ignatius, actions are not done merely for the glory of God, but for the greater glory of God. No matter what we do for God, we yearn to do more.9 The second stage of showing love adds presence to the gift. The Giver does not simply hand over the gift and then leave, but remains present in the gift and is present to the recipient opening it. Review for Religious The third stage of showing love adds personal inter-action with the gift and with the recipient. The Giver does not merely stand by as the beloved opens the gift, but interacts with the gift and the person, perhaps by subtly showing him or her how the gift operates or can be used. The fourth stage of showing love goes much further. It is about sharing oneself--becoming one with the beloved. That is, (1) the tangible gift, (2) the divine presence, and (3) the divine interaction with the recipient indicate (4) that God wants to share the divine Life with the beloved's life; there is a bonding. In this contemplation we do not observe and reflect on these four stages of loving only to unite us and God in a kind of private spiritual communion. Such commu-nion is a wonderful thing, but it is only a preliminary result. Ignatius wants more. He wants us to be with God while these four ways of God loving us and all of creation are being shown to us, and then he wants us to ask God what, in a similar fourfold manner, God has in mind for us to do. This goes beyond a spiritual-ity focused simply on "me and God." It stretches us to include all human beings and all creation in our four stages of loving. Inspiring Teilhard de Chardin The Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin dedicated his revolutionary spirituality book The Divine Milieu "to those who love the world."1° Teilhard, a true son of Ignatius and pray-er of the Contemplatio, saw no con-tradiction between loving God with all our heart and soul and loving the human family and all of creation with all our heart and soul. For Teilhard, the human family and all of creation were, in fact, the living Body 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem of the Cosmic Christ. To love that Body is to love its Head, for the two are one being. The Divine Milieu can be summed up as a spirituality that shows us, as Ignatius would say, how "to find God in all things." Teilhard's spirituality begins with the Contemplatio and develops it to new heights. Like Ignatius, Teilhard would have us not avoid the world or try to withdraw from it (as many traditional spiritualities would have us do), but plunge into it with mind and heart for love of Christ. George Aschenbrenner, like most contemporary skilled and experienced interpreters of the Exercises, has been influenced consciously or unconsciously by Teilhard's thought on the integration of the sacred and the secular. It is a stretch to believe that Ignatius could have written in the 16th century the following para-graph of Aschenbrenner's, but he would have if alive today: The Ignatian pilgrim mysticism of service finds God in all things by entering carefully into the tangled human situation rather than by withdrawing from it. The special contemplative nature of this expe-rience [the Contemplatio] makes the service always radically religious, however secular it may appear. This radically grateful religious service can heal the sacred-secular split in your experience that often saps apostolic energy. ~l This perspective of finding and loving God in all things permeates the four stages of the Ignatian Contemplatio. To forget this "all things" perspective is to miss the grandeur and greatness of God's salvific plan for his creation. The First Stage of Loving: Giving Gifts At the first stage of the Contemplatio, Ignatius tells us that God gives gifts. He has said that love is shown Review for Religious in action. Giving gifts is an action; it is more than words. All of creation is God's gift to us. Creation is the Original Blessing. Teilhard would tell us to begin to list these divine gifts that science has revealed to us--including gifts that Ignatius in his day had litde or no awareness of, or of how and when they were given. For example, Ignatius had no sense of the vastness and almost fourteen-bil-lion- year existence of the universe with its galaxies, stars, planets--many hundreds of billions of them. Today, with the help of science in all its forms, we have come to recognize that God's original act of cre-ation has been continually evolving. Original simple particles at the Big Bang were attracted to other par-ticles to form connections and unions. As these new unions kept attracting other unions, creation evolved to higher levels of complexity. New chemical elements, more complex than those before, kept appearing. Over eons insects, fish, reptiles, plants, grasses, trees, and ani-mals appeared. Finally, hominids evolved. Over many hundred thousands of years, and before homo sapiens, many hominid forms came into existence and then became extinct. Eventually humans created language, art, and music, forms of government, science, literature, and all the other elements of civilization and culture. And still evolution continues. Even St. Paul recognized that divine creation is still incomplete, still in process.12 Through discoveries in science and technology, we have come to recognize in our limited way the fundamental law driving evolution-ary creation--another gift of God. We have come to recognize the evolutionary law of attraction-connec-tion- complexity-consciousness that God has placed in every particle he created, and that this law is designed to 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem culminate in the spiritualization of all matter.~3 Through our faith we believe that all creation lives in, with, and through God in a divine milieu, and that there is noth-ing outside this divine milieu.~4 On the microscopic side, science has revealed the incredible complexity and activ-ity of each living being--the human genome, the tril-lions of cells that live in our bodies, each with its own highly complex intra-active life. Ignatius, of course, recognizes the gift of Earth itself, and so do we: all the beauties of mountains, plains, and skies, all the power of tornadoes, hurri-canes, tidal waves, floods, deserts, and frozen tundra. Nor can we forget the gifts humans have been able to give to each other and back to God, gifts such as civi-lization, music, art, literature, society, communication, transporta-tion, recreation, science, mathematics, architecture, entertainment, film, radio, television, computers. The technologies developed in the past century would have astounded Ignatius. We can add to Ignatius's list all the gifts we have personally received--family, talents, skills, education, opportunities, friends. Along with these are our five senses, our memory, intelligence, and willpower, our freedom to love and make commitments, our accom-plishments, our team building, our worship. For Ignatius, these four capacities of the human mind and, spirit. liberty, memory, understanding/ and will-areothe greatest gift we can offer to God,, Review for Religious Ignatius created his "Take and Receive" prayer to end each of the four stages of this Contemplatio. We can see how it summarizes especially the first of the four stages of the contemplation. We bring gifts to God, the gifts of our liberty, memory, understanding, and will. They are the best of what any human possesses: "You have given them to me; I return them to you, Lord. Everything is yours. Dispose of it all according to your will. Give me the grace to love you, and that is enough for me.''Is For Ignatius, these four capacities of the human mind and spirit--liberty, memory, understand-ing, and will--are the greatest gift we can offer to God. Today a psychologist might suggest adding things such as my imagination, my creativity, my physical energy, my talents, the skills I have developed, my contacts, my influence, my financial resources, and my experience. The Second Stage of Loving: Presence At the second stage, in Ignatius's words, "I will consider how God dwells [is present] in creatures; in the elements, giving them existence; in the plants, giv-ing them life; in the animals, giving them sensation; in human beings, giving them intelligence; and finally, how in this way he dwells also in myself, giving me existence, life, sensation, and intelligence; and even further, mak-ing me his temple, since I am created as a likeness and image of the Divine Majesty" (SpEx §2 3 5). We can for-mulate a prayer appropriate to this experience of loving presence. The "Take and Receive" prayer does not quite capture literally this second stage of loving, namely, that, in response to God's loving presence to me, my own presence to God is a loving gift in return. Although, traditionally, directors suggest that the "Take and Receive" prayer be repeated at each of the four stages, 269 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Ignatius allows the retreatant to proceed "in the manner described in the first point, or in any other way I feel to be better.'n7 Perhaps such a second-stage prayer, emphasizing mutual presence, might go something like this: Just as you, God, remain present in your gifts--giv-ing them existence, life, and purpose--and just as you remain present to me, I choose to remain actively pres-ent in the gifts I offer to you, God, by not wasting them or disregarding them or neglecting to use them, but rejoicing in using them for your purposes and for your greater glory. In my loving of you, I wish also to remain present to you. To do this, I beg the grace to remain conscious that I am working side by side with you and with Christ helping to build the Great Christ Body. The Third Stage of Loving: Cooperative Interaction The third stage of loving focuses on personal inter-action. In Ignatius's words, "I will consider how God labors and works for me in all the creatures on the face of the earth; that is, he acts in the manner of one who is laboring. For example, he is working in the heavens, elements, plants, fruits, catde, and all the rest--giving them their existence, conserving them, concurring with their vegetative and sensitive activities, and so forth" (SpEx §236). God keeps, acting in and through those gifts, as well as in and through the beloved. God does not just act once and then stop. God continues acting and interacting at every moment with, in, and through the gifts of creation. By that continuous action, creation grows and develops; it becomes more complex and con-tinues to evolve in consciousness. For us to love in the same interactive way, we need to keep acting and interacting with the gifts we already possess and the gifts we are still being given so as to Review for Religious help creation to grow and evolve in complexity and con-sciousness. Here it is appropriate to formulate a prayer of sustained commitment to use our gifts to grow per-sonally and to encourage similar growth in those with whom we interact. This third stage of loving invites a new stage of prayer, one of interactive commitment beyond the "Take and Receive" prayer. It might be something like this: Ever-working God, in reflecting on your almost four-teen billion years of divine revelation and original blessing, I have come to recognize the law of attrac-tion- connection-complexity-consciousness that you have placed in me and in every particle of matter you created, and that this law is designed to culminate in the spiritual transformation of all matter. Therefore I dedicate myself, for your greater glory, to growing in complexity and consciousness by working alongside others--in Christ--with those talents and gifts you have given me. I will strive to find ever-new ways to spiritualize the material things in my life. The Fourth Stage of Loving: Mutual Indwelling At the fourth stage, in Ignatius's words, "I will con-sider how all good things and gifts descend from above; for example, my limited power from the supreme and infinite power above; and so of justice, goodness, piety, mercy, and so forth--just as the rays come down from the sun, or the rains from their source" (SpEx §2 3 7). God shares the divine Self with the beloved. God does not only give gifts that are external to himself, as it were, but gives himself to us as an involved, interactive personal presence--like the sun's rays are giving us the sun itself, bringing an active and interactive presence. The incarnation of the divine Word is one way God shares the divine Self and demonstrates this fourth stage 271 68.3 2009 Savary ¯ Igngtius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 272 of loving. Christ's mystical incarnation in the Eucharist is another self-giving of God to us. In the Universal Christ we are offered a way to reciprocate this self-giv-ing love, so that with St. Paul we can say, "I no longer live, but I am alive in Christ.''7 At the fourth stage of showing love, Ignatius wants us to learn to live our day and our destiny within God the Beloved. We live out our day within and alongside our Beloved, that is, we remain present in the gifts we offer to God, acting in and through those gifts as well as in and through the Beloved. When Ignatius speaks of "finding God in all things," he is talking not about finding a mere Presence and qui-etly resting in it. That famous expression means much more. It means being with God all day long in our daily duties and activities, doing each thing with God and in God. After all, at every moment God is keeping every-thing in being, from the smallest microbe to the farthest galaxy. God and we are acting and working side by side (stage three) and as one (stage four). We are building the kingdom of God together--God in me and I in God.~8 In this way we become "contemplatives in action." As Aschenbrenner points out, "A busy disciple encounters many people in a great variety of situations, but the direct, immediate encounter is always with the Divine Majesty. A mysticism of service stretches your soul in an awareness of the fidelity of God's loving service to you.''~9 To express in prayer this fourth way of loving, we might say something like this: O Great God, I no longer wish to live and simply work for you. My deepest desire and the grace I ask is that I may live consciously in you and with you and, in Christ, that I may realize that my primary privi-lege and honor is to be a cell in the Cosmic Body of Christ. I wish to live and work no longer just as me, Review for Religious but consciously as belonging to Christ--on our way to you. I desire to know and see how the Christ Body as a whole is working toward its fulfillment, and I wish to cooperate consciously and ever more gener-ously with whatever you wish and desire. Something that has always surprised me about the Exercises is that, although Ignatian spirituality in gen-eral is quite Eucharistic,2° there is little or no mention of receiving the Eucharist or of the Eucharist's centrality in Catholic Christian liturgy and life. To me, the Eucharist provides the simplest and most profound synthesis of the Contemplatio, since it integrates simultaneously the four stages of that contemplation, namely, Eucharist as gift, presence, active working, and mutual indwelling. When the Cosmic Christ who lives today comes to the altar during the celebration of the Mass, there we find God in all things and all things in him. Notes 1 In the Latin "Versio Litteralis" of Ignatius's Spanish text of the Exercises, the Contemplatio is titled "Contemplatio ad Obtinendum Amorem." The Latin verb obtinere is not to be simply transliterated as "to obtain" or "to get," but rather means "to have" or "to possess." Interestingly, in the "Versio Vulgata" from Ignatius's lifetime, the tide is "Conwmplatio ad Amorem Spiritualem" followed by the words "in nobis excitandum" (to be aroused in us) in small print. 2 See Joseph A. Tedow SJ, Ignatius Loyola: Spiritual Exercises (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. 145. 3 George A. Aschenbrenner SJ, Stretched for Greater Glory: What to Expect from the Spiritual Exercises (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2004), p. 134. 4 Michael J. Buckley SJ, "The Contemplation to Attain Love," Way Supplement 24 (Spring 1975): 92-104. s For another development of this correlation, see Aschenbrenner, Stretched for Greater Glory, pp. 141-146. 6 SpEx §230. Unless otherwise noted, translated excerpts of the Spiritual Exercises are from George E. Ganss SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola Press, 1992). 68.3 20O9 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 7 Tedow, Ignatius, p. 145. 8 Although Tedow lists these as "four points on how God loves" (p. 145) and shows how they are distinct from each other, I feel he does not adequately show their developmental or evolutionary character. 9 In the Exercises, magis typically means choosing one of two or more authentic goods as more (magis) conducive to God's glory than the others. Once a person has chosen the magis in a major decision (such as a life path or career), magis in later retreats can pertain to whether one is continually improving one's skills, cooperation, generosity, and so forth. 10 Pierre Teilhard de Chardin SJ, The Divine Milieu (New York: Harper & Row, 1960). The complete dedication ironically juxtaposes two expressions: "Sic Deus Dilexit Mundum: For Those Who Love the World." 11 Aschenbrenner, Stretching, p. 147. 12 See Ep 1:10, Col 2:19. t3 Teilhard discusses this law extensively in his Phenomenon of Man. See also my book Teilbard de Chardin: The Divine Milieu Explained (New York: Paulist Press, 2007), esp. pp. 27ff. ~4 See Paul's speech in Ac 17:22-31. is Note that this final sentence of the Suscipe prayer, here taken from the Versio Vulgata, differs from that in the ~rsio Litteralis, which translated reads: "Give me your love and your grace, for that is enough for me." In the Vulgata, the sentence is about my love for God (that is, about learning how to love the way God loves); in the Litteralis, it is a prayer asking God to love me. See Thesaurus Spiritualis Societatis Jesu (Rome: Jesuit Curia, 1953), pp. 226-228, §234. 16 SpEx §235. In the Thesaurus Spiritualis, Father Jan Roothaan SJ, focusing in his footnote on the word "better," suggests a response dif-ferent from the "Take and Receive" prayer of the first point, a response that might better recognize the advance--the magis--reflected in this point's theme of presence. In later notes Roothaan makes similar sug-gestions, that colloquies reflect the magis, expressing increasing love in successive points. t7 See Ga 2:20. is If Ignatius were alive today, he might nuance his position to agree with many New Testament scholars who would probably use a different rhetoric here. They might want to make a distinction between building the kingdom of God and building the City of God. They would prefer to see God as the one who builds the kingdom or reign of God, with us humans offering our essential cooperation and contributions. And they Review for Religious might prefer to see us humans primarily focused on building the City of God, with God's total involvement, of course. Teilhard might solve the issue by saying that in Christ and with the Father we are together working to fulfill the divine project (the kingdom of God). In any case, Ignatius sees building the kingdom as a joint project. Also see Juan Luis Segundo, The Christ of the Ignatian Exerdses (New York: Orbis Books, 1987), pp. 90-103. ,9 Aschenbrenner, Stretching, p. 139. 20 For example, Ignatius urged members of the Society to attend Mass much more frequently than was usual in the church at that time. He celebrated Mass daily for discernment in composing the Society's Constitutions. He and his early companions took their first vows at Montmartre in Paris during Mass, and, when the Society was officially approved, they renewed their vows at Mass in St. Paul's Outside the Walls in Rome. A Prayer Response Lord, once again I ask: which is the more precious of these two beatitudes, that all things are means through which I can touch you, or that you yourself are so "universal" that I can experience you and lay hold on you in every creature? Some think to make you more lovable in my eyes by praising almost exclusively the charm and the kindness of your human face as men saw it long ago on earth. But if I sought only a human being to cherish, would I not turn to those whom you have given me here and now in all the charm of their flowering? Do we not all have around us irresistibly lovable mothers, brothers, sisters, friends? Why should we go searching the Judaea of two thousand years ago? No, what I cry out for, like every other creature, with my whole being, and even with all my passionate earthly longings, is something very different from an equal to cherish: It is a God to adore. The Divine Milieu [275 68.3 2009 Job's Difficult Transformation spiritual growth 2761 It seems that the story of Job never fails to capture readers' interest. To a greater or lesser degree, Job's experience reflects our experience. In The Book of Job,~ Stephen Mitchell provides both a dynamic introduction and a captivating translation of the biblical book. This article engages some of Mitchell's themes--such as submission, surrender, innocent suffering, pun-ishment, being a victim, and justice--as they relate to Mitchell's understanding of Job's main theme, transformation (Mitchell, p. xxix). I agree with that main theme, and I also think transformation is the theme of the sto-ries of all of us. This theme comprises and unites many other themes. Suffering--indeed, tremendous suffering--starts Job's transforma-tion and involves others: his wife and friends. Marian Maskulak CPS is an assistant professor of Theology and Religious Studies (with a special interest in spirituality) at St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Queens, New York 11439. The transformation moves from the innocent, submis-sive, and fearful Job to the rebellious and more compas-sionate Job, and it culminates in the Job who surrenders his whole being to God. Transformation requires hon-est acknowledgment of one's thoughts and feelings, and includes a growing understanding of God, oneself, and the world and a letting go of many previous ideas. Job comes to understand that limited and often narrow con-cepts of morals and justice are not to be ascribed to God, that innocent suffering is neither victimization nor punishment by a wrathful god, and that suffering and justice remain within the mystery of creation's God, for whom there is neither past nor future. The Bible's Book of Job consists of a prose prologue based on an ancient legend, the poem that constitutes the body of the book, and a prose epilogue. The pro-logue presents Job as a good, innocent, and God-fearing man who is enjoying a blessed and prosperous life. In a meeting between God and the Accuser, the latter con-tends that, if God takes away all that Job has, Job will curse God. God then allows hardship to befall Job: the loss of his children and his many possessions. Through all of this, Job remains steadfast in his conviction that God 'gave him all he had and then took it away. He lies with his face in the dust, as though prostrate before God, and blesses God. A second meeting between God and the Accuser results in God's allowing Job to be physically afflicted, short of death. Tormented from head to toe with boils, Job still refuses to curse God and maintains that, just as he has accepted good fortune from God, he must now accept bad fortune. This time Job sits in the dust. It soon comes to light that Job may better be described as a good, innocent, and "god-fearing" man who is unaware of his false conception of God. [277 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ Job's Difficult Tran~Cormation 278 The contrast between submission and surrender is important for Mitchell. The Job of the prologue "submits" to his plight, to the superior force of God. Mitchell suggests that one might agree with Job's wife who says: "How long will you go on clinging to your innocence? Curse God, and die" (pp. viii, 8). Mitchell does not develop this thought further, but it suggests two ideas to me. First, Job's wife has been suffering along with Job in "their" pain and loss. She knows that their experience of pain, sorrow, frustration, anger, and despair wants to cry out in fury. Life experience has also shown her that people who curse God do not automati-cally "die." On one level, Job's wife is challenging him to be a human being and to express his anguish and outrage. It is only by acknowledging one's true thoughts and feelings that one can appropriate them and grow. Mitchell recognizes this: "For any transformation to occur, Job has to be willing to let his hidden anxieties become manifest. He must enter the whirlwind of his own psychic chaos before he can hear the Voice" (p. ix). Second, Job's wife chailenges him by asking how long he is going to cling to his innocence. Here, perhaps, is the crux of Job's problem, as well as that of his friends. Rather than clinging to God, Job i~ clinging to "his innocence" and "his notion" of what he deserves, or how God should act because of his innocence. Job is authentically innocent, but even good qualities or prac-tices can become idolatry when they and one's own self become the focus instead of God. When Job finally cries out against God, his friends cling to this same notion that God must act in a pre-dictably benevolent way if one is truly innocent. It is as though being "innocent," being "good enough," requires God to act in cert~ain ways. This can be a disguised or Review for Religious subde way of trying to control or manipulate God. Even in the midst of his crying out, when his submissive self is left behind, Job "clings" to his innocence: "I will hold tight to my innocence; my mind will never submit" (p. 64). Ultimately God does not address Job's innocence at all. It is Job's truthfulness that God commends in the epilogue. According to Mitchell, Job's motive for goodness is, at first, fear of punishment and, after being stricken, fear of even worse consequences. Agreeing with Jung's assessment that the god of the prologue is morally infe-rior to Job, Mitchell concludes that the legend must not be taken too seriously: the god of the prologue and the Accuser are soon left behind (pp. ix-xii). Mitchell does not question why the author included the legend rather than omitting it altogether. One rea-son would be that the familiar story was a means for contrasting the poem's insights. I would suggest that the god of the prologue describes Job's god. This god, appearing as the cavalier business-god sitting at the top of the corporate ladder, is a good match for the Job whom Mitchell calls the "perfect moral business-man" (p. ix). I would also submit that this was the god of many of the author's audience as well. And since, as Mitchell points out, the patient Job of the legend rather than the desperately impatient Job of the poem became proverbial in Western culture (p. viii), it seems Even good qualities or ¯. ,practi~es can become idolatry ~, wh~en they :and one s own self ~ ~ bec~ome t~hefocus instead of God. 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ ~ob'~ Difficult Transformation that this god has remained alive and well over the cen-turies. This god of the prologue bears no resemblance to the God of creation, the God of the burning bush, the God of deliverance from Egypt, and certainly not the God of the whirlwind to be revealed. Job's wife is right. This god needs to be cursed, and that part of Job which believed in this god must surely die. Job's companions, who have appeared briefly but silently in the prologue, do not agree with Job's wife. They never abandon the god of the prologue, and so, when they do speak, they provide crucial stimulus to Job's transformation. In Mitchell's view, Job's friends are supporting actors repeating the same arguments over and over. Because Job's questioning challenges their view of God and the world, they actually speak to their own fears rather than to Job. Mitchell believes that, while defending God's justice, they show that their god is a harsh judge executing their own harsh judgments. Mitchell makes an excellent point when he states, "Any idea about God, when pursued to its extreme, becomes insanity" (pp. xiv-xv). I believe, however, that, even when not pressed to an extreme, all perceptions of God are limited. I think that Job's friends play a greater role in the poem than Mitchell assigns them. For example, they are probably articulating Job's own theology up to this point in his life. Job himself admits, "I too could say such things if you were in my position" (p. 44). Another example is that Eliphaz highlights the Jewish theme of "the victim" when he points out that Job brought relief to many others and now it is his turn to be the victim (p. 17). Reflection on this thought alone raises more ques-tions. Does Job really believe that all the many people he helped in their misery were being punished for their sins? Probably so. But will he continue to believe it? Review for Religious One's view of the suffering of others is never the same once one has to grapple with one's own suffering. Part of the transformation that takes place in Job is apparent in his focus on the suffering of human beings in gen-eral instead of on his own suffering. Does Job continue to believe that people are victims of God's wrath? Not after experiencing the God of the whirlwind. As long as Job remains silent, his friends appropri-ately and compassionately remain quiet also. But as soon as Job cries out they cry out in return. They are not able to extend their silence of the first seven days into silent compassionate listening. This calls into question the amount of true compassion in their original silence. Mitchell says they have never experienced God (p. xiii), but it may also be true that they have never experienced extreme suffering. Job does suffer severely, which leads him to question God. "His question, the harrowing question of some-one who has only heard of God, is 'Why me?'" (p. xv). Mitchell calls this the wrong question, but does not say why. I believe that the "Why me?" question is too self-centered. It places the self over and against God, rather than in relationship with God. It clings to that argument, which says, "If I am good, if I am innocent, this should not happen to me." Or more pointedly, "If I am good and innocent, you should not be doing this to me." Later Mitchell sheds light on what the "right" question would have been when he writes that a question is answered which Job "wouldn't have known how to ask. God will not hear Job, but Job will see God" (p. xviii). His "see-ing" of God might better be understood as his "experi-encing" of God. I suggest that the "right" response might be "Who are you, God? And who am I in relation to you?" Or, more simply, "Reveal yourself to me." 281 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ j~ob's Difficult Transformation Anger or hate can ,be indicative of an underlying love. 2821 Mitchell claims that Job's outrage could not be so intense if he did not truly love God. He does not say whether he thinks the "moral businessman" of the pro-logue loves God. Rather, he compares Job to Othello, whose honesty cannot deny betrayal and whose love cannot believe it. Job accuses God for the injustice in the world, yet he senses some kind of ultimate justice (p. xvii). I agree that Job loves God. If Job did not care about God, he would not go on and on crying out. As Elie Wiesel has pointed out, indif-ference is more dan-gerous than hatred or anger.2 In a rela-tionship, anger or hate can be indica-tive of an underlying love that a person wants to be restored. As he cries out to God, Job is far from being indifferent. But, more importantly, Job is beginning to trust in God's love for him. Once the Job of the poem starts speaking out, he realizes that God is not punishing him for his accusa-tions. This gives him courage to become even bolder and more authentic. Although .it is not articulated in the poem, I believe that Job's love for God and his growing understanding of God's love for him are a crucial part of his transformation. God's response to this developing love is not, as has sometimes been perceived, the demand of unques-tioning submission. Mitchell rejects the interpretation which summarizes God's response from the whirlwind as "How dare you question the creator of the world? Shut up now, and submit" (p. xviii). He contends that there are answers to human suffering beyond theological Review for Religious propositions, but that the questioner must let them in. For Mitchell, the only answers to the great questions of life and death are personal ones, because the whole being of the person is involved (pp. xviii-xix). This is similar to Viktor Franld's belief that each person must find his or her own meaning in life, and his or her own meaning in suffering too.3 God's questions from the whirlwind ultimately dissi-pate all that Job thought he knew. "In order to approach God, Job has to let go of all ideas about God" (p. fix). Mitchell further understands God's questions as provid-ing Job with a vision filled with primal energy. It is a God's-eye view of creation before [human beings], beyond good and evil, marked by the inno-cence of mind that has stepped outside the circle of human values . What the Voice means is that para-dise isn't situated in the past or future, and doesn't require a world tamed or edited by the moral sense. It is our world, when we perceive it clearly, without eat-ing from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It is an experience of Sabbath vision: looking at reality, the world of starving children and nuclear menace, and recognizing that it is very good (pp. xx-xxi). Upon my initial reading, this last statement par-ticularly came as a shock. My reaction was "No, the world of starving children and nuclear menace is not good!" I want to compartmentalize and say that the world as God made it is good, but children's starvation and nuclear menace in themselves are not good. Only by God's grace can they become the occasion for good. Mitchell seems to agree somewhat when he later writes that someone "who hungers and thirsts after justice is not satisfied with a menu. It is not enough for him to hope or believe or know that there is absolute justice in the universe: he must taste and see it. It is not enough 283 68.3 2009 Maskulak * ~ob's Difficult TransJbrmation 284 that there may be justice someday in the golden haze of the future: it must be now; must always have been now" (p. xxviii). Between his paragraph above and the sentence just above, Mitchell says there are no accidents and no vic-tims. He believes that, rather than being cruel, his state-ment reflects that, when one surrenders one's personal will and thus can see that all that God created is good, the past and future disappear (p. xxvii). This surrender to God is a surrender into mystery. He gives no other answer for why the innocent suffer. I can understand that from his chosen vantage point he can "see" that reality as a timeless whole is good--even with all its violence, starvation, nuclear menace, and so forth. But I still maintain that violence, the starvation of children, and nuclear menace are not good. Mitchell is bold and precise in his paraphrasing of questions about good and evil posed by God's voice in the whirlwind: "Do you really want this moral sense of yours projected onto the universe? it asks, in effect. Do you want a god who is only a larger version of a righteous judge, rewarding those who don't realize that virtue is its own reward and throwing the wicked into a physical hell? If that's the kind of justice you're look-ing for, you'll have to create it yourself. Because that is not my justice" (p. xxiii). These words make it clear that Mitchell believes that limited or narrow human concepts of morals and justice are not to be placed on God. An example that comes to mind is the parable of the vineyard workers, in which all receive the same wage regardless of how long they worked (Mt 20:1-16). Human "justice" might overlook the broader plight of those left in the marketplace all day with no work (perhaps because they appeared to be the least capable Reviev for Religious workers), who nevertheless needed to provide for them-selves and their families. In other words, human "jus-tice" often lacks compassion and a wider perspective. Mitchell states that the Beast and the Serpent in the final section of the poem are presented as God's playthings and that they challenge those who do not acknowledge God's destructive side (pp. xxiii-xxiv). This calls to mind the passage: "All you beasts, wild and tame, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever" . (Dn 3:81 NAB). Creation praises God by simply being what it is, and some of creation can be quite violent or devastating. What are the effects of Job's experience of God in the whirlwind? Does he repent? Does he submit? Mitchell disagrees with (mis-)translations of Job's final speech which have him say he "abhors" himself and "repents" in dust and ashes. He maintains that the idea conveyed is that Job "rejects" everything he said, and is "comforted by" his mortality. (pp. xxv, xxxii). Having received his answer, Job is "awe-stricken in the face of overwhelming beauty and dread" (p. xxvi). Rather than "submission," Mitchell stresses that Job's words rise from "surrender"--"a wholehearted giving-up of one-self" (p. xxvii). Surrendering oneself to God is indeed a strong act of one's free will. In the prose epilogue, Mitchell notes that Job's chil-dren appear to be the same children as in the prologue, as though they have sprung back to life (p. xxix). In Creation praises God by simply being what it is, and some of creation can be quite violent or devastating. 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ ~ob's Difficult Transformation 28_61 my reflection on the epilogue, a similar thought came to me via a line from Viktor Frankh "What you have experienced, no power on earth can take from you.''4 During times of suffering, human beings tend to focus entirely on their pain, loss, and so forth. This is not to deny the very real need for people to grieve their losses and attend to their pain. But at some point, in order to "move on," there needs to be a shift in the focus. I believe that, despite actual loss, whatever good some-one "had" he or she somehow still "has." One's experi-ences of good people and good things remain part of one's being, part of who one "is." Job's fulfillment does not depend on the actual reappearance of his children. He has seen and understood the "bigger picture" of life. One might challenge this view by saying that it then follows that the bad or evil of a person's life also still remains part of who he or she is. I would argue, from the philosophical axiom that bad or evil itself is a "lack," that a person never "had" something which was itself a "lack." Finally, Mitchell notes the prominence of Job's daughters in the epilogue, suggesting a shift from the righteousness and control of the male world to the beauty and peace of the feminine. Interestingly enough, he believes that the feminine, which had been denigrated in the prologue's reference to Job's wife, is now acknowledged and honored in the epilogue (p. xxx). This brings me back to my suggestion that there may be more to the advice given by Job's wife than first meets the eye. Upon reading the prologue one might ask, "Who needs a wife like that?" It seems that the answer may be "Everybody." Why? To challenge us to leave the narrow confines of our comfortable, even if good, perceptions of ourselves, others, life, and God, in Review for Religious order to grow and to be transformed into the fullness of being to which God calls us. The story of Job is a story of transformation--a story of surrender, a story of letting go. Job has to let go of people and possessions very dear to him, he has to let go of his own health, and, perhaps most difficult for a good and innocent person who loves God, he has to let go of his image and understanding of God. Each of these movements entails a considerable amount of suffering. Job's transformation unfolds through his suffering, his interaction with his wife and friends, and his honest acknowledgment of his own convictions and feelings in relation to God. The culmination is his unexpected face-to- face encounter with God. This encounter causes Job to surrender to God and to reject his notions that suffer-ing is punishment for sin or victimization by a wrathful god. The reader senses that Job leaves his encounter with God as a changed person, and full of peace. Yet one still wants to ask, "So what is the reason for innocent suffering?" Job is content, but why aren't we? Could it be that the answer is revealed only to one who, like Job, has truly grappled with suffering and with God? Would it have been enough for Job to discover that human suppositions regarding innocent suffering are incorrect? Would it be enough for anyone? What is the "pull," the fascination, of this "wrong question" when the answer seems to lie instead in a vivid encoun-ter with God that leads to complete surrender? God's speech began with: "Who is this whose igno-rant words smear my design with darkness?" (p. 79). In another context dealing with relationship, Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry writes, "Words are the source of mis-understandings.'' 5 There is more to life and suffering than words can explain. The "more" involves a personal 287 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ Job's Difficult Transformation encounter with God in which all other considerations become secondary. God invites us into that personal encounter by way of transformation and surrender. God is. We need not fear. God knows the why of suffering. For God all things, all times, all places, are. In that mys-tery, all of God's creation is very good. Notes I Stephen Mitchell, The Book of Job (New York: Harper Perennial, 1992). 2 Elie Wiesel, "The Perils of Indifference," 12 April 1999, The Official Site of the Presidential Medal of Freedom. ~ Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York: Washington Square Press, 1984): see pp. 121,131. 4 Frankl, p. 104; see also p. 175. s Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry, The Little Prince (New York: Harcourt Brace and Co., 1971), p. 70. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. Give myself the project of reading the Book of Job. 2. Do you find Maskulak's way of understanding Job a help in you own relationship with God? Review for Religious JAMES W. KINN The Central Paradox of John of the Cross ;all of John of the Cross's works, one unique para-raph is critical for our understanding of his entire teaching about the beginning of contemplation. This one paragraph, containing three paradoxes, gives us an insight into his central teaching on contemplation and will act as an outline for this article: Even though this happy night [of contemplation] dark-ens the spirit, it does so only to impart light. ; and even though it humbles a person and reveals his mis-eries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes and empties him of all., natural affec-tions, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things.I John is teaching here about the passive dark night of the spirit or contemplation. The three paradoxes are: darkness leads to light, lowliness leads to rising up, and emptiness leads to fullness. He wants us to know that James W. Kinn, still an actively retired priest, writes again about John. His address remains 6318 243rd Court; Salem, Wisconsin 53168. 68.3 2009 Kinn ¯ Tbe Central Paradox of Jobn of tbe Cross 290 contemplation darkens, humbles, and empties our soul only to enlighten, to exalt, and to fill the soul. Once we grasp this one central teaching, we can understand the heart of John's teaching on the practice of contemplation. For Those at the Threshold of Contemplation John offers teaching for "proficients, at the begin-ning of their entry into . . . contemplation.''2 These "proficients" have been practicing discursive medi-tation, but now often find they are void of sensible images, imaginings, affections, and reasoning. He has just described his famous three signs for discontinuing discursive meditation: (1) one often or regularly can-not make discursive meditation, (2) one is disinclined to concentrate on sensible objects or ideas, (3) one is inclined to remain alone in loving attention on God even though the experience is dark and unsatisfying. Today that group of people would include many who are practicing simple prayer or the prayer of presence or centering prayer or praying with a sacred word or mantra. John gives a general description of what is some-times or often experienced by people who pray in these ways l At the beginning of this state the loving knowledge [of God] is almost unnoticeable. There are two rea-sons for this: first, the incipient loving knowledge is extremely subtle and delicate, and almost impercep-tible; second, a person who is habituated to the exer-cise of meditation, which is wholly sensible, hardly perceives or feels this new insensible, purely spiritual experience.3 Persons like this are at the very threshold of contempla-tion, or occasionally practice it. First, John assures them that this darkness leads to light: "As soon as natural Review for Religious things are driven out of the enamored soul, the divine are naturally and supernaturally infused, since there can be no void in nature.''4 Here John teaches that, as soon as natural thoughts and sensible images no longer occupy us in prayer, God will infuse his supernatural light into us. He assures us that, once a natural void is created, it will be filled with the action of God. This image of filling the void seems particularly forceful in our day. We are familiar with vacuum-packed coffee cans and know that as soon as we puncture the lid the outside atmosphere fills the void with a hiss. In a simi-lar way, once our prayer becomes dark or empty of all sensible images, God will fill the void with his infused grace--though the light may only be "extremely subtle and delicate" for a while. Second, John assures them that God humbles the soul only to exalt it: If a person will eliminate these impediments., void-ing himself of all forms and apprehensible images . ¯ . and [will] live in pure nakedness and poverty of spirit . . . his soul in its simplicity and purity will then be immediately transformed into simple and pure Wisdom . 5 That is, because the soul can no longer pray with the sensible images and insights of discursive meditation, it recognizes its own inability and poverty of spirit. But God will soon instruct it with his own wisdom in con-templation and so raise it up. Third, John assures them that emptiness leads to fullness: When the spiritual person cannot meditate, he should learn to remain in God's presence . . . even though he seems to himself to be idle. For little by litde and very soon the divine calm and peace with a wondrous, 68.3 2009 Kinn ¯ The Central Paradox of Jobn of the Cross sublime knowledge of God . . . will be infused into his soul . Learn to be empty of all things--inte-riorly and exteriorly--and you will behold that I am God.6 This dark and empty prayer is filled with promise, For John, emptiness of all sensible images, rational thoughts, and affections is required so that God may freely communicate himself to the soul. He promises that God will not fail to do his part and bring the soul to enjoy a new way of experiencing him. Note that all his counsel here deals with those who are at the threshold of con-templation. That is, they have reached the point where discursive medi-tation has become dark and empty. At times they may experience the beginning of contemplation, but it is usually slight and subde. What does all this mean for all of us who are in this stage of prayer? John wants us to know that this dark and empty prayer is filled with promise: ¯ He assures us that we can be content in such dark and unsatisfying prayer, for "there can be no void in nature." He means that the very darkness is the neces-sary condition for God's supernatural way of acting in our prayer. ¯ And we can be peaceful even though we can no lon-ger pray with the insights and affections we experienced in discursive meditation. Just because we are convinced of our "lowliness and misery" and find "no satisfaction in self," God esteems this lack of self-satisfaction and is ready to instruct us in his wisdom. ¯ And we can be confident even though we are empty Review for Religious and helpless, because such emptiness of sensible images, rational thoughts, and affections is required for God to communicate himself to us. "Learn to be empty of all things., and you will behold that I am God." For Those Beginning to Practice Contemplation In The Dark Night John explains why this dark night of contemplation must first darken, humble, and empty the soul before it can enlighten, exalt, and fill the soul. The affections, sentiments, and apprehensions [of contemplation] are of another sort and are so eminent and so different from [those experienced naturally in discursive meditation] that their . . . possession demands the annihilation and expulsion of the natural affections and apprehensions; for two contraries cannot coexist in one subject. Hence. this dark night of con-templation must necessarily annihilate [the soul] first and undo it in its lowly ways by putting it in dark-ness, dryness, conflict, and emptiness. For the light imparted to the soul . . . transcends all natural light and does not belong naturally to the intellect.7 His argument is straightforward: "two contraries can-not exist in one subject" at the same time. Therefore, "this dark night of contemplation must necessarily. undo [the soul] in its lowly ways by putting it in darkness ¯ . . and emptiness. For the [divine] light transcends all natural light." That is, the normal way for our intellect to operate is by means of sensible objects, but in con-templation God affects the soul directly, without sen-sible images¯ A few chapters later John describes his first paradox: this darkness leads to light: When you see your., faculties incapacitated for any interior exercise, do not be afflicted; think of this as a grace, since God is freeing you from yourself [so that now] God takes you by the hand and guides you in [ 293 68.3 2009 Kinn * The Central Paradox of yobn of the Cross 294 darkness, as though you were blind, along a way and to a place you do not know.s He immediately adds that you will succeed "in reach-ing this place," where the light "transcends all natural light." The second paradox is that God humbles the soul in order to exalt it. John insists that this humility and pov-erty of spirit leads to exaltation by God: The soul must first be set in emptiness and poverty of spirit . Thus empty, it is truly poor . . . and thereby able to live that new and blessed life which is the state of union with God, attained by means of this night.9 That is, humility and "poverty of spirit" will lead to the union with God that is our exaltation. The third paradox is that emptiness leads to fullness. The best quote for this is in The Living Flame:~° When the soul frees itself of all things and attains to emptiness., concerning them, which is equivalent to what it can do of itself, it is impossible that God fail to do his part by communicating himself to it, at least secretly and silendy.~ Here John guarantees that, as long as the soul is empty and passive, God will do his part soon and without fail. So, though the soul is passive and empty, it can be con-fident that the emptiness will result in God's presence and light. What does all this mean for us as we begin to prac-tice contemplation? John's answer is found in the cen-tral quote we are focused on: Even though this happy night darkens the spirit, it does so only to impart light. ; and even though it humbles a person and reveals his miseries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes Re-view for Religious and empties him of all., natural affection, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things.12 Above, when John was speaking about those on the threshold of contemplation who simply could no lon-ger pray with discursive meditation, he assured them that even then this natural stage of prayer is filled with promise, for such dark and empty prayer is the neces-sary condition for God's supernatural way of acting in our prayer. He wanted them to know, even then, that as soon as they create this natural void God will soon fill that void with his presence. But now John's counsel is for those who are actually beginning to practice contemplation. His counsel clearly parallels his advice regarding that earlier stage of prayer. But here the darkness and emptiness are not just natural effects of ordinary prayer. Rather, for those beginning to practice contemplation, the very nature of contempla-tion is such that it increases the darkness and emptiness in three ways: (1) this dark night "darkens the spirit" so that no sensible objects ,. or thoughts can occupy the --~ mind or distract it; (2) it "humbles the person" with a sense of his own incapacity and poverty of spirit; (3) it "empties him of all natural affections" for material things. That is why the darker the night, the more receptive we are to God's light, and the more we know our poverty, the more open we are to God's power, and the more empty we are, the more we can passively await God's fullness. .i The .darker the night, ithe more receptive we are God's light. 68.t 2009 Kdnn ¯ The Central Paradox of John of the Cross 296 The second part of these three counsels is entirely positive and filled with promise. John assures us that the darkness is only to impart light, the sense of lowliness is only to exalt us, and the emptiness is only to fill us with God's presence. Summing up: , ¯ The purpose of the darkness of contemplation is so that God can take us by the hand and impart a light that "transcends all natural light." ¯ The purpose of the poverty of spirit is so that God can raise us up to a new union with him. ¯ The purpose of the emptiness we feel regarding all we can do by our ordinary prayer is so that God may do his part "by communicating himself to [us], at least secretly and silently." Such is the genius of John of the Cross's counsel for us at the beginning of contemplation. This triple para-dox permits us to be content in the darkness, because that is the necessary condition for God's supernatural light; we can be peaceful in our poverty of spirit, for "there can be no void in nature," no vacuum in super-nature; we can be confident in our emptiness for "it is impossible that God fail to do his part by communicat-ing himself to [us], at least secretly and silently." Notes Dark Night, 2.9.1. Ascent, 2.15, chapter tide and paragraph I. Ascent, 2.13.7. Ascent, 2.15.4. Ascent, 2.15.4. Ascent, 2.15.5. Dark Night, 2.9.2 (emphasis added). Dark Night, 2.16.7. Dark Night, 2.9.4. Review for Religious ~0 Living Flame, 3.30-62. Throughout this section, John of the Cross is instructing spiritual directors how to help those who are beginning to practice contemplation, when "God begins to wean the soul., and place it in the state of contemplation." '~ Living Flame, 3.46 ~2 Dark Night, 2.9.1. "kecharitom~ne" the word he spoke was redolent and to hear his voice was to be cut with scent knelt before my feet, his head was bent his speech and manner fragrant .for love he said he had been sent and this the promise immanent grace and joy are yours, but with lament his words like light caressed my ear it was as if my heart could smell and hear as if each sense were all and each was clear as if I were unclothed and my skin was sheer though in his presence I knew not shame nor fear what strength and sweetness was to me so near but in his eyes like stars there stood a tear far more than joy he said is yours to know and if all generations on your name bestow praise and honor in heaven high and earth below it is because your pierced heart will show the thoughts of many, both swift and slow, for from your flesh His bones shall grow and from your milk His blood will flow Sean Edward Kinsella [-297 68.t 2009 JOHN H. ZUPEZ Connecting through Prayer ~di~all find ourselves in the dumps at times, feeling connected from others. Perhaps this is our usual feeling when we wake up in the morning and have not yet consciously made any "connect" with God or with others. And there are specific incidents that leave us alienated, adrift in spirit: when we are misunder-stood or ignored by others, when we offend others and have no immediate opportunity to reconcile with them, when our selfish behavior alienates us from the Spirit within us. Morning prayer with the church has traditionally served as a connect for Christians. When it is celebrated in common, we experience the Christian communi-ty's support. Or, when said in a meditative manner, it becomes a connect with God, as it did for the early monks who lived in the desert, largely devoid of human 2981 John H. Zupez SJ wrote on petitionary prayer in our May-June 1992 issue. In recent years he has taught in seminaries in Nigeria and Zimbabwe. He was recently appointed pastor of Corpus Christi Church; 1005 N.E. 15th Street; Oklahoma City, Oklahoma 73117. Review f~ Religious contacts. But, said alone and quickly, it may not produce the intended effect of connecting us to what is most enduring and nourishing in our faith. Married people can find in their intimate relation-ship a deep connect. St. Paul used this relationship as a model for the connect between Christ and his "bride," the church. However, just as married love grows cold at times, so our relationship with the church does not always give us a sense of intimacy with Christ. Prayer That Connects At times of disconnect we may find prayer difficult, but it depends on how we pray. As our relationship with God matures, prayer becomes less a matter of running through prayers vocally or trying to influence God through petitions. It becomes more a reflection on how near God is to us. The words of most prayers do not mention explicidy our connectedness to God or to one another, but the connect is implicit. I suggest that we benefit by making it more explicit. We can pray in a way that makes conscious our connectedness to other people and to a world which we know in faith to be filled with divine meaning and purpose. Thus prayer becomes an antidote for the loneliness that assails us when we feel disconnected: cold, dry, alienated, "in the dumps." For instance, when saying the Our Father, we can pause to reflect on the richness of the word "our." In faith we know that every person is our brother or sis-ter since we are related through Jesus, our brother. We know, too, that all that God has made, everything around us, is for our use and enjoyment, a loving father's gifts to us personally. Then the next word, "Father," bespeaks the warmth of the Father's love revealed in the father of the Prodigal and also in Jesus himself, the 68.3 2009 Zupez * Conneaingthrough Prayer Good Shepherd, like us in all but sin, bearing lost sheep and all his crosses so that we may feel closer to him in times of difficulty. The rest of the Our Father elaborates on attitudes that follow from our being children of a loving God, attitudes that connect us to God's coming kingdom, to God's will for us, to God's beneficence in satisfying our needs, and to God's immediate presence to us in moments when we need forgiveness. The simple words "Our Father" become rich in connotation as we reflect on who this Father is and on how everything is ours in Jesus Christ, who came to restore all things to God. Similar reflection turns all of our prayer into a con-scious connect with God and with our neighbor. This connect is facilitated by the deeper insight that passes into our prayer from more relaxed reflection, as on days of recollection or during times of spiritual retreat. Morning Offering The more reflective approach to pr

Issue 67.1 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; Mission Praye~r Consecrated Life Spiritual Supports QUARTERLY 67.'I 2008 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul V! said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ \Veb site: www.reviewforreligious.org 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 McD6nough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2008 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distrihution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such perntission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 67.1 2008 contents prisms 4 Prisms 13 23 mission Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mission James P. McCloskey CSSP envisions creating an experience of "common ground" among people of goodwill within religious congregations about the many issues that cause division. Personal/Group Reflection Questions An "Asian" Meditation on the Gift of Mission James H. Kroeger MM reflects on the "mission motive" mentioned first by the Federation of Asian Bishops Conference: a deep sense of gratitude to God. prayer A Dream, Ash Wednesday, .and the Word Godelieve Theys OCSO shares a dream that has profound implications for finding God's Word alive and powerful, having always new things to say. Pedagogy of Prayer Jghn Carroll Futrell SJ reviews many aspects of our Christian prayer and suggests practical ways of making our lives more prayer-filled. Personal/Group Reflection Questions Pray Passionately Brendan Kneale FSC addresses the need to bring to our prayers a passion of the sort found in the wording of many Psalms. Revie~v for Religious 54 6O 67 consecrated life 0 The Institute of Impracticalities: The Financial Support of Monasteries Clifford Stevens cautions that, as soon as the mere support of the monastery becomes the primary concern, "practicality" takes over and Divine Providence goes right out the window. Enclosure and Other Ways to Widen One's Horizons M. Regina van den Berg FSGM argues that the experiences that travel and the media make possible are often escapes from reality, while the limited environment of the enclosure can widen our horizons. Religious Brotherhood Today Anthony Malaviaratchi CSSR sets. forth the challenges facing religious brothers' congregations, especially within the South Asian context. 74 85 spiritual supports Room for Sacramental Reconciliation? Vincent Genovesi SJ presents a solid theological and pastoral response to the questions raised about the usefulness or necessity of the rite of reconciliation. Personal/Group Reflection Questions Mentors Mentored: Spiritual Companionship with a Saint Lou Ella Hickman IWBS shares her experience of choosing St. Edith Stein to be her mentor as she mentors others on their spiritual journey. departments 89 Scripture Scope: Reading the Sermon on the Mount 94 Canonical Counsel: Personal Records of Community Members 100 Book Reviews 67.1 2008 prisms As we move eight years into the 21st century, we could well take stock of how we are measuring up to the vision and mission set before us by John Paul II's apostolic letter "At the begin-ning of the new millennium." As the pope noted, we are not in the peren-nial process of inventing a new program each year or even each century. The program consists in the plan found in the Gospel and in the liv-ing tradition of the church. "It has its center in Christ himself, who is to be known, loved, and imitated so that in him we may live the life of the Trinity and with him transform history until its fulfillment in the heavenly Jerusalem." But this Gospel program has to be translated into pastoral initiatives that are adapted to the circumstances of each local church and each local religious com-munity. That is the action call as we begin anew with the favor of another year. Where do we begin? There can be no other beginning than the challenge issued by Vatican II's Lumen gentium, chapter 5: the universal call to holiness. All our pastoral planning, all our religious renewal efforts, all our peace and jus-tice endeavors are measured by the clarity of our focus on holiness. In the way we live and in what we do, the question is most realistic and practical: Do we want to become holy? Is that our desire for others? There can be no growth in holiness without our entering more fully into a learning how to pray. While a widespread interest in spirituali- Review for Religious ties and spiritual practices is a contemporary phenomenon, the foundation remains a personal prayer life. Prayer, even in its most contemplative and cloistered forms, opens our hearts simultaneously to the love of God and to the love of our brothers and sisters. It is our Christian prayer that enables us to be shapers of movements and events in our local situation and sometimes even more widely in the world. It is prayer that roots us in the truth that "without Me, you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5). When we pray, we acknowledge the primacy of Christ and, in union with him, the primacy of the interior life and of holiness. Prayer itself needs to be nourished consistendy with a listening to the Word of God. As we continue to steep ourselves in Scripture, we find ourselves warming to the passion of sharing the Good News. This passion leads to a new sense of mission--mission not reserved to specialists or to lands different from our own. Yet witnessing to our faith vision must happen within a context of sensitivity to the differ-ent religious and value paths of our fellow citizens and to the diversity of cultures present within our own country in which the Christian message is expressed. In challenging all of us ordinary Christians, the pope writes: "A new apos-tolic outreach is needed which will be lived as the everyday commitment of Christian communities ahd groups." As Vatican II's Gaudium et spes §34 says, "The Christian message does not inhibit men and women from building up the world or make them disinterested in the welfare ofotheir fellow human beings: On the contrary, it obliges them more fully to do these very things." Review for Religious is privileged to play its part, through its many authors, in sharing insights and encouraging practices for this Christian mission. David L. Fleming SJ 67.1 2008 mission JAMES P. Mc CLOSKEY Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mission Ensnarled in traffic on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, I began to listen to a radio talk pro-gram more intendy than usual. I'was searching for words of consolation on a long and tedious drive. What I found was a fascinating--and stirring--discussion about reconciliation. The topic was abortion, but the focus of the discus-sion was the search for "common ground." The hour-long program was a recapitula-tion of meetings that occurred during the past year. The meetings were organized by women who had opposing positions on the issue of aborti6n. Representatives of both groups described themselves as feminists. The partici-pants in the year-long discussion were women accustomed to the public forum. That is, they were intelligent and articulate spokespersons James P. McCloskey CSSp writes from Congregazione dello Spirito Santo; Clivo di Cinna, 195; Roma 00136; Italy. Review for Religious for "pro-life" and "pro-choice" positions. During the year there had been unsuccessful attempts by some to cancel the series of meetings, angry leaks to the press about the discussions, and genuine fearfulness on both sides. But the meetings took place. And the result was extraordinary. Women who did not accept the position of other women who, in their opinion, allowed the law to regu-late their bodies listened nevertheless with compassion as their colleagues recounted their religious-faith con-victions, their differing understandings of the human person, and ~their simple--and different--biological beliefs. Other women, who could not theretofore abide the notion that females could terminate what they believed to be a human life within them, responded with empathy towards women whose scientific and human-istic principles were simply different from their own. In the end, members of neither group changed their positions. But also, in the end, members of both groups grew in respect and compassion for their "opponents." They achieved a form of "common ground" that will serve as the basis for future relationship and conversa-tion between them. Not for discussion of abortion do I raise this exam-ple, but as a way of envisioning and creating a similar experience of "common ground" among p~ople of good-will within religious congregations that were founded for mission and for service to the poor. The existence of multiple cultures within congregations, mirroring the multiple cultures within the Catholic Church, is evident. These cultures are related to the different languages, tribes, national identities, and ages within the congre-gations, but they are not confined to them. The social scientist Edgar Schein defines culture as "the deeper 67.1 2008 McCloskey * Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mission level of basic assumptions and beliefs that are shared by members of an organization, that operate unconsciously, and that define in a basic 'taken-for-granted' fashion an organization's view of itself and its environment."1 In Schein's view the most useful way to think about culture is to imagine it as "the accumulated shared learning of a given group, covering behavioral, emotional, and cogni-tive elements of the group members' total psychological functioning.''2 Since the publication of Schein's work, the under-standing and perception that most members of an orga-nization share the same cultural viewpoint has moved toward an awareness that many organizations contain multiple cultures or subcultures. Noting that some orga-nizations may have only fragmented, disjointed cultures, Joanne Martin has asked whether culture needs to be something internally consistent, or whether it can be inconsistent and expressive of difference. Can it incor-porate confusion, ignorance, paradox, and fragmenta-tion? What are the boundaries around culture, and how do cultures change?3 By multiple cultures within a religious congrega-tion, I mean the presence of differing and sometimes opposing worldviews under the umbrella of having been founded for a single purpose and with a single Rule of Life. Similarly, among Catholics in general, some define themselves as God's "pilgrim people," a term that implies moving towards the kingdom of God but not yet achieving it. Others think of the church as the kingdom of God here on earth. These different understandings translate into different understandings of morality, sac-ramental life, liturgy, and hierarchy. They are some-times called differences of "style," but they are more profound than that. Review for Religqous In religious missionary congregations, founded for "the spread of the gospel to those who have not yet heard it," it is no wonder that multiple cultures are the order of the day. On a large scale, those differences are racial, linguistic, ideological, generational, and ecclesi-astical. We make national and tribal attempts at "enculturation" of the life of our congregation and its values within a particular set-ting, translating ideals into prac-tice- often with success but not always. Within our congrega-tion's American subculture, mul-tiple differences of culture, are often experienced just as acutely and intensely as in international subcultures. Even in the "real 'life" of persons in one community, such as the same parish or school, different worldviews emerge that challenge common living. Recently, in a community-room conversation, a priest said, "It is impossible to be both Republican and Spiritan." He said it with the force of true conviction, and the Republican Spiritans in the room grew silent and began to seethe. In one prov-ince there are celebrations of the Tridentine liturgy, and there are those who question whether the celebration of daily Eucharist is ideal--or even spiritually healthy. The understanding and perception that most members of an organization share the same cultural viewpoint has moved toward an awareness ,that, many organizations contain multip!~e cultures or Subcultures. 67.1 2008 McCloskey * Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mis~ion There are liberals, conservatives, social activists, phi-losophers, and papists. A morley--and gracedmcrew! Undercurrents of cultural difference emerge in quiet discussions concerning the role of lay associates in the congregation; concerning the rising influence of the "southern" provinces, where candidates are many and new energy and vitality overshadow the elders of the "north"; and concerning members who choose to live and work in "untraditional" settings, interpreting "mis-sion" in a different way. Undercurrents rise to the sur-face during provincial elections or national assemblies, when stakes are high and the level of well-being is at risk. Sometimes an "elephant in the room" is studiously ignored during discussion of clergy sexual abuse, sexual orientation, financial accountability, or institutional assessments. In congregations with a missionary orientation and an international membership, the formal "cultural" training of members tends to be thorough and highly professional. Degrees in cross-cultural communica-tion, missiology, and anthropology abound. Experts in interreligious dialogue, ecumenism, and international development are fairly commonplace. Candidates in for-marion spend a period of ministry in another cultural context before definitive commitment, and most new members are assigned to countries not .their own. It is usual for members to achieve fluency in a second or even a third language. .Why, then, do we often find it difficult to talk among ourselves? Is it simply the human condition that the "traditionalists" will oppose the "progressives," that tribal alliances will win out over competence in choosing leadership, and that "turf wars" will decide who controls property and finance? We opted for more. Review for Religious And we know that the divisions are sinful reminders of our weakness. And so what is the solution to the dissolution? The solution is a simple one--a commitment to sustained and deliberate conversation for the purpose of achiev-ing "common ground." Following the model employed by the pro-life and pro-choice advo-cates, it is imperative to establish "rules" for dis-cussion. It is urgent to listen with care and real empathy. It is important to proceed with respect and humility. No one We know that the divisions are sinful reminders of . our weakness. person fully embodies the congregation's ideal mem-ber. Together, the members bear worldwide witness to the values espoused by its founders. No one perspective is to be eliminated or misjudged. The effort to engage in this conversation is fearful and intimidating. But it is the only way that differences can be respected--and, ultimately, that the persons expressing those different opinions will be respected and loved. The meaning of "mission" has changed since the foundation of the Spiritan congregafon in the 18th cen-tury. Far from an imposition of a foreign culture upon a people, mission is no less than sustained, purposeful, and respectful dialogue. It is a commitment to remain at the table, conversing honestly until the Spirit speaks. W-hat greater witness to the "mind of Christ" is possible than the example of a community determined to "linger at the table" and fully invest itself in genuine, honest conversation--for mission? 67.1 2008 McCloskey ¯ Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mission Notes t Edgar Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1985), p. 6. 2 Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership, 2nd edition (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1992), p. 10. 3 Joanne Martin, Cultures in Organizations: Three Perspectives (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), p. 4. 2o o Personal/Group Reflection Questions Where does my sense 6f mission come from--directly from God, from superiors, from the community in which I live? What give me a continuing sense of confirmation and support for my mission? When do we talk about our mission-~our individual ministries or our corporate ministry together? What makes this conversation helpful? What makes it painful and contentious? Review for Religious JAMES H. KROEGER An "Asian" Meditation on the Gift of Mission ~/~y mission? This perennial, persistent question mits of a variety of valid responses. Asking why is fundamentally a question of "mission motivation." Why evangelize? Why be Jesus' disciple? Why concern yourself?. What ends does mission really serve? The bishops of Asia continually grapple with these questions as they explore the evangelizing mission of the church on this vast continent of four billion people, where less than three percent of the burgeoning masses are Christian. Although these leaders of the church in Asia have elucidated several reasons for engaging in mission, what is striking is the "mission motive" they James H. Kroeger MM has since 1970 served mission in the Philippines and Bangladesh. Currently he is professor of Mission Studies and Islamics at the Loyola School of Theology; Ateneo de Manila University; Katipunan Avenue, Loyola Heights; Quezon City 1108; Philippines. jkroeger@admu.edu.ph 67.1 2008 Kroeger * The Gift of Mission mentioned first during the fifth plenary assembly of the Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences (FABC). Collectively they forcefully asserted: "We evange-lize, first of all, from a deep sense of gratitude to God, the Father 'who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing' (Ep 1:3) and sent the Spirit into our hearts so that we may share in God's own life. Mission is above all else an overflow of this life from grateful hearts transformed by the grace of God" (FABC V). The Asian bishops vigorously affirm: "That is why it is so important for us Christians to have a deep faith-experience of the love of God in Christ Jesus (Rm 8:39), that love which has been poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has ,been given to us (Rm 5:5). Without a personal experience of this love received as gift and mercy, no sense of mission can flourish" (FABC V). Note some of the words and phrases that the FABC uses to describe this motive for mission: "gratitude to God," "grateful hearts," "spiritual blessing," "given to us," "love received as gift and mercy." Indeed, mission is viewed as a gi~, graciously given, gratefully received, and generously shared. Gratitude is a powerful motive for energetic evangelization. The Image of Gift All cultures and peoples give gifts, particularly on special occasions and at significant life events: birthdays, weddings, holidays, anniversaries. Gifts bond people together, they express gratitude and appreciation. Gifts are chosen personally and carefully, to please each recip-ient. Often gifts-are exchanged at the same moment, further cementing families together, and friends too. Asians have elevated gift-giving into an art. What would Chinese celebrations and the Lunar New Year Review for Religiot~ be without generous gifts offered in red envelopes (ang-pao)? In Korea the ritual celebration of one's sixtieth birthday (hwangap) is an occasion for lavish gifting. No Filipino feels comfortable without bringing some pasa-lubong-- large or small--when returning home. Probably it is the experience of giving and receiving gifts--so deeply human--that prompted Asia's bishops to see gratitude for abundant grace received as a fit-ting image and motive for mission. This gift image expresses Christian thankfulness for God's unique, gra-tuitous, gift--Jesus the Son. Each day in the Eucharist, a Greek word that means thanksgiving (eucha-ristein), we say "we do well always and everywhere to give you thanks." Frequently in the Mass the Prayer over the Gifts refers to the "holy exchange of gifts." To help in grasping the deep meaning in the image of mission as gift, this "Asian" reflection now presents three interrelated moments of what might be termed "gift missiology." Three "R" words capture mission-as-gift: Recognize, Receive, and Reciprocate. Recognize by being profoundly aware of the uniqueness of God's gift. Receive by personally appropriating God's gift. Reciprocate by sharing God's gift with others. :The first moment in hppreciatin g "gift missiology" is ~to become deeply conscious of th~ depths of God's love. Recognizing the Gift The first moment in appreciating "gift missiology" is to become deeply conscious of the depths of God's 67.1 2008 Kroeger ¯ The Gift of Mission love, the love of the Trinity. The mission decree of the Second Vatican Council (Ad gentes) noted: "The pilgrim church is missionary by her very nature. For it is from the mission of the Son and the mission of the Holy Spirit that she takes her origin, in accordance with the decree of God the Father. This decree [divine plan] flows from that 'fountain of love' or charity within God" (AG §2). Mission originates in the centrifugal love of the Trinity; our missionary God shares of his essence which is love. God the Father gifts us with his incar-nate Son and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. One can receive no greater gift. Prayer and contemplation facilitate a depth-awareness of this great gift. The New Testament is replete with expressions of God's magnanimous generosity. Paul reminds the Romans: "Adam prefigured the One to come, but the gift considerably outweighed the fall . Divine grace, coming through the one man Jesus Christ, came to so many as an abundant free gift. The results of the gift also outweigh the results of one man's sin . Jesus Christ will cause everyone to reign in life who receives the free gift that he does not deserve" (Rm 5:15-17). As one con-templates God's profound generosity, gratitude wells up in_the heart, leading one to proclaim "Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift" (2 Co 9:15). Recognizing God's gifts also means being pro-foundly aware that we do not earn or merit the gifts; they come from God's generosity, as Paul explains to the Ephesians: "This was to show for all ages to come, through his goodness towards us in Christ Jesus, how infinitely rich he is in grace. Because it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith; not by anything of your own, but by a gift from God; not by anything that you have done, so that nobody can claim the credit. We Review for Religious are God's work of art" (Ep 2:7-10). Paul encourages the Romans to humbly receive God's gifts: "I want to urge each one among you not to exaggerate his real impor-tance . Our gifts differ according to the grace given us" (Rm 12:3-8). As Jesus prepares to leave his disciples, he promises them: "I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you forever, that Spirit of Truth. ¯ ." (Jn 14:16). Jesus' prom-ise is fulfilled at'. Pentecost: God's generous gifts are for all peoples, whatever their religious, ,ethnic, or cultural background. "They were all I ~ filled with the - Holy Spirit .The Spirit gave them the gift of speech [to] proclaim the marvels of God" (Ac 2:1-12). The early Christian community--and our church today--have been assured of God's continuous generos-ity: "You will not be without any of the gifts of the Spirit while you are waiting for our Lord Jesus Christ to be revealed" (1 Co 1:7). Paul notes that all gifts have one source: "There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit . All these are the work of the one and the same Spirit, who distributes different gifts to different people just as he chooses" (1 Co 12:1-12). God's generous gifts are for all peoples, whatever their religious, ethnic, or cultural background; thus, "the Holy Spirit came down on all the listeners . All were astonished that the gift of the Holy Spirit should be poured out on the pagans too" (Ac 10:44-45). Peter proclaims God's graciousness in Jaffa, saying: "I realized 67.1 2008 Kroeger * The Gift of Mission then that God was giving them the identical gift be gave to us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, and who was I to stand in God's way?" (Ac 11:17). Mission originates in this profound consciousness of what the Father has graciously wrought in Christ Jesus and their Spirit, continually manifested in the church. St. Th~r~se of Lisieux expressed her awareness of God's gift when she concluded: "My vocation is Love! In the heart of the church, my Mother, I shall be Love. Thus, I shall be everything." Receiving the Gift A transformed consciousness that fully appreciates God's graciousness will receive the gift of faith with a joyful heart. One need only recall how this precious gift has been given and received. One could ask: Why of the four billion people in Asia have I been privileged to receive the gift of Christian faith? Who were God's instruments in transmitting the gift to me? What price did my parents or the missionaries have to pay so that I would have this great treasure? Who are the holy people in my life who have helped me appreciate God's gifts? Reflecting on these questions will facilitate a more per-sonal reception of God's gifts of grace. When Jesus engages the Samaritan woman at the well, he challenges her to have a deeper appreciation of the gift being offered: "If you only knew the giJ~ God is offering and who it is that is saying to you: Give me a drink, you would have been the one to ask, and he would have given you living water" (Jn 4:10). Writing to the Corinthians, Paul invites them to a more profound awareness of the gift of being a Christian; he says: "People must~ think of us as Christ's servants, stewards entrusted with the mysteries of God. Review for Religious What is expected of stewards is that each one should be found worthy of his trust . What do you have that was not given to you? And if it was given, how can you boast as though it were not?" (1 Co 4:1-2,7). Both the Samaritan woman and the Corinthian community are to appreciate that, since they have been recipients of God's gifts, they themselves are now able to be gifts to others. Precisely because one is loved, has experienced God's love, and has thus become lovable, one can reach out to others with the gift of love. This is the transformed ° - consciousness that God's gifting creates in receptive individuals. One is reminded of what the Asian bishops have said: "Without a personal experience of this love received as gift and mercy, no sense of mission can flour-ish" (FABC V). A deep reception of God's Trinitarian gifting will result in a further gift: a personal vocation to minis-try. This was the "conversion" experience of St. Paul; the Lord affirmed: "This man is my chosen instrument to bring my name before pagans and pagan kings and ¯ before the people of Israel" (Ac 9:15). Paul personally owns this gift: "I have been made the servant of that gospel by a gi~ of grace from God who gave it to me by his own power" (Ep 3:7). Paul celebrates God's choice, noting that: "God never takes back his gi)~ or revokes his choice" (Rm 11:29). Reception of God's gift is a continuous, ongoing '~ A deep reception of, -God's Trinitarian gifting will result in a further gift: a personal vocation to ministry. 67.1 2008 Kroeger ¯ The Gift of Mission process. Paul reminds his beloved Timothy (and us) to keep growing in receptiveness (appreciation, personal-ization, appropriation) of God's gift: "You have in you a spiritual gift which was given to you when the prophets spoke and the body of elders laid their hands on you; do not let it lie unused. Think hard about all this, and put it into practice" (1 Tm 4:14-15). Reciprocating God's Gift The New Testament passage that best captures this third moment of gift missiology is: "What you have received as a gift, give as a gift" (Mt 10:8). The logic is simple: if one truly appreciates a gift, one wishes to share it with others. The desire to gift others is the best and clearest manifestation of authentic gratitude. The New Testament letters of James and Peter add further insight: "Make no mistake about this, my dear brothers: every good gift, everything that is perfect, is given us from abtve; it comes down from the Father of all light" (Jm 1:16-17). "Each of you has received a special gift, so like good stewards responsible for all these different graces of God, put yourselves at the service of others . . . so that in everything God may receive the glory." (1 P 4:10-11). Pope John Paul II'S 1999 apostolic exhortation Ecclesia in Asia (EA) provides several insightful per-spectives on how the church in Asia is to "reciprocate" (return, repay) the gifts it has received. "The church's faith in Jesus is a gift received and a gift to be shared; it is the greatest gift which the church can offer to Asia" (EA § 10b). "Blessed with ~the gift of faith; the church [is to become] a community aflame with missionary zeal to make Jesus known, loved, and followed . The great Review for Religious question now facing the church in Asia is how to share with our Asian brothers and sisters what we treasure as the gift containing all gifts, namely, the Good News of Jesus Christ" (EA §19a & c). "Only if the people of God recognize the gift that is theirs in Christ will they be able to communicate that gift to others through proclamation and dialogue" (EA §3 If). The perspective of "mission as gift" contains sev-eral insights on the approach or manner of mission in Asia, which is necessarily dialogue. Christians treasure the gift of their trinitarian faith, offering it freely, even enthusiastically, to others. The gift is offered with a sincere heart, yet all evangelizers know that people are free to accept or reject the gift. The dialogue partners, such as Muslims and Buddhists, also have gifts to offer: the riches of their faith and their personal "God experi-ence." Thus, a wonderful exchange of gifts can result. All people who ha~e the gift of faith need to collaborate so that through sharing their gifts they can" enrich the poor and needy in their midst. The Asian bishops were indeed most perceptive in their reflection on a renewed motivation for mission, listing gratitude first among several possible motives. Recall what they said: "We evangelize, first of all, from a deep sense of gratitude to God. Mission is above all else an overflow of this life from grateful hearts trans-formed by the grace of God . Without a personal experience of this life received as gift and mercy, no sense of mission can flourish" (FABC V). Paul's well-worded exhortation to his co-evangelizer Timothy provides a fitting conclusion for these reflec-tions on the gift of mission (gift missiology). In Paul's words, Christifins can find a reprise Of their recognition, reception, and reciprocation of the gift Of faith. Paul writes: 67.1 2008 Kroeger ¯ The Gift of Mission "Fan into a flame the gift that God gave you when I laid my hands on you .Never be ashamed of witness-ing to the Lord . Bear hardships for the sake of the Good News . Accept the strength that comes from the grace of Christ Jesus . Proclaim the message and, welcome or unwelcome, insist on it . Do all with patience . Make the preaching of the Good News your life's work, in thoroughgoing service" (2 Tm 1:6, 8-9a; 2:1; 4:1,5). Mary Keeping Shabbat There would be nearly nine months ahead Of seventh-day worship in synagogue, Sitting with her sisters and her mother In the women's rows, opposite the minyun Of their men, her secret blossoming within her, Thrusting against the homespun of her gown. She hugged its warm folds, the warm hand Of her mother covering her own. For Jews Seeking signs to believe in, or to disbelieve, The signs were there every Shabbat - seventh- Month, eighth-month - that a daughter of righteous Parents was boldly with child, Her Joseph betrayed! Her betrayer someone here among us! Watch where She turns her eyes. But she only turns her eyes To heaven, while saying her Shabbat prayers, Singing the Shabbat psalms, a bright-haired Mary, keeping Sunday in her womb. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious GODELIEVE THEYS A Dream, Ash Wednesday; and the Word In my fifty years of living in a Catholic mon-astery, an important element of my religious development has been to pay close attention to dreams. My daily life involves prayer, ritual, music, liturgy, silence, study, and work, while my nights, more than sleep, are often filled with religious imagery, prayer, and music as part of dreaming. In the Christian tradition there is a long, often neglected history of dreams pro-viding spiritual insight. John Sanford captures this in his book title: Dreams: God's Forgotten Language. Clearly much of the modern world has forgotten the significance of dreams~ as car-riers of spiritual teachings, and unfortunately, even in religious tradition, we often leave these divine messages of the night unattended. Godelieve Theys OCSO.came from Belgium in 1962 to help found her new Cistercian home at Redwoods Abbey; 18104 Briceland Road; Whitethorn, California 95589. prayer 67.1 2008 Theys ¯ A Dream, Ash Wednesday, and the Word It was in a dream that St. Joseph was warned by an angel to take the holy Child out of Israel for protection from a king who would kill the newborn King. Joseph knew the power of dreams and followed the instruction provided in the night. Where are we in our willingness to listen and follow the dream messengers? Growing older as I am, I recently recalled a dream in which I was told, "You should at least write a book to serve human-ity." This made little sense to me at the time. I did not see myself as an author, and I had no desire or inten-tion to write for others until recently. In the past year I was so deeply moved by a specific dream that I now find myself creating material that seems to want to be shared widely. Though I am not writing a book, I still hope that my experiences may help others realizer that dreams can give'insight into the mysterious reality we call the religious or the spiritual. Religion, while in gen-eral being about dogma and tradition, is also personal, being about the soul's movement towards God. Key to monastic living is to find the divine in all of life's experi-ences. Like St. Joseph, we are called to listen to angelic voices in the night, to listen to dreams as insights into religious living. Last year during Lent I had an indelible dream. For much of this year I have been trying to hear fully the message that it offers. The dream has changed me and continues to do so. The dream was this: It was Ash Wednesday. I was aware that the morning liturgy mate-rial was already typed, but that the evening material was not. I left the church and went for a morning walk outdoors, as I often do. There I saw something alive on the ground. I bent down and touched it. It was the Word for the evening liturgy, alive under my hand. I was moved to tears. It was a numinous experience. I Review for Religious wondered what to do? Should I keep this living Word with me until after lunch, protecting the Word so that it would not be destroyed or die before it was typed for the evening service, or should I return immediately to the community and get it typed right away? I was per-plexed. I awoke singing the refrain of the song "Deep Within." My words were: "Deep within I will plant my law, not on stone, but in your heart. Follow me, I will bring you back; be my own, and I will be your God." I could not recall making any decision. Besides the music, the thing that jumped out for me in the dream was the breathtaking feeling that in touching the Word I was experiencing the living pres-ence of God. In the dream ~- - - this experience of God . ¯ in the Word comes after I leave the church and take a walk amid some of nature's beauty. For me this confirms the church's i'~ life and traditional struc- ', tures and also my rela- , tion to our monastery's natural environment. Going outdoors, as in my dream image, reminds me of the evolution of consciousness itself. Awareness develops through our contact with the: outside world, through relationship with the world around us. Living in the heart of a forest, I am blessed in knowing the world as divine creation. For years I have walked daily in the beauty of our landscape to be restored. Walking and attending to nature is a way of quieting the mind and refreshing the soul. The wonder of the natural world offers my constant .mental activ-ity the opportunity to be touched by the realm of the In touching the Word I was experiencing the living presence of God. 67.1 2008 Theys ¯ A Dream, Ash Wednesday, and the Word senses. In this dream of finding the Word alive, on the ground before me, my senses seem to come fully alive and open me to the deeper experience of this religious moment. Might the Word be more available than we imagine if only we were more attuned to this possibility? Seeing with our eyes, hearing with our ears, touching with our hands---how much of life are we missing and how much spiritual potential lies undiscovered simply'because we are not aware? This dream calls me to greater attention because in it I saw the Word, alive, under my hand. I felt its pulse. It was like a little bird that could' not fly and was waiting perhaps for me to pick it up, hold it gently, quench its thirst, that it could recover its strength and fly again. It was truly an experience of the sacred to feel this life under my hand, to feel the living substance of it. In that moment there was an immediate relationship between God's Word and me. Eros, relatedness, was involved. I was deeply moved; my heart was touched to the point of tears. The Word needs to be seen, to be heard, to be spoken, to be listened to, and to be fol-lowed so that its message can get through and heal the depths of the heart. It is important to me that this Word was found, not only outdoors, but also on the ground, on the earth in front of me--not above, not in the air, not transcendent. Here a divine Word was putting itse!f right in front of me, like something that was lost. There it was, all by itself, needing my help, needing me to keep my eyes open or miss a divine manifestation. Iv am reminded of the story of the rabbi who was asked, "How is it that God doesn't speak to people as he did in the past?" The rabbi answered: "Because no one bows low enough any-more." Bowing low is a gesture of humility that we may Review for Religious lack. As modern people we seek the spiritual above and beyond, outside the world of matter, and perhaps are not humble enough to see what is right before us. But, returning to the dream, what is before me is the Word. Living in a contemplative community, I am regularly in touch with the Word of God in Scripture-- and in the Rule of St. Benedict as well. These are important for my daily life. In this tradition there is nothing more powerful than the teaching in the opening verse of St. John's Gospel: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." Before the evangelist, the prophet Isaiah told us: "The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of God will stand firm" (Is 40:58). And Jesus himself said: "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away" (Mt 5:18). In reflecting upon the Word as it comes in the dream, I am reminded that there are many words--vol-umes upon volumes filled with them--and there is the Word. This dream clearly reflects the power of the Word. As Heidegger said, "language is more than little puffs of breath." Words are wellsprings of energy, giving us the power to communicate with one another, to share our thoughts, feelings, and experiences. Words bring us into relationship with the world around us and with our inner world as well. They put us in touch with our past, lead us into the future, and help us realize actual Words bring us into relationship with theWorld around Us and with, our inner world as well. 67.1 2008 Theys ¯ A Dream, Ash Wednesday, and the Word situations and attitudes in the present. They tell us what is in our mind and heart. Words both wound and heal. They are not only expressions of our conscious life, our ego identity, but also of our unconscious, as it comes through in dreams. They often have deeper meanings than what they stand for in ordinary life. They are chan-nels to our deeper and truer identity. Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVl, in his book Salt of the Earth reminds us that "the word revealed in history is definitive, but it is inexhaustible, and it unceasingly discloses new depths. In this sense, the Holy Spirit, as the interpreter of Christ, speaks with his word to every age and shows it that this word always has something new to say.''1 The Holy Spirit, as the interpreter of Christ, who is God's definitive Word, "always has something new to say," but are we prepared to listen? Listening to my dream, I return to Ash Wednesday and sense the meaning of Lent, a meaning that tells me that, through deeper listening and closer attention to both dreams and daily life, we might come to greater awareness of the Word as it reveals itself to us. Nonetheless, I can-not help wondering why the Word, as it comes in this dream, does not address itself direcdy to me. Why does it not communicate what it expects me to do? I do not know what choice I made about taking care of the Word I was holding. It was only when I woke hearing the song "Deep Within" that I came to sense the message of the Word in this dream, the message of "Follow me." Turning.to the Gospels, I think of Jesus saying "Follow me" in several instances. The words of the song in my dream return: "Follow me, I will bring you back; be my own, and I will be your God." The Word will bring us back, will reveal our true selves, if only we are Review for Religious willing to follow the path of Jesus, the path of becom-ing a new being, with the only true name we have: I am. To follow Jesus as the enlightened one coming out of his baptism as the Son of God, the Beloved, involves living in relationship to the Word. We must entrust ourselves to the flow of life and consciously live the seasonal changes from death to new birth. Like the day that flows into night, we are always in transformation. Nothing remains static. Laziness, not striving to be con-stantly awake, locks us into one place and we stagnate and decay. Commitment to following the Word leads into the paschal mystery, the cycle of life, death, and resurrection. We are to let go of our attachments, not only to material possessions, but also to family, profession, social group, community, even to institutional religion. Like the rich young man who asked Jesus what he must do to have life, we must let go of what we have or who we think we are. We are to sell all and follow the path that leads to greater life, and, as Thomas Merton said when he was at Red, woods in 1968, "we have to stand on our own two feet." Along the same line, Elizabeth B. Howes wrote: "To sell all., means to renounce that right to choose the specificity of one's own desire and to let oneself be molded by the Patterning of the moment. Through such conscious choice, we give back to its true owner what we have been given. It is as if our life were on loan. We either take it and run away to shape it as we will, or we turn it back to its Source in a volitional act of choice, which makes us co-creators with the process of God.''2 To follow God's law planted in our heart is to find our true identity and to know the sacredness of the liv- 67.1 2008 ing Word, as in the image of my dream. This journey of which I write is the task of our lifetimes. Notes ~ Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Salt of the Earth (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1987), p. 62. 2 E.B. Howes, Jesus' Answer to God (San Francisco: Guild for Psychological Studies Publishing House, 1984), p. 89. Longing for Easter Give us Easter, the brilliant wine of the Kingdem, the days when He might appear at any moment and we in his presence become speechless with joy, shy with wonder. Give us Easter, when we can forget (not from shame) the dark pain that went before, or see it as one sees, from the bright rooms of home, the troubled road by which one traveled back Give us Easter and spring and the words of songs we always hoped to learn Give us always Easter. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL Pedagogy of Prayer HTan persons grow only through their relation-ips to the realities that enter into their self-awareness. This is a matter of integration, of becoming more and more whole rather than more and more dis-persed. Integrated selfhood is achieved only by free commitment to a life-meaning. People actualize their personal identity by faithfully choosing all their lives to express their identity in an authentic way. ~: The total human development of persons gifted with Christian faith calls them to integrate into their growth their relationships with other persons, with themselves, with things, and especially with God. Graced confessing that Jesus is Lord is recognition that the central rela-tionship of their life is their personal relationship with God. To bring this relationship into self-awareness is to pray. I shall suggest in this article a pedagogy of prayer. I shall offer reflections on what prayer is. Then I shall make some practical remarks on how to pray. Finally John Carroll Futrell SJ has written for this journal about ten times, beginning in 1958. His address is 3601 Lindell Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63108. 67.1 2008 Futrell ¯ Pedagogy of Prayer I shall respond affirmatively to the question "Can we pray?" What Is Prayer? When we pray we meet God. Perhaps the best description of prayer is that it is a loving, personal encounter with God. C.S. Lewis remarked: "Prayer is either a sheer illusion or a personal contact between embryonic, incomplete persons (ourselves) and the utterly concrete Person." Our problem is to verify this encounter. Encounter may take many forms. Close friends can encounter each other by talking or being silent, or even when they are physically far from each other, because they are always in personal commu-nion. It takes two to make an encounter. I can reach out to you, but, unless you receive me and give yourself to me on the personal level, we can have no true encounter. When you reach out to God, God is there to receive you. This loving personal encounter is prayer. God is present, whether we "feel" that presence or not. We know this is true because God has revealed it to us. We know it because we have the gift of faith. The Holy Spirit present in us enables us to confess that Jesus is Lord. We must insist with faith on the fact of God's constant, transcendent, loving presence, even when we feel nothing but dryness. Our own coming to encounter God is the human dimension of prayer. Prayer as a human activity is mak-ing ourselves present to the presence of God within us, so that we can recognize God's presence in everyone and everything around us. Prayer requires of us the labor to get ourselves together, body, feelings, imagination, intelligence, will, desires, place, time, environment--so Review for Religious that we can truly be present to the presence of God in loving, personal encounter. Our essential praying, then, is accomplished by the will to pray even in the midst of distractions or of total dryness. If we have the sincere desire to pray, then, at the bottom of our heart, deep within us, there is a loving encounter with God, even though it is not consciously felt at the top of our head. St. Paul put it perfecdy in his Letter to the Romans: The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For, when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit 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 the Spirit means. (Rm 8:26-28) A problem for many people attempting to verify the encounter with God which is prayer is that they begin with their own idea of good prayer, as determined by lack of distractions, no dry-ness, a continuous feeling of consolation. A false notion of prayer makes true prayer unverifiable. The problem here may be that we are seeking God for ourselves rather than for love of God. Instead of welcoming God's personal presence personally, we turn God into an 0/~ect, a thing we can acquire to fill a need. Prayer must be openness, listening, welcome. Prayer leads us from self-centered need to other-centered love. This passage from need to love is illuminated by reflection with Freud on human growth toward matu-rity as a movement from need to desire2 As infants we all begin as quivering bundles of needs. We relate to Prayer must be openness, listening, welcome. 67.1 2008 Futrell * PedagoG of Prayer all the realities that come into our awareness--espe-cially our mothers--as objects there to satisfy our needs. Need seeks self-satisfaction, the absorption of the other into myself. Freudian body imagery is revealing. Need means self-affirmation of my own bodily presence only; this annihilates all that is not myself by consuming it bodily. As long as I am operating chiefly from my need, I affirm myself only as an object, a needy body-thing, just as I affirm others only as objects to satisfy my needs. Freud shows that it is in passing from need to desire that we come to human maturity. In his terminology, when I desire another person, I affirm the reality of the other as a subject, as a free mysterious person, with inalien-able rights and always beyond adequate representation in concept or image. In desire we recognize what is not ourselves and affirm its free otherness. It is only in affirming others as persons that we realize ourselves as persons, as free subjects open to personal relationships. VChen we pass from need to desire, we can say, "It is now for the first time that I truly experience myself as a person, for it is only in your presence that I am." The poet e.e. cummings put it perfectly: "i am through you so i." When we apply this Freudian model to prayer, it is dear that in its initial stages prayer would reflect as in a mirror the emptiness of our need for God. From expe-riencing this need we shall pass gradually to the desire for God in God's infinite otherness. Even on the human level, desiring the other as unique and thus infinitely different from me is the greatest love. "I love you" becomes "You exist!" To love others is to will their pres-ence as irreducible to me. In recognizing their unique-ness, I recognize an absence in their very presence, the inalienable freedom of their otherness. Review for Religious Thus, desire--love--is not a static, finished thing. It is an ongoing living thing. Because of this fascinating and wonderful presence-in-absence, even a moment of intense personal union opens upon a new frontier, a beckoning from beyond towards deeper union. Another person remains an unfathomable secret. I cannot know this secret through thought or images or even bodily union. I can know another person only through love. In The Art of Loving (chap. 2), Erich Fromm points out: "In love, I know you, I know myself, I know every-body-- and I 'know' nothing. I know in the only way knowledge of that which is alive is possible for man--by experience of union--not by any knowledge our thought can give." The only way to full knowledge lies in the experience of love. This experience transcends thought; it transcends words. Thus, if I can have no full knowledge of God in thought, if theology is at best negative, then posi-tive knowledge of God can be achieved only in the act of union with God. In prayer we know God by lov-ing God, by welcoming God's gift to us in the loving experience of God's presence-in-absence. Prayer always remains desire, opening ever more widely toward ever fuller union, as St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cr6ss powerfully attest. Ren~ Voillaume insists that we will be less satisfied with ourselves in prayer the more closely we approach God. This lack of satisfaction is a part of prayer, a proof of unfulfilled desire, which can only grow with growth of love. Far from satisfying thirst for God, prayer increases it. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote: God does not offer himself to our finite beings as a thing all complete and ready to be embraced. For us he is eternal discovery and eternal growth. 67.1 2008 Futrell * Pedagogy of Prayer The more we think we understand him, the more he reveals himself as otherwise. The more we think we hold him, the further he withdraws, drawing us into the depths of himself. The nearer we approach him through all the efforts of nature and grace, the more he increases, in one and the same movement, his attraction over our powers, and the receptivity of our powers to that divine attraction. (The Divine Milieu, pp. 119-120) As St. Thomas Aquinas put it, "by prayer we render ourselves capable of receiving." St. Gregory of Nyssa pointed out that the more we make progress, the more we discover that God infinitely transcends all that we can ever know of God. "To find God is to seek God without end." Thomas Merton noted that "progress in prayer is a continual burning of bridges behind us." Prayer, then, is faith, openness, listening, welcome, surrender. It is not through speculation or through study of theories of prayer and of love that we learn to pray and to love God, but only through the exercise of prayer and of love. We must sweep away all preconcep-tions and simply listen to God. Jesus told us in a parable what our attitude should be when we pray. We should be the good soil that nurtures the seed planted in it by the Divine Sower, accepting the word with faith. Just as we find Christ in the Eucharist under the appear-ances, so we must seek the reality of encounter with God under the words and gestures of our prayer. The soil where the word is sown is the heart, the center of our person. If we do not receive God here, our prayer is marked by boredom and routine and falsehood. We must be present to our own heart, where God is seek-ing us in spirit and in truth. All of our authentic prayer begins in our heart, in the activity of the Holy Spirit in our hearts.2 Review for Religious We have nearly two thousand years of reflection on the experience of Christian praying. The great masters of prayer always have seen as true prayer the "interior understanding and relish" that is born of the Holy Spirit's illumination of our spirit. This prayer may be very dry. Our prayer may often be quite simple: just a period of repeating the same thing to God over and over until it becomes part of us. Prayer can be a tor-ment until we are transformed into what we are say-ing. Christians who really pray have always known that "by their fruits you shall know them." The criterion of good prayer is not sensible consolation, but whether we continually live a more loving life by the power we receive even in very arid prayer. When we seem lost in our own confusion, distracted, and hardly present to God except in a prayerful word or two, there still may be in us, through the Holy Spirit's presence, a desire that we eventually experience as power, strength to serve God and our neighbor with our whole being, no matter what the cost. Thomas Merton's teaching on prayer emphasizes that the Holy Spirit is .seeking us in our hearts, where we come to ourselves. It is difficult to enter into the silence of our hearts, the place where no one else can enter, where we must put off our masks and no longer hide.3 This is where God calls us: "Give me your heart, your very self." Here we allow God to judge us, God who invites us to a full life. Here we learn to be at home We have nearly two thousand years of reflection on the experience of Christian praying. 67.1 2008 Futrell ¯ Pedagogy of Prayer with God, beyond our emotions and our intellectual life. We learn to overcome our fear of what is there and our temptation to go back to what is familiar. God is at home where we are truly ourselves. Merton put it, "Prayer does not consist in an effort to get across to God, but in opening our eyes to see that we are already there." The good that we seek through prayer is not the self-satisfaction of a "successful" prayer according to our own idea, but the formation of an attitude of total surrender to God in every detail of our daily life. This good God gives, through the more or less active coop-eration of our effort to pray. This is the pearl of great God is always calling us, speaking to us in all the events of our daily lives. price always to be sought in prayer. It is this which transforms us in Christ and prepares us always to say yes to the Word of God calling us at every moment of our lives. Brother David wrote, "Only life lived to the full measures up to the task of contemplation" (Gratefulness, p. 64). A life of ongoing prayer will draw us deeper and deeper into the presence of God, until we shall experience it in situations that do not immediately suggest God's presence. Then we are praying always, even though our conscious attention is elsewhere. This is what the masters of prayer mean by finding God in all things. God is always calling us, speaking to us in all the events of our daily lives. God comes to us in every situation we face: in our work, in our play, in the people we meet, in all our duties. All of these serve as invitations to welcome God here and Review for Religious now, to let God challenge us to live our Christian life perfectly. If we understand prayer this way, there are never places where prayer is impossible. Perhaps we need to change our way of understanding prayer. Louis Evely has said, "We're not asked to choose between God and world, but to discover God in the world and reveal God to it." It has been well said that there are no part-time human beings or part-time Christians Or part-time con-templatives. When we confess that Jesus is Lord, no sin-gle moment of our lives is outside this relationship.4 We can live prayer at all times, whether formally praying or not. What are we really seeking at all times during our life? What is our basic operational orienta-tion? What is our heart's treasure? This may be other people, egoism, money, pleasure, popular success, or it may be God. Whatever it is, it pervades all our actions, rules our individual choices and our spontaneous actions and reactions, constructs our world, without our being conscious of it all the time. If my basic existential ori-entation is to God, I am praying always, always having a loving personal encounter with God. Thomas Merton summed it up perfectly: "If I find God I will find myself, and if I find my true self I will find God. And the only one who can teach me to find God is God's self. So pray for your own discovery." How to Pray Since prayer is a loving personal encounter with our forever faithful God, our human effort during any period of our life must always be to make ourselves present to God: to enter into our own faith experience of the Spirit of the risen Jesus at the bottom of our heart, where God touches our life. This is the meaning 67.1 2008 Fuvrell ¯ Pedagog~ of Prayer of all human prayer, whatever the method or style. The criterion for judging which method or style to use is simple: "Does it work?" Does this method at this time bring us into God's presence? Is it enabling us to live a life of love for God, other people, and myself?. A particular method of prayer may meet this crite-rion for years. But normally there will be times when a method is no longer right for us. Then we must experi-ment with various methods. We must be open to all pos-sibilities: God can use anything as a way to encounter us. Our part is to discover a way of finding God now. It may be a hope-filled darkness in which we wait willingly for subde energies of faith and love to return. The best prayer for me now may be meditation on the revealed truths of faith. People sometimes reject this method as "talking to myself." Well, why not talk to ourselves if God, who can make use of anything, is there and listening attentively? At times the best prayer may be lectio divina: slow thoughtful reading of Scripture or of other spiritual writings, stopping sometimes where we experience some heartfelt understanding. God works with us incarnationally, and so the method of prayer that works usually fits our temperament and cultural climate. Some older persons may be drawn to slow recitation of the rosary or to reading set prayers reflectively. The method for other persons_ may be singing or playing a guitar or adopting various body positions. The criterion always is "What works?" The great contemporary master of prayer Brother David Steindl-Rast OSB proposes two excellent ques-tions for evaluating our current method of prayer: (1) Is my prayer truly an expression of my prayerfulness, gratefulness, sorrow, compassion, and so forth? and (2) Does my prayer make me more prayerful? Review for Religious Two millennia of Christian experience show that it is fairly normal for people to be led gradually from more active methods of prayer to quieter, more passive methods. The way of praying may become simply enter-ing into a deeply felt attitude and resting in it: being thanks, being open, being praise, being begging when we feel our radical poverty deeply. In this prayer, when we become aware of our mind or imagination running off in various directions, we simply let those distractions fall as we keep coming back to our deep attitude of being. The Psalms fit this form of prayer because they express deeply felt attitudes, often in just a line or half line. Just a few verses of a psalm may help for days or even weeks. For persons who are feeling far from God and overwhelmed with cares and anxieties, the first few lines of Psalm 40 can be of great help: I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Stop at words or phrases. Let them sink in, and let your own thoughts rise. Stay there until you feel that the Holy Spirit is leading you to the next word or phrase. Another important form of. prayer to learn, consider-ing our tendency to rush on, is repetition: coming back to interior movements we experienced during previous periods of prayer and letting the Spirit deepen these movements and draw us closer to God and away from what holds us back. There are times when we should simply "plough the rock until it bear." 41 67.1 2008 Futrell * Pedagogy of Prayer In Christian prayer there is no method more central than contemplation of t, he life of Jesus in the Gospels. In Christian prayer there is no method more central than contemplation of the life of Jesus in the Gospels. This contemplation can take many forms and range from fairly discursive reflection to simple presence to Jesus in a scene. The proof that our method of contem-plation of Jesus is right for us right now is the experi-ence of being more and more transformed into him in our daily living with and love of other people. We must be ready to recognize when the prayer to which God calls us now is simply to enter into the void and wait in darkness for God. We realize that for us at present God is nowhere else than in this purifying empti-ness. A Jesuit friend of mine once told me that the only way he had been able to pray for weeks was to stand holding his arms up in supplica-tion. There were no thoughts, no images, not even a deeply felt attitude-- nothing. Yet he knew that this body prayer of emptiness was what God wanted of him then, beyond any thought or feelings. Even in desolation we are called to pray by "remembering consolation." W-hen darkness overcomes us, our prayer must be a faith that remembers what we saw, felt, hoped, and loved when we were filled with light. It can be helpful to think about prayer as a place. Sometimes it is a garden, beautiful, full of flowers, sweet scents, and birds singing and fountains play-ing. Sometimes it is a mountaintop, where we would Review for Religious like to pitch a tent and stay. Sometimes it is a desert. Sometimes it is a "blah" place, where all we can say is "God, here I am in my blahness." Sometimes it is a rock that we cling to with bloodied hands. And sometimes it is an empty tomb. For me, sometimes, it is a boat, when I feel as exhausted as Jesus was when his disciples woke him to calm the storm. Then all I can say, before falling asleep, is "Jesus, I'm with you!" A friend of mine, a sister, returning very blue and worn from a day of apostolic work, composed a beauti-ful prayer out of this feeling of prayer as a place: Dear God, tonight I'm tired and discouraged. I want to just give up and walk away. I'm in the basement and I want to go to the attic. In the basement, I'm lonely. In the attic, I'm alone, all one. In the basement, I crouch in the dark damp coal bin and dig up bones from the past. In the attic, I quiedy open the trunk lid and think about the treasures of the past - some painful, some joyful - but treasures nonetheless. Rain in the basement beats me to the cold hard concrete and I feel suffocated. Rain in the attic has a restful pitter-patter, pitter-patter, as it softly sings, "I love you, I love you, I love you." In the basement, I'm closed off. The windows are darkened and covered with weeds. I cannot see the sun when it does shine forth. In the attic, there is no way to keep out the warm sun of your love as it shines through the leaves on the trees. It makes delightful patterns for my enjoyment. And so, dear God, I ask you to take me from the basement to the attic. I ask for aloneness, I ask for treasures, I ask for soft soothing rain 67.1 2008 Futrell ¯ Pedagogy of Prayer and warm loving sunshine. I ask to feel your love. I do believe., help my lack of belief. Prayer Flows out of Life Situations Whatever method of prayer we use, as body-per-sons in space and time, we must seek to compose our-selves interiorly and, if possible, to choose a place that will help us to be present to the presence of God. We know that our body conditions the state of our con-sciousness. And so it is vital to take the time, perhaps a long time, to compose ourselves before praying: to enter into a deep silence of the body and imagination and feelings. Methods like the Additional Observations in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola (§§73-86) or the preparations in the old meditation books or yoga or transcendental meditation or Zen or Sadhana can be helpful. The great 19th-century master of prayer Theophane the Recluse described prayer truly as "stand-ing before God with the mind in.the heart." If we are to pray, we must commit ourselves to make time for it: time to calm ourselves down, time to allow God to rise up in our awareness, to become God for us. We must discern the rhythm of prayer that we need at this time in our lives, and we must be faithful to it even when we do not feel like praying. We know that our most essential duties are not always those that we feel like doing. Nevertheless, we do fulfill them because of the importance they have for us, their priority in our lives. The operational proof of what our priorities are is the quality time that we give to them, not what we may verbally affirm about their importance. Time is the most precious possession of human beings, and what we do Review for Religious with our time is the behavioral proof of what we value in our lives. If we really put a high priority on prayer, we regularly give quality time to it. As in human love, there can and should be steadfastness even when we feel dull and lack spontaneity. And, of course, both love and prayer seek imaginative ways to transform routine and revivify themselves. Can We Pray? If we exercise our faith and our creativity and our common sense, we can pray. We can bring ourselves and take time and wait to encounter God. We can look to see whether our hearts have left space for God to come and meet us. For two thousand years the purpose of Christian asceticism has been to make space in our hearts for God to encounter us there. The difficulty of prayer is that it is the entrance into the bottom of our hearts. It places us before the wall of grace and the invisible. This involves going out of our selfish self, which makes prayer so diffi-cult. It is a true purgatory--a purification. This difficulty is overcome only by the Holy Spirit. To consent to pray is to consent to place ourselves before this wall and to wait with faith and hope for God to lower the wall. The lowering of the wall is the progressive coming of God to our deep self. Here only God can overcome. To believe that we have solved the problem ourselves is to show that we have lost the batde. Here, truly, we gain our life only by losing it. Our prayer should lead us to the still point of our being, the root of our existence, the center of our awareness of our unique individuality, where we are touched by the divine creative act and where, in silence and in darkness, we understand that God is God. At this point of our dependence upon God, we find God 67.1 2008 Futrell ¯ Pedagogy of Prayer in a presence that is absence, in an emptiness that is filled with God, in the knowing that is not knowledge but love. This, I think, is the command of God to the psalmist: "Empty yourself out and see that I am God." Descend to the depths of your own being, to the very point where you spring up out of my creative love, and there you will find me. Here God's presence is felt as breaking in on us, breaking down the wall of selfish self-love that limits our encounter with God. We see that this same wall keeps us from truly loving others as Jesus commands us to do, and that it keeps us from hearing and respond-ing to God's word in all the events of our lives. In this prayer we become filled with the light of the Spirit of the risen Jesus, who will illuminate all our experiences and will bring us at last to find God in all things. Often in this prayer we encounter God in his breaking in on us, and we feel no need or inclination to speak, because everything is understood in love. We simply surrender to God in his transforming action on us. But this is not a prayer of inaction. At no time do we feel more fully alive. For some people this is the habitual form of prayer. For others it happens only rarely. In all our prayer we should be listening to God, ready to welcome him, as God sometimes welcomes us, in a moment of great clarity or great joy.5 Notes i For this insight I am indebted to Jesuit psychoanalyst Dr. Denis Vasse, of Lyons, France. 2 "To cqntemplate means raising our eyes to a higher order that challenges us to measure up . Only the heart is high and deep enough to hold this vision." Brother David Steindl-Rast OSB, Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 64. 3 "The heart in biblical culture, and also in a large part of other cul- Review for Religious tures, is that essential center of personality in which the person stands before God, as the totality of body and soul, as T who is thinking, will-ing, and loving, as the center in which the memory of the past opens up to planning of the future . The significance [of] the heart., reaches the sanctuary of personal self-awareness in which is summarized and condensed the concrete essence of the person, the center in which the individual decides upon himself, in face of others, the world, and God himself." John Paul II, Audience at the Gemelli Clinic, 28 June 1984. 4 "Work should not make us stop praying. But when my work becomes my only prayer, it won't be prayer much longer. Its weight will pull me off center. We can hear it quickly when a clothes dryer spins unevenly. Why can't we hear it when our lives do the same? It may be time to stop and reload. It may be time for nothing but prayer, time to disengage ourselves, to find our center, and to re-engage ourselves from the heart. Then our work will truly be prayer, It will be contemplation in action." Steindl-Rast, Gratefulness, p. 195. 5 Listen to C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces, near the end (p. 307): "He is coming . The air was growing brighter and brighter., as if something had set it on fire. Each breath I drew let into me new terror, joy, overpowering sweetness. I was pierced through and through with the arrows of it. I was being unmade. I was no one . The earth and stars and sun, all that was or will be, existed for his sake. And he was coming. The most dreadful, the most beautiful, the only dread and beauty there is, was coming . I cast down my eyes." Personal/Group Reflection Questions 1. Have I had the experience of trying to teach someone to pray? What did I find to be helpful in teaching someone to pray? What obstacles did I experience? 2. What is my favorite way of defining or describing Christian prayer? 3. How do I respond to Brother David Steindl-Rast's question, "Does my prayer make me more prayerful?" 67.1 2008 BRENDAN KNEALE Pray Passionately of we look at Roman liturgical practice as a form f prayer, it does not seem to encourage pray-ing passionately. Of course, there is a good reason for this--the litur~.¢ is a public, not a private, form of prayer. It expects us to bring to its formalities and rituals a preparation of intense personal prayer. Some devout Catholics, perhaps, find rich emotional con-tent in Gregorian chant if they bring to it a suitable background. Also, the Roman Liturgy does include an extensive use of the Psalms, which are full of passion-ate prayers that any of us can find to be deeply mov-ing. Consider such passages as these used in the official Liturgy of the Hours: Cry out with joy to the Lord, all the earth . . . For you my soul is thirsting--my body pines for you . . . My soul shall be filled as with a banquet., my soul clings to you . . . Brendan Kneale FSC, a retired professor from Saint Mary's College of California, is now on the staff of De La Salle Institute; 4403 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. His email address is bkneale@dlsi.org Review for Religious Let the faithful rejoice in their glory, shout for joy., let them praise his name with dancing. Tremble, 0 earth, before the Lord . I bow down before your temple, filled with awe. The Lord's voice flashes flames of fire. He sends fire and brimstone on the wicked. No one can escape his hand. Praise him with full voice . Ring out your joy to the Lord. There are dozens of passages like these. The Liturgy cites, also, some of the strong language of St. Paul, who certainly expressed himself with passion. We have intimations of how emotional and intense Christ's own prayer was, notably in the garden and on the cross, culminating in: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Likewise, when he declared that he came to "cast fire on the earth." He no doubt was reflecting the strong feelings of his previous prayer. At Pentecost the Holy Spirit communicated himself with the symbolic "sound of wind and tongues of fire." This ought to stir our emotion, as when we sometimes refer to "fire in the belly." It did so, surely, for canonized saints, many of them known for the intensity of their prayer life. Here, however, it seems fair to ask, "Where is the passion in the wording of the Our Father, the arche-typal prayer Christ left us?" Answer: It is certainly there for people who have no "daily bread," and for those of us acutely aware of our need for a. ~'supersubstantial bread." Similarly, if we are full of-faith and devout sen-sibilities, we will experience a yearning, in the words of the Our Father, for "forgiveness of sins" and a fear of being "led into temptation," and for a strong desire to be "delivered from evil." The same goes for other seem-ingly bland prayers of our tradition. If we but bring our 67.1 2008 Kneale ¯ Pray Passionately true situation to such prayers, they will become quite passionate. In older terminology, it is with "fervor" that we should pray. Later Traditions Many modern religious orders have a community spirituality which translates into language that seems at best to be sentimental rather than passionate. An example can be found in English translations of 17th-century texts on prayer. When one of its masters, St. John Baptist de la Salle, wrote "The Method of Mental Prayer," his language in translation was made to sound pallid. Thus, in English versions, we find him frequently urging us to pray with "sentiments of faith." It does not seem adequate to translate the French sentiment into a mild, neutral, and comfortable English word like "senti-ment." In fact, bilingual dictionaries would have allowed translators to use much stronger alternatives. The question arises: How does one bring passion to prayer? Soldiers in any kind of combat do not have to ask that question. Neither do we--if we let ourselves realize how abruptly death may come for us, if we really think about the greatness and goodness of God, if we realize our guilt, if we are at all sensitive to our inner longings, if our mortality weighs down on us as it should, if we are sensitive to our capacity for the infinite, if we admit a yearning for communion with the saints, if we feel deeply the needs of those for whom we pray, if we are persons of genuine loyalty, if we are aware of our past ingratitude and our utter vulnerability. In other words, as the masters of prayer have always taught, we must prepare for our prayer by realizing how desperate our condition and situation is, how great and good God is, how important prayer is, how linked we Review for Religious are to our fellow human beings. Many such deep con-victions are acts of faith and stem from insights aris-ing- out- of experience, meditation, and study--and, of course, from grace. "The Holy Spirit prays in us." We become a version of "deep calling on deep." After the effect of "cool" literature on prayer, one suspects that the rise of devotion to the Sacred Heart and other devo-tions helped compensate for prayer's lack of warmth, and even coldness, in this world of ours. It is evident that passion invigorates prayer, but also the converse holds. Prayer can stir spiritual pas-sion, which then often takes the form of zeal for various charitable works and also for personal discipline. Unfortunately, sen-timent and shallow many of us, since genuine emotion depends on deep convictions and full realizations about serious things. Where do deep feeling, passion, and genuine love come from? The source is true faith, real conviction, theological insights, realizations stemming from deep meditation--that is, things deep in the mind. There is always, however, a danger of self-deception and of artifi-cially stirred-up shallow feelings, ephemeral sentiments. St. La Salle, mentioned earlier, was a man of feeling. He lived in times when emotions were intense over serious internal church struggles. And he had his own battles with civil authorities and with incomprehension by his contemporaries, clerical and lay, so that his own prayer was challenged at a deeper level than most of us and thus felt more keenly. Where do deep feeling, passion, and genuine love come from? feelings may have to suffice for 67.1 2008 Kneale ¯ Pra~ Pa~ionatel~ Where, for us, do the occasion and quality for pas-sionate prayer come from? They arise from experi-ences eliciting fear, gratitude, desperation . . . feelings which call forth our faith and convictions. At the start of our interior prayer, we often include an introduc-tory exercise: making our situation "real," recalling viv-idly, stirring our faith and hope, gratitude and humility, awakening ourselves from somnolence. Frequently Repeated Prayers Prayers that are frequently repeated should not be perfunctory, but should be recited "once more with feel-ing." There is a danger that prayers like the rosary could plunge us into mindless rote. That is where the ancient admonitions about study and reading can be applied. Prayers like the ~'osary will be infused with emotion if we bring to them a rich background of gospel meditation and theological study. Thus in the rosary such insights may prepare as many as ten ideas or rousing images to accompany our recitation of the ten beads in each decade. Every one of us can become a "vas insigne devotionis," rich in insights that stir our emotions and direct our will. The rosary, then, can be prayed passionately. Of course, to recite vocal prayers poorly is often an act of faith and so has value. St. Thomas Aquinas is supposed to have written somewhere that one differ-ence between rote vocal prayers of petition and atten-tive and involving prayers of petition is not that one is answered and the other is not--rather, if both are prayed with faith and goodwill, one is more consoling than the other. That is one difference. There are oth-ers. A prayer that is passionate is likely to be extended, sincere, satisfying, richer in intention, fortifying of our faith and hope., instead of a routine burden. Review for Religious Dryness There is no such thing in this life as a perpetual emotional high. One experience that the saints have often undergone is spiritual dryness. Sometimes, it seems, such periods are imposed by God as trials, but could it be that sometimes they are self-imposed by our own neglect? If we fail to use the sources of inspiration and energy--such as attention, study, sensitivity, insight, consistency, solitude, detachment--then we can expect aridity. The Language of Prayer Perhaps, looking back at the word "sentiment" and recalling the passionate words of the Psalms, we can say that the language used in prayer is important. Paying attention to the stirring words of the Psalms can bring life back into our prayer. Depending on the occasion, .however, vocalized prayer should vary appropriately: ritualistic or hiero-phantic, informal or personal, intense or calm and reflective, importunate or resigned--adoring, grateful, repetitive, vivid, meditative. We do not want to over-dramatize our lives, but one suspects that prayers of petition, at least, do need heartfelt words--the more passionate the better. In any case we have the promise of St. Paul in Romans 8: "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 ¯ . . the pleas of the saints expressed by the Spirit are according to the mind of God." 67.1 2008 CLIFFORD STEVENS The Institute of Impracticalities: The Financial Support of Monasteries consecrated life G.K. Chesterton, before he created the Father Brown detective stories, tried his hand at the genre by writing a clever story called "The Club of Queer Trades," a tale of a fraternity of tradesmen who had managed to come up with unusual ways to make a living. In it a man makes his living giving excitement to people who lacked excitement in their lives and adven-ture to those who lacked adventure. He would send them sinister and intriguing messages, or leave strange objects on their doorstep, or send them secret packages, all designed to add some spice to an otherwise humdrum existence. I thought at one time if I had not become a priest I would set up a place called Chesterton Square with a number of odd shops and busi-nesses doing business there: a Bottle Shop, a Kite Unlimited Emporium, and imposingly on Clifford Stevens has written for us at intervals since 1975. His addres~ is Tintern Monastery; EO. Box 910; Kemmerer, Wyoming 83101. Review for Religious one corner of the square an Institute of Impracticalities, which would answer any need that was totally and clearly not practical, such as ordering an elephant for a wedding, or sending a truckload of balloons to a sick child. A monastery is and must be, if it is to be true to its character, a true Institute of Impracticalities. We exist for no "practical" purpose; we are useless, as far as most people are concerned, and there is nothing "practical" that we can mention as our particular achievement. We have to cultivate "unpracticality" almost with genius, or else that particular disease, fatal in some cases, called "practicality" takes over and everything is sacrificed on the altar of "practicality." This has been the bane of monasteries from time immemorial and has been responsible for the eclipse of the monastic life sev-eral times in history. I am thinking particularly of the monastery of Fountains in England, where "practicality" drove peasants off the land, made the monastery some-thing of an economic empire, built sumptuous build-ings, and got the monastery involved in the dynastic and ecclesiastical power struggles of the time. The greatest illusion in the contemplative life is the conviction that the financial support of the monastery is the key problem and the critical concern of community life. This has never been. true. The critical factor in con-templative life is the cultivation of intimacy with God and the fashioning of a pattern of life to enable every single member to do exactly that. As soon as the mere support of the monastery becomes the primary con-cern, "practicality" takes over and Divine Providence goes right out the windows. God blesses the monastery only to the extent that it is an oasis for leisure with God. Then blessings for the support of the life come 67.1 2008 Stevens ¯ The Institute of lmpracticalities in abundance, mysteriously, magnanimously, for God takes care of his genuine lovers, and they are never in want--for anything. The basic principle for the financial support of a monastery is this: Will the God for whom we have forsaken the world of business and commerce and the piling up of even legitimate wealth be any less gener-ous with us than the stock market and margin of profit would have been if we had devoted our lives to that? There is one answer: God will not only second our efforts by the action of his prov-idence; he will anticipate our needs. Those who doubt this usually are willing to sacrifice something of solitude, something of silence, something of contemplative tranquillity, and something of intimacy with God for so-called "practical" reasons. God usually gives them what they want, but that is all. The deeper gift for which they have forsaken all is denied them, for the simple reason that they have lost the hunger for it. A strange kind of practicality. The ancient monks made it clear that the treasurer of the monastery was the Providence of God. This does not mean that they did not work or made no provision for the morrow. It just means that they were not depen-dent upon their own efforts: even their own efforts had to be blessed by God. They simply did .not depend on bank accounts or huge commercial enterprises to sup-port their monastic life. God's providence, and their own efforts under that providence, were their only security. This is certainly "impractical" as far as the normal business of human life is concerned, but the monk is not in the normal business of living. He has made God his companion and his passion, and, while he works hard Review for Relig4ous to support his monastic life, he is not dependent upon the "economy." Monks work hard, but simply are not concerned about where their money will come from. It comes, when it is needed, from their own labor or from the action of Providence. As a matter of fact, the monk has become a monk to be free from those kinds of concerns, and, if he wants to get involved in them, God usually lets him have his way, but the intimacy with God that is - the heart of his existence and his chief preoccupation slips from his fingers. His hope and expectation are not really in God, but in the margin of profit, in the interest on stocks and bonds, or in the sale of the next crop. The treasury of Divine Providence never runs out, and God richly supplies his lovers with everything. Those who doubt that have all kinds of arguments to the con-trary, but what they do not have is that closeness to him for which they became monks in the first place. In this day of huge commercial enterprises, financial scandals in religion, and the juggling of stock portfolios and investment opportunities, we have to steer clear of anything that resembles the placing of our security in money. Every monastery needs money, and the financial support of the monastery has to be provided for. But the financial support of a monastery comes from God and his providence and not from the juggling of investments and the margin of profit. When a monastery truly needs money, it comes in bundles, from the most unexpected Monks work hard, but simply are not concerned about where their moneywill come from. 67.1 2008 Stevens ¯ The Institute of lmpracticalities places, and there is no need to buy mailing lists and carry on massive mail solicitations to accomplish this. If there is any choice between depending on a fat bank account and depending on Divine Providence, there is no doubt where the choice would have to be. Certainly not in the bank account, which can fail for all kinds of reasons, but Divine Providence never fails. We have only to look around us to see the disas-ters that occur from an opposite conviction. The clas-sical image is that of the wheeling-and-dealing Father Urban in J.E Powers's Morte d'Urban, who is convinced that hobnobbing with the rich and mighty is the sur-est way to. ensure the prosperity of his congregation. Or the tragic monsignor in John Gregory Dunne's True Confessions who found himself embroiled in scandals and political intrigues unworthy of his office because of his concern about money for the "good of the church." As Paul Evdokimov hasindicated, certain biblical truths get lost in centuries of overgrowth, and from time to time we have to be recalled to the startling dyna-mism of the gospel. It is no visionary enthusiasm that brings religious to their utter dependence upon Divine Providence and reminds them of God's loving care. But they forget that, as redeemed human beings, they are enfolded in his love, and that his benevolence is the very basis of their creation. What they need to recall is a profound metaphysical and theological truth: everything in human life is part of the philanthropy of God, and it is by the exercise of that philanthropy that the inacces-sible God makes himself accessible to our experience. From the generosity of the Godhead comes every gift with which we are endowed and every benefit of our human condition. That includes the margin of profit and whatever benefit we gain from economic prosperity. Review for Religious Even those who do not depend upon Divine Providence are dependent upon it. It is simply human shortsighted-ness that does not see the beneficent God behind the human drama. The wisdom of the saints ends up being the most practical of impracticalities. Some Texts "In building, we need not act as people in the world do. They first get the money and then begin to build, but we must do iust the opposite. We will begin to build and then expect to receive what is necessary. The Lord God will not be outdone in generosity." -- St. Alphonsus Liguori "The more you abandon to God the care of tem-poral things, the more he will take care to provide for all your needs; but if, on the contrary, you try to supply all your own needs, Providence will allow you to con-tinue to do just that, and then it may well hhppen that even the necessities will be lacking, God thus reproving you for want of faith and reliance on him." -- St. John Baptist de La Salle "Now is God not able to send, perhaps tomorrow, sacks of money to my door?" -- St. Camillus de Lellis And see Paul Evdokimov, The Sacrament of Love (Crestwood, N.Y.: St. Vladimir Seminary Press, 1985). 67.1 2008 M. REGINA VAN DEN BERG Enclosure and Other Ways to Widen One's Horizons Tfte practice and rule of enclosure in the convent is en misunderstood, by those who oppose it and those who defend it. It is misunderstood as a way of keeping the world and its evils out, of limiting contact with the world. Enclosure actually succeeds in doing quite the opposite: it enlarges the world. Rather than keeping the world out, it confronts us with it. Rather than keeping evil out, it forces us to face it. Rather than limiting our world, it expands our horizons. It is not only enclosure that expands our horizons: other prac-tices of the religious life do so too. The other practices include common meals, prayers, and recreation, limited use of television, internet, telephone, and email, and also limited travels and visitors as well. The reader may think I am playing with words, for it seems paradoxical at best that all the above-men- M. Regina van den Berg FSGM taught philosophy at Seminary Rolduc in Roermond, the Netherlands. She recently moved to Mater Ecclesiae Convent; 4510 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious tioned practices serve to widen our horizons. It is" not my intention, however, to play with words, but rather to point out a common mistaken notion that "experiencing the world" and "widening one's horizons" are incom-patible with enclosure and other such practices. In his essay "On Certain Modern Writers and the Institution of the Family," in Heretics, G.K. Chesterton makes the essential distinctions upon which I base this article.1 Chesterton uses the distinction to defend the institu-tion of the family; I apply it to the religious life. When people say that they want to "experience the world" or "widen their horizons," they commonly mean that they want to increase their knowledge of the world and the things in it. They want to do this by learning or by experiencing, virtually or firsthand. It is nearly super-fluous to point out that modern technology enables us to learn and experience all manner of things with the greatest ease and speed. We can experience the world in so many ways: by traveling, by looking at internet sites, by watching television, by communicating via the internet with people we have never met face-to-face, by joining clubs. It is obvious that enclosure and the other religious-life practices I mentioned allow at best a limited experience of the world in this sense. These various experiences of the world, however, have some common elements. For one, the knowledge we gain and the experiences we have often do not affect us as persons. They do not make demands on us as per-sons. We, after all, select the experience we want to have: the persons we want to be with, the places we want to go. We choose people who are agreeable to us, and when we travel we want to relax, not be challenged. Perhaps we look on the internet or watch television to learn, but often just to be entertained. However inter- 67.1 2008 van den Berg, * Enclosure and Other Ways to Widen One's Horizons However interesting the people we meet on journeys or through the internet, they may ieave our inner world untouchedl esting the people we meet on journeys or through the internet, they may leave our inner world untouched. They do not make us grow in Christian self-knowl-edge. When people truly want a life-changing event, Chesterton says, they could effect "a much more roman-tic and even melo-dramatic change if [they] jumped over the wall into the neighbor's garden. The con-sequences would be bracing.''2 We go on vacations or browse the inter-net because we Want a "change," because we want to escape from the everyday, but escapes may blind us to the here and now. The internet provides a fine example. How easily we become so immersed in it that we lose all sense of time, of the people around us, of duties awaiting us. Analogies limp, but this experience is like taking a photograph. To get as much as possible in the picture, we not only use a wide-angle lens, but we also back up. We become observers. Everything becomes small, and details disappear. There is a lot in thepicture, but we see very little. We do the same when we try to know and experience endlessly new things. Enclosure and the other religious-life practices zoom in, so to speak, on a select portion of the world. This new focus enables us to look more closely at the objects in the picture. We do not step back as observers to take the picture, but we get a vivid three-dimensional picture of a select part of the world by being a part of it ourselves. In a Review for Religious limited environment we begin to see in a different way. Confronted by the reality of the here and now, we begin to see details. We notice more of what is there to be seen. With enclosure and the other religious practices, we find ourselves in a special environment with companions we did not choose. They become real sisters of mine, and I cannot merely observe or ignore them; I must live with them. They are not all like me, even if we share a common vision. Some are of a different temperament than I am; I am irritated by some of their peculiarities. Enclosure makes me live with them, and in learning to love them I am enlarging my world. Once we are at home in our limited environment, the reality that is present to us, it encourages us to notice many details: the sunshine on my face as I sit here, the spider crawling up the wall, the sister next door coughing. Then we can respond to the details: to be grateful for the sunshine, to marvel at the spider, to see if my coughing sister may need something. The present reveals itself as fascinating once we see it from up close. Enclosure does not keep the evil things of the world out. Quite the contrary: in the wideness of the enclo-sure, evil has plenty of room to raise its head. I suspect I am not the only one who thought that my congrega-tion should be grateful that I was deigning to enter the community. Being so used to the company of people of like character and inclination, I had no idea that I could be anything but kind--until I was confronted with sisters who were quite unlike me. Then I began to become humbly grateful that the congregation accepted even someone like me. Those who think that enclo-sure somehow forms and preserves a comfortable space 67.1 2008 van den Berg ¯ Enclosure and Other Ways to W'uten One's Horizons where like-minded people can indulge their whim for a lifetime of silence have never lived in a religious com-munity. Enclosure is demanding. Enclosure has no intention of satisfying selfish desires for privacy, for a place where we can escape from the world. It is rather the case that we impose enclosure upon ourselves because we know our human weakness. Knowing that we sometimes would like to escape from the demands of the enclosed world, we bind ourselves to it as self-protection for our weak moments. There is a sense, of course, in which enclosure creates a certain "place apart," but not in the sense of privacy. Privacy in the sense of "my space" would not be compatible with the vows and total surrender of religious life. But the silent place apart is intended to widen horizons, to attune us to the reality of God's presence. As an aid to communion with him, enclosure widens our horizons beyond our imagining--into the wideness of his eternal being! If readers have agreed with everything so far, they may still maintain that enclosure, even if it opens the door to the world, still seems a terribly boring enter-prise. Imagine a life without travel, without television, without internet, without a change of companions. Is this not a recipe for boredom? At least, the reader may surmise, the apostolic religious still have the excitement of the apostolate, the possibility of being transferred, but the contemplative nuns must even forgo that. Add to enclosure the regular routine of the religious life, and the recipe for a dull life seems foolproof. But here, too, Chesterton makes an excellent point. People travel far and wide in search of adventure, but when they do so they by definition fail. They fail because "adventure" refers to something that happens to us (peradventure, Review for Religious by chance), not to something that we attain or that we can find. When we plan a vacation, we know what to expect and plan it often to the smallest detail. But in everyday life in enclosure, one never knows what to expect--here is adventure! And, to quote Chesterton once more, "the thing which keeps life romantic and full of fiery possibilities is the existence of these great plain limitations which force all of us to meet the things we do not like or do not expect.''3 Not only are there two divergent ways of experienc-ing the world, but, I maintain, one is better and truer than the other. The first way of widening our horizon often fails to touch and change us as persons. It tends to make us observers of life, not participants; we avoid the challenges that help us grow. It can more accurately be described as an escape from the world. The truer way to experience the world, the way of enclosure, widens our horizons and opens us up to the drama of good and evil, to the graces of the present moment. This reality is demanding and life-changing. Enclosure, the common life, a~d the limited use of media and communication all serve to reveal and enlarge our world--but not by logical necessity. People can enlarge their world through travels and narrow their world in the enclosure, but those are the exceptions rather than the rule. Those who run into the enclosure to escape from the world discover all too soon that they have run in the wrong direction. Their escape from the world is to be found elsewhere: in the often world-nar-rowing experiences of the media and in other self-selected experiences that do not demand much from us. It is not surprising that the practice of enclosure is paradoxical, that by limiting physical space and limiting our experiences we in fact enlarge our experience. The 67.1 2008 van den Berg * Enclosure and Otber Ways to V~ulen One's Horizons Christian faith is founded on paradox. Through Jesus' death we receive life. Through the seemingly world-nar-rowing experience of the enclosure and other religious practices, the horizons of our hearts and minds can be expanded to God and to his concerns and to his world. And that, precisely, is the point of enclosure. The Weaver Weave the threads. Brown for the earth, Red for the fire, Blue for the air, Silver for the water. Weave the threads. Brown for humus, Red for passion, Blue for reason, Silver for the spirit. Weave the threads. Brown the Father, Red for His Son, Blue His Mother, Silver the Comforter. Weave the threads. Fibre of God. Fibre of men. Fibre of life. Weave into harmony, One in the Cosmic dance. Sister Margaret Anne OHP Review for Reli~ous ANTHONY MALAVIARATCHI Religious Brotherhood Today I n attempting to say what it means to be a religious rother today, we must be clear about what broth-erhood is. To discover afresh the most effective way of being a religious brother today, we must look at the tradition of brotherhood in the church. The brotherhood of Jesus and his ordinary follow-ers (Mt 23:8) and the brotherhood of Jesus and his spe-cially chosen disciples, the apostles (Mk 3:13-15), are already two strands of brotherhood at the very outset. Both were meant for the proclamation of the kingdom of God. The brotherhood of the first Christian com-munity in Jerusalem was~ meant to give witness to Jesus' resurrection. The brotherhood of religious life started with cenobitical life. The lone hermits became com-munities of brothers receiving spiritual guidance from abbas (fathers, animators). This kind of brotherhood Anthony Malaviaratchi CSSR, a former theology professor and for-mator now doing retreat work, presented this paper at a brothers' convention in Sri Lanka. His address is Santa Maria; George E. Silva Ma~atha; Kandy, Sri Lanka. anthonymalavi@yahoo.com 67.1 2008 Malaviaratcbi ¯ Religlou~ Brotherhood Today was making a united and concerted effort to live the gospel radically. Brotherhood in History In the period that followed, brotherhood began a new phase. Penitents entered "monasteries" and gradu-ally became members or at least began to live the life of the community. There seems to be no historical connection between th~se "penitent brothers" and-the stream of brothers popularly known as "teaching broth-ers." In the 17th century St. John Baptist de la Salle brought together a group of teachers to educate the badly neglected children of poor working-class families. So did St. Marcellin Champagnat in. the 19th century. Disillusioned by the growing secularism in French soci-ety and its impact on youth, the founder of the Marist brothers established schools for the underprivileged. The Brothers of Charity came together to care for poor workmen, the sick, and the mentally handicapped. Brotherhood: A Prophetic Lifestyle Teaching the poor and marginalized is not an exci~- ing apostolate today. It does not hit the headlines of even Catholic newspapers. That is because so many religious congregations have been doing it for three hundred years. At their origin the education of the underprivileged was simply not being taken care of by anybody. When Edmund Rice, founder of the Christian Brothers, began his teaching, the education of Catholics was illegal in Ireland. Religious life as a prophetic move-ment was reincarnated through works of mercy. The brothers, influenced by St. Vincent de Paul's Daughters of Charity, did what the society of the time failed or refused to do. They brought a strange but nevertheless Review for Religious refreshing message that drew the attention of the world as Mother Teresa did in our times. That was the secret of their success. Congregations of brothers, therefore, need to ask: How can we be prophetic today? What must we do to convey God's message afresh? What is it that society refuses to do today and would convey a prophetic mes-sage if we did it? Today many works of mercy, including teaching, are no longer prophetic. Many others do them now. Governments have undertaken the tasks of teaching, nursing, running orphanages and technical schools, and so forth. ~ Congregations of brothers, But we need to remember that it was the example of religious con-gregations dedi- - cated to serving the earthly well-being of those in need that paved the way for governments and other secular organizations to take up welfare services. therefore, need to ask: How can we be prophetic today ? Institutions and Status Brothers' institutions do excellent work, much appreciated especially by the laity. But the institutions give the impression of material well-being, security, and status, especially in the third world. Brotherhood, of course, has less status than the priesthood, which is one of the reasons why brothers have fewer vocations. Nevertheless, brothers' institutions do have status. To all appearances the vast majority of those who want to join our communities come not because they have 67.1 2008 Malaviaratcbi * Religious Brotherhood Today heard Christ's call to radical discipleship but because they are attracted by the status and security of the insti-tutions. In factl congregations that do not have institu-tions have few vocations. Widespread unemployment and lack of talent for modern cutthroat competition seem to be the underlying reasons for the many "voca-tions" in the third world. Unfortunately, in too many instances the enjoyment of status and security continues to be the lifelong hidden motivation. As their numbers dwindle, the brothers are being for+ed to give up their apostolic commitments one by one. For various reasons such as pressure from bishops and priests, parents, and old boys [alumni] and because of understandable emotional attachments, the most prestigious institutions will be the last to be given up. This will worsen the image of the brothers and con-sequently the quality of the vocations they get. Since many hold on to their status and security, it is most unlikely that radical measures will be taken. And so the faster religious life in its present form dies, the better it is. For then God will be able to raise radical disciples for Christ from the stones of the earth (Mt 3:9). Congregations, Too, Die Part of the crisis of religious life is the probability, if not the certainty, of dying out and entering the annals of history. The reality of death looms over all reality except over the only Real One. Heaven and earth must pass away, the church must pass away (Rv 21:1-2, Heb 12:22). Even the kingdom of Christ must pass away into the kingdom of the Father (1 Co 15:24-28). If all this is true, then our congregations can hardly be eternal. We must pass away when we have adequately served God's eternal designs. If so, our dying as a group, Review for Religious with all its glory and achievements, will also be a ser-vice. Even the thought of it can be a painful, if not traumatic, experience. It is surely a historical moment when God calls us to bring our self-offering to a climax by embracing his plans in the darkness of faith. Like our Divine Master, we too may be called to give life to oth-ers by an unquali-fied submission to God's designs. In the glorious days of the brotherhood in the church, our faith may not have been so much in God as in our numbers, institutions, and achievements. Our group's willing submission to God's unknown ways will bring life to the world in an abundance which our congregational achievements could never even dream of matching. The history of salvation unequiVocally offers all believers a planofaction in time of crisis. The Remnant The history of salvation unequivocally offers all believers a plan ~of action in time of crisis. It may be new to us who have got used to large numbers, but it is a beaten path in salvation history. The faithful were often led by God to negotiate crises by means of the Remnant. The word remnant indicates how great the destruc-tion of God's people will be. "Only a remnant will remain" (Is 10:22). Surely Christ had in mind a remnant when he called his disciples "little flock" (Lk 12:32) and when he said "Many are called but few are chosen." In the Scriptures the remnant is a tiny minority of those 67.1 2008 Malaviaratchi ¯ Religious Brotherhood Today leading religious lives in the eyes of God. These few continue to believe and remain faithful in the midst of widespread infidelity. The concept shows punishment for sin and God's faithfulness, which remains untouched by human infidelity. The faith in the remnant is an essential aspect of hope in the Bible. The Remnant Today If, as religious, brothers are to have hope, they must first realize that it is to run institutions that large num-bers are needed, whereas to give witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ a few are more than enough. These few must turn back to their founders and rediscover that it is exclusively for Christ's gospel that they were brought together in the first place. Second, they need to adopt a prophetic lifestyle and thus become clearly visible signs: Their lifestyle will be visible: ¯ (1) if they have a community lifestyle that is tangibly religious, that is, God-centered with a strong contemplative dimension. ¯ (2) if they live this life not in legal rigidity but in evangelical fidelity. This needs special attention since post-Vatican II freedom has often resulted in Western permissiveness. As a part of this evangelical fidelity, those who fail to live this life should be asked to leave whenever the superior, with the com-munity, comes to that conclusion. ¯ (3) if they embrace a clearly visible life of poverty, that is,can external life of utter simplicity. In every reform movement within reli-gious life, there has been a return to radical simplicity. Our world in the clutches of consumerism is crying for a modern-day Francis of Assisi. ¯ (4) if they engage in a service that others do not do and reach out to people whom society does not care for. In this way, small groups of brothers will create a Review for Religious counterculture which the Union of Superiors General has described as one with "passion for Christ and pas-sion for humanity." They will give prophetic witness to the spiritual dimension of human life in a world of increasing secularism, to brotherly lives and work in a world of increasing individualism, to evangelical sim-plicity in a world of increasing consumerism, to God's preferential love for those that society does not care about in a world of increasing self-centeredness. In a word, religious brotherhood will be prophetic through and through, a transparently radical form of discipleship of Christ. Zen°Poem for Thomas Merton For Brother Anthony Weber OCSO Abbey of the Genesee A white cloud Near a picket fence Close to a white rose, Walked a white-habited Trappist Praying an ivory beaded rosary Ignoring a cawing crow Noticing a disappearing cloud; Flower petals falling, The fence rotting; His scapular, dusty With prayers ascending, Approaching darkness Amid a forested hermitage. William J. Bly 73 67.1 2008 VINCENT GENOVESI Room for Sacramental Reconciliation? spiritual supports We would quickly recognize the mockery made of love were lovers to ask each other only "What must I do to avoid hurting you?" We expect lovers to share a deeper ambition: "What more can I do to show my love for you?''l The same is true of our relationship with God. When our commitment to our spir-itual and moral growth is seen as a response to God's invitation to love, it would be rather insulting to play at love and revel in testing love's limits. As honest and true lovers, we do not spend time anxiously determining how far we can go before our love relationship with God is strained to the breaking point. Instead, our earnest desii'e is to discover how we can foster that relationship. It is in this context that we come to under-stand more fully the meaning of human sinful- V'mcent Genovesi sJ is professor of theology and campus minister at Saint Joseph's University; 261 City Avenue; Merion Station, Pennsylvania 19066. vgenoves@sju.edu Review for Religious ness. Sin is best understood not so much as an isolated act, but rather as a relational reality. It is deliberately breaking our love relationship with God (mortal sin) or knowingly straining that relationship (venial sin). Of course, our love relationship with God is played out largely in our human relationships. St. John reminds us that, if we profess to love God while failing to love our neighbor, we are liars; we cannot love God, whom we have never seen, if we do not love the neighbors whom we see every day (1 Jn 4:20). It is important, too, that we remember the testimony of human experience--that any love relationship can suffer from thoughtless neglect and eventually die without our notice. To grow as faithful Christians, we must ultimately make decisions for ourselves, but it is folly to believe we can or should make all decisions simply on our own, without any help. Yes, we entrust our moral life to the guidance of our conscience, provided, of course, that we have first honestly, carefully, and prayerfully sought to inform our conscience properly. Even when we do this, however, we do not always live as we know we should. We get off track, and it becomes helpful or even neces-sary to seek guidance, encouragement, and exhortation. At times like these the sacrament of reconciliation can offer assistance, especially when we are not in regular dialogue with a spiritual director. Behind Catholicism's centuries-old practice of sacramental confession, there is a wisdom whose depth can be more appreciated in light of Vatican Council II's theological insights and psychology's contribution to a fuller understanding of the human person. Still, many sincere Catholics, even priests and religious, question the usefulness or neces-sity of the rite of reconciliation. Such questioning must be addressed. 67.1 2008 Genovesi * Room for Sacramental Reconciliation? Doing Wrong versus Sinning As background for our discussion, it helps to recall that Catholics are expected to confess serious or mor-tal sins at least once a year.2 Significantly, the accus-ing is done by ourselves. ("Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.") Sins are committed only by sinners--people who freely decide to live in various ways that they know to be hurtful to their own well-being and/or the well-being of others, and so must judge themselves to be unloving and in the wrong. In acknowledging that entering into sin requires both knowledge and freedom on our part, Catholic tradition teaches that no one sins by accident--just as no one truly loves by accident. Both to love and to sin are choices or decisions. Interestingly, St. Thomas Aquinas did not think it likely that persons who are honestly trying to live as good Christians would easily or frequently rupture their love relationship with God by choosing to sin seriously: "Although grace is lost by a single act of mortal sin, it is not, however, easily lost. For the person in grace does not find it easy to perform such an act because of a contrary inclination." Aquinas means that it is pre-cisely our love for God and others that will make it difficult for us to sin, or deliberately do anything that would put our love relationship in jeopardy.3 In light of Aquinas's teaching, and in keeping with the true nature of love, we may conclude that, although it is possible to sin mortally in one particular act, it is not always a simple matter to isolate that act. It is not likely, in other words, that we would sin mortally in an act that is totally out of our character, or in an act that we have not predisposed ourselves toward. Rather, our relation-ship of love for God and others will probably change and deteriorate before there is any outright rupturing of Review for Religious the union, which is why we must be all the more atten-tive to the daily responsibilities of love. In essence, all sins of commission are expressions of "the one great sin of omission, failure to love.''4 While this failure offends God, we too suffer as a result of our sinfulness insofar as we come to find ourselves within the narrow confines of self-centeredness. It is a confinement that brings with it a death penalty, for in failing to love we become members of the living dead (1 Jn 3:14-15). Thomas Aquinas acknowledges the human destructiveness of sin when he says that sin is indeed an offense against God, but that "God is offended only by those things that we do against our own true welfare.''5 Although:.some of our actions may be undeniably hurtful and wrong, our tradition reminds us that we are not always or n, ecessarily morally guilty of sinning in doing these things. Indeed, the Catechism of the Catholic Church notes that "imputability and responsi-bility for an action can be diminished or even nullified by ignorance, inadvertence, duress, fear, habit, inordinate attachments, and other psychological or social factors" (§1735). A similar idea appears later in the Catechism: "Unintentional ignorance can diminisl~ or even remove the imputability of a grave offense . The promptings of feelings and passions can also diminish the voluntary and free character of the offense, as can external pres-sures or pathological disorders" (§ 1860). We do well to All sins of commission are expressions of ",the one great sin of omission, failure to love." 67.1 2008 Genovesi * Room for Sacramental Reconciliation? remember, however, that if because of our insensitivity, lack of awareness, or curtailed freedom we are not guilty of sin when doing something that is in fact hurtful and wrong, we have no cause for self-satisfaction and com-placency. The less sensitive, aware, and free we are, the less we are fully human. Therefore, whatever stands in our lives as an obstacle to our free commitment in love is to be seen as something to overcome in our growth toward maturity as human beings and as Christians. In no way should this obstacle be relished as excusing us from sin, because the sad truth is that even without sin we may regrettably have done something hurtful to our-selves and others and are all too able to do so again. Three Reasons for this Sacrament In light of what it means to be a sinner--knowingly and freely failing or refusing to love God and others--it is clear that it is not the role of the priest-confessor, nor is it within his power, to determine definitively whether the penitent has or has not sinned, or how .serious that sin may be. In fact, no human being can rightly call another human being a sinner because reading another person's mind and heart is the prerogative of God alone. Thus the Catechism of the Catholic Church states that, "although we can judge that an act is in itself a grave offense, we must entrust judgment of persons to the justice and mercy of God" (§1861). And so it does us all good to remember that "God does not see as man sees; man looks at appearances but God looks at the heart" (1 S 16:7). Why, then, encourage the sacrament of rec-onciliation? I offer three reasons: the social nature of life and sin, the incarnational dimension of our Catholic tradition, and the moral growth that comes from hum-bly taking possession of our sinfulfiess. Review for Religious The Social Nature of Life and Sin: We need a deeper sense today of the social implications of our sinfulness. No sin is totally private, because in sinning we produce a change within ourselves that invariably influences our dealings with others. Thus no sin really remains "secret"; its effects will somehow leave a trail. Furthermore, whenever we hurt someone, we also hurt all those, including God, who love and care about that person. This means that an appropriate expres-sion of our sor-row should include seeking forgiveness and admitting publicly that our sinfulness has alienated or distanced us from both God and our neighbors. T.he sacrament of reconciliation serves this purpose, for through our encounter with the priest, who is both God's servant-representative to penitents and the people's minister before God, we testify to our desire to be reintegrated into the community of God's love and the company of his people. It is possible that appredation of the social nature of sin would be enhanced were parishes to pro-vide communal penance services more frequently. Catholicism's Incarnational Dimension: Moreover, pre-cisely as human beings who live as body-spirits, it is tremendously helpful for us to incarnate, "flesh out" or "enact," our sorrow and our need for forgiveness through recourse to sacramental confession. In addi-tion, God wants to "enact" his forgiveness of us through Whenever we hurt someone, we aiso hurt all those, including God, wh~; love and care " about that person. 67.1 2008 Genovesi ¯ Room for Sacramental Recondliation? the priest's guidance and comfort. And so, just as Christ puts flesh on our Father's love for us, so the words of absolution put flesh on Christ's forgiveness and mercy. Fortunately, too, I think, many priests today are deeply sensitive to the essentially social and incarnational dimensions of Christian living. As a result, in assign-ing a sacramental penance, they ask penitents to move beyond simple recitation of formal prayers and to seek reconciliation with God and neighbor through spe

Issue 61.2 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Examen .Living with God Growing Older Religious Eife Perspectives MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 Review for Relig4ous helps people respond and be faithful ~ to God's universal call to holiness by making available ~to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of CathOlic consecratea life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org 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 Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written applicatign to the Editor, Review for Religious. L VING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Afin Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp ~Adarmiaens G~.nadu dJoinan S. CFelling Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos'A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CsJ MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 contents 118 feature Examen: Persons in Relationships Joseph A. Tetlow sJ provides new insights by focusing examen on our many personal relationships in daily life. 129 137 living with God No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today Karen Karper Fredette surveys some of the different forms eremitical life has taken in a fresh flowering in church life today. Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions James J. Magee defines metaphysical self as one's self residing in God and God residing in it and then examines this term as it appears in Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufl) mysticism. 146 growing older Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush Geraldine M. Wodarczyk CSFN reflectively enters us into her six-year experience of living among her own congregation's aging and prayerful sisters. Review for Religious 166 Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly Helen Jean Novy HM proposes some spiritual considerations to guide our responses to the repetitiousness of sick/elderly people. 169 religious ~i~e perspectives Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal Joan Wagner ssJ focuses on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings that nourish religious community life. 183 The Decline of Religious Life: A Success Story Michael Dominic W. Ledoux OFM asks whether the next task for religious congregations is to let go of our hold on institutions and ministries and allow them to find a charism based upon their own stories and histories rather than being too strongly attached to religious communal stories. " 191 Membership and Leadership: An Organic Whole Beatrice M. Eichten OSF sketches out the patterns of interworking between leaders and members that enhance effective leadership in community life. flepar men s 116 Prisms 202 Canonical Counsel: Exclaustration: Further Considerations 211 Book Reviews March-April 2002 115 prisms Jesus' transfiguration was a favorite passage of the Jesuit paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. With his own description of evo-lution progressing by crossing thresholds, he found the transfigured Jesus giving promise of crossing the threshold from being Jesus a marginal Jew to being the risen Christ Pantocrator. Whatever our response to evolutionary theory, the crossing of thresholds gives insight into words and images used to describe the mysteries of our Catholic faith. We seem to be unaware that in faith we have crossed a .threshold between commonsense language and language bursting with faith realities. For exam-ple, our scripture and prayer language in the Lenten and Easter seasons describes redemption as our being purchased at a price. Sometimes this has led to the preaching and imaging of God paying off the devil by Jesus' passion and death. So we--the human race-- were bought at the cost of Jesus' death in order to release us from the grip of the evil one. At other times, it seems that our language has seen God as being appeased or satisfied by the pain and suffering and blood shed by his Son. And we have wondered: What kind of God is this? The New Testament writers built upon the imagery of the Hebrew Scriptures and presumed a poetic under-standing of the religious world. Following Scripture and inspired by their own culture and times, theolo-gians, artists, and spiritual writers over the centuries have all contributed, with mixed results, to various ways of understanding and celebrating the central mystery of our salvation/redemption. In the United States, with R~view for Reli~o~s our sometimes sanitized religious worship removing us from devotional or emotional involvement, we still tend to slip back to a rather morbid focusing on physical pain and the shedding of blood in Lenten prayer and especially in the Holy Week triduum. Perhaps we find ourselves praying with an unhealthy fixation on pain and suffering as the way to God. We need to acknowledge that Holy Thursday has more than just a chronological precedence to Good Friday. The Eucharist is key to a solidly Christian approach to the Passion and Cross, one that is psychologically and spiritually sound and healthy. As St. Ignatius Loyola points out, Jesus' institution of the Eucharist is "the greatest mark of his love." We may be surprised that it is not Jesus' passion and death that help us to understand the Eucharist, but it is the other way around. The Eucharist shows us that Jesus holds nothing back from us in his love. He gives all that he is, sacramentally, to be the food and drink of our life, a life in the same bloodline as God. The word redeemer from its Hebrew derivation points to one taking on the obligations of blood or familial relationship. In itself redeemer does not imply pain or suffering. In the Hebrew Scriptures redeemer describes God in this familial relation to his chosen people. In Jesus we see God fulfilling the redemption of all peoples. By instituting the Eucharist, Jesus intends that the sacramental "nowness" of a blood relationship--the reality of our being adopted as God's sons and daughters--is to be celebrated in our daily living. We have the saying that "love costs." On Holy Thursday Jesus is showing sacramentally that he pays whatever it costs. That is how much he loves us and loves his Father. All our scrip-tural words about payment--ransoming us with his blood, pur-chasing us for a price, and so on--are images, sometimes confusingly used, looking towards the heartfelt truth that "love costs." But God is not paying off anyone. Jesus is not buying us back from the devil. It is the reality that "love costs." Jesus shows us the face of the God who does not count the cost to show his love. The Eucharist is our key to all the events of the Passion and Death. The key presents itself to us every time we look at the crucifix, every time we come forward for Communion. We are invited to cross a faith threshold, thereby experiencing anew God as Love and our identity as beloved. David L. Fleming SJ II7 March-April 2002 JOSEPH A. TETLOW feature Examen: Persons in Relationships You are likely to take account of your relationships with others whe'never you make the examen that St. Ignatius Loyola recommends. But why? Deep down in our own hearts, is there not plenty for God and me to do, without distractions from all sides? Actually, no, and for good reasons. The first reason comes from revelation. The human person is created in the likeness of a God who is One only and also Three Persons. This impenetra-ble mystery reveals to us that each of the Persons has identity only in and through the relations among the Three. It is in that likeness that your own "person" is modeled: you are a person only in your relationships. You will always be your mother's child and your father's offspring, always your siblings' brother or sis-ter. Moreover, it is in and through those relationships and others--teachers, neighbors, friends, even ene-mies- that you have become the person you are. To tell who Jesus of Nazareth is, Matthew begins with a genealogy. After telling about incarnation and birth, he goes right to Jesus' relationship with John the Baptist. Joseph A. Tedow SJ last wrote for us in September-October 1998. His address is Secretariate for Ignatian Spirituality; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma Prati; Italy. Review for Religious Here is the second reason, closer to the everyday, for doing this exercise. You are always relating to your family, where per-sonhood (self) takes early shape and within which you continue to develop throughout life. You work with others, creating another set of day-to-day relationships. You may belong to a religious community, requiring you to develop a subtle lifelong set of relationships with persons whom God has chosen for you. You may belong to an apostolic team--parish, school, center, hospital, program--which requires cooper-ation and planning. All of these relation-ships require attention and prayer, since "we are all parts of one another" and together we make up the Body of Christ (Rm 12:5). As a very practical matter, this exercise might be a regular part of the prayer of those who work in apostolic partnerships. These are not simple in the church today, and a lot of "personality conflicts" disguise rather dis-orderly emotions and affects. Moreover, a lot of apostolic planning and community planning gets scuttled because of unre-flected- upon personal relationships. Teams and communities commonly blame "the process" for failed planning, when the actual problem is the relationships among the members. This examen, besides helping you know whom to thank God for, helps reveal and even heal such dysfunctional relationships. There are reasons why everyone would benefit from this special exercise. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. One consequence affects the examen. Even when examining how you are getting along with others, you tend to focus on your own part in the relationship-- "How am I doing?"mand less on the other or on the relation-ship itself. This exercise challenges that focus on the self. It draws you to appreciate, for the right reasons, the people whom God has put into your life. "Each of us should think of our neighbors and help them to become stronger Christians" (see Rm 15:2). You enact individualism by thinking about yourself in isolation rather than in relationships with others. This examen asks you to look directly at the others in your life and the relationships that hold you together in Christ. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. 119 March-April 2002 Tetlow * Examen Your relationships are where, and the deepest reason why, you exercise the virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude, and tem-perance and a host of others that are needed in order to love the way Jesus loves. Relationships, especially your family and community relationships but also your apostolic and job rela-tionships, are where you give in to sins of pride, covetousness, lust, envy, anger, gluttony, and sloth. If you find this hard to believe, perhaps you really need to do this exercise for a while. Here is the last and ultimate reason to use an examen specif-ically about your relationships: to make sure you are loving the way Jesus loves. Ignatius's Contemplation on Love--the more descriptive title would be "Contemplation to learn to love the way God loves"--begins with two prenotes. The first is that love "ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words," and the second is that love consists in constantly sharing, the lover and the beloved giving and receiving in open generosity (SpEx §231). This is how Jesus loves, always in relationship with the Other and the others. This exercise takes you directly to the issue whether you are loving as Jesus loved or are, in actu-ality, doing something else. Practicing the Exercise What is recommended here can be used as a single exercise, in which case it will require a long period of quiet time. It has been used profitably as the material for an eight-day retreat. Once you have gone through it for a while, however, you will know which parts of it to apply on a given day or occasion. You will know that sometimes you need to run through and examine all of your relationships: family, friends, work, community mem-bers, parish council, and so forth. At other times you will want to examine something that has happened, like a disagreement that left you far more unsettled than the matter deserved, or a deci-sion not to phone someone. This exercise will help you to uncover your true purposes, responses, and responsibilities. You can think about one partner or colleague; you can look at one group or committee or team. And so on. (The exercise as it is given here is divided into five sections, following its Ignatian inspiration.) First, taking time to thank God for those whom the Spirit has put into your life. A good way to do this is by making three columns Review for Religious on a sheet of paper. In the first, write some names (parent, sibling, friend, coworker), choosing those who belong to the period you are covering. If you are moving historically through your life, you would begin with parents or grandparents; if you are covering your life situation today, you would name the people with .whom you relate regularly. In the second column, across from each name, write the relationship you have with this person. You might want to add some details beyond a mere title. For instance, to "childhood friend" you might add "first date"; to parent, "died too young"; to colleague, "real partner." This assigning of titles may not be entirely simple. Choosing the appropriate title for a sibling.who is also a lifelong inti-mate friend and a business partner would take some thought--thought precisely about the relationship that you are given and choosing. Then, in the third column, for which you will need plenty of space, describe the relationship you have with this person. How has this person helped shape your self and your life, in the past or more recently? For instance, "rooted me in Christ" about a deeply religious and well-informed parent who established you in your faith. A trust-worthy friend may have told you the truth about yourself and your opinions and decisions, bringing you to know yourself before God. This step will give you grounds for a good deal of thanksgiving. Someone taught you to read and write. Someone showed you how to play your favorite sport. Someone intro-duced you to the Scripture.s. Someone challenged you to for-giveness because he or she not only hurt your feelings but did you harm. Someone may have betrayed you as Judas betrayed your Master. In this examen you probe how you relate to these people, not only how you feel about them, but especially what you have done and are doing in this relationship. In every instance your Creator and Lord is giving you an array of gen-erous gifts, sometimes surprising ones, freely and constantly, gifts for you to be thankful for. There is no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only good for you. 12I March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen People know that there is, no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only "good for you. So here is occasion to name the influences that such persons have had on your values and choices. You may well have adopted a friend's special perspective on the church or on parenting. You may become a member of a solid program because a friend invited you into it. You may have made a life-shaping choice under his or her influence. This point is well worth dwelling on, because through these relationships God is moment by moment creat-ing us as persons. Whom has God put into your life to give it shape? How have they shaped it? How do you relate to them? Here is the core of this exercise. Thanking God for these friends and relations will be incom-plete- and perhaps impossible--unless we consciously approve of how God is even now creating us and those we relate with. If you have an elderly parent who is still clear and keenly interested in your life, that is a great gift. An equally great gift is an elderly parent who depends entirely on you. If you have colleagues who depend on you, that is a gift. So is it when there are colleagues on whom you can depend. And sons or daughters will be their parents' sons or daughters forever, however they may be doing just now. The members of a religious community--real persons--are the living environment of each religious's living, growing, and dying. This exercise asks that you grow conscious of a reality we take so much for granted that we do not think about it at all. How often do you note that the sun rose this morning? How much do you value the water that comes from your tap? We treat our relationships rather like that. They are just there. They do not take thinking about except in special circumstances like an argument or a celebration. But every day each relation is a gift greater than today's sun, and each person given you to love and to be loved by is as indispensable to your thriving as the pure water that you drink without giving it a thought. Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, when you walked this earth you lived a family life with neighbors and friends. When you began to spread the Good News, You gathered around you seventy-two, and twelve, and three, who were precious to you, each in a special way, because Review for Religious the Spirit of Love gave them to you. Never has there been a companion better than you, a colleague more trusting and compassionate, a partner more giving and generous. Help me to know those many, those most special ones whom the Spirit of Love has given me in my life, and, with you, to thank the Father for the gift of them. Amen. Second, asking for attention, insight, and courage. Call on the Holy Spirit to let you pay attention to the others in your life. Ask to feel real interest in others, to get outside yourself and your interior concerns to see the people around you as they are. Ask to pay this attention in the way that God does, who hates nothing he has created and lets rain fall on just and unjust alike. Ask for insight into each person and into your relationship. Some are growing more important in your life, and perhaps some are growing away from you. Ask to know how. Ask the Spirit to let you see what you are looking at, and also to let you hear what you are listening to--from and about those whom the Spirit has given you. Finally, beg for the courage to see clearly and to affirm your connections to others, to feel how they have grown into your life and yourself. How have you reached out to them and perhaps risked something to know and love them? Ask boldness to assert your attachments to others, or your detachment and distanc-ing. Ask to be able to see how another or others are calling you to grow or, alternatively, how another or others are inviting you to be less authentic. Prayer Spirit of the risen Lord, who moved the Holy One to care for friends with his still-wounded hands and pierced heart, make me attentive to my friends even with my fearing toudh and wearing spirit. Open my eyes to see what gifts they really are; open my ears to hear what good they really mean to say. Brace my spirit to feel what they need me to feel. And, as you steeled the heart of Jesus while he lived misunder-stood and then betrayed, brace me now--while I find how I have fared in risking my self--to remain true to who I am ~and to be open in giving and receiving love. Amen. March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen Third, examining how relationships are doing. To begin with, stay with relationships that are going well. Simply look down the three columns you have written and note the name, relation-ship, and influence, and let yourself be contented in Christ with this love that falls into his pattern of loving. Using the columns is an effective way of examining relationships, but there are other ways. You could begin with the persons most closely related to you by blood and move out through extended family to friends. Or begin with the people you spend most of your daytime with, colleagues, coworkers, and so on. You could begin with superiors and move to those who answer to you. All of these steps could be limited to a smaller set of people if that would be useful at this time. Then come to those relationship that are not going well. Possible failures are sometimes glaring, like anger or blatantly selfish action, and sometimes quite subtle and complex. For every relationship is triune: one person, the relationship, and another person, and all three matter. Honestly and exactingly lay five templates (to be described below) over each conflicted or faltering relationship. As you con-template your relationship with each person under each tem-plate, demand an account of yourself, for failures in relationships show up in many ways and manifest many personality limitations or flaws, or simple sins. For instance, perhaps you find yourself saying negative things about an old friend's character. What has happened in this r~lationship and what is your responsibility for it? What are you doing or failing to do that damages the rela-tionship, or the mission you share with this person (or persons)? These failures or dysfunctions can be variously accounted for. One way is by looking at them under five categories (which I borrow from Roberta Gilbert's Extraordinary Relationships). The categories will help you look clearly and honestly at any fal-tering relationship. They will demand that you take your respon-sibility for what you have done, what you are doing, what you must do, to make this relationship a strong and holy one. The Templates 1. Conflict. You cannot come to agreement with another in some serious matter. You have never got- Review for Religious ten over a rancorous argument. You answer each other with "yes, but." You are losing respect for the person. You question whether you can ever work together again. Any of these suggests a relationship of conflict, which is often a hot relationship. 2. Distancing. You hold each other at arm's length. You have become very polite to each other and a lit-tle standoffish. You rarely talk about anything serious; instead, you chat. You would deal as openly and warmly with a stranger. You would simply rather not have to pay attention to this person anymore. You are uncomfortable around him or her. This is distancing, and, though it seems to suggest that you have no relationship with this person, you have--a special one. 3. Cutting Off. You stay out of each other's way. You do not communicate even when you have to convey some information. You simply do not like this per-son. Your judgment is that this person is harming the family, community, apostolate. You would like to be rid of this person. This is a cutoff, and it is an intense relationship. 4. Excessive Mutual Dependency. You depend on each other, too much or far too much. One of you makes the decisions. One of you needs the emotional support of the other, and the other needs to give it. Others see you as a pair. You are cutting others out of this relationship, emotionally or practically. This is excessive dependency--in a way, too much of a relationship. 5. Triangling. You have an issue with another and, instead of going to the other, take it to a third person. You find yourself saying things about this person, not to him or h~r, but to others. You gossip about this person. You complain about his or her shortcomings to others, never to the person. Alternatively, you passively allow others to tell you things about this person which they ought to be saying to him or her. 6. Could there be another template? You may find a March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen better term for a ~elationship in your life that is faltering, a term that clarifies for you what you are doing and might do. The Applications When you are on a team with another, you are not free to remain unrelated. The only issue is how you will choose to relate: whether well or badly, creatively or destructively, and, indeed, holily or unholily--all the more, of course, within your own family or among those who have somehow become your friends. Each of the five templates names a relationship--dysfunc-tional, but a relationship. It is crucial to accept that you are related to a person even when you cut him or her off, or are constantly arguing and debating with him or her, or when you are triangling. Humility demands--since it is truth--that you affirm your own contribution to making a relationship bad, or your cooperation in any dysfunctional relationship. Each of your relationships will have its own intensities, its own occasions, its own mixture of the apostolic, social, intel-lectual, affective, and so on. Each lays on you the light yoke of responsibility to accept the relationship as a gift from God, who is giving you freedom and the chance to love as God loves. When you find that one of the templates describes a current relationship, you will have to look into your heart more deeply to find out what is going on. At the same time, you will have to keep aware that the relationship has its own life and tempo, and that there is always "the other" or "the others." Prayer Jesus of Nazareth, my good brother, you worked with many and loved many. You loved aging laborers and the idle rich. You loved holy sisters and disrep-utable women. You worked with tax collectors and scribes. You chose partners who doubted and one who betrayed. You chose them, accounted for your choices to the Father, and stood by your friends to the end. Let me find my way in sureness and in risk, and give me courage to name those I relate to and clarity to know our shared responsibility. Help me to Review for Religious give my account to the Father and to stand by my friends to the end. Amen. Fourth, asking forgiveness for your sins and healing for those you have wounded and for yourself. "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." This is the only condi-tion in the prayer Jesus taught. You cannot overestimate the weight of forgiving others. Yours, after all, is "the ministry of reconciliation," for you are in mission with Jesus Christ. You cannot expect forgiveness and the experience of reconciliation, except to the extent that you have forgiven and become recon-ciled with others. This is no trivial matter, and as good a reason as any to make an examen something like this one. Pray for those whom you have failed, or offended, or hurt. You need to beg the Spirit of Love to make up for your short-comings. Prayer Holy Triune God, in you, giving and taking barely differ since both are done as love. I have taken and not given. I have given what I did not mean to give and not given what I wish I had, so far, so very far, am I from loving as you love. Grant'me to be close to you in this, at least: that I forgive wholeheartedly those who wound me, as Jesus forgave those who wounded him. And then I ask that you forgive me and make up for all that I have left undone. Amen. F~h, choosing to do one thing tomorrow. You are wise to choose a single act to do, a concrete act like making a phone call (some-times the hardest thing you will do that day) or writing a note. Your discernment brings you to see how you can enact your gratitude to God for the people in your life. You take responsi-bility for your part in the relationship, not trying to redeem, but only to help the other and to bring him or her closer to Christ. You may need to focus on one person: to reconcile, to praise or thank, to enjoy being with. You may need to focus on one group of people like your family or community or colleagues. You may need to focus on yourself: to accept that God is making you a unique lover, to accept others' acceptance of you as you are; or, alternatively, y6u may need to address some habit that you see aggravates others or turns them off. Or you may I27 March-~tprll 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen need to see that you really have entered into in a new relation-ship. Or you may need to get ready for a meeting by spending precious time really preparing for it or praying that you.do well. Finally, you may need to focus on some concrete event that is coming up: an interview, a meeting, a confrontation. Or you may need to focus on some long-term development in a relarionship--unsettling conflict, growing distance, emotional-ities-- so that you can take some concrete action. In all of these focuses, you are trying to keep Jesus' own commandment, "Love one another the way I have loved you." Prayer 0 Lord, reconciler of us to ourselves, the whole world and all rime would barely hold all the acts that love demands of us. I beg you to accept the little act that for this time is what I can and would do to learn to love like you. Amen. Annunciation Holy one, favored one, the Lord is with you. Be it bright angel's word or voices in the dark or cannonball or caress, any manner of invitation is prelude to Yes Holy ones, favored ones, the Lord is with us. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious KAREN KARPER FREDETTE No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today '~e what you are called to be--a passionate seeker of God through continual prayer that allows 'no rapine in the holocaust,'" declares a woman in her seventies dwelling in a rural hermitage in Massachusetts. She emphasizes the total dedication she deems necessary for her chosen vocation--that of a hermit. This apo-dictic statement is culled from 140 responses to a ques-tionnaire sent to 600 hermits and solitaries. The survey was circulated by an international newsletter for her-mits, "Raven's Bread: Food for Those in Solitude." Replies flowed in from such diverse places as New Zealand, French Canada, the Philippines, Bavaria, Ireland, Mexico, and forty of the fifty United States. This twenty-three percent response rate is con-sidered a phenomenal return on a survey and, of itself, says something significant about eremites. Interviewing a single hermit is a rare event; taking the pulse of large enough numbers to determine trends would be an impossible task if eremites themselves were the aloof, people-hating individuals portrayed in popular literature. This survey reveals, however, that Karen Karper Fredette writes from 18065 Highway 209; Hot Springs, North Carolina 28743. 129 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust a lifestyle seasoned by hours of solitary prayer produces human beings distinguished by hospitality of spirit and a rare compassion. The essential hiddenness of eremiticat life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings. Recent History of Eremitism Even before Vatican Council II, a movement toward solitude and eremitical living had been noted. An historical but almost forgotten intervention at the council by Bishop Remy de Roo initiated a process that resulted in a new canon (c. 603) being written into the revised'Code of Canon Law that appeared in 1983. Bishop de Roo expressed his con-viction that the renewed vitality of the eremitical calling "indicates a special influence of the Holy Spirit, who inspires initiatives beneficial to the church and the modern world." Additionally, de Roo made the prophetic point that recognition of hermits would correct the impression that the practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience is limited to those living communal religious life. The myriad forms of hermit life reported in the recent survey prove the validity of this forecast. When an ancient vocation is recovered, old modalities often prove inadequate and new styles are fashioned. But can one devise a single expression for a call that transcends definitions of religious groups and flourishes among a devout and' occa-sionally unchurched fringe of society? What demographics, if any, can be assigned to an amorphous and largely hidden sub-culture that owns no common affiliation--nor desires any? In an effort to assess the state of eremitical life in the 21st century, the recent questionnaire invited hermits to draw their own demo-graphics. The results have been illuminating and inspiring. ¯ For some of us, a hermit may be living in the next apartment or down the street. Contrary to the caricature of hermits in their far caves, only three out of 140 reporting solitaries live in the "wilderness." A large number (31 percent) dwell in rural areas, but even more (43 percent) are to be' found in urban or Review for Religious suburban settings. Eight of those responding to the survey have chosen a site in the inner city. The essential hiddenness of eremitical life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings in such a way as,~to pass unnoticed even by one's neighbors. Many hermits abhor being singled out and so avoid any identifying sign of their inner dedication to solitude. Others, however, accepting the value of witnessing to a transcendent Reality in our midst, choose a simple habit and seek a recognized status within the church. Their countercultural stance is not militant, but rather a silent encouragement to others that a dif-ferent life is possible from that preached by an all-pervasive consumer society. When and to Whom Does the Call Come? A woman living in the southeastern United States writes: "I first heard the 'call' when I was four years old. I did not know What it meant--I only knew that it shook me to my founda-tion. I married, bore two children, and became a single mother. In my studies for clinical psychology, I discovered the works of Carl Jung. My inner life began shouting for attention. I listened. I shut down my practice, moved, got the children on their feet, and became a solitary. That was twenty years ago." A woman in the Philippines says, "Friends thought I was a fool to give up a secure full-time teaching position in a univer-sity, which sadly didn't leave me space and energy to pursue contemplative living--the one thing that gave meaning to all the rest." A married hermit living in California says, "I was a Hindu monk for five years, but the community did not support my attraction to hermit life." Ninety-eight women and forty-two men responded to the Raven's Bread survey. One-third of these are in their fifties. One-fourth are in their sixties. Only six persons responding are in their thirties. Further data confirms that most received the eremitic call later in life rather than earlier. Twenty-seven percent of those responding said they entered an eremitic lifestyle in their fifties, and twenty percent in their forties. Only eighteen percent followed the call to solitude while in their twenties or thirties. Maturity and life experience are necessary before a person 131 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust can launch into the rigors of solitary living, though the desire may have been planted much earlier in life. This fact of mid-life transition is an echo of the ideal life-pattern espoused by many Eastern cultures. A person joins a monastery or becomes a monk, not at the beginning of life (except for a brief training period), but only after one has fulfilled family obligations and achieved a certain financial success that one then freely leaves behind. The initial results from the survey indicate that in the Western world the call to solitude replicates this wise rhythm. Good physical health and fitness are the norm among solitary dwellers. Forty-seven percent describe their health as "good," and thirty-eight percent claim "excellent" health. Mental and emotional stability radiate from the responses to the reflec-tion questions that accompanied the survey. For example, a Catholic priest in his fifties writes from an urban hermitage in California: "The grace and essence of solitary living is the abil-ity to live in and be continually conscious of the Presence of God, to become more aware of who one is, to become enlight-ened to see more and more with the vision of God, to struggle to live the compassion of God, to grow in serenity and peace-- in a word, to live the freedom of the children of God." Religious Affiliation and Status The largest number of respondents (92 of 140) are Roman Catholic, but the Anglican, Episcopal, Lutheran, and Baptist churches are also represented. Among the respondents we also find persons from the Society of Friends and Orthodox churches and from various Eastern mystical traditions as well. Of the Christian denominations, Catholicism has the most hermit-friendly atmosphere, but even here eremites frequently mention lack of support and outright discouragement of their aspirations. Of the ninety-two Catholic respondents, only seventeen had been recognized as hermits under canon 603; an additional six had professed a state of consecrated virginity under canon 604. The obstacle to canonical recognition most frequently cited by respondents was the indifference of bishops. Many local ordi-naries were suspicious and expressed unwillingness to allow per-sons to pursue church-sanctioned hermit life in their dioceses. Review for Religious In the United States, only three dioceses are reported in this sur-vey to have more than one hermit living according to canon 603. A woman living in an inner-city neighborhood in England says: "The one and only meeting I had with my present bishop (a Benedictine monk) lasted only a few minutes. I had pressured him into giving me an appointment and had waited eight months to see him. I asked if he would help me become publicly pro-fessed, and he said no. That was it, a monosyllable, no expla-nation, no hesitation, no interest, no concern. I had been living as a hermit for twelve years at that time." Sheila Richardson, who is working on her master's degree in canon law at the University of St. Paul in Ottawa, inquires pointedly: "Are bishops aware of canon 605? This canon requires diocesan bishops to strive to discern new gifts of consecrated life, assist promoters of such lifestyles, and protect these new forms by appropriate statutes." Eremitical life is flourishing without much active support from the establishment. This may well be a blessing, allowing persons seeking to live as hermits or solitaries freedom to devise the form of life that best expresses their aspirations without concern about standards only a select few can meet. Exploring the various categories of individuals who choose a predominantly solitary life, we find 67 single lay persons, 24 married people, 38 members of religious congregations, and 15 ordained ministers, male and female, from six different denominations. Catholic priests who are living as hermits often exercise a limited ministry among people living nearby. They have the permission of their local ordinaries to live in retirement from most of the demands of pastoral ministry and devote the larger portion of their time to the "works" of eremitical life in solitude. Others have established a rhythm of part-time ministry with a certain number of days each week spent in solitude. Another priest is searching: "I am now at the point of decision. I am looking for a hermit-loving bishop where I might support myself by celebrating weekend Masses and confessions, perhaps in some priestless parish. Beyond that, I would be free to live in my own cabin following my own hermit schedule." Being a member of a religious community, whether active or contemplative, does not guarantee understanding of or support March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust for an eremitic calling--something which, incidentally, may arise after a person has faithfully pursued religious life for many years. Thirty-seven of the hermits responding to the survey are still members of religious congregations. But, of the laypersons now living as hermits, sixty percent were members of a religious con-gregation at an earlier stage in their journey. Half of the former religious women claim they left their community so they could follow their attraction to solitude. Many said they were deeply grieved by this "necessity" of departure. Only two of the male religious say that their reason for severing connections with their religious order was in order to pursue solitary life. In other words, twenty-five percent of the men who left religious life did so because they were unable to live solitary life within their com-munities; fifty percent of the women left for the same reason. The most surprising category to surface from an analysis of survey responses is that of married hermit. Strictly speaking, this is a contradiction in terms and one that is hard to justify. But, for those who so identify themselves, the vocation is real and valid. Of the twenty-three respondents who are married, not all claimed to be hermits, but more than half did so. In an effort to understand this phenomenon, the following question was posed: "If you are married and are attracted to solitude, how do you work this out with your spouse?" In reply a woman in Arizona said: "The working out of mar-riage and solitude contains., every contradiction that one can experience in making oneself vulnerable in love to God and the unfolding of God's call in another. Two people can be authen-tically called to solitude and to solitude with each other, but the expressions of it can be so very different. The sharing of phys'ical space has been of great pragmatic concern for us recently--how to arrange our home so it can facilitate simplic-ity of life, prayer, and solitude." A man in Connecticut said: "I decided to separate my own liturgy commitments from my marriage by rising each morning at three for my prayer schedule. Also, I go to bed a little before my spouse to be alone once more in prayer." A woman married to a permanent deacon said: "He shares my attraction to silence and solitude although his ministry is pastoral and mine is mainly prayer. Our small country parish requires very little contact with the people for me. I work qui- Review for Relig4ous etly and prayerfully in the background while he ministers to the people. Everyone seems to understand and accept this arrangement." A woman frankly confesses: "It [attraction to solitude] cre-ated great problems. The marriage ended because we could not work it out. We remained friends." Daily Lifestyles, Daily Problems One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the sur-vey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. Forty-four of these have a written sched-ule incorporating prayer, work, reading, and relaxation. Eighty-seven of the 140 respondents live an informal mix of these elements. Some of these noted that they had begun with a written schedule that gradually became a more flexible routine. Seventy-eight of the 140 re-spondents pray with others one or more times a week. The most frequent prayer-form cited was meditation. Almost ninety percent find daily periods of meditative prayer a necessity. Nearly as many include Eucharistic Liturgy as part of their daily or weekly prayer routine. Most respondents find special periods of retreat important. Almost half arrange for an "annual r~treat; some manage monthly or even weekly periods of retreat. Penitential practices preferred are fasting and vigils. Almsgiving is important, with forty-three percent giving either in cash or in kind. Thirty-six eremites have made public profession of the evan-gelical counsels. Thirty-eight have committed themselves pri-vately, their vows or promises witnessed by a church-related person. Almost all respondents (103) value spiritual direction, though many said that finding a spiritual guide has been diffi-cult. Forty-seven hermits function as spiritual guides for others. One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the survey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. 135 March-April 2002 Fredette ¯ No Rapine in the Holocaust The survey listed six areas that could prove problematic for eremites: housing, income, spiritual guidance, relationships with church representatives, physical health, and personal fears and insecurities. The most frequently cited problem is difficulties with church representatives; the next, finding adequate spiri-tual guidance. The expected difficulties of locating a suitable site and generating enough income had proved less trouble-some. In this third millennium of Christianity, eremitical life is experiencing a fresh flowering, with new blooms appearing on the ancient vine. Butthe essence remains the same: "For me, the grace of solitary living is Emptiness," a married hermit member of an oblate Benedictine community states categorically. "No rapine in the holocaust" continues to be the stark demand of solitary life. Lake's Edge At night I hear the motion of the lake. It sighs to its own heart. Foam frosts the weight of wetness flung toward the house where my light burns. I am waiting for the wind to bring the message that I long for, the meaning of breath and motion, and who it is that sends waves pulsing toward this empty shore. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JAMES J. MAGEE Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions Ion an article in this journal (1994), I examined the devel-pment of metaphysical self in the writings of eight Christian mystics, concluding with Thomas Merton's definition (1966, p. 180) referring to "the depths of people's hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes." In short, metaphysical self is the term for one's self residing in God and God residing in it. Respondents to the article took the occa- ¯ sion to point out that metaphysical se/fappears also in the writ-ings of mystics from other religious traditions and recommended that I enlarge the presentation by incorporating some of them. Since these correspondents were women religious more famil-iar than I with these various mystical traditions, I asked them to participate in a monthly online chat room to examine meta-physical self as it appears in Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufi) mysticism. Our group of nine has met for the past five years, and this article presents some of the riches these mystical traditions brought to our understanding of meta-physical self. Each month we decided upon two primary sources we would examine in common, one Christian and one from another James J. Magee has written nine articles for our journal, the last in 1994. He is professor of counseling and gerontology at College of New Rochelle; New Rochelle, New York 10805. March-April 2002 tradition. In addition, each of us read the historical and con-textuai introductions preceding the texts or a monograph explaining their specific themes and imagery. At the conclusion of this article is a bibliography of the sources that we found particularly fruitful. Each tradition has its own style, some directly didactic and others more metaphorical. Each elabo-rates upon metaphysical self with novel, arresting paradoxes and engaging imagery that invigorated our familiarity with our own Christian mystics. Each, too, emphasizes the following components of metfiphysical self: the relational, nondualistic rootedness of self in God; transcendent individuality; engaged detachment as an expression of metaphysical self. Throughout this endeavor we dealt with paradoxes and found the most exhil-arating paradox in the power of other traditions to confirm our Christocentric perspective. Residing in God's Unconditional Acceptance This brief sampling of Christian mystics illustrates the con-tinuing emphasis they placed on the-self-residing-in-God: From Meister Eckhart: The soul is so completely one with God that the one cannot be understood without the other. One can think heat easily enough without fire and the shining with-out the sun, but God cannot be understood without the soul nor the soul without God, so utterly are they one. (p. 309) It is God's pleasure and rapture to discover iden-tity, because he can always put his whole nature into it--for he is this identity itself. (p. 167) From Julian of Norwich: Our soul sits in God in true rest, and our soul stands in God in sure strength, and our soul is naturally rooted in God in endless love. (p. 188) Between God and our soul there is neither wrath nor forgiveness. For our soul is so wholly united to God that nothing can interpose . Though we find in ourselves anger, contention, and strife, still we are all mercifully enclosed in God's mildness and meekness. (p. 189) Review for Religious From Catherine of Genoa: My being is God;. my me is God. (W'ilber, p. 72) From Thomas Merton: We know God insofar as we become aware of ourselves as known through and through by him. We "possess" him in proportion as we realize ourselves to be pos-sessed by him in the utmost depths of our being . Our knowledge of God is paradoxically a knowledge not of him as the object of our scrutiny, but of our-selves as utterly dependent on his saving and merciful knowledge of us. (1969, pp. 103-104) Note how this same emphasis appears in the following excerpts from Jewish and Muslim mystics: From the Maggid of Mezhirech: Man's essence is only the soul that is within him, which is a portion of God above. Thus, there is nothing in the entire world except the Holy One. (Uffenheimer) From the Kabbalah: There is nothing that is not pervaded by the power of divinity. God is everything that exists, though every-thing that exists is not God .Nothing is devoid of its divinity. (Matt, 1995) From Rumi: Remember God so much that you are forg9tten, until you are lost in the Call, without distinction of caller and called. (Breton and Largent, p. 23). You are my face. No wonder I can't see you. (Breton and Largent, p. 168) From 'Abd Allah Ansari (Kwaja 'Abdullah Ansari): One went to the door of the Beloved and knocked. A voice asked, "Who is there?" He answered, "It is I." The voice said, "There is no room for Me and Thee." The door was shut. Mter a year of sOlitude and depri-vation, he returned and knocked. A voice from within asked, "Who is there?" The man said, "It is Thee." The door was opened for him. (p. 94) O God, I possess that mirror in which you are reflected. Rather, I am that mirror. You are not sepa-rate from me. (p. 196) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: 139 MarchoApril 2002 The EternalOcean spews forth new waves. "Waves" we call them, but there is only. the Sea. (p. 77) From Ibn Al'Arabi: As in the case of a mirror and the beholder, he sees the form in it, but does not see the mirror itself. In your seeing your true self, He is your mirror and you are His mirror in which He sees nothing other than Himself. (p. 65) Through the intimate imagery and ecstatic directness that pervade these writings, the mystics of three monotheistic traditions seem to strain the point that, while human beings par-ticipate in the divine nature, they never become the essence of God. Their mystical reach, on the other hand, does touch upon that mystery which "no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him" (1 Co 2:9). The mystics intuit that persons are not dualistically separated from God, but "closely united with God in a love that is always moving toward oneness" (Johnston, p. 124). Transcending Individuality The Christian Scriptures address a second characteristic, the quality of relationships that proceed from metaphysical self. This characteristic also reappears in the mystical literature of other traditions, and our group members were able to find these paraphrases about metaphysical self-transcending indi-viduality: "Love is not self-seeking; it is not prone to anger; neither does it brood over injuries" (1 Co 13:5) becomes, in Rumi, the Sufi mystic, "Love has no calculating in itT' (Breton and Largent, p. 9) "Thanks be to God, who unfailingly leads us on in Christ's triumphal train, and employs us to diffuse the fragrance of his knowledge everywhere" (2 Co 2:14) occurs in Rtimi as "Vv~hether they know You or not, all creatures bend but toward You. M1 love for some-one else is but a whiff of Your perfume." (Breton and Largent, p. 141) "For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink" (Mt 25, 35) appears; Review for Religious in the Bhagavad Gita, as "Any offering--a leaf, a flower, or a fruit, a cup of water--I will accept it if given with a loving heart." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 118) "Let us profess the truth in love" (Eph 4:15) is, in the Bhagavad Gita, "Speak the truth with kindness, honesty that causes no pain." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 178) These mystical sources echo the scriptural message that in human beings metaphysical self is inherently relational. Each of us is a seat of consciousness and an experiencing agent with-out being independent of others. Aitken and Steindl-Rast go so far as to say: "Underlying 'Love thy neighbor as thyself' has to be the experience that the other is no other than myself" (p. 113). Engaged Detachment During our years of meetings, members recognized a third characteristic, engaged detachment, as the way metaphysical self conducts itself in the world. This oxymoron refers to the readiness to invest ourselves in causes, tasks, and relationships while remaining ready to foi'go achieving our goals. It focuses upon process, both the deservingness of the activity at hand and the affirmation that we shall die unfinished, our potential only partly realized, and that completion is ultimately God's work and not our own. The different traditions of mystical writings repeatedly express this theme: From Julian of Norwich: God does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously; for our falling does not hin-der him in loving us. (p. 188) From Paul Tillich: You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you . Do not seek for anything; do not intend anything. (Church, p. 180) From Anthony de Mello: There is no clinging to a classical symphony and no hastening it. One does not wait till the end to enjoy . it, but takes in every note, every chord as it comes and lets it go to welcome the next uninterrupted flow. Any attempt to stop the performance, any "attachment" to 14! March-April 2002 Nlagee ¯ Metaphysical Self a single note, will ruin the symphony. (p. 164) From the Tao Te Ching: A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving. (Mitchell, 1988, p. 27) The Tao gives birth to all beings, creating without possessing, acting without expecting, guiding without interfering. (Welch, p. 41) From the Bhagavad Gita: With no desire for success, no anxiety about failure, indifferent to results, surrendering all thoughts of out-come, unperturbed, he does nothing at all, even when fully engaged in actions. There is nothing that he expects. (Mitchell, 2000, p. 75) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: Give up desire. Think that whatever you get is what you want, and in this acceptance find ease and joy. Renounce desire a hundred times. (p. 114) Engaged detachment, like the other characteristics of meta-physical self, is paradoxical. It invites a response of passive atten-tiveness wisely expressed in this admonition from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke: Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart. . Try to love the contradictions themselves. Do not now seek resolutions, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them, and the point is to live everything. Live the contradictions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the resolutions. (p. 97) Imagery, Paradox, Complementarity, Love The imagery, metaphors, and paradoxes which other mys-tical traditions use to illuminate the nature of mystical se/famplify and complement the attention Christian mystics center upon on this theme. The artfulness of these other sources can help sustain us both in the apophatic ~loud through which Christian mystics typically view mystical self and in the relaxed tena-ciousness of our commitment to love others as ourselves. Review for Religious References 'Abd Allah Ansari, 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Aitken, R., and D. Steindl-Rast. 1996. The ground we share. Boston: Shambala. Breton, D., and C. Largent. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystical path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Church, E 1987. The essential Tillich. New York: Macmillan. de Mello, A. 1992. One minute nonsense. Chicago: Loyola University Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Johnston, W. 2000. "Arise, my love . . .": Mysticism for a new era. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books. Julian of Norwich. 1978. Showings. New York: Paulist Press. Magee, J. 1994. "Shame, mystical writers, and a spirituality of self." Review for Religious 53, no. 5 (September-October): 746-752. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, p. 25. Meister Eckhart. 1986. Meister Eckhart: Teacher and preacher, ed. B. McGinn. New York: Paulist Press. Merton, T. 1966. Conjectures of a guilty bystander. New York: Doubleday. Merton, T. 1969. Contemplative prayer. New York: Herder and Herder. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York: Harmony Books. Rilke, R. 1978. When silence reigns: Selected prose. New York: New Directions. Uffenheimer, R. 1993. Hasidism as mysticism. Princeton: Princeton University Press, p. 74. Welch, H. 1966. Taoism: The parting of the way. Boston: Beacon. Wilber, K. 1983. Up from Eden. Boulder, Colo.: Shambala. Bibliography of Easily Accessible Sources Sources in Christian mysticism appear in the series Classics of Western Spirituality (Paulist Press). Sources for Buddhist and Taoist mysticism Da Liu. 1986. Tai chi ch'uan and meditation. New York: Schocken Books. Deng Ming-Dao. 1990. Scholar warrior: An introduction to the tao in everyday life. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. 143 March-April 2002 Magee ¯ Metaphysical Self Kohn, L. 1993. The taoist experience: An anthology. Albany: State University of New York Press. Merton, T. 1968. Zen and the birds of appetite. New York: New Directions. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Reps, P. 1957. Zen flesh, Zen bones: A collection of Zen and pre-Zen writ-ings. Rutland, Vermont: C.E. Turtle. Thich Nhat Hanh. 1987. The miracle of mindfulness: A manual on med-itation. Boston: Beacon. Watson, B. 1968. The complete works of Chuang Tzu. New York: Columbia University Press. Wei, H. 1987. The authentic I Ching. North Hollywood, Calif.: Newcastle. Sources for Hindu mysticism Dehejia, V. 1994. The legend of Rama: Artistic visions. Bombay: Marg Publications. Heehs, P. 1998. The essential writings of Sri Aurobindo. New York: Oxford University Press. Jack, H. 1989. The Gandhi Reader. New York: Grove Press. Krishnamurti, J. 1994. On conflict. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York. Harmony Books. Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. 1972. Women saints of East and West. London: Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. Shukla, S. 1999. The Upanishads. Fremont, Calif.: Asian Humanities Press. Sivaraman, K. 1989. Hindu spirituality. New York: Crossroad. Vetter, H. 1997. The heart of God: Prayers of Rabindranath Tagore. Boston: C.E. Tuttle. Sources for Islamic mysticism 'Abd Allah Ansari. 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Breton, D., and C. Largent, C. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystic path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Chittick, W.C. 1983. The Sufi path of love: The spiritual teachings of Rumi. Albany: State University of New York Press. Ernst, C. 1984. Words of ecstasy in Sufism. Albany: State University of New York Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Review for Religious Ibn A1-Sabbagh. 1996. Mystical teachings of Al-Shadhili. Chicago: Kazi Publications. Ibn 'Ata' Illah. 1978, The book of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Massignon, L. 1982. The passion of A1-Hallaj, mystic and martyr of Islam. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Schimmel, A. 1987. As through a veik Mystical poetry in Islam. New York: Columbia University Press. Sharafuddin Maneni. 1980. The hundred letters. New York: Paulist Press. Sources for Jewish mysticism Ben Joseph, A. 1987. Book of formation (Sepheryetzirah). San Francisco: Holmes. Ben Zion, R. 1984. Anthology of Jewish mysticism. Brooklyn, N.Y.: Judaica Press. Cohn-Sherbok, D. 1995. Jewish mysticism: An anthology. Rockport, Mass.: Oneworld. Jacobs, L. 1997. Schocken book of Jewish mystical testimonies. New York: Schocken Books. Kamenetz, R. 1998. Stalking Elijah: Adventures with today's Jewish mys-tical masters. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Kook, A. 1978. The lights of penitence, New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1983. Zohar: The book of enlightenment. New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah: The heart of Jewish mysticism. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Nahman of Bratslav. 1980. The tales. New York: Paulist Press. Scholem, G. 1995. Major trends in Jewish mysticism. New York: Schocken Books. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Searchable indexes of Review for Religious articles from January 1970 to the current issue Abstracts of the lead articles of the January 1997 isshe to the current issue and summaries of the others Complete text of A Spirituality for Contemporary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Mueller SJ, Walter Burghardt SJ, David Fleming SJ, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino SJ, Elizabeth Johnson csJ, and John W. Padberg SJ www.reviewforreligious.org -4 45 larch-, Jpril 2002 GERALDINE M. WODARCZYK Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush growing older For months now I have written multiple reflections on aging. They are connected with a book by Jane Marie Thibault2 She says that in later life people are invited to contemplation and that there should be contem-plative communities for the elderly. My congregation is 127 year old, and I have lived among aging and prayerful sisters for decades. I sought to formulate a theology of aging based on the spirituality of our foundress, Frances Siedliska. But, in spite of a wealth of material, no formulation presented itself. And so, with encouragement from Sister Judith Nero OSB, my local mentor for the gerontological program, I decided on a different focus, simply writing about my ministry experiences at Holy Family Manor. What are those experiences, and what are they calling me to in my own life? Perhaps, like Moses, I have discovered a "burning bush" and here, on holy ground, I learn of God. Geraldine M, Wodarczyk CSFN wrote this paper originally in a gerontological pastoral care program at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. Her address is Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth; 285 Bellevue Road; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15229. Review for Religious Years ago Sister Mary Paul Krasowski gave me a copy of a poem by an unknown author: The Moses in my heart trembles not quite willing to accept the prophet hidden in my being wondering how much it will cost to allow the prophet to emerge. O child of unnecessary shoes cast them off and stand in readiness on this awfully holy ground! For the Egypt in people's hearts demands that you see the burning bushes all around you aflame and burning wildly calling you forth away from the comfort of well-protected feet. The ground you stand on is holy! Take off your shoes believe in your Moses and go. Sister Mary Paul gave.me a copy a second time, when I was the superior at the Manor, my "holy ground" for the past six years. I realized that during this time I had been called to accept the prophet in me, and in others, as we search for God in our every-day realities. I have seen the Egypt in the hearts of sisters and heard their cry for freedom sung in many ways. Within the evening solitude that these days provided me, I discovered the Egypt within my own heart and heard a call to let go of false securities of my own and to find new freedoms within me. I have been present to "burning bushes" of experience with seasoned older sisters. In ways I never expected, God touched my life and called me from the comfort zone where I was six years before. 147 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging With Fear and Trepidation In 1990, when first asked to consider being superior of the Manor, I flatly refused. I was already superior of a small convent of four sisters. I was engaged in full-time ministry as the province councilor for formation, and together with my brother, who was just beginning a family in Wisconsin, I was sharing long-distance care of our widowed father in Erie, Pennsylvania, who was steadily moving to a new stage of frailty in his life. These were the reasons I gave my provincial, but another rea-son was that I had never been present at anyone's death. Terrified, I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. Time passed. In 1993 our father's condition became worse. When notified, I knew the seriousness of Dad's condition, but did not realize that, with the physician, my brother and I would be making decisions that Dad was not able to make about his failing life. As Divine Providence would have it, I was in Erie when decisions about the breathing and cardiac machines needed to be made, and I was present during Dad's last hours and death. I learned that a broken heart is a real experience. I was changed, and so in 1994, when a new provincial asked me about being superior of Holy Family Manor, I said I would be willing. The provincial was taking seriously the choice of the superior. First, after asking the sisters living in the Manor for suggestions and reviewing the list, she and her council had three sisters come to a mandatory day of reflection in a small cottage on our motherhouse grounds. Our retirement home had sixty-nine beds and sixty-six sisters at various stages of aging. The retreat director, Sister Ann Winschel CDP, invited us to consider our gifts and what might be our stumbling blocks in accepting the ministry. I went to my room in the cottage and prayed with open hands, letting God put there what I needed and giving God the freedom to take away any drawbacks to my willingness to accept this ministry. For most people, praying with open hands is a simple gesture, but for me--with hands affected by rheumatoid arthritis--the gesture spoke of my own human brokenness. Could God really want me, already a broken vessel, to shep-herd these senior religious in their last days? At the end of the retreat, after sharing our personal reflec- tions, we were asked to express our final decision in a letter to the provincial. I wrote of openness to the ministry, my aware-ness of my gifts in working with the elderly, and my recognition that I could use them only in the context of my own brokenness. I qualified my openness by saying that, if I had an incapacitating flare-up of the arthritis, I would take it as an indication that this service was not appropriate for me. Three months later my provincial telephoned me, saying that the council had unani-mously chosen me the next Manor superior. She wanted me to take some preparation time with the current superior, attend the upcoming American Society of Aging conference, and offi-cially begin on the first of May. On Sunday, 30 April 1995, in the early afternoon, I arrived at the Manor. I was scheduled to be in the chapel for a wel-coming prayer and commitment service at four o'clock. The previous superior had already left. Three sisters were waiting for me at the door, welcoming me with one breath and asking with another, "You will take us to the festival at Mr.Assisi, won't you?" Barely gathering my belongings from the auto-mobile and putting them in my room, I welcomed the excur-sion (a five-minute trip) to the Franciscan sisters' festival. Though a busy place, it was a respite where I could amble with-out any focus on the fears and anticipation that were part of me at this transition moment. We returned home and soon four o'clock came. In the presence of the retired sisters, the provincial asked me several questions: Will you accept this responsibility [to be local leader] which the sisters have confided in you? Do you promise to serve the sisters in kindness, compassion, and charity, in the spirit of our blessed foundress, Frances Siedliska? Will you strive to be faithful to the Covenant of Love [our constitutions] and the directives of your general and provincial superiors? Responding affirmatively, I was given a bouquet of roses by the provincial and was told: "Your ministry as servant leader will be a mixed blessing. Both joy and sorrow, possibility and I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. !49 ~¥larch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging impossibility, success and failure will accompany you. These roses, themselves offering both beauty and pain, are given to you with our gratitude for accepting this mission." After the sisters voiced their support, I recited the following: As I approach this ministry of servant leadership, I pray: Hollow out in me, O God, a space in which I will find myself, find peace and a whole heart, a for-giving spirit and holiness, springs of laughter, and the will to reach boldly for abundant life for myself, this local community, and the whole human family. Grant me your peace, instill in me such awe of you as will make me wise, and such quiet courage as will enable me to make hope visible, forgiving delight-ful, loving contagious, faith liberating, and peace-mak-ing joyful. Shape my weakness into compassion and help me to make myself open and present to my sisters, to oth-ers, and to your kingdom. Amen.2 And so I began my sojourn as the convent superior of our retire-ment community. Except for my Franciscan festival invitation, my first encounter with one of the sisters came that evening, when Sister Maura3 told me, "On behalf of the entire community here at Holy Family Manor, .I want to tell you it is too cold in this build-ing." "Temperatures!" I thought; "after that profoundly religious service, I am supposed to adjust thermostats!" And so it was-- God was inviting me to listen to the concerns of everyday life, the little things that are so important in these sisters' lives. The Power of the Word The next morning I had an announcement to make in the first-floor dining room, where forty sisters sat. Besides some trembling, my voice did not carry well, especially for the good number with impaired hearing. Finally I got the message across. Shortly thereafter, a sister from the second-floor dining area came complaining that I did not give the sisters there any message. What was I to do? The next day I typed out some items of common interest and posted them in the elevator, Review for Religious thereby causing traffic jams. Sisters would ride up and down until they finished reading the note. I realized that we needed copies of the newsletter posted in various places, including the elevator. This simple arrangement, providing this large num-ber of sisters direction for the coming day, also informed them about what was happening in our home. Was this communication episode a "burning bush" in which I found God? At least I learned how impoytant the communi-cated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring in this household. It calmed the fears of the sisters who wondered about who was in the house: other sisters, guests, contractors, maintenance work-ers. The daily newsletter included a prayer request list and kept the sisters informed about the health progress of the sisters in the hos-pital. The newsletter invited the sisters to share a joke as well as to request prayer for themselves I learned how important the communicated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring. or others. It became their newsletter. It provided a source of unity and dismantled some rumors that institutions readily give rise to. It hung for twenty-four hours at eight places in the building. Each of us had plenty of time to return to it to get the news of the day. There is a power in the written word. It is a way love can be communicated. Isn't the Word the way God communicates the greatness of Divine Love? And did the Word not become incarnate in the most simple and humble way? Perhaps in some small way the newsletter really was a "burning bush." The Joy of the Resurrection After living a short while in the Manor, I noticed a heavi-ness- sadness in the sisters' demeanor, depressive postures; even the daily Masses were in remembrance of the deceased. Although all the bedrooms are quite alike, some were considered "dying rooms," and sisters shuddered at the thought of being placed there. March-April 2002 V~odarczyk * Aging When I arrived at the Manor in the midst of spring, I was still flesh with the message of the Easter season's life-giving liturgical readings. One reading kept coming back to me, the one about the women returning to the tomb who were asked, "Why do 3iou search for the Living One among the dead?" (Lk 24:5). One day these words, stirring in my h.eart, became reversed. I heard, "Why do you search for the dead among the living?" Something changed within me, and I realized how alive, even with some physical limitations, these sisters were. I knew that I needed to foster that life of theirs. I knew that I should help them help each other to build a happy life within this retirement community. By Pentecost I looked for the evi-dence of the Spirit as we tried new things and reviewed old practices. What brought the gifts of "love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, faith, mildness" (Ga 5:22-23) that Paul spoke about? The things that brought such results to the majority of the community would be fostering and increas-ing in the sisters the new life of Easter. How else does God speak to us and affirm our actions except by the gifts of the Holy Spirit? In late May 91-year-old Sister Ellen was rushed to the hos-. pital in excruciating abdominal pain. "A perforated bowel," the doctor told me and asked, "What do you want me to do? I don't think that Sister could survive the surgery." Asking Sister, who was fully conscious, was to me the obvious thing to do. The doctor explained the options: surgery or palliative care. Sister Ellen looked at me with the most trusting eyes. "You are my superior," she said. "Whatever you decide will be God's will for me." I could not believe my ears, nor was I prepared for this responsibility she placed on me. She remained adamant. "I trust that your decision is God's will for me." I had not been reared in religious life with that degree of surrender put into a supe-rior's hands. Mine was a formation toward dialogue, toward coming to a mutual decision. She, however, simply continued to insist. From her primary-care physician, I learned that Sister Ellen had specifically said a few weeks earlier that she never wanted another surgery. When I managed to contact our provin-cial superior, who was traveling in Europe, she concurred with the decision for palliative care. Review for Religious I remain humbled by the trust Sister Ellen placed in me. I learned that being an instrument of God in these sisters' lives is something very serious indeed. I learned of my own need for prayer and intimacy with a God who, though transcendent, is immanently present to us and our decisions. Second Floor: 0 God, Are You There? A visitor to our Manor told me happily that her little boy would be three years old in a couple of weeks. On hearing that, he began to cry, "I don't want to be three, Mommy." Holding her tearful child, she said to me: "When he turns three he has to go to the next room in the day care. He doesn't want to take that step." It can be like that with the elderly, too. In conversations with oth-ers who deal with the elderly, I have found that there is always some place where res-idents do not want to go. It may be called the A wing or Mary's Corridor or something sim-ilar. In our convent it is simply called "the second floor." It is where those needing the most care live. Agreeing to live on the second floor is, for some of us, accepting death--even though, in reality, it may be years away. When I came to the Manor, the frailest sisters on the sec-ond floor would sit or recline in geri-chairs in a semicircle in what was called the solarium. These sisters were clean and well kept, but some would randomly yell out a prayer, a request, a humorous remark, or something incoherent. When people passed by Sister Lynnette--her parochial school teaching over and end-stage Alzheimer's drawing near--she would insist, "Line up for the fire drill, without talking!" If you did not do so, your misbehavior called for discipline. Although humorous, these moments were also sad, for Sister Lynnette had been such an excellent teacher. Many sisters shied away from the second floor, and espe-cially the solarium, where these frail sisters spent long days, I have found that there is always some place where residents do not want to go. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Agigg still as icons. This comparison struck me as I read some words of Henri Nouwen: Icons are not easy to "see." They do not immediately speak [appeal] to our senses . They do not reveal themselves to us at first sight. It is only gradually, after a patient, prayerful presence, that they start speaking to us. And, as they speak, they speak more to our inner than to our outer sense. They speak to the heart that searches for God.4 The frailest sisters on the second floor "do not reveal them-selves," or the Holy, immediately. It is only after I become prayerfully present to them that their presence, in their dimin-ished physical or mental condition, speaks to my heart. They tell me about life's brevity, about our dependence on God, and show that we are only pilgrims here. One day I took a visiting priest acquaintance to see our treasured sisters on the second floor. He began preaching to them about their duty to contemplate. With blank faces they just looked at him. A confused embarrassment seized him, and he became speechless. There was nothing more to say. Later I wondered if these sisters are in the contemplative state of being in God's wordless embrace. One cannot know such secrets. These sisters, and we ourselves, spend lives desiring such close-ness. But, because they and we have also spent years seeking responsible and prudent control of our lives, such vulnerability, such complete dependence on God and on others, is likely to be fraught with fear as well. On a recent visit to Pittsburgh, Trappist monk Thomas Keating, founder of Contemplative Outreach, spoke to an ecu-menical group gathered at another Franciscan motherhouse. He spoke of the prayerful consent that is part of Centering Prayer, for fostering contemplative experience. He spoke of the call to follow Christ and to let go of possessions--not external possessions so much as interior ones, the baggage of attitudes that we carry with us (in his phrase, the false self). At one point he looked up at the' choir loft, where the frailest of the com-munity's sisters were. He spoke directly to them, taking note of their willing acceptance of their present frailty, their loss of health, their losses of young self-reliance and of status in the community. He saw their disabilities as precious gifts from God, Review for Religious things to be grateful for. His words reminded me of my own sisters on the second floor. But to accept diminishment with gratitude is not easy. Solidarity with Suffering A few footsteps away from my office, my belief in the cru-cified and resurrected Christ was tested. Suffering is a mystery. We do not want to see others suffer, nor do we want suffering in our own lives. When faced with the suffering of people we love, what is our response? Henri Nouwen says: A friend who was very ill had a great devotion to Mary, the mother of Jesus, and derided to make a pilgrimage to Lourdes to ask for healing. When she left, I was afraid that she would be disillusioned if no miracle happened. But on her return she said, "Never did I see so many sick people. When I came face-to-face with that human suffering, I no longer wanted a miracle. I no longer wanted to be the exception. I experienced a deep desire to be one of them, to belong to these wounded people. Instead of praying for a cure, I prayed that I would have the grace to bear my illness in solidarity with them. And I trust that the mother of Jesus will bring my prayer to her Son."s As for myself, I have never come to the point of wanting "to be one of them." I desire to be well. But so did this dear woman on her way to Lourdes for healing. Is true healing the ability to love so deeply that we long to share others' intense pain and sorrow? That is what Jesus did. When we are young, we find many ways to escape that question and that reality. As we age and see diminishment in ourselves, our families, and our friends, the question returns. That call to solidarity in suffering is a difficult call to hear, especially when the time actually comes for us to visit--or move to--the "second floor." Sacrament of the Present Moment - Even in Dementia "Where am I going?" she asks, her body slumped. The eyes, once sparkling with joie de vivre, now are dim, like smoldering wicks. "I can understand," she says, "why, without faith, one155 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging could commit suicide. Not that I want to," she says, "but I understand. I know why others would do this." Coming out of my own uncomfortable search for something to say, I ask, "Do you have faith? . Why, yes, I do." But soon she is asking, "What should I do? What is happening to me?" These words rose in her during the initial stages of Alzheimer's. It is easy to agree with the maxim that "a mind is a terrible thing to waste." In a group where many have been educators, the relentless decline of mental acumen is truly frightening. In this place, you can imagine the ardor one brings to reading the "Nuns' Study" !6 In the light (or darkness) of this feared disease, a faith per-spective does not come easy, even in a congregation whose motto is "Thy will be done." I needed to be reverently present to any-one who was concerned about Alzheimer's, just as I did to those showing symptoms of it. I needed to be cautious about explain-ing away dementia-with pious sayings or even a quick quota-tion from Scripture. For many months Sister Mary would stalk me, particularly at sundown. Even when I did not initially see her, I could sense her presence and her foreboding look. I had learned earlier that I should keep touch with my own inner experience when relat-ing to others. With Mary, the more I avoided her physically and psychologically, the more she pursued and pressured me. Her cognitive impairment was becoming worse. I would think, "Oh, here she is, pestering me again!" or "She's got dementia. She doesn't know what she's talking about." One time she was particularly adamant: "How awful to be on the second floo!! How cruel you were to put me there!" And on and on, in a sort of frenzy. I wondered, "What ever happened to that loving and supportive friend I had for so many years?" I thought of relat-ing to her as a simple matter of"how to handle a difficult situ-ation." I thought of Christ being in her, but was far from experiencing it. Worn down by her raving, I was wondering if she had received her medication. I called the nurse to ask. Sister Mary heard me and said, "You think medication is going to take care of this? You are not around and you think medicine is going to cure this? That's not the way! That's not the way!" My "quick and appropriate solution"--so that I could be about more Review for Religious "important" things--stirred up more mistrust in Sister and greater frustration in me. Then my faith invited me to adopt a new perspective. I paused, put aside other matters, sat face-to-face with her, and listened. Soon both of us were at peace. After a while she returned to her room for the evening. This scenario occurred more than once. Afterwards, pondering the healing that took place when I was more present to her, I realized that there is a sacramentality in such moments. Jean-Pierre de Caussade says: There is never a moment when God does not come forward in the guise of some suffering or some duty, and all that takes place within us, around us, and through us both includes and hides his activity. Yet, because it is invisible, we are taken by surprise and do not recognize his operation until it has passed by us. If we could lift the veil and if we watched with vigilant attention, God would endlessly reveal himself to us, and we should see and rejoice in his active presence in all that befalls us. At every event we should exclaim: "It is the Lord!''7 Can I be alert to this potential revelation of God the next time I am stalked by one of my own sisters? When people complain to me about the odd behavior or mental confusion of a dear friend of theirs, can I help them see Christ's presence in the situation? How do I do that? Caussade reminds us of the power of faith: It is faith which interprets God for us. Without its light we should not even know that God is speaking, but would hear only the confused, meaningless bab-ble of creatures. As Moses saw the flame of fire in the bush and heard the voice of God coming from it, so faith will enable us to understand his hidden signs, so that amidst all the apparent clutter and disorder we shall see all the loveliness and perfection of divine wisdom.8 Seeking Life's Deeper Meaning A few years ago Sister Mary Stella came to my office quite excited about the prospect of winning a car or money for the 157 Vlarch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging community. A piece of mail had informed her that she had been "selected to win." I tried to explain to her about the money-maEing ploy of these contests. She insisted: "Fill it out for me. I can't see!" Hoping that somewhere in this experience there would be a teachable moment, I filled out the form and mailed it. A few weeks later she received a "free" watch. "See," she told me, "I am already winning! I will really help the congre-gation when the check arrives." Not long after the watch came, Sister was billed $75 for a magazine subscription. She called me to her room. Obviously upset, she said she did not have the money for this subscription and believed that, if she canceled it, she would be responsible for the salesperson's losing her job. "I should have listened to you," she lamented. My teachable moment had arrived! Though I was angry about companies that exploit senior citizens, I gently explained to her that this is an advertising gimmick, that all she needed to do was write "cancel" on the bill and mail it back; the matter would be over. She listened. I left the room thinking all was well. But within a few days Sister stopped eating. She did not come to morning Mass. She stayed in her room, depressed and despondent. Noticing this, I spent some extended time with her, but she was silent. She wanted to see a priest. I called the Franciscan priest who often served us, and he paid her a pastoral visit. Her depression lingered. I visited her again. She still lamented, "I can't pay the bill, and the poor man will lose his job." Her suffering was evident. Her sheltered and "precomputer" life did not prepare her to understand today's big-business advertising. So I listened, and then I suggested that we write the man a letter with an apology, explain her cur-rent financial situation, and return the watch. Her eyes lit up at the prospect. Together we composed a letter, which she signed and I mailed. In a few days she was back to normal. A few months later her health declined, simply by reason of her advancing age. When I visited, she looked up at me from her bed and with a most peacef~l look said, "I will never forget your gentleness to me when I thought I would win that money. You were so kind." The entire episode showed us God's grace working in both our lives. I continued to see how greatly these older sisters desire to contribute to the congregation. Review for Religqous Supporting the congregation financially gave meaning to the sisters all their lives, even as they themselves led a frugal existence. They had experienced the Depression firsthand and had stories to tell about begging alongside factories, begging h0use-to-house for summer stipends, or asking for funds by writing letters to family and friends. Today, for some, lotteries and various contests appear to be another source of financial support for the congregation. One sister, clear-minded at ninety-nine, had a lucky streak. Although she lived frugally, I heard rumors of her "having money." Family and friends would buy her lottery tickets and then cash them in for her when she mailed back the winning ticket. Although I was "out of the loop" of direct information about these transactions, I somehow always found out about them. Though some might find gambling question-able in light of the vow of poverty, I waited to see what would happen eventually, since Sister's participation connected her to others and caused no harm. Sometimes months would pass between rumors of her winnings and her eventual cash donation of $200 or $300. The happiness she radiated sent the message that even at ninety-nine she could contribute to the community. She rarely wanted anything for herself. Suspicions about a breach of her vow disappeared. I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty, expecting my gratitude as they do so. I appreciate what they do, but I have encouraged them to find meaning in other parts of their lives too. Their very presence in love, patience, and faith is a meaningful gift to the community, to their families, and to all who witness their kindness. I have invited them to look for ways of spreading the Good News in and beyond the community. I have tried to be attentive to the I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging ordinary things they accomplish or experience, and I have lis-tened affirmingly as they speak about what they did and are doing with their lives. I have learned, too, about meaning that is not initially obvious. Sister Gina was a "collector." Her room was filled with any-thing and everything. Some might call it clutter. One day she said to me, "You know, when I die, people will complain about all the stuff I left behind. Some have already asked me to clean things up. But I want you to know something. Now that I can go nowhere, I have brought into my room all kinds of things that bring to mind the wonderful friends I have had in my life. These things always make me happy, and I pray for these peo-ple as well." When Sister Gina died, I took care of her things quietly, without others knowing, needing to respect the gen-uineness of her words to me. Most of this "junk" humbly con-veyed love and friendship and gave meaning to Sister Gina's last days. An Incarnational Spirituality When our sisters come to the Manor, transportation diffi-culties and their declining health limit their activity. Two things seem to arise in the absence of formal ministry. There is some-times an unhealthy focus on self and on the "world" of the Manor. Small matters become major concerns. Negativity can result. Teresa of Avila saw such problems in her cloistered monastery.9 There is perhaps no one remedy, but I have seen changes for the better when sisters choose other avenues of ser-vice or ministry or other activities compatible with their new status and their personal limitations. The healthiest and happiest in the Manor were those who were able to rechannel their formation-for-ministry in creative ways. Writing letters to friends, family members, and politi-cians and intercessory prayer for the needs of others are integral to the sisters' lives and are a genuine service they render. Decorating the chapel for feasts, participating as readers or Eucharistic ministers during the litu#gies, companioning another to the physician, sending get-well cards to the hospitalized, and visiting the "second floor" are but a few of the ways the sisters incarnate their love for God in service to their neighbor. Their Review for Religious humble acceptance of their limitations and their patient strug-gles day by day become invaluable tools in building up the body of Christ, as those who are touched by their witness can testi@. For the sisters, their personal sufferings take on deeper mean-ing as they offer them for the intentions of people who have requested their prayer and support. Perhaps some ecumenical healing takes place as well, as staff members of different faiths take care of these sisters, who have lived their lives with hearts so attuned to Roman Catholicism. The sisters remain educators, teaching young care-givers about faith, patience, forgiveness, hope, acceptance and nonacceptance of suffering and dying. The sisters, too, are stretched to go beyond the images of a vowed religious life that is past and gone. After fifty years or more of religious life, that is not a small stretch. Sports on television and radio, and movies, books, excur-sions, concerts, and so forth offer relaxation and outreach--for nothing can "separate us from the love of Christ" (Rm 8:35). Some sisters have become mentors or teachers in various spe-cialties. One Sister translated from Polish to English a valu-able book on the foundress of our community, Frances Siedliska. With phones now in every room, telephone ministry to family and friends became possible. Advocacy for human rights and other special interests is also a possible ministry for the sisters. If we live by the truth and in love, we can "grow in all ways into Christ" (Ep 4:15). All these ways of service build the king-dom of love among the family of God; they express the mis-sion of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth. "Tell Him to Wait!" Several months ago Sister Helen, our 95-year-old, was quite ill. She ceased to breathe during an MRI, and the hospital staff, acting on impulse rather than consulting her advance directive, resuscitated her. The doctor called me and told me Sister had been placed on a breathing machine. Twenty-four hours later the doctor removed the breathing machine, and, staunchly, Sister Helen survived the ordeal. I visited her in the hospital and reminded her gently, "Sister Helen, you are very ill. Perhaps 1K1 March-April 2002 Jesus will call you soon." "Let him wait," she bellowed; "I'm not dead yet!" I was taken aback, slow to see the humor. Later I reflected: "She has been a baptized Catholic for ninety-five years and a member of our religious community for eighty years. She has prayed each day of those years. She has a profound rela-tionship with God. After eighty years of relating, a certain free-dom of relationship must exist between lovers. How free Love can make us!" Sister Caritas died several years ago, and I especially remem-ber her dying. Racked with fever, in great distress, she held my finger tightly--so firmly that it reminded me of what my friend Maureen told me about a birth. Her sister's husband was on a business trip, and Maureen was in the delivery room with her sister. Her sister grasped her hand so tightly during the birth that Maureen needed several weeks of hand therapy afterward. While grasping my finger, Sister Caritas, too, was being born, born into eternal life. I have been with others who have died, not all struggling as did Sister Caritas. Some have gone to the Lord gently. Others have chosen to stop treatment and accepted the palliative care that became part of that choice. Some died after years, months, or a few days of being bedridden; others, while taking a nap. Each "birthing" has been different, each one very final, each one inviting me to deepen my belief in the life hereafter. Here at the Manor--or anywhere, of course--other kinds of dying occur earlier, before that actual moment. Every stage of Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's death-and-dying theory is lived out here: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.1° Are some stages more appropriate, more holy, than others? ls the sis-ter in denial less effective in dealing with dying than the one who is angry and displacing it at every available opportunity? And the one who bargains--"If I keep on living on the third floor, I'll never get like those on the second floor"--is she less holy than the one whose depression shows all over her face and in her every bodily move? And is she still less holy than the one who grieves her loss, accepts additional personal help, gently accepts the everyday deaths and dyings that are part of human experience? I think there can be no comparisons here. When one strug-gles in the face of d~ath, regardless of what type, the struggle is Review for Religious real. "It remains true," as Pope John Paul has observed, "that the years pass quickly, and the gift of life, for all the effort and pain it involves, is too beautiful and precious for us ever to grow tired of it." 1, And so we struggle and deny, are angered, bargain, and are depressed. In the end we do accept the reality that has been presented to us by Life. The challenge for me in the Manor community was to have faith in this precious journey and trust that the increasing pains are redemptive. I chose to permit people to be themselves: I challenge, but do not force. Rather, I wait in patience for God's grace to touch hearts and hurts and lead all of us into his sacred presence. My Beloved As we religious grow toward accepting death, the inevitable reality shared by all creation, I believe that a life of prayer sustains us. Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return . It is a Light within which illuminates the face of God. for the spiritual person is forever bringing all affairs down into the light, holding them there in the Presence, reseeing [sic] them and the whole of the world., in a new and overturning way.12 A life of prayer is different for each of us: some tending to more prescribed prayers, others to a more wordless prayer. What is common about prayer life is the deep relationship with God that is so special and so sacred to each one. Inscribed on each sis-ter's profession ring are the words "My Beloved is mine and I am His," from the Song of Songs (2:16). She not only wears that ring, she lives that reality. Recently I was asked to be the community witness when Sister Ann's casket was closed. Before burial we normally remove from the deceased our congregational cross and ring. On this occasion the undertaker could not remove the ring. I advised him to leave it and close the coffin. Reflecting on this moment afterwards, I considered it to be as symbolic as the ring itself. Sister Ann, orphaned as a child, surrendered herself to God March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging through her vows and eventually, as Alzheimer's disease kept taking its toll, was stripped of family, friends, and even cogni-tion. The one thing that remained was the reality: she was her Beloved's and her Beloved was hers. The sisters at the Manor foster that relationship with their Beloved in many ways, including personal and communal prayer. Communally we have had to vary our prayer style here. Because of impaired hearing and sight and various other physical limi-tations, we no longer say Office in common. But the sisters pray faithfully --in their rooms, in the chapel, at Mass, on the porch, while walking outdoors or in the corridors, and during our spe-cial Friday mornings in the chapel. When they are very ill, they may say they cannot pray, and some are troubled by this. Others say that they are simply united with Jesus in their suffering, which is "nothing compared with His." Still others are quiet, their faith wrapping them palpably like a shawl. At times faith grows in darkness. It is no small discomfort when one who has dedicated her ehtire life to God questions the existence of God. When suffering is too much, "God, O God, why did you abandon me?" becomes the prayer of the day, or week, or even longer. In community, even as we pray in various ways, we journey in prayer together. Just as the psalms pray through the gamut of human emotion, so our lives together become a living psalter. Anlen I cannot think of any richer ministry experience within my thirty-nine years as a member of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth than the time I spent in service to my sisters at Holy Family Manor. But my two three-year terms as convent superior here have come to an end. "Relieved?" my current provincial superior asked me before announcing my replacement. "Mixed feelings," I mumbled. But I know that this is right and good. My body and my spirit home in on a few words in my Moses poem: "Take offyour shoes, believe in your Moses, and go." Now they have a fuller meaning: ". go, relax awhile, and then, changed by this burning-bush experience of yours, go on and minister to whatever people I, your God, choose for you!" I respond: Amen. Review for Religious Notes l Jane Marie Thibault, A Deepening Love Affair: The Gift of God in Later in Life (Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1993). 2 The welcoming service was composed by Sister Therese Frankowski. 3 The names of most of the sisters in this article have been changed. 4 Henri J.M. Nouwen, Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). s Henri J.M. Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation on Dying and Caring (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1994). 6 David Snowden PhD, Aging with Grace: What the Nuns' Study Teaches Us about Leading Longer, Healthier, and More Meaningful Lives (New York: Bantam Press, 2001). 7 Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence, trans. John Beevers (New York: Image Books, 1975), p. 34. ~ Caussade, p. 37. 9 The Way of Perfection, chap. 4. ,0 Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, On Death and Dying (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1969). '~ John Paul II, Letter to the Elderly (1 October 1999), §1. ,z C.S. Lewis, as cited in A Step Beyond: Advanced Training in Pastoral Bereavement Counseling (Archdiocese of New York: The Ministry to the Bereaved, November 1994), p. 32. School Day, 1947 I am seven, on my way to school, crisp snow sparkles in the sun. As I walk along, I reflect that some day a man will offer me a diamond ring, but today God himself has hurled thousands at my feet. Mary Hanson ~larch-April 2002 HELEN JEAN NOVY Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly ~ehncoeuthneter rds uwriinthg tfhaem eilldye rvlyis iotfst eonr ifnovromlvael mdeianliisntgry w, iothur their habits of repetition. I have overheard "Dad, you say the exact same thing every time I come," and I have heard myself saying "Mom, you ask me that again and again." The proverb "Variety is the spice of life" inclines us to assume variety as a condition of anyone's continuing interest or at least as a lively attention getter. Repetition, however, is a necessary complement to variety. A systematic interplay of repetition and variation is a sine qua non for the arts. Consider the structure of sonatas or the form of songs. Aaron Copland's "Simple Gifts" in Appalachian Spring is an example of theme and variations, as is Max Reger's Variations on "America." In prayer, too, there is repetiton and variation. Christians regularly praying the Liturgy of the Hours, for example, are so accustomed to Morning Prayer's psalms for Week One that most know them by heart. Their predictability provides a rhythm that matches the regularity of breathing. But along with this comes the season's or feast's antiphon, giving a turn to the verses of the psalm and in a sense reinventing them. Helen Jean Novy HM is director of mission effectiveness at Magnificat High School; 20770 Hilliard Road; Rocky River, Ohio 44116. Review for Religious For Sunday of the First Week in Ordinary Time, this antiphon begins and ends Psalm 63: "As morning breaks I look to you, O God, to be my strength this day." The antiphon suffuses the psalmist's words that follow: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." For the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, a different anti-phon frames the same psalm w"I know the one whom I have trusted"--and gives it a different tinge: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." The synoptic Gospels, echoing each other in recounting the same events and sayings, do it with small yet significant differences. Compare the healing of Peter's mother-in-law in Mark 1 .'31 ("he came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her"), in Luke 4:39 ("he stood over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her"), and in Matthew 8:15 ("he touched her hand, and the fever left her, and she got up"). Might these considerations guide our responses to the repetitiousness of elderly people who have debilities of memory or concentration? Each encounter with another person, even though seemingly routine, is a new arid original encounter. Both parties are changed by the passing of time--by the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual experiences of the intervening time--even if only minutely. Health has improved or declined; the weather has turned warmer or cooler; clothes are brighter or more uniform; the staff has been updated or has had a turnover; the family has been reunited or suffered a loss; a sacrament has been received or a prayer prayed. "No need to recall the past. I am doing a new thing" (Is 43:18-19). Could Yahweh God be doing this new thing daily? God indeed adds yeast to the dough of the soul, lets it work, and gives it the kneading it requires: prayer and contemplation, opportunities for good works and self-sacrifice, active or passive Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. I67 March-April 2002 Novy ¯ Coping witb Repetition suffering, or simply love's perpetually re-creating thoughts and deeds and words. Does it take yeoman patience to hear the same questions, the same comments, the same concerns day in and day out, hour by hour, and even minute by minute? Of course, those who minister have to work on themselves, cultivating a reliable equanimity and ideally a blend of knowing tolerance and psychological and spiritual understanding: Thank heaven she can still respond., what a grace that we can still interact., how humbling that he takes his own debility in stride., bow merciful that she is unaware., what a gift.t that I can encounter the very Christ in the simplicity and vulnerability of this person. Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. Only by taking the tensions and strains of working with the sick-elderly to prayer again and again will ministers discover each person as an "imago Christi, a living analogue of the crucified Christ. As they do this, the ministers themselves will be molded into other Christs. They may find themselves praying the antiphons and psalms of the Liturgy of the Hours in the persona of Christ in the sick-elderly: "For you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." In the purview of faith, while the soul of the minister is being tuned to a new pitch, the souls of those they minister to become new songs. The Spirit sings through the adaptive constancy of the one and the dulling repetitions of the others, harmonizing both in the mystery of Divine Providence's unfathomable workings. G.K. Chesterton suggested that we should not take for granted the rising of the sun. Such a glorious phenomenon may well depend on the childlike delight of God calling for an encore: "Do it again, Sun!" Ultimately, deepening spirituality will not only expect the unexpected; it will expect the familiar, the recurring, the repetitious. It will perceive even the annoyance of repetition as a melodic refrain within the grand orchestration ¯ of God. Review for Religious JOAN WAGNER Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal At our last meeting, in June 1998, I attempted to show that the primitive documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph indicate that apostolic endeavors have deep mystical foundations. In the present paper I examine other aspects of these primitive documents, aspects that pertain especially to the communal life of small communities that undertake apostolic ministry. Because this article focuses on the spiritual and apostolic insights of Father Jean-Pierre Medaille SJ, it is intended especially for those who walk in his tradition, but also for all professed religious who seek the deepening of their community life and their apostolic action. I will focus on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings, but first I draw your attention to two Scripture passages that were of major importance for Medaille: Have this mind among yourselves, which was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself taking the form of a p rspecliv s Joan Wagner ssJ presented this paper in Milwaukee in June 2001 at the fifth triennial meeting of the Conference on the History of Women Religious. Her address is Little Design Community; 171 Schiller Street; Buffalo, New York 14206. March-April 2002 Wagner * Medaille's "Means" servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Ph 2:5-11) That they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. The glory which thou hast given me I have given to them that they may be one even as we are. one, I in them and thou in me, that they may become per-fectly one, so that the world may know that thou hast sent me and hast loved them even as thou hast loved me. (Jn 17:21-23) I think that adopting Father Medaille's "means" could help contemporary religious to practice the emptying spoken of in Philippians and thereby achieve the unions spoken of in John's Gospel. After discussing these "means," I will offer some concrete proposals for living them. The new community to which I belong, the community of the Little Design, is attempting to establish its communal life on "the means of Medaille." Clarifying the Scope of Medaille's "Means" The six "means" that I will be discussing cannot be found at any one location within the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. In fact, nowhere in Medaille's writings did he use the term "means" as I use it in this article. It is a concept that was first formed in the latter decades of the 20th century, that is, three hundred years after Medaille, by a commentator on the Primitive Documents, Sister Julie Harkins of the Boston Sisters of St. Joseph. I first encountered Sister Julie's work when I attended a charism retreat that she gave in Wichita, Kansas. In her presentation she referred to "six central means found in the lived experience of our first sisters to maintain unity among themselves and to be apostolic communities of love." Even as I Review for Religious taped her presentation at that conference, I felt that her ideas and concepts about Medaille's approach were truly a treasure. It seemed to me that Medaille had applied St. Ignatius Loyola's Rules for Discernment in a new way, using at the communal level the retreat pedagogy of reflection on experience. He adapted those rules to unlettered and diverse groups of women, to assist them in becoming apostolic communities of love. Other interpreters of the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph such as Sister Vacher and Sister de Vaublanc have analyzed the practices that Medaille proposed for the early sisters. Not all of these commentators would agree that the six "means" identified by Sister Julie Harkins capture the heart of Medaille's approach. Other phrasings and other lists of "means" have been proposed. It has also been suggested that Medaille's approach can be represented by one expansive "means," the sisters' sharing their hearts unreservedly. To shed additional light on whether I-Iarldns's six "means" adequately represent Medaille's approach, I suggest that we consider how difficult it would be to distill the central practices recommended by St. Paul. We know that Paul wrote extensively about the living of the Christian life. (His writings are far more extensive than Medaille's even if we consider all the Maxims and other Primitive Documents to be authentically his.) How then to express the central "means" of St. Paul? One commentator might comb through his writings and identify six "means" as central. Another might determine that there are actually four or eight or one. Obviously there is much room for disagreement. Keep in mind, then, that there are various ways of presenting the essence of Medaille's approach even as I now list Harkins's six "means." I advocate them as the basis of the community life of religious women, today--but always understanding their meaning within the Gospels' call to discipleship. Please note, too, that in Harldns's list there are two dimensions in Means 2 (and perhaps in Means 3 as well). And there is some overlapping among the various "means" since the boundaries among them are not tightly drawn. Finally, note that Means 6 is phrased in such a broad, all-encompassing way that it seems to subsume the preceding five "means." Here, then, is Sister Julie Harkins's list of Medaille's "means": 171 March-April 2002 _Wag~, er ¯ Medaille's "Means" 1. Sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity (Reglements, p. 9 par. 6). 2. Sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which ofie is called (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 16 par. 1; p. 21 par. 4, 5, 6; p. 39 par. 6; p. 51 par. 8). 3. Sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life; protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union (Primitive Constitutions, pp. 58-66; Protestations, pp. 67-68). 4. Sharing what is our city and dividing the city among ourselves to discover the evils and to work for their healing (Primitive Constiitutions, p. i1 par. 6; p. 29 par. 9; p. 30 par. 1-3; p. 31 par. 1-2). 5. Sharing with each other how through works of service they are building the kingdom of love among the dear neighbors and the members of the community (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 17 par. 2). 6. Fidelity to the core spirituality: being grouped in honor of the Father, Son, and Spirit; Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (Maxims of Perfection, pp. 21-22; Reglements, pp. 4-5; Primitive Constitutions, pp. 12 and 57). Putting Medaille's "Means" into Practice You can see that the first three "means" listed pertain to spiritual bonding within the community; they deal primarily with discernment of spirits as a way of life. The next two "means" pertain to discerning the apostolic and prophetic stance to which the community may be called; these "means" address discernment as a decision-making process. Finally, the sixth "means" stands above the others and informs all of them inasmuch as it focuses upon the mystical relationships that are at the heart of the calling that Medaille identified for the Sisters of St. Joseph. I am keenly excited about having our Little Design community underway. This small community employs Medaille's own term, and it represents the fulfillment of a dream for refoundation that I have had for forty years. (Be it known, however, that at least one other person has called this dream my Review for Religious obsession.) As I write, this house is only three months old and at present has only two members. We have good hopes of attracting other young women who are interested in a life that is based on these six "means" of becoming an apostolic community of love. Let us now consider Medaille's first "means": sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity. I will first try to explain why I feel that this is important, and then I will offer some recommendations about how to practice such sharing. The mystery of faith revealed to us in Scripture, particularly in Paul and John, is that all of history is now sacred history. This is the impact of the incarnation on our daily life (note--in Philippians 2:6-11, one of the passages cited above--the relevance of Paul's theology). All of our ordinary daily life is filled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. God desires for us an ever-growing love and participation in the life of Jesus. This goes on in each moment of our human experience, and it registers as a thought, a tendency, a mood, a feeling. (Father George Aschenbrenner SJ has emphasized this approach in his conferences.) It is one thing to believe this. It is another to be deeply aware of it. It is a third step to be keenly sensitive to it. Our response is toward a greater share in living out Jesus' mission (note here the relevance of the John 17 passage on unity). To share within a community (I envision one of three to five sisters) one's experience in prayer presupposes incarnational theology and could move the community from believing to the final stage of responding. Submission to the group mandate for the purpose of growth enables believing, awareness, and sensitivity to develop. And movements of grace obviously become more explicit when inner awareness moves to vocal articulation. Sharing one's prayer experience with candor and simplicity is a demanding endeavor. An emptying is required, but I believe it leads to a new depth of communal unity if it is done in faith, All of our ordinary daily life is f!lled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. --!73 Mt~.rcb-dpril 2002 Wagner ¯ Medaille's "Means" trust, and love. This depth is the mystery of God made more manifest in and among ourselves. We become more conscious of the call to respond and to be accountable. How would this be implemented? A possible scenario would be a biweekly gathering at which community members would relate movements of consolation and desolation during their prayer of the previous few days. Journaling after prayer periods would help members to be more responsibly prepared for the group gathering. Those who have had an Ignatian directed retreat will easily identify with this process. At present our small community enters into Morning Praise with a psalm, quiet time to reflect, and then the citing of a word, phrase, or line that was "given." The Gospel for the day is then read aloud. This is followed by a brief period of quiet and a brief time of communal sharing. All of this is done within half an hour and prepares us for deeper listening at liturgy. The content of our prayer in the future may vary, but the communal sharing is integral. Medaille's second "means" has three aspects: sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which one is called. "The state of the house" has two meanings: first, the practical details of the community's living quarters. For harmonious living, responsibility and accountability are expected from every member. Such matters as cleaning, shopping for food, preparing meals, paying bills, scheduling prayer, hospitality, and times for silence are basic elements in a well-ordered "house." Honesty prevailing, the community will be aware of members' overextension or ill health, of things needing repair, and so forth. With solutions to be found, the quality presence of each member is important. The ebb and flow of external harmony is guaranteed by this practical sharing. The other "house" is the inner one, the heart. Teresa of Avila in her Way of Perfection notes that in praying it is essential to recognize and own how one is as one stands before the Beloved: weak, grateful, sinful, needy. This ownership of my incarnate self relates me to the incarnate Jesus. In truth, to articulate that inner state demands honesty, probes causes, and elicits understanding. What a sacred gift to offer my sisters: an emptying for the purpose of union,t My creaturely limitation stands naked before the Christ I trust, and before the Body of Review for Religious Christ in my sisters. Transformation in Christ occurs when I share in Jesus' life--in his being child of God and sharer in created human nature. The next aspect of the second "means," sharing the next step to which one is called, flows out of the group's increasing sensitivity. Articulation of deeper desires was a requirement for Jesuit novices, and this may have influenced Medaille to recommend this sharing to the first sisters. Great desires for God need to be fostered into action or they die. One's next step may be small and subtle or grand and significant. It could be to create a dream, to change a pattern of behavior, to attend to one's health, or to begin a new relationship. Such matters require careful handling with regard to the members' personal and communal mission. They begin in the human heart. It was the sharing that Teresa of Avila had with John of the Cross that enabled them to take the next steps for the refoundation of the Carmelite order. It was the vision that Ignatius shared with Francis Xavier that led to his bringing the faith to south and east Asia. Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. The word God gives us is to be spoken and enfleshed. The emptying required in taking next steps in our lives is attested to in the lives of men and women who accomplished much for God. A Saturday morning once a month could be set aside to ensure Medaille's second "means." Although the focus would vary, all aspects of this "means" would be attended to within this leisurely time together. Community members could take turns facilitating a simple process that might begin with listening to a member describe a project that she feels called to initiate. The listening could be followed b~ quiet reflection, questions, and dialogue. In this way one member's hopeful desire would be gracefully fostered and nurtured or deemed unsuitable or temporarily tabled for deeper discerning. At present our Little Design community gathers in the community room on Saturday mornings for about an hour and a Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. March-April 2002 H~ner * Medaille'~ "Means" half, a time we consider sacred. Because we are a new community, we do this every Saturday unless some special event interferes. We realize, too, that it is easy to spend too much time on the "outer" house, and so we strive to ensure the more interior and bonding elements of this second "means." Medaille's third "means" is sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life, protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union. One might ask wh

Issue 60.6 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; ° R-eview for Re!igio~s b~lps people re~pon~ and befaithful to.God's, universal ~ail to holiness' ' " by making; available tO them the sl~irituai legades - " tb~t flow-~om the, charisms of Catbolicconsecrated life~ Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ° Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org 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 Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address chafiges to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 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 pers6nal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. vi,ew for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ NOVEMBER DECEMBER 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 6 contents 566 a wider mission The Interreligious World: A Nun's Experience There Mary C. Boys SNJM probes aspects of religious life in light of the Catholic-Jewish relationship and provides a testimony that emboldens her continued commitment to this lifeform. 581 'Unsuspected Mission A. Paul Dominic SJ identifies the mission of spiritual conversation as the basic apostolic work of Jesus and of all who are his followers. 594 spiritual directions On the Seventh Day God Rested Marie Beha OSC suggests ways of understanding and making more creative use of Sabbaths in our life. 602 Where Your Heart Is Donald Macdonald SMM sees in Jesus' journey to Jerusalem (in Luke) an ardor and constancy that our bonding with him through Sc~ipture's strong and burning words can accomplish also in us. Review for Religious evaluations 614 628 Criteria for Change: Women's Ministering to the Body of Christ Marie Brinkman SCL looks at the lives lived by sisters in the past as the foundation that must validate today's discernment criteria for the needed changes. Missionary or Mercenary Patrick Sean Moffett CFC offers a perspective on changes in membership, changes in collaboration, and changes in corporate commitment in order to stimulate discussion on community apostolates. 640 647 divine initiatives What Only God Can Make Ann Marie Paul SCC imaginatively ponders religious community pictured as a tree, with the trunk representing chastity, the branches poverty, and the leaves obedience. God's Will: Where Desires Commingle Denis Donoghue SJ ruminates on the seeking out of God's will and illustrates some principles of discernment in a personal'example. departments . 564 Prisms 655 Canonical Counsel: Readmission to a Religious Institute 661 Book Reviews 667 Indexes to Volume 60 November-Dece~nber 2001 prisms All of us have to be born and have to die. These "have to's" sound like some activity we must do, when both are rather something that happens to us. "Being born" and "being dying" are the leveling events that bookend all human life. What fills the space in between seems to spell out nothing but all the hills and valleys, rolling vineyards and desert wastelands, that represent the inequalities of human living. Some people are born into wealth, and they will never know want. Others are only fortunate enough at birth to have a mother healthy enough to give them mother's milk, but they will go through life malnour-ished and disease-prone. Some are born highly gifted and fail ever to develop their talents. Others struggle through life with a minimum of human endowments, but successfully act with a perennial zest. Some will spend their life in steel and glass skyscrapers, and others will know only the simplest of grass or plywood huts. Some will travel the world; others will know only their village. Except for "being born" and "being dying," we human beings seem to spend lifetimes of greatly unequal value. There seems to be no level playing field for all people to encounter each other on. God engages the inequalities of human life in the incarnation and birth of his Son. In the familiar hymn quoted in St. Paul's letter to the Philippians, our atti-tude must be "that of Christ: Though he was in the form of God, he did not deem equality with God something to be grasped at. Rather, he emptied himself and took the form of a slave, being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediendy accepting even death, death on a cross" (Ph 2: 5-9). Paul reflects that God takes on a true inequality. In becoming human, Christ goes from the fullness of divin- Review for Religious i'ty to the emptiness of humanity. Theologically, humanity is empty because everything that each of us has is gift, as Jesus reminds us in saying that all his words and his works are not his, but come from the Father. So in faith we know an inequality that is real between God and the human. But, then, in God's becoming human in Jesus, we come to know God's definitive action in breaking down all the appearances of inequality that divide us humans. Jesus entered into the leveling experience of all humans by "being born" and by "being dying." Through all the in-between time, he lived his life as an example and .taught by word and para-ble that the leveling process permeated the whole of human living. While friendly with rich and poor alike, with learned and unlearned, Jesus seems to violate our sense of leveling by his iden-tifying with the poor, with servants and slaves, with the marginal-ized. He reaches out to them in his care; he tells stories about them for our instruction. Jesus asks us to be like him--one who serves. In the Last Supper washing of the feet, Jesus stresses that he has given us an example. Jesus transfigures the language and meaning of slavery, ser-vice, and ministry. All these words now describe valued human interaction from a divine perspective. We all are meant to be helpers--in Scripture, sometimes called slaves, sometimes servants, sometimes minis-ters-- to one another in life. Helpers and those being helped are on the same level. One is not superior as a human being in either being the helper or minister or being the one being helped or ministered to. Jesus gave us an unforgettable image by answering "Who is my neighbor?" with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Th~ second half of the one commandment stresses that we love our neighbor as ourselves. Our love goes out to whomever, persons always on a level no different from ourselves. We neither reach down in helping nor reach up; we only reach across. By entering into our human level, God broke through all the specious levels that seem to divide humankind. By our entering into the divine experience of Jesus, we see and act as sons and daughters of a heav-enly Father. Every Christmas, we challenge ourselves anew about the Christian leveling of human life. By our faith we live life on the same level--the level has been forever divinely clarified because of the birth of Jesus. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 2001 a wider mission MARY C. BOYS The Interreligious World: A Nun's Experience There A great value of ecumenical and interreligious exchange is that it sheds light on one's own tradition. Seeing oneself through the eyes of others expands one's reflections, provokes absorbing questions, and clarifies values and modes of thought. While my roots in the religiously variegated Pacific Northwest mean I have long been in Protestant company, and my interest in Judaism dates back to my college years, it was only upon moving to New York City seven years ago that I staked my tent on ecumenical and inte~religious terrain. Teaching at the historically Protestant Union Theological Seminary and working in Christian-Jewish dialogue beyond Union's quadrangle afford new understandings not only of the religiously "other," but of Catholicism as well. And, by providing a flesh viewpoint on religious life, my situation exercises a profound personal effect) SandraSchneiders has observed that women religious seem able to work beyond the boundaries of Christianity while remaining deeply affiliated with it; we Mary C. Boys SNJM is the Skinner and McAlpin Professor of Practical Theology at Union Theological Seminary in New York City and the author of Has God Only One Blessing? Judaism as a Source of Christian Self-Understanding. Her address is Union Theological Seminary; 3041 Broadway; New York, N.Y. 10027. Review for Religious "are at once very deeply involved in institutional Catholicism and often widely and deeply involved in the experiences of spirituality beyond its denominational boundaries.''2 Yet, in exploring the topic of religious life and interreligious dialogue, she turns her gaze more to the East, to dialogue among monastics. By exploring the implications of interaction with Jews and Judaism, I hope to highlight a distinctive interreligious conversation that Schneiders touches on only tangentially, and thereby to add another layer to, and engage in occasional argument with, her outstanding scholarly study. Probing religious life, a topic on which I have never published, in light of the Catholic-Jewish relationship, on which I have published, challenges me to hold together two vital parts of my life. This essay, then, revolving around four "scenes," is deeply per-sonal, but I hope not solipsistic, for I intend it as a stimulus for conversation. I. London, June 2000, a Catholic-Jewish conference on "The Theology of Partnership." This conference involved participants principally from the United Kingdom and the United States, along with a few European and Israeli scholars and a Vatican delegation. Although the large number of participants hindered the flow of discussion, our exchange was for the most part candid and stimulating. In the latter part of the conference, one of the Catholics, a priest, launched into a romanticized mini-sermon about Mary as virgin and mother. Its traditionalist theology and tangential relation to the point under discussion elicited considerable skepticism, if one might judge by the body language of rolled eyes and heads held in hands. Many sought recognition by the chair to respond (including all the Catholic women), but I have less recollection of the rejoinders than I do of the comment by the woman next to me. A Reform rabbi from the United Kingdom, she wrote furiously on her notepad: "Mary. Virgin. Why don't they talk about real women?" Liminal. Marginal. Such terms, used by Schneiders (among others) to describe religious life strike a chord. Insofar as this lifeform has a prophetic character rather than a hierarchical status, religious life is indeed lived on the "thresholds where realities meet, dash, and merge.''3 Nonetheless, such terms are sometimes far too academic to describe moments of feeling just how odd and anomalous we religious are. While on one level I suspect I November-December 2001 Boy~ * The lnterreli¢ous Worm To be with Jews as a member of a religious congregation is to experience our liminality, our oddness, on a regular basis. understand what my table companion was objecting to, the starkness of her opposition of "virgin" and "real women" hit hard. In reflecting later, I realize I never use terminology about virginity to describe celibacy; not only does it connote a naive innocence, but it speaks only to the dimension of abstention from genital sexual intimacy. Without question, this self-chosen abstention---or, better, an abstention that is part of our being called to a distinctive way of life--has its ascetic aspects. Nevertheless, the term virginity seems to suggest that we have repressed our sexuality, thereby ceasing to be "real" women. Whether or not the Jungian-grounded theory of the "virgin archetype" or a similar perspective can overcome the cultural stereotypes of virginity is a real question, but this dimension of Finding the Treasure offers a compelling description of the inner autonomy celibacy can offer. In the halls of Union, being a nun (in the imprecise use of the term) is sometimes seen as a "weird" way of life. Yet consecrated celibacy is not unknown in Protestantism. Students of Hinduism and Buddhism, moreover, know about celibacy in those traditions. It, is, however, completely uncharacteristic of rabbinic Judaism, which places intense emphasis on family life and home-based ritual.4 So to be with Jews as a member of a religious congregation is to experience our liminality, our oddness, on a regular basis. While this experience can be jarring, as it was at that conference June 2000, in general it has increased my sensitivity to the peculiarities of religious life, a sensitivity that can be dulled by remaining in the more homogeneous company of one's religious congregation.5 At the same time, it makes the God question more prominent. Jews typically are more reticent in speaking about God, a healthy corrective to the overfamiliarity with which many Christians ~peak about the Holy One.6 The presence, however, of persons for whom the "God quest" is the principal explanation for their liminal way of life raises questions, at least implicitly, about the divine-human relationship. Perhaps, to balance the incident with which I began this section, I should report that recently, at the conclusion of a Review for Religious weekend spent as a scholar-in-residence at a synagogue, an elderly man came up to thank me. His eyes welling with tears, he said, "You answered God's call many years ago, and now you are able to be among us." II. November 2000, a gathering of Holocaust survivors in the New York metropolitan area. While giving a series of lectures in a Catholic parish on New York's East Side the previous September, I met Lewis Weinstein, a businessman who had just published a novel on the Spanish Inquisition, The Heretic. A few weeks later he phoned to ask if I would share the podium with him at an event sponsored by the New York area Holocaust survivors. They had invited him to speak about his book, and he in turn thought it would be good if I would speak about developments in the Catholic Church's relations with Jews. His historical novel portrays a grim time. The Inquisition bears witness to the ways in which the legacy of anti-Judaism became a justification for greed and intolerance and persecution. His selections mirrored the bleakness. For example, one of the principal characters, Friar Ricardo Perez, copies texts from the New Testament and early church writers such as Chrysostom in order to justify his hatred of Jews. Lew's final excerpt was from John Chrysostom, whose vitriol toward Jews is well known: "These Jews are gathering choruses of effeminates and a great rubbish heap of harlots. Their synagogues are brothels and theaters, dens of robbers and lodgings for wild beasts. Jews know but one thing: to fill their bellies and be drunk. Their condition is no better than that of pigs and goats. Refusing to accept Christ, they have made themselves fit for s!aughter. The synagogue is a dwelling of demons, and the Jews who pray there themselves are demons. If the Jews are acting against God, must they not be serving demons? For they did sacrifice their sons and daughters to demons. Jewish mother~ ate their own children, and the hands of Jewish women boiled their own children. Their synagogues are fortresses of the devil, and the pit of all perdition. The devil is a murderer, and the Jew demons who serve him are murderers, tOO.''7 The air hung heavy in the room. Then the chair introduced me in her heavily accented English. "Mr. Weinstein wanted this Sister Mary to come. I'm not sure why. I did not have such a good experience of nuns in Poland. Anyway, here's Sister Mary Boys." " "Oy ray," I thought on the way to the podium. "How did I get myself into this one--and what now?" November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious Worm There was enormous anger in that room, much of it directed at the Catholic Church, which I represented to them. Their anger was not simply the church's failure to live the gospel during the Shoah (Holocaust), but also their experience as children. These were men and women who had been taunted, even beaten, as "Christ-killers," who feared--with good reason--walking by a church, who were terrified to go out in the streets on "Good" Friday. I had with me the 1997 "Declaration of Repentance" by the French bishops. Its words came to life before my eyes: In the judgment of historians, it is a well-proven fact that for centuries, up until Vatican Council II, an anti-Jewish traditibn stamped its mark in differing ways on Christian doctrine and teaching, in theology, apologetics, preaching, and in the liturgy. It was on such ground that the venomous plant of hatred for the Jews was able to flourish. Hence the heavy inheritance we still bear in our century, with all its consequences which are so difficult to wipe out. Hence our still open wounds? To work as a Catholic with Jews is to witness many "open wounds," wounds from the "heavy inheritance" of our own tradition. For this reason, the Catholic-Jewish encounter is sui generis in the interreligious sphere, a point Schneiders overlooks in saying that the interreligious encounter differs "in virtually every way from the ecumenical one. It involves an encounter not between separated siblings, but between virtually total strangers.''9 We Catholics and Jews are indeed separated siblings, and that separation has been bitter, violent, and tragic. We are not strangers; we have been enemies--and to work for reconciliation is an obligation of justice. It is difficult enough for us as Catholic women to deal with church structures that mute our voices. It is even more disillusioning to study the long history of Christian contempt for Jews, the tradition of adversus Judaeos: how rivalry hardened into contempt, and contempt fostered disputation, and disputation developed into demonization, and demonization fertilized this "venomous plant of h~tred for the Jews." Like all of history's stories, the church's relationship with Jews and Judaism is a complicated tale--with significant contextual factors in every age, occasions of amity and respect and of prophets with a different vision. Nonetheless, it is largely a story of moral blindness, imperialism, and violence. While I am not personally complicit, it is Revie~v for Religious a story of which I am deeply ashamed--and one that demands I examine my complicity in other betrayals of the gospel. I am grateful for the privilege, difficult though it is, of facing those whom our history has hurt. Meeting survivors and knowing children of survivors (and, for that matter, knowing any Jews at all, for who among them has not been touched in some way by the Shoah?) means not only reading this history with deepened sensitivity, but also being emboldened to act differendy so that "the spoiled seeds of anti-Semitism should never again take root in the human heart."1° Nevertheless, confronting this history causes anguish and compounds my problems as a feminist with the institutional church. The "open wound" of which the French bishops spoke festers even as I struggle with my Catholic identity in a church that treats women as second-class citizens. I live, too, with the irony that the official church seems more committed to dialogue with Jews than with their own women. The confrontation with history, moreover, triggers another crisis, a dark night of the soul. If "the most acutely painful point of intersection between the postmodern sensibility and religious faith is the God-image,'' 11 then the Shoah is the starkest event in this intersection. It brings one face-to-face with the "abusing God," requiring us to ponder unbearable questions about the One to whom we pray22 As grateful as I am for all I have learned (and continue to learn) about prayer from my sisters, we seem reluctant to address these searing questions in our common prayer. Indeed, I cannot recall any occasion in which the Shoah and its challenges to our understanding of God have been raised to the conscious level in the communal prayer of my own congregation, the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary. This leads me to wonder whether any congregation, with the exception of the Sisters of Sion, confronts "God issues" that swirl around the Shoah23 The way that many Jews, especially in this post-Holocaust period, address God in a challenging manner has much to teach us. Elie Wiesel says that those who stand within the covenant have the To work as a Catholic with Jews is to witness many "open wounds," wounds from the "heavy inheritance" of our own tradition. Nbvember-December 2001 Boys * The Interreh~ious Worm right to say anything to God--even blasphemy.~4 In the concluding section of his profound meditation on God and abuse (including the Shoah, but also sexual abuse), David Blumenthal composes darifig prayers for use in Jewish liturgical services. He cautions that prayers of this type require preparation: One must have a deep commitment to God, a deep desire to want to be with God, to want to have a relationship with God. It must be important, indeed a matter of spiritual life and death, to be able to address God. One must have, too, deep and abiding faith in the covenant, in our ability to address God no matter what the circumstances and no matter how severe our prayer may be; and in God's desire to hear us and to help us address God. One must also have a sense of proportion about our relationship to God. We are creatures, not Creator. We are innocent, as victims of abuse; but we are sinners, in many other matters. We are accusers, yet we are children. This creates a tension in our images of ourselves, of God, and of the proper relationship between us; yet we must live, think, and pray within this tension.~s Facing the history of our relationship with Jews and learning Jewish ways of addressing God have provided depth and texture to my own prayer. I~I. Friday nights: a guest at the dinner table for Sbabbat. Passover: a guest at the Seder. I feel deeply privileged to join jewish friends for Shabbat or for the Seder. I have learned more than I can say from the lively conversations and observing the ways in which they su'ive to lead lives of integrity in fidelity to Torah. Without idealizing the tradition, I find much cause for "holy envy": its depth of prayer mirrored in the Siddur and in the cycle of festivals, the intellectual vitality (especially the value placed on study), the prizing of family, and home-based religious practices. My relationships leave me no doubt that Judaism fosters a holy way of life and that the ways of Torah are salvific for those committed to walking in its ways. The privilege accorded me in coming to know the power of another religious tradition finds little reflection in the recent Vatican declaration Dominus Iesus (D1).16 My experience provides a different vantage point from which to view other religious traditions. Even as DI recognizes that the dialogue between Christianity and other religions raises new questions that should be "addressed through pursuing new paths of research, advancing proposals, and Review for Religious suggesting ways of acting that call for attentive discernment" (§3), it reiterates traditional formulations of faith in arguing against pluralism. It condemns the mentality of indifferentism "characterized by a religious relativism which leads to the belief that 'one religion is as good as another'" (§22). The declaration refutes those who regard the Catholic Church as merely "one way of salvation alongside those constituted by the other religions" (§21). Rather, "Jesus Christ is the mediator and universal redeemer" (§11). Further, "one can and must say that Jesus Christ has a significance and a value for the human race and its history which are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute. Jesus is, in fact, the Word of God made man for the salvation of all" (§15). According to the Congre-gation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), one may still speak of equality in interreligious dialogue, but only in reference to the "equal personal dignity of the parties in dialogue, not to doctrinal content nor even less to the position of Jesus Christ . Thus, the certainty of the universal salvific will of God does not diminish but rather increases the duty and urgency of the proclamation of salvation and of conversion to the Lord Jesus Christ" (§22). Without entering into detailed theological analysis of Dominus Iesus, I simply want to call attention here to one of its primary deficiencies. The declaration has no sense of the relational, no feel for human interchange. Other religions are an abstraction, a category, an it. DI pays no attention to these religions as they exist in the lives of real people; it shows no sensitivity to the "thick" texture of other traditions. The writers, rather, claim objectivity: "Objectively speaking, they [other religions] are in a gravely deficient situation." Such a judgment ignores theologies of pluralism that allow one to privilege his or her own convictions while taking account of the reasonability of others' beliefs.~7 In judging dialogue from a position of omniscience, the declaration bears no indication of what we might learn from the religious other. Facing the history of our relationship with Jews and learning Jewish ways of addressing God have provided depth and texture to my own prayer. Noventber-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Into'religious Worm On the explicit level, DI says little about the church's relationship with Judaism.~ DI refers to Jews just once (§13): "The first Christians encountered the Jewish people, showing them the fulfillment of salvation that went beyond the Law," thus implicitly porraying Judaism as legalistic. DI then falls silent about Judaism. Nonetheless, its judgment~ seem to encompass Judaism, because DI notes no exceptions. It works only with three categories: Roman Catholicism, other Christian churches (distinguishing between those with apostolic succession and a valid Eucharist and "ecclesiastical communities which have not preserved the valid episcopate and the genuine and integral substance of the eucharistic mystery [and therefore] are not churches in the proper sense" §17), and non-Christian religions. In view of such a sweeping scope, readers may reasonably infer that the CDF includes Judaism within the rubric of non-Christian religions. Jews, therefore, seem also to be subject to the claim that, because "Jesus Christ is the . . . universal mediator" (§11), "one can and must say" that his significance and value for "the human race and its history., are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute., for the salvation of all" (§ 15). For Catholics this means being "committed to proclaiming tq all people the truth definitively revealed by the Lord and to announcing the necessity of conversion to Jesus Christ and of adherence to the church through baptism and the other sacraments in order to participate fully in communion with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit" (§22). Such a view stands in tension with my own experience.~9 As one privileged to be a frequent guest in Jewish homes, to learn from Jewish scholars, to experience something of the profundity of Jewish liturgy and prayer, and, above all, to have close Jewish friends, I have an abiding respect, even awe, for the depth of Judaism. The way of Torah certainly seems to me salvific for those who walk in it. I cannot.in conscience seek the conversion of a Jew. This is not a matter of indifferentism, but rather a glimpse of the incomprehensible God whose ways transcend our under-standing. IV. Three items: Item: "Jesus' relations with women seem to have been remarkably free, given the reserve that Jewish custom in his day required."2° Item: "At the historical moment when Jesus was born Review for Religious into the world, the stares of Jewish women had never been lower . By the time of Jesus' birth, many decades of rabbinic commentary and custom had surrounded Old Testament literature. And these rabbinic traditions considerably lowered the status of women.'m Item: "Palestinian Hebrew women were among the poorest in the world in Jesus' day. This was probably because they had no inheritance rights and could be divorced for the flimsiest of reasons. Hebrew men could divorce their wives for anything from burning the dinner (Hillel) to adultery (Shammat). Yet Hebrew women were not allowed to divorce their husbands .A. Hebrew woman had minimal to no property rights A. .child was held to be Jewish only if the mother was Jewish. Most Jewish girls were betrothed by their fathers at a young age. Jewish women were held to be unclean while menstruating. If she inadvertently touched a man while having her menses, he was obliged to undergo a week-long purification ritual before worshiping at the Temple . In early Judaism women did proclaim and prophesy, but in Jesus' day they weren't permitted to proclaim Torah at synagogue because of their periodic 'uncleanness.' As a rule, only the rabbis' wives were so educated. Women were not accepted as witnesses in Jewish law, nor could they teach the law. Women had no official religious or leadership roles in first-century Judaism. Jesus' behavior toward women, even viewed through the androcentric lens of the gospel texts, is remarkable.''2z I could multiply such examples; they seem ubiquitous in feminist writing, both scholarly (less now, though more common among feminist authors from the third world and the East) and pastoral. These perspectives are communicated widely among women's communities and beyond them. My encounter with Judaism helps me look at such claims critically, especially those related to the Second Temple period and the early church. I am sympathetic to the desire to understand Jesus as one who liberated his followers--including (perhaps especially) women--from the oppressive structures of religious authorities. (Yes, many of us consider some religious authorities oppressive in our time.) Nonetheless, I have come to agree with Mary Rose D'Angelo that portraying Jesus as the one "who saves women from Judaism" bothoversimplifies and distorts the situation of Jewish women in lst-century Palestine23 It does indeed seem that, in many feminist and liberationist circles, "no plot is complete witho.uLt a-575- November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious Worm reference to the 'Jewish patriarchal system,' although very rare are comments on the similarly patriarchal pagan cultures of antiquity.''24 Sadly, I have come to see that many who do theology under the rubric of feminism have drunk all too deeply from the wells of anti-Judaism. Despite the rich literature on the Pharisees, most notably that of Anthony Saldarini,25 in many liberal and feminist circles they function as the symbol of precisely what is wrong with religious authorities. (For example: "[The Pharisees and their colleagues the scribes] tried to keep control over people's access to God through control of the Law. Jesus denounced this pretension and returned to the people the true means of access to God: love and com-passion." 26) In many feminist writings, moreover, the laws of ritual purity, which the Pharisees are portrayed as championing, serve as the source of the clearest contrast between oppressive Judaism and the liberating Jesus. We are instructed about the "dehumanizing situation in which the women of the time were enslaved." We learn how menstruating women were "discriminated against, degraded, and dehumanized,m7 In short, some feminist writers contrast Jewish women of the Second Temple period with New Testament narratives to support their claims that, "at its inception, pristine Christianity and Jesus himself were free of any misogyny or gender bias." Thereby they implicitly buttress the argument of Christian superiority over Judaism.28 Thus I differ with Sandra Schneiders's portrayal of Jesus vis-a-vis his Jewish contemporaries. While I appreciate--and agree wholeheartedly with--her larger argument about the way in which the prophetic character of religious life places communities in tension with ecclesiastical authorities, I disagree with claims such as "Jesus was rejected by official Judaism" and the more subtle assertion that, "like Jesus, who taught both respect for ecclesiastical leaders insofar as they legitimately hold office and resistance to ecclesiastical oppression, religious must stand with and for the disempowered in the church (cf. Mt 23:2-5 [the scathing denunciation of the scribes and Pharisees]).''z9 The Pharisees, despite their depiction in the Gospels, cannot historically be regarded as representatives of "official" Judaism (there was no such official body), and we should not use them as symbols of clericalism, however useful that might be to feminist causes. They were not the equivalent of ecclesiastical leaders. We would do well to listen to Jewish feminists--such as Paula Review for Religious Fredriksen's observations about the purity laws,3° Ross Kraemer's critique of rabbinic prooftexting,3~ and Rabbi Elyse Goldstein's wrestling with the meaning of the purity rules for her own life.32 To recognize that "Jewish hopes of a new and transformed world made the movement begun by Jesus and his companions and early Christian communities forums for participation and leadership for women" necessitates refining our argument, but in no way diminishes it.33 To acknowledge the complexity of patriarchy in antiquity as well as in early Christianity entails facing the arrogance of our own limited perspectives. In sum, my encounter with Jews and Judaism has brought deepened appreciation for the distinctiveness of religious life in the Catholic tradition. It has challenged me to face the long shadow of our history and to grapple with many questions about God in light of the Shoah. It shapes my theological vantage point on Dominus Iesus as well as various feminist writings. Above all, my encounter inspires hope. For all that lies unresolved within our church in regard to relations with Jews, what has happened between Christians and Jews in our time testifies to the power of the Spirit to bring healing and new life--a testimony that emboldens my own commitment to religious life. Notes ~ This is an edited version of a paper presented at the conference on "The Nun in the Postmodern World," sponsored by the Suenens Foundation in Leuven, Belgium, 31 May--4 June 2001. My thanks to Dr. Doris Donnelly, director of the Suenens Foundation and to Mariana Murphy SNJM, to whom I dedicated it on the occasion of her 70th anniversary of religious profession. 2 Sandra M. Schneiders, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context, Vol. 1 of Religious Life in a New Millennium (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), p. 348. 3 Schneiders, Finding, p. 330. 4 Celibacy seems to have been characteristic only of the Therapeutae, a lst-centuryJewish ascetic group near Alexandria, Egypt. Scholars debate whether the covenanters at Qumran were celibate and, if so, whether that was a permanent or temporary state. See Lawrence Schiffman, Reclaiming the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Doubleday, 1994), pp. 127-143, and Joseph Fitzmyer, Responses to 101 Questions on the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 66. s Schneiders speaks of religious life as "nonnatural" insofar as it involves bypassing the most fundamental natural mediations of the God- November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious World human engagement. She distinguishes "nonnatural" from unnatural or antinatural "because nothing is mote fundamental to our humanity than the quest for God." She also notes that this path is fraught with danger, including "ascetical extremism, rigidity, misanthropy, false mysticism, gnosticism and esotericism, elitism" (Finding, pp. 131-132). 6 For an analysis of this reticence, including its problematical character, see Steven M. Cohen and Arnold M. Eisen, The Jew 14/Tthin: Self, Family, and Community in America (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2000), esp. chap. 6, "God and the Synagogue," pp. 155-180. 7 Lewis Weinstein, The Heretic (New York: goodnewfiction.com, 2000), p. 158. Later Weinstein has Perez use Chrysostom in a sermon at the cathedral (see pp. 242-244). s Quoted in Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs, Catholics Remember the Holocaust (Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1998), p. 32. 9 Finding, p. 336. 10 This is the conclusion of the 1998 Vatican document We Remember: A Reflection on the Shoab; see Catholics Remember the Holocaust. The United States Conference of Catholi~ Bishops (USCCB) has now published a companion volume, Catholic Teaching on the Shoah: Implementing the Holy See's "We Remember" (2001). II Schneiders, Finding, p. 195. 12 I take the phrase "abusing God" from the work of David R. Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God: A Theology of Protest (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1993). 13 On the Sisters of Sion, see my Has God Only One Blessing?Judaimt as a Source of Christian Self-Understanding (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), pp. 17-22. 14 "The questions man poses to God may be the same God poses to man. Nevertheless, it is man who must live--and formulate--it. In so doing, he challenges God, which is perm. issible, indeed required. He who says no to God is not necessarily a renegade. Everything depends on the way he says it, and why. One can say anything as long as it is for man, not against him, as long as one remains inside the covenant; only if you repudiate and judge your people from the outside will you become a renegade." Elie Wiesel, One Generation AJ~er (New York: Avon, 1972), p. 216. ,s Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God, pp. 284-285. 16 "'Dominus Iesus': On the Unicity and. Salvific Universality of Jesus Christ and the Church," Origins 30, no. 14 (14 September 2000). It is dated 6 August 2000 and was issued on 5 September 2001--ironically, the same week as Jewish scholars released Dabru Emet, an eight-point statement responding to Christian attempts to come to terms with anti- Judaism. (For Dabru Emet, see www.jcrelations.net or www.icjs.org; also Tikva Frymer-Kensky, David Novak, Peter Ochs, David Fox Sandmel, ReviewforReligious and Michael Signer, Christianity in Jewish Terms (Boulder: Westview Press, 2000). ,7 See, e.g., Michael Barnes, Christian Identity and Religious Pluralism: Religions in Conversation (Nashville: Abingdon, 1989), and S. Mark Heim, Salvations: Truth and Difference in Religion (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). ~8 See my "Dominus Iesus and Judaism," forthcoming in Richard Sparks, ed., Proceedings of the Fi~h-sixth Annual Convention of the Catholic Theological Society of America. 19 For an account of something of what I have learned from Jews, see my Jewish Christian Dialogue: One Woman's Experience (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1997). 20 Monique Alexandre, "Early Christian Women," in/t History of Women in the West, Vol. 1, From Ancient Goddesses to Christian Saints, ed. Pauline Schmitt Pantel (Cambridge: Belknap Press, 1992), pp. 407-444 (citation, p. 420). 21 Cited in Judith Plaskow, "Feminist Anti-Judaism and the Christian God," Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 7, no. 2 (Fall 1991): 104-107; in Helen P. Fry, Christian-Jewish Dialogue: A Reader (Exeter, U.K.: University of Exeter Press, 1996), p. 233. 22 Christine Schenk CSJ, "Celebrating the Inclusive Jesus," Celebration: An Ecumenical Worship Resource (February 2000): 80-84 (citation, 81-82). 23 Mary Rose D'Angelo, "Gender in the Origins of Christianity: Jewish Hopes and Imperial Exigencies," in Joseph Martos and Pierre Hegy, eds., Equal at the Creation: Sexism, Society, and Christian Thought (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1998), pp. 25-48 (citation, p. 25). 24 Amy-Jill Levine, "Lilies of the Field and Wandering Jews: Biblical Scholarship, Women's Roles, and Social Location," in Ingrid Rosa Kitzberger, ed., Transformative Encounters: Jesus and Women Re-Viewed (Leiden: Brill, 1999): pp. 330-352 (citation, p. 332). 2s See Anthony J. Saldarini, Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees in Palestinian Society (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1988); also his "Pharisees," in David Noel Freedman et al., eds., The Anchor Bible Dictionary, Vol. 5 (New York: Doubleday, 1992), pp. 289-303. 26 Tereza Cavalcanti, "Jesus, the Penitent Woman, and the Pharisee," Journal of Hispanic/Latino Theology 2, no. 1 (1994): 28-40 (citation, 40). 27 H. Kinukawa, Women and Jesus in Mark: A Japanese Feminist Perspective (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1994), pp. 12, 27. 28 See Ross S. Kraemer, "Jewish Women and Christian Women: Some Caveats," in Kraemer and Mary Rose D'Angelo, eds., Women and Christian Origins (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), pp. 35-49 (citation, p. 36). 29 Schneiders, Finding, pp. 334 and 255, respectively. I am also uncomfortable with her section on Jesus as a prophetic model in her otherwise superb 2000 Madeleva Lecture, With Oil in Their Lamps: Faith, Feminism, and the Future (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), pp. 97-108. In my November-December 2001 Boys ¯ Tbe lnterreligious Worm judgment, greater sensitivity to the heterogeneity of lst-century Judaism (arguments about Sabbath observance and the Temple [see pp. 100-101] were part of this heterogeneity), recognition that the Roman prefect controlled appointment of the high priest ("Nevertheless Jesus was executed by the Romans on the charge brought against him by the official of Judaism," p. 100), and contextualizing of phrases such as the "narrowness that had marred religion from long before his birth in the exclusivity of the Jews" would provide a more nuanced context for her claims. 30 Paula Fredriksen, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews: A Jewish Life and the Emergence of Christianity (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1999), esp. pp. 197-207. 3, Kraemer, "Jewish Women and Chrisfan Origins, pp. 37-39. 32 Elyse Goldstein, ReVisions: Seeing Torah through a Feminist Lens (Woodstock, Vermont: Jewish Lights Publishing, 1998), esp. pp. 94-114. 33 D'Angelo, "Gender Hopes," p. 25. Mary at the Window Tawdry as any plastic trinket outshopped To some Asian source, and mass-produced In garish glass-like gold and blue To catch the sun, Mary Most Holy is reduced To a window ornament, turning to face out, Turning on filaments again for facing in On household disorder, dissension, kitchenwork, Children at play on the floor, where a thin Shaft of shining blue light circles one Dazzled child looking up: Mary catches a son. Nancy G. Westerfield R~vie~v for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Unsuspected Mission MeisSion, which is much more talked about than put into xecution by talkers, is at bottom a very simple human experience of sharing with others our living faith in God. As such it is accessible to all of us anywhere, if only we are interested in it. It can begin whenever we meet others and spontaneously converse with them. It seems that not enough has been said or even thought about these ordinary human encounters, without which no mission can be started or sustained, whereas perhaps too much has been said about progressive modes of mission. Genesis of a New Mission With the founding of the Society of Jesus, St. Ignatius Loyola surely initiated a whole new saga of mission in the world of his time. The saga, however, may not be or even seem new any more. In fact, since Vatican Council II, there has been quite a legitimate revision of his ideas about promoting and defending the faith. But one exercise of that old mission has still not lost its newness; it is relevant today, but without making a splash. That exercise is simply, to quote St. Ignatius's own words, "to be profitable to individuals by spiritual conversation.''~ Accordingly, unlike the monasteries in mountain solitudes from the time of St. Benedict in the 6th century or the hermitages erected in earlier times in the desert far away from the evil world, the Jesuit residences came to be situated near the centers of towns and cities, where people would gather and A. Paul Dominic sJ writes again from Satyodayam; 12-5-33 S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission Different from preaching, the mission of spiritual conversation is best characterized and distinguished as pure and simple conversation. intermingle. Only then would the Jesuits be able to meet the people naturally enough, have normal dealings with them, and, as occasions arose, converse with them spiritually. That was an unassuming exercise of mission with an enduring validity, for there can be no time when personal mission, that is, reaching out to specific individuals wherever we are and keeping them company, will be out of tune with the times. The movement of new mission, which in God's providence the Society of Jesus came to be and even stand for, was itself a product of person-to-person missions that Ignatius himself exercised. Having sensed the working of God in himself, he could not keep the experience to himself, but felt an urge to share it with others. He would have certainly loved the angel Raphael's words: "It is good to conceal the secret of a king, but to acknowledge and reveal the works of God, and with fitting honor to acknowledge him" (Tb 12:7, NRSV unless otherwise indicated), Sharing with others his treasured experience of God gradually became a mode of life for him. He came to see it as a matter of course for him: to glorify God and at the same time be of help to others within his reach. Whereas his first contacts were the women whom he chanced upon at his usual haunts of the chapel or hospital, his fame)us beneficiaries were Pierre Favre (now a blessed) and Francis Xavier (now a saint) and a few others at the University in Paris, who with him came to form the Society of Jesus. It is no wonder that people who experienced the charm of his spiritual conversation tried to. be like him. It seems that the early Jesuits' fecundity in mission was in no small way owing to their exercise of spiritual conversation. Xavier, who blazed the trail of mission for the nascent Jesuit order and for the church of his day, was known for his extraordinary expertise in spiritual conversation. Not only companions of his like Peter Canisius (now a saint) witnessed to itfl but also the people of Bologna, who could say twenty years after his short stay with them: "He spoke little, but with great persuasivene.ss. He talked of divine things with great Review for Religious ¯ devotion, and his words penetrated into the hearts of his hearers and held them fast.''3 Itis a pity that those who have criticized Xavier's mission outreach with their post-Vatican II historical hindsight have failed woefully the postmodern mission by their ignorance of the practical skill in which Xavier excelled, namely, conversational mission--which, to be sure, will be out of date when humans cease speaking and being sociable. The Makeup of Conversational Mission Though the expression "conversational mission" used just now, and the equivalent expressions used earlier, are self-explanatory enough, there is nothing like getting full information straight from the horse's mouth. What did Ignatius himself say when he spoke to his little band of friends regarding their kind of preaching. We get some idea from his answer to a Dominican authority's peremptory question "Whatever do you preach?" Ignatius answered: "We do not preach but do speak familiarly of spiritual things with people, as one does after dinner, with those who invite us." In this brief and frank response--which, however, his interlocutor considered equivocal--one may discern and recognize three elements of the conversational mission: (1) conversation itself, (2) a veering to spiritual matters, and (3) a pleasant, familiar tone of voice. Notice that this Ignatian anecdote itself demonstrates spiritual conversation. A contrasting example may clarify the matter. Gregory of Nyssa had observed Christians in the marketplace of Constantinople. He reported: Constantinople is full of mechanics and slaves, who are all of them profound theologians, preaching in the shops and the streets. If you want a man to change a piece of silver, he informs you wherein the Son differs from the Father; if you ask the price of a loaf, you are told by way of reply that the Son is inferior to the Father; and, if you inquire whether the bath is ready, the answer is that the Son is made out of nothing,s This is certainly not true spiritual conversation, having only a specious similarity to it. Different from preaching, the mission of spiritual conversation is best characterized and distinguished as pure and simple conversation. It is that first and foremost, with no agenda except being present to others and getting acquainted.6 One talks with a November-December 2001 Dominic * Unsuspected Mission single individual or a small cluster, not a crowd. Such a conversation happens when we adopt towards people a welcoming attitude, perhaps forgoing for the time being our own business or preoccupation. It unfolds when we are truly ourselves, without putting on airs or having an ax to grind. It is engaging by its very nature, as we respond sensitively to the personal and situational stimuli around, now by word, now by silence, and all through by our bearing. Such a conversation does not follow any pattern except that of people letting one another's personalities freely rise to the occasion according to the twists and turns of the talk and the topics. If there is any way of programming it from beginning to end, it is by eager and attentive listening. Such conversing is like the breath of wind whose coming and going is beyond our reckoning, but which refreshes us and gives us pleasure. It is as natural and spirited as that. Engaging in it, we take others' measure and strive to bring out the best in them, thereby improving and testing ourselves (Si 9:14; 27:5). When people open the homes of their hearts in this hospitable way, Abha-God cannot be far away (1 Jn 4:12). If the art of dealing and conversing with people is, obviously enough, a natural human talent or acquirement, it is also, according to the mind of Ignatius, a grace.7 Perhaps such an understanding may be read between the lines of Paul's "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone" (Col 4:6, NIV). Surely any conversation done ¯ in the reverent awareness of the Lord Jesus (Col 3:17; 1 P 3:15) will enable us to be at our best, natural or supernatural. Thinking along this line, perhaps, Kahlil Gibran could counsel: "When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the marketplace, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.''8 Those who make sense of this and make spa~e for the Spirit will come to know how the~ are led, even in the face of the unfriendly, to talk without anxious forethought and yet reveal a truth that they themselves are not directly aware of (Mr 10:17-20). Besides such inspired moments, however, there are bound to be routine occasions or chance meetings when they will have to exercise their grace of conversation on a more deliberate, reflective level. At the appropriate time they will speak on spiritual affairs, as Sirach counseled long ago: "Let your conversation be with intelligent people, and let all your discussion be about the law of the Most High. Let the. righteous be your dinner companions, and let your glory be in the fear of the Lord" (Si 9:15-16). And the more Review for Religious they speak from the abundance of their heart, the better (Mt 12:34), following Paul's declaration "we believe, and so we speak" (2 Co 4:13). They will not resort to spiritual generalities, but will offer a specifically personal spiritual word of witness arising from whatever God has produced in the recesses of their heart and the externals of their life, as St. Paul does often (2 Co 1:4). In general, such conversational talk of God will be directed to what the partners in conversation require (Col 4:6). Far from anything bordering on evil, it will be "only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that [our] words may give grace to those who hear" (Ep 4:29), furthering their interior progress and stimulating their power for good in a society that hungers for more than small mercies: namely, justice, freedom, good faith, neighborliness, equality, and, not least, economic sufficiency, the proof of all the above? This conversational mission is to be carried on, for all its spiritual vision, in pleasant, discreet, and wholesome familiarity, the kind that may be witnessed (as Ignatius remarks) between the glad host and the happy guest who take time after a good meal to share what is in their hearts. Familiarity is the climate in which the conversational seeds of the spirit are best sown and harvested. Familiarity, however, is of different levels. The greater the familiarity, the better the opportunity for spiritual conversation. And so it is worthwhile to work discreedy towards deepening the familiarity. Familiarity or intimacy being the opposite of imposition, no conversational mission can be attempted if people make us aware that they would rather be left alone. Avoiding the least intrusion into their privacy, then, we must gendy gain their favor by our genuine respect for them, our interest in them as individuals with unique endowments, and our concern for any particular needs they may have. It is a matter of sincere accommodation, becoming all things to all people (I Co 9:22), all the while being sensitive to their ideals, their finer spiritual instincts. This is neighborliness towards them, without which no mission for their spiritual welfare can ever be thought of. So, even if they are not well disposed towards us, we deal with them pro-actively and seek to win them over, as God does. It is our familiarity with God that should overflow in our relation with others and make them feel at home with us. If we ever succeeded in this way of living, we would perhaps never meet anyone, however far gone in error, without effecting a change for the better. Blessed Pierre Favre was known precisely for such surprisingly wonderful encounters as November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsus~ected Mission he spoke about God without boring or annoying anyone, and so was lauded by Ignatius himself as one who could draw the water of grace from hardened souls. For those who would learn from him, here is a little precious lesson that he confided in a letter to a friend: In the first place., anyone who desires to be serviceable to heretics of the present age should hold them in great affection, . . . putting out of his heart all thoughts and feelings that tend to their discredit. The next thing he must do is win their goodwill and love by friendly dealings and converse on matters about which there is no difference between us, taking care to avoid all controversial subjects that lead to bickering and mutual recriminations. The things that unite us ought to be the first ground of our approach, not the things that keep us apart?~ Scriptural Suggestiveness Speaking about his spiritual discipleship, Ignatius confided that he was taught by God as a child by his master. In sharing his spiritual knowledge with others, however, he used theological and scriptural ideas and language, as in evident in his Spiritual Exercises. The question arises, then, whether there are scriptural indications behind his idea of conversational mission? Rescued by Jesus for Abba-God, Ignatius bums with desire to follow suit: looking for ways to edify and help his neighbors, he discovers that spiritual conversation significantly serves that purpose. Advocating this practice expressly and officially in the Jesuit Constitutions, he advances this reason: "The Lord has given care of his neighbor to everyone."~2 There seems to be reference to Sirach 17:12 or 17:14b and Luke 10:25-37, and certain other passages have a bearing on his divinely favored understanding of the mission of conversation. One is: "Proclaim the message; be persistent when the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching" (2 Tm 4:2). Is there much in common between proclaiming and conversing? Proclaiming is the activity which is described by the Greek verb kerussein here in 2 Timothy. Elsewhere in the New Testament, the " leprous man and the demoniac who were healed by Jesus, and the friends who witnessed Jesus' healing of the deaf and dumb man, are later "proclaiming" the blessing they received. Obviously, their proclaiming cannot be anything other than simply and Review for Religious enthusiastically telling people everywhere about their good fortune (Mk 1:45; 5:20; 7:36). This would have been conversation, involving relatively few people here and there--particularly impressive ahd contagious conversation, to be sure, but conversation nonetheless. Does the same sense hold when kerussein is used to denote the proclaiming activity of Jesus?13 Does kerussein have the same connotation of conversation here too? It does, for the following reason. Jesus himself presents his characteristic way of mission in terms of eating and drinking, while contrasting himself with his predecessor (Mt 11:19). In so doing he does not simply distinguish his way as the path of enjoyment or pleasure as opposed to the other's ascetical approach; but rather reveals himself in his mission as one who welcomes and enjoys and also extends fellowship with people, not of a class, but of all classes, brushing aside all prevalent social and religious taboos. So as he honors meal invitations--whether from Pharisees like Simon, tax collectors like Levi, friends like Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, or the hosts of wedding celebrations as at Cana, he in ~rn welcomes and plays host not only to his disciples but also--something that escapes people's attention--to public sinners and to social outcasts like the poor, the crippled, and the blind. If table companionship, being a guest or a kind of host, is characteristic of his ministry, it is not, as the Pharisees judge, by way of being a glutton and a drunkard, but of doing what goes with moderate eating and drinking, that is, having a conversation. C.S. Lewis remark, "The table is from time immemorial the place for talk." 14 This was particularly the case at feasts or parties that Jesus went to, with people reclining at table and engaging in prolonged conversation, valuing it more than food and drink.Is And, if a rabbi like Jesus is the chief guest, he has an excellent opportunity to cast his pearls26 Jesus makes use of such occasions to meet and converse with people at leisure and at length about what they miss and long for in life.17 When Jesus sends his disciples on their mission, he wants them to do no more than what they have seen him doing (Mk 3:14; 6:12). He bids them stay in the houses where they are welcome, in accordance with the sacred duty of hospitality in the East; there, during mealtime and at other times, they are sure to find Is there much in common between proclaiming and conversing? November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission opportunities for spiritual conversation. No matter how variously mission was carried on in the early church, kerussein in the sense explained above was surely part of the picture. It is interesting and revealing that, like his Master, Peter was accused of eating with those outside his Jewish fold. He was doing what he had seen Jesus doing, namely, conversing with those at table, sharing with them the word of God, and bringing them graces of the kingdom of Abba-God. And Paul too, despite the popular impression of him as addressing small and large crowds, no doubt employed the conversational mode of mission, especially towards the end during his two years of semicaptivity at Rome, as Luke's use of the word kerussein at the conclusion of Acts seems to suggest. The Practice of Unobtrusive Missioners The conversational mission, as traced above, is not something apart from life, but is very much part of it. One may find this confirmed in St. Paul's general exhortation: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom" (Col 3:16). Though Ignatius specialized in the art of the conversational word and trained his Jesuit companions in it, one should not consider it something only for initiates.~s There can be no doubt that ordinary Christians in all times and climes have, like Ignatius in the first flush of his conversion, taken spontaneously to the conversational mission, and with tangible results. Their names have not come down to us, but they are in the company of the little Hebrew servant girl whose brief remark led Naaman the Syrian to find the true, unseen God (2 K 5:1-19). Describing the (Protestant Christian) mission that flourished in the mid 19th century among the Telugus in Andhra, South India, Rajaiah D. Paul can say: "From the very beginning of the movement., the work of evangelization was carried on by the infant native church itself, commencing with one individual and then extending, by natural and inevitable growth, like that of a living tree . The people followed much their own impulses . The quiet conversation when visiting friends and relations, the zealous defense of the truth when Christianity was assailed by others, the simple enunciation of belief when a reason for the hope that is in them was demanded; these, accompanied by a life consistent with the demands of the new religion, were what Review for Religious produced fruit in fresh accessions to Christianity." ~9 Reflecting on such experience of mission, which is perhaps more common than many suspect, one may discern an interplay of Christian fecundity and mission. The word fecundity, incidentally, may not be in common parlance now; but, as Henri Nouwen said, "it is a word worth reclaiming, for it can put us in touch with our deepest human potential to bring forth life"2° even in the ordinary circumstances of life. He tells a story of a bereaved South American mother. After celebrating Mass in memory of her young son killed in a tragic accident, he tried to condole with her. Caught up, however, with his own sorrow for her, he was not looking at her and not listening to her invitation to come home and have a meal with the family. Sensing this, the woman went closer to him and spoke to him gently, looking into his eyes: "Don't be so depressed, Father. Don't you know that God loves our Antonio, that God gave him to us for a few years and now wants to bring him to heaven? We are grateful that he was with us and we are grateful too that he can now be with God forever. We are grateful to you also. God loves us all and cares for us all.''21 One of the most dramatic and recent exponents of spiritual conversation is the North American woman named Peace Pilgrim. The Wise Choice of Celebrated Missioners Besides these anonymous but locally fecund missioners, there are celebrities in the international scene, like Frank Buchman (1879-1961), who made the most of spiritual conversation. For instance, along with swaying groups and governments by his moral authority as founder of the then quite active movement called Moral Re-Armament, Buchman also converted and gave life to all sorts of religious or secular-minded people by his individual conversations and dealings with them, and he inspired them to do likewise. A story is told of his stay at a hotel in Milan a few months before he died: "There were three barmen at the hotel. Frank Buchman did not buy drink from them. He went into their bar and gave them the bread of life. They and their families all found November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission something new from their friendship with him. One of then said of him, 'Dr. Buchman is different from most of the people I see. We have cleaned things up here since he came. Most of the leaders of Italy come to this bar sooner or later. The Foreign Minister was here the other day. He was so interested in what we told him about Buchman that he almost forgot his drink.'''22 One of the most dramatic and recent exponents of spiritual conversation is the North American woman named Peace Pilgrim (1908-1981). Not a Christian, she described herself as a religions woman with a vision of peace for the world. Keeping to her self-chosen double-barreled name, she committed herself to walking prayerfully as a pilgrim among people, eager to meet them and talk to them about the chances for peace. For this purpose she sported a short tunic with "Peace Pilgrim" in front and "25,000 Miles on Foot for Peace" on the back; she succeeded in drawing people into engaging conversations on the possibilities of peace in the modern world. To her pleasant surprise, she found the general response positive, with either a lively curiosity or a genuine interest in peace efforts. Her humble mission, basically human and Christian, touched people's hearts and even became a media phenomenon. This is how she recalls its beginning: "The birthplace of the pilgrimage was at the Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena, California. I walked ahead along the line of the march, talking to people and handing out peace messages, and noticing that the holiday spirit did not lessen the genuine interest in peace. When I had gone about halfway, a policeman put his hand on my shoulder and I thought he was going to tell me to get off the line of the march. Instead he said, 'What we need is thousands like you.'''23 Her personal encounters soon became media events spreading her message of peace. What began fruitfully on 1 January 1953 continued with greater and greater effectiveness till her death in 1981 during her seventh talking pilgrimage. The Like Choice in India Ignatius, too, began his mission as an obscure pilgrim on the move. Thinking, as an Indian, of the pilgrim Ignatius and others before and after him in the Christian world, I cannot but admire the sureness of their spiritual instinct, which many Indians have as well. India, too, is an ancient land of pilgrims going on regular Review for Religious pilgrimages, besides, of course, the lifelong pilgrims who keep moving across the length and breadth of the country or stay put in a monastery (math) or in a forest area. It is pleasant to recall that, as Peace Pilgrim was exercising her newfound permanent mission in the American world, two (Catholic) Christians--Joseph Thambi in Andhra Pradesh and Peter Reddy (a convert from Hinduism through Lutheranism) ir~ Tamil Nadu--were living in India a life much like that of the sannyasis, going about and sharing their spiritual pleasure and treasure with others who came their way. Even before them Sadhu Sunder Singh of Punjab, a Sikh-turned-(Anglican) Christian, had blazed a sannyasi kind of mission trail as early as 1908.24 Part of "Vie Voyag~re" However unusual and surprising their vocation may have been, the personalities mentioned above knew how to exercise their mission in ways not only unusual but most ordinary. They used the ordinary human capacity of conversation to excite and evoke spiritual awareness in people. Such spiritual talk, being part of normal sofiial intercourse, can and ought to thrive among Christians anywhere; all they need is a good measure of the Christian spirit of people on pilgrimage (Heb 3:12-4:11; 11:8-16). This was the sure but unforeseen way by which even the risen Jesus, making his return pilgrimage to his Abba-Father, reached out to his lost or fallen disciples and sent them on their new mission. Who has not enjoyed the narratives of his accosting them, drawing them to speak to him from their heart, and then with inspiriting w~rds arousing their drooping spirits for mission? It is up to us, partners in a holy heavenly calling, to keep our eyes on Jesus and, thus encouraged, to encourage one another day after day on our mission journey, a journey at once inward and heavenward (Heb 3:1, 13). Such was characteristically the vie voyagkre or missionary life of Mary, too, whom Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620-1700), the foundress of the Congregation de Notre-Dame de Montreal, contemplated as the model of conversation with others. After composing my own article, I learned this from Mary Anne Foley's recent article.25 Because of the reported affinity of her spirituality with the lgnatian variety, I suspect that the Sisters of Notre-Dame may well have more to say about Marguerite's conversational mission, adding to what I, have said about Ignatius's. November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission Notes t St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Constitutions of the Society of Jesns, trans. George E. Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 283, no. [648]. 2 See Thomas H. Clancy SJ, The Conversational Word of God (Anand, India: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1978), pp. 59, 63. 3 So Schurhammer, Francis Xavier, Vol. 1, as in Clancy, The Conversational Word of God, p. 11. ~ See Clancy, Conversational Word, p. 9. 5 William Barclay, The Letters to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1990), p. 127. 6 In an exhortation Jer6nimo Nadal shares what he has learned about this from Ignatius. See Clancy, Conversational Word,~pp. 53-54. 7 St. Ignatius, Constitutions, pp. 277, 332-333, nos. [624d] and [814]. s Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1976), p. 72. 9 See St. Ignatius, Constitutions, pp. 113,283, nos. [115] and [650]. l0 See Clancy, Conversational Word, pp. 53, 65. I I See Clancy, Conversational Word, pp. 20-21. 12 St. Ignatius, Constitutions, p. 113, no. [115]. ~3 See Lucien Legrand, Mission in the Bible (Pune, India: Ishvani Publication, 1992), p. 60. ~4 C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves (Glasgow: Collins Fount Paperbacks, 1977), p. 91. t5 See Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (London: Darton, LongTnan, and Todd, 1977), p. 38. t6 See William Barclay, The Gospel of Luke (Bangalore, India: Theological Publications in India, 1975), p. 94. ~7 The objection that Jesus' table talk does not qualify to be kerussein since it lacks the usual fanfare of publicity of the kerux or royal herald can be met by remarking that Jesus, being the herald of the compassionate God, does not carry himself like the heralds of proud earthly rulers. 's See William Barclay, The Letters to Pbilippians. Colossians, and Thessalonians (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1975), p. 126. ~9 Cecil Hargreaves, Asian Christian Thinking (Delhi: ISPCK, 1979), p. 97. 20 Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the House of the Lord (London: Darton, Longrnan, and Todd, 1986), p. 33. 2~ Nouwen, House, p. 49. 22 Peter Howard, Frank Buchman's Secret (Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1962), p. 2. Review for Religious 23 Peace Pilgrim, compiled by some of her friends (Santa Fe, New Mexico: Ocean Tree Books, 1994), p. 27. 24 See P.A. Augustine, "On a Pilgrimage to Rampur," Vidyajyoti Journal, March 2001, pp. 205-213. ~s See Mary Anne Foley CND, "Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and the Ignatian Tradition," Review for Religious 60, no. 1 (lanuary-February 2001): 53-57. Straggler Because he was youngest, his gift ranked least among the others, last of the lambing. But somewhere between the start of his journey and its final stretch he'd lost the creature, himself lost as well. Then he followed the star, as told, so stumbled upon the stable by accident, or design, call it what you will. Afraid, empty-handed, embarrassed, yet drawn to the manger, he knelt, close as a whisper. "I lost my gift." The Babe's mother, softly, "No, child, yours is best of all." Leonard Cochran OP November-December 2001 MARIE BEHA On the Seventh Day God Rested spiritual directions Maybe God rested (Gn 2:3), but we cannot. God could afford to rest; after all, creation was finished and "it was very good," but we rarely experience the luxury of seeing our work completed or of feeling satisfied with it. So we find Sabbath observance hard, whether it is the day of rest at the end of our work week or those mini- Sabbaths that occur naturally in our lives. Our tendency to fill all these times makes them anything but restful, even though it seems that resting should be at the heart of Sabbath observance, our own as well as God's. Sabbath Fillers Mmost any "thing" will do to fill up Sabbath time and minimize rest: work left over from the previous week, or getting ahead on the week to come. Fun and games can keep us busy. "Good works," everything from returning phone calls (or catching up with email, as though that were possible) to a frantic round of visiting sick relatives or neighbors, fill in the hours. Even an overload of required worship can make Sabbath more a burden than a rest. Marie Beha OSC writes from the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Revie'w for Religious So, you ask, what is a person to do? The problem with all of the above is not with the what but with the why and bow of our doing. The need for accomplishment that motivates us is revealed in the satisfied but weary sigh that accompanies our Sunday evening summation: "I really got a lot done this weekend" or the equally tired but dissatisfied confession "My to-do list is as long as ever." Why are we so driven to do? Too often we fill our days, including our Sundays, to fill ourselves. No wonder there are never enough hours in the week. "Resting" risks having to face the reveal-ing silence, the emptiness inside. So we hurry on, stuffing every day, including the Sabbath, with self-satisfying work. Even our worship can be performance oriented. What does "We had such a good liturgy this morning!" really mean? Are our criteria the spirited music, the well-delivered homily, and the smooth flow of the service--or being moved to heartfelt prayer and challenged to genuine interior conversion? Hopefully, the music and the homily prepare the way for "worship in spirit and truth" On 4:24), but they may simply leave us entertained and content. Worship can become crowded as though more equals better. When that is the case, we can hardly expect to "rest secure" (Ps 16:9). Nor can we if haste to have it finished clocks our obser-vance. Shortening periods of silence in order to get through our quota of prayers is anything but worshipful. The pace of our performance, in liturgy or elsewhere, may also keep us "worried and distracted by many things" (Lk 10:41). We are still meeting deadlines, even when being together is itself the goal. Family time has to be scheduled with the precision of airport takeoffs and land-ings, surface activity substituting for person.al relationships. Though we are together, we do not allow ourselves opportunity to really enjoy each other, much less become intimate. Scheduling every moment, hurrying through one activity to begin the next before the first is really completed, all adds up to workday pressure. Though we are weary, it seems we cannot stop or slow down. Our attempts at relaxation only add more stress. Even our sleeping late is restless. So we come to the end of our Sabbath lacking any sense of re-creation. The motivation for such crowding and overscheduling of even leisure time has a lot to do with our self-image, Which stems from our deeply felt need to see ourselves as creative achievers. God has no such need and so can rest, and asks us to begin to do the same. November-December 2001 Beha ¯ On the Seventh Day God Rested Becoming a Sabbath People But you say, "I know all this, know it too well. What I don't understand is howto keep the Sabbath holy" (Dr 5:12). Rather than insisting on utterly severe limitations of activity on the Sabbath, as some Pharisees in the Gospels seem to have done, our recent Catechism (§2185) says nothing about "servile work"; it simply says we should "refrain from . . . work or activities that hinder the worship owed to God, the joy proper to the Lord's Day, the performance of the works of mercy, and the appropriate relax-ation of mind and body." Especially for the many of us who do almost no manual (or "servile") work on weekdays, spading in the garden may be a wonderful thing to do on Sundays. Churchgoing is not supposed to be the only activity that makes the seventh day special, though some neglect even this. For those who do partic-ipate in Sunday worship, however, it may become just one more item packed into a hectic weekend schedule. After it, we may feel permitted to spend the remainder of the day on ourselves--and then squander it on hecticness that neither praises God nor refreshes us. And that is precisely the problem with much of our Sabbath observance. This is God's day. Like God, we are to work most days at cre-ating this world, making a garden of it, if you will. But also, like God, we are to rest from our labor one day and so gain something of the divine perspective. Work is meant to predominate since this is the way our world takes form and shape--and we ourselves are likewise formed by that very shaping. Through work we become what we are meant to be: responsible cocreators of this beautiful world of ours. Made from this earth, we are called to care for it, to be nourished by it, and in the end to return to it. But there is more to our human vocation than this. Though made from the earth, of the earth, we are ultimately from and for God. Sabbath observance rhythmically registers this reality of human existence in our lives. Between this week's labor and the next, we stop and look up. Like God, we rest. Although our Sabbath observance is brief and limited, it is there to prevent our being worn down by the activity needed to work out our salvation. Sabbath prepares us for an eternal rest when our work will be complete and our being-with-God just begun. The original commandment, "Keep holy the Sabbath," is the third commandment, after those forbidding worship of false gods and taking God's name in vain, All three put us in the context of Review for Religious God's original covenant with his chosen people. Observing these commandments is our covenantal response. More than moral law, the Sabbath describes a relationship. Since we are God's people, we need to be holy as God is holy, working and resting as God does. Observing the Sabbath forms us into the divine image, helping us realize our identity as individuals and as a people. Why did God rest on the seventh day? To enjoy the goodness of that wondrous creation. We do the same. Enjoyment, part of our human capacity for contemplation, moves us beyond the every-day criteria of use and usefulness. All too often, when we experience something new, our question "What's this?" is followed at once by "What's it good for?" Sabbath offers us a respite from such a utilitarian viewpoint; it gives us an opportunity to affirm reality as good in itself. We receive it as a divine gift, even before we discover whether if fits into our schema of things. We appreciate its beauty, even if it is not to our taste. We accept its truth without need to compre-hend, much less control, its mystery. Besides deepening our capacity for appreciation, Sabbath leisure forms us into a free people. Originally a way for the Jewish people to celebrate their liberation from Egypt's oppres-sion, it can open us to similar possibilities. We are not meant to be slave laborers, nor to enslave others to relentless productivity. Stepping back from what we do six days a week enables us to see where we are oppressed, where we may be oppressors. In the leisure that this seventh day provides, we are free to ask ourselves what we would like to do if we had the time. What would re-create us? No matter if our answers would require more demanding activity than our everyday work; perhaps that is what we would find renewing. After being tied all week to a desk, we may really enjoy discovering and using our bodies at least one day a week. Professionals may relax in an activity that allows them the leisure to be rank amateurs, while people whose everyday is dull or dreary discover their potential as "professional" chefs or musicians. Seeing each other in more creative ways keeps us open to the surprises that lie untapped in the hearts of us all. Someone who lacks both time and talent for learning to play music well can still More than moral law, the Sabbath describes a relationship. November-December 2001 Beha ¯ On the Seventh Day God Re, ted enjoy the creativity of a less-than-professional performance. Attempting portrait painting may not produce a recognizable like-ness, much less something that can be sold, yet it can fill someone's need for self-expression. Sabbath Free Time The Sabbath also provides us with "free time," allowing us to "waste" some of it. For productive Americans the mere phrase "wasting time" sounds vaguely immoral, even though time is a giJ~. We cannot earn even a single additional day of life, nor are we billed for the ones we have received. Sabbath observance opens us to the possibility of"doing nothing." Even a brief period given over to deliberate inactivity can, if nothing else, show us how enslaved we have become to filling time. When not doing some-thing useful, we feel threatened by nonexistence: what are we good for? Doing nothing translates readily into being nothing; that is why it is painful, at least at first. But, with patient practice and a willingness to go below surface unease, we can discover a deepening quiet underneath all our activity. As with a swiftly moving river, there is a silence inside that is full of life and awaits the exploration of our doing nothing. Enjoying what is, being free to do something nonproductive that in fact re-creates us, can be forms of Sabbath worship for us creatures as we learn who we are and why we were made. Personal relationships require a certain spaciousness, and this is true of our friendship with God. On the Sabbath we and God spend time together. Sometimes we talk or argue, sometimes we are simply together in comfortable or uncomfortable silence, but we are together. That is what matters. That is the heart of any obser-vance of the Sabbath. And those observances are multiple. Seventh-day observance is paradigmatic but not exhaustive. We can expand one day to a week of R and R: rest, recuperation, or retreat. Or, and this is more common, we can compress Sabbath-like observances to take advantage of moments of free time that open up in any day or that we build into it. The former include snippets of time we often vainly fret away: when the elevator takes forever to arrive, when the answering machine advises us to "hold" until the "next available operator" responds, or when the receptionist explains that "the doctor is running l~te today." Also, we can choose to sit quietly Review for Religious on the side of our bed when we first awaken, we can stretch quietly during a long morning at the computer, we can take a breath of morning air as we walk to the car. All of these can be pieces of Sabbath rest. They can break into our everydayness, much as seventh days interrupt the steady pace of work weeks. They can refresh us. Or they can be uneasy gaps we hasten to fill with nervous activity. How else explain doodling on telephone pads, tapping our feet, consulting our watch at fifteen-second intervals, or rushing our moments of transition. Using Sabbath Leisure Well Taking advantage of all the Sabbath times in our lives requires creative discipline. One suggestion: that we follow the traffic direc-tive "Be prepared to stop." Be ready to allow the seventh day--and the small intervals that force themselves into our best-planned days-- to evoke in us a willingness to surrender to something, to Someone, beyond our own self-interest. Willingness to set our own interests aside opens us to the more of mystery. The capacity for such transcendence demands life-long discipline, a way of living that includes. Sabbath observance. Preparation for Sunday's resting in the Lord begins when Saturday makes some change in our everyday routine. Though the day itself may well be packed full, it can hold its own refreshment, the peace and joy of taking care of things we had to put off earlier in the week. The danger is that "things to do" can take on a life of their own and invade our Sabbath time. Setting some time limits and then prioritizing what most needs to be done is one way of extending Sabbath observance to the vigil. Another is to include in this day of preparation something we like to do, something we look forward to doing: perhaps a special supper menu, a phone visit with a friend, a more leisurely bath, some quiet time before going to bed. The endless possibilities need only be tailored to our own preference. Fruitful observance of the Sabbath itself, like the great com-mandments of loving God, neighbor, and self, revolves around worship, reaching out to others, and re-creative leisure. As we Wil,tingness to set our own interests aside opens us to the more of mystery. November-December 2001 Beba * On the Seventh Da~ God Rested know only too well, these will not happen unless we are prepared to make them happen. Time for worship is probably the easiest of these to schedule, but we still need careful planning lest we end up in such a rush that we spend most of the service becoming quiet enough to worship. Of course, if some truly unforeseen great need comes into our life, we worship by responding to that need. But on most weekends we can prepare for worship at least as carefully as we would for any other important appointment. If a scheduled meeting with an employer requires some attention to appearance and promptness and some thought preparation, worship of our God surely merits the same. Once the time for communal worship has been determined, the rest of the day can revolve around it. How begin our Sabbath day in such a way as to open our heart more fully to God? A slower start, a long shower, a more leisurely breakfast, not only make this day special but also quiet our restlessness, enabling us to be more present in worship. Getting outside for some early morning exercise can do the same, while some silent reflection may help others to change pace and be ready for prayer. Getting to church in ample time seems a necessity if weekday patterns are to be converted into Sabbath stillness. Letting the drivenness, competition, and workday worry fall away prepares our heads as well as our hearts to "hear the word of the Lord" (Is 1:10). Even an unsuccessful effort to attain inner peace and quiet is a form of worship. We are trying to give God's time back to God. Coming into God's presence along with others reminds us that all our worship is communal. We join with others, not only those with whom we immediately share sacred space this week, but all the people of God gathered for worship, observing their Sabbaths on Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Sons and daughters of God, we are all children of Abraham as well, our core unity greater than our all too apparent diversity. Gathering in a common worship space lets us take these theological realities and translate them into practical charity. What begins with the community of worship can flow out to a much wider world or can be focused on care of a family member or a needy neighbor next door. Because we do this together, our charity becomes expansive and yet not abstract. We are reminded of needs that we ourselves may never have experienced or been exposed to, and we are challenged not to forget the small service Review for Religious that has no glamour and wins no notice. In both cases we are stretched beyond ourselves, an attitude basic to any true worship. A third element in our Sabbath observance is leisure, some rest, an opportunity to be made new in re-creation. Unless given some thought, all our Sabbath time can disappear in the more evi-dent good works of prayer and care for others. But a leisure that renews us is basic to true love of God and of others. Something we really enjoy needs to be included in our Sabbath observance if we are to be faithful to a Creator God who first saw that everything was good and then rested in that joy. So Sabbath observance includes time to just be, to play in the world, to enjoy the good-ness that God has made. Our rest is worshipful because it is filled with the truth that this is God's world wrapped in God's care. Sabbath beyond the Sabbath Other Sabbaths beyond seventh-day observance are three-day weekends, full weeks of retreat, and full sabbaticals every seventh year. Smaller Sabbaths can occur at intervals on ordinary days. All of these can contribute to forming us into people of the Sabbath, people who are free and not slaves to what we do. We are wor-shipers in what we do for God, for others, and even for ourselves. Our day can begin with a personal offering of our day to God along with our getting out of bed. It can end with a night prayer that is part of our stretching out in bed and getting comfortable for sleep. What is important is a habit of praying that, over time, becomes worshipful living. Willingness to expose ourselves to worldwide concerns is part of our everyday Sabbath observance. Ordinary caring for others on ordinary days opens our hearts, making more room for God in our life as we do on our Sundays. Sabbath observance is not a narrowing of our lives. It is a grand and glorious expansion that is an image of eternity. -50! November-December 2001 DONALD MACDONALD Where Your Heart Is Adrug pusher in prison said that he well understood the evil effects of drugs, but if he left prison tomorrow the temptation to go back to drugs would be irresistible. He knew of no other way where so much money could be made so easily. He had neith'er the skills nor the connections to obtain a similar lifestyle any other way. A young merchant seaman on shore leave in his home port said that, each rime he d6cked and met his friends, he noticed that their lifestyles had progressed to levels.he could never hope to reach, no matter how hard he worked. They too dealt in drugs. For these and others, the attraction of a lifestyle for self and family funded by illicit drugs almost overwhelmed the power of reason, community feeling, or the gospel to offer something better. Famine of God's Word Many people growing up in our postmodern climate assume that there is no such thing as objective truth; that, even if there is, it is beyond our reach. There was a time when people assumed that reason ruled, or at least could provide us with a guide to life for the benefit of all. Two world wars later, the cruelty of various civil wars and the unavoidable evidence of global human suffering have shown that confidence in reason alone is misplaced. Even the rocketing progress of technology, with its potential for Donald Macdonald SMM writes again from Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead, Glasgow; G78 1TA Scotland, U.K. Review for Religious good, has a number of self-destruct buttons, one or other of which someone is sure to press. The many forms of the media offer access to much that is good, but may also expose us to what is bad or sadly deficient. Western Christians, for example, are aware that a good many writers and producers of television seem to hold that any reverent mention of God is nonsense, and that it is open season for attack-ing the Catholic Church. There are many occasions for people, especially young people, to be misled or bewildered. If this assess-ment is accurate, that does not mean that people cannot avoid being hypnotized or depressed by it all. There is a blunt alterna-tive in the invitation to accept the challenge to "repent and to believe in the gospel" (Mk 1:15). It is crucial that those blessed with the gift of faith understand this as a viable alternative or, better, that, with the confidence of the early church, they give themselves to it as "The Way." ¯ Otherwise, time and energy will be wasted in a possibly dispirited response to what are judged to be the ills of society. To react forever and not initiate risks clouding Ourselves in perpetual negativity. The seemingly omnipotent secular battalions set the agenda, and Christians hurry to set some defenses up, almost breathless in a sadly polluted atmosphere. "Repent".has a 19th-century ring to it and, on that assump-tion, may be dismissed by those who thoroughly accept contem-porary culture. It is, in fact, a call to change our minds, to turn from being self-centered, to open ourselves to the will and guidance of God. It is a dynamic challenge, not a static ruefulness, and it offers a new perspective on life. It may so take hold of us that we become "a living sacrifice," giving ourselves completely to God in response to the wonder of God giving himself to us in Christ (see Rm 12:1-2). Whether it be "us" or "them," Christian tradition recognizes the seed of sin in everyone. It is not the whole picture, but it has its effect on human behavior. Cardinal Newman found "the being of God [to be] as certain to me as the certainty of my own existence." Regarding the society of his day, he said, "There I see a sight which fills me with unspeakable distress., the defeat of good, the success of evil, physical pain, mental anguish, the preva-lence and intensity of sin, the pervading idolatries, the corrup-tions, the dreary hopeless irreligion . [All of this] inflicts upon the mind the sense of a profound mystery, which is absolutely November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is beyond human solution . Either there is no Creator, or this living society., is in a true sense discarded from his presence." 1 Each category he mentions can be documented today--and perhaps the personal distress, too. Newman famously concluded that, "if there be a God, since there is a God, the human race is implicated in some terrible aboriginal calamity. It is out of joint with the purposes of its Creator.''2 The call to "repent and to believe" is the way out of this morass. "Bad religion" will not do it, and numbers of people have been hurt by it. But before so much hurt and "the dreary hopeless irreligion," with its miasmic presence stunting so much growth, the authentic way of Jesus Christ can guide us. This is the path religious walk on the jour-ney to God. The challenge is as insistent today as it was for the 1st or the 19th century; our century, like earlier ones, needs to hear the Good News. Pope John Paul said recently: "Even in countries evan-gelized many centuries ago, the reality of a 'Christian society' which . . . measured itself explicitly on gospel values is now gone. Today we must courageously face a situation which is becoming increasingly diversified and demanding" (§40).3 The church und.erstandably tries to come to terms with chang-ing structures in the contemporary world. Religious are often sad-dled with plant and too few personnel. Time and energy go into dismantling the structures, with pain to people and religious who have grown up seeing them as part of themselves. For many, this appears a sunset with nothing but darkness ahead to bury a once lively hope. But what if it indicates sunrise and the possibility of a graced opportunity to walk in newness of life, alive to God in Christ Jesus? Approach the Word To be open to thatl "we must rekindle in ourselves the impetus of the beginnings and allow ourselves to be filled with the ardor of the apostolic preaching" (§40). The zeal forming the church in the beginning came from the experienced presence of the Spirit of our risen Loi-d. To view the contemporary from within that perspective is to find ourselves with Someone who faced all that life could do to him, including crucifixion in his mother's presence, and who is alive with us today. Faced by contemporary relativism in a consequently fragmented society, Christians and Review for Religious especially religious would have so much more to offer, and so much more for themselves to believe in, if they realized that "holiness, a message that convinces without need for words, is the living reflection of the face of Christ" (§7). Familiarity with the authen-tic Jesus allows us to reflect him almost intuitively, as our faith is rekindled by who we see in the Gospel. It may then be impossible not to want to share what we have seen and heard. A glance at the Lukan Jerusalem journey (Lk 9:51-19:28) may help us glimpse something of the world of the early church, where the odds against Christians con-tin- uing to exist and influence society were immeasurably greater than anything we face. St. Luke's account begins with a thrice-repeated warning to consider where accompa-nying Jesus may lead, since "[Jesus] set his face to go to Jerusalem" and Samaritan villagers refused him hospitality "because his face was set toward Jerusalem" (9:51, 53). This is serious, not a day trip to the beach. The ostensibly encouraging "I will follow you wherever you go" (9:57) was not met with open arms by Jesus, but by a sharp warning to the individual to examine every syllable and consider what he meant. Does he really intend to volunteer for the same insecurity as his Leader, "the Son of Man [with] nowhere to lay his head" (9:58)? To come with Jesus may mean finding himself left like a leaf in a gutter--does he really want that? Another was bluntly told that commitment to Jesus comes before all family obligations: "Let the dead bury their own dead. ¯ . . You go and proclaim the kingdom of God" (9:60). Another would-be follower said he Would come, "but let me first say farewell to those at my home" (9:61). Jesus would leave by the time he came back, he was told; come now or not at all. The call is for mature persons who, once they have put hand to the 'plow, never look back. The humane pastoral concern of the Lukan Gospel is evident here in view of what happened at journey's end. No doubt this pattern was repeated time and again in the early years of the church. St. Luke's experience led him to believe that, while attrac-tion to Jesus is wonderful, it must include a realistic appraisal of what this means. We need to face ourselves as we face Christ; we Fami!iarity with the authentic Jesus allows us to reflect him almost intuitively. November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is must engage in true discernment. If Jesus himself "set his face," steeling himself to stay at one with his Father's will, would-be fol- ¯ lowers can do no less on the journey, unless they come as specta-tors and not companions. Fidelity to God's will as the guide to life is a daily and life-long challenge: "I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following, for it cannot be that a prophet should perish outside Jerusalem" (13:33). Jesus had to face his greatest challenge, one that would cost him his life. He did so after thoughtful reflec-tion, not as a witless victim. In the light of experience, he honestly asks no less of us. Later on the journey, at a time when "large crowds were traveling with him" (14:25), the message is reinforced as Jesus asks them why they are there: "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father arid mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple" (14:25-26). Even while noting that Hebrew has no word for prefer, we get the point. Every natural and rational tie must take second place to the gift of myself to Christ. This is not meant to put people off. It asks us to consider seriously what we undertake if we accompany Jesus. We will always have Jesus, but perhaps at the cost of losing much else and, as it may appear, Jesus as we would want him to be. How much are we prepared to pay for that? We are asked to really consider this as we look to give ourselves to the gospel challenge. Our attraction to Jesus has to be constant and compelling if we are to genuinely repent and believe in him. Realistic Lukan pastoral care has Jesus ask yet again for mature thought about what it means to accompany him through life: "Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise . . . not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him" (14:28-29). A second parable suggests pondering the consequences of going to war with ten thousand against an oppo-nent who has twenty thousand (14:3 i). This reflects the almost unbearable concern of Jesus and the evangelist, who have journeyed together and know the implica-tions of accepting the invitation to come with them. The verses . immediately before and after these challenging parables tell us why: "whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple . . . so, therefore, none of you can be my Review for Religious disciple if you do not give up all your possessions" (14:27, 33). The rest is surely silence, with mature prayer, reflection, and advice to help us see where we go from here.4 The Power of the Word Bearing one's cross is both a superb challenge and practical advice in view of the implications of accompanying Jesus. Even at first reading, we pick up the implied heroism, the need for great courage and strength. Yet, on gospel evidence, Jesus' closest disciples display a humanity that we can recognize in ourselves. There is, then, something attainable here. We should not put the challenge on the shelf as an impossible ideal. There is never a suggestion that it is a mistake to accompany Jesus. There must be something superlatively attractive in the per-son of Jesus that enables his disciples to hear such a challenge and actually take it up. The desire to understand how that enablement works is reason for opening our-selves to God's Word in Scripture. This is what was done at the beginning of monastic and reli-gious life. The desert fathers and mothers wanted to know from experience what it meant to leave all for Jesus, to accept the Sermon on the Mount's challenge to live without cares in the freedom promised by the gospel. Scripture helped them make the attempt and persevere. They and their contemporaries saw how Scripture's power could form them into people who have nothing as the world would understand it, yet were themselves rich in the currency of the gospel and able to make others similarly rich. They were truly influential people. The gospel, finding lodging in individual hearts, made for intimacy with God and love for others. As subsequent centuries learned, time given to Scripture, and to the Spirit of our risen Lord found therein, can make abounding love for others available to us too. Disciplined daily reading--allowing the words to register with us, and gently persuading us that we are hearing them for the first time--can transfigure us too. We need such transfiguring to approach a Lukan conclusion: "So, therefore, whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple" (14:33). Jesus" closest disciples display a humanity that we can recognize in ourselves. November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ [~here Your Heart Is Nearer our time, that challenge was taken up by Charles de Foucauld, and his life is yet another proof of the transforming power of the word. He took the challenge of the Jerusalem jour-ney to heart. A religious, photocopying his "self-offering," offered me copies to send to friends. The gothic lettering was beautiful, but as I read it I wondered whether I had the courage to keep a copy beside me, much less send one to others. It reads in part: "Father, I abandon myself into your hands. Do with me what-you will. Whatever you may do, I thank you. I am ready for all. I accept all. Let only your will be done in me and in all your creatures. I wish no more than this, O Lord. to surrender myself into your hands without reserve, and with confidence beyond all question-ing, because you are my Father." Here are the terms of acceptance for accompanying Jesus on the journey through life. To invoke the prayer and patronage of such a man in Christ and, if I dare, to keep his self-dedication where I can see it--these things can help me join others on the Jerusalem journey. They can lead me to the sources that fed him. They are necessary in a world where so much competes for my self. Jesus on the Jerusalem journey points out that the heart may not be left empty. Even when all that is evil is forced from the heart, evil may return with immense power and bring "seven other spirits more evil than itself.and the last state of that person is worse thanthe first" (11:26). The evangelists, ~e fathers, Charles de Foucauld, and others can only encourage us to open our hearts to the power that made them mirrors of the gospel. With this shared enthusiasm for God in Christ continually fed by what we see in them, we in turn become faithful members of the company of Jesus. This is not for everyone, but it may be for us. Among the obstacles to accompanying Jesus as sketched in the Jerusalem journey is the risk of having a divided heart. Pressure to back away, to be close but not too close to Jesus, is always .there in one form or another. While it helps to steep ourselves in the gospel and invite the influence of those who clearly live for God alone in Christ, we must also try to live simply and so nourish detachment from everything but God's will. The less clutter around us, the freer are we to give ourselves to what w~ are asked. Often, tO want something is to get it. We get into a car, pick up a phone, write a check, press a key, or ask for it--and presently we have it. This is not true for vast tracts of the world, but it is true for much of it; and, given the chance, most people on every con- Review for Religious tinent seem to want to live like that. Religious professedly "poor in fact and spirit" share that same humanity. Because of this human tendency to acquire, they need constant vigilance, personal disci-pline, and continually renewed motivation in order to accompany Jesus on his gospel journey. Our circumstances need to reflect the authentic gospel challenge. Otherwise, despite our intent the cri-teria offered by the Lukan Jerusalem journey will seem an impos-sible ideal--the sort of ideal someone had in mind when saying archly that, with the Ten Commandments, "as in any examina-tion, only five need be attempted." Without the insight of faith, our postmodern environmental circumstances are likely to keep sug-gesting a "more reasonable" way of life, and we are likely to accept it unthinkingly. The chapel of a religious community, open on Sunday for Mass to a hundred or so people, presented a stark picture during Lent. The crucifix and statues were covered. A large swathe of purple material across the front of the altar ended in a symbolically overturned chalice. The lecterns from where Scripture was read and the gospel preached were engulfed in purple. The branches of a leafless tree reached up and out from its purpled-wrapped trunk. To the visitor it said that for this community Lent really meant something. Something has happened here. For the people wor-shiping here on Sunday, if the words spoken were at one with the setting, they could scarcely be less than disturbing. If, however, the religious community's life were at one with those words and those symbols, people attending would receive sufficient support and encouragement. The chapel inside the house, however, where the community prayed and worshiped with a few people during the week, was rather differe.nt. There was no suggestion of purple, aridity, or stark challenge in the folksy, chatty chapel. It was, in a word, domestic. There was no provision, no place, for a moment of pri-vacy in which individuals might face themselves before God; the chairs around the orange carpet formed a square with the altar, and people spoke and laughed easily across the space. A visitor asked how the community could issue so sharp a statement to people coming on Sunday from the pressures of their postmodern environment, and yet offer so little challenge in the chapel where they themselves were at home. They may have spent the night in prayer, dined on bread and water, and been selfless in serving the poor, but the climate they chose for themselves for November-December 2001 Macdonald * Where Your Heart Is addressed and told to consider whether we can leave everything, even life itself, to accompany Jesus. worship and prayer did not suggest that. The Sunday chapel may have been a liturgical or catechetical visual-aid for others; but, if they were to accompany their Lord to Jerusalem's summit, much more than a public gesture was necessary. It might be a good idea to have a framed copy of Charles de Foucauld's "dedication" in both chapels, but, for us and others to glimpse the simplicity of what he saw, we need to recognize that environment and appro-priate symbols matter, that we must make special efforts to free ourselves from many assumptions of contemporary society. Unless we do this, an easy acceptance of what we see around us in matters of lifestyle, furnishings, and aspirations will inevitably lead us into a certain secularity. Earlier history and the evidence of the last thirty years surely make that point incontrovertible. There can be no objective and globally acceptable standard here, but, for people who think of accepting the blunt challenge of the Jerusalem journey, surroundings do matter. One by one we are addressed and told to consider whether we can leave every-thing, even life itself, to accompany OFle by oFle we are Jesus. As ever, the situation is made plain in the Lukan approach: "Go on your way. I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no. purse, no bag, no sandals, and greet no one on the road. What-ever house you enter, first say, 'Peace to this house'" (10:3-5). Our sole security lies in being with Jesus, but, for such security to be ours, we must leave much else on which people around us reasonably rely. To behave differently we must see other than they do. In our dedication to the gospel, we scarcely have time for normal civilities, and yet we frequently offer the gift of peace and expect our words to have effect. We must accompany our risen Lord closely to function like that. Even if we sometimes see bringing some peace as a short-term mission, the effort may still be a weighty burden, and one that is clearly related to the rest of the Jerusalem journey. If our following of Jesus occurs in "the real world" (where being a lamb among wolves argues no future and scarcely any pre-sent), temptations to go through a gap in the hedge for a respite from the effort of keeping close to Jesus will inevitably occur. Lukan pastoral care admits as much: "Whoever denies me before others will be denied before the angels of God" (12:8-9). On arriv-ing in Jerusalem, the disciples collapsed under the pressure and did deny Jesus. In a postmodern world, we too are frail human beings, and the pressure to distance ourselves from him, not least by a more "reasonable" lifestyle, will always be there. To prevent this, we need to know where our real wealth is. "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (12:34). Jesus' answer to the rich young man's question, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" left him sad, "for he had great possessions" (18:18, 22) and his heart was not as close to Jesus as he had sup-posed. "Jesus looking at him said, 'How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God. For it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle" (18:24-25). Money and the power it brings opens most doors here on earth, but Jesus makes it unmistakably plain that it cannot buy anyone's way into his company. But for the grace of God, it would perhaps be an insuperable obstacle. Delight in the Word Inviting and challenging, Jesus looks at us too. He wants our company so much that he has risen from a grave to enable us to enter into his kingdom. There is a personal.relationship here. Intimacy with God and living at one with God's will, these are what living life to the full means. Here is human purpose, and our purpose. "Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, 'I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants . All things have been handed over to me by my .Father" (10:21-22). These words are spoken after the disciples' excited return from venturing out among the people supported only by trust in Jesus' word. Now they know from experience something of the possibilities and power of his message. Many others who seem better placed than they to understand do not know what the disciples know. Jesus is ecstatic. "Thrilled with joy in the Holy Spirit," he looks in wonder at these "infants" who were coming to know him and his Father. On our journey you and I ake in the company of our risen Lord; we. are not isolated strangers at a bus stop waiting for something to turn up. We should be full of wonder at who we are November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is and what we have in Christ, and never take our identity primarily from people lacking the insight of faith. In Christ, who has "given you authority., over all the power of the enemy, and nothing will hurt you" (10:19), Satanic power can be successfully challenged. "Then, turning to the disciples, Jesus said to them privately, 'Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! . . . many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it'" (10:2,3-24). Like John the Baptist, these people, for all their insight, could only prepare for or point to what the disciples were enjoying from within the company of Jesus. To those outside that company, his parables and teaching might be helpful stories to take or leave; but, for the "infants" around Jesus; these words reached both mind and heart and helped form their consciences as guides to life. There is much more for us to see if we "infants" develop genuine receptivity to and then realization of the gift of God in the risen Christ. Insofar as the wonder of that gift is ours, we will have the "stick-to-itive-ness," courage, and conviction to share .it with others on the jour-ney. We know that We are treasured by our risen Lord, and so we come to treasure him. He is where our heart is! For perhaps significant numbers of religious and would-be religious, it is asking too much to make more that a notional con-nection between words then and work now. The biblical word is respected, but even in generally literate societies words do not always communicate in depth, often because there are just too many of them to hold our attention. Yet, to this day in the his-tory of the church and consecrated life, Scripture has had an intrin-sic power which people have felt and which has energized for God some of the greatest evangelical witnesses. A contemporary vade mecum of consecrated life--P~'ta conse-crata-- points to Scripture as "the first source of all Christian spir-ituality." There is undoubtedly a wider awareness of this in recent .decades, but we may have some way to go before all of us have the view that "the primacy of holiness and prayer is inconceivable without a renewed listening to the word of God, . . . a life-giving encounter., which draws from the biblical text the living word which questions, directs, and shapes our lives" (§39). Only some-one like the Holy Father, speaking from experience of that back-ground and also very aware of the contemporary challenge to the gospel, could be convinced that, while "we do not know what the new millennium has in store for us,., we are certain that it is safe Revie't.v for Religious in the hands of Christ." (§35). The Lukan Jerusalem journey, approached from within that mindset, would produce a like conviction. Pope John Paul saw the pilgrims in Rome for Jubilee 2000 as representative of so many others, each individual reflecting "the story of someone whom Christ had met, and who in dialogue with him was setting out again on a journey of hope" (§8). As an older brother, perhaps, on the journey, he has learned from experience that, "if Christ is presented to young people as he really is, they experience him as an answer that is convincing and they can accept his message, even when it is demanding and bears the mark of the cross" (§9). This is why he does not hesitate to challenge and call on them "to make a radical choice of faith and life., a stupen-dous task; to become 'morning watchmen' (Is 21:11-12) at the dawn of the new millennium" (§9). Consecrated people, glimpsing Christ "as he really is" from the Gospel pages, might feel called to respond to that same challenge as they journey together, eager to share their delight in their risen Lord. "Remaining firmly anchored in Scripture, we open ourselves to the action of the Spirit" (§17), and who can say where that may lead us? Notes t John Henry Newman, Apologia pro Vita Sua (Longmans Green, 1890), p. 241. 2 Newman, Apologia, p. 242. 3 John Paul II, Apostolic Letter, Novo Millennio Ineunte, Rome, 6 January 2001. Numbers here and subsequently refer to paragraphs. 4 Walter J. Ciszek sJ, He Leadeth Me, repays rereading for an appre-ciation of faith today. through/be ~do~n! ~nd Cbri~tmo~ t~ b/~6~ing~ of ~oat'~ ~nt~dng into $ia creation in November-December 2001 church and MARIE BRINKMAN Criteria for Change: Women's Ministering to the Body of Christ ministry To search in the past for signs of a viable future for reli-gious women's communities is to reverse the usual order of things, but that is what I intend. I offer a rationale for searching there. I seek, however, not criteria for esti-mating outcomes of change, but rather the foundation made up of sisters' lives which itself takes the measure of other criteria and thus provides the framework for wise discernment. The dawn of a new millennium suggests radical change, much of it underway, yet brings from some quarters hints of probable demise. We know that, for the authors of the many articles and books on the present situation of religious men and women, the good of God's people is the primary concern. And we well know that, if religious communities are to survive, they will do so in response to that people's need and in fidelity to the gospel, particularly its radical counsels. These are any century's religious foundations and the basis for all reform and renewal. But, in the life of religious communities of women, what in particular urges their Marie Brinkman SCL presented this paper at the History of Women Religious Conference at Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in June 2001. She is a professor at Saint Mary College; 4100 South Fourth Street; Leavenworth, Kansas 6604-8. Review for Religious continuance? What characteristics should serve as norms for appropriate change, in the face of diminishing numbers, advancing median ages, and increasing opportunities for minis-tering to God's people in lay and secular life? In her hopeful assessment of a third-millennial future for women religious, Jo Ann Kay McNamara observes that sisters from the "young" African and Asian churches "are already in the process of changing their worlds as their foremothers in the West did for so many centuries." And she foresees "a larger global sisterhood" in which religious women of the West will revise their institutions and women of all cultures will devise new forms of rule, commu-nity, and ministry (pp. 643-644). Ways of envisioning and shaping such inevitabilities are what we must seek. In this regard Joel Giallanza csc asserts that "the quality and integrity of religious life as a sign of unity in the church for the future is direcdy related to the quality and integrity which religious life embodies today" (pp. 468-469). That quality and integrity must inform any criteria for discerning constructive change in community and ministry. When communities, particularly apostolic ones, revisit their charism (as Vatican documents on religious life have urged) and when they engage laypersons as associates (communal or profes-sional) in the realization of that charism, even in these charted waters they run risks described by Francis W. Danella OSFS. While believing that "efforts to recapture the spirit of the foundation have been the singularly most hopeful development in religious life since the council" (p. 266), Danella cites a major risk, that of failure to integrate individual needs and community priorities, personal growth and the common good. We might well add that it is a risk rooted in human nature that has become greater in the last three decades. It takes subtle forms that only habitual and rigorous spiritual discernment at every level of decision making and leadership can recognize. Mary Anne Foley CND, in her careful critique of two widely read works of the past decade, Ann Carey's Sisters in Crisis and Quifionez and Turner's Transformation of ,4merican Catholic Sisters, asks for continuing dialogue between the polarized constituencies studied by these authors (pp. 342-357). She acknowledges serious inadequacies attending the documentation of their views, but is convinced that nonetheless the Spirit speaks to us through one another, within our diverse limitations. Her most significant obser- November-December 2001 Brinkman ¯ Criteria for Chan~e The fundamental question before us, I think, is whether personal relationship to God, in its rhythm of continuing call and free response, has taken directions in the lives of religious women so concrete as to be guidelines for the future. vation, I think, follows a statement that Christian men and women have for centuries linked their lives to God by means of vows. She adds: "They have done this not., primarily as a witness to oth-ers, but because God has somehow reached into their lives, and so, in being true to themselves, they structure their lives around their rela-tionship to God" (my emphasis; pp. 351,356). She credits Edward Vacek sJ for the latter concept. Here we draw close to the source of continuity over two thousand years of religious commu-nity life, regardless of what reforms or renewals have attended it. The same source or cause will guarantee its contin-uance throughout another millennium. Michael Himes would call the source a radical poverty, an ultimate dependency that he says is "the key value in the vows" (p. 21). Joan Chittister would call it the ultimate commitment and radical atten-tiveness to the presence of God in every aspect of a vowed life. It is my contention, hardly'unique, that this centrality of God, this fact of personal relationship to God, realized and grasped as the origin and end of all resolve and purpose, and of all consequent rela-tionship and mission, is the efficacious cause of continuing life in religious com-munity. All change and adaptation, all forms of communal living and ministry that may develop, will be tested and must be evaluated by this criterion. But spiritual reality must take sensible form if it is to become a human measure of worth. As adaptations and innovations multiply, so do reports and projections. More significant are potentially prophetic voices that try to discern the Spirit in radical change and the reactions it pro-vokes. Few--scholars and prophets included--would presume to forecast the future with confidence. Some contemplate the end of our life as we have known it, or its evolution into confederations, syneisactic (Greek syneisdgein, to. bring in together) communities of mixed genders and terms of commitment, new monastic/apos- Review for Religious tolic arrangements, or vowed ministry within a church defined in nonhierarchical terms. The fundamental question before us, I think, is whether per-sonal relationship to God, in its rhythm of continuing call and free response, has taken directions in the lives of religious women so concrete as to be guidelines for the future--directions, in fact, so clear as to suggest qualities essential to the continuance and integrity of these women's communities. The limitation of aca-d

Issue 69.4 of the Review for Religious, 2010. ; Holy Models Religious Growth Lighting the Way QUARTERLY 69.4 2010 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2010 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 internfil use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits oudined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this pernfission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Catholic ~piri~uali~y eview for religious Editor Book Review Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Rosemary Jermann Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF KathleEn Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 69.4 2010 contents 340 prisms Prisms 342 357 holy models The Spirituality of Francis Libermann: A Man Beyond His Time David L. Smith CSSP presents the embodied spirit of Francis Libermann's spirituality, underlining many instances of how his thought and action is very contemporary. The Love Mysticism of Bernard of Clairvaux and Julian of Norwich Marian Maskulak CPS shows how Bernard and Julian provide valuable material to ponder for contemporary readers who wish to explore the relationship of love between God and human beings. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 377 religious growth Cultivating Mature Relationships in Religious Formation Chinyeaka C. Ezeani MSHR outlines how religious formao tors can model mature interpersonal relationships and respectful ways of communications that can better prepare candidates for a Christlike way of living and relating. Review for Religious 390 Operatic Discernment of a Vocation Daniel J. Heisey OSB suggests that opera, especially Gian Carlo Menotti's The Saint of Bleecker Street and Amahl and the Night Visitors, can help someone discern a religious vocation. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 4O5 42O lighting the way Searching for Jesus at Christmas James H. Kroeger MM treats the nature and purpose of the Gospels, the role of the evangelists, questions of the "historical Jesus," the infancy narratives, and the need for an "adult" faith. Edith Stein, Woman of Light Carolyn Humphreys~ OCDS demonstrates that the themes most apparen.t throughout Edith Stein's life are her integrity, her search for truth, and her complete trust in God. departments 434 Scripture Scope: Meeting the Prophet Isaiah Again for the First Time 439 Book Reviews 444 2010 Indexes 69.4 2010 prisms 340] I seems appropriate in this final issue of Volume 69 that I acknowledge and pay tribute to Father Philip Fischer SJ who has served this journal for some twenty years. Father Fischer died quickly after being diagnosed with liver cancer just as we were sending the previous issue to the printer. For the staff and for me personally his death has left us with an aching loss as a companion in the workplace and a notable hole in our edito-rial process. Philip Fischer had amazing editorial skills. He was the one that I depended on for doing the first edits on all our manuscripts. He took real care in preserving a writer's style and expression while trying to bring a better clarity and a sharpening conciseness in eliminating repetitions. He double-checked all references, sometimes correcting misinformation and at other times adding the proper data. He made our various writers look good', and I say this from my own experience since he made me in my own writing look better than I ever would have through my original draft. In these latter years, Father Fischer made his own special contribution to our journal through his review of books summed up in what he ritled "book shelf life." From all the various books that we receive from the publishing houses, Father Fischer would quickly scan through each Review for Religious book, take notes on a number of them, and then begin to group books into similar themes or subject-matter. Within the weeks more immediate to our publishing schedule, he would construct his own essay on some twenty-five to thirty-five books, relating them in their strengths, referencing occasionally previous works, and adding sometimes his own personal preferences. Over the years, many people have taken the time to express their appreciation of his efforts in book reviews. Philip Fischer died shortly before his eightieth birth-day. He would have been celebrating his sixtieth year as a Jesuit. He was a quiet and unassuming man with great intellectual gifts. He generously offered his services as advisor and editor to many foreign Jesuits studying at Saint Louis University in their writing of class essays and term papers. He also was consulted by a good number of people writing books. He seemed to put no restrictions on the time he would spend in helping others beyond his own editorial responsibilities. Over the past twenty years, Father Philip Fischer has brought the Review for Religious to the kind of excellence in style and correctness that our readers have come to expect. In expressing our own debt of gratitude to him, I and the rest of the staff will do our best to continue the legacy which he has left us. Please join us in our own continuing prayers, that Father Philip Fischer, a wordsmith, can be enjoying companionship with the Word forever. David L. Fleming SJ P.S. Review for Religious staff and advisory board wish all our readers a most blessed Advent season and Christmas season. 341 69.4 2010 DAVID L. SMITH personal witness The Spirituality of Francis Libermann: A Man Beyond His Time ¯ . . the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings. --Gerard Manley Hopkins Since the mid 19th century, Francis Libermann's spiritual teachings have inspired the Congregation of the Holy Spirit. To appre-ciate his unique spiritual doctrine fully, one must know about the congregation's original cradle. Born the son of the Rabbi of Saverne and reared in the study of Torah, the Law, and the Talmud, Libermann was immunized against the philosophical anthropology of his day, the dichotomized worldview of Ren~ Descartes. David L. Smith cssP has taught for thirty-five years in Duquesne University's department of psychology and has also been executive director of its Phenomenology Center. His address is Duquesne University; 600 Forbes Avenue; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15282. Review for Religious His philosophy had tainted Western thought-categories since the early 17th century. Under the pervasive influ-ence of this philosophy, all things spiritual--mind, soul, and spirit--had become disembodied. The separation of mind and body, spirit and matter, natural and super-natural, and secular and sacred became the coin of the religious and spiritual realms. In many ways, human spirituality had turned into an angelic perfectionism. Libermann in large part escaped this pernicious Cartesian influence, thanks to his early education. Under his father's tutelage, he would have learned that . the Hebrew language had no word for body, the human body. The closest Hebrew word is basar, sometimes trans-lated as body, but its essential meaning .is flesh. Robinson informs us that in the ancient Hebrew worldview the flesh-body did not make us separate individuals, but rather connected us in a web or tissue of life to all other human beings. This flesh-body--this animated flesh--is the total human being and the basis for our corporate identity, our solidarity with one another, and especially our common bonding with God. Robinson emphasizes that the ancient Hebrews were interested, not in the body for its own sake, but in its vertical dimension, in that the flesh-body binds us together and binds us Godward. Basar, our animated human flesh, emphasizes our coexistence with others, our bodily To understand Libermann's uniquely existential and incarnational spirituality, we must keep this Hebrew meaning of the human body in mind. 343 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann togetherness with them in the world, and our openness to the Holy Spirit of God. To understand Libermann's uniquely existential and incarnational spirituality, we must keep this Hebrew meaning of the human body in mind. It will sharpen our insight into his passion for social and racial jus-tice, human solidarity, democratic values, and the free-dom and dignity of every human being. Pope Pius XII described Libermann as an "outstanding master of the spiritual life." Henry Koren CSSP, after studying his writings intensively for many yeays, did not hesitate to claim that in the sphere of spiritual doctrine he proved himself an authentic pioneer. Koren attributed the originality, universality, and timelessness of Libermann's spiritual doctrine to his ability to transcend the narrow confines of his native France's romanticism and the self-absorbed bodily mortifications of 19th-century spirit-u-ality (1958, p. 157). With his deep convictions about our common human flesh and our God-given solidarity, Libermann was ahead of his time in many ways and in many arenas. He under-stood that the mission of the Christian community and of the missionary is identical with Jesus' mission, namely, the proclamation of the power of God's unconditional grace to restore all of creation--persons, bodies, and relationships--to wholeness (Volf & Lee; p. 389). Libermann's .spiritual doctrine, always rooted in basar, points us toward the Holy Spirit's action in the world of our daily life. Koren never tires of reminding us that it is not enough just to listen to the words or read the texts to discover what truly animates an indi-vidual or an organization. We must pay heed to what the French phenomenologist Maurice Merleau-Ponty has called "operational intentionality," the lived and living Review for Religious motivation of a person or an organization. Koren asks of his fellow Spiritans, what has been and what is the driv-ing force of their founders and of their members? In his unequivocal and oft repeated response, he replies that the Spiritans' lived spirituality can best be described as an Evangelical Availability, attentive to the Holy Spirit, manifested in the "concrete situations of life." Libermann's spirituality is contemporary in many ways, precisely because he roots it always in the exis-tential situation. In his insistence upon the "concrete situations of life," we detect echoes of Gestalt Therapy's focus on the Here and Now of human experience. The authors of Gestalt Therapy: Excitement and Growth in Human Personality (Perls et al.) encourage this exercise: "Try for a few minutes to make sentences starting with what you are at this moment aware of. Begin with the words 'now' or 'at this moment' or 'here and now.'" After presenting this technique for attending to the environ-ment more vividly, they make this comment: "V~rhatever is actual is, as regards time, always in the present. Hence the stress, if we wish to develop the sense of actuality, on words such as 'now' and 'at this moment'" (p. 31). Libermann's constant advice to seek the Holy Spirit "in the concrete situation of our lives" cradles the "here and now" of Gestalt therapy. It grounds the individual's spiritual life in the actual here and now of the existential dialogue of a personal past-present-future. In this con-text, Libermann reminds us that openness to experience demands detachment from the past. A Man of His Time Libermann seems to .have been richly endowed with the gift of "reading the signs of the time." For this rea-son he could consider the clergy's failure to keep up 69.4 2010 Smith * The Spirituality of Francis Libermann with the times to be their greatest fault. During the French revolution of 1848 and the subsequent demo-cratic elections, Libermann, unlike many of his reli-gious contemporaries and superiors at home and even in Rome, did not pine for some mythical golden age. He was prompt to let go of the traditional church devotion to the ancien rggime. He encouraged his men to get out to vote at the dawning of the democratic state in France. On 22 February, thousands of Parisians had taken to the streets to demand suffrage reform. King Louis Philippe lost his nerve and abdicated. After months of chaos and confusion in the parliament and throughout the nation, Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, nephew of the exiled great emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, was elected president of the Second RetJublic on 10 December 1848 by an overwhelming majority, 5.5 million votes to his closest contender's 1.5 million. No matter that Louis Napoleon had the reputation of a "cretin" and licentious playboy, the people had spo-ken and Louis's election held out promise of a more just order for the poor of France. Libermann honored the people's decision. His sentiments must have reso-nated also with the goals of the American Declaration of Independence of 1776, "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." In a letter to a friend in 1848, he wrote that he welcomed the revolution, for the royalist govern-ment in his judgment was not genuinely concerned for "the happiness of the people." Ahead of his time in the political arena, he took pains to make clear that he saw the downfall of the old regimes as a sign of God's justice against the autocratic rulers that abused the rights of the common people. These sentiments prompted him to opine that someday the autocratic rulers of Russia would also fall. Even in the life of vowed religious com- Review for Religious munities, he expressed his inclination toward democratic values when he reminded his members that the congre-gation's highest authority rested in the consensus of its membership and not in the Rule or the superiors (letter to Father Gamon, 1848, cited in Koren, 1990, p. 18). In the arena of social and racial justice, Libermann also proved himself to be far ahead of his time. At least 125 years before the Catholic Church adopted its "pref-erential option - for the poor," ' Libermann had made this con-cern the keystone of his life and his work. When a Carthusian monk in France wrote to ask about the purpose of his new congrega-tion, Libermann replied that its general purpose was to preach the good news to the poor, in particular the poor blacks of the mis-sions (letter to Dom Salier, cited by Gilbert, p. 106). Koren points out certain sympathies between the doctrines of Karl Marx and Libermann. In their com-mon concern for the poor and oppressed of society, they in their own ways arrived, at the conviction that individ-ual acts of charity would never suffice to ameliorate the social conditions that spawned poverty and oppression. They both grasped the necessity for the structural and systemic change of social conditions. What was needed to reform society was not a handout but a hand-up. In Libermann's opinion it was not sufficient to teach the At least 125 years before the Catholic Church adopted its "preferential option for the poor," Libermann had made this concern the keystone of his life and his work. 347 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann 481 poor in Africa "how to operate things," but "how things operate" (1983, p.105). Marx equally promoted an inti-mate link between education and work. Koren tells us that he advocated an "early combination of progressive labor with education" as "one of the most potent means for the transformation of the existing society into the new society of universal brotherhood" (Selected Works, 2, 38, cited in Koren, 1990, p. 106). In some ways, Libermann's values so closely matched some of Marx's that today he might well be condemned as an enemy of capitalism, or besmirched with the tag of socialist, promoting class warfare¯ Koren tells us that Libermann experienced a profound gratitude over the downfall of the privileged classes of the rich, "that bourgeois aris-tocracy" which he calls "the legal establishment . . . which worships money and tramples on the interests of the poor . God has overthrown their idol" (cited in Koren, 1990, p. 107). Libermann is not speaking here in the voice of a political or economic reformer; he echoes the Hebrew prophets of old. "Hear this, you who tram-ple the needy to do away with the humble of the land. ¯ . The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob, indeed, I will never forget any of their deeds" .(Amos 8:4,6-7). In the realm of personal spiritual direction, Libermann's principles far transcended the common orientation of his contemporaries. As we shall soon see, his style of spiritual direction closely resembled in many ways the nondirective and client-centered approach of the 20th-century American psychotherapist Carl Rogers. But Libermann was not just a man ahead of his time. He was a man beyond his time: he had no desire to be first in anything, except for. love of God and service to others. He was beyond his time because his message and his approach rested solely upon the action of the Holy Review for Religious Spirit. He taught us to be like a feather in the wind or the sail of a ship responding to the breath of the Holy Spirit. It is in a pervasive docility to the Holy Spirit that we find the source of Libennann's flexibility and notable lack of rigidity in his spiritual doctrine. His natural dis-position to allow others to be themselves anticipated and prefigured Carl Rogers's client-centered counseling by at least a hundred years. A Hundred Years before Rogers For instance, empathy plays a central role in Rogerian psychotherapy. It also played a major role in Libermann's life and in his spiritual doctrine. Rogers tries to describe what occurs in the most satisfactory therapeutic relationships. He writes: "It is the counsel-or's function to assume, insofar as he is able, the internal frame of reference of the client, to perceive the world as the client sees it, to perceive the client himself as he is seen by himself" (1965, p. 29). The effective thera-pist must suspend all personal assumptions about the interior life of clients and refrain from imposing any external frame of reference upon them, while trying to convey to them an empathic understanding. It would appear that Libermann's personality was richly endowed with this gift of empathy. Boniface Hanley OFM indicated this special talent when he wrote that "Libermann was a negotiator par excellence. One of the things that contributed to his success in any transaction was his delicate courtesy" (p. 24). One of Libermann's closest collaborators, Father LeVavasseur, often remarked on his keen and delicate sensitivity toward others. He recalled his extraordinary ability in his dealings with others to imagine how he would feel if he were treated as he planned to treat them. 1349 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann It is amazing how this ability to mentally exchange places with other people reflects basic Rogerian princi-ples. For example, Rogers postulates that "every individ-ual exists in a continually changing world of experience of which he is the center" (1965, p. 483). This postulate closely mirrors the central role that "the concrete situ-ation of the individual" plays in Libermann's spiritual doctrine. A Rogerian corollary of the previous postu-late states, "The best vantage point for understanding behavior is from the internal frame of reference of the individual himself" (1965, p. 494). In his own life and teachings, Libermann fully embraced this axiom. This gift of empathy, Libermann's extraordinary capacity to understand the other person by entering the personally experienced world, is intimately linked with another concept of Rogerian psychotherapy, uncondi-tional positive regard. Rogers describes this condition of therapeutic change as follows: "When the therapist is experiencing a warm, positive, and acceptant attitude toward., the client, this facilitates change. It involves the therapist's genuine willingness for the client to be whatever feeling is going on in him at that moment" (1961, p. 62). Relating to the client within this attitude, the therapist allows the client to be. It is an attitude of total acceptance of the client's experiential world, with-out any condemnation of what the client may be expe-riencing. For Rogers this attitude means "an outgoing positive feeling without reservation, without evaluation" (1961, p. 62). Unconditional Positive Regard Keeping in mind this description of unconditional pos-itive regard, we canonly stand in awe before Libermann's spiritual genius when we read these words of his: Review for Religious The uncomfortable feeling we can have when we are with people who think and judge differently from ourselves, who despise us and have no time for us, can easily make us stiff and timid, with the result that we are gloomy, evasive, and awkward when we are with them. This can give a very bad impression and put people off our religion. We must love everybody, whatever they feel about us or our religion. (letter to LeBerre, 1847, cited in de Mare, p. 376) Libermann's attention to his "uncomfortable feelings" reminds us of Rogers's focus upon the essential impor-tance of accepting all our competing and conflicting feel-ings if we wish to attain to a wholesome state of bodily (organismic) congruence. Intimately bound to Roge~-s's therapeutic principle of unconditional regard for the client is his principle of acceptance. He defines acceptance as "a warm regard for him asa person of unconditional self-worth--of value no matter what his condition, his behavior, or his feel- ¯ ings. It means a respect and liking for him as a separate person, a willingness for him to possess his own feelings in his own way" (1961, p. 34). Libermann's writings abound in examples like this Rogerian attitude of acceptance. His close associates commented on feeling at home and at ease in his com-pany. Without doubt his generous capacity to accept oth-ers as they were, to let them be themselves, contributed greatly to the healing power of his spiritual direction. He encouraged self-acceptance and acceptance of oth-ers. He always advised individuals who were anguishing over their faults and imperfections in words like these: "Bear gently, patiently, and most peacefully--as best you can--your needs and your infidelities. Etch deeply in your heart that Jesus and Mary tolerate them with 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann sweetness and kindness, and that their love for you is always the same" (Libermann, pp. 5-6). He alwhys advised people who sought his advice to strive for tranquillity and serenity in their spiritual lives, and he recommended as a general rule that all harsh-ness and rigidity toward oneself should be rejected as a temptation. Some religious people have been suspicious of "self-acceptance," rejecting it as an invention of secu-lar humanistic psychology. Vitz, for example, parodies humanistic psychology and blames its "selfist" theories for the narcissism of our age. Unlike Rogers and Libermann, who believe in the essential goodness of human beings, Vitz stands more in the Calvinist tra-dition of gloom and doom, and does not so believe. It is obvious from Libermann's advice that self-acceptance is central to his doctrine of spirituality. Over and over he urges us and encourages us in the strongest terms to treat ourselves always in a calm, gentle, peaceful, and self-accepting fashion. His language is never hard, harsh, severe, judgmental, or condemnatory. All self-rejection or self-hatred is foreign to his spirit. Only in the heart that is at peace with itself can the Holy Spirit be free to do its work. The acceptance of others is a correlate of this self-acceptance. When the gentle angel of self-acceptance swoops down to slay the dragon of self-negation, it simultaneously opens its arms to embrace and affirm He always advised people who sought his a~vice to strive for tranquillity and serenity in their spiritual lives. Review for Religious others. Rogers stated that, close to an openness to our own inner and outer experience, there emerges an open-ness and acceptance of others. To make his point, he quotes from Maslow about self-actualizing individuals: "As the child looks upon the world with wide, uncriti-cal, and innocent eyes, simply noting and observing what is the case,., so does the self-actualizing person look upon human nature both in himself and in others" (cited in Rogers, 1961, p. 174). Gracious Acceptance of Others Expressions of this gracious acceptance of others, just as they are, abound in Libermann's spiritual writings. He vigorously insists: "Put down as a fundamental principle in the matters of direction: one must not constrain or cramp the one being directed. Refrain from prescribing too many rules" (pp. 13-14). In his spiritual direction he approached others with great flexibility and rejected all legalistic attitudes. He took great pains not to impose his own will or personal preferences upon others, but inclined rather to respect individual differences. We can say that Libermann's spiritual doctrine of unconditional acceptance spared him from all tenden-cies toward an idealized perfectionism. Once again, he was at least a hundred years ahead of his time. In the 1940s and 1950s, the renowned neo-Freudian Karen Horney developed the concept of the "idealized self." She describes this "idealized self" as "what we are in our irrational imaginations, or what we should be according to the dictates of neurotic pride" (p. 158). This idealized self is impossible of attainment, for it is based upon the illusion that a finite being can be perfectly complete. Libermann had anticipated this psychoanalytic insight in 1846 when he warned against "ideal perfection." For 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann the success of our endeavors, he urged that we learn to modify our views and to flow with the circumstances of the actual situation: otherwise we are always stumbling over obstacles and opposition (Libermann, pp. 51-52). A Man Beyond His Time The record indicates that Libermann was a man with a message ahead of his time. His vision did, indeed, transcend his own constricted time and place. While most of the Western world gloried in its own cultural imperialism, he wrote to his missionaries in Africa that they should "forget about Europe and its customs, its ways of thinking" (cited in de Mare, p. 351). He wanted his missionaries to identify with "the Blacks" and not form them in the European model. A good century before the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act of the 1960s in the United States, Libermann expressed his conviction that black people are in every sense equal to the white and that they are equally children of God "with the same nobility of soul . In short, color does not in any way denote inferiority" (letter to M. Percin, 1845, cited in de Mare, p. 377). We may recall the words of a powerful curial cardinal at the time of Vatican Council II when the Declaration on Religious Liberty was being debated: "Error has no rights." With this bon mot, he hoped to squelch the church's belated recognition of religious liberty for all. In light of current church teaching, Libermann's posi-tion was certainly more prophetic than the cardinal's. In 1846 he wrote: "It is difficult to appreciate how impor-tant this tolerance is. There is no way in which people will always agree" (letter to Lossedat, 13 April, cited in de Mare, p. 367). Most striking are the words from one of Libermann's letters quoted earlier. In 1847, he wrote Review for Religious that people "must be given complete freedom to think and act as they want. No man on this earth is capable of forcing the will, the conscience, or the intellect of others (letter to LeBerre, 8 September 1847, cited in de Mare, p. 376). Libermann's vision embraced many of the values we hold close to our hearts today. He cherished and advocated for religious tolerance, racial justice, human dignity, liberty, and solidarity with all the poor and oppressed of the world. He could see far because of his total availability to the Holy Spirit. It may be a little hagiographical to say so, but he was not only ahead of his time, but a man with a message beyond time, His spiritual wisdom constantly reminds us that we never labor alone in some ideal situation in some perfect world. It is only under the brooding of the Holy Spirit that the groaning of creation is stilled and the wounded heart of the world healed. With Libermann we pray, "Come, Holy Spirit, and renew the face of the earth." References Bierman, J. (1988). Napoleon III and His Carnival Empire. New York: St. Martin's Press. De Mare, C. (ed.). (2002). Spiritan anniversary diary (1703-2003): An historical overview published by the Generalate of the Congregation of the Holy Spirit as part of the celebrations of the Spiritan year (February 2002-Pentecost 2003). Rome: Congregazione dello Spirito Santo. Donnelly, D, (2003). A Universal Call. [Review of the book Housing Heaven's Fire: The Challenge of Holiness]. America, 188 (7), 32-33. Gilbert, A. (1983). You have laid your hand on me: A message from Francis Libermann for our time (M.L. Fay, trans.). Rome: Spiritan Research and Animation Centre. Hanley, B. (n.d.). TO the ends of the earth: Francis Libermann. [Brochure reprinted from The Antonian]. Pittsburgh: Holy Ghost Fathers. Horney, K. (1950). Neurosis and Human Growth: The Struggle Toward Self-Realization. New York: bV.W. Norton. 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Frands Libermann Koren, H. (1958)¯ The Spiritans: A History of the Congregation of the Holy Ghost. Louvain: Editions E. Nauwelaerts. ¯ (1990). F~says on the Spiritan charisnt and on Spiritan history. Bethel Park, Pennsylvania: Spiriths Press. Libermann, F. (n.d). Simplified advice¯ (EX. Malinowski, trans. & ed.). (Available from the Holy Spirit Provincialate, 6230 Brush Run Rd., Bethel Park, Pennsylvania 15102). Unpublished booldet. Perls, E, R. Heffenline, & P. Goodman (1951). Gestalt Therapy: Excitement and Growth in the Human Personality. New York: Dell. Malinowski, F.X. (n.d.). The Holy Spirit in Francis Libermann. Unpublished manuscript. Robinson, J. (1952). The Body: A Study in Pauline Theology. Philadelphia: Westminster Press. Rogers, C. (1942). Counseling and Psychotherapy: Newer Concepts in Practice. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. ¯ (1961). On Becoming a Person: A Therapist's View of Psychotherapy. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. ¯ (I 965). Client-Centered Therapy: Its Current Practice, hnplications, and Theory. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Vitz, P. (1977). P~ychology as Religion: The Cult of Self-Worship. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans. Volf, M., and M. Lee (2001). The spirit and the church. In B. Hinze & D.L. Dabney (eds.), Advents of the Spirit: An Introduction to the Current Study of Pneumatology. Milwaukee: Marquette University Press. Forerunner If even He Was made perfect By what He suffered, Why do we expect To be exempt? This is no easy path We have begun But, ah, the Trailblazer We have in Him. Teresa Burleson Review for Religious MARIAN MASKULAK The Love Mysticism of Bernard of Clairvaux and Julian of Norwich ~f~lian of Norwich (1342-c.1416) has been recognized r her Trinitarian and Christocentric mysticism as well as for her maternal imagery for God. While these placements are certainly accurate, I believe that more attention needs to be paid to the love mysticism in her spirituality. After all, Julian herself came to understand that love was precisely the meaning of her revelations,l As Joan Nuth writes, "If Julian's teaching can be summed up in one word, that word is love.''2 I find it instructive to examine how her treatment of love compares with that of someone who is considered a "classic guide" for love mysticism--Bernard of Clairvaux3 (1090-1153). Scholars of mysticism generally agree that Bernard stands out among Christian writers of his time as one who cul-tivated a spirituality of love and affective mysticism. Marian Maskulak CPS, assistant professor of Theology and Religious Studies, writes again from St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Queens, New York 11439. 68.4 2009 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism In fact, Louis Dupr~ credits Bernard with defining, in the West, contemplation as love.4 In their introduction to Julian's Showings, Edmund Colledge and James Walsh identify two connections between Julian and Bernard: understanding contempla-tion as "the working of mercy and grace, desire and fulfillment," and focusing on God's desire for human beings,s This article demonstrates that a number of other love-related themes in Julian's Sbo~vings can be linked with several of Bernard's writings, namely, On Loving God and selected sermons on the Song of Songs. Both authors speak with great abandon in describing God's first, gratuitous, and universal love, and both use strong imagery to portray the love and mutual desire between God and the human being. Both also charac-terize true love as including self-knowledge and absence of fear. I believe that the correlations are sufficient to rank Julian's love mysticism with Bernard's. This is not to say that the love spirituality they advocate is the same or that there is any simple corre-spondence to be found. Nor is their manner of expres-sion the same. While Bernard's thoughts are often clearly punctuated with scriptural verses or references, there are very few of these in Julian's Sbozvings. This lack seems attributable to Julian's time and place, for in 1409 the archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Arundel, placed regulations on preaching and theological teaching, and forbade written copies of English translations of the Scriptures. Julian, however, does incorporate several scriptural themes, often by way of allusion, and refers to events like the annunciation and Jesus' passion and death. After examining both authors, I maintain that that the quality of Julian's love mysticism is no less than Bernard's. Review for Religious Brief Historical Context Bernard and Julian were two extremely diverse persons living in vastly different times. It will help to situate them historically. Well educated, Bernard lived as a Cistercian monk from the time he was twenty-one until his death at sixty-three. He advocated monastic reform, founded sixty-eight monasteries, was engaged in political, church, and theo-logical disputes, supported the Second Crusade, and left some 3,500 pages of let-ters, treatises, and sermons.6 Interestingly, the 12th century witnessed a proliferation of literature dealing with love, not only in the secular West, but also in the world's religions.7 Two centuries later, Europe was smitten with the Black Plague, the Hundred Years' War, and numer-ous other state and ecclesiastical conflicts. From this very different sociohistorical world comes the voice of Julian, about whom there is very little biographical information. At the age of thirty she had sixteen rev-elations, which included bodily visions of the crucified Lord, words formed in her understanding, and spiri-tual visions (ST 7, LT 9). As an anchoress, she spent the next twenty years reflecting on these revelations, which she recorded in a short and long text of her single work, Showings (LT 51). Although she refers to herself as "a woman, ignorant, weak, and frail" (ST 6), Julian demonstrates knowledge of the Latin Vulgate and the classical spiritual writings. It is not known where she received her education or where she had access to such Bernard and Julian were two extremely diverse persons living in Vastly different times. 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism 601 writings, but the possibilities are not lacking. There was an Augustinian friary on the same street as her anchor-hold adjoining the Church of St. Julian. Norwich also had a Dominican, a Franciscan, and a Carmelite friary as well as a Benedictine cathedral priory.8 A Cistercian abbey, Sibton, about thirty-seven miles outside the city, was within the diocese of Norwich and held estates in about ten parishes in Norwich. The Experience of God Although their mystical experiences of God greatly differ, the first correlation between these two authors is precisely the importance of experience for both of them. Although Bernard engages in some speculative thought, Jean Leclercq points out that "for Bernard, everything begins and ends with experience and, in between, experience is the object of reflection.''9 From a specifically mystical perspective, Grace Jantzen also notes the importance of experience for Bernard. She writes that "the mystical is no longer confined to the meaning of Scripture. nor to an intellectual progress, but is extended to experience . We have in Bernard a clear recognition of the mystical as experiential: it is a shift in meaning whose resonances are with us still.''~° Julian also engages in speculative thought, but all her reflection is on the experience of God's sixteen rev-elations to her. She repeatedly notes that this was what she saw or heard, or this was what was shown to her or what came to her understanding. A look at the mystical experience of each shows that, ironically, the well-known, charismatic, highly active, prolific Cistercian writer expe-rienced God's presence almost imperceptibly, while the fairly obscure English woman experienced God's presence quite dramatically. Both, however, were convinced of Review for Religious having experienced the divine presence. Moreover, rather than placing emphasis on themselves, both Bernard and Julian focus on the God of their experience. In one of his sermons, Bernard describes his mys-tical experience as follows: "I tell you that the Word has come even to me. and that he has come more than once. Yet, however often he has come, I have never been aware of the moment of his coming. I have known he was there; I have remembered his presence after-ward; sometimes I had an inkling that he was coming. But I never felt it, nor his leaving me.''1~ Bernard has no explanation as to the how of the Word's coming or going, but knows that, when present, the Word stirs his sleeping soul and moves, soothes, and pierces his heart. The warmth of Bernard's heart indicated the Word's presence, and as proof of the Word's power he states that his faults were purged and he experienced the good-ness of God's mercy. These affects became dim and cold when the Word left him, and Bernard describes his soul as being sorrowful until his heart would warm again, signaling the Word's presence. In the Word's absence, Bernard longed for his return.~2 While secondary mystical phenomena such as visions seem to be absent in Bernard's experience, their startling prevalence characterizes Julian's. Julian herself remarks on the lifelike vividness of her visions, especially those of the crucified Christ (LT 12, 16, 17). Although she never received any more visions after the sixteen revela-tions (certainly, these would last anyone for a lifetime!), Julian gives proof of having at least one more experi-ence of a spiritual understanding given to her some fif-teen years later while pondering the Lord's meaning in the revelations. She was told, "Know it well, love was his, meaning. Who reveals it to you? Love. What did t361 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism he reveal to you? Love. Why does he reveal it to you? For love" (LT 86). In the years that followed her revela-tions, Julian most likely felt God's presence or absence much the same as other Christians. In fact, God's felt presence or absence was the subject of her seventh revelation, where in quick, repeated succession Julian alternately experienced the comfort of God's presence followed by the heaviness of God's absence. In this way God taught her that it is God who keeps one whether in sorrow or joy (LT 15). As noted above, Bernard also recognizes the distinction between feeling God's pres-ence and absence, but provides no rationale as to why this happens. He comments, however, that one cannot attribute the desire to seek God to God's absence since God is always present.13 God as the Source of Loving God Despite the contrasts in their mystical experience, both Bernard and Julian recognize that God desires to be loved by human beings. Echoing 1 John 4:10, Bernard succinctly states that God is the cause of loving God, and ought to be loved beyond measure.~4 Bernard supports this position by distinguishing between four degrees of human love. The first degree entails loving oneself for one's own sake, or what Bernard calls bodily love. Bodily love can be extended to love of neighbor in the community. When people learn that God is the author of their existence, they start to seek God's help out of need and thus begin to love God, marking the second degree of love. As they approach God repeatedly out of need, God's self is gradually revealed through their prayer, reflection, reading, and obedience. In this familiarity, they begin to experience God's sweetness and pass to the third degree, Review for Religious loving God for God's sake. In addition they freely love their neighbor as belonging to God. Bernard believes that the fourth degree of love, marked by loving one-self for God's sake and willing only what God wills, is very rare on earth. He writes, "To lose your-self as though you did not exist and to have no sense of yourself, to be emptied out of yourself and almost annihilated, belongs to heavenly not to human love.''~5 ' Should people be admitted to such a union with God, they are soon called back by the distractions and cares of life, and by love for their neighbor. To love in the manner of the fourth degree is to become like God. Bernard uses beautiful imagery to describe how human love that is free of self-will "dissolves" and is poured into God's will. His analogies include a drop of water in wine which seems to disappear while taking on the wine's flavor and color, a red-hot iron that cannot be distin-guished from the fire, and air suffused with sunlight so that it seems to be light itself. In all three analogies, the substance itself seems to disappear, yet it remains in another form. Bernard submits that something similar takes place in the human being in becoming more like God. Although martyrs partly received this grace, as seen by their being unmoved in their great love of God in the midst of bodily torment, he believes that this kind of love is only possible in a spiritual and immortal body, subject to the spirit in all things. It cannot be obtained by human effort, but is in God's power to give as God pleases.~6 As for the greatness of God's love, Bernard Both Bernard and Julian recognize that God desires to be loved by human beings. 363 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism affirms that even those who are weighed down in sin can turn back to God, not just in the hope of mercy, but with the aspiration to be the Word's bride,my Although Julian is fond of "numbering" some of her insights in list style, she does not do so with love. Rather, she repeatedly emphasizes that God greatly loves even when humans sin (LT 40, 61, 82), and that God desires human love. The extent of God's love is perhaps best portrayed when she states that, if Jesus could suffer more, he would do so--because of his great love. From this perspective, Julian concludes that there is nothing that God would not do for humans out of love (LT 22, 24). Also, God holds the same love for the least soul to be saved as for the soul of Christ (LT 54). As with Bernard, she recognizes that God is the cause of loving God. She speaks of this in terms of God being the ground or foundation of human seeking of God (LT 41; 86). Julian delineates three longings in God: God longs to teach people to know and love God, longs for their personal presence, and longs to fill them with bliss (LT 75, 31). God rejoices in human beings and desires that human beings also take joy in God (LT 11, 30, 36). While Bernard asserts that it is easier to love in return when one knows that one is loved,ms Julian stresses that knowing how greatly the Trinity rejoices in human beings will cause them to likewise rejoice in God (LT 68). 364 Human Desire Not only do Bernard and Julian discuss God's desire for human love, but both take into consideration the role of human desire. Bernard writes that the greatest good is that of seeking God, and that "God is sought not on foot but by desire." 19 Furthermore, finding what one desires R~view for Religious only enhances desire. He illustrates this by noting how desire continually prompts people to seek material things and positions that are finer, higher, or better. Rather than enjoying what they have, they anxiously want something more or else fear losing what they already have. This is a never ending process since no discuss God's desire for material posses-sions ever fully sat-isfy them. Bernard states that, after attaining every-thing attainable and still finding themselves dissatisfied, people who desire the greatest good would ultimately seek what they still lack, God. He realizes, however, that, because of the shortness of life, temptations, and insufficient strength, this sce-nario is impossible. For this reason he wishes that people would be satisfied with reaching their desires in thought alone rather than in actual experience, for the mind is quicker than the senses. In this way they would learn more quickly that God causes human desire and God alone satisfies that desire.2° But this desire will be fulfilled only when they attain their glorious body in heaven. Here it is helpful to note that Bernard delineates three phases for the body. The earthly body helps the soul to love God, the dead body brings peace, and the glorious body brings completeness. Bernard views the body as a good companion to the good spirit and main-tains that the soul would not want to be perfected with-out the body that has served it well. Those who have Not only do Bernard and Julian human love, but both take into consideration the role of human desire. 69.4 2010 Maskulak * The Love Mysticism 366 assumed their glorious bodies burn fiercely with love for God for God's sake alone. Nothing holds them back. These are forever intoxicated with love, immortal life, and the torrent of God's delight "in the most passionate and most chaste embrace of Bridegroom and Bride.''21 Using the language of Augustine, Julian states that the soul will find rest only in God (LT 5, 26, 68). Along with Bernard, she counsels that created things are too small to satisfy people's desire, and that everything that falls short of God will never satisfy human beings. She agrees that God is the source and fulfillment of desire, for God reveals to her: "I am he who makes you to love; I am he who makes you to long; I am he, the endless fulfilling of all true desires" (LT 59, 36, 41). Julian adds that, in itself, seeking God also pleases God and is as good as beholding God, if this is God's will (LT 10). Exemplifying Bernard's statement that finding what one desires does not end but only increases desire, Julian admits that she saw God and yet sought God; that she had God, and yet still wanted God. From her own expe-rience she recounts that the more the soul sees of God, the more it desires God (LT 10). Julian believes that this desire will be fulfilled in heaven, and like Bernard she uses strong imagery to describe this culmination of desire. At that time we will know ourselves clearly and wholly possess God, and "endlessly hidden in God, truly seeing and wholly feeling, and hearing him spiritually and delec-tably smelling him and sweetly tasting him., we shall see God face to face, familiarly and wholly" (LT 43). Universality of God's Love and Self-Knowledge Both writers indicate, to an extent, God's universal love. In his treatise On Loving God, Bernard extends his discussion of love to include unbelievers who are able Review for Religious to witness God's generous love in such gifts as food, sun, and air as well as in the gifts of human dignity, knowledge, and virtue, all of which work together to confess God's glory. For Bernard it is inconceivable that unbelievers should not recognize that all the above-mentioned gifts come from God. Indeed, he asserts that it is inexcusable for unbelievers not to love God with all their heart, mind, and strength, which for Bernard means loving God with all one is, knows, and does. It is inexcusable because unbelievers know themselves, and such knowledge results in their recognition that they owe God everything, including their own dignity, knowledge, and virtue. This, in turn, leads them to con-cliade that God is the author of everything.22 This seems a rather strong assertion in today's world, where atheism abounds, but Bernard was most likely thinking of Jews, Muslims, and pagans, all of whom accepted belief in God or gods. Bernard extends his understanding of the universality of God's love to all creation when he states that love is the eternal law that creates and governs the universe.23 In her writing, Julian stresses that the revelations were given to her in order to make the comfort of God's love known to all. At times she uses phrases such as "fel-low Christians," "all mankind which will be saved," or "all mankind" for whom Jesus was sent, or "all the souls which will be saved in heaven" (LT 8, 40, 51, 53). Yet at other times she clearly says that God desires to draw home by love all humankind in general, and that God's merciful comfort is plentiful enough for all (LT 75, 79). Like Bernard, Julian points out the goodness of all creation, which God made out of love (LT 5, 11, 57). Both authors also speak of self-knowledge. For Bernard, self-knowledge is clearly people's first step '367 69.4 2010 Maskulak * The Love Mysticism towards recognizing their own dignity, and their sin-fulness as well: it makes humility and conversion possi-ble. 24 Julian directly relates knowing oneself to knowing God. In fact, because the soul is so deeply grounded in God, she believes that people come to know God before knowing their own soul. Yet they must also desire to know their own soul and to seek it where it is, that is, in God. Whether they are seeking to know God or themselves, the Holy Spirit leads them to know both God and their own soul in one (LT 56). 368 Creation and Re-Creation Another strong correlation between both writers is their emphasis on the immensity of God's love for human beings, shown not only in their creation but also in their re-creation through Jesus' self-giving on the cross. Bernard asks how, in one's smallness, one can love God who loves so generously. No one can really perceive iust how .much God deserves to be loved, and people owe their whole self in return for their creation. And Bernard holds they were not only "made" in cre-ation, but also "remade" through redemption. They owe their whole selves twice over. As already noted, Bernard counsels loving God without measure, but recognizes that even this is God's gift and persons can love God only according to their capacity. To love God more requires God's help.25 Julian also stresses that human beings were first made in the likeness of the Trinity and then remade through Jesus' passion and death (LT 10). Emphasizing that God has loved humankind from eternity, Julian elaborates on the mutual love and indwelling of God in the soul and the soul in God (LT 53). The soul is so united to the Creator that' there can be nothing between the soul Review for Religious and God. The soul is kept whole in the endless love of God, who loves even the least soul as much as the soul of Christ. In his translation of Sbozvings, John Skinner highlights the unity between the soul and the Creator by speaking of it as being "oned with the Maker.''26 In this mutual indwelling, Julian sees no difference between God and human substance (that is, that which is of God). She distinguishes between substance and sensuality (that which relates to being human), noting that human sub-stance is in God and God is in human sensuality (LT 53, 54). It seems that Sbo~vings presents a more holistic approach to the human person than Bernard's writings, or, as Grace Jantzen states, Julian integrates the body into her spirituality.27 She views the soul as "a created trinity," united to the Creator, and known and loved from eternity. In this unity, both body and soul help each other until the person reaches full stature (LT 55). Intimate Love This notion of union or "oneing" between the soul and its Creator leads to a consideration of the imagery which these writers use regarding the love .relationship between God and the individual. Bernard uses the erotic language of the bride and bridegroom found in the Song of Songs. His sermons on this book are replete with images of human love and intimacy. Insisting that God loves for no other purpose than to be loved, he states that the bridegroom is love and asks for love, and only in love can created persons respond to their Creator. All is given when one loves with all one's heart. With overtones of Julian's description of the soul united to the Creator, Bernard writes that such love "is nothing other than holy and chaste love, love sweet and tender, love as tranquil as it is true, mutual, close, deep love, 69.4 2010 Maskulak * The Love Mysticism 3701 which is not in one flesh, but which joins two in one spirit, making two no longer two but one.''28 Julian never explicitly refers to the Song of Songs, but she does use language that evokes the love and intimacy found in that text. For example, she point-edly states that God rejoices to be Father, Mother, and Spouse of the soul, which is God's beloved wife. "And in the joining and the union he is our very true spouse and we his beloved wife and his fair maiden., for he says: I love you and you love me, and our love will never divide in two" (LT 58). She also refers to God as the lover who desires that persons see themselves bound to God in love as though all that God has accomplished was done for themselves alone. Julian concludes that, when everyone looks at God as their lover, a strong bond of unity is created among people (LT 65). Other words that might indicate the influence of the Song of Songs are Julian's statement that God is pleased when a soul approaches "naked, openly, and familiarly" (LT 5). It can be noted that Bernard also counsels approaching God confidently, as a friend,29 but Julian emphasizes God's courtesy and familiarity rather than that of the human being (ST 16, 24; LT 5, 7, 40, 48, 52, 53, 58, 61, 73, 77). An echo of the poetic descriptions in the Song of Songs may be detected also in Julian's statement "Glad and merry and sweet is the blessed and lovely demeanor of our Lord towards our souls, for he saw us always liv-ing in love-longing, and he wants our souls to be gladly disposed towards him, to repay him his reward" (LT 71). Like Bernard, Julian uses the metaphor of embrace, but she does so with reference to clothing, describing Jesus as wrapping himself about human beings and never leaving them (LT 5). Review for Religious Maternal Imagery Far more than spousal imagery, Julian uses the image of a loving, caring, compassionate, and nurtur-ing mother to depict God's love. She frequently applies the image of motherhood to Jesus as one who loves his children, bears them to endless life, feeds them with himself, leads them into his breast through his wounded side, watches over them, and washes and heals them with his blood (LT 58, 59, 60, 61). Without giving any indication of purposely doing so, Julian provides us with an excellent example of how language about God is analogical. While she notes a number of similarities between Jesus and human mothers, she clearly identifies how Jesus as mother goes beyond the ordinary human conceptions of motherhood. For Julian, the word mother can be applied truly only to Jesus (LT 60). Even if she is not trying to provide a lesson on analogical language about God, perhaps she is indeed making her case for using maternal imagery for God by showing how it exceeds human categories. It is known that maternal imagery to describe God and Christ was popular among 12th-century Cistercian monks. In his Sermon 9 on the Song of Songs, Bernard quotes its first verse as saying "your breasts are bet-ter than wine." Noting that the speaker is not iden-tified, ¯ Bernard consecutively attributes these words to the bridegroom, the bride, and the groom's compan-ions. Associating the bridegroom with Jesus, Bernard speaks of the grace, joy, sweetness, and milk of conso-lation that flow from the bridegroom's breasts.3° In a letter Bernard writes: "Do not let the roughness of our life frighten your tender years. If you feel the stings of temptation., suck not so much the wounds as the breasts of the Crucified. He will be your mother, and 371 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism you will be his son." Interestingly, Bernard also applies the image of mother to "Moses, Peter, Paul, prelates in general, abbots in general, and more frequently himself as abbot,''3~ but he does not develop the mother image for Jesus as fully as Julian does. Perhaps it is because, in this analogy for love, his focus is on the child more than on the mother. He writes that, although children ought to love their parents, they are more inclined to honor them; in fact, some only love their parents out of concern for their inheritance. Unquestionably, Bernard sees the bond of bride and bridegroom as the epitome of love, stronger than the bond between parents and children.32 No Place for Fear Attesting to the greatness of God's love, Bernard asserts that one who loves God has nothing to fear, even if one has been an unfaithful lover. Every soul, no mat-ter what its condition, whether filled with anxieties or trapped in sin and error, can turn back to God to find not only mercy and forgiveness, but even hope to be the bride of the Word. The fact that one is created in God's image should allay any fear. Confidence and freedom accompany a love which, in the words of 1 John 4:18, casts out fear.33 Although Julian does not speak directly about the sense of freedom enjoyed by those who love without fear, she often implies it. She writes of God's pleasure when a person approaches unafraid, in simplicity and trust. Sinners need not fear, for much to her amaze-ment Julian discovers that in God there is neither anger nor blame (LT 13, 45, 46, 49, 50). Except for "reverent fear," which causes us to flee from harm and to seek God, Julian asserts that fears are not from God and R~view for Religious should be avoided. Her overriding message is that God is so good, merciful, and compassionate that, like a child confidently running to its mother's arms, one need not have any fear in approaching God (LT 48, 61, 74). Reward The notion of reward as related to love is also found in each author's writings. Bernard states that God ought to be loved without seeking reward, for true love finds reward in what it loves. Therefore, one who asks for any reward other than God does not love God. God's love rewards human love, and God is our eternal reward.34 Agreeing that God is our eternal reward (ST 16, 20; LT 41, 81, 82), Julian elaborates on the concept of reward. In an unexpected twist, she asserts that human beings are Jesus' reward for his acts of salvation (ST 12, LT 22, 31). In an even bolder declaration, she maintains that human beings will be rewarded for the pain they suffered from sin. When speaking of - those who are sorry for their sins, confess them, and perform the required penance, she writes, "And as sin is punished here with sorrow and penance, in contrary fashion it will be rewarded in heaven by the courteous love of our Lord God almighty, who does not wish any-one who comes there to lose his labors" (ST 17, LT 38, 39). God also rewards human beings for their patient waiting until they are able to leave behind the pains and woes of this life (LT 64). God's love rewards human love, and God is ,our eternal reward. 373 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mystidsm Summary Comparisons While classifying mystics might hold some advan-tages, it also has the drawback of focusing attention in certain directions. Julian of Norwich, known for her Trinitarian and Christocentric mysticism, as well as her referring to God as mother, provides a case in point. Since Bernard of Clairvaux is known for the pri-macy of love in his mysticism, I have used several of his writings as a standard, so to speak, against which to measure Julian's love-texts and show how central love is in Julian's mysticism. While Julian and Bernard both present their own experiences and perceptions, their treatments of the love of God also display much in common. Despite diverse styles, they both speak of this love with great abandon. In strong and compelling language, both describe God's immense love as given first, and gratuitously, to all. They give firm assurance that God loves human beings and seeks their love. They portray the love between God and the human being in strong and beautiful imagery, pointing out the mutuality of desire that this involves. Both Bernard and Julian show that people's self-knowledge is important for their knowledge of God, and that absence of fear characterizes true love. Bernard certainly deserves his position of prominence in the church and his title of "doctor mellifluus" for his achievements in expressing a mysticism of love, but Julian, too, displays an expe-rienced teacher's mastery of love mysticism. From the depths of their own experience, prayer, and reflection, these spiritual writers offer much to those who wish a better understanding of the love relationship between God and human beings. Review for Religio~s Notes l Julian of Norwich, Showings, trans. Edmund Colledge and James Walsh (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), Long Text 86. Hereafter, in parent.heses, Long Text will be designated as LT, and Short Text as ST. 2 Joan M. Nuth, Wisdom's Daughter: The Theology of Julian of Norwich (New York: Crossroad, 1991), p. 169. 3 Bernard of Clairvaux: Selected Works, trans. G.R. Evans (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), Preface by Ewert Cousins, p. 5. 4 Light from Light: An Anthology of Christian Mysticism, 2nd ed., ed. Louis Duprfi and James Wiseman (New York: Paulist Press, 2001), General Introduction, pp. 7, 10. s Colledge and Walsh, Showings, Introduction, pp. 26, 107. They also find her dependent on Bernard's fellow Cistercian William of St. Thierry, in her discussion of the godly will and God as mother. 6 Evans, Bernard, Introduction by Jean Leclercq, pp. 16-17, 30. Y Evans, Bernard, Preface by Cousins, in pp. 5-7. 8 Norman P. Tanner, The Church in Late Medieval Norwich, 1370- IY32 (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1984), p. 19. 9 Evans, Bernard, Introduction by Leclercq, p. 31. 10 Grace Jantzen, Power, Gender, and Christian Mysticism (United Kingdom: Cambridge University Press, 1995), p. 126. n Evans, Bernard, "Sermons [on the Song of Songs]," Sermon 74, pp. 254-255. 12 Evans, Bernard, Sermon 74, pp. 255-256. is Evans, Bernard, Sermon 84, pp. 274-275. 14 Evans, Bernard, "On Loving God," 1.1, 6.16, 6.22; "Sermons," Sermon 83, p. 274; Sermon 84, 275-276. is Bernard, "On Loving God," 8.23-10.27, 14.38, 15.39. 16 Bernard, "On Loving God," 10.27-11.30. i~ Bernard, Sermon 83, pp. 270-271. 18 Bernard, "On Loving God," 3.7. 19 Bernard, Sermon 84, p. 274. 20 Bernard, "On Loving God," 6.18-6.21. 21 Bernard, "On Loving God," 11.30-11.33; see also Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 271. 22 Bernard, "On Loving God," 2.6, 5.14. 23 Bernard, "On Loving God," 12.35. 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mystidsm 24 Bernard McGinn, "The Human Person as Image of God: II. Western Christianity," in Christian Spirituality: Origins to the Twelfth Century, ed. Bernard McGinn and John Meyendorff (New York: Crossroad, 1985), p. 324; Bernard, "On Loving God," 2.3-2.4. z~ Bernard, "On Loving God," 4.5-6.16. 26 Julian of Norwich, Revelation of Love, trans. John Skinner (New York: Doubleday Image Books, 1996), p. 55. 27Jantzen, Power, p. 156. 2s Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 274. 29 Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 271. 3o Bernard of Clairvaux: On the Song of Songs, vol. 1, trans. Kilian Walsh, The Works of Bernard of Clairvaux (Spencer: Cistercian Publications, 1971), pp. 55-58. 3~ Caroline Walker Bynum, Jesus as Mother: Studies in the Spirituality of the High Middle Ages (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982), pp. 117, 115. 32 Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 273. 33 Bernard, Sermon 83, pp. 270-271; Sermon 84, pp. 276-278; Bernard, "On Loving God," 14.38; Sermon 7, p. 232. 34 Bernard, "On Loving God," 6.17, 6.22, 11.33; Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 272. Personal Reflection [ Group Discussion 1. What is your favorite image to describe your own love-relationship with God? 2. Both Bernard and Julian use a number of love images for God and our human relationship. What images have I found most helpful? Review for Religious CHINYEAKAC. EZEANI Cultivating Mature Relationships in Religious Formation It is rightly said that "no one is an island." Human beings like to live in relationships. Social psychologists have noted that people usually prefer living with others, in families and communal groups, to living alone.~ Even amid relationships, however, there is yet in the human heart a certain hesitancy and fear at the possibility of losing oneself in others. Hence, naturally, diverse factors have significant influ-ence in interpersonal relations. Difficulties and conflicts can spring up while a person tries to relate with others in an authentic way. This helps us understand why formators struggle in their day-to-day relations with one another and with those in formation. Individuals in for-marion experience similar struggles as they try to relate not just with their formators but also Chinyeaka C. Ezeani MSHR served as a formator in Nigeria and is now a member of her congregation's leadership in Dublin: 23 Cross Avenue; Blackrock, Co. Dublin; Ireland. r lioious 68.4 2009 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships with their peers coming from different backgrounds. In this article, we will examine some of the chal-lenges to good communication and relationships in for-marion. People cannot claim to love God, whom they cannot see, while they have no love for their neighbor. And so we will explore some skills that can facilitate mature human relations in the formation ministry. We will make some suggestions on how to offer helpful feed-back to persons in formation in ways that respect their integrity and enhance their personal growth. Learning this will no doubt flow into one's relationship with the Creator and make it flourish. Obstacles to Mature Relationship in Formation Intimacy versus isolation. As indicated above, human beings have a basic need for intimacy with other human beings, and consequently they desire to be close to oth-ers. There is a corresponding need for isolation, a need to be alone. Erik Erikson,2 in his analysis of psychosocial development, identified the polarities of desire for union with or closeness to another (intimacy) and desire for aloneness (isolation). We experience a tension between wanting to be close to another and a fear of being too close. When you come closer to another person, or when you allow another to come close to you, sooner or later that closeness begins to make demands on you, on your time, your personal space, your freedom. This provokes a dilemma: Should I keep this person at arm's length, or should I create some space for him or her in my life? Usually, interpersonal relational ambivalence emerges because of the primary "striving for related-ness to other human beings" and the simultaneous striv-ing for "a sense of personal identity.''3 Because of these seemingly contradictory longings, persons who enter Review for Religiotts a community or group go through different stages as they get integrated into it.4 The first stage is inclusion, in which individuals' primary preoccupation is whether they are loved and accepted. The next stage is power, in which people wonder about their autonomy and their capacity to challenge, in this case, both the formator and their peers. The third and final stage is intimacy or affection, in which the primary concern is equality with others, the readiness of all to give rather than to receive. These stages involve confusion and uncertainty regarding one's status and position in a group. Hence, before one can get fully involved in the give-and-take of interpersonal relations and communal life, one goes through these stages. And, naturally, these stages can involve personal difficulties. Communication deficiency. When it comes to mature interpersonal relations, communication is vital. To be helpful, however, communication must be healthy and mature; if not, any authentic relating with the other at any level will be almost impossible. Can you imagine a religious formation community where people com-municate only by slipping little pieces of paper under one another's door? "Unhealthy communication can be a block to healthy intimacy and affective maturity. Communication helps foster greater connection, and communication is fundamentally a learned set of skills and behaviors.''5 Arrogance and a superior attitude. Whenever some-one approaches another with an attitude of arrogance When it comes to mature interpersonal relations, communication is vital. 69.4 2010 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships and superiority, the other may respond with either anger, self-defense, or resistance. Alternatively, the per-son could cower in fear, feeling like a "lesser being." When this happens, for example, between a formator and someone in formation, the formative environment becomes tense, and the one in formation may try to cope by external conforming. As a result, there could be apparent peace and tranquillity in the formation house, because such persons would seem to have no difficulty with answering "Yes, Brother," "Yes, Sister," or "Yes, Father." In the long term, however, the result may be groups of young priests and religious who bully others because that was what was modeled for them in their own formation. Aggression. The environments in which we are raised usually have an influence on us. In some cultures, shout-ing at one another seems to be an acceptable way of relating. Such scenes abound even in public places such as post offices, government offices, and marketplaces. To sell wares in the market or to get passengers into public buses, people have been conditioned to shout in order to draw attention. It appears to have become normal to shout to get some attention or make a point subjectively considered to be important. A sister once confessed that, when she was a postulant, whenever the directress gave her feedback gently without shouting, she did not take it seriously. She thought the matter was not serious because she had been socialized to believe that, if an issue was serious enough, the directress would have shouted at her to indicate the seriousness of the matter. Aggression usually attracts aggression. Suppose someone approaches you to express his or her disap-proval or ill feeling over how you handled an issue. What can happen if the person begins to speak to Review for Religious you with strong and accusing words? You are likely to respond or react in the same way or with self-defense. The meaningful dialogue that could have taken place is thus aborted. Low self-esteem and negative self-image. Just like an attitude of superiority towards others, low self-esteem is a great enemy of mature human relations. If people have a good sense of self, they are better disposed to relate with other adults as equals. Where this does not hap-pen, an individual either too easily defers to others even in matters that need assertiveness, or reacts aggressively in subtle passive ways instead of clear self-expression. Low self-esteem also leads to feelings of envy, which can constitute a real obstacle to genuine caring regard and goodwill towards other people. Prejudice, misinterpreting deeds and intentions. Prejudice is a negative prejudgment of individuals or a whole group. It can lead one to irrational and hostile behavior towards them. When people's way of seeing things is prejudiced or biased, they view other people and their intentions in a distorted way, and can hardly avoid relating to them distortedly. The flow of commu-nication becomes blocked. A similar dynamic is opera-tive in tribalism, ethnocentrism, and other forms of discrimination. One perceives others in a negative way and treats ,them in like manner. Unrealistic expectations. The well-known Indian Jesuit spiritual writer Anthony de Mello6 maintained that to be truly happy in life you should "have no expectation of anyone." This might sound weird or exaggerated. Some might be wondering, "How can I live without having expectations of people with whom I live?" I have come to value De Mello's advice. A great source of difficulty in interpersonal relationships is that we tend to have too '381 69.4 2010 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships Formators are challenged to take on the responsibility of dealing with their own issues first. high and often unrealistic expectations of other people. While it is good to have ideals and norms of expected behavior, our attitude towards persons in this regard is equally important. The Scriptures remind those who are strong to bear with the failings of the weak (Rm 15:1). But the question arises "Which of us is really strong?" Although we need to carry out our ministry diligently, the manner in which we do it is vital. It is better to be effective forma- . tors than just "efficient machines" that end up producing battered individuals for the Lord's vineyards. We shall come back to this point below, where we look at how to give feedback in a helpful way. Some psychological baggage. Each of us is a "strug-gling human being." Sometimes we struggle with unre-solved personality issues from our childhood and our families of origin. Some battle with a self-centeredness that unmindfully uses others for self-gratification, some have addictive behaviors, and some have difficulty feel-ing empathy for others. Others tend toward anxiety, harbor resentment of authority, or have deep-seated anger. Some have deficient social skills or problematic psychosexual issues. These difficulties can and do inter-fere in interpersonal relationships to various degrees. Formators are challenged to take on the responsibility of dealing with their own issues first. This will facilitate their relationship patterns in ministry so that they can functon more effectively and lovingly. Review for Religious Skills for Mature Relationships in Formation Growth in interpersonal relationships tends to point to maturity. It is equally a good indicator of openness to a good relationship with God. For instance, no one can say he or she loves God if the person detests fellow human beings. The following are some of the skills required for such mature human relations in formation: A prayerful and reflective way of life. "An unexamined life is not worth living," as Socrates said. It goes without saying that a reflective and discerning lifestyle is neces-saW for healthy living and good human relationships. People then are able to respond to others and to various situations instead of reacting to them. Self-awareness and acceptance. There is also the important value of self-awareness in interpersonal rela-tionships. Appropriate self-awareness helps much in cultivating good communication and relational skills. When people are more self-aware, the greater inner freedom they have to respond positively and maturely to people in various situations. Misunderstandings that often occur during conflicts can be more maturely dealt with. Recognizing and admitting their own motivations and personal struggles facilitates good relationships with others. It is not enough for formators to be commit-ted to the faith and to Christian discipleship and ready to give both spiritual and human assistance to others. They must also have begun vigorously their own jour-ney of self-understanding. They must be dealing with the major issues in their own life. Self-care. A healthy and integrated formation environ-ment is possible only with formators who are committed to fostering cordial relationships between themselves and those in their care. To be effective in their ministry, formators must also be taking care of their own physi- 69.4 2010 Ezeani * Cultivating Mature Relationships Mature interpersonal relations do require a degree of "dying toself.," 384 cal and spiritual needs. Such self-care should include days off for rest and reflection, along with friendship and companionship with others not under their care. "Many religious and clergy have discovered the hard way through burnout and various overdependencies that not attending to self-cai'e can have disastrous con-sequences.'' 7 From time to time, formators need some form of supervision and spiritual direction. Interaction with other formators can help them sustain the capac-ity to relate, with compassion and genuine interest, to those who are in formation. Trust and ability to be and work together. Interpersonal relations, whatever the context, always pose challenges. The work of formation includes training for trust and effective interpersonal communication. No matter the amount of expertise brought into the formation program, if we do not have social skills and the disposition to col-laborate with others, our efforts might bear very little fruit. Good relationships are not just about "assembling" and "being together." That is too simplis-tic. A .good "team" spirit and mutual respect are what is really needed. Mature people can safely count on each other in appropriate interdependence. They can dis-agree or differ in certain issues in a nonaggressive way, without undermining their respect for one another. Self-discipline. The .religious and priestly vocations are based on self-transcendence as the path to real self-fulfillment. Although, before Vatican II, forget.ring self Review for Religious to the point of near self-effacement was advocated, the pendulum swinging in the opposite direction can have an equally negative impact. Mature interpersonal rela-tions do require a degree of "dying to self." A measure of self-renunciation and discipline for the common good is important. Nonviolent communication. Good communication skills are indispensable in the work of accompanying others in their religious lives. This accompaniment consists in more than verbal teaching of values. To be effective, teaching is to be done by example. In teaching people to be respectful of others, teachers must model respect for others in their very manner of communica-tion. In his book Non-violent Communication, Marshall B. Rosenberg8 offers some tips on how to deal with others in harmonious, nonviolent, and nonthreatening ways. He does this under several headings. 1) What we are seeing/observing: First we need to be aware of what we are seeing or observing in another and to communicate that instead of offering our own judgment, our own interpretation of other persons' actions. Keeping observed facts separate from our judg-ments helps towards clear communication. Describing what we have observed, rather than judging it, respects others in our interpersonal relationships. Judgments can easily be wrong. An example of confusing observation with judgment is the following: Saying "Nigerians are proud" instead of saying "I met a Nigerian sister taking the same course who did not talk much to me." 2) What we are feeling: According to Rosenberg, our feelings are the door to our inner world. They tell us whether what is happening is wh~ t we desire or not. To be in touch with our feelings is to be in touch with our inner world. Alienated from our feelings, we 69.4 2010 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships 386 are alienated from our values. For example, if I simply express how I feel about what I have observed instead of expressing a judgment, others respond to me better. We need to be present to our real feelings and express them clearly to others. People sometimes avoid awareness of their real feelings by merely using the word "feel" and then following it with more of a thought than a feeling. They say: "I feel I am right," words that speak more of what I think than how I feel. Other such thought-filled "feelings" are "I feel inadequate" or "I feel misunder-stood." As judgments, they may be right or wrong, but they express thought more than feeling. 3) What we are thinking or what we value: What we value contributes to our feeling and may affect com-munication. Our feelings may result less from what we observe than from the meaning we attribute to it. When I fail to be aware of the meaning that contributes to my feeling, I may be blind to the cultural programming I bring into communication situations. Then, instead of constructively saying "I felt hurt when you did not ask me to go along with you," I might say, unhelpfully, "When you did not ask me to go along with you, I felt hurt because it showed your rejection of me." 4) What we are requesting: When we make our requests to others in positive-action language, we have a better chance of a good response. It is not enough to be sure of what you do not want; you should know what you want. When you make a request, ask specifically for what you desire the person to do for you. Avoid vague requests like these: "I want you to accept me as I am," "I want you to respect my rights," "I want some understanding," "I want you to be more cooperative." Instead, make specific requests in more positive words: "I like it when you call me, but once a day is enough" Review for Religious instead of "I don't want you phoning me every day"; or "Please keep the knife in the kitchen" instead of "Is this the place to keep the knife?" Learning to communicate with one another in these ways can greatly enhance the quality of relationships. Giving Helpful Feedback to Those in Formation There is no doubt that good communication pat-terns are the heartbeat of human relationships. Hence the manner in which feedback is done is crucial. Feedback, not correction. Many readers may be famil-iar with the Johari window. It indicates, among other things, that there are aspects of ourselves known to oth-ers but not to us. It suggests that every human being needs some form of feedback or "reflecting back" from others in order to grow. Formation programs seek to provide such feedback regularly for those in training for the priestly and religious life. How this is done is important. First in importance is to have deep respect for people. Second is attentive listening. The purpose of the feedback given to persons in formation is to foster in them an awareness that will help them to truly inter-nalize Christ's values. Formators need to be fully aware of that purpose. In addition, they need to be in touch with their own motives for giving the feedback. A variety of motives may be operating. Here are some: (1) care, concern, and love. (2) respect. (3) empathy for the other person's perspective. (4) intimidation, to instill fear. (5) a sense of "duty." (6) a sense of superiority ("I know it all" or "I know better"). (7) a sense of power. Feedback achieves its aim when it comes from motives 1, 2, and 3 above. It does not achieve its aim if it comes from any motive from 4 through 7. Our manner of giving feedback ought to be mod- 69.4 2010 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships 38'8 eled on the values of Christ, and it should illilstrate them. Otherwise it could do damage rather than help. The capacity to offer and receive good feedback greatly enhances relationships. It helps people to care for one another and enlighten one another. What does it profit if feedback only puts out the light in other persons or makes them think they are no good? Feedback should help others find and tap the positive resources that are already within them. I shall end this article with a story of an old rabbi and his disciple. One day the disciple called on the Master confessing, "Master, when I study or join oth-ers in great feasts, I feel a strong sense of light and life. But when it's over, it's all gone. Everything dies in me." After some moments of thoughtfulness, the old rabbi raised his head and, looking lovingly at the youth, replied: "Ah, yes, of course. 'It is just this feeling that happens when people walk alone through a wood at night. If another comes along with a lantern, they can walk safely and joyfully together. But, if they come to a crossroad and the one with the lantern departs, then the other must go on alone, carrying the light inside." This is what mature relationships can help people do. Notes 1 D.G. Myers, Social Psychology, 7th ed. (Boston: McGraw-Hill College, 1999), p. 168. 2 E. Erikson, Childhood and Society. (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1950), 1963, pp. 263-265. 3 L.C. Wynne, "The Epigenesis of Relational Systems: A Model for Understanding Family Development," Family Process 23, no. 3 (1984): 298. 4 E. Fried, "Basic Concepts in Group Psychotherapy," in H. Kaplan and B. Sadock (eds.), Comprehensive Group Psychotherapy (Baltimore: Williams & Wilkins, 1971), pp. 55-56. Review for Religious s Kevin McClone, "Intimacy and Healthy Affective Maturity- Guidelines for Formation," Human Development 30, no. 4 (Winter 2009): 5-13. 6 Anthony de Mello, Awareness (London: HarperCollins, 1990), pp. 6-8, 31-32, 50-55. In his writings he often said we should not put such burdens of expectation and dependence on them, for it results in stifling both them and us. 7 McClone, "Intimacy," p. I0. 8 M.B. Rosenberg, Non-violent Communication: A Language of Life (Encinitas, California: PuddleDancer Press, 2003), pp. 25-102. Word Made Flesh At the tnidnight hour when the world is asleep, you are born in a hovel for donkey and sheep. We wander in from hills of unaware, valleys of apathy, deserts of despair to gaze on you in dulnbstruck awe - Lamb of God sleeping on borrowed straw. Irene Zimmerman OSF 69.4 2010 DANIEL J. HEISEY Operatic Discernment of a Vocation Ion September 2009, the Metropolitan Opera pened its season with a controversial production of Giacomo Puccini's Tosca. When it was first staged, in January 1900, Puccini had sought realistic detail in set and costume, part of what is known in opera as verismo. A little over a century later, the Met's new version took liberties that drove the audience to boo.1 Whatever vision the director follows when staging this opera, there will be in act 2 a moving aria sung by Floria Tosca herself, "Vissi d'arte," in which she prays to God and begs to know why her faith is rewarded with suffering. It is a perennial plea, well known to or awaiting every Christian. For fellow believers, not only is Tosca's pain familiar, but also, perhaps, the weakened will and darkened intellect that complicate her spiritual life. Unfortunately, sharing in Tosca's anguished prayer tends to be beyond the ordinary routine of English- Daniel J. Heisey OSB is a monk of Saint Vincent Archabbey, where he is known as Brother Bruno and where the address is 300 Fraser Purchase Road; Latrobe, Pennsylvania 15650. Review for Religious speaking Christians. Moreover, Tosca is often classified as "anticlerical," especially in contrast to Puccini's more obviously religious opera Suor Angelica.2 In what fol-lows, staying basically within the Puccini style, we will look at two operatic works by Gian Carlo Menotti, The Saint of Bleecker Street and Amahl and the Night Visitors, to explore ways that opera in English can help with the discernment of a religious vocation. Menotti's use of English makes more accessible the religious themes of these two operas, especially when one contemplates what place opera can have in voca-tional discernment. The Saint of Bleecker Street won the Pulitzer Prize and has been called "strong and realist, yet plainly on the side of the angels,''3 and Amahl and the Night Visitors, meant to be staged at Christmas, retains its warm place in Christian hearts. Moreover, opera has its roots in the baroque world of 17th-century western Europe, the world of the cultural efflorescence known as the Counter-Reformation. A magnificent baroque opera house, with the florid emotions it stages, welcomes spec-tators much as a vast Gothic cathedral engulfs worship-ers. Both, as one historian has observed, enshrine "the only splendor in their lives.''4 Whereas the celebration of the Eucharist is the central "drama," so to speak, in a cathedral, in opera--in Menotti's operas at least--one may find signs pointing one to a renewed appreciation of the Priest, Victim, and Host of that sacrificial ban-quet. We will look at The Saint of Bleecker Street and Amahl and the Night Visitors together, as if they were antiphonal choirs forming a composite work. Menotti's "The Saint" Despite his prodigious and prolific work, Menotti is sometimes dismissed as secondhand and second-rate ,391 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation During a career spanning seven decades, Menotti seems to have reached his creative and popular height in the 1950s. Puccini, but he is worthy of study in his own right,s Born in northern Italy in 1911, he studied music in Milan and there met Arturo Toscanini, who advised Menotti's parents to send the boy to the United States for further training in composition. After studying at Philadelphia's Curtis Institute, Menotti moved to New York City. A resdess and energetic man, he traveled widely, establish-ing the Festival of Two Worlds, operatic centers at Spoleto, Italy, and Charleston, South Carolina. In 1974 he bought an estate in Scotland; in early 2007 he died in Monaco. His operas, as with any good opera, convey their message by means of the music, and so they must be at least heard if not seen. Here on the printed page, we must content ourselves with verbal description and passages from the libretti. During a career spanning seven decades, Menotti seems to have reached his creative and popular height in the 1950s. By 1955 he had appeared on the cover of Time magazine, had received two Pulitzer prizes, and was celebrated in London, Milan, and Paris. Although he preferred not to use the term, he wrote verismo operas in English, the first to concern us here being his Saint of Bleecker Street (1954). Its plot is simple. A young woman in New York's "Litde Italy" neighborhood wants to become a nun, and her brother tries to stop her. She has the support of friends and her parish priest, Don Review for Religious Marco, who faces much of the brother's wrath. In the end she makes her vows as a religious, but at a price. It must be said that the young woman, Annina, is not the usual candidate for religious life. She is chronically and, as it happens, terminally ill. She has a deep prayer life, each Good Friday having visions of the Passion and receiving the stigmata. As with more usual candidates, her attraction to religious life has consequences familiar to many who are discerning such a vocation. Her broth-er's opposition, impetuous and irrational to the point of physical violence, carries verisimilitude. Likewise, Don Marco's role as gentle yet firm shepherd rings true. He must comfort and console her, and he must confront and contradict the brother, Michele. He is an angry young man, his life shown to be at odds with most of the virtues, and he demands the priest tell him if he believes in Annina's visions. At this point Don Marco tells Michele, "A priest is not a judge but only a guide.''6 Of course, nothing anyone can say makes Michele see a point of view other than his own. Michele and Annina are adult orphans and share an apartment, from which he is frequently absent for work or for his girlfriend. When Annina receives her annual stigmata, neighbors flock to the apartment, causing in Michele an explosion of jealousy. As he furiously drives them from the flat, the scene is an inversion of Jesus driving the money-changers from the temple. When, at the wedding reception of friends, Michele ends up shedding blood, it is a grotesque distortion of the wed-ding at Cana. As Annina moves closer to God, her life fills with these stumbling blocks, twisted 'scenes from the life of Christ. Her brother becomes a hindrance in a more literal sense. Act 2 of the opera ends with a religious proces- 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation sion, thus providing a parallel with the end of the act 1 of Tosca. But, whereas the main characters in Tosca reverently let it pass, Michele tries to stop Annina from participating in the procession. This already frustrated man finds himself restrained by the faithful, who then accompany Annina and join the procession. Again, persons discerning a religious vocation will recognize that sometimes they have more support from folks they scarcely know than from their own family. Part of Annina's cross is thus her brother's boorish and self-absorbed behavior. He challenges her search for God and her desire to become a spouse of Christ. Michele rails against a decision he deems abnormal and reduces her sense of religious vocation to the delusions brought on by illness. He pleads that he needs her and must not lose her to her God. Annina tries in vain to show him how she sees the situation. She tells him, "No one can ever be lost who wanders, searching for God.''7 In her argument with her brother, she explains why she wants to take the veil, putting it in terms of love, the exclusive love of man and woman in a sacramental bond. Michele dismisses her explanation as that of a simple-minded child, and he asks her why God would choose her out of the whole human race. "Perhaps because I love Him," she answers. When he counters that she is speaking as though she loved a human being, she replies, "How else can I love Him since I am human?''8 For Michele, whose approach to love is to use another's body for his own indulgence, such explanations are out-side his experience and therefore meaningless. One lesson any Christian must learn is that in Christ one loves a person, not an idea. Michele can see Annina's desire for union with Christ only as a rejection of him-self. For him, her love for Christ has made God his rival; Review for Religious Michele's own love for Annina bursts forth as hatred for God. Within their neighborhood, which might as well be a village or small town, these impassioned disputes between brother and sister, and between brother and priest, make this opera a story about relationships--and in the end a religious vocation is about one's relationship with family and friends as well as with God. While not referring to The Saint of Bleecker Street by name, Dame Kiri Te Kanawa could well have been describing it when she said that opera explores and illustrates "love, duty, temptation, moral-ity, and strength of character in a closely confined society.''9 In that restricted environment, a small family in an old-fash-ioned ethnic neigh-borhood, Annina falls in love with God and desires to dedicate her life to Him. Menotti's opera shows us a moral struggle, strength of character set amidst ques-tions of duty and love. In short, here we see the basic ingredients of any man or woman's story of discerning a call to religious life. One lesson any Christian must learn is that in Christ one loves a person, not an idea. Menotti's "Amahl" Although Annina does not reveal her vision of the Lord she loves, Menotti gives us a glimpse of Him in another opera, Amahl and the Night Visitors. It has the distinction of being the first opera written for televi-sion, first airing live on Christmas Eve, 1951, on NBC. Whereas the setting for The Saint is the austere inte-rior of a poor apartment building in 1950s Manhattan, 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation 396 Amahl gets its setting from a painting, Hieronymus Bosch's Adoration of the Magi. Menotti had seen it in the Metropolitan Museum of Art and decided that Amahl, a lame shepherd boy, and his widowed mother would live in a decrepit hut somewhere on the way to Bethlehem at the time of Christ, but the stage set and the costumes would be anachronistic, capturing the Renaissance styles of the 15th century. Defying historical accuracy in this way suggests the magical realm of the fairy tale, a level of universal ideals that transcend recorded time. On a cold starry night a poor boy and his mother receive into their home three enigmatic kings and through selfless generosity are graced with a miracle. When it was first produced, Amahl was highly acclaimed, its popularity with critics and audiences assur-ing its repetition each Christmas for ten years. Amahl "isn't sacred music," one recent critic has written, but it is "the modern equivalent of a medieval mystery play.''1° Whether on television or on stage, there have been many other productions of this opera, leading an evangelical magazine to call it "a moving piece of modern American mythology, unfailingly powerful.''11 Let us reflect upon the power of that myth for vocational discernment. One winter's evening Amahl and his mother become unprepared hosts of the Magi as they follow the star to Bethlehem. Menotti draws upon his boyhood memories of the Italian custom at Christmas of men dressed as the Three Kings going round one's town or village and visiting homes in order to bring gifts to the children.!2 Amahl, attracted by Kaspar's caged pet parrot, has an exchange with that King, a duet meant to be comic, but in these days, after the priest scandals with teenage boys, it becomes creepy. After more than fifty years, the opera's innocence has been tarnished. Still, the viewer Review for Religious must try to see it in the spirit of its time and from that perspective learn from its intended message. When Amahl is out of earshot, Melchior carries on a dialogue with the mother. Melchior, a baritone, embodies solemnity, and in that conversation one sees from two angles the object of the Magi's search (and so also of Annina's love). In response to the mother's ques-tions about the mission of the Magi, Melchior asks her, "Have you seen a child the color of wheat, the color of dawn? His eyes are mild, his hands are those of a king, as king he was born," and then asks her, "Have you seen a child the color of earth, the color of thorn? His eyes are sad, his hands are those of the poor, as poor he was born." 13 These contrasting descriptions of the One sought by the Magi reflect the ineffable facets of Christ, and yet the mother recognizes Him. She sees Him first in her own son, but at last, when the Magi depart, she sends Amahl along with them to seek the Child. Once he finds the. Child, Amahl is to give Him thanks and praise for the miracle granted to the crippled boy. Here again the man or woman discerning a religious vocation may see parallels, a parent bravely yet tearfully letting go of a beloved son or daughter who wants to join strangers in the search for God. Catholic critics had accolades for Amahl and for The Saint. Interestingly, none of them considered the place either could have in encouraging vocations to religious life. For example, The Saint of Bleecker Street's "poetic truth," according to Commonweal, "is large and profound," bridging "the alien worlds of pure faith and destructive reason.''~4 Another Catholic magazine noted that the opera had the "stark realism of the Old Testament," with violent obsessions, open religious fer- 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation vor, and sexuality barely beneath the surface, yet these extremes of emotion "are more than balanced by scenes of reverence, even exaltation, and instances of touching human affection.''i5 In the secular press, contemporary critical reactions to The Saint ranged from dismissing it with words like "nonsense" and "bogus,''16 to apprecia-tive appraisals, one quoting Menotti saying, "Whatever you believe, all men know that the love of God is incor-ruptible.''~ 7 Here a word may be in order regarding Menotti's own struggle with belief. Menotti and Belief As a boy Menotti was lame, and he was taken to a Marian shrine, Madonna del Monte, where he received a blessing and was cured.18 As a result, throughout his life he remained fascinated by saints and miracles. Even when he fell away from the church, he believed in God and wrestled with questions of faith. In the early 1950s, when he was mulling over The Saint of Bleecker Street, he decided he needed to meet a saint, so he went to Italy to see Padre Pio. He. attended a morning Mass offered by Padre Pio and then was allowed to meet with him in the friary. After having heard about the priest's uncanny insights and deep spiritual gifts, Menotti was deflated when Padre Pio's counsel amounted to what any priest anywhere could have advised: "God gives you a gift, and you must compose the right music in honor of God." 19 Menotti's disappointment at the seemingly banal words from the holy man echoes that of Naaman the Syrian (2 K 5). The leprous Syrian is told by the prophet Elisha to wash seven times in the River Jordan, a rem-edy that strikes the afflicted man as being too simple and something he could have done back home. It can Review for Religious happen that someone discerning a call to religious life will visit a monastery or religious house and find the daily routine devoid of the heroic penances the idealistic inquirer sometimes imagines necessary. A wise direc-tor, a Don Marco, perhaps, will point out that the daily routine of community life, with its Eucharistic liturgy and the Liturgy of the Hours, will provide sufficient penances. As an adult, Menotti seems not to have partaken often of any of the sacraments of the church, and his ongoing doubts about his faith found expression in his operas, most clearly in The Saint.2° At ninety he spoke about his long interior dialogue with the God whose creed he found difficult to believe in. Musing upon the questions God asked him, he said, "That's the trouble, . . . because I don't know what to answer.''2~ One would be hard put to find a more concise summary of the inner turbulence faced by some men and women discerning a religious calling. Of course, artists working with religious subjects need not be religious people themselves, but often their work arises'from "a collaboration" between the artist and "the religious community of which he is a participating member.''2z Menotti, like Puccini, grew up immersed in the Catholic culture of northern Italy, and both men grappled with that culture when creating their operatic worlds. Part of their struggle derived from their lives within the secular culture of fame and fortune. Puccini, though, unlike Menotti, was close friends with his par- "God gives you a gift, and you must compose the right music in honor of God." 399 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation 4oo.1 ish priest, a former army chaplain who loved music.23 As this essay has argued, noble music and revealed religion can complement one another, in particular when a man or woman is discerning a religious vocation. Liberated Imagination--and Faith Charles Moore has hailed opera's ability to "liberate the imagination," and he rejoiced in its "discerning. the basic rhythms of human hopes, fears, and desires.''z4 The value of opera for vocational discernment is in its ability to show us another dimension to the human experience. As with other performances in the theater or on film, one must willingly suspend disbelief when watching an opera; that suspension is even greater in opera, for what would otherwise be spoken dialogue or soliloquies are sung. Such suspending of disbelief leaves behind the normal routines we accept as ordinary real-ity and exposes us to distilled human passions. Whether those passions are those of a Tosca or an Annina, an Amahl or a Melchior, they may transport us to a height from which we may see more clearly the way to respond to the call to holiness. Let us look again at Tosca in contrast to Annina. Meant to be larger than life, Puccini's character of Floria Tosca is a famous opera singer in Rome, and the opera bearing her name opens in June of 1800 in a side chapel of Rome's baroque church of Sant' Andrea della Valle. Tosca's beloved, an artist who reads Voltaire, is painting an image of St. Mary Magdalene, and nearby is a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Tosca, a pious narcissist, makes a grand entrance and lays a bouquet at the feet of the Virgin. When she realizes that the model for the Magdalene is the sister of a Napoleonic revolu-tionary, her jealousy flares up. Such radical associations Review for Religious snare Tosca and her lover in a nightmarish entangle-ment with a corrupt police force. Both are arrested and found guilty without a trial. When interrogated and tormented by Baron Scarpia, the lecherous and sadistic chief of police, Tosca sings of her.faith being rewarded with suffering, but part of her suffering is self-inflicted. She has been devout and gen-erous, it is true, but she has a rationalist for a boyfriend and expects deference because of her fame as a singer. Her heart is divided, always a path to tragedy. Tosca, unlike Mary Magdalene, has not had her demons cast out; rather, they pursue her to a fatal end. In stark contrast to the vain and worldly Tosca, Annina appears as a model of humility. Her faith opens her to suffering, which she bears for her Beloved. Menotti shows Annina wholly dedicated to seeking God and being united to Him, and she must face a brother whose unexamined fear and carnal desires become masks for the false god of the self. Tosca offers flowers to the Virgin, but Annina shares the Virgin Mary's openness to God's call. Like Mary Magdalene, Annina would be willing to sit by the empty tomb, staring into the abyss where He had been. A :nan or woman facing the possibility of a religious vocation must be aware of the Tosca within each of us, while desiring to grow into something of an Annina. The call to be a religious is the Holy Spirit first beckoning and then giving the grace to yearn to see that there is more to life than creature comforts and the cheers of the crowd. Menotff shows Annina wholly dedicated to seeking God and being united to Him 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation One way of understanding the verismo genre used by Puccini and Menotti is to see it as "concerned with common people and their preoccupations, rather than the trials and passions of aristocrats.''25 On one level, Tosca is about two lovers caught in the middle of politi-cal turmoil; on another, as we have seen, it is about a woman of faith in profound crisis. Menotti's operas discussed here are about simple people caught off guard by the arrival in their lives of the Son of God. From studying the history of the church, one learns that such complications occur in the lives of aristocrats and com-mon people as well. Opera, likewise the realm of all who are open to its riches, can help an aspiring religious see anew the gospel call to seek the One who is dawn and earth, wheat and thorn, poverty and royalty, all in all. Notes ' Daniel J. Wakin, "For Opening Night at the Metropolitan, a New Sound: Booing," New York Times (23 September 2009), p. C- 5; David Patrick Stearns, "Boos for the Met's New 'Tosca' Weren't Off-base," Philadelphia Inquirer (24 September 2009), p. D-l; see also Alex Ross, "Fiasco," New Yorker (5 October 2009): 84-85. 2 See John Anthony Davis, "The Political and Cultural Worlds of Puccini's Tosca," in Tosca's Prism: Three Moments in Western Cultural History, ed. Deborah Burton et al. (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 2005), pp. 135-144; Susan Vandiver Nicassio, "The Eternal Politics of Tosca," in Tosca's Prism, pp. 249-252; H. Wendell Howard, "Suor Angelica: Puccini's Catholic Opera," Logos 1 (Fall 1998): 94- 103. 3 Charles Reid, "Gian-Carlo Menotti," Tablet (20 October 1956): 319. 4 John Lukacs, "A Night at the Dresden Opera," New Yorker (17 March, 1986): 100; reprinted in Remembered Past, ed. Mark G. Malvasi and Jeffrey O. Nelson (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2005), p. 457. s See John Gruen, Menotti: A Biography (New York: Macmillan, 1978); of the numerous obituaries, see E Paul Driscoll, "Gian Carlo Menotti," Opera News (April 2007): 88. For The Saint of Bleecker Review for Religious Street and Tosca, see Barry Singer, "Changing Fortunes," Opera News 0uly 2007): 50. 6 Gian Carlo Menotti, The Saint of Bleecker Street (New York: G. Schirmer, 1954), act 1, scene 1, p. 14. 7 Menotti, The Saint, act 1, scene 2, p. 23. 8 Menotti, The Saint, p. 22. 9 Kiri Te Kanawa, with Conrad Wilson, Opera for Lovers (London: Headline, 1996), pp. 140-141. ,0 Steve Smith, "A Young Shepherd's Ageless Trek," New York Times (17 December 2007), p. E-5. ~ "Christmas Music," Christian Century (4-17 December 2002): 37. ~2 John Gruen, Menotti, p. 108. ~3 Gian Carlo Menotti, Amahl and the Night Visitors (New York: G. Schirmer, 1951), pp. 20-21. ~4 Richard Hayes, "The Saint of Bleecker Street," Commonweal (4 February 1955): 477. ~s Theophilus Lewis, "Theatre," America (22 January 1955): 434. ~6 Harold Clurman, "Theater," Nation (22 January 1955): 83- 84. ,7 "Successful Saint," Time (10 January 1955): 42; see Irving Kolodin, "Menotti's 'The Saint of Bleecker Street,'" Saturday Review (8 January 1955): 28; Winthrop Sargeant, "Menotti's New Opera," New Yorker (8 January 1955): 74-76; "A Saint Sings in Menotti's Best," Life (14 February 1955): 62-63. 's John Gruen, Menotti, p. 109; see Robert R. Reilly, "Gian Carlo Menotti's Heavenly Muse," Crisis (May 2001): 38. 19 Reilly, "Heavenly Muse," Crisis (May 2001): 39; see Gruen, Menotti, pp. 120-122 and 131. 20 See Gruen, Menotti, p. 166. 2~ Reilly, "Heavenly Muse," Crisis (May 2001): 38. 22 Michael Linton, "Moses at the Met," First Things 98 (December 1999): 15. 23 See Dante Del Fiorentino, Immortal Bohemian: An Intimate Memoir of Giacomo Puccini (New York: Prentice-Hall, 1952); Jane Phillips, "Puccini and the Priest," Opera News (12 March 1951): 26-28; Mary Jane Phillips-Matz, Puccini: A Biography (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 2002), pp. 258-259. 403 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation 24 Charles Moore, "The Fantastic Power of Opera to Fly Free," Daily Telegraph (21 July 2009): 19. 25 Johanna Fiedler, Molto Agitato: The Mayhem Behind the Music at the Metropolitan Opera (New York: Doubleday, 2001), p. 79; see Joseph Volpe, with Charles Michener, The Toughest Show on Earth: My Rise and Reign at the Metropolitan Opera (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2006), p. 167: "The characters aren't gods or monsters, they're people caught up in the moral and political issues of their time." Personal Reflection [ Group Discussion 1. What are the ways or method that I have used in making a discerned decision? 2. How has Heisey in using opera as a help in discerning given me new ways of entering into discernment? 404] Review for Religious JAMES H. KROEGER Searching for Jesus at Christmas Once or twice a year, usually around the season of Christmas or Easter, many news-papers and popular newsmagazines (Time or Newsweek) present an article on some aspect of Jesus or the Judaeo-Christian faith. Often these features try to pique readers' interest by using attention-grabbing headlines. They ask: What is the true Christmas Story? Why did Jesus have to die? How do Jews, Muslims, and Buddhists view Jesus? Who was the real Jesus? Often the articles claim to provide new and recent discoveries into the person and identity of Jesus. Believing Christians can read these presen-tations with interest, but they should realize lighting the way James H. Kroeger MM, a Maryknoll missioner, has served in Asia (Philippines and Bangladesh), since his 1970 arrival in the Orient. Currently he teaches at the Pontifical Faculty of Theology at Loyola School of Theology of the Ateneo de Manila University as well as at the Mother of Life Catechetical Center. He can be reached at: 68.4 2009 Kroeger ¯ Searcbing for Jesus at Christmas that such popular portrayals of Jesus will probably add little insight into their knowledge and practice of the faith. One need not be alarmed by these magazine arti-cles. Actually, the popularity of such material shows the continuing interest on a broad public scale in the person and mission of Jesus. Also, as adult believers, we admit that we do have many recurring questions about Jesus and his meaning for our lives and for the life of the world. Where can we and should we look for answers to our questions? Where should we search? At this point, I offer a word of disclosure, telling you who I am. Thus, what I write in this presentation, which will explore some difficult questions, will be anchored into a solid foundation. I am a man of faith, a Catholic priest, serving in the Philippines for four decades. I have taught Christology [theology of the person and mission of Jesus Christ] for over thirty years in several schools of theology, major seminaries, and catechetical centers. My personal library contains well over one hundred books on Christology, and I have published numerous articles and books on the subject. In short, I write as a believer, a man of the church. Beginning the Search For Christians, the primary written source of faith in the person of Jesus is sacred scripture, the Gospels in particular. We rely on four books included in the New Testament: the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Just about everything that the Christian church teaches about J~sus comes through the Gospels. These Gospels, in turn, serve as a criterion of truth and authenticity for the church's teaching about Jesus. Because the Gospels are the central sources for understanding Jesus, one has to ask: What is a Gospel? Review for Religious Parenthetically, readers will note that before addressing specific questions about Jesus, it is necessary to exam-ine some general foundations upon which our faith is based. "Gospel" derives from Old English meaning "good spell/news"; this translates the Greek eu (good) and angelion (news, announcement). As "good news" the Gospels communicate the message of God's saving action in Christ and the accounts of Jesus' activity pro-duced by the early church. A Gospel is a very unique kind of written literature; it is a genre of writing that is different from other liter-ary forms. Thus, a Gospel is not simply a "biography" in the modern sense of that term (a detailed account of someone's life); it is also not "history" in the sense of a chronological presen-tation of a series of events. Yet, the Gospels contain both bio-graphical and historical elements. However, Gospels are written from another perspective and with another motive in mind. Simply, a Gospel can be described as a "faith sum-mary." Gospels contain material that will lead readers to know and love--in faith--the person of Jesus. This means that biographical and historical materials are at the service of the primary purpose of the Gospels: com- ¯ ing to a loving knowledge and experience of Jesus. The Gospels aim to help us in knowing and encountering Jesus personally, not just knowing many factual details about him. Another simple way to express the nature of the Gospels is to accept that they were written "from faith to faith." The Gospels emerged from the living faith of Simply, a Gospel can, be described as a "faith summary. " 407 69.4 2010 Kroeger * Searching for Jesus at Christmas 408 the evangelists and the early church. They were written to faith, to engender and strengthen the faith of believers. The evangelists (Gospel writers) did not intend to sup-ply every detail about the life of Jesus; rather, they chose to include those stories which would best serve the "promotion of the faith." At heart, Gospels are "proc-lamation not biography or history." This insight is well expressed, by:John the Evangelist: "There were many other signs that Jesus worked and the disciples saw, but they are not recorded in this book. These are recorded so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing this you may have life through his name" On 20:30-31). Composing Gospels Related to the nature and purpose of the Gospels, questions may arise about how and when the Gospels were written. Here the Catholic Church has provided solid guidance on the actual "writing process," explaining the "coming-to-be" of the four Gospels that we accept as the inspired Word of God. Again, this background material will serve to anchor our many "Christmas-time questions" about the person of Jesus, questions which will be addressed in the later part of this presentation. Christians believe that the authors of the Bible (both Old and New Testaments) were inspired, or guided, by the Holy Spirit. According to Roman Catholic theol-ogy, this does not mean that God spoke to the bib-lical authors directly, as one might dictate a letter to a secretary. Neither did the evangelists have modern equipment such as a tape recorder to capture the verba-tim words of Jesus. Rather, our church holds that these inspired texts are writings whose authors, prompted by the Holy Spirit, convey God's revealed truth using their Review for Religious own abilities, words, and styles. This is clearly evident in each of the four Gospels; for example, John's literary style differs from that of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. In short, scripture contains "God's Word in human words." God is the ultimate author of the scriptures; the truth that God conveys in and through them is reliable; we can securely build our faith upon these written scrip-tures as they are interpreted within the faith community of the church. It is this same Catholic Church that encourages the use of historical-critical scholarship to better pen-etrate the full meani.ng . of God's Word. Since ' ~ the 1943 magna carta of Catholic biblical schol-arship (Divino Afflante Spiritu), scripture stud-ies have flourished in the church--all to the benefit of believers. The church encourages . its biblical scholars and theologians to employ "scien-tific" approaches to delve deeper into the full meaning of God's revealed message in the scriptures. The church accepts that the Gospels are, in fact, not literal, chronological accounts of the words and deeds of Jesus. Our Gospels are the products of a faith-devel-opment !n early Christianity. They emerged through a three-stage process that moves (a) from the ministry and oral preaching of Jesus, (b) through the oral preaching of the apostles, and (c) finally to the actual writing of the Gospels as we know them. This understanding is echoed in the revelation document coming from the Second Vatican Council. This fact does not imply in any Our Gospels are the products of a faith-development in early Christianity. 69.4 2010 Kroeger ¯ Searcbing for ~esus at Christmas sense that the Gospels are not reliable sources. Today it is generally accepted that the Gospels were written in this order: Mark (60s), Matthew and Luke (70s-80s), and John (90s). Are Gospels Historical? Although there are difficult questions that do not admit of easy, brief answers, we must, in order to pro-mote our faith, struggle to respond to them. On the question of the historical nature of the Gospels [this will directly affect our understanding of the Christmas stories], we can get help by using two German words that give us insight into the nature of history. History can validly be understood through two dif-ferent, yet interrelated, perspectives. Historisch (his-torical) designates the facts of the past that can be demonstrated by documents and critically analyzed by the methods of scientific history. Geschichtlich (historic) refers to the same event(s) but focuses on the signifi-cance and importance of that fact for a certain group of people. In simpler language, historisch focuses on the plain historical data [what happened], whereas geschicht-lich seeks its deeper significance [what meaning does it have]. Some simple examples may prove helpful. As a mis-sionary in the Philippines for forty years, there are sev-eral dates that are important for me (and all Filipinos), but they would have no significance--even for. my own siblings who live in the United States. For Filipinos, 30 December 1896, is significant; it is the death of Jose Rizal, our national hero. The proclamation of Martial Law happened on 21 September 1972--with grave con-sequences for Filipinos. Ninoy Aquino was assassinated on 21 August 1983; the EDSA (Epifanio de Los Santos Review for Religious Avenue, Quezon City, Manila) "people-power" revolu-tion unfolded in 22-25 February 1986; Cory Aquino died on 1 August 2009. Most Filipinos know these dates almost instinctively. Yet, these same events would not be remembered by someone from Italy, Canada, or Indonesia. Here we see the importance and difference between historisch and geschichtlich. The historical facts and dates I have just mentioned are true, factual history. However, they have special meaning and importance only for Filipinos; they are seared into the consciousness of the Filipino peo-ple. While true facts of history, they mean little or nothing to non-Filipinos. Similarly, the Gospels have significant meaning--but only for believing Christians. Evangelists: Pastoral Theologians Moving back to our discussion of the Gospels, we come to appreciate that the evangelists were not pri-marily interested in presenting a detailed historical chronology of Jesus' life; nor were they interested in providing a comprehensive biography of Jesus and his family. The Gospel writers focused primarily on pre-senting the importance and meaning of Jesus for believ-ing Christians. Thus, while not denying or falsifying the historisch (historical data and facts), the main interest of the Gospels is to show the geschichtlich (significance) of this man Jesus for us and for our salvation. The Gospel writers focused primarily on promoting faith in Jesus; that is why the Gospels are not primarily history or biography. They are "faith summaries"; they are written based on the evangelists' faith with the purpose that we too would come to faith in Jesus. To achieve this goal of "faith promotion," each evan-gelist shaped his Gospel differently. Matthew, writing for 411 69.4 2010 Kroeger * Searching for Jesus at Cbristmas Jewish Christians, often demonstrates by the use of Old Testament quotations that the scriptures are fulfilled in the person and work of Jesus. Mark seeks to emphasize that Jesus is manifested as the crucified Messiah, fre-quently rejected by the people. Luke's Gospel is shaped by his religious mentality; he is a faithful recorder of Jesus' loving-kindness. The whole of John's thought is dominated by the mystery of the Incarnation. Each of the Gospels is unique and adopts varied theological emphases, while remaining focused on the person of Jesus. This was done so that the mes-sage of Jesus would bet- Each of theGospels is unique and adopts varied theological emphases, while remaining focused on the person of ]egus. ter reach the intended audience. In this sense, I call the evangelists "pastoral theologians,'~ because they pastorally shaped and focused their theological mes-sage with their audience in mind. Matthew, for example, quoted the Old Testament frequently so that his Jewish Christian audience would more easily come to faith in Jesus. Although we have four canoni-cal Gospels, they all coalesce to produce an integrated Gospel portrait of the person of Jesus. 412]

Issue 61.3 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Review for Religious helps people respond and be fait~hful to God?s universal call to holiness by making available tO them the spiritual legacies~ that flow from the charisms of Catholic consecrated life, Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org 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 Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for persQnal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. vie w for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ MAY JUNE 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 3 contents 23O spiritual growth Transformative Aspects of Spirituality George A. Maloney SJ emphasizes the need for us to rediscover the personal, interrelational, triune creator God and thereby find a spiritual renewal in our Christian practices of prayer and asceticism. 242 St. Alphonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction Dennis J. Billy CSSR examines St. Alphonsus's relevance as a "spiritual master" and identifies elements that people can use in their own practice of spiritual direction. 252 265 dialogue Louise de Marillac and Elizabeth Seton: Women of Spirit Anne Higgins DC and Betty Ann McNeil DC allow Louise de Marillac and Elizabeth Seton to speak out how their lives as wives, mothers, widows, and spiritual leaders model the life of the Spirit for contemporary women in ministry. From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation, from ASCs tO Adorers Regina Siegfried ASC traces the expansion and maturing of her own religious congregation's foundational charism, modeling for other congregations how to discover their still relevant and appropriate gift in contemporary society. Review for Religious 272 religious life culture Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commoness in Consecrated Life Deborah M. Cerullo SSND proposes ways of dealing with diversity and externalizing our new reality so that we sustain the distinctiveness that is religious life. 281 The Culture of Religious Life within Asian Culture Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR outlines some considerations that Asian religious need to observe when adapting to Asian culture, not merely fitting in but challenging the culture to conversion. 299 reflections Why Only Three Evangelical Counsels? Brendan Kneale FSC offers some new reasons to the traditional ones for our having three defining vows for consecrated life. He echoes Pope John Paul's challenge to clarify the anthropological significance of the counsels. 3O8 Religious Life Revisited Lucy Fuchs reflects on some aspects of religious life, with her reflections occasioned .by a fifty-year reunion of those wh.o stayed as religious and those who left. departments 228 Prisms 313 Canonical Counsel: Voluntary Departure 320 Book Reviews May-June 2002 prisms In several ways, known to us all, Christianity is a scandalous religion. The GreeE word skandalon means a small stone that causes one to trip or fall. "To scandalize," then, is to be a stone that, deliberately or not, causes another to fall. In the Old Testament, God is sometimes a scandal. By his manner of acting or not acting, especially in their times of exile, the Israelites see God as a scandal. The prophet Isaiah identifies God as the stone of scan-dal and the rock that causes the two houses of Israel to fall (Is 8:14). In the New Testament, we find this text of Isaiah applied to Christ in the first letter of Peter (1 P 2:8). Jesus is a scandal, a sign of contradiction against which people's hearts become hardened. Paul bluntly proclaimed that our preaching Christ crucified is "a scandal for the Jews and folly for the gentiles" (1 Co 1:23). If we place ourselves within a Buddhist or Muslim culture, we begin to realize how much a scan-dal the mysteries of the incarnation, the crucifixion, and the resurrection remain for people. God becom-ing man?--why would God ever want to do that? God dying shamefully as a criminal?--that is no reason-able or respectable idea of God. God being raised from the dead and. keeping a human body for eternity?-- that is too much even for those who like science fic-tion. Jesus Christ truly is a scandal. Just like the ubiquitous stones that cause us to trip .and fall, so Jesus knows that scandals in human life Review for Religious are inevitable. When at our best, we Christians in our good-ness will sometimes appear and even be scandalous to others. Our belief in Christ can scandalize. Perhaps our sacramental worship--eating and drinking the Body and Blood of Christ-- gives scandal. Franciscan poverty was a scandal to burghers of the 13th century. To some in the 16th century, there was scan-dal in Jesuits claiming to be religious but not singing the Divine Office and not having distinctive religious garb. Maybe 2 lst-century religious women serving the poor and needy on all sides of a civil conflict are a scandal. Just as Jesus himself is a scandal to certain people of his time, so "goodness" can be a scandal even within Christ's church. Like Jesus, we do not want our goodness to be a scandal to others so that their faith in God is shaken or their charity is lessened. While trying to avoid scan-dal in our doing good, we know ourselves to be part of a scan-dalous Christianity. But there is the dark side of scandal in Christianity. Jesus speaks harshly about those who deliberately cause another to fall into sin and to lose faith in God. "It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea., than that he should trip up a single one of these little ones" (Lk 17:2). Jesus had a sharp word for Peter, accusing Peter of trying "to trip him up" by saying the crucifixion should never have to happen (see Mt 16:23). The church in the United States is being buffeted by scan-dals centering on priests sexually abusing young people and on bishops for their lack of oversight. The stumbling blocks have been experienced not only by the victims, but also by many parishioners whose trust of the church and faith in God are undermined. Our human scandal, causing others to fall into evil or distance themselves from God, is a sin. Sin demands repen-tance, seeks God's forgiveness and, if possible, our wronged neighbors' forgiveness too. The darkness of human scandal in all too many places is lightened only by the scandal of a God we call Savior and Redeemer, a God who is just, but also patient and merciful. Thank God we belong to a scandalous Christianity. David L. Fleming SJ May-3~une 2002 spiritua growth GEORGE A. MALONEY Transformative Aspects of Spirituality The human race has entered a new age. We are too close to the launching of it to know what is really happening or to see where it will lead us. We are like adolescents seeking meaningfulness in newfound powers emerging inside them and exploding confusedly around them. We feel a tension between pessimism, even fear, and optimistic dreams of a world of increasing richness. Through satellites we are in immediate contact not only with people and events all around planet Earth, but also with other planets as well. In a way our universe is shrinking, for distant parts of it are becoming more and more present to us. But we also stand in frightened isolation against the reality exploding before us into mysteries that we cannot handle with our limited human knowledge. One way to cope with such richness and apparent meaninglessness is to retreat into ourselves. We can build physical and psychological walls around us; George A. Maloney sJ has taught theology, edited the jour-nal Diakonia, conducted and directed many retreats, written articles (including four in this journal, 1965 to 1995), and published sixty-three books. His address is Contemplative Ministries; 13338 Del Monte Drive, #3-K; Seal Beach, California 90740. Review for Religious within the narrow confines of ~elf-centered consumerism, sports, cults, and new and old religious ideas that favor ghetto living, we can live in "splendid isolation" from the rest of the world. Traditional Western Christian views, based largely on Scholastic philosophy and theology and Newtonian physics, no longer seem adequate. An overemphasis on impersonal dogmas and structures and rituals is yielding to a search for revitalization. People seek transcendence and personal experience of God in their lives. Carl Jung has shown how some people use the institutional, dogmatic, and ritual aspects of their religion as a defense against subjective, inner religious experience. His writings strongly advocate that the quest for religious experience is an integral and necessary part of the search for our true self) The rationalistic framework that has been used to present Christianity to the West is in need of a complementary vision. Such a vision would not really be new. It is found in the Old and New Testaments. It is an openness to God as mystery, meeting the transcendent God in reverential awe and wonderment. It takes our eyes away from ourselves as the exploiting center of the universe and focuses on a humbly adoring response to God's invitation to share his divine life. Abraham J. Heschel, the great Jewish mystic and theologian, captures this contrast between a heavily accentuated, rational approach and one of perceptual intuition: "Most of our attention is given to the expedient, to that which is conducive to our advantage and which would enable us to exploit the resources of our planet . But there is more than one aspect of nature that commands our attention. We go out to meet the world, not only by way of expediency, ~ but also by way of wonder. In the first we accumulate information in order to dominate; in the second we deepen our appreciation in order to respond.''2 A Transcendent but Als0 Immanent God Most of us grew up with a Newtonian understanding of the universe, of God, and .of ourselves. In this paradigm God is "up there," a static observer of a .mechanical world. He directs the world through the laws of mechanics which are built into the cosmos. What moves through abs'olute space and time are May-June 2002 Maloney ¯ Tran~formative Aspects of Spirituality God is seen as energizing Love, acting on all of his creation from inside as well as outside. material particles called ,atoms: small, solid, indestructible things, the basic building blocks for all material creatures. In 1905 Albert Einstein published his special theory of relativity and "slew a beautiful theory with an ugly fact," in the words of T.H. Huxley. He proved that space and time form a four-dimensional continuum (space-time) and showed that all reality is relational. Norman Pittenger, a process theologian, describes this dynamic universe well: "We live in and we are confronted by a richly interconnected, interrelated, interpenetrative series of events, just as we ourselves are such a series of events."3 In such a view, all of us being part of God's creation, God is seen as energizing Love, acting on all of his creation from inside as well as outside. He is seen, not as a God up there or over there--as an object--but as a triune community of personal love, interacting with all his creatures, ordering all seeming chaos into loving unity. He leads all things in a dance of harmonious motion, stretching toward greater complexity hnd yet greater union. This God is truly, as St. Paul told the Athenians, not far from us, "for in him we live and move and have our being" (Ac 17:28). ~ Einstein describes how science and religion are in intimate relationships with each other~through the gift of mystical wonderment: "The most beautiful and most profound emotion we can experience is the sensation of the mystical. It is the sower of all true science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead. To know that what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty which our dull faculties can comprehend only in their most primitive forms--this knowledge, this feeling, is at the center of true religiousness.4 Such wisdom and beauty can come .only in the religious insight that all human beings and all of our material cosmos are interrelated and interdependent, through a sense of community, of belonging together and sharing the riches that God has given. It is through interior prayer, through humble and loving Review for Religious adoration, that we can encounter God as a personal, loving, infinite sphere whose center is everywhere and circumference nowhere, and who embraces each of his creatures in the unity of his dynamic, loving creativity. Only in such intimate oneness with God can we receive living knowledge that is also transforming love. Only such experienced love will allow us to see our unique place in the whole of creation. Transformed by such oneness with God, we can stretch out creatively to bring about a more loving universe. Before we can rediscover some Christian practices to help in our renewal in this young millennium, we need to rediscover the personal, interrelational, triune creator God. This brings up the perennial question asked by Eastern and Western Christianity: How does God, who in his true essence is unreachable and unknowable, come to us? If he is perfect and unchangeable, how can he relate to us? "No one has ever seen God" (1 Jn 4:12, Jn 1:18). We would have to be God in order to know him fully. Yet the good news Jesus brings us is that God so loves this world as to give us his Son so that we may share in God's own nature, even in this life and more fully in the life to come (2 P 1:4). This is why the early Eastern Fathers always insisted on the distinction between God's essence and his uncreated energies. It preserves the awesome transcendence of God that can never be totally possessed by finite creatures. God Is Primal Grace Of all God's material creatures, only we human beings are an unfinished nature that has been gifted by God with spiritual faculties to communicate with his knowledge and love. We are capable of freely receiving God's communications and responding to his call to become divinized children of so loving a Father (1 Jn 3:1). The redemptive work of the crucified and risen Jesus consists in giving us his Spirit of love, through whom we may know the Father and the fullness of the Son On 17:3). Thus we can become true children of God On 1:12, Rrn 8:15, Ga 4:6). This "going forth" of God, to use Pseudo-Dionysius's term, is simply grace in its primal sense. It is God in 'his hesed, covenantal love, pursuing his people by stretching out his "two hands-- Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit," in the words'of St. Irenaeus. May-~une 2002 Maloney * Transformative AspectsofSpirituality God is, therefore, grace as he goes out of himself in his uncreated energies to share with us his very own life. We can truly know God and experience him intimately. Mthough in his Godhead or essence he is totally incomprehensible, yet in his energies he can be experienced as perfect love giving itself to us. In this experience of God as free gift of love, we can know him in his personal love toward us and can cooperate with his loving energies toward others. God's energies are the loving relationships of the Persons of the Trinity with regard to ourselves. God's activities are not divided.into sacred and secular, the supernatural and the natural. These energies are not "created things." They are God himself in self-giving to us in one essence of love, yet in three distinct Persons. The energies are personal. They are the whole Trinity acting in loving self-giving to all creatures. In such a view, God is never inactive.regarding us and his created worlds~ Grace, then, is not a created "thing" that God heaps upon us when we pray ardently. God permeates all persons, all things, all events by his personal, loving, uncreated energies. Every thing, every event, in the universe is "graced" and penetrated by God at each moment. It is for us to find new eyes to see this presence. This is possible through Jesus' resurrection. He brings us this "new life" as a Person, fully God and fully human. We are branches of his life-giving vine; he is our bridge to the Father. Body-Soul Relationships The way we perceive ourselves as human beings is the way we relate to other human beings and to God. For centuries we have viewed human beings as entities existing all by themselves. We have failed to see ourselves as persons oriented toward others in body-soul-spirit relationships. Instead, through Platonism's way of expressing Western Christianity, the human being was seen as a cgmbination of a body and a separable rational soul. The body was seen as material and perishable, the soul as immortal by its nature: it could live forever after being separated from the body in death. In the 17th century, Descagtes did more than any other thinker to create the impression of the body and soul being two Review for Religious distinct, objective entities. Such an objectivization of the body and the soul left its heavy mark upon our Western Christian idea of how we relate to God, ourselves, others, and the world around us. Such a view of the human person does not fit well with the biblical vision of human beings' relationships with God, others, and the entire created world. St. Paul describes a human person as being in the process of becoming holy and blameless, "spirit, soul, and body, for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Th 5:23). The Bible does not present a human being as one who "possesses" a living soul, but rather as a living "ensouled" body-person. A human person does not have a body as a possession; the ensouled body is the whole person. This human person, accordingly, in his or her totality, exists in relationship with all of matter and with the trinitarian God, whose being pure spirit does not prevent the Son from being incarnate among us. God (as ruah) breathes into human beings and restores them to a new love relationship with God. If God, then, is so dynamically present to us, why do we not "see" him everywhere? Because, as we have said, our concept of ourselves as "possessing" several objects, a body and a soul, has led us to think of God as an object outside of ourselves, usually in a lofty region called heaven. We :have forgotten the immanence of the passionately loving Trinity, God dwelling within us. In our prayer we approach God "rationally,".as persons who see ourselves as the center of our own activity and who see God as the "object" out there to whom we pray. The philosopher Martin Heidegger can furnish us with insights for a new vision of God and ourselves. For him God is a dynamic, energetic force, never static, but always revealing himself to us in the events of each day. Truth is an event, not an abstract concept. It is an event of "nonconcealment," a "revelation," a stripping away of the veil so that the fullness of Being may shine forth,s The infinite God, of course, never becomes fully revealed to human beings. ~ The fullness of God's infinite Being, his Godhead, remains hidden, but is glimpsed as We have forgotten the immanence of the passionately loving Trinity, God dwelling within us. May-3~une 2002 Maloney ¯ Transformative Aspects of Spirituality the Ground of all created beings. To see God in his revelation is to love ourselves and all other creatures by a created participation in the uncreated and all-powerful love of God. Diaphanous Matter God is present in all things with his loving activity. In our contemplation, then, we should see God existing in all of his material creation and working in our very own bodies to bring them into the harmony of "spirit, soul, and body" that Paul speaks of'(1 Th 5:23). Jesus used his human body in communicating with his heavenly Father, finding his Father working in and through his human body. Jesus could enjoy the Father's love in being there, in his body. His body was also the place where the Father's energies were at work. If Paul could write, "Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 6:19), how much more must Jesus have known the sacredness of his body? He used his body as a gift to communicate God's Spirit in love to all whom he met. We too are to use our bodies integrally as part of ourselves: who we are as whole persons living lives as receivers and givers, as persons who are loved and love in return, growing into greater likenesses of Christ by God's presence within us. If God's energies touch us in our bodily relationships, then our bodies can experience the effects of God's loving activity. The idea that our bodies are basically evil, or at least not very sacred, must change to a more incarnational view. We should find God's goodness in the feeding and clothing of our bodies, in our sexuality, even in various postures of our body as We pray. Praying with Our Whole Being We find in the Old and New Testaments the command "You shall love Yahweh your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength" (Dr 6:5). In prayer we should use not only our mind and memory, but our whole being, body, soul, hnd spirit. We need in the West to learn how to use our body in praying before God. All mystical traditions of East and West agree that a certain amount of exterior silence, a certain amount of aloneness, is necessary for interior concentration. True silence Review for Religious is an integration of all the powers of body, psyche, and spirit for the hearing of God's word. We Westerners need inner silence in order to reach the still-pointedness that the mystics speak of. A way of becoming "one-pointed," suggested by the disciplines of yoga, is to look intently upon a flower, a painting, or some other beautiful object. In Eastern Orthodoxy worshipers focus or center on the Trinity, Christ, Mary the mother of God, or a saint by using icons to lift them into the presence of the one represented in the icon. Through such focused consciousness, they begin to lose their focus on themselves and become immersed in the presence of God, the Giver of all beauty. They find themselves transcending the limitations of place and time and the tyranny of their "conditioned" self, with its unruly desires. Through such concentration they not only begin to perceive a oneness with the world around them, but also a slowing down of their mental activities, with a feeling of peace and quiet as they enter the numinous presence of the Divine. Breathing properly is the first step toward finding ourselves as integrated persons. Rhythmic breathing tends to make us detached, relaxed, and hence more free to focus and reflect steadily, calmly, and effordessly upon the indwelling Trinity. A form of body-prayer almost lost to Westerners is prostration. Lying on the floor, face down, fosters a great awareness of our creaturehood before the awesome Allness of God. Our body is exposed and defenseless; we feel truth .and simplicity tangibly. The empirical ego disappears, and only the true self remains. Throughout the history of Christianity, many reform movements have sought to recall Christians to a simpler, more pristine vision of Christianity and away from an exaggerated attachment to religion's externals. !n the 16th and 17th centuries there rose up in Europe a puritan protest against Roman Catholicism. Material techniques that had been in use from Apostolic times--such as sacraments and sacramentals, pictures, statues, icons, incense, candles, water, oil--were removed from many Christian churches during and after the Reformation period. As we are "whole" persons whet/we enter into prayer, it is only natural that material aids can help us to move from one level to another in a fuller integration of our total human nature May-~une 2002 in our prayer. We can be helped by memories of specific human experiences and by symbols and pictures; they are likely to be filled with spiritual meaning, elevating our consciousness to greater awareness of God. We should not be afraid of such things if they truly do help us to pray better. In our relationships with God and neighbor in this world of ours, perhaps our greatest need is external and internal discipline, that is, asceticism. Important Principles We need to keep clearly in mind the distinction between God's freely bestowed grace and our free cooperation in using various techniques to dispose ourselves to receive God in his grace. First, we must remember that God wishes to give himself to us directly through an immediate experience. This communication is made to a human person, a whole being, not to a separated soul or a detached intellect. It is important, therefore, to prepare ourselves for prayer and worship through asceticism and. psychosomatic techniques to bring our whole being to a point of receptivity or single-mindedness to receive God's communication on the highest level we can attain. Second, we must recognize that all such preparatory acts are only conditions for prayerful union with God through grace. Our own best efforts, by themselves, leave us absolutely impotent to attain such union. Union with God is a free and gratuitous gift whose bestowal cannot be dictated by our human wills nor be assumed after long and careful preparation. Most importantly, if our uses of psychosomatic techniques are truly to help us receive God's life-giving grace, they must conform to the whole plan of salvation as revealed by Holy Scripture and church teaching and illustrated in the lives and writings of the saints. In our relationships with God and neighbor in this world of ours, perhaps our greatest need is external and internal Review for Religious discipline, that is, asceticism. The more exclusively rational our religion is, the less discipline of body, soul, and spirit do we find. In our lives, is there an habitual attitude of self-control and inner discipline? In all of our body, soul, and spirit relationships, do we exercise an alertness and a turning to God whereby we keep things in balance? St. Paul exhorted the new Christians of Corinth to bring every thought and flight of fancy of theirs into captivity and into obedience to Jesus Christ (2 Co 10:5). Jesus insisted that we first clean the inside of the vessel (our heart) and then the outside (Mr 23:26). A Means to Love God and Neighbor The end of our Christian life is to love God with our whole heart and to love our neighbors as ourselves (Mt 22:37-40). But there can be no new level of awareness in prayer that God is our all unless we courageously strive to put to death all affections and attachments to lesser loves that are obstacles to our full love of God and neighbor. Many Christians have heard distorted teachings on asceticism. The "worldliness" within human hearts has all too often been equated with the material world which God created and saw as "very good" (Gn 1:31). Is it any wonder that with a more holistic, biblical approach to theology and anthropology, informed by the behavioral sciences of psychology and sociology, we have turned from an old "traditional" view of asceticism? But have we replaced it with something better? Today, in our pleasure-oriented culture, our bodily appetites are more in need of discipline than ever. The way we approach this must be determined by the goal, namely, to love God and neighbor as perfectly as possible. Jesus had to go against his own desires in order to do at all times whatever most pleased his heavenly Father. His ascetical practice was always subordinated to the Father and had its full meaning insofar as it brought him into more intimate union with his Father (Lk 22:42). Ascetical principles include the following: (1) Any and all ascetical practices are means to attain the end of the spiritual life. (2) The whole person needs continual discipline of body, soul, and spirit in relationships with things, other people, and God. (3) Certain areas of our being are more important in determining ll/lay-~une 2002 Maloney ¯ Transformative Aspects of Spirituality our choices than others. Without neglecting any area of our being, we especially need control of our interior faculties of memory, understanding, and will, for it is through these faculties that our moral decisions to commit sin or practice virtue are made. (4) The areas needing discipline, then, include the body with its five exterior senses, the interior senses (the emotions, imagination, memories), the intellect, and the will. Exaggerated selfqove in the will is the root of all movement away from God. The great ascetics of the desert advise us to be guided in the spiritual life by a "soul-mate" or spiritual director, someone who is learned in the science of the spiritual life and is also holy. They advise us to reflect often, in the presence of the Trinity, and especially at the end of each day, on what we have done moment by moment in thought, word, and deed and so to discover the roots that prevent our cooperating with the Holy Spirit's gentle inspirations. The athletes of the desert, men and women "intoxicated with love of God," can also tei~ch us, in our world of sense pleasures and comforts, the value of fasting. Jesus in the Gospels teaches the necessity of fasting, almsgiving, and prayer and shows that they are intimately related. These things can be done quietly and humbly. "Your Father, who sees what is hidden, will repay you" (Mt 6:16-18). Fasting, to be truly Christian, must include turning to God ~metanoia) with a corresponding openness, to love and serve our neighbor. We experience a oneness with every human being, especially the poor and the hungry. Fasting perhaps once a week from our habitual eating habits can help us be inwardly attentive to God's loving presence in our daily life. ---24o Living the Transfiguration Feast We have presented some of the transformative elements of Christian spirituality that may help our daily living-out of the Feast of Transfiguration. This feast, celebrated on August 6, is a major feast among Eastern Christians. They bring to the church the first fruits of their harvest to be blessed and offered to God, but a deeper faith-vision penetrates this simple ritual, the mystery of the seed falling into the e~rth to bring forth fruit a hundredfold. We Christians in baptism each become a seed Review for Religious planted in the church. We are to grow to full maturity in Christ Jesus. A transfiguring process takes place over the spring, summer, and autumn years of our Christian lives. The seed grows from within, but also in the outer world. God's transfiguring power, his divinizing energies of love, work in us and in the world around us. The same loving God is the source both of our being and of all the beings around us. With this thought, this vision, we realize that the world has not changed, but we have changed. God's presence was always there as active love, but we took little notice of it. What we felt as darkness is now suffused with light. Seeing our uniqueness in God's love for us, we now see the uniqueness of all other beings in God's love for each of them. The true test of how Christian we are and to what degree we have been baptized in the Holy.Spirit is the degree of our involvement in bringing mercy and love to those suffering. "I was hungry and you gave me food . . ." (Mr 25:35-40). The presence of God within us becomes a swelling ocean wave that flows out to inundate the entire world with God's love. What was hidden now becomes revealed. Through our loving cooperation, what seemed absent now becomes present and transfiguring. As the Holy Spirit broods over us, baptizing us with his love and fire, we become a transfigured microcosmos in the incarnate Christ. We image the macrocosmos of the heavenly Jerusalem. Notes ~ See Carl Jung, Psychology and Religion (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1972). 2 Abraham J. Heschel, Man Is Not Alone (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Young, 1951), p. 36. 3 Norman Pittenger, Process Thought and Christian Faith (New York: Macmillan, 1968), p. 13. 4 Quoted by Lincoln Barnett, The Universe and Dr. Einstein (New York: New American Library, 1962), p. 108. s See Martin Heidegger, "Plato's Doctrine of Truth," trans. John Barlow, in Philosophy in the Twentieth Century, ed. William Barrett and Henry D. Aiken (New York: Random House, 1962). May-yune 2002 DENNIS J. BILLY St. Alphonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction ~Lhigeuno drei a(l1i6n9g6 w-1it7h8 t7h)e, tlhifee daoncdt owr oorfk ps roafy eSrt .a Andlp thhoen psautsr odne saint of confessors and moral theologians, we cannot expect to find precise, ready-made advice about spiritual direction for today. But this is not to say he has nothing to offer our current understanding of this ministry. Although Alphonsus was lim-ited by the general spiritual outlook of his day, he also had a way of surpassing it, and he brought great benefit to the people he served. In understanding Alphonsus's relevance for spiritual direction today, much will depend on how we approach his thought and which aspect of it we emphasize. In this essay we will examine the basis of his reputation as a "spiritual master" and identify the elements that people can use in their own practice of spiritual direction. A Gospel Spirituality At the outset it is important to recognize Alphonsus's missionary fervor. The major projects of his life--his mission preaching, his writing, his founding the Redemptorist Congre- Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor to our pages, writes from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious gation, his prayer--were all motivated by his desire to bring the Good News of plentiful redemption to others, especially the poor and most abandoned. Alphonsian spirituality is first and foremost a gospel spirituality, one which takes seriously the person of Jesus and his injunction "to make disciples of all nations" (Mr 28:19). In 18th-century Naples, Alphonsus inter-preted this calling in a very personalized way. Rather than going to faraway lands, he looked to his own "backyard," where peo-ple did not have easy access to the church's ordinary means for spiritual growth. This option for the poor, this willingness to go where others were not interested in going, led Alphonsus and his small band of followers to small moun-tain villages on the back roads of the king-dom of Naples. Their evangelizing efforts for the poor, illiterate peasants they found in the forgotten hamlets of Campania, Puglia, Basilicata, and Calabria helped change the spiritual landscape of south-ern Italy. These early Redemptorist missioners reminded peo-ple that God had not forgotten them, but was very much with them in their desire and thirst for spiritual growth. To ensure that such growth would continue, Alphonsus and his followers set up various devotional structures (confraternities, Eucharistic devotions, evening chapels) that would foster prayer and devo-tion in these fledgling faith communities after they left. Alphonsus's gospel spirituality helps us appreciate the var-ious nuances in the old debate whether there is a single Christian spirituality or many2 Inasmuch as every expression, of it must be rooted in the person of Christ, Christian spirituality is one. At times, however, individuals and groups have followed Christ in various particular works, spiritual practices, or styles of living. The great number of religious congregations, secular institutes, and lay movements that have appeared in the church's history suggest the almost infinite number of ways of following Christ. In this sense there are many Christian spiritualities, and many still to come. For our present purposes, Alphonsus's own prac-tice of the love of Jesus Christ can be seen as both different from and united to all other authentic Christian spiritualities. Throughout his life Alphonsus's overriding purpose was to draw others closer to Christ. May-June 2002 Billy ¯ St. Alphonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction Because of its flexibility and popular diffusion, moreover, his particular brand of gospel spirituality reminds us thatlthe term spirituality itself allows for various nuances and can be treated on a number of levels.2 A Man of Prayer Throughout his life Alphonsus's overriding purpose was to draw others closer to Christ. He believed that everyone could share an intimate relationship with Jesus and that the key to such a relationship was to be dedicated and persistent in prayer: "He who prays is certainly saved. He who prays not is certainly damned.''3 These strong words show Mphonsus's emphasis on prayer in fostering a mature relationship with God. Prayer, for him, was "the great means of salvation.''4 Everyone, he believed, receives sufficient grace to pray. Meditatio or mental prayer is particularly important for turning one's whole heart and mind to the Lord.s Alphonsus developed a simple formula for mental prayer that could be easily taught to the rustics of the Italian hill country, thus introducing them to one of the great riches of the church's tradition. In doing so he was criticized by a number of "enlightened" Neapolitan clerics for "casting pearls to swine" and thereby desecrating the church's treasures by sharing them with people who could not appreciate them, let alone put them into practice. Alphonsus, however, had little time for such judgmental remarks or for those who made them. Throughout 'his life he popularized the church's teaching on prayer. He met people where they were and helped them little by little to pray to God as inti-mate friends .speak with one another. "Paradise for God . . . is the human heart," he liked to say.6 Prayer was for him the means par excellence for enabling this divine indwelling to occur. He never tired of emphasizing the centrality of prayer for the spir-itual life: "There may be some who, after the perusal of my spiritual works, will accuse me of tediousness in so often rec-ommending the importance and necessity of having, continual recourse to God in prayer. But I seem to myself to have said not too much, but far too little.''7 Not only did he emphasize prayer in his own writings, but he also encouraged others to do the same: "I say, and repeat, and will keep on repeating as long Review for Religious as I live, that our whole salvation depends on prayer; and, there-fore, that all writers in their books, all preachers in their sermons, all confessors in their instructions to their penitents, should not inculcate anything more strongly than continual prayer.''s It is no small coincidence that Alphonsus is often referred to as the "doctor of prayer.''9 For him, we can get nowhere in the spiritual life without it. With it we have access to the copious redemption made possible by Jesus' passion, death, and resurrection. Leading Others to God Leading others to Christ was what Alphonsus's missionary vocation was all about. This conviction helps explain his Marian piety. Mary's life and her role in the church center on this same calling. By staying close .to Mary, Alphonsus felt assured that his own life of leading others to her Son would intensify and bear much fruit. This explains why his writings are full of the-ological references, edifying stories, and heartfelt prayers to the Madonna. Mary, who pondered in her heart all that happened to her son, is the Christian disciple par excellence. In his own efforts to follow Christ and to contemplate the great events of the paschal mystery, Alphonsus relied on Mary's generous help and protection?° When taken under the heading of the "care and cure of souls," spiritual direction encompasses virtually every aspect of the church's pastoral ministry. Such an assessment would be dou-bly true for Alphonsus, who through his preaching, writing, direction of souls, and general pastoral care did all he could to lead people to a more intimate relationship with God. Everything that Alphonsus did can be considered a kind of spiritual direction. Even activities that did not directly touch the lives of others (his prayer, his spiritual reading, his own private devotions) had a missionary dimension. These activities had a Marian dimension as well. What is more, the subtle balance between contemplation and action that appears in Mary's joyfulfiat is characteristic of Alphonsus's missionary activity. For him, prayer and action are two sides of the same apostolic coin. To separate them or to give undue emphasis to one or the other could do grave damage to missionaries and the people they serve. May-~une 2002 Billy ¯ St. Alphonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction When taken as "a helping relationship focusing on a person's spiritual growth," Alphonsus's spiritual direction is "directive" in nature and closely tied to his confessional practice.~ This is not to say that he did not sometimes give spiritual direction through correspondence or in conversation outside the confes-sional.~ 2 In fact, his practical temperament and his eclectic use of the church's spiritual tradition led him to take circumstances into account in his pastoral praxis with individuals. In general, however, Alphonsus saw a close connection between spiritual direction and sacramental confession. While he was aware of the distinction between the two, he was firm in his insistence that the confessor be someone who not only forgives sins, but also leads penitents further along the path of sanctity.~3 Alphonsus's strong penchant for uniting the two appears most clearly in his Praxis confessarii, where he delineates in descending order the four offices of the confessor: father, doc-tor, teacher, and judge.'4 For Alphonsus, every confessor has the responsibility of guiding souls to sanctity. This is so because all the faithful (not just a select few) are called to the perfection of Christian living. The term "spiritual director," in other words, is not simply for those who guide people through the rarified states of mystical experience, but for all confessors helping peo-ple in all states of life to walk the path of holiness. Alphonsus thus went a long way in demystifying the role of spiritual director in the Christian tradition. His efforts brought nourishing spiritual sustenance to ordinary people. This "meat and potatoes" approach was a benchmark of Redemptorist practice and char-acterized the Alphonsian approach to direction for years to come. More specifically, the principal characteristics of the Alphonsian confessor-director are: (1) an attitude of being more of a father and doctor than a judge, an attitude of charity, good-ness, and mildness in welcoming and treating penitents and in disposing them to penitence (so that their absolution need not be deferred or denied); (2) an attitude of kindness in giving penance, seeking rather to heal the soul than exact punishment for faults; (3) a marked preference for the poorest and most ignorant of the social classes; (4) a concern for giving the pen-itent the means not only to avoid a relapse into sin, but also to advance along the way of holiness; (5) recognizing the rela-tionship between preaching and confession, with preaching Review for Relig4ous preparing the way for confession and continuing its work.15 These characteristics of the Alphonsian confessor-director demonstrate the practical orientation of Alphonsus's mission. He sought to preach the good news of plentiful redemption to as many people as possible. He saw the wisdom of treating the confessional not as a tribunal, but as a means for educating the faithful in the ways of holiness. The connection he saw between preaching and confession reveals that he understood spiritual direction as something that extends to the ordinary care of souls. Ecumenical and inter-religious dialogue was not a viable option in his day. There was still too much polemic and mutual antag-onism among the various Christian denominations for constructive dialogue to take place, and the church's stance toward non-Christian religions was characterized by out-right condemnation of their tenets and a call to conversion. In Western Christianity, moreover, the church had to struggle not only against proselytizing by Protestant reformers, but also against the secularization stem-ming from the Enlightenment. In dealing with these threats, the church adopted a "fortress mentality"; it tried to shelter the faithful from as many harmful influences as possible~ It should not be surprising that Alphonsus, a foyal son of the church, espoused similar views. He sought, on the other hand, to preserve a certain "com-munion" of the various spiritual traditions within the church. He displayed a remarkable openness to the various approaches he encountered. If they passed the critical test of orthodoxy, he felt free to borrow whatever might be useful in his mission to bring about a fundamental conversion in the hearts and lives of people, especially the poor and most abandoned. This prag- When taken as "a helping relationship focusing on a person's spiritual growth," Alphonsus's spiritual direction is "directive" in nature and closely tied to his confessional practice. May-June 2002 Billy ¯ St. Alpbonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction matic openness to other spiritual traditions stood in contrast to quarrelsome petty arguments among some religious orders of his day. Such unhealthy competitiveness focused on small points that separated their approaches to the spiritual life, rather than on what united them. Alphonsus much preferred to emphasize what bound them together. His rule of thumb was whether a particular spiritual practice draws people closer to Christ. A corollary was that it be beneficial to as many people as possible~. This practical eclecticism led him to a synthetic approach to direction that was peculiarly his own. To cite just one example, he valued highly the spiritual doctrine of Teresa of Avila on the interior mansions of infused contemplation and encouraged directors to follow it whenever they encountered someone with tendencies toward mysticism. Unlike some representatives of the Carmelite school of spirituality, however, he affirmed with the Jesuits that not everyone is called to infused contemplation in this life. Accordingly, in his direction of souls, he focused on meditation and acquired contemplation.~6 In the final analysis, Alphonsus was convinced, it is not a method or approach that leads people to metanoia or a "change of heart," but a personal encounter with Jesus Christ. To this end Alphonsus probed various spiritual traditions within the church and used whatever he thought would benefit the people he served. Doing so, for Alphonsus, was an exercise of Christian love. He would have agreed wholeheartedly with Bernard of Clairvaux's assessment of families of spirituality in the church: "I admire them all. I belong to one of them by observance, but to all of them by charity." ~7 Doctor of Prayer As mentioned earlier, Alphonsus's reputation as a spiritual master eventually earned him the title of the "doctor of prayer." 18 His renown as a spiritual director comes from his cre-ative, eclectic, and pragmatic use of the traditions that preceded him. As an interpreter of these traditions, he focused on the one thing which, in his judgment, ultimately mattered in life, to enter into an intimate relationship with Jesus, the Redeemer. Prayer, for Alphonsus, was the primary means given to us to accomplish this end. Spiritual direction, for him, was both gen- Review for Religious eral and particular. It could take place in many contexts, but primarily had to do with the confessor's task of helping people grow in holiness. While Alphonsus saw a distinction between confession and spiritual direction, his zeal for souls and his popularizing sen-sitivities brought him to the conclusion that he and other priests in his day and age could best serve the people of God by draw-ing a close bond between the two. Sacramental confession, after all, was an application of Christ's redemptive love to the life of the penitent. Since, for Alphonsus, redemption was "plentiful," it followed that people's experience of sacramental reconcili-ation should include not only for-giveness of sin, but also guidance to help penitents grow in holiness. He believed that spiritual direction was for the masses--not a select few-- and for people of all walks of life. The close bond that he saw between preaching and the confes-sion- spiritual direction experience also suggests an organic (even circular) relationship between the general and more personal elements of anyone's receiving spiritual direction. These considerations have great import with regard to the relevance of Alphonsus's spiritual doctrine for today. His walk-ing with the Lord was both like and unlike our own. Walking in his footsteps today cannot mean following his teachings to the letter. That would be to overlook the prudenc.e of Alphonsus's own pastoral decisions; it would mean neglecting to take into account the pressing concerns and very different pastoral needs of our own day. Following Alphonsus today must mean making creative, eclectic, and pragmatic use of the spiritual traditions that have come down to us as they first came to Alphonsus along with what he himself has handed down to us. Following him must mean sifting through what he considered beneficial for the peo-ple of his day and finding .practical applications for the people of today. It must mean a way of spiritual direction that helps people get word of Christ's plentiful redemption and fosters a Alphonsus's reputation as,a spiritual master eventually earned him the title of the "doctor of prayer." May-June 2002 Billy ¯ St. Alpbonsus and Today's Spiritual Direaion lifelong conversation with God deep in their hearts. Spiritual direction in the Redemptorist tradition today must neither pre-tend to be, nor try to be, nor be an exact replica of what it was during Alphonsus's day. It should resonate with his teaching, however, and glow with his missionary fire, his yearning to lead as many people as possible into a deep friendship with the Lord. Notes 1 For references to this debate, see Walter H. Principe CSB, "Toward Defining Spirituality," Studies in Religion / Sciences religieuses 12 (1983): 129, esp. n. 3. 2 For a discussion of levels of spirituality in relation to Alphonsus, see Dennis J. Billy, Plentiful Redemption: An Introduction to Alpbonsian Spirituality (Liguori, Missouri: Liguori Publications, 2001), pp. 98-101. 3 Alphonsus de Liguori, Prayer: The Great Means of Obtaining Salvation and All the Graces Which We Desire of God, in The Complete Works of Alphonsus de Liguori, ed. Eugene Grimm (New York: Redemptorist Fathers, 1886-1894; reprint, Brooklyn, St. Louis, and Toronto: Redemptorist Fathers, 1927), Vol. 3, p. 49. Hereafter, Complete Works, Vol. 1 or 2 or 3 or 4 or 6. 4 Complete Works, Vol. 3, pp. 19-22. 5 Alphonsus de Liguori, Mental Prayer and the Exercises of a Retreat, in Complete Works, Vol. 3, pp. 252-258. 6 Alphonsus de Liguori, The Way to Converse Always and Familiarly with God, in Complete Works, Vol. 2, p. 395. 7 Alphonsus de Liguori, The Practice of the Love of Jesus Christ, in Complete Works, Vol. 6, p. 456. 8 Alphonsus de Liguori, in Complete Works, Vol. 3, p. 240. 9 See Pope Pius XI, "Allocuzione del 20 Settembre 1934," in Annuarium Apostolatus Orationis (Rome, 1935), p. 73; also Dizionario di Mistica (Rome: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1998), s.v. "Alfonso Maria de Liguori (santo)," by G. Velocci. 10 For the theological and pastoral dimensions of Alphonsus's Marian devotion, see Hamish EG. Swanston, Celebrating Eternity Now: A Study of the Theology of St. Alphonsus de Liguori (Chawton Alton Hampshire: Redemptorist Publications, 1995), pp. 220-230. ,1 For various definitions of spiritual direction, see Dennis J. Billy, "The Relations of Spiritual Direction," Studia moralia 36 (1998): 67, n. 1. t2 For spiritual direction in Alphonsus's correspondence, see Sean Wales, "The Ministry of Spiritual Direction: Saint Alphonsus, the Review for Religious Spiritual Director as Seen though His Letters," in Reflections on the Spirit of Saint Alphonsus, ed. M. O'Shea (Monroe, Michigan: IHM Publications, 1987), pp. 93-107. ,3 Emilio Lage, "S. Alfonso e la direzione spirituale," Spicilegium historicum CSSR 48 (2000): 22-25. 14 Alphonsus de Liguori, Praxis confessarii ad bene excipiendas con~ fessiones, chap. 1, in Theologia moralis, Vol. 4 (Rome: Typis Polyglottis Vaticanis, 1912; reprint 1953), p. 528. ,s Emilio Lage, "S. Alfonso," p. 14 (my translation). ,6 Joseph W. Oppitz, Alphonsian History and Spirituality: A Study of the Spirit of the Founder Saint Alphonsus M. Liguori and of the Missionary Institute, The Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer (Rome and Suffield, Conn.: privately published, 2nd printing, 1978), p. 30. 17 Bernard of Clairvaux, Apologia to William of Saint Thierry, IV.8 (PL 182.903), cited in Pope John Paul II, Vita consecrata (1996), §52. ~s See endnote 9 above. "erat lux vera" here shines that light soft and luminescent brilliant and incandescent firefly by night and sun by day ember and inferno manifold, multifarious, multifaceted variegated and diverse that light which mothers every honest light the stars and their stones incendiary and catoptric candlelight and firelight and the light which warms and dances tender glowing in the eyes of the one you love through every shuttered window bolted door and locked gate in every place which shows a space there shines that light which all the world illumines enkindles and enflames Se~n Kinsella May-June 2002 ANNE HIGGINS AND BETTY ANN McNEIL Louise de Marillac and Elizabeth Seton: Women of Spirit dialogue Although separated by a century and more, Louise de Marillac (1591-1660) and Elizabeth Seton (1774-1821) were bound together by the Holy Spirit in ways of charity and wisdom.~ Their lives mirror one another. As wives, mothers, widows, and spiritual leaders, they model the life of the Spirit for contemporary women in ministry, for all whom the Gospels inspire to tend the fire of divine love in their own hearts and in the lives of others. Elizabeth made the first English translation of the original (French) biography of Louise.2 With the support and guidance of the French Sulpicians in Maryland, Elizabeth founded the Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph's (31 July 1809) in Emmitsburg. For her sisterhood, the first to be founded in the United States, she adapted the Rule that Louise de Marillac and Vincent de Paul (1581-1660) had developed for the Anne Higgins DC, poet and English instructor, also does campus ministry at Mount St. Mary's College and Seminary, Emmitsburg, Maryland. Betty Ann McNeil DC is province archivist for the Daughters of Charity and a member of the Vincentian Studies Institute. They write from St. Joseph's Provincial House; 333 South Seton Avenue; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727. Review for Religious Daughters of Charity, founded in Paris 29 November 1633. The Setonian legacy expresses their charism today. This article compares and contrasts the themes common to their lives, and notes how they saw themselves until devastating things happened to them, .changing their lives forever. Through devastation and change they remained faithful to God, and God created something new through them.3 In her new life Elizabeth found "peace"--"enjoying the liberty of solitude, country life, and plenty of every good." We invite you to enter into "Sabbath moments" as Louise and Elizabeth tell us about themselves in first-person vignettes, which include or are based on their own words. May the Spirit guide this reflection on roots and be a source of blessing for all who live or are listening in on the Vincentian and Setonian legacy.4 (At intervals, we invite you to pray and reflect on their story, which may also be yours.) Like the five modern women discussed in a 1990 book called Composing a Life, Louise and Elizabeth "were engaged in that act of cremation that engages us all--the composition of their lives." Like these women--and guided by the Holy Spirit and fueled by their faith--"they worked by°improvisation, discovering the shape of their creation along the way, rather than pursuing a vision already defined." And they "combined familiar and unfamiliar components in response to new situations. Their commitments were continually refocused and redefined." s LOUISE: I had been looking at my life in one way. I was born into an upper-class Parisian family, but I never knew my mother. And my father referred to me as "ma' fille, ma naturelle." From infancy I was raised in a convent and a boarding school. When I was four, my father remarried, and his new wife did not accept me. ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way. I was born into an upper-class New York family, but my mother died when I was three. When I was four, my father remarried, and his new wife did not accept me. LOUISE: "God, who has granted me so many graces, led me to understand that it was his holy will that I go to him by way of the cross. His goodness chose to mark me with it from my birth, and he has hardly ever left me, at any age, without some occasion of suffering." 6 ~lay-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil * Women of Spirit ELIZABETH: "Will not Jesus Christ be with me? Was I not signed with the cross of salvation in baptism?''7 "You and I must meet him - we must be crucified - it is in vain to start [recoil], or think of escaping." 8 "The thirst and longing of my soul is fixed on the cross alone.''9 "We are never strong enough to bear our cross; it is the cross which carries us, not so weak to be unable to bear it, since the weakest become strong by its virtue." 10 LOUISE: "O God, I have resolved to admit no love unless it be for you!" 11 Ihad been looking at my life in one way, and then things happened to change it. When I was nineteen, I had my heart set on joining a contemplative order of nuns, the Capuchins. I even made a private promise to join them. But my spiritual director, P~re de Champigny, who was the provincial of the Parisian Capuchins, said no. He said I was not physically strong enough, and he said, "I believe that God has other plans for you." 12 ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way, but then things happened to change it. When I was nineteen, I fell in love with William Magee Seton (1768-1803). I married him, and we moved into our house in lower Manhattan. Then the children came: Anna Maria, William, Richard, Catherine, and Rebecca.13 "Sitting on a litde bench before the fire - the head resting on the hand, the body perfecdy easy, the eyes closed, the mind serene contemplating, and tracing boundless Mercy and the source of all excellence and perfection - how pure the enjoyment and sweet the transitions of every thought - the soul expands . . . all earthly interests recede - and heavenly hopes become anxious wishes. "I can patiently, submissively, submit to thy holy will, adoring in sweet confidence of thy mercy - preserve me but this heavenly peace, continue to give me this privilege beyond all mortal computation of resting in thee, and adoring thee my father - friend - and never failing support - for this alone I implore, let all other concerns with their consequences be entirely and wholly submitted to thee." 14 LOUISE: So, at twenty-two, I was married to Antoine Le Gras (1581-162'5). He was a good man, conscientious, deeply religious, and charitable to the poor, and I grew to love him. We had one son: Michel-Antoine [1613-1696]. We lived in a town house on the right bank of the Seine. It was a pleasant life in those first years. Review for Religious I had been looking at my life in one way, and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. In 1617, when I was twenty-six, my kinsman the Marquis d'Attichy and his wife had both died, and we took charge of their seven children . . . Then, my own husband, Antoine, became ill. I remembered my old promise to God to enter religious life. I began a dark journey through doubt. Everything seemed to be filling apart for me. I entered into a great desolation of spirit which lasted until Pentecost, because of a doubt as to whether l should leave my husband, as I wished to do in order to repair my first vow and have freedom to serve God and neighbor . I feared further that the attachment I had for my director might prevent me from taking another, thinking myself obliged to quit him . . . I had great pain because of doubt concerning the immortality of the soul. These three uncertainties gripped my soul in agonies which now seem to me unimaginable. On the day of Pentecost, at Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs during holy Mass, all of a sudden my spirit was cleared of these doubts. I was made to understand that I must dwell with my husband and that the time would come when I would be in a position to make vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and that I would be in a small community where others would do the same. I then understood that I would be in a place where I could help my neighbor [although] there would be much coming and going . , . I was also assured that God would give me another director, who was then, so it seems to me, shown me in a vision, and I felt a repugnance to accept him. I submitted, nevertheless, although it seemed to me that it would not be necessary to make this change yet. My third difficulty was banished, by the assurance I felt in my soul that it was God who revealed all this to me, and that, there being a God, I must not doubt the rest)s Reflect for a few minutes now on your Pentecost experience. "I believe that God has other plans for you." LOUISE: Some months after that, I met Vincent de Paul, who became my spiritual director. And I took care of Antoine, with great love, for four years, until he died in December 1625. I was thirty-four. I had been looking at my life in one way., and May-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst ofthe"destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way. and then things happened to change it. When I was twenty-three, pregnant with Richard, my father-in-law died, and we took charge of the seven young Seton children . . . and then things happened to destroy my life. William's health became a real worry for me. When I was twenty-seven, my father died . . . Around that time, too, the family business suffered terrible losses., and William was so ill that we decided to travel to Italy for his health. After thirty terrible days, quarantined in the Lazaretto near Livorno, we moved to a house in Pisa, rented for us by the Filicchis.~6 Will died there, with Anna Maria (Annina) and me at his side. I was twenty-nine. He was buried in Livorno. Each time I visited his grave, I wept over it for a long time with inexpressible tenderness and "unrestrained affection." It seemed that I loved him more than anyone could love on earth.17 I had been looking at my life in one way., and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. - "the sharp thorn in the heart."~s And in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. It was in those months in Italy after William's death that I was exposed to the full radiance of the Catholic faith. You drew me to it, Jesus - you and your Mother. Through storms of tears and questions, of doubts and anguish, you drew me to the Catholic faith. @hrough fifty-six days on the ocean voyage home, with Annina, and in the company of Antonio Filicchi, through desires and temptations, I remained faithful to you, God, and you created something new. In New York, on Ash Wednesday 1805, I turned the corner of Barclay Street, where St. Peter's Catholic Church was, and said to myself: "Here, my God, I go, heart all to you!" ~9 Reflect for a few minutes now on your conversion experience. LOUISE: Ultimately I came to embrace the God of both light and darkness and proclaim, "God is my God.''2° "I gave -~2~5~6-] him my full consent to work in me by his power whatever he Review for Religious willed to see accomplished.''2~ In 1629 1 met a young woman of Suresnes named Marguerite Naseau [1594-1633], who had presented herself to Monsieur Vincent. She was the first to serve in the Charities.22 Vincent de Paul asked me to organize and form the growing group of country girls who had come to Paris to serve the poor. "God, my only hope, your love impels me." My urgency impels my sisters. "Continue, [my sisters,] to love His service by observing your Rules, especially by the cordiality and support you show one another. You can be certain that God is with you.''23 Give yourselves entirely to God in order to serve God in the poor24 "As for your conduct with the sick, may you never take the attitude of merely getting the task done. You must show them affection, serving them from the heart, inquiring of them what they might need, speaking to them gently and compassionately.''2s "Perfection is not to be found [in excessive introspection], but in the practice of true charity.''26 "Be very gentle and courteous toward your poor. You know that they are our masters and that we must love them tenderly and respect them deeply.''27 Our Savior has taught us charity in order to make up for our own powerlessness to render him any service,z8 "Oh, what a happiness it would be, provided God were in no way offended, were the Company to serve only the totally destitute.''29 I had been looking at my life in one way., and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. Reflect now on what God has created new in your life. In the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way., and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. On Pentecost 1806 1 received the sacrament of confirmation May-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit from Bishop John Carroll. Later I wrote to my spiritual advisors: Things are so bad in New York for me, and so financially tenuous--should I move to Canada? While I was waiting for some reply, I chanced to meet Father William Du Bourg, who invited me to Baltimore to open a school for girls. Bishop Carroll and all my priest friends supported me, and in June 1808 we began our journey to a new life, in Maryland. LOUISE: I put my trust in Providence. I said to my sisters: "If you completely entrust everything to the guidance of Divine Providence and love the most holy will of God, this will contribute greatly to your peace of mind and heart. In fact, this is one of the most essential practices I know of for growth in holiness.''3° "We can have no peace with God, with our neighbor, or with ourselves unless Jesus Christ gives it to us.''3~ "Vows have their origin in Love. in the cross." 32 "One of the principal graces God has given you, my sisters, is your call to this Company and your vocation of charity; I will tell you, then, what your thoughts about it should be - there may be both very highs and very lows and still without contradiction.,,33 ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way . . . and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. While I was trying to figure out a way to teach poor little girls, God sent into my life Mr. Samuel Cooper, a convert, who was becoming a priest and was disposing of his wealth. He wished to fund education for Emmitsburg's poor, and also various services for the elderly and for needy families. "Our Lord will direct all, whatever you say or do I shall consider as his voice and will.''34 "I set out on a new career: peace and silence and submission the whole aim.''35 "Do we serve God in hope, looking to his promises, confiding in his love, seeking his kingdom, and leaving the rest to him?''36 "Providence has disposed for me a plan after my own heart.''~7 Reflect awhile on your eJcperience of Providence. ELIZABETH: Not only would I have a school there, but a new religious community. I wrote to a friend in New York: "Mr. Cooper has given a handsome property for the establishment of such females as may choose to lead a religious life. We are going Review for Religious to begin our novitiate in a beautiful country place in the mountains." 38 I rejoiced in my new home, communing with God amidst "woods, rocks, walks.''39 "Peace . enjoying the liberty of solitude, country life, and plenty of every good.''4° I wrote to my lifelong friend Julia Sitgreaves Scott: "It is true also that I shall be at the head of a community which will live under the strictest rules of order and regularity.-41 Even in Emmitsburg I remembered my last home in New York, on State Street. I wrote to my dear friend Eliza Craig Sadler: "Think of me when you pass it again. Can a heart swell so high and not burst? Yet would I change one shade or trial of it? That would be madness, and working in the dark.''42 The building and nurturing of my new religious community was my next challenge, for "one can't talk of making nuns like making bread.''43 I cautioned about the danger of being "lovers with our lips rather than our heart, while a true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross.''44 I told my young sister-in-law Cecilia Seton: "Rejoice to bear your share in the cross, which is our passport and seal to the kingdom of the Redeemer.''4s At our council meeting we agreed that "no personal inconvenience should prevent Sisters of Charity from doing what duty and charity required.''46 From its inception I felt loved by my sisters. I told my New York friends that they should come and see my community's black gowns and demure faces, "which hid a set of as lively and merry hearts as ever met together.''47 As grateful as I was for the plenty of every good, the Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament was for me the best of all God's gifts. It was the treasure of my soul.48 Sickness and death were never far from us in Emmitsburg. In 1810, when my sister-in-law, now Sister Cecilia Seton, died, I told Julia Scott: "I am sending my rosebuds to bloom in heaven." 49 On 12 March 1812 my beloved daughter Annina died. Through the stark days after her death, I found myself "begging, crying to Mary to behold her Son and plead for us, and to Jesus to behold his Mother - to pity a mother, [this] poor, poor mother." S° On 3 November 1816 my youngest, Rebecca, died. She was only fourteen. "I am sending my rosebuds to bloom in heaven." May-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit "God is with us - and, if sufferings abound in us, his consolations also greatly abound, and far exceed all utterance. [I was] not only willing to take my cross, but kissed it too.''sl "My own troubles.will teach me, I hope, how to comfort others." s2 Reflect on troubles that taught you how to comfort others. --- 260-J ELIZABETH: In 1811 I met Father Simon Gabriel Brutfi, "a true cordial to my heart."" He was my soul's friend and guide. The Scriptures continued to be God's wellspring for me. "Nothing in our state of clouds and veils can I see so plainly as how the saints died of love and joy, since I, so wretched and truly miserable, can only read word after word of the blessed 83rd and 41st psalms in unutterable feelings - God - God - God - that the supreme delight, that he is God, and to open the mouth and heart wide that he may fill it." s~ "I long and wish to serve our Lord with every breath I draw."" "Oceans of LOVE to plunge in for eternity, every faculty of our soul dilated!!!!! - heavenly pure supernatural love undivided - God alone - ,,s6 Love love love, when will I love enough? "This world of separations must have its course. We must take its good and evil quietly as it passes - for my part I am now so accustomed to look only at our God in all that happens that it seems to me [that] the most painful things in the order of his providence can but increase our confidence and peace in him, since all will draw us but nearer to himself." ~7 "If it succeeds I bless God, if [it] does not succeed I bless God, because then it will be right that it should not succeed.''s8 LOUISE: In my prayer at Chartres, where I dedicated the Company to God through the prayers of the Blessed Virgin, I asked God to destroy the Company "rather than let it be established contrary to his holy will." s9 ELIZABETH: God, your love impelled me. and my urgency impelled my sisters. "Our God is God, and I know.all will turn out well at last., the ways of Providence are mysterious indeed as to the human nature, but most clearly we may distinguish in them the progress of the divine, pervading all.''6° "Be children of the church . be children of the church .,. May the most just, the most high, and the most amiable will of God be accomplished forever!''61 LOUISE: I had been looking at my life in one way., and Review for Religious then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. My life with the Company of Charity captured my heart, focused my mind, stabilized my soul for the single-minded search for the living reign of God, of God who was justice for the poor, healing for the sick, light for those in darkness. My story, like yours, is about bringing spiritual presence to a world lost in the mundane.62 ELIZABETH: "Let your chief study be to acquaint yourself with God because there is nothing greater than God." 63 "How grateful, then, should we be for our vocation, which is in itself a practice of the two principal commandments - obliging us to give every moment of life to charity, serving her [our vocation, charity] exteriorly in our care of the body, but principally in our care of souls, speaking to them of God, and helping them to know and love him eternally. Besides, how grateful we should be to God for choosing us for this manner of life.''6~ Notes ~ A version of this article was first presented at Seton Legacy III, a symposium on Elizabeth Seton and Incarnational Spirituality for a Contemporary World (Sisters of Charity Federation, 2001). 2 Nicolas Gobillon, La Vie de Mademoiselle/sic] Le Gras: Fondatrice et Premikre Superieure de la Compagnie des Filles de la Chariti, Servantes des Pauvres Malades (Paris: Andr~ Pralard, 1676). 3 This reflection may incorporate music and song into a multimedia presentation. The opening song could be "I Heard the Voice of Jesus" (Kingsfold). An entrance procession could be orchestrated with a solo flute, then flute and piano, then flute, piano, and guitar, then singing. As the song is sung, a processiofi could begin, with candle, incense, and LOUISE and ELIZABETH. Reflective interludes could be enhanced by sung verses of an arrangement of Elizabeth's favorite psalm, Psalm 23 (such as Marty Haugen's "Shepherd Me, O God"). The reflection could conclude with "Sing a New Church" (Nettleton). 4 See Ronald Rolheiser, The Holy Longing (New York: Doubleday, 1999), p. 165. 5 Mary Catherine Bateson, Composing a Life (New York: A Plume Book, 1990), pp. 1, 9. 6 "On Charity," in Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, ed. Louise May-3~une 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit Sullivan DC (New York: New City Press, 1991), p. 71 I. 7 "Mother Seton's Baptism," in Mother Seton Guild Bulletin 16 (November 1945), p. 3. 8 Elizabeth Seton to George Weis, 13 May 1810, quoted in Mother Seton Notes by Simon Gabriel Brute, ed. Loyola Law DC (Emmitsburg, 1884), p. 98. 9 To Philip Filicchi, 21 January 1809, in Elizabeth Seton: Selected Writings, ed. Ellin M. Kelly and Annabelle Melville (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), p. 244. ~0 "Exercise of the Presence of God," in Archives Saint Joseph's Provincial House, Daughters of Charity, Emmitsburg, Maryland (hereafter ASJPH), 1-3-3-23B, 58. Quoted in Joseph I. Dirvin CM, The Soul of Elizabeth Seton: A Spiritual Portrait (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990), p. 103. ,l Ec. 848. ~2 Joseph I. Dirvin C2vl, Louise de Marillac (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1970), p. 22. ~3 Anna Maria 1795-1812, William 1796-1868, Richard 1798-1823, Catherine 1800-1891, and Rebecca Mary 1802-1816. ~4 31 December 1799, ASJPH 1-3-3-3:1. ,5 See "Light," in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 1. ,6 Antonio and Filippo Filicchi, devout Catholics who lived in Livorno (Leghorn), were longtime business associates of the Setons. Filippo married Mary Cowper in Boston; Antonio's wife was Amabilia Baragazzi. ,7 See letter to Rebecca Seton, 5 March 1804, in Elizabeth Barley Seton: Collected Writings, 3 vols. projected, ed. Regina Bechde SC and Judith Metz SC (New York: New City Press, 2000), Vol. 1, p. 294. ~8 To Julia Scott, 5 March 1805, in Bechde and Metz, Elizabeth Barley Seton, Vol. 1, p. 345. ~gJoumal for Amabilia Filicchi, 27 February 1805, Ash Wednesday, in Bechde and Metz, Elizabeth Bayley Seton, Vol. 1, p. 375. 20 To Vincent de Paul, 24 August before 1650, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 341. 2~ "Renunciation of Self," in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 720. 22 Dirvin, Louise de Marillac, p. 87. See also "On the Love of Our Vocation and on Helping the Poor," 13 February 1646, in Conferences of Vincent de Paul to the Daughters of Charity, ed. and trans. Joseph Leonard CM (Westminster, Md.: Christian Classics, 1968), Vol. 1, p. 217. zs To Catherine Gesse, 4 May 1659, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 639. 24 See "On the Love of Our Vocation," in Conferences of Vincent de Review for Religious Paul to the Daughters of Charity, Vol. 1, p. 223, and "On Serving the Sick and the Care of One's Health," 11 November 1657, also in Conferences, Vol. 3, p. 292. 2s "Instructions to the Sisters Who Were Sent to Montreuil," October 1646, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 773. 26 To the Sisters of the H6tel-Dieu of Nantes, 13 July 1658, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, pp. 600-601. 27 To Sister C~cile Agn~s, 4 May 1650, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 320. 28 See "On the Spirit of the Company," 9 February 1653, in Conferences of Vincent de Paul, Vol. 2, p. 204; also Vincent de Paul to Anne Hardemont, 24 November 1658, in Vincent de Paul, Cor-respondence, Conferences, and Documents, ed. and trans. Marie Poole DC (New York: New City Press, 1997), Vol. 7, pp. 396-397. 29 Ec. 994. 3o To Mathurine Gu6rin, 23 December 1659, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 662. 31 To Our Very Dear Sisters, the Daughters of Charity at Nantes, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 197. ~2 Ec. 845. 33 "Thoughts of Mademoiselle Le Gras On [the] Vocation of [the] Sisters of Charity," trans. Elizabeth Ann Seton, in Reflections of Saint Louise, ASJPH 1-3-3-24B. This manuscript in Elizabeth Seton's own handwriting is the first English version of the final book of Nicolas Gobillon's/~e de Mademoiselle Le Gras. 34 To Philip Filicchi, Baltimore, 21 January 1809, in Kelly and Melville, Elizabeth Seton, p. 244. 3s To Rev. Simon Gabriel Brute, November n.d., ASJPH 1-3-3- 12:81. 36 "The Sisters of Charity meditate on the service of God," ASJPH 1-3-3-20E, 37. 37 To Julia Scott, 2 March 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:76. 38 To Rose Stubbs, Baltimore, 20 February 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3- 2:103. 39 Dear Remembrances, ASJPH 1-3-3-26A, quoted in Kelly and Melville, Elizabeth Seton, p. 352. 40To Julia Scott, 20 July 1810, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:83. 41To Julia Scott, 23 March 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:77. 42To Eliza Sadler, Baltimore, 20January 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3-7:35. 43To Julia Scott, 29 October 1812, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:95. ~ "Exercise of the Presence of God," ASJPH 1-3-3-23B, 57, quot'ed May-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit in Dirvin, Soul of Elizabeth, .pp. 102-103. 45 To Cecilia Seton, 1 October 1803, Bechtle and Metz, Elizabeth Bayley Seton, Vol. 1, p. 224. 46 First Council Book," Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph's, 20 August 1814, ASJPH. 47 To Julia Scott, 20 September 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:79. 48 See Dirvin, Soul of Elizabeth, p. 74. 49 To Julia Scott, 20 July 1810, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:83. 50 To Rev. Simon Gabriel Brute, 22 September 1812, ASJPH 1-3-3- 12:33, quoted in Dirvin, Soul of Elizabeth, p. 82. 5t To Rebecca Seton, 20th [November 1803]. Archives Mount St. Vincent, Sisters of Charity of Saint Vincent de Paul of New York, N/P 110: M, II, 12. 52 To Archbishop Carroll, 6 August 1809, Archives of the Archdiocese of Baltimore 7M4. 53 To Julia Scott, 20 May 1815, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:106. 54 ASJPH 1-3-3-12:44, n.d. Psalm 83 (Ps. 84 in present-day Catholic Bibles) and Psalm 41 (Ps. 42) are prayers of longing for God. 55 To Antonio Filicchi, 22 May 1810, quoted in Kelly and Melville, Elizabeth Seton, p. 280. s6 Kelly and Melville, Elizabeth Seton, p. 327. 57 To Mary FitchBayley Bunch, 26.June 1819, ASJPH 1-3-3-7:88. 58 To Antonio Filicchi, 6 May 1805, in Bechde and Metz, Elizabech Barley Seton, Vol. 1, p. 362. 59 "Account of the Pilgrimage to Chartres," October 1644, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 122. 6o To Cecilia Seton, Friday, July [1806], ASJPH 1-3-3-8:92. 6, Law, Mother Seton Nobles by Simon Gabriel Bruti, p. 26. 6z See Joan Chittister OSB, Fire in These Ashes. 63 To Cecilia Seton, 19 November 1802, ASJPH 1-3-3-8:87. 64 "Thoughts of Mademoiselle Le Gras on [the] Vocation of [the] Sisters of Charity," trans. Elizabeth Ann Seton, in Reflections of Saint Louise. Review for Religious REGINA SIEGFRIED From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation, from ASCs to Adorers ~thodate smcoritbivea tietss ca hcaornigsmreg? aWtiohna tto p ursoem dpiftfse trhenatt tsearmmein coolomgy-munity to find another name for itself, for use within the com-munity and for others' use too? The Adorers of the Blood of Christ have recently experienced these two developments. For a community of women religious whose charism is rooted in a cen-tral mystery of our redemption, the answers to those questions flow from a developing appreciation of our rich charism. Some excellent recent studies of religious life and charism provide the background for this article.~ But, rather than focus-ing on distinctions and nuances of charisms, this article takes note of one congregation's growing understanding of its charism and maintains that "history changed the expression of our charism," as Joe Nassal CPPS says in "Reclaiming Our Name.''2 While 19th-century terms often sound antiquated to 2 lst-cen-tury ears, the founding charism, now expressed in today's lan-guage, still resonates for our' congregation. In a letter to Biagio Valentini CPPS, dated 28 June 1841, Maria de Mattias, founder of the congregation, wrote: "The Regina Siegfried ASC, known to many of our readers, writes from the Department of Theological Studies; Saint Louis University; P.O. Box 56907; St. Louis, Missouri 63156. May-June 2002 SiegiCried * From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation spirit of this holy work., is all charity., charity toward God and the dear neighbor." The preface to the 1857 constitution describes the charism in these words: Now this our lowly Congregation that lives and labors under the glorious title of the most precious Blood of Jesus Christ must be patterned and shaped into a living image of that divine charity with which this ¯ divine blood was shed and of which it was and is sign, expression, measure, and pledge. Maria de Mattias understood our sharing in the redemption in terms of our practice of "charity toward God and the dear neigh-bor." In violent 19th-century Italy, where political and social strife were the reality of life, Maria de Mattias knew that the "divine charity with which this divine blood was shed" spoke to the hearts of her "dear neighbors," especially the women and children, who needed education and longed to hear a word of peace. Recent Developments in the Founding Charism After Vatican Council II, the congregation, now worldwide, missionary, and ministering in truly needy places, rephrased the founding charism in its 1968 "Life Charter," and kept the same wording in the 1992 revision of the constitution: Our charism as Adorers of the Blood of Christ is deeply rooted in the death-resurrection mystery of Jesus. Ours is a paschal identity, signed in the blood of the Lamb. As a congregation we are to bear witness in hope and joy to the living presence in our world today of Christ's adoring, redeeming love, which gives meaning to human suffering and can render it power-fully liberating and life-giving. (§22, "Paschal Mystery in Our Charism") Although the title of our congregation has changed slightly over the years, "adorers" has always been a decisive part. The original document, written in Maria's own hand, has "Adorers of the Divine Blood." A later shift was to "Adorers of the Blood of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." In 1968 the congregation's name was changed from "Sisters Adorers of the Most Precious Blood" to "Adorers of the Blood of Christ" to reflect a more contemporary and holistic under- Review for Religious standing of the theology of the Blood of Christ. The United States expression of the charism moved from devotionalism to a concentration on the paschal mystery. We began to give more attention to life, death, and resurrection in the life of Jesus, in the life of the church, in the life of the congregation, and in its members' lives. Immersed in this mystery of our redemption through community education and personal prayer, we hoped to grow to be "more credible witness[es] of God's tender love, of which the blood of Jesus is vibrant sign and unending covenant pledge" (Life Charter, §2). Becoming credible witnesses meant (and still means) living lives of simplicity, involvement in social-justice issues, solidarity with the poor, and improving our community living through communication workshops, conflict resolution, and prayer. Reflecting on the intensely apostolic implications of the charism helped us understand more fully that ministry flows from prayer and prayer floods ministry, much as the classic "Gift of the Nile" provided thriving stands of wheat. "Adorers" in our tide is contemplative; "Blood of Christ" keeps us mindful of the work of redemption. The one title expresses the unity of con-templation and mission. Along with other communities, we researched our roots, wrote histories, and reclaimed a charism that had been in us from the beginning. We .were proud to be Adorers of the Blood of Christ, confident that our paschal-mystery charism continues to be a fiery and energizing spirit for the church and us. The United States expression of the charism moved from devotionalism to a concentration on the paschal mystery. From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation In "Reclaiming Our Name," Joe Nassal CPpS writes: "The charism does not change . What changes is our response that is shaped by the currents of history." This is precisely what hap-pened to the Adorers of the Blood of Christ and to other May-June 2002 Siegfried ¯ From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation Precious Blood congregations in the early 1990s. After our two decades of highlighting the paschal-mystery facet of the charism, historical events drew our attention, prayer, and reflection to another facet of our theologically complex charism. Our international congregation has a province in Bosnia and had United States missionaries in Liberia, West Africa. In the early 1990s war raged in both places. While we dreaded that sisters might be killed in Bosnia, it was the five United States Adorers shot and killed in Liberia in October 1992 that gave the Croatian sisters who ministered in Bosnia the courage to stay with the people, to witness to peace, and to attempt to bring reconciliation there. Matija Pavic, one of the Croatian Adorers who experienced the war and destruction of that country, wrote: Since their martyrdom I can say we feel greater close-ness among us, at the level of the province and of the congregation as well . We experienced the truth of the Word that we are called to witness Christ even to shedding of our own blood. We were overwhelmed by feelings of worry, compassion, and prayer; it was as if their suffering spilled over into us.3 Reconciliation is p.ossible only when we have embraced the paschal mystery. The violent shedding of blood in our lifetime--in South Africa, Central and South America, Croatia, Bosnia, Rwanda, and Indonesia, in the crime and violence on U.S.A. streets, and in the terrorist attacks here, there, and there too--this bloodshed cries for reconciliation rather than revenge. As Adorers, we understand the seemingly impossible hope that the shedding of the Blood of Christ gives to Christianity. Christ's death was not the end, but the beginning of salvation and reconciliation. So, too, the bloodshed and suffering of our world today need not be just a sad series of endings; it can be the beginning of a new, though painful, reconciliation for this world of ours today. While bloody violence in South Africa and Central America and elsewhere horrified us, much of it was far away from our-selves, or so it seemed. Liberia and Bosnia, similarly far away, were made personal, close up, and full of grief for us Adorers because of the presence, suffering, and death of sisters of ours in those countries. We were now immediate sufferers, with raw Review for Religious and public sorrow. We knew, however, that our sisters gave their lives in the service of the Liberian people and that the Croatian sisters of our congregation willingly suffered along with their people. As Robert Schreiter CPPS has written, "repentance can orig-inate from the side of those who have perpetrated violence, but reconciliation and forgiveness must come from the side of those who have suffered violence.''4 Revenge is anger with an ugly face and the wielding of weapons. The retaliator is reduced to the level of the perpetrator; revenge continues the cycle of violence, spinning it out of control into more madness. Reconciliation is love tempered by suffering, immersing the wounded in the depths of the paschal mystery of our redemption. Reconcilers seek to restore wholeness, and not cause more fragmentation and division. Reconciliation and revenge are not mutually exclusive things separated by an unbridgeable chasm. Rather, they are participants in a con-versation earnestly seeking deeper understanding. For either partner to demonize the other destroys the communication. In a homily during a prayer service for peace shortly after 11 September 2001, Joan Range ASC told us "we must reflect on the cost of bringing peace through reconciliation." She prayed that Jesus would "heal our wounds and give us [his] Spirit so that we can be ambassadors of [his] reconciling presence in the world." Peace and peacemaking on many levels become the work of those who reconcile. Robert Schreiter describes three characteristics of the spir-ituality of reconciliation: an attitude of listening and waiting, attention and compassion, and a postexilic stance.5 As we tell our own stories of the violence done to us, we learn to listen to other sufferers, to wait with them as the pain becomes trans-formative. Reconciliation keeps us conscious of the suffering of others; we become compassionate in ways we never dreamed possible. We learn to live in a new place, beyond the circum-stances that abruptly or gradually exiled us from our former existence: "For those who are reconciled, reconciliation becomes Reconcilers seek to restore wholeness, and not cause more fragmentation and division. May-~une 2002 Sie~ffHed ¯ From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation a calling. They move to a wholly new place, from which they call oppressors to repentance and serve in a prophetic way for the whole of society.''6 From ASCs to Adorers Why, in the last year or two, have we in the United States province of the Adorers of the Blood of Christ begun to refer to ourselves as "Adorers" instead of using the convenient acronym "ASCs"? (Our website is now even !) Is it merely a way to greater name-recognition, an attempt to dis-tance ourselves from the elaborate code of Catholic religious-congregation abbreviations? While Adorers seems easier to understand and to have better name recognition, I think there is more to it than that. The shift from ASCs to Adorers highlights the contemplative dimension of the charism and provides for the balance of prayer in the midst of activity. Helen Lindsey ASC believes that "Adorer is a statement of who we are; adoration is what establishes the uniqueness of our charism.''7 We have become comfortable with "Adorers" because we have contemplated the paschal mystery, we now realize and internalize more fully what reconciliation means and demands, and we wonder where next the vitality of our charism will lead us. Perhaps Maria de Mattias sensed the link between adoration and reconciliation when she wrote to her bishop on 13 November 1838 that our work is to "establish that beautiful order of things which the great Son of God came to establish in his blood." Contemplation and adoration urge us to reconcili-ation and restoration of right relationships. Theresa Wetta ASC succinctly describes the unfolding of the charism when she says: Reconciliation as a current expression of our charism was prompted, I believe, by the work the CPPS men were doing on spirituality coupled with the increasing need for reconciliation in our more violent and disturbed world. Love and unity have always been expressions of our charism. Now we see love and unity achieved through efforts at reconciliation--the same deep union that Jesus achieved for/with us through the shedding of his blood.8 Review for Religious While this article concentrates on one small community, I think it has implications beyond the Adorers of the Blood of Christ. If we believe that all religious congregation charisms are vibrant, flaming gifts and graces given to our founders and living in us, they do indeed grow, develop, and breathe in us for today's world. Communities can trace the expansion and maturing of their foundational charism to discover how that gift is still relevant, appropriate, and significant in contemporary society. Notes ~ See Marianne Stevens RSM, "Revitalizing Charisms Inspiring Religious Life," and Joseph Nassal CPPS, "Reclaiming Our Name," Review for Religious 53, no. 6 (November-December 1994): 847-859 and 840-846, respectively; Margaret Susan Thompson, "Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understand Better the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregations," Review for Religious 58, no. 3 (May-June 1999): 230-250; Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, Finding the Treasure (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000): chaps. 9 and 10. z Review for Religious 53, no. 6 (November-December 1994): 843. 3 Email to author, July 2001; trans. Viktorija Tomic ASC. 4 Robert J. Schreiter CPPS, Reconciliation: Mission and Ministry in a Changing Social Order (Maryknoli: Orbis Books, 1992), p. 21. See also Joseph Nassal CPPS, Premeditated Mercy: A Spirituality of Reconciliation (Leavenworth: Forest of Peace Publishing, 2000), for another fine study of reconciliation. s See Schreiter, Reconciliation, pp. 70-73. 6 Schreiter, Reconciliation, p. 73. 7 Helen Lindsey ASC in email to author, 31 December 2001. 8 Therese Wetta ASC in email to author, 24 January 2002. May-June 2002 DEBORAH M. CERULLO Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commonness in Consecrated Life religious life culture Much is being written these days concerning where we are currently situated in religious life. Some are calling it the dark night of the souU Others see it as a time for courageous waiting,2 comparing it to being inside a cocoon, developing as we are meant to develop, but at risk of being impatiently opened too soon? While these images are helpful, especially as they allay some of the fears that surround the uncer-taihty of our times, I wonder if there is more clarity about who we are becoming than we sometimes give ourselves credit for. We have spent many years devel-oping those aspects of our life of faith that we share with others' outside our communities, including spirituality, ministry, community, and even charism. We have deconstructed our boundaries and empha-sized an inclusiveness in keeping with Vatican Council II's renewal of the universal call to holiness. As our understanding of what we share with others continues to develop, we are now also beginning to hear the call Deborah M. Cerullo $$ND wrote "Charism and Membership" in our September-October 1999 issue. She is visiting associate clinical professor of law at Boston College Law School; 885 Centre Street; Newton, Massachusetts 02459. Review for Religious to discover our distinctiveness. We are being asked to explore what makes the lifestyle of religious life distinctive, not because it is better or holier, but simply because it is different. This article will explore questions about distinctiveness, diversity, and commonness as we continue our movement from the high-walled boundaries of the pre-Vatican II era to our cur-rent search for new boundaries. It will also propose one method that religious institutes might use to answer these questions. My bias in this project is a belief that we are in a criti-cal time. If we wish to sus-tain the distinctiveness that is religious life, we must deal with our diversity and externalize our new ~reality in a more common way. My thoughts are from the view-point of one who did not experience religious life before or during most of its Religious life is a lifestyle that inculcates and fosters interior and exterior habits that have proved helpful in following Jesus Christ closely. deconstruction, having entered in the mid 1980s. I do not claim that others who entered when I did necessarily have the same thoughts as I do, nor do I think that only those who entered after Vatican II have thoughts like mine, but I do think that we who never experienced religious life's preconciliar uniformity have a different perspective on "commonness" than those who did.4 From my perspective commonness is not the same as uni-formity. I take for granted that diversity is good and that respect for the needs of individuals is important for our future. Distinctiveness and Diversity The distinctiveness of religious life comes from its primary focus, which is God. It is a lifestyle that inculcates and fosters interior and exterior habits that have proved helpful in follow-ing Jesus Christ closely. The means that are most distinctive of the lifestyle of consecrated life are the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, shared governance and finances, and a perma-nent commitment to religious life. Except that unmarried lay life excludes sexual activity, no other Christian lifestyle requires May-June 2002 Cerullo ¯ Distinctive'hess, Diversity, and Commonness --- 294A people to renounce private property, sexual activity, marriage, and autonomy (sharing financial resources with other members and abiding by decisions made by other members), all on a permanent basis. As religious life does too, other Christian lifestyles, of course, call for ministry, community, prayer, and social justice. For some, these calls come from within the charism of a par-ticular religious family through various associate programs,s Although religious and others still ask whether those making only temporary commitments might be invited to full mem-bership or whether some dedicated people should be invited to make permanent but partial commitments that would, say, include participation in government but not the life of the vows, these are questions without present answers. Meanwhile, other questions about joining with others in ministry, promoting social justice, forming alternative communities, and praying and grow-ing spiritually have all been answered with a resounding yes, and the only questions left are whether there need be any limits to this sharing. There are diverse views in religious life today and diverse choices being made. I believe that exploring this diversity is crucial to understanding the distinctiveness of religious life.6 Because being nonjudgmental and tolerant is such a strong cul-tural value today, many have adopted a live-and-let-live attitude that can prevent dialogue from being meaningful. While this attitude reduces tension and conflict within our congrega-tions, there is danger of our not engaging one another at enough depth to keep our passion alive, the passion inside each of us that enlivens our commitments for shared mission. In discussing diversity we must ask whether there are essen-tials in the living o]: consecrated life beyond which we venture at our peril. If so, how do we decide what they are? For exam-ple, most would agree that an active sexual relationship is incon-sistent with the commitment to consecrated celibacy. The boundary is fairly well established, with little, though some, disagreement. Even the disagreement, however, is more in the-oretical terms thari in. open behavior. Can we identify similar boundaries for gospel poverty and apostolic obedience? Gospel poverty seems to be an area that permits a wide variance of opinion, but at the same time includes silent disapproval of the Review for Religious way some members' choices undermine community relation-ships. Apostolic obedience seems to enjoy wide support for the view that the distinctiveness of our living the vow of obedience is limited to who we invite into our discernments (that is, lead-ership instead of a spouse or friend), rather than something qualitatively different. Even here, however, there would be wide disagreement about how and when leadership is invited into our personal discernments. Although these issues are significant, the questions sur-rounding the areas that we share with nonmembers are, I believe, even more significant. In our age of respect for the individual and in our reaction against religious life's preconciliar unifor-mity, we are strongly supportive of a wid~ diversity of choices in ministry and in styles of community and prayer, including when and with whom we engage in these aspects of our life. This diversity is so great that many of us have difficulty finding members with whom to share our work, homes, and prayer, especially on a daily basis. For like-minded members to come together once or twice a month is seen as an acceptable alter-native to daily sharing, especially by those whose entered before Vatican II, the majority of our membership. This opinion is not shared by most members who entered after the council and is a growing source of difficulty.7 This issue is at the heart of our different belonging needs. For mem-bers who have a well-developed sense of belonging after decades of membership, living, working, or even praying with other members of the congregation does not appear to be a strong need so long as the intermittent connection is maintained. The same practice would also likely satisf3, those who do not have a strong sense of belonging within the congregation, but still desire some of the benefits of membership. The question that remains is whether our diverse choices about ministry, community, and shared prayer so detract from our distinctiveness that our current support for them will con-tribute more to the loss of our lifestyle than to its flourishing, or whether the values and social movement that generated this diversity are so important that diversity must be allowed to con-tinue unabated. VChile in theory the answer probably lies some-where between these extremes, that middle ground can be achieved only if enough members keep trying to achieve it. May-.~une 2002 Cerullo ¯ Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commonness The area where we seem most united, with very little articulated diversity, is in our social-justice views. The area where we seem most united, with very little artic-ulated diversity, is in our social-justice views. Vghile tolerance of different perspectives on living the vows, prayer, community life, and ministry are, in my view, the norm, this is not true of our justice perspectives. In her recent book Finding the Treasure, Sandra Schneiders has gone so far as to suggest that this social-justice work on behalf of the poor and marginalized (which she calls the prophetic dimen-sion of religious life) isin fact a primary distinguishing characteristic of religious life.~ While Schneiders's work as a whole is a major contribution to any analysis of contemporary religious life, this assertion seems to me quite extraordinary, con-sidering the latitude she gives in all other categories. Her descrip-tion of our prophetic role as standing on the margins of church and society, lamenting the iniustices of our world, and offering hope to the oppressed seems appropriate for some of our mem-bership, for whom social justice is a passion. It seems all the more appropriate, then, for some congregations whose charism involves such social protest. But, though I believe that most of us would support and affirm the need for a social-justice dimen-sion in our lives and our congregations, I am not convinced that we would agree that this dimension is the distinguishing char-acteristic that all members must espouse with the fervor and ded-ication of a prophet. Rather, many would assert that our prophet role as witnesses of hope and love in a broken world is meant for everyone, and that service to others is legitimate in its own right, not simply as it affects the poor and marginalized. But, even if I am wrong and most religious would claim that social justice deserves a primacy in our lives, where does that leave us on the issue of diversity? Is there a place among us for those who do not experience social justice as the primary motivating or sus-taining aspect of our vocation? What about those with minority political views? These examples highlight the difficulties we are experienc-ing as we decide what areas of our lives to emphasize and what, Review for Religious if any, boundaries should be set or maintained. Is it ever appro-priate to claim that a practice or belief is normative, or would we too likely return to a conformity that has been rejected or a majority rule that is not sufficiently respectful of individual per-spectives? I believe that how we answer these questions together within our own individual institutes will determine whether we hold on to the distinctiveness that is religious life, at least in its North American manifestation. Externalizing Our Common Reality The renewal of Vatican II brought many changes to reli-gious life, deconstructing a world where the externals had become ends in themselves. Externals became suspect, and inter-nalizing new understandings of our lifestyle became the norm. Diversity and respect for individual choices became so highly valued that the value of commonness for the sake of shared mis-sion was overwhelmed. Our challenge now is to discover ways to integrate these values so that the common life may reemerge, not in its preconciliar form, but in a way that maintains dis-tinctiveness and provides religious with sufficient support. One way to do this, I believe, is to identify the parts of our new real-ity that we regard as common and to give them external expres-sion. Symbols, myths, public rituals, and expected standards of behavior are identity markers which we need in order to embody our commitment? We must do this in a way that respects legit-imate diversity and individual needs, but does not make diver-sity and individualism ends in themselves, valued at the expense of the common life. So how might religious, together, go about answering some of these questions? In my own community we have begun with a process of theological development, especially in the areas of Christology and ecclesiology as they relate to diverse world-views from the classical, modern, and postmodern eras. Other communities are doing the same~° or are engaging in ongoing dialogue on significant.theological issues, i1 Another step in this process could include corporate theological reflection on the various elements discussed above. A group would discuss these in relation to their lived experience and with a view toward tak-ing action. It would aim at practical action, not theory, working May-June 2002 Cerullo ¯ Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commonness out of specific contexts rather than generic truths and drawing upon lived experience as much as classical texts. It would cor-relate this experience with the sources and texts of the religious tradition and then draw out practical implications for living.12 The action goal would be commitment to living these practical implications. This process could be used in local communities, geo-graphical areas, provinces, or even entire congregations. It could involve members, associates, coworkers, or guest contributors, but decision making would be left to those planning to live the commitment. Givefi the potential difficulty of this level of dia-logue, perhaps the use of certain rules for dialogue would be useful, such as those articulated in the Common Ground ini-tiative, where Catholics with differing viewpoints are encouraged to dialogue:13 ¯ We should recognize that no single group or view-point has a complete monopoly on the truth. ¯ We should test all proposals for their pastoral realism and potential impact on living individuals. ° We should presume that those with whom we differ are acting in good faith. ¯ We should put the best possible construction on differing positions, addressing their strongest points rather than seizing upon the most vul-nerable aspects. ¯ We should be cautious [about] ascribing motives. ¯ We should bring the church [or, in our case, religious life] to engage the realities of contemporary cul~re by acknowledging both our cul-ture's valid achievements and real dangers. ¯ It could be helpful to have a skilled facilitator who is not a member of the group. Such a person can help participants to hear all voices in the dialogue, not only those that are loudest or most articulate. Another way for the group as a whole to hear different voices might be to practice by bringing together smaller groups that have types of ministry in common or simi-lar ages or similar community lifestyle experience, and then dis-cussing differences that occur even among themselves. In all such efforts, what is important is the honesty and depth of our dialogue and a true commitment to its results, neither of which is quickly or easily achieved. Summing up, I believe that we are in a critical time in reli- Review for Religious gious life when we must deal with our diversity and externalize our new reality in a more common way if we wish to sustain consecrated life's distinctiveness--the very reason why we entered religious life. The development of new symbols, myths, public rituals, and expected standards of behavior--or perhaps reclaiming some of the old with a new understanding of their meaning in our lives--is essential if we are to survive as a dis-tinct lifestyle. If we identify, and perhaps create, more of what can hold us together in this life we share, it will lead to a deep-ening of our individual and community spiritual life and empower us for more effective ministry. I believe, too, that more will want to join us if we can tell them with greater clarity who we are and how our life is different from theirs. While this can never be the primary motivation for our choices, without new members it will not matter how much diversity, respect for indi-viduals, prophetic witness, or postmodern sensibility religious life fosters, except in the lives of its last generation. Notes ~ Sandra M. Schneiders II-hVl, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial Context, vol. 1 of Religious Life in a New Millennium (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000o), chap. 5. 2 Barbara Fiand SND, Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1996). 31 could not locate the source of this image, but I remember read-ing it on more than one occasion. 4 See Patricia Wittberg SC, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), p. 126. s See John Paul II, Vita consecrata, §54. 6 1 am indebted to Mary Maher SSND for first raising this point in a workshop titled "SSND: Living in Many Worlds," held in 1999 in Chattawa, Mississippi. 7 See Catherine Bertrand SSND, "Common Threads: Are We Weaving or Unraveling?" Review for Religious 57, no. 6 (November- December 1998): 566-577. 8 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 137-149. 9 Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR, "Refounding by Honing the Purpose Concept," Review for Religious 57, no. 4 (July-August 1998): 417. ~0 Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary have been leaders in developing materials for this process and have been gener- May-June 2002 Cerullo ¯ Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commonness ous in sharing them with others. And see Marie Chiodo DW and Mary Irving SSND, "An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating," Review for Religious 57, no. 3 (May-June 1998): 247-259. n For example, the Congregation of Notre Dame, with whom I live, is engaged in such a dialogue on the topic of Eucharist. 12 See Robert L. Kinast, What Are They Saying about Theological Reflection? (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000). 13 National Pastoral Life Center, Called to Be Catholic: Church in a Time of Peril, Origins 26, no. 11 (29 August 1996), pp. 169-170 passim. Walking by St. Cecilia's Convent Still taking that side of the street And the convent's brick sidewalk For the memories that it had: Behind bricks" barred recesses, the lives Lived by bells that to children Seemed gladder than children's; what wrinkles Of feature or fate those wimples hid, stayed Hidden from us, singing gaily "St. C! St. C!" For the school team. Where is she now, Virginal martyr and mistress of musics, Who sheltered our years and sheltered Her servants, the habited girls? And if I knocked at her convent And said, "Take me back in" to my innocence, Sisters, to a life lived by bells, Would I find her and them? or myself only Behind bricks still quixotic as ever, Impossibiy dreaming the St. C Of me has yet to begin. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious NIHAL ABEYASINGHA The Culture of Religious Life within Asian Culture Tqe battle cry of the Fr,e, nch Revolution was "Liberty, uality, and Fraternity. The revolution in France and other revolutions that followed in Europe are well known. Two hundred years later it is almost ironical that Neil Kinnoch, onetime transport commissioner for the European Union, would almost parody that battle cry, saying "A car, a pair of jeans, and a burger are the new evidence of liberty, fraternity, and equality." Innovations within a Culture Innovations almost always stem from individuals. Yet, as Max Weber has remarked, no intellectual has ever established a religion. What becomes of the innovations is what the many other individuals who constitute society make of them. Often the results have little to do with the intention of the innovator2 To have some idea, then, of the likely direction an innovation will take, one has to look at who constitute the society into which the innovation is introduced. People differ not in soundness of reasoning, but in the principles and modalities that govern its exercise. Human experience is shaped, molded, and in a sense constituted by cultural and linguistic forms. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR wrote two articles for our pages in 1999. He may be addressed during his sabbatical year (till mid January 2003) at St. Hilary Parish; 5465 Citronell Avenue; Pico Rivera, California 90660. May-June 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life within Asian Culture The vast majority of international religious institutes rose in the West, with its long Christian tradition. Only after the 16th century were numbers of them planted in Asia. Of these, many accepted local members for the first time only in the late 19th century. With few exceptions, the first Asian superiors were named only in the mid 20th century. Today there are very few foreign religious in Asia (except for some that have come to Asia to seek members to staff their establishments in the West). Hardly any foreigners are superiors. The organization and direction of religious life have been entrusted to local personnel. But the principles and modalities that govern the course of religious life as lived in Asia need to be reflected on more carefully. The fact that international religious institutes are well established in India in terms of numbers, buildings, and involvement in many forms of apostolate does not mean that these institutes have adapted themselves to the Asian context. The question that needs to be raised is: Do these religious institutes give indications of the innovative witness of their founders and foundresses according to the principles and modalities of the functioning of the Asian mind? Unfortunately, it would seem that many Asian branches of religious institutes seek direction from their general administrations for the resolution of their local problems. The general administrations are for the most part non-Asian, and so the question arises: On what principles and modalities of reason do they offer direction'to their units in Asia? That one must keep the institution going at all costs because most present-day vocations come from Asia and Africa? Or that what the local unit decides must be right? Or that what the local unit judges to be good is good also for the institute? These modalities of reasoning can be legitimate and valid in specific instances, but are they the correct general modalities for the Asian context? The numerical growth of religious life in Asia is evident. These numerous Asian members must certainly not function or seem to function like foreign implants within the Asian culture. On the other hand, they must not simply be part and parcel of the Asian culture. Religious life must always be a challenge to the existing culture. It must be an innovation, one that witnesses to the Source of its incarnate newness. The present article oudines some considerations, in the working out of this process of Review for Religious adaptation to Asian culture--not merely reflecting the culture, but challenging it to conversion. I shall do this in the form of theses for discussion (italicized below). They are not exhaustive treatments of the issues. The Movement of Adaptation The movement of adaptation #from the gospel to the culture and back to the gospel, which is then proclaimed in its originality in a cultural modality. In his address to the first meeting of the Pastoral Council for Culture, Pope John Paul 1I pointed out that the Vatican Council committed "the whole church to listen to modern man in order to understand him and to invent a new kind of dialogue which would permit the originality of the gospel to be carried to the heart of contemporary modalities." The human situation, however, is ambiguous. People have forces in their own hands: The operative question is: What is worth losing in a culture in favor of what is to be gained in life ? either they control them or they become enslaved by them. In every instance, then, the operative question is: What is worth losing in a culture in favor of what is to be gained in life? Life is not just a dimension of the human situation that involves the satisfaction of biological or aesthetic or other needs. It is, rather, the way revealed in Jesus Christ, and it is to this life that the Christian is committed. As Pope John Paul has said, "man is the way of the church." But "man" must be understood in terms of the man, Jesus Christ. It is the proclamation of Jesus Christ that is the mission of the church) It is through inculturation that the church becomes an intelligible sign of what it is and a more effective instrument of mission. Adaptation's Goal By their witness to escbatological values, religious are called to bring the Good News of conversion into the heart of the culture. May-d~ne 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life within Asian Culture (Religious institutes began as innovations; they must continue innovating or slowly fade away.) Pope John Paul has said that mission is contemplative action and active contemplation. Sometimes silent witness is the only way.3 Before him Pope Paul vI pointed out that "the gospel, and therefore evangelization, are certainly not identical with culture, and they are independent in regard to all cultures. Nevertheless, the kingdom which the gospel proclaims is lived by men who are profoundly linked to a culture, and the building up of the kingdom cannot avoid borrowing the elements of human culture or cultures . Therefore, every effort must be made to ensure a full evangelization of culture or, more correcdy, of cultures. They have to be regenerated by an encounter with the gospel,"4 beginning (we could add) with an encounter resulting in regeneration/conversion in the lives of Asian religious themselves. How does this happen? Perhaps the message to youth issued at the end of Vatican II can suggest a path. Each generation has to receive from its elders what they have to offer, but each generation is committed to build a better world than their elders had. In fact, the youth of today, despite many negative assessments of them, can surprise their elders. In 2000 almost a million young people gathered in Rome for the World Youth Day. The organizers were amazed at their restraint and gen-erosity. Founded as innovations, religious institutes challenge the existing forces within their culture by proclaiming the gospel afresh, bringing the good news that is able to convert and transform the culture. Such results follow in the early years, but new problems arise when the founding insight needs to be . adapted to circumstances and cultures that are quite different. As institutes increase numerically and spread geographically, their original creativeness requires some adaptation in ascetical practices, forms of work, lifestyle, and so forth. If the adaptation is not done carefully, religious life is likely to be of the world, not merely in it (rather than in the world and not of it). It would reflect the culture uncritically, without challenging it at all. Social structures in Asia, even at the present time, are feudals (at least in aspiration, if not always in fact). So the temptation in adaptation and proclamation would be toward conforming to social aspirations and doing the things that are respected and Review for Religious likely to gain recognition in society. But there must be no letup in looking for ways that the gospel and the charism (innovations, both of them) can retain their relevant originality in the Asian context. Adaptation in Context Adaptation needs to take place, for the sake of being relevant within the Asian cultural traditions. Otherwise there is danger of the message being unintelligible or thoroughly misunderstood. As has been pointed out, the Gospels can be seen as reflecting the minds of the particular evangelists. Mark is factual; Matthew is holistic and gives the big picture; Luke follows a step-by-step approach and is systematic; John preaches love. Similarly, the historical books of the Bible are factual; the prophetic books view present situations within the big picture as God might see it; the wisdom literature attempts to be syste,natic; and the psalms and the Canticle of Canticles are odes to love. All the books are valuable, and no book is less the word of God than the others. Only the modalities are different, re

Issue 50.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1991. ; Review Religious Volume 50 Number 5 September / October 1991 50 TM ANNIVERSARY VOLUME REVIEW FOR RI:.LIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telcphonc: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO and additional offices. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:\'~EW Foa R~:I,I(;IOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs; two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs¯ See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 REVIEW I.'Oa R~:t,tc, IOUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ° ST.LouIs, MO 63108 IIII III IIII II IIII III I PRISMS. What did you go out to the desert to see? A prophet? The question which Jesus asked his own people takes on a special poignancy for us toda~y in the Church. Our biblical tradition indicates that God raises up prophetic people in dark and difficult days. Because many see the time of renewal called for by Vatican II as a period of continuing strug-gle and tension--sometimes sadly with positions defended or fixed rather than with dialogue explored--affecting people and priests in parishes, bish-ops in national hierarchies, and religious in the same congregation, there is a greater tendency today to go running out, searching for a prophet. As usual there is also the temptation for some to play the prophet. But the prophetic tradition strongly emphasizes that tree prophets do not identify the role for themselves. God plucks people out of ordinary circum-stances, evokes some kind of personal conversion, and then speaks and works through them, even in their own reluctance for the role, and in their fear and trembling. Although we tend to apply the word prophet glibly to some modem-day leaders, educators, and writers, we perhaps are not far off the mark when we search for those movements and calls of God that come in incremental ways through ordinary-looking people and events. It is to acknowledge that prophets, like saints, have a range from "capital P" prophets (like our canonized "capital S" saints) with a major message of modeling and influence ~o the almost hidden (because of everydayness) small-letter prophets who in limited and confined ways raise questions, sug-gest new directions, make us uncomfortable, and at the same time give us hope. Prophets of lasting influence are s~arce at any time in our world's his-tory. Yet we may find it all too easy, even now, to mute the "smail p" prophet either ir~ our fixated search for major prophetic voices or in our disdain for less-than-radical calls. The even greater loss, however, happens when we may intentionally or unintentionally downplay our own lived (small p) prophetic witness to Christ's values--an integral part of our own chosen way of life. Review for Religious has been p~rivileged through the years to present voices of personal witness and articles of challenge and critique which repre-sent this common spectrum of our e ~eryday prophets. In this issue, "Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion" by Susan Rakoczy is a personal witness to 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 God's continuing call to go beyond a familiar homeland and to pay its enlivening costs---costs borne more within oneself than without. Jean Steffes considers directly in her article the theme of the prophetic-witness aspect of contemporary religious life. The articles by Giallanza, Levey, Arbuckle, and Mueller give further reflections on various aspects of religious life that affect its present and future witness. From the area of contemplation, the ground of all prophetic activity, Joseph Tetlow uses a very simple image from the changing seasons of the year to present an understanding of God's calls and our responses for a com-monplace continuity of spiritual growth. In a similar way Gerard Luttenberger sees through the contemplative Fourth Mansion of St. Ter6sa a way of praying apostolically. A prophetic relationship of faith with our United States culture grounds Hoffman's treatment of creative leisure and, in a very different fashion, Hinojosa's suggestions for formation, as he espe-cially has the Hispanic candidate in mind. Rywalt shares his experience of the sometimes dark journeying required of religious trying to follow God's lead in the transfer process in this consecrated lifeform. The prophetic and priestly people which we are will find fresh insight into the manna-food for our joumeying in Billy's "The Bread Kernel," clari-ty in Meyer's restating of the ministerial priesthood foundation through a deeper appreciation of an ambassador's role, and consolation in the gentle wisdom of living reflected in McDonald's "Faithful Servant." Perhaps, in our effort to identify prophets, McDonald's theme goes right to the heart of the matter. No truer discernment or greater tribute can be given to any prophet, spelled with large or small p, than to be identified, like Moses, as a faithful servant of God. David L. Fleming, S.J. Four Seasons of the Soul Joseph .4. Tetlow, SJ Father Tetlow wrote "The Mirror in the Field" for our November/December 1988 issue. His current address is Jesuit Hall; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. I~uring the experience of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, you have a sense of movement and of progress. Particularly during a nineteenth-annotation experience of them, you have the sense of getting along with things and of genuine growth in God. When you have finished the Exercises, if you are like many exercitants, you miss that sense of movement and progress. Even though you continue to pray as long and as seriously as you did during the Exercises, you may well come to wonder where "growth" has gone, and a sense of your life in Christ unfolding for you. You know how times of consolation and times of desola-tion mark spiritual growth or its absence, but this is the microeconomy of the spirit, a topological map of a mountain that does not tell you which range it is in or even which hemisphere. You might find some sense of getting along by applying the traditional phases or stages of spiritual growth. You would recognize, to start with, the stages of the purgative, illuminative, and unitive ways. You have heard of the Dark Nights, of the Senses and of the Soul. But reading these stages requires great expertness and an intense concentration on the interior life. You may find them of limited help in reading your growth in the Lord while you live an ordinary life in the world. Furthermore, these traditional stages of spiritual growth have focused tightly on the individual spirit. They do not comprehend a lot of the "your life world." They do not illuminate the interplay of others' needs and inter-ests with your own, or the tension between remaining faithful to your self and growing more faithful to those whom God gives you to love and be 643 644 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 loved by. Each of these traditional ways of gauging where you are in your interior life instructs you how to pray at a given time and what to pray about. They do not much tell you what to pray for. Now that you know the Spiritual Exercises, you might find it useful to think of phases or stages of the interior life in terms of the Four Weeks. You can take the Weeks as seasons distinct from one another. They really do match the phases or stages of growth that we go through as we live contem-platives in the active world. If you interpret your experience in these terms, you will not find a lot of instruction on what to pray about (that instruction will rise out of your current experience), but you will find sound instruction on what to pray for. The Seasons of the Four Weeks Think of the seasons not as four parts of one whole life, but as a cycle that we all go through in our life world. Consider life as a whole at this given moment, and picture how it is colored seasonally. The first season would be like this: You go along working hard and praying easily. You feel like springtime, and your whole self sprouts new life. Your life world seems filled with promise. Life is given to you, rising up from within your self and teeming all around you. In such a time, you are in the season of the Fourth Week. The truth is that Jesus came to "give you joy, and to the full," and he was transcendently powerful to achieve what he set out to achieve. As you know, we are created to live in consolation, which means that we share the sureness of the risen Christ that the reign of God comes, for each one of us and for all of humankind together. So we live in the joy of Christ, as we have a fight to do, and this is the Fourth Week. You enter Christ's joy, in work and in prayer. Ask yourself: During this springtime, what do you ask for? You go through times, as all of us do, of confusion and darkness, your inner world and life world matching. Your life world itself may be in tur-moil, and perhaps threatens your family, career, or health. All of us have experienced these times as wars succeed one another and one national crisis after another: toxic waste, the Savings and Loans debacle, the awesome national deficit. In a very real sense, when we suffer these times we are bear-ing the sins of all peoples--the sins of unjust rulers, of greedy people with economic power, of self-centered people who feed on us. In these times you feel powerless and perhaps even helpless. You live in depression or doubt or perhaps even jeopardy. In such a time you are walk-ing with Jesus Christ in his Passion. This is not merely metaphor: our Master warned us that we would feel persecuted and hunted, for if his life world Four Seasons of the Soul / 645 treated him as it did, then we are to anticipate faring no better. St. Paul said that we are to fill up the sufferings that Christ Jesus has still to undergo for the sake of his body, the Church. Sometimes we live in the Passion of Jesus, feeling the terrible weight of taking up our cross daily. In this wintry time of the Third Week, what grace gives you a sense of growth and movement? Again, at times you seem merely to be working along from day to day. You do not feel any great consolation or any notable desolation. You trust God by enacting your own desires and conscience and by doing the next good thing. You do not feel any great pressure to have life all figured out, or the vexing pressure of strong temptation to this or that sin you are prone to. You pray to the Father and listen to the Spirit. You live out your discipleship faithfully and enduringly. This is the Second Week, as you walk with Jesus of Nazareth, either in the long decades of his hidden life or in the brief exertions of his public life. It is full summertime, and you are growing in God. You take summertime concerns to prayer and stay with Jesus proclaiming his Good News. But summertime can seem lazy and unmoving. What grace will help you sense progress? Finally, there come times when you feel the weight of your own sin. You do again something that you thought you had truly put behind you. You fail to do something that you had set yourself most resolutely to do. You are in the First Week again. You find out that your ideal has little of the noble in it, or that your self-image includes falsehood, or that you have been acting as though you loathe your self and despise your life. Then you feel the deep burning of shame. Or you realize that you have been violating your own conscience, deliberately deceiving your own self and spreading your poison around you. Then you feel the icy sting of guilt. Yet all of this time you already know how God loves you, even how God keeps on being your Creator and Lord. This is the season of fall, when you join the cycle of life and death that belongs to this earth of ours. You flirt with spiritual death, but you know that you will not die, but live. You cannot doubt that God forgives again and again, and you take into your prayer that utter confidence in God's forgiving love. This is the season of the First Week. Once you have asked God's forgiveness, what else are we to ask for in order to have the experience of movement and growth? It is to find the answer to this question that you think in terms of the sea-sons of the Four Weeks. Other stages and phases instruct us in the kind of prayer we might give ourselves to. The "unitive way," for instance, suggests a prayer of deep quiet. Other stages help us hold onto the kind of faith and 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 hope we need to exercise. The Dark Night of the Senses helps us know that it is, indeed, faith we are exercising, and not doubt. Other stages or phases name kinds of temptation and grades of consolation and desolation. A pray-ing person who has been drawn to apophatic prayer will readily recognize daydreams of food as a desolation. But the stages and phases give little instruction on the very humble question of what, specifically, we are to ask for. Or perhaps more accurately, what instruction they do give is not readily accessible to the majority of praying Christians. "I Ask for What I Want" Matching the Four Weeks with the seasons of discipleship suggests immediately and accurately what you ought to ask God for. Each of the Weeks has a specific grace. These specific graces are precisely what we need in each of the four seasons of discipleship. When we feel the burning of shame or the icy sting of guilt, obviously, we ask forgiveness. Equally obviously, we receive this forgiveness even before we ask it. Then what? You would immediately reject dwelling on the shame or the guilt. You would repudiate self-lacerating examination. What you need is a sense of your complicity in humankind's sin, and a sense of how the disorder manifest in your life world lies waiting to manifest itself in yourself. You can ask for that plainly, and you will have a sense of getting on with God's project. You can also ask another gift of the First Week: the answer to the three questions in the colloquy of the first exercise. The deepest grace of the First Week is to be given eyes to see Jesus Christ. While you stand under the cross of Jesus Christ, you ask yourself, "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What might I do for Christ?" The growth and movement in answer to this prayer have to do with understanding the past and looking to the future. If you have been sinning, then start with how God succeeded in you, with what you have done for Christ. If you are acting sinfully, you need to attend to what else you are now doing: What are you doing for Christ? And as you repent yet again, you stand with Christ and ask what you might do for him and for his body the Church. This is the growth in the season of fall. A second season: of busyness. Your attention runs in a hundred direc-tions. You face concrete decisions hour by hour. You have to deal with oth-ers day after day. You have to remain authentic to your own self and grow more and more fully a member. Here, in this heated season of summer, you might ask most appropriately for the gift of the Second Week: to know Jesus Four Seasons of the Soul / 647 better, to love him more, and to go the way he goes. He has been through this summer and through the desert of busyness. For some the life of the Lord will be an inspiration (as Carl Gustav Jung said it ought to be). They will learn from Jesus of Nazareth how to relate in the dusty marketplace to the God who chooses to be father and mother to us. For others the life of the Lord will be an example for imitation (as the Church has taught since Jesus proclaimed himself Way, Truth, and Life). For all of us, growth in God means growth in loving Jesus of Nazareth who is the Christ. That is the grace you ask for in the summer, the Second Week. When winter comes upon your self and your life world, you cannot escape suffering. Well, in the Third Week, you have watched with Jesus through his Passion. Remember this accompaniment and what you asked for then. Perhaps you will ask to accept your suffering in compassion with Jesus suffering and to know shame "because the Lord is going to his suffering for my sins," while you have acted in complicity with all humankind in sinning. This is the grace of the first contemplation at midnight. In any pain or suffer-ing, growth will lie in and through compassion. You might be drawn, again, to ask that your own suffering somehow be "with Christ in sorrow, [your] anguish with Christ in anguish, [your] tears and deep grief because of the great affliction" Christ endured for you. This is a great gift, and those who embrace their own suffering in the world know what Jesus knew. This pain will end nothing, but will end; ifI can discern no movement toward life, I know my growth is where I am; God is faithful. This prayer to God transmutes a wintry time from merely a depression or recession or grave aggravation to a time of growth in Christ. Finally, when you live in happiness and your life world hums along in springtime, you can most reasonably beg God that you enter into the joy of Jesus Christ. There lies the way of movement and growth, first of all because you will not be immobilized by anxiety. We hold the happiness of earth tightly because it is given and taken away, apparently randomly. Unlike the joy of the earth, Jesus' joy is not given and taken away; it is given and to the full. Growth does not mean having things permanently or living secure or figuring everything out. All of these are illusory, and depending on any of them is writing on water. Growth for Christ's disciples entails precisely shaking off dependence on possessions and all defense against risks of personal encounter. You grow a more complete self with every deeper realization that God's is the initia-tive, the victory, which is Jesus' joy and glory. You grow more secure as you accept more and more fully that you did not earn life or joy and that, if you can make no demands, the One who gives constantly turns out more willing 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 to lavish gifts than you are to accept them. This is Jesus' joy and his glory. So in these springtimes we find our growth in begging "to be glad and rejoice intensely" not because of the great go6ds God is bestowing on us, but "because of the great joy and the glory of Christ our Lord." A Simple Matter of Moving Along Understand, the Four Weeks are not epigenetic stages that build one on another in succession, with the latest stage transmuting the earlier ones. This is the model used by Erik Erikson and the growth psychologists, and it is not appropriate here. The "seasons" mean something much simpler here. Nor does the word refer to an account of the adult life cycle, the "seasons. of a person's life" devised by Daniel Levinson and his colleagues. The "seasons" here are briefer and include not only internal dynamics but also the actuali-ties of your life world. As phases or stages, they would hardly be long-term and do not name permanent changes in the self. Think of it this way: Many skilled retreat directors begin an eight-day retreat by asking the retreatant what Week they are living. The retreat guide does not imply that the retreatant is going through a life cycle or.a phase with permanent effects--nothing so essential and long-range. The implica-tion is that we all go through certain seasoris and that we can usefully think of those seasons in terms of the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises. Many who have made the Spiritual Exercises yearn to keep the sense of progress and of forward motion that sustained them through the long days or months of prayer. They can help themselves do that by continuing one exer-cise that promoted that sense of progress during the Exercises: the preparato-ry prayer. Even those who turn to the Church's lectionary for the material of daily meditation or contemplation can ask for the special grace of the season they are in. They feel no unease or contradiction. On the contrary, they have a sense of familiarity and consonance, and a sense of getting on with life and with prayer. Few of us feel inclined to go back through the prayer texts and cycles of the Four Weeks, particularly over and over again. But you might find it useful to keep mindful of the special graces of the Weeks, and of the preparatory prayer. Re-creating Religious Life Joel Giallanza, C S. C Brother Joel recently completed his service in the ministry of provincial administra-tion and is currently Adjunct Retreat Director at Maryhill Renewal Center. His address is Maryhill Renewal Center; 600 Maryhill Road; Pineville, Louisiana 71360. /'~mong the principal tasks confronting religious life as the twenty-first cen-tury approaches is refoundation or, more descriptively, re-creation. While religious may not be completely comfortable with the demographics of increasing ages and decreasing numbers, they do not appear discouraged or despairing about the future: In fact, some communities have been reporting a modest and consistent increase in vocations and new apostolic ventures. Chapters, assemblies, and other gatherings of religious continue to search for the most effective means of responding to the needs of the Church and the culture in which they live. Among those means they assign high priority to ~'efounding or re-creating religious life itself. To that end, religious have explored the !ives and teachings of their founders and foundresses as well as the experiences and events which shaped the darly years of their communi-ties. The work now is to interpret those lives, teachings, experiences, and events for further practical application to contemporary religious life. The work now is to prepare for the future. Any creation, by its very nature, does not follow a predetermined blueprint. Nevertheless, there is one primordial model we can consider: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." These reflections will focus on the first three days of creation as a metaphor for the re-creation which religious need to undertake as they move toward and into the twenty-first century. In the Beginning During the first three days of creation, as Genesis relates the story, God 649 650 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 separates creation, giving each part a distinct identity. Only after this funda-mental work of separation and identification does God begin the cultivation of creation, filling it with a rich variety of living things, culminating in the appearance of humanity. Day 1 ~ Observation In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, covered in darkness; and the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters. God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day (Gn 1:1-5). It is intriguing that, after the heavens and the earth, light is God's first creation. Light enables us to observe and to distinguish; light enables us to see what needs to be done. God was present and active, though creation was covered in darkness. The creation of light makes observation and identifica-tion possible. Thus, light is distinguished from darkness; the former is iden-tified as day, the latter as night. Re-creating religious life involves observation. Religious must look courageously and see clearly the quality of every aspect of their lives and then distinguish between what will enhance that quality and what will not. To some degree this self-observation has been going on as religious respond-ed to the Church's call to read the signs of the times. However, with chang-ing demographics and subsequent adjustments to communal life and institutional commitments, religious need to refresh their response to this call and examine their lives yet more closely. In recent years apostolic religious life has known what it is to be "with-out form and void, covered in darkness." Some of this experience stems from the demographics and economics which have signaled the significant change--if not the death--of the religious life of twenty-five years ago. Some stems from the communal, ministerial, and structural implications of those demographics and economics. Some stems from modifications which religious themselves initiated through the process of'revising their constitu-tions and the traditional practices of their personal and communal lives. The ways in which religious live and minister and organize their congregations have changed and no doubt will continue to do so. Clearly, religious life has responsed to the Church and the cultures in which it witnesses. That religious life has undergone change is by itself no indication that nothing further need be done. Could the formlessness, emptiness, and dark- Re-creating Religious Life / 65'1 ness which religious sometimes feel about their way of life be the result of not observing areas needing yet further clarification and identification? These observations of mine focus on one area central to the lives of apostolic religious: celibate community. There is an asceticism inherent in any way of life in which two or more individuals have committed themselves to one another. Principally, that asceti-cism involves maintaining the common good over personal preferences. The acceptance of such an asceticism is essential to a healthy marriage and family life and to a healthy celibate community. Without that asceticism, the basic mutuality of the commitment begins to erode, and eventually the passion and dynamism within the relationships dissipate, then disappear altogether. If we observe the quality of our celibate community life over recent years, we have to ask whether there are times when consecrated commitment degenerates into corporate complacency. This is not to imply that religious have lost the ability to live community. Rather, it asks whether we have suf-ficiently explored other models of living a celibate communal lifestyle with-in the heritage and tradition of our congregations. Frequently in the past, community "happened" in a relatively large resi-dence associated with a congregational ministry. The daily schedules and general patterns of life within the community were much influenced by the needs of the ministry. Generally, those schedules and patterns reflected and were consistent with individuals' expectations. As ministry diversified (and individualized) during the last twenty-five years, expectations also diversi-fied. Common schedules and patterns became less possible and less realistic, given the broad spectrum of responsibilities and time commitments of local community members. Unless those expectations are observed, articulated, and modified as necessary, particularly in residences originally associated with a single ministry, those members unable to be present at certain times and events can be branded as having lost their sensitivity to or even their appreciation of the value of community. The ways in which expectations are lived are not solely internal; others observe how we live together, for better or for worse. Coworkers and other associates shape their perception and understanding of religious life by the pattern and quality of life they observe among us. Though we cannot live our lives in slavery to the multiple, diverse, and often inconsistent expecta-tions and assumptions with which others characterize us, we should not for-get that religious life is a form of witness to the Church and the culture. It bears a responsibility to be a living example of the Gospel and a working model of Jesus' mission. We need to observe our life as celibate community with a probing and 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 questioning eye. Are our communities prayerful, hospitable, and happy? Do we take individual and collective responsibility for the house in which we reside? In our communities, can we comfortably and frequently discuss the Gospel, faith, and religious life? Do we invite and welcomethose consider-ing religious life? Do we enjoy one another? Do we know one another? Do we live our life together with passion? Day 2 -- Separation God said, "Let there be a space between the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters." God made the space and separated the waters which were under the space from the waters which were above it. And it was so.And God,called the space Heaven. And there was evening and there was morning, a second day (Gn 1:6-8). With the dawn of the second day, God begins to put order into creation. Specifically, he makes some working room, so to speak, space in which to continue and complete the work of creation. If the first day emphasized observation and identification, then this second day emphasizes separation and distinction. Re-creating religious life involves separation. In recent years religious have spoken and written much about the need for continuing renewal. Chapters and other gatherings have focused extensively, and sometimes exclusively, on the renewal and refoundation necessary for religious life to be a continuing evangelical and apostolic force. Chapter documentation often remains disembodied as the demands of ministry and the routines of daily life reassert themselves after the chapter closes. Patterns of life change neither quickly nor easily. Regardless of how sublime and profound chapter proceedings may be, we will never effectively legislate renewal and refoun-dation. We must provide space for patterns of individual and communal life to be re-created. For celibate community, the observation and articulation of differing and conflicting expectations may suggest creating some new space. Can quality of life be sustained and intensified if those expectations are left to coexist without enough space for coordination? But, on the other hand, if coordina-tion becomes synonymous with the lowest common denominator, is the effort to provide such space worthwhile at all? Sometimes, no doubt, coordi-nation will bring about re-creation, but this does not seem to be the normal pattern; more often than not, re-creation by separation should be considered. Separation will involve establishing new local communities. Alternative housing could be provided for members who are committed to exploring and implementing a communal lifestyle that will meet their expectations and Re-creating Religious Life / 653 maintain a consistency and an integrity which reflect clearly their commit-ment as religious. The assumption here is that such alternative communities would be established with the highest common denominator as the standard. Prayer and relationships and the practice of the vows would be regularly reviewed to assure that standard. Separation is not schism, it is not a condemnation of other communal lifestyles within a congregation. Twenty-five years ago it was possible to find striking, and even exact, parallels throughout the local communities of a sin-gle congregation. Often those parallels were evident among many congrega-tions, also. Today, even between large local communities of the same congregation, we can find striking differences. Separation has to do with dis-tinction, not division. It seeks to express the rich diversity of ways in which a congregational heritage can be embodied among those committed to it. Major superiors have a significant role in this, a multifaceted role. First, they can take the initiative of identifying people and providing resources for new ventures even if the original initiativecame from community members themselves. The major superiors' involvement could signal the validity of the venture for those whose first reaction is critical. Second, major superiors can offer their support, encouragement, and assistance as new communities get underway. When some "red tape" needs cutting or some bureaucratic procedure needs streamlining, they are usually in a privileged position for expediting whatever needs to be done. Third, they can serve as initial observers and objective consultants for new local communities, Their role is not to mold groups into their own image and likeness, but to see that the members remain faithful to the principles and practices they have agreed upon for their life together. Finally, major superiors can be a buffer between nascent local communities and the established community. Not everyone in the latter group will agree with new ventures and the direction they repre-sent. Major superiors should avoid any defensive posture which would make the new communities look like aberrations in the eyes of the established community. They should focus their explanations about these ventures on their continuity with the congregational heritage. Separation is a means of re-creating celibate community; it is an invest-ment in the future. No doubt there are risks involved, but the prophetic nature of religious life has always placed religious in precarious situations. The risks are a challenge to acknowledge God's providential presence and activity. As religious we must reaffirm our faith in providence and move boldly into the future. Without faith, we undermine the very foundation of our religious life; without movement, we betray any assurance we profess to have about the future. 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 The future will come, but not in a vacuum. The choices we make now will determine the quality of that future. In making those choices, we need to create a fresh space, to provide a place for the future. Day 3 -- Cultivation God said, "Let the waters under the heavens be gathered into one place, and let the dry land appear." And it was so. God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered he called Seas. And God saw that it was good. God said, "Let the earth produce growing things, plants bearing seed, and fruit trees bearing fruit containing their seed, each according to its kind, upon the earth." And it was so. The earth produced vegetation, plants bearing seed according to their own kinds, and trees bearing fruit containing their seed, each according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, a third day (Gn 1:9-13). The third day brings cultivation to what has been created. With the emergence of land, "growing things" can appear; each of these growing things contains individuality and generativity. Life--and all of creation-- will continue; there will be another day. "And God saw that it was good." With this third day, God has completed the foundation for what will appear on the succeeding days of creation. And the foundation was good. Re-creating religious life involves cultivation. The future quality of celi-bate community will not appear by spontaneous generation, nor will it be manufactured according to elaborate specifications. It must be cultivated. Establishing new local communities does not signal the dawn of the seventh day; it is not the time to rest and lay aside further efforts. Quite the contrary, it is the time to move forward enthusiastically and confidently with every-thing that has been initiated thus far. This is the time for "growing things?' The root of the word cultivate is a term which can be translated "to move around" and "to dwell," depending upon the context. This dual ety-mology is quite appropriate for these present reflections. Cultivating celibate community requires some moving around. Community compromises vitality if it stops moving according to its own informed choices; that is, if it begins to operate on automatic pilot. Vitality springs from the continuing observa-tion and articulation of expectations. Patterns of personal and communal life must be mutually monitored with integrity and without fear of reprisal. Relationships must be nurtured naturally With quality time and refreshed regularly through reconciliation. Cultivation assumes that expectations and patterns and relationships will evolve. Cultivation flourishes in an environ-ment of exchange, interest, care, and concern. Cultivation moves around Re-creating Religious Life / 655 within and among community members to prevent that stagnation which taxes commitment and tempts to convenience. Cultivating celibate community requires some dwelling. Cohabitation is not celibate community; it merely means that two or more people inhabit the same residential space and need not involve any interpersonal commitment. Dwelling goes beyond living together to include entrusting our lives to one another. If we do not have mutual trust with those with whom we live, then what grounds do we have for claiming we entrust our lives to the Lord? It is a basic tenet of faith that the quality of our relationships with one another verifies or falsifies the quality of our relationship with the Lord. Truly dwelling with one another, recognizing that our life together makes a home of the house, is a certification of our love relationship with one another and with the Lord, and a witness of integrity to others. There is no flawless formula for assuring cultivation; it involves all the effort, discipline, and asceticism requisite for any healthy relationship. There are, however, some principles which can support that effort, discipline, and asceticism. First, clarity of vision: Members must have a sense of the direction in which they hope the community to move. More than an in-house conve-nience, that vision is part of the apostolic character of celibate community. Second, communication of values: A common vision is built upon shared values. Without this sharing, there is little common ground to cultivate; com-munity quickly becomes an arid land. Third, cooperation for vitality: This is a discipline and an asceticism which positions the common good as the high-est priority. The vitality of vision and values can be cultivated only coopera-tively; it cannot be assumed. Fourth, concern for vocation: This is the foundational principle. Vision and values have no vital and substantive pur-pose and meaning unless community members share a sincere concern for the integrity of their commitment to the vocation of religious life. In practice, these principles are skrategies which must characterize the re-creation of celibate community. Cultivation is a daily enterprise which will mark the presence and activity of community members with one anoth-er. Thus, cultivation never comes to a point of sufficiency, beyond which no further efforts are necessary. There will always be both peaks and plateaus in the quality of life within any community. The principles of clarity, communi-cation, cooperation, and concern are reminders that neither the peaks nor the plateaus are places of permanence. We must cultivate celibate community if it is to have a prophetic place in the future and even if it is to have a future at all. We must cultivate it since the culture will not support it. We live in a culture whose materialistic, indi- 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 vidualistic, and sensualistic preferences and practices have compromised its capability for fostering the personal commitment which lies at the heart of both celibacy and community. The decline of marriage and the family is but one testimony to that compromise. Celibate community can stand as a prophetic sign that such a commitment is humanly possible. For the future, that sign may be the small seed which is cultivated into the means of trans-formation for the entire culture. In the Days to Come "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." As the story is presented, nothing existed before God began his creative work. Everything could be made as an original, without the pressing and pressuring influence of a long-standing tradition. God could, so to speak, work from scratch. Re-creating religious life, and celibate 'community in particular, cannot assume the absence of any influence. There are values and traditions and practices by which communal religious life has endured and prospe,red over the cen-turies. The observation, separation, and cultivation which will position reli-gious life for re-creation cannot dismiss that influence as unnecessary, nor distance it as untouchable. The influence of those realities which have shaped religious life can be incorporated and assimilated into the re-creation; thus will be their creative transformation. Admittedly, some refinement may be necessary to preserve the spirit of those values, traditions, and practices. Nevertheless, such refinement is not a ruling of inadequacy, but a rendering unto new life. In the days to come we must observe closely the ways and means of our religious life together. We need to articulate clearly and forcefully the values by which we will actually live.Prophetic statements from individuals or chapters or other gatherings that remain forever disembodied phrases will never be true characterizations of religious life. Indeed, they can become pharisaical, lofty ideals without living intent. Observation, as I have used the term, has more to do with enacting motivation than with simply gathering information. In the days to come we must separate ourselves from whatever patterns of life have compromised or constricted our desire and ability to live our religious commitment with intensity and integrity. We must re-create the spirit of being called, of being set apart for the Gospel. Without that spirit, the prophetic prowess of religious life is neither affectively experienced nor effectively expressed. Within that spirit, religious life claims the power and proclamation which are the inheritance of Gospel witnesses. In the days to come we must cultivate our life together. We need to re- Re-creat.ing Religious Life / 657 create the commitment we have made to God and to one another. We have at our disposal a power for and a promise of common life that can bring hope to a world broken by betrayal, gouged by greed, and disheartened by deceit. The passion with which we live our celibacy, poverty, and obedience will counteract the standards set by that betrayal, greed, and deceit. The convic-tion with which we re-create and realize our communal life will cultivate and confirm the presence and activity of the kingdom within and around us. "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." This is an old story, but one that may be enacted once again as religious life approaches the twenty-first century. Observation, separation, and cultivation are strategies which can support the work of re-creation; and yet we should never displace the fundamental truth that this is God's work, all is grace. The alliance between those strategies and that grace will enable us to speak of religious life and of celibate community with the same bold confidence which marked Yahweh's promise for the temple. "The Lord Almighty speaks: 'Is there any-one among you who can still remember how splendid the temple used to be? How does it look to you now? It must seem like nothing at all. But now do not be discouraged, any of you. Do the work that is needed, for I am with you, so do not be afraid . In the_days to come the new temple will be more splendid than the old one, and there I will give you prosperity and peace' " (Hg 2:3-4, 9). To the Bird of My Prayer Songster, your hymn of praise Never ceases in a melody all your own; Chanting a song--pleading, thanking-- With the sheer joy of having voice to sing. From highest pole to roof, you find your perch, No earth-bound bush can stifle flight to God. Anna Louise Staub, S.S.J. 217 W. Commercial St. East Rochester, NY 14445 Prophetic Witness in Contemporary Religious Life Jean Steffes, CSA: Sister Jean Steffes has been general superior for the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Agnes. Her address is: 427 Gillett Street; Fond du Lac, Wisconsin 54935-4598. The notion of being prophetic in today's society can conjure up many images in us, depending upon our perspective. For some of us being prophetic might seem a quality to be admired in Dorothy Day, Archbishop Romero, the martyred Jesuits of El Salvador, and the Agnesians Maureen and Teresa of Nicaragua, but one to which we could never aspire. It wo~ld mean speaking, acting, or giving witness in larger-than-life situations that may never be the platform for most of us. Another perspective might give rise to images of angry demonstrations directed at society and culture or at our Church. The call for greater inclusion of women in roles in Church and society, for the right to life of the unborn, the unwanted, and the elderly, and for the preservation of our environment can result in tactics that seem or are angry. For those who shrink from such approaches, even the very valid and necessary content can be lost. A third image of the prophet (which we may enjoy) is of one who foretells the future. In our society there are those who use past patterns to predict our economy's collapse or other dire conse-quences. For those of us who live a Gospel faith, such prophets do not give the hope so necessary to engage in present realities and so make the world a better place here and now. The images I have shared are overdrawn stereotypes, but they show the difficulty in speaking on the topic of prophetic wit]aess. In this reflection I will explore three broad areas: (1) What does it mean to be prophetic? (2) prophetic witness and the current experience of religious life: (3) an agenda for the future. 658 Prophetic Witness / 659 What Does It Mean to be Prophetic? Walter Brueggemann says in The Prophetic Imagination, "The time may be ripe in the church for a serious consideration of prophecy as a crucial ele-ment in ministry."~ Prophets understood how change is effected. They knew the power of language, how to "evoke newness, 'fresh from the word.' ,,2 Let us develop at some length Brueggemann's ideas of prophecy. He states, "The task of prophetic ministry is to nurture, nourish, and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the domi-nant culture around us . ,,3 I believe his approach can help us understand prophetic witness as it applies to the goals and meaning of religious life. Beginning with the story of Moses, we can learn what it means to form an alternative community. The story of the Exodus shows us how Moses and the Israelite people were brought out from their domination by an imperial religion and the politics of oppression and exploitation. The religion and pol-itics of Pharaoh worked hand in hand to keep him in power and control. Through the interaction of Moses and Aaron with Pharaoh and his regime, the Israelites began to see the difference between the freedom of God and the lack of freedom of the Egyptian gods. Belief in the Egyptian gods served to maintain a social order that allowed for oppression and exploitation. The God revealed to the Israelites is tied to no social order. God is a God of free-dom who calls for an alternative community built on the politics of justice and compassion. The alternative consciousness that Moses fostered in the Israelites was both critical and energizing. His critique, validated when the Egyptians were struck by plagues which their gods were powerless to counter, showed up false claims to power and authority which could not keep promises in the face of the free God. Prophetic criticism has an element of grieving in it as the prophet mourns the oppressions encountered. The Israelites were afflict-ed, oppressed, and ground down by the dominant Egyptian culture, and so they risked the freedom of the free God against the regime. The energizing happened not through what the Israelites already possessed but through what was promised. God went before them in pillars of fire and cloud and trans-figured this fear into energy. The people were energized to follow the free God to establish an alternative community built on justice and compassion. Though the Israelites left Egypt to live more freely, they, too, eventually developed a dominant culture. It was characterized by the reign of Solomon, whose whole achievement appears to have had the self-serving purpose of securing the place of the king and king's dynasty. Solomon did not welcome the ideas of a free God and an alternative community any more than did Pharaoh, for they threatened the established order. There were three bases 660 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 for Solomon's rule that generally mark any dominant culture. First, there was incredible well-being and affluence, though it was not equitably shared. Some went without enough so that others might have too much. Second, an oppressive social policy sustained the standard of living. There was a system of forced labor in which laborers met the needs of the state although unable to meet their own needs. The politics of justice and compassion disappeared, and the order of the state became the overriding agenda. Third, there was the establishment of a controlled and static religion. God and God's temple became part of the royal landscape. How could God, seen as living in a house provided by the king, say anything critical or abrasive? Solomon was countering the counterculture of Moses: the economics of equality was countered with the economics of affluence, the politics of justice with the politics of oppression, and the religion of God's freedom with the religion of God's accessibility. The dominant culture of Solomon managed to brush aside Moses' vision. The gift of freedom was taken over by the yearning for order, and the human agenda of justice was used for security. Against reali-ties like these, people are called to utter prophetic words. Moses both criticized and energized. Like him, Jeremiah is shown as proclaiming the critique while Second Isaiah offers the energy for the new vision. The prophets offer symbols that contradict a situation of hopelessness and give public expression to long-unspoken fears and hopes. They show us that the dominant culture leads people to despair of new life. They present an alternative consciousness, grounded in the unwavering faithfulness of God, that can energize the community to new forms of faithfulness and vital-ity. Jesus, too, is shown as a prophet who criticized the dominant culture of his day. "Jesus is remembered and presented by the early Church as the faithful embodiment of an alternative consciousness.''4 Jesus' ministry and death oppose the politics of oppression with the politics of justice and com-passion. The counterpart to the crucifixion is the birth of a new reality that finds full expression in the resurrection. What does this very challenging reflection on prophets and prophetic consciousness have to say to us in religious life? What is apostolic religious life's prophetic role in church and society today? It is important to reflect on this, recognizing that we have generous portions of both dominant culture and alternative consciousness within us. We recognize our conflicted nature, yet we aspire to a prophetic role in church and society. We must ask, then, whether apostolic women religious have been co-opted by our dominant consumer culture or whether we manifest an alterna-tive consciousness based on the freedom of a free God. Do we show a belief in community and interdependence as inherent in our way of life, or are we Prophetic Witness / 66'1 fragmented and self-centered? Are we motivated by a desire for justice and compassion, or do we prefer stability even at the price of the exploitation and oppression of "invisible" others? The questions are hard but necessary as we examine the religious way of life for evidence of prophetic witness. Prophetic Witness and the Current Experience of Religious Life Our challenge as women religious is to position ourselves to recognize the revelation of the future. One current writer, Mary Jo Leddy, N.D.S., speaks of the need to develop a postliberal model of religious life. Her thesis is that the basis for our contemporary religious life in North America is a declining culture that depends on the liberal thought fed by industrial capi-talism. While liberalism has made many contributions to modern society, it cannot deal with the reality of limits. If there can be no limits, ultimately there can be no meaning or values. Liberals tend to see themselves as contemporary or progressive and in conflict with the conservative or traditionalist ideas of Church and religious life. In Leddy's view, the more serious obstacle to the transformation and renewal of religious life results from the tension between the liberal and the prophetic approaches. The prophetic leads us to a more radical response in spirituality, mission, ministry, and community. The prophetic is risky, for it calls us to response to an unknown future rather than reaction to a no-longer-valid past. Leddy says, "We who live in a disintegrating empire today are summoned at prophetic moments to criticize the patterns of decline within our culture and within ourselves, to contemplate the holiness of God in the midst of these dark times, and to evoke the creative desire in one another for a meaningful alternative for the future.''5 These words are very similar to those Brueggemann uses to describe the prophetic imagination. The prophetic intersects with our apostolic religious life. Contemporary writers call religious to the same challenge the prophets faced in biblical times. Religious congregatiohs represent an alternative to the values of the dominant culture but do not stand apart from the people. Rather, apostolic religious recognize clearly the need for reflection, discernment, and a ground-ing in the holy as they criticize, yet energize, themselves and their peers to bring the values of the Gospel into contemporary society and culture. We have reflected on what it means to be a prophet. We have also recog-nized the challenge it presents to apostolic religious. Let us now look at cur-rent beliefs and responses regarding apostolic religious life in light of prophetic witness. I will consider mission direction, the meaning of member-ship, and some current realities. These areas provide us with the material to critique and energize our own prophetic potential. 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 Mission Direction Although expressed differently in each congregation, mission direction today involves in some way a commitment to transformation of the world, the Church, and ourselves through promoting systemic change for the quali-ty of life; justice for the economically poor; furtherance of the role of women in church and society; and mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration in all relationships. Such mission direction clearly reminds us of our partici-pation in the mission of Jesus. When we call ourselves to systemic change for the quality of life, what do we mean? We are asking for two things, systemic change and quality of life. When we say the system is not working well, how do we want to change it so it will work better? For whom do we want it to work better? If we take a global view, we see that entirely too much of the world's popula-tion is forced to live at a level that does not meet its basic needs of food, shelter, health care, and education while a minority has more than its share. We see that, in order to feed the wants and needs of a market economy, rain forests are irrevocably destroyed, topsoil is depleted, deserts are expanded mercilessly, and the world's fresh-water supply is tainted and diminished. On local and national levels we 'must ask ourselves how the needs of the poor are being met. After all, Jesus was clear in showing us that whatever we do to the least of his people we are doing to him. The poor are receiving poorer education, less nourishing food, substandard or no housing, and inad-equate health care in this country so rich in resources and technology. We must use our ingenuity, gifts, and talents to change a system that has canonized greed and competition in order to satisfy wants. How can we in our own daily living point the way to change that would benefit those with least access to the system without denying the legitimate gains and goods of our society and culture? Such responses as simplifying our lifestyle by avoiding use of Styrofoam, recycling our disposables, and making thought-ful choices regarding food and other consumer goods can raise our con-sciousness and lead us to getting others involved and to networking with those already involved. Indeed, most changes begin as ordinary people change their thinking and the patterns that go with their thinking. We must know our values so that they, rather than the manipulative marketing of an over- consumptive dominant culture, will shape our choices and responses. We claim that we want justice for the economically poor. This value links with the goal of systemic change for the quality of life. Jesus' life and ministry showed us his love of preference for the poor. This is not to say that Jesus does not love all, but that his ministry was not directed in the main to those who were the power brokers of his day. These, of course, he invited to Prophetic Witness / 663 join him in loving God and neighbor, but the cost was generosity, sharing their possessions. Jesus was good news for the poor. Are we who are called to continue Jesus' mission also good news for the poor? Whether in direct service So the poor or in ministry with middle- and upper-middle-class peo-ple, are we focused on a more just distribution of and access to necessary goods and resources? Do we in our teaching and in our healing, pastoral, and social works always have in mind those who are less fortunate than we are? Are we willing ~o call others to this consciousness even when we see and know that the poor are not to be idealized? They, like us, have faults and failings and may not reflect Christ as we might want them to. A reverence for the poor calls us to a view of Christ very different from that of popular piety. While comforting, it is challenging; while open and inviting, it is demanding; and while satisfying, it never ceases to call out for more--more love, more generosity, more hospitality. Not all of us are called to direct ser-vice with the poor, but all of us are called to seek justice for the poor. In this quest we continually recognize that we, too, are among the needy and are enriched by those we serve. Another commitment common to religious is to the furtherance of the role of women in church and society. Worldwide, the conditions of women vary from those in countries where women have legal equality to those where brides are still considered property. Women the world over have the primary responsibility to feed and care for the children even though means and resources are not equitably at their disposal. In the United States a vio-lent crime is committed against a woman every three minutes, and a woman is raped every six minutes. Households headed by women are increasing while the rate of their income is dropping. Children are our most precious resource, but those who care for them are denied the necessary means. Our Church struggles with the role women are to play in its pastoral, liturgical, and philosophical reflections.In the U.S. the most recent draft document on women's role in the Church and society calls for equality for women in theory but holds back in p.ractice. As John XXIII said in Pacem in Terris in 1963, "Since women are becoming ever more conscious of their human dignity, they will not tolerate being treated as inanimate objects or mere instruments, but claim, both in domestic and in public life, the rights and duties that befit a human person.''6 The women's issue is more than an issue, it is a perspective that demands attention and response. Once unleashed, the forces of confusion and dissension drive towards resolution. In our lives we will use inclusive language, advocate for women, and net-work to help make society a friendlier place for women to develop and share their gifts and talents. Despite such a commitment on the part of congrega- 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 tions, there is dissension among women religious in language usage and other matters. Our heads and hearts find themselves in conflict here, leading to results that could be less than satisfying. Can we avoid being our own worst enemy in the search for inclusivity? Let us not deny the richness of our past, the demands of the present, or the call of the future as we work for justice and right for women in contemporary society and church. Another area of commitment of apostolic religious today has to do with mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration in all our relationships. The values implied here are very positive, and yet to achieve them one must give in order to receive. The mystery of sacrifice is contained in these words in a way that is not apparent at first glance. For mutuality to occur, I must not only believe in myself, I must also learn to believe and trust in the other. With whom do we allow ourselves to be mutual? Do we let power, position, language, style of dress, or education prevent us from speaking our truth or hearing that of others? In terms of inclusivity, do we go to the extremes either of having no boundaries or expectations or of expecting everyone to fulfill every role or function in an organization? Inclusivity involves includ-ing others in the concerns affecting their own lives. Not all will do every-thing, but there must be input from those affected. In terms of discernment, though all are included, not all perspectives can be responded to or chosen. We often try to make inclusivity mean pleasing everyone all of the time even though this may be impossible. Finally, let us look at c.ollaboration. If we pull the word apart, we can see the meaning as co-labor or working with. At one time we may have considered ourselves collaborative if we hired lay teachers and nurses and more so if we hired lay administrators. Collaboration at its most radical, however, calls us not just to bring others into our projects and have them do things our way, but to work with others and to respond to the signs and needs of the times together. Unhe.althy com-petition or too rigid control in ministry or community strikes at the heart of the love which binds us together so that the 'risen Christ may be discovered among us and in our world. The Meaning of Membership The consideration of mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration leads us into the meaning of membership. Community life is a topic, issue, and reali-ty that continues to generate much attention. As apostolic religious we have such different experiences, expectations, and definitions regarding commu-nity life and the meaning of local community. Sometimes when the phrase "local community" is used, the assumptions and expectations already in place cause us to "shut down," to become unable to continue a dialogu~ Prophetic Witness because we are really unable to h~ar one another. (I personally have felt anger, despair, defensiveness, longing, fear--and also hope--around this topic.) What has led religious women to this state and what can we do to move beyond shutdown and breakdown to a breakthrough? It is clear that, in this matter, apostolic women religious are striving, striving to understand meaningful bonding and to express it through authentic participation in community. Someone recently said that we may have so emphasized mission and ministry in the years of renewal following Vatican II that c6mmunity has become the shadow side of our way of life. If that is the case, the difficulties surrounding our efforts to deal with community life are deep and profound. We must face and deal with this central area of our way of life so that we are nok torn apart by unclear expectations and assumptions. I offer three perspectives for consideration in the area of community: human-growth issues, the importance of faith community and faith sharing, and l~ousin~ in community. We sometimes get bogged down by human-growth issues in our lives with one another on the local or on the broader community level even though our lived experience points to the need for human growth and development among ourselveg. Each of us knows how difficult it is to change herself and how truly futile it is to expect to change another. Each of us must deal with herself and her own issues in as healthy a fashion as 16ossible. Only when my behaviors and patterng are healthy may I be able to imiarove the dynamics between myself and those with whom I interact on a r~gular basis. The challenge here is to deal with my own behav-iors, realizing that I have no real or lasting power over the behaviors another may choose. My role is to try not to feed into unhealthy behaviors that may be pre.sent around me. Although unatteiaded human-growth issues can wreak havoc on healthy relating within community, still apostolic religious must recognize that we will never overcome all of these problems either individually or corpbrately. Gra~e biailds on nature; it will not replace or deny our humanness. We must realize how eadh sister's desire and motivation influence her choices regard-ing her behavior and interaction. We cannot choose for each other, only for ourselves. Each ~'eligious needs to be challenged to a self-knowledge and self-awareness leading to growth. Practices such as spiritual direction, the annual retreat, and the daily consciousness examen can keep us grounded in reality yet open to ongoing conversion. We must deal with human-growth-and-development issues, but not remain there. We must be committed to the making of or participating in faith community as a means of nurturing shared life, shared love, and shared vision. We must find ways to relate regularly and meaningfully with our sis- 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 ters in community in order to reflect on, renew, and recommit ourselves to the mission, charism, and spirit of our congregation in our daily lives. Depending upon our miriistry and the proximity of other congregational members, how we do this will differ; that we must do it if membership is to mean more than an annual touchdown or the reading of congregational mate-rials is the reality we face. Some Current Realities I. recogniz9 that each congregational member will have other communi-ties thai will lay claim to her time, energy, and affection. That is good and healthy. My point is that we must have quality time for our own congrega-tion as well, as part of the ordering rhythm of our lives. Sometimes one's commitment to ministry or to parish can become so all-encompassing that ther~ is. little or no time or energy left for her to express her membership in her religious congregation. For me, the making of faith community involves reverence for one another, presence to one another for celebration as well ag dialogue and reflection, honesty so that we can affirm one another or call each other to growth, and a commitment to the goals and developing agenda of our congregation. This topic of makirig and participating in faith community leads to another important topic: the difference between housing and local communi-ty: We often equaie the two and this ~quation may not reflect that community life is broader than housing. The recent lived reality of women religious shows that faith community on the "local" level is not necessarily synony-mous with where a sister lives. In some locales th~ sisters have committed themselves to hei,ng a faith community without walls; regular meetings, cele-brations, and gatherings among them challenge and deepen their member-ship in the cbngi'egation, in other locales the sisters in a particular house function well as a faith community. We must recognize such differing com-munity realities and encourage them on the local level as well as on the con-gregational level. A commitment to community in our current society of intenge individualism and consumer gratification keeps us involved in a prophetic role. An Agenda for the Future The prophetic nature of this life to which we are called leads us to cob-sider an agenda for~the future. Any living organization must be open to change or it will die. In a sense change is an ordered type of death, not death as final but rather death leading to new life. One of the greatest strengths of apostolic women religious is the serise that the agenda or common goals Prophetic Witness / 667 belong to all of us. This strength we will build on as we look at change and new life for us religious. Central to understanding ourselves as women religious is understanding our spirituality. I believe that the biggest challenge for each of us with regard to spirituality is to lead more integrated lives. Integration does not just hap-pen in a person's life. It must be worked at daily through a continuous blend of action and reflection leading to further action. Somehow the aspects of one's life must be part of a whole rather than segments that do not overlap. In an integrated life my religious commitment is not separate from who I am when I am at leisure. My response in mission and ministry is not limited to my paid professional work but may overlap into volunteer involvements in food pantries, visiting the sick or elderly, letter writing, and other activities. Community life is not an end in itself in an apostolic religious institute, nor is it merely a refuge that ought to be there when I want and need it. Community is a place or space where I share faith and vision, humanness, and the quest for the divine. My ministry is not all-consuming; I do allow myself necessary time for recreation and reflection. And my prayer life is more than specified exercises or spiritual reading. All these somehow fit together and reflect my spirituality, my integration of life. An integrated life has powerful witness value in a society that wants everything and does not want to be reminded of the need for balance. Integration is not synonymous with transformation, but it can surely open us to being transforming elements in the institutions and structures of society and culture. In our desire to be prophetic witnesses, we commit our-selves to transformation of the Church, the world, and ourselves~ I recently read that one way of understanding transformation is to look at the life cycle of the butterfly. First there is a caterpillar; next there is the chrysalis stage, in which the organic matter is quite shapeless and formless; finally, there is the butterfly. Transformation is what happens in the chrysalis stage. The process is not very appealing; it suggests a profound letting go as well as an openness to a different future. While transformation has global ramifications, it will not begin at the global level but rather at the local level, where we can encourage one anoth-er to let go of attitudes or practices that may have been more helpful to a known and comfortable past than to the needs of the present or the concerns of the future. The desire for transformation of the world, the Church and our-selves flows directly from our relationship to God, self, others, and creation. It is expressed in a commitment to justice, peace, and the integrity of cre-ation. Transformation is not something anyone can directly make happen by willing it. No one person caused the recent freedom movement in Eastern 668 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 Europe, nor can one individual move our economy from a military focus to a domestic and global focus responding to human and planetary needs in a humane fashion. Likewise, no ond person's recycling of materials will reverse our problem with excessive waste. Yet all of these and many other alternative responses can indeed lead to transformation. When such respons-es begin, networking or replicating starts to happen and systems begin to change. At the May 1990 meeting of the council of the International Union of Superiors General (UISG) in Rome, the following global challenges to evan-gelization were identified: the widening gap between the rich and poor; indi-vidualism characterized by greed, violence, terrorism, abandonment, indifference, and irresponsibility; loss of human dignity through political oppression, social discrimination, and economic injustice; the breakdown of family life; the destruction of the environment; inability to trust the human community, coupled with a preoccupation with survival. These challenges help us to formulate an agenda for transformation that is larger than ourselves, and they clearly link with the transformative ele-ments for religious life in the future developed by the major superiors of U.S. women's and men's communities (LCWR/CMSM) in August 1989: prophetic witness; contemplative attitude toward life; poor and marginalized persons as the focus for ministry; spirituality of wholeness and global inter-connectedness; charism and mission as sources of identity; change of the locus of power; living with less; broad-based inclusive communities; under-standing ourselves as Church; and developing interdependence among peo-ple of diverse cultures. These challenges and transformative elements reflect in broad strokes the goals and concerns ofapostolic religious. Though the future depends in part upon us and our efforts, it depends even more on the grace of God our Creator, the inspiration of the Spirit, and our cooperation with each other as members of the body of Christ, joined in a common humanity and gifted with a common creation. Our communion with and in Christ calls all humanity "to reclaim relationships with family, clan, and tribe, to choose the common good, to seek solidarity with one another and with the earth.''7 For transformation to occur, we must believe and act in such a way that we give the message that life has meaning and that, assisted by God's grace, our responses make a difference. The prophetic imagination described by Brueggemann remains viable as we respond in our own times with an alter-native consciousness, as we critique our dominant culture and yet energize one another for a more just and compassionate future. Our faith gives us the vision and the mission, our hope gives us spirit and energy, and our love Prophetic Witness / 669 grounds us in the mysterious blend of transcendence and immanence that is life. I close this reflection on prophetic witness and apostolic religious life with Isaiah's words: "Remember not the events of the past, the things of long ago consider not; see, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (Is 43:18-19). NOTES I Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 9. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid, p. 13. 4 Ibid, p. 88. 5 Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990), p. 164. 6 John XXIII, Pacem In Terris, in Seven Great Encyclicals (Glen Rock, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1963), p. 297. 7 Helen Maher Garvey, B.V.M., excerpt from notes on the Meeting of the General Council, UISG, Rome, Italy, May 7-11, 1990, p. 2. Storms Tornado watch, the weatherman said, to last until ten o'clock. Four hours to wait for what may be or not. Storms of spirit come suddenly; swirl through the heart's towns and wash its skies to morning clean-- with no hours to wait for what so swiftly is. Sister Elizabeth deSales Dee, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 7300 Torresdale Avenue Philadelphia, Pa. 19136 Mission or Consecrated Religious Person: Which Comes First in Apostolic Institutes? Marie Therese Levey, R.S.~. Sister Marie Therese has taught school in country areas of Australia. Later she spe-cialized in teaching instrumental music: piano and violin. More recently she has done research in liturgical music and earned a Ph.D. Her address is St. Joseph's Convent; P.O. Box 472; North Sydney, N.S.W. 2059; Australia. In May/June 1988 this joumal published Sister Georgine Scarpino's article "The Unemployed Sister: Challenge and Opportunity." It defines the unem-ployed sister as a woman religious physically and emotionally capable of active ministry who, despite seeking work, currently has no formal position. It gives two causes for this modem phenomenon: the location of the work and the way ministry decisions are made. In summary, Sister Georgine points out the need for congregations of women religious to develop programs within religious institutes to address both employment and unemployment. Surprisingly, no published response has followed her article until now. Since women religious have sacrificed potential material wealth, marriage, and motherhood in order to serve the Church in institutes devoted to apos-tolic works, it seems unjtist that the situations described occur. However, occur they do, and the first step toward rectifying the problems is to admit them. One then asks why they exist and seeks an appropriate cure. Sister Georgine presents causes of these problems in the United States. Although here in Australia there are general parallels to what she describes, yet the causes and thus the cures seem somewhat different here. The present writer has, in religious life, personally experienced "job search" and the special type of demoralization which occurs in close-knit communities when one is the "odd man out." I thus feel equipped to write on this subject. Regardless of the differences between countries in reasons for the phe-nomenon of the unemployed sister, I believe that the two elements most 670 Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 671 needed in addressing the problem of appropriate placement in apostolic works of religious personnel in institutes of consecrated life are: (l) a correct balance in religious leaders between their attitudes towards responsibility for the institute's authentic mission and their attitudes towards the rights of the individual members; (2) adequate use of written media, particularly those which are internal to the religious institutes and which include forums for peer review and the opportunity for subjects to respectfully challenge those directives or oversights of superiors which seem to threaten the authentic mission of the institute or the rights of its members. Mission and Person The religious state belongs to the life and holiness of the Church (canon 574), and the primary mission of the Church is the care of souls. Ecclesiastical law insists that apostolic action for institutes of consecrated life should confirm and foster union with God (c. 675, §2). The Church has Msb a social mission, namely, to support and protect people's material well-being and to inspire and promote true civilization through Christian philoso-phy. 1 In the social category of mission can be placed the apostolic pati'imony of many institutes, and the Church insists that such patrimony, or intentions of the founder, should be.preserved by the institute (c. 578). Thus, leaders of institutes of consecrated life f6unded for apostolic works, in order to justify their ongoing existence and their acceptance of candidates, need to ensure that both the corporate entity and the individual members have a correct con-cept of this patrimony as well as machinery to implement it. Bearing in mind that the Church places the person at the center of the social order, religious leaders have a r~sponsibility to see that members of the institute are placed in apostolic works which are appropriate to the tal-ents and needs of each (see Perfectae Caritatis 18). The pastoral commit-ment of a leader in an apostolic institute does not remove--but, rather, ¯ increases--her obligation towards seeing to appropriate placement of per-sonnel. Although religious leaders nowadays delegate administrators for works for which members of their institute are the trustees, a large part of the responsibility of preventing serious damage to the person through long-term lack of appropriate apostolic work must lie, by the nature of their role, with the religious leaders. Moreover, the responsibilities leaders have to individtial persons within the institute vary according to how long and in what manner they have contributed to the institute (see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1989, p. 460). Since it is often claimed that consecrated religious are in short supply, the application of the above principles might seem straightforward. In reality 672 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 there are circumstances in the modem world in general, and here in Australia in particular, which cause it to be very difficult for congregational leaders. As in the United States, the location of the work in Australia affects the opportunity to do it, and the way ministry decisions are made in America has parallels h~re. Some details may clarify the differences between practices in the two countries. Conditions in Australia Prior to Vatican II, the missioning procedures in Australian apostolic religious congregations were relatively simple. Obedience, or the will of God, was equa~ed with doing what a superior told one to do and living where the superior told one to live. In larger Australian congregations, (over 1,000 members) often more than half were primary school teachers, and a large proportion of the remainder were either secondary teachers or nurses. Changes of residence for those "in the ranks" usually involved interchange between personnel engaged in similar works. This principle of interchange was fundamental to the smooth application of the third vow. When a difficult posting was required--for example, to isolated rural areas--younger reli-gious under perpetual vows were usually sent. Postings to apostolic works almost invariably came directly from a major superior, whether or not that superior's apostoli~c background was in the relevant work. Recruitment of staff for a school or a hospital by an administrator, or board, was foreign to most Australian apostolic religious congregations of women prior to about 1960, whether the mission was in the city or in the country. In the early 1960s a radical change occurred in the overall secondary education system in the most populous state of Australia, New South Wales. That change to what was called the Wyndham System, emphasizing science and the arts, was much more revolutionary in Catholic education for girls than it was either in state education or in Catholic education for boys. In the typical local Catholic school run by consecrated religioi~s women in Australia before that time, the girls remained in the same school, almost entirely staffed by r(ligious, from kindergarten through secondary school years. In state education and in Catholic education for boys, secondary schools were already separated at least from lower primary schools. Thus, state-school teachers and men religious in secondary education had been required to have university degrees before some larger institutes of w~men religious recognized such a need. When the more farsighted Catholic educa-tors pointed out that it would now be a problem to provide adequate sec-ondary education for the girls of less well-off families in local pa~:ish schools, some congregations saw in their higher grades a source of more Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 673 thoroughly trained religious personnel. That vain hope made difficulties in long-term planning for the transition from religious to lay staff. A further dramatic change in Australian education, which was to affect all ministries, occurred in the early 1970s. After a break of twenty years, the Australian Labor Party, headed by Prime Minister Gough Whitlam, was elected to govern the country. One of its earliest reforms was to make uni-versity education free. Although some criticized the extraordinary cost this was to the nation, the move brought the opportunity for tertiary education to the masses. Before that time, university education had been for the fortunate and the chosen. Now the initiative for tertiary education was up to the indi-vidual. The suc.c~'ss achieved by some "late starters," many in their forties and fifties, revealed how much talent had previously been unused. From about 1975, attitudes within religious congregations changed for both superi-ors and subjects. Superiors began to listen more attentively to those who did well in their tertiary studies, and subjects found their personal confidence and self-esteem strengthened by their academic achievement. With the advances made in the study of theology and the social sciences, it is now rarel~ pretended that apostolic religious life is simple, or that doing the will of God is always as clear-cut as that decided by another human being alone, whether or not that person h.appens to be a religious superior. Because of the broader scope of ministries open to women religious, modem specialization, and improved administrative techniques, the principle of interchange among personnel--which for many years had been integral to the practice of the third vow--is now becoming more and more difficult. In addition, although the median age of religious congregations is rising faster than that of the general population, many religious feel they have the right, and indeed the duty, to request proximity to aging parents. Religious congre-gations in serious decline have virtually no young sisters under perpetual vows who might be sent to isolated schools in rural areas. Since the majority of Australian sisters have reached the "winding down" stage of their lives, many now look to the cities from whence they originally came. In addition to these developments within the Church, the governments of Australia and New Zealand have acknowledged, in the form of funding, the benefits to the country as a whole of certain works of the private sector, including Catholic, and have thus made it necessary to rethink the ecclesias-tical structures for some ministries in which religious are involved. The equitable processing of government funding necessitated merging many local works, including parish schools within dioceses, into larger systems, most of whose personnel are now lay. These mergings required the develop-ment of policies acceptable to the relevant bishops, major religious superi- 674 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 ors, and state and union representatives for the management of the works, particularly those of healthcare and education. Making the policies work in practice required the establishment of sophisticated structures, which in turn required religious or lay personnel with the proper management skills. As a result, the power of the leaders of religious institutes with regard to the placement of personnel in traditional works in Australia and New Zealand has been lessened. Unlike lay staff, religious in Australia are not permitted employment status; this is not the case in New Zealand.2 Because of all of these circumstances, religious superiors have had to rethink how to preserve their true patrimony oi" authentic mission and what human cost would be involved. Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? The whole issue of the employment, or active involvement, of religious personnel leads to the question: Which is of greater importance to an insti-tute claiming to be dedicated to apostolic works, the works for which it was founded or the persons who will serve in those works? For leaders of insti-tutes whose acceptance of candidates demands that they offer them appropri-ate apostolic work, the answer is neither obvious nor simple. However, the Church has offered some very sound advice in the general area of human work. Of the documents which have come from the Vatican since the council, few could be more relevant to our times than the encyclical letter Laborem Exercens (LE) of the present pope. Pope John Paul II presents human work as "one of the characteristics that distinguish man from the rest of the crea-tures." It is "from work [that man's life] derives its specific dignity" (LE Introduction). Pope John Paul describes the "conflict between labor and cap-ital in the present phase of history" (LE 1 l f f). The Church, he points out, has always taught "the principle of labor over capital." Both are causes of pro-duction, but while capital is the mere "instrumental cause," labor is the "pri-mary efficient cause" (LE 12). In the labor-over-capital issue, Pope John Paul equates labor with per-sons and capital with the material returns from their labor. Consecrated reli-gious, even those who have employment, individually receive no capital }'or their labor. They have sacrificed this right for a stable form of living by which they can follow Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit (c. 573). In Australia and New Zealand, more than half of the person-nel in apostolic institutes made their commitment in the years when religious superiors had supreme control over placement into works, and they are now beyond the stage at which they might have arranged for alternative security Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 675 in old age upon seeing that the original system in which they sacrificed pos-sible wealth, marriage, and motherhood was beginning to break down. So the competent authorities obviously have a serious question of obligation towards them now. Many of the religious have perhaps forty years of life which they could still offer in apostolic works within the Church. Pope John Paul also writes concerning the roles of the "direct and indi-rect employer" (LE 17). By the "indirect employer" he refers to many differ-ent elements in society which make up the human environment of the worker. He says: "The role of the agents included under the title of indirect employer is to act against unemployment, which in all cases is an evil, and which, when it reaches a certain level, can become a real social disaster" (LE 18). These are strong words from the pen of the vicar of Christ. The principal agent in the concept of indirect employer for religious personnel would be the wider Church in that country. Should not, then, sections of the local Church accept part of the responsibility to address any problems of unem-ployment for religious? As well, the question should be raised within reli-gious institutes: Is it justifiable for religious superiors to accept candidates to poverty and obedience within a particular institute when those superiors do not have the power to place them in suitable work soon after profession? Perhaps declining numbers in a congregation increase the temptation for superiors to do so, and perhaps they excuse their actions with the reminder that all should "trust in God." I believe that succumbing to such a temptation would constitute power abuse of a particularly destructive kind. The abuse would surely be more damaging if others within the institute were already searching for similar employment, and were exposed to the same market forces. Power and Recruitment for Apostolic Works The power of recruitment brings us to the heart of the present discus-sion, namely, the opportunity for or deprivation of suitable apostolic work for religious personnel. It is neither possible nor desirable to completely sep-arate apostolic persons from the society in which they live. Professed mem-bers of Australian religious institutes are exposed to the forces which are part of the sophisticated living of the decade leading up to the twenty-first century. In this society ~nd age, control of recruitment for works represents power. For religious personnel, recruitment can be translated into mission-ing. Procedures for the missioning of religious should be such that they lead to the spiritual strengthening of the members and the corporate growth of the institute. The immediate practical problem to be faced by governing bodies of religious institutes is to develop policies for missioning procedures that 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 are within their power to implement, that support evangelization, that are just and equitable and adapted to the personhood of each sister, and that accord with both canon and civil law. Nowadays apostolic work for religious may be broadly placed into four categories: (1) viable institutions of which the con-gregation is the trustee, (2) charitable works of the congregation or of other ecclesiastical bodies, (3) viable institutions of other ecclesiastical bodies which pay stipends or salaries for the work of the sister, and (4) viable and nonviable works found in profane structures at the initiative of the religious. (1) Viable institutions owned by a religious institute are, in a distinctive manner, part of its patrimony. They are, as well, material assets of the insti-tute, which its leaders should, in. poverty, care for "with the diligence of a good householder" (canon 1284). Viable works of religious congregations are businesses, and for businesses to survive and attract personnel today, they must be competitive. Vatican II (Gaudium et Spes 64) teaches that eco-nomic development through technical progress "must be fostered, along with a spirit of initiative, an eagerness to create and expand enterprises," and that the purpose of productivity "must be th.e service of. the whole human per-son, viewed in terms of his or her material needs and the demands of his or her intellectual, moral, spiritual, and religious life." Pope John Paul points out that "capital cannot be separated fr6m labor" (LE 13) though, of course, in the case of religious persons, the capital is, through poverty, directed elsewhere than themselves. Religious persons, knowing that they are materially contributing towards the whole, find in the capital "confirma-tion and support" (LE 13) for the work done. Sound economics and evangel-ical poverty should go hand in hand. In order to maintain the correct balance between responsibility to the institute's mission and respect for the rights of the individual members of the institute, congregational leaders (trustees of the works) must regard the work and those involved in it as separate entities: the work itself is important regardless of who does it. Individual members must have the same percep-tion so that they may practice the spirit of poverty, or detachment. There should, accordingly, be protective structures for the ministry, including sometimes the combining of similar works under one administration so that they will continue even in cases of illness or of anyone's taking longservice leave. It is particularly important that this principle of continuation be respected when works require only one person in the local area, for example, instrumental music practices.3 Setting up protective structures for ministries in order to maintain the institute's patrimony will include policies for recruitment of staff. In those works in which a number of religious and lay people, are engaged, religious superiors have the direct power to influence Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 677 administrators in the recruitment of personnel. It stands to reason, then, that---other things, like professional qualifications, being equal--in recruit-ment for works of which the religious institute is the trustee, preference should be given to its own members. (2) The category of charitable works might include refuges for the needy which are supported by the congregation and by external donations. Without viable works there can be no charitable works. The Church's teaching on a "preferential option for the poor," by which the poor should have a preferen-tial claim on the Church's resources, cannot be initially applied without the resources. Once competent authorities decide that a charitable work is authentic to the charism of the institute, then the congregation should set up, as it should for its viable institutions, protective structures to preserve the work, whether or not there are religious personnel to staff it. Indeed, true missionaries strive to make themselves ultimately dispensable--teaching the disadvantaged how to be self-reliant and how to recover the dignity which is their right (see LE 9). Protective structures would include finance arrange-ments which can be monitored, and the work should be the source of support for the individual religious workers; that is, their salaries or stipends should be fed back into the general system. Again, for a religious institute's own charitable works, other things being equal, one would expect that members of the institute who are under civil retirement age should be considered first when positions are vacant. In Australia, women over sixty years of age (men over sixty-five) who have limited assets (a category which includes religious) are eligible to apply for the Social Security payments from the government. With the pres-ent societal structures, it seems that religious who receive Social Security should not deprive others (perhaps more deserving) of needed employment positions. In some dioceses it is established policy not to accept into stipend-ed positions religious women who are over sixty. If protective structures for an institute's works do not include allocationof salaries, or stipends which are independent of Social Security payments, then receipt of the latter would generate for the ministry an artificial security which could destabilize long-term plans for it. (3) In the third category above, which here in Australia refers principally to Catholic education, lie the greatest current problems of placement of reli-gious personnel. In most of Australia, the recruitment of staffs for nonpro-motional positions in Catholic schools is in the hands of local principals. This power evolved with the gradual acceptance of lay staffs into the parish schools previously staffed by religious. Perhaps to our discredit, it is only recently (since about 1975) that there has been widespread acceptance of lay 678 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 teachers into promotional positions. In general, the power of religious supe-riors to place personnel in diocesan works is limited to those positions which were previously held by other religious of their own congregations. Declining numbers, and thus declining positions, led to some religious being exposed to market forces for ministries. School principals, whether religious or lay, still have the power and responsibility of staffing. This has now become an excessive burden for principals of Catholic schools in the coun-try, and an excessive power for those in the city. One solution would be to have staff recruitment moved to the systemic level so that consistent staffing policies might be applied across dioceses. This might lessen the number of religious who today feel forced into the fourth category above. The exposure of some religious to market forces in the area of ministry is quite a different method of missioning than the appropriate placement of a person by a religious superior. The question should be asked: Is it just for the two types of missioning to coexist ~within the same religious institute? The answer to this important question will require great honesty and humility on the part of religious leaders. Religious exposed to market forces are some-times refused employment in diocesan works or, when school enrollments drop, dismissed by school principals of their own congregation who have the power of recruitment. Such practices are effectively structuring out of Catholic education the few teaching religious who are left, and are a serious cause of unemployment amongst religious. Some religious teachers even turn to the state school system for employment rather than lose touch with the classroom and "real life." Considering the authentic commitment which the religious have made, this alternative seems to the present writer an anomaly. On the other hand, relatively little investment has been made by the wider Australian Church over the last twenty years for the education in theology of lay teachers for Catholic schools. The above problems can now be solved only by negotiations between diocesan and religious leaders who have in mind the well-being of both the mission and the persons. As well, past oversight in planning could perhaps be avoided in the future if religious are encouraged to contribute ideas through appropriate media. Adequate Use of Media There are two levels of written communication which are particularly important in preserving a correct balance between responsibility for authen-tic mission and respect for the rights of individuals. These levels are media within the wider Church and media within religious institutes. Media within the Wider Church. Recruitment of personnel for Catholic works is effected via both the Catholic journals and the metropolitan dailies. Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 679 Like most other countries, Australia has its regular Catholic state and dioce-san papers. Because these are virtually all the Catholic community has for information on what is happening in the Church, they warrant better support and readership than they receive~ In general, editorial staffs in this country strive to maintain an adequate standard of journalism. Despite these vehicles of communication, religious leaders sometimes offer only private invitations to coveted positions which become available. They would avoid much criti-cism if they were to justify, via the Catholic media, such private invitations, especially those to academic posts in Catholic theological institutes, which remain predominantly male. Media within Religious Institutes. If any group of people ever needed to be skilled in transmitting information to each other, it would surely be the members of a religious community. Today there is frequent reference to the "role of the prophet" within religious institutes. Prophets must have vehicles in which they can deliver the message, and the printed word offers the par-ticular benefit of time for considered expression and response. I believe that religious institutes need especially these two kinds of print media: directo-ries and forums for challenge. Directories. In order for general leaders to affirm a work as part of the institute's authentic mission, they must understand clearly what the work is about and be sufficiently convinced of its value to defend it, if necessary, at the general chapter. On the other hand, if chapter delegates believe that the congregation has more ministries than they can validly affirm, they should seriously and courageously argue that systematic steps be taken towards reducing the number.4 Chapter delegates, in order to make valid contribu-tions to discussions and debates regarding works, must have information about their nature and value. Since this is so, it stands to reason that those who elected them--namely, all members of the institute--should have it too. Therefore, each apostolic institute in today's world needs its own official directOry, revised and published annually and containing information on the residence and mission of each member. The directory, which would be an implicit demographic study of the institute, should contain, as well, an annu-al financial statement of the institute and its provinces, with statistics on works which had some elements in common. I believe this would assist greatly in the appropriate placement of personnel and act as a deterrent to increasing fragmentation in ministries. Forum for Challenge. If members of religious institutes with at least parallel qualifications to lay teachers are to have the same work opportuni-ties in the institutes' traditional ministries, then positions that are open should be advertised first within "the system." Trade unions insist on this 680 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 right for their civilly employed members, so it should not be too much to expect within the religious institutes themselves. As well, religious subjects often have insights and ideas for better management which are unknown to superiors. They should have the opportunity to share them. Their ideas may be of benefit to all so that problems like unemployment may be addressed before they gain a hold. Since religious women were, for over a hundred years, to an extent indoctrinated not to express an opinion, they will need to be encouraged to contribute. Therefore, internal journals which contain forums for challenge must have a mandate from a competent authority and must be frequent and regular. When what is written in them is not uncharita-ble- that is, criticizes a policy or a structure and does not attack a particular person--and is limited in audience to professed members of the institute, then it is not a threat to loyalty. Indeed, such a forum could become a c.orpo-rate examination of conscience and could preserve or restore the balance between responsibility for authentic mission and the rights of the person. It could also act as a specific prevention or cure of the evil of unemployment within the religious institute. In educating religious to the use of an internal journal, it should be pointed out that the institute, being made up of human beings, is quite subject to error and that it could be harmful to their beioved congregation to write only of its virtues and to overlook its faults, including possibly incorrect policies with regard to the placement of personnel. Conclusion More than twenty years have passed now since religious congregations first experienced declining numbers and lay teachers became an ac.cepted part of Catholic education here in Australia, so there has be~n adequate time to face up to problems which have occurred regarding recruitment for specif-ic works. Sister Georgine recommends that a program "address all the dimensions of employment and unemployment." However, "job clubs" and "comprehensive programs" are unlikely to take shape until religious leaders acknowledge that the problem is there. I believe that leaders also have the duty to provide those engaged in the works with information and reflection based on surveys or particular works so that they will know what the scope of that work will be in the future, how long the work itself is likely to sur-vive, and what the superiors are planning in that regard. There is no guarantee that any of the above proposals are a complete cure for the evil of unemployment within religious life. However, endeavor-ing to maintain a correct balance between responsibility f~r the mission and respect for the persons of the members of the institute goes to the causes of the evil and is more likely to effect a long-term cure. The use of appropriate Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 681 media is a method of achieving the "maximum feasible participation" in effecting a cure. We are living in a world at the brink of the third Christian millennium. It is a world which needs the commitment of consecrated reli-gious life as much as ever and perhaps more than ever. A life wholly dedi-cated to contemplation is a rare gift. However, there is plenty of evidence to indicate that apostolic institutes of consecrated life have an important place in contemporary society. The chief characteristic of Christian moral doctrine besides its Christocentric orientation is the integration of love and justice, the latter being "the strong and firm will to give to each his due.''5 For a reli-gious woman who has sacrificed potential marriage, motherhood, and career in order to serve the Church in an institute devoted to apostolic ministry, unemployment is a serious injustice. The Church and religious institutes should work together for both prevention and cure. NOTES I See R. Hoffman, "Mission," in The New Catholic Encyclopedia. 2 For the purpose of the present article, the word employment will sometimes refer to apostolic work, whether or not the religious has employment status in the civil law. 3 The present writer admits to a certain bias towards instrumental music teaching. I believe that this work is of great importance to the liturgy of the Church. One of the long-term effects of the mergings of parish schools and the employment of lay teach-ers in Australian Catholic education was the death of much traditional music prac-tice, which was not absorbed into the diocesan systems and had few protective structures. It seems to me that the most important strategy for preserving the practice of music is to remove revenue management from the hands of the individual teacher. Otherwise the work tends to become like that of a self-employed person--a situation which is not compatible with either poverty or obedience. Skilled musicians in parishes attract worshipers. I believe that budgeting towards producing musicians for the Church should be part of its primary mission. 4 The idea of permitting novices to have unlimited scope in "working out" their future ministry is, I believe, a recipe for disaster; apostolic congregations already have difficulty in staffing missions recognized as authentic to their charism. 5 New Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 8, p. 70. Quotation from St. Thomas Aquinas (ST 2 a2ae, 58.1). Inner Africa: A ,Journey of Conversion Susan Rakoczy, 1.H.M. Sister Susan Rakoczy, I.H.M., began ministry in South Africa in October 1989 and currently lectures in systematic theology and spirituality at St. Joseph's Theological Institute in Cedara. Her address is 21 Buchanan Street; 3290 Howick; South Africa. It was about 2:30 in the morning as the door of the plane was opened. The humid and steaming air of West Africa enveloped me as I was pushed down the stairs by the crowd onto the tarmac of Ougadougou airport. Swept along with women carrying immense bondles on their heads, children looking for their parents, and determined men striding forward, 1 suddenly thought, "I am on holy ground--I am in Africa." But if I had bent down to kiss the ground I would have been trampled--better to let myself be borne by the flow of humanity to the small airport terminal and the arrival procedures. In the rush and confusion of all the formalities I could sense that I had now entered something deeper than my own self for 1 was touching "mother Africa." Later, as we stowed our luggage in a friend's car for the drive to the hostel to spend what was left of the night I wondered, "What have I done with my life?" What indeed. ? The experiences of my years in Ghana (1982 to 1988) provided many different answers to that question. Most essentially they led me into the depths of conversion Which I can describe now as "inner Africa" for I soon learned that "mother Africa" would ask everything of me. The Call Some people dream all their lives of serving outside their own country, but that was not my experience. Not until I was finishing my doctoral studies in religion at Catholic University in 1980 did I sense a call to serve beyond North America. Through the months of preparation, prayer, and discussion 682 Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 683 which preceded my journey to Ghana, people often asked, "Why are you going?" Slowly I clarified my own sense of call, speaking of my desire to share something of my gifts and education with the "young Church" of Africa. As I read about Africa and its needs, struggles, and promise I became aware of a continent and Church reaching towards maturity of faith and vision. Somehow I sensed very deeply that I wanted to be part of that. But it is not enough just to desire to serve in Africa. It is an immense continent, large enough to contain the continental United States two-and-a-half times. I received an invitation to teach in the major seminary in northern Ghana (our congregation had come to that section of the country in 1976) and so the plan was to come and spend a year getting acquainted with the culture and life of the people and then to begin teaching in 1983. As with many people who come to Africa, things did not turn out quite as I had planned. While I did work in Navrongo, a small town in Ghana for a year, the seminary door never opened wide enough to admit a woman theologian. But life at the Centre for Spiritual Renewal, a retreat center in the city of Kumasi, gave me a much wider scope for ministry with opportunities in retreats and spiritual direction, intensive leadership formation with prayer group leaders, and writing and editing, all of which enabled me to enter more deeply into Ghanaian life and culture. All the preparation I tried to do, while helpful in some ways, was still inadequate to the challenge of Africa. After I arrived I realized that what I needed was a radical openness, a sense of adventure, a desire to meet the continent and its people on their own terms. As the day of departure neared my own sense of expectancy of what was ahead increased. Shortly before I left I spent a few days on retreat at our com-munity hermitage. The entries in my journal for those days speak of praying for courage and joy and experiencing great wonder at this call I had received. The night before I left I wrote: Tomorrow~departure. I feel more than ready. Mostly I feel a deep free-dom and joy which has placed fear on the sidelines. Somehow 1 know I will meet the Lord--in and of his people--in ways never before imag-ined and experienced. And that is enough--more than enough--to move me across oceans and cultures. 1 go in utter joy and freedom. As the plane left United States soil the next day, ! remember how my whole spirit moved forward towards Africa. Soon I descended the steps of that plane that hot morning in Ougadougou. Inner and outer Africa now began. Call To Conversion As I reflect on my years in Ghana, I experience them in the images of 684 / Review for Religious; September-October 1991 "outer" and "inner" Africa. The first was the living of African reality in terms of my ministry; it describes what I did, with whom I lived, the rich-ness of my experience in those years. But "inner Africa" was the core of it all. My years in Ghana were fore-most an experience of conversion--a turning from, in order to turn to some-thing else, something which challenged everything I thought I was, knew, and had within me. Paul Robb, S.J., describes well the essence of conversion as a journey into the unknown: It is difficult to endure conversion because it seems to put into jeopardy our very lifestyle and ministry, but even more so because we sense that it touches the very roots of our life. It reaches deep into our being---our personality, our choices, our very self. It touches in places that are unknown, places where we are strangers. To begin a journey into an unfamiliar, haunting land is frightening, but not to know whether we will find life or death, blessing or curse, at the end can be terrifying. To enter the journey with all its uncertainties proves the possibility of finding life and life in abundance. Not to begin the journey, but to harden and steel oneself against it, is already death.2 The images are true and strong and evocative of my own African experi-ence. In my first weeks, as I entered "outer Africa" in its immensity with all the challenges of a new culture, 1 also experienced a sense of inner chaos. Some days I felt as if I were drowning, the waters of Africa enveloping me, About two months after I arrived I realized that I had to truly "walk through the door of Africa" ifI were to survive. In my journal I wrote: I have straddled first- and third-world existence in great disharmony. Today I felt that part of this is ended--it is within Africa now--that (God's) grace will work, from the inside out. It is as though 1 have now truly entered Africa. Once I had walked onto the solid ground of Africa never again did I feel this inner chaos. The work of conversion could now begin. These conver-sions were multiple and touched every dimension of my life as a North American woman of faith in a radically different culture: My first-world perspective was turned upside down; I was called from idealism to realism; I moved from giving to receiving; 1 experienced strength becoming weakness; I passed from death to life--from myself to God alone. Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 685 First-World Perspective Turned Up-Side Down We come to a new culture as we are. If we are even halfway faithful to the challenges of cross-cultural experience, our own self-understanding of our home culture will change dramatically. This I experienced very pro-foundly. I discovered that I had brought a very large amount of cultural bag-gage with me. It was disconcerting to be criticized as "too American" at times--that is, too self-assured, too curious, too organized, too conscious of time; too ready with my questions and opinions. What was salutary, if painful, was the opportunity to allow my world-view to shift into new patterns. I first learned that the United States is not the center of the universe, even if it often acts that way and its military and eco-nomic policies impact the rest of the planet in such dramatic ways. It is one country among many, with its own strengths and weaknesses. I learned also how diverse and beautiful are the gifts of the people of other countries. 1 especially experienced this gift in the opportunities 1 had to meet people from so many different parts of the world and to enter into something of the richness of the world's cultural heritage, to see how differently people can feel, think, and organize human life. There were two central ways in which my world began to be "turned upside down": my experience of poverty and my attempts to learn new dimensions of the common life and hospitality. Poverty is a hard and often a "loaded" word. We fight it and yet some-how sense that in being poor we will find the key to new life in solidarity with others. The Gospel's call to detachment from riches and from every-thing that would hinder our response to the invitation from Jesus to disciple-ship has always challenged Christians profoundly. To come to Ghana was certainly to see poverty and share in it in some small ways. It was indeed a shock for me to see the extent of poverty and marginality: lack of clean and safe water for so many, schools with few books, hospitals and clinics without supplies, limited transportation, rudi-mentary communication, erratic electricity. Some of the practical details of my new lifestyle were a challenge. It was "farewell" to dependable electrici-ty, unlimited water, telephone service, easily available fuel, and to book-shops, movies, and regular postal service. It was, on the other hand, "hello" to a sense of living on the "edge of things" at times--lanterns and attempts to get kerosene for them, recycling every possible drop of water, limited food supplies, simple amusements, and difficulties in communication. All these changes were hard in different ways. I wrote: I am struck again by the gap between theory and practice in my life, for 686 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 example, to talk about poverty, being with the poor--and then not to embrace poverty wholeheartedly, as indeed Jesus did. The:conversion to acceptance of and a certain ease with my new simple lifestyle took time. I never did get used to the erratic postal system and its consequences for poor communication with family and friends. On the other hand, as the years went by I gradually experienced in myself a certain ability to live with much less and to find in that a real freedom. To have to do things simply and patiently experience inconvenience gradually became a way for me to share some sense of solidarity with the poor who have no options and no outside resources. I was becoming comfortable with the simplicity of Ghanaian life and my heart was slowly becoming centered on what was most essential. I was not poor in the way the ordinary Ghanaian is poor but I did come to experience in small ways the shocks and diminishments of poverty. 1 also learned new meanings of community life and hospitality because African life is lived in common. The extended family of several generations living together in one compound has been the normal pattern in rural areas. Daily activities take place outside, and people are inside only when it is rain-ing, or at night, or if they are sick. The atmosphere in both urban and rural areas is one of physical and psychological openness to friend and stranger. Entering into such a different cultural atmosphere of hospitality and availability also challenged my Western habits. In the West we live inside; people come into our lives generally at our convenience thanks to the cultur-al presuppositions that one lives by calendars and schedules. But in a situa-tion where the culture says "welcome" all that changes. People walk into one's life often unannounced, and the person at the door could bring the unexpected pleasure of a friend coming to visit or someone arriving for a retreat without any previous communication or someone coming to ask for prayer---or the bishop with overseas visitors. 1 learned to be always ready to adapt to people's needs and to realize that my life and my time were really no longer my own, Prayer time was often interrupted; reading and study had to be immediately abandoned to answer someone's need. Privacy became very relative since, although I had my own room and office, my own space and time were now the resources of the people I tried to serve. These demands taught me much about my own selfishness, the need to have my own way, my own schedule, my own plans. I never did become totally comfortable with being physically and psychologically available at all times. Yet gradually I learned to absorb something of the spirit of welcome and hospitality which are so important in Ghanaian culture and to live them in my halting way. Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 687 The first dimension of conversion in my life then was a shift in con-sciousness from being a woman of the first world to one living in the third world and trying to enter fully into life there. My American perspective and cultural habits were turned upside down and inside out. The result was a double-consciousness for I saw, and felt, and experienced first- and third-world realities at the same time. Nothing could or would be the same again. From Idealism to Realism Soon after I came to Ghana I realized what a "good press" the African Church has in the West. The reading I had done before I arrived had given me the overwhelming impression of a "young Church" on its way to real inculturation as a true African expression of the Christian faith, with signifi-cant achievements already made in liturgy and catechesis. It is true that inculturation is happening, theological development and reflection are proceeding, liturgy is more authentically African in some places--but the pace of everything is slow and that is the pace of Africa. Idealism about the Church was gradually replaced by a realism about the Church as it is. To be a "young" Church is exactly that. In the southern part of Ghana modern Catholic

Issue 46.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1987. ; REVIEW FO, 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. REWEW FOg RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1987 by REVIEW FOg RELiGiOUS. Single copies $2.50. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail); airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rv.vlv.w FOR REI.I(;IOUS: 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 M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors May/June, 1987 Volume 46 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOIl REI.I~;IOtlS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW fOR REI.I~:IOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassgtte recordings as a service for the visu-ally impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Mary and Our Reconciliation in Christ Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald has written yet another thoughtful and fruitful article on Mary our Mother. His last article on Mary was "Our Lady of Wisdom" (May/June, 1986). His last article in our pages was "Invisibly Companioned" (January/February, 1987). Father Macdonald still resides at: St. Joseph's; Wellington Road; Todmorden, Lanc.: 0LI4 5HP England. It is puzzling to read from time to time that,- seemingly, the appeal of Our Lady is chiefly psychological rather than personal. So, for example, "Mary .has been a very popular image for both women and men . Men still Often seem to derive a great deal from the image of Mary, perhaps cel-ibate men. in particular, since Mary as mother provides a safe, that is, sex-ually taboo womanly image.''~ Is her appeal then in what she represents rather than who she is? Is she a popular image or a popular person? Every individual suggests more than herself, of course, but in the living of the everyday Catholic this emphasis on "the image of Mary" seems sadly unreal. There is a world of difference between admiring her icon at an exhibition and taking her into our home in faith and love. Insofar as she is seen primarily as a psychological refuge she is no longer the mother of Jesus as the Gospel reflects her. It was no image but someone authentically human who "gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swad-dling clothes, and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn" (Lk 2:7). A male religious might be forgiven instinctive irritation as he feels him-self being patronized. More to the point, being particularly singled out as finding Our Lady a safety valve seems to contradictexperience. Is it true? The experience of an adult lifetime spent in pastoral ministry at the grass roots could more plausibly make a case for the attraction Our Lady has for the married woman or the professional man. In thinking of those with an 321 322 / Review for Religious, Ma.y--June, 1987 enviably marked and integrated devotion to Our Lady, the male celibate, while there, is by no means primary. Mary means so much to so many, far beyond the few who, it is suggested, see in her particularly a safe, sex-ually taboo womanly image. A lifetime could be spent in a Catholic com-munity without ever meeting many of that particular group, though one would certainly find genuine devotion to Our Lady. Too, contemporary novelists and journalists notwithstanding, genuine devotion to her from the male celibate has surely stronger ties than sexual security. It is a Catholic thing, not a psychological need. It is of the faith. Again, does everyday devotion to Our Lady really express itself like that? Is it mainly a popular image useful for meeting a psychological need? Whether it be the assembly line, down-market product of "repository art,'" or-the faith-aesthetic creation of a Giotto, the Christian can distinguish between the person and the product. The picture or image can focus atten, tion, and there are psychological overtones in every glimpse of Our Lady, since every individual carries more meaning than he or she knows. Mary may transform whomever and whatever she is introduced to in the context of Christian devotion. She creates her own climate in the generations con-sidering her ,blessed among women. Yet traditionally and individually within the Church, the person of Mary is known and loved beyond all that art, theory and culture might suggest. Faith and the feminine are lovely, life-enhancing qualities. To speculate about them may have some point, but cannot be compared to seeing them in a particular woman. Here lies Our Lady's appeal. Her union with her Son as the Gospel reveals this, and her oneness with us in our humanity and faith are definitive. Many talented peop!e can perhaps paint an icon, but only the specially prepared, it is said, may paint its eyes. Insight is a gift. The scientist and man of contemporary culture who considers the cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris exclusively in terms of its construction has literally not seen it. In ignoring God and her whose name it was given, he has lost the key which would unlock its meaning. This is much more than simply discarding a relative culture. The contemporary Catholic, attracted by the appeal of Our Lady, might say of her what the medieval mystic said of being gripped by the desire for contemplation: "You would run a thousand miles to talk about it with someone you know has really experienced it, and yet when you get there you can find nothing to say. ''-~ One need not be able to articulate what one knows. The common tongue of Lourdes~ Fatima, Banneux and "down-town anywhere," as far as Our Lady is concerned, is faith working through Mary and Our Reconciliation / 393 love. With the mother of the Word made flesh dwelling among us, we are in touch with someone rooted in humanity and faith. ,.- This, then, is why devotion to Our Lady in Catholic tradition is not something subjective, as a liking for sugar, but an objective reality whether we advert to it or not. It is not an arcane secret given to some esoteric group inhabiting an ethereal heaven. It cannot be when so many Christians' first real introduction to Mary is often in the world of the Christmas carol, where "earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone . " She is known by the company she keeps--like her Son, easily going to the houses of sinners to be with them. The consequent allegiance she has won in the Christian world is far from the preserve of a Gnostic group. She is real to so many. "~ray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death," is possibly the most common prayer of invocation in the Catholic world. We can, perhaps, understand something of her appeal if we consider the best which can be said of Christian life, and glimpse how genuinely she reflects it. The anonymous medieval author mentioned earlier suggests that the human spirit can safely work with God once it "has been checked by the three witnesses, Scripture, direction, and common sense.-3 We can usefully consider how Our Lady reflects authentic Christian living in the light of that rubric. A New Creation Although not to everyone's taste, our faith is incarnational and so, "God'was in Christ reconciling the world to himself" (2 Co 5: 19), says St. Paul. He goes on to explain that, as an apostle and preacher, he shares in the same office of reconciliation, since God "gave us the ministry of reconciliation . . . entrusting to us the message of reconciliation" (2 Co 5: 18-19). It follows, therefore, that "we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us" (2 Co 5:20). Paul's mediatorial role is thus heavily emphasized in line after line. Such a mandate implies that who-ever is so commissioned as God's ambassador to help reconcile people to God must have received the enabling power of God to help him do it. He is, then, attuned to both God and man. His very person helps in binding people to God. "All this is from God" (2 Co 5:18). How is it done? It all depends on what is seen. Paul begins where the New Testament begins, with God first loving us in Christ. "For the love of Christ overwhelms us when we reflect." (2 Co 5: 14), he says, quite bowled over as he comes to an ever-wondering realization of what God has done for us in Christ. Christ, as one of us, lived, died and rose from a grave so that, in him, we might break out of our congenitally self-centered exis-tence which can even challenge the will of God, and so be able to "live 3~.4 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 no longer for themselves but for him [Christ] who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15). Insofar as I am at one with the selfless Christ I can do the same. This vision of God in Christ can,provide the dynamic to draw me out of myself towards the will of God. Paul, a man among men, shackled, too, in the same self-centered world, and so wanting to be free of it, but seemingly powerless to change, now knows that this is possible in Christ. Paint the picture in the most somber colors, as bleak as can be, in a world where personal sin and selfishness can wreak havoc in epidemic proportions, and in it all Paul sees Christ. "For our sake, he [the Father] made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Co 5:21). Whatever depths of evil can be reached individually or collectively, God in Christ is there empowering those who would accept him to break free of its infernal power: "All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself" (2 Co 5:18). This Paul sees and is part of as Christ's ambassador, engaged in reconciling his world to God. So deep is this view of reality that Paul sees it as something wholly new, not just a change or adaptation. "If anyone is in Christ he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold the new has come" (2 Co 5:17). His center of reference now is God giving himself in Christ. The selfless Christ replaces the selfish Paul, as he breathes the invigorating air of one now free to live for God.He is still an imperfect man with partial vis~ion, but insofar as his lifeqs a response to God in Christ, he can only describe what is happening to him as a new creation. Ideally, he describes Chris-tian reality. His world has been recreated. Glorifying God If such a grasp of reality is true of Paul and the best of Christians, and true of us :all to a degree, it is, self-evidently, descriptive, too, of Our Lad~,. That vision is flawlessly realized in her. Sinless from her conception and now assumed into heaven, she is a new creation from the mind of God. So alive to God is she that she is alert to the implications of her being way beyond any experience of ours. She hungered for the will of God, so it became her food (see Lk 1:53). "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your Word" (Lk 1:38) is the total response of the new creation. She is blessed, the Gospel maintains, because she believed and there-fore gave herself wholly to the Word of God. She is particularly blessed "among women, and blessed is the fruit of [her] womb" (Lk 1:42) as in her God in Christ was reconciling the world to himself. Her Son Jesus "will save his people from their sins" (Mt i:21). As the Word became Mary and Our Reconciliation / 325 flesh in her womb and in her life, having been welcomed in faith and love into her heart, her maternal being from first to last becomes part of the gift of her Son: "And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother"; "But standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother's sister" (Mt 2:1 I, Jn 19:25). Only a mother, perhaps, could under-stand the give and take of that exchange over a lifetime. Mary, one with her Son at so many levels as the years went by, learned so much of life as he lived in and for his Father's will, and yet "he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart" (Lk 2:51). The reflective Chris-tian, too, has assimilated much of the perplexity of life in oneness with the heart of Mary. When she stood with her crucified Son as his life ended in ag6ny, "Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near" (Jn 19:26), and gave them to each other. Far from seeing this as a son tying up loose ends as best he could--his use of the word woman sug-gests more than a domestic arrangement--generations have felt the weight of those words from the Cross, and have gladly accepted the relationship, taking ourLady into their own homes. She is not then seen as just a type or evocative image of yesterday. Her appeal is of today and tomorrow, as her reconciling presence helps Christians to welcome and live the appeal of the Gospel in the Church. Admittedly these Gospel glimpses of Mary are or~ly straws in the wind, but many in the Church have loved the way the wind was blowing. The Pauline sketch of reconciliation in Second Corinthians outlined earlier, can become real in her person. This is especially true of those who could never read St. Paul, nor perhaps even pronounce the word "reconciliation." She radiates Christ, invariably generating the wonder and pleasur6 of Elizabeth's welcome as Mary hurried to her door: "And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" (Lk 1:43). "Mother of my Lord" is, in the context, a new creation in Christ, ideally and providentially there to help reconcile us to God. Her heaven, too, is being spent doing good upon earth. DirectionmWhat Do the Saintlike Advise? Given that Our Lady, because of who she is in the providence of God, mediates God in Christ to us through her feminine, reconciling presence, we can reinforce that insight by continuing to take the advice of an English mystic and seek direction. What did those with the clearest Christian insight advise? What did the saints andsaintlike do? Perhaps we can glance at Julian of Norwich who, in her fourteenth-century hermitage, has distilled 396 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 sufficient insight to be found today on contemporary bookshelves as a best-selling paperback. Julian tlad asked for a bodily vision of Our Lady. She was never given one, but "when Jesus said: 'Do you wish to see her?" it seemed to me that I had the greatest delight that he could have given me in this spiritual vision of her which he gave me.-4 Delight, of course, is characteristic of Julian's understanding of the Faith, and she finds Our Lady delightful. She is enthralled by this God-given insight, and clear as to its implications: "And so he [Jesus] wishes it to be known that all who take delight in him should take delight in her and in the delight that he has in her and she in him." There is no suggestion here of tension, division or embarrassment. It is all so perfectly natural. Julian's understanding of the Faith, like St. Paul's, centers on Godwin Christ reconciling the world to himself through the cross. So suffused is it by the love of God--Julian really had grasped Paul's insight--that she can only delight in what God is doing. Responding as she does to Our Lady, she believes that she is sharing in Christ's delight in his mother and in hers in him. "For after myself [Jesus] she is the greatest ~joy that I could show you, and the greatest delight and honor to me." Far from seeing any contradiction or distraction in so honoring Our Lady, Julian sees it as the express will of Christ. One might reasonably expect this, as the relationship echoes the best in human nature as well as suggesting the hundredfold of all who are at one with God. Whenever delight is experienced, the whole person is marked, together with a~wish that everyone could see it, coupled with sad-ness and incomprehension if the delight cannot be shared. Julian, a new creation in Christ, savoring with an immediacy given to few his reconciling presence, sees Mary as part of the treasure to be found in Christ. Mary, for her, is not tacked on in a moment of misguided devotion, but rather soldered on by the love and will of God, intrinsically, if subordinately, part of the reconciliation found in Christ. In Mary she sees herself and all of us, "as if he [Jesus] said, do you wish to see in her how you are loved? It is for love of you that I have made her so exalted, so noble, so honorable; and this delights me. And I wish it' to°delight you." Maryqs no shadow across the face of Christ, but a further means of shar-ing delight in what God is doing in Christ. As one in Christ we may savor this, too, and insofar as we can see just how much we are loved in her, enjoy a comforting glimpse of our present and future status. It is not without interest that in the shorter text of Julian's "Revela-tions," believed to have been written some twenty years before the longer Mary and Our Reconciliation /327 text we have been using, she adds, after seeing Christ more gloriously than she had yet realized, "In this I was taught that every contemplative soul to whom it is given to look and seek, will see Mary and pass on to God through contemplation.-5 As always, in Julian the tone is uniform and the perspective unforced, and her faith is so alive in her belief that attachment to Our Lady will inevitably bring us to its source in God. Mary herself effects the transition, reconciling to God whoever is open to h~r influence. ~ It is said that, increasingly, women find less and less in Our Lady "as women discover themselves as less passive than Mary is made to appear in the gospels.",° They therefore look for other models. Women can, of course, speak for themselves, but as regards passivity in the gospels, it is useful to remember that the biblical "divine passive" is often just a passive tense serving to emphasize the wholly present activity of God. So, for exam-ple, Paul speaks of Christ, "who for their sake, died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15). God in Christ is not molding plasticine. The death and resurrection of Christ is not the behavior of a mechanic using an inert tool, but God's response to a life actively given to his will, even to accepting death in his name. The passive tense implies an active God and willing human Cooperation, and so as Paul said of the process of reconciliation, "All this is from God" (2 Co 5:18). So, too, when Julian speaks of those "to whom it is given to look and to seek," far from indicating lack of initiative in a passive recipient, she is speaking of someone alert and alive, empowered by the driving Spirit of God:. Motherhood strikes one as possibly the least passive of all vocations, especially as glimpsed in Mary's life in the gospels. She is so attractive and influential today simply because whatever God said she did in'faith. Does anyone really believe that banner headlines in a newspaper or a pic-ture on the cover of Time magazine are the measure of lasting influence? With so much left unsaid in the gosPels, it may well be'that the feminine, creative, nourishing and responsive qualities of Mary are what God has valued in her. Without these, people wither and personal relations are bleak. The old advice is still sound: "Do not teach [God] his business. Let him be. He has enough might, skill and goodwill to do the best for you and for all who love him.''7 Julian is always concerned for her "fellow-Christians," and her delight in the Faith is tangible, though she, too, lived in a socially horrific age. Calm self-possession is her keynote, never raising her voice. There is none of the stress that takes so many women today to the bottle or drugs, the counselor or the hospital. So many are living lives of quiet desperation, while others are teetering on the edge of despair. She writes out of con- Review for Religious, ~May--June, 1987 cern, with the simplicity of wisdom reflecting what she sees in faith. Her teaching of the natural delight of mother and son, and Christ's desire that we share in it, since we see just how much we are loved by God .in her, is surely, "simple, courteous, joyful.''8 Her guidance is at one with so much that is good in the Church. Common Sense God was in Christ recon~ciiing the world to himself. Those closest to him are effective mediators of his presen.ce. Clearly, "Paul, an apostle-- not from men or through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father" (Ga l:l), is superbly placed, but the origin of that call is valid, too, for Our Lady: Immaculately~conceived, bringing Christ into the world, raising him, beside him as he died, praying in the Church then, and now within the Church gloriously assumed into heaven, common sense would suggest that such a woman cannot but help in reconciling us to God. "This is only what sanctified common sense would expect: that God should keep safe all who for love of him forsake themselves, indifferent to their Own welfare.-9 The safety that is now hers she wants to be ours, and almost instinctively the Catholic faithful have felt this. In view of who she ~is in the providence of God, generations have opened themselves to her influ-ence in an often very unsafe world. G.K. Chesterton emphasized this when he told of the reaction of two eminent nineteenth.century Victorians to news of the proclamation of Our Lady's Immaculate Conception. Prince Albert was the husband of the leg-endary Queen Victoria who gave her name to an era, .and W.E. Gladstone was one of the outstaffding political figures of the age. If Chesterton is to be believed, the proposed declaration by the pope of Our Lady's Immac-ulate Conception was greeted with indecent hilarity by the former and with grief by the latter, as each in his own way saw in it the sign of the immi-nent downfall of Catholic. Christianity. Both were agreed that it would be unpopular. Albert and Gladstone, who both worked conscientiously for the poor, "understood so little of what that crown and image really meant to millions of ordinary people . Yet the applewoman did not dash madly out of church; seamstresses in garrets did not dash their little images ,of Mary to the ground, on learning that she was named Immaculate."~° Chesterton then speak~ of the first appearance of Our Lady at Lourdes some four years later. While the influential and educated still puzzled, "little knots of poor peasants began to gather round a strange, starved child before a crack in the rocks from whence was to spring a strange stream and almost a new city; the rocks she had heard resound with a voice crying, 'I am the Immaculate Conception.' " Did Albert and Gladstone~ men of Mary and Our Reconciliation / 329 integrity, even remotely approach the influence for good with ordinary people that is associated with the name Bernadette Soubirous? Shrines such. as Lourdes and private revelations such as Julian's are not to be considered as though from St. Paul and the gospels. Yet as a fact of life within the Church and with the approval of the Church, such places and similar insights undeniably have helped reconcile so many from every walk of life to God. In the light of Mary's Immaculate Conception each one of us is handicapped and in need, and she has particular appeal for those who are aware of their need. Here, especially, her faith and her fem-ininity are found so attractive, as she is known to be present now in imag-inative sympathy. In the circumstances, common sense would direct us to her company. Jimmy Durante used to celebrate that he was "the guy who found the lost chord." Unhappily, in the same breath, he had to admit that he had lost it again! It is given to few to be truly original. Life, genes, language, skills, food--virtually everything of consequence that has made us what we are have been mediated to us by others. It is the human condition, and it is the supernatural condition. Even the insights of a St. Paul are, under God, largely the result of an interchange, often troubled, between himself and his people. "The fathers have eaten sour grapes and the children's teeth are set on edge," may not be valid in terms of personal guilt, but it is true in terms of personal influence. Human beings transmit life and superb medical care, as well as AIDS and drug-dependent babies. Often the fruits of the Spirit are mediated through others as are the sins of the flesh. We all have reason to thank God for some of the people we have met as well as to regret the influence of others. As mediated experience is a fact of life for good or ill, common sense; would suggest that nothing but good can come from opening ourselves to Our Lady's influence. Her selfless, perceptive being, one person in Christ with ourselves, radiates God as she delights in the Lord her Savior. What-ever life did to her, "Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Lk 2:19). Open to her reconciling influence, we too can assimilate experience, responding to God's presence in a sacramental world. Finally, common sense would especially commend that religious, who "ought to be poor in both fact and spirit" (Perfectae Caritatis 13), con-sider Our Lady's guidance in the search to be truly reconciled to God. She sees further and more clearly than any other guide in the Church, and her encouraging presence is always here. With increasing affluence, or possi-bly insensitivity, numbers of religious travel far looking for enlightenment. It is not wrong of course, but there does seem to be an innate contradic- 330 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 tion in the context of poverty when, for example, the search may take a religious to an a~hram in India, the deserts of Israel or California, or to the monasteries of Japan, Whatever insight is gained may be at the cost of a threadbare vow of poverty. Our Lady once appeared so nondescript as not to merit a first glance when she came with the offering of .the poor. Yet to the one truly enlight-ened by the Holy Spirit she was seen to be carrying in her arms "a light for revelation to the Gentiles" (Lk 2:32). She still reflects that same light now wherever we are in Christ. NOTES ~ M. Furlong, "The Power of,Images," The Way, October 1986, p. 299. 2 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter II, in The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works, Penguin Books, 1978. 3 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 10. 4 Julian of Norwich, Showings, Chapter 215, tr. E. C011edg~ and J. Walsh, Paulist Press, New York, 1978. All quotations are from Chapter 25 of this edition. 5 Julian of Norwich, op. cit., short text, Chapter 13. 6 M o Furlong, op. cit., p. 299. 7 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 10. 8 Julian of Norwich, op. cit., short text, Chapter 13. 9 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 6. ~0GoK. Chesterton, The Strange Talk of Two Victorians, and The Common Man, Sheed and Ward, 1950. Each quotation is from this essay. Brothers in the Church: A Vocational Reflection William Mann, F.S.C. Brother Mann is in his eighth year as a Formation Counselor for the Brothers of the Christian Schools. He had also served as Assistant Provincial for Formation (1979- 1984) and Director of Novices up to the present. He may be, addressed at: Christian Brothers; 83 West Lake Street: Skaneateles, New York 13152. ,~ few years ago, I volunteered to work at a Soup kitchen in Rhode Island. As my first experience of working with the street poor, it was both diffi-cult and challenging. Most of the time, I was afraid; and my fear kept me washing dishes and away from the people. I was attempting to make my contribution and avoid contact at the same time. On more courageous days, I would visit the dining room to sit and talk with the guests. Occasionally, I ventured, into the lounge to socialize after a meal. On one particularly hot day, a six-year-old child walked over to me, climbed into my lap, and using a shredded and badly soiled napkin wiped the perspiration from my forehead. He kissed my cheek, hugged me, and moved my heart. So para-lyzed by my own fears that I found it difficult to offer hospitality, this poor child reached out and offered me love. The story of my encounter with this young boy in a soup kitchen high-lights four key aspects of the vocation of Brother: I) ours is primarily a ministry of example; 2) our ministry on behalf of the Gospel and on behalf of the sanctification of others r~quires our own radical transformation; 3) those to whom we minister will be the instruments of our own conversion; and 4) 9urs is, therefore, primarily a ministry of reciprocity and mutuality. At the time that this incident occurred, I was teaching English and reli-gion in a coed secondary school. "Example makes a much greater 331 339 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 impression on the mind and heart than words."~ If I wanted my students to take seriously the admonition of Jesus to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and visit the imprisoned, then I knew that I was going to have to put those words into action myself. In twenty-two years as a Brother of the Christian Schools, I can hon-estly say that I have attempted to put my life at the service of the Gospel. As teacher, activity moderator, dormitory supervisor, school administrator, retreat director, and now formation counselor, I have worked consistently at proclaiming the Gospel by word and by example. Often this has been a humbling experience. "We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). My entire life as a vowed religious brother is a sincere, and yet sometimes inadequate, attempt to put the Gospel into practice. Accompanying those students each Wednesday to the soup kitchen was just one concrete instance of living out this commitment. "Your zeal for the children under your guidance would be very imperfect, if you expressed it only in teaching them; it will only become perfect if you practice yourself what you are teaching them. ''~- The example of Chris-tianity lived is what "brother-ing" is all about. Although religious brothers have traditionally been identified by the work we do (teacher, health practitioner, parish assistant, or manual laborer), I contend that our particular ministry, while significant in terms of individual congregations, is not of the essence of our vocation in the Church. It is the choice to be called "brother" which has always pinpointed our key contribution. Our very existence as brothers announces the new world order ushered in by Christ. We understand ourselves to be among those chosen by God "long ago and intended to become true ima.ges of his Son, so that his Son might be the eldest of many brothers [and sisters]" (Rm 8:29). The Scriptures tirge us to "love our neighbor as ourself" (Mt 22:39). That child reached out to me in love; and I believe that, in his person, Jesus Christ reached out to me and reminded me that, since God is my Father, all of us are'brothers and sisters. That young child reminded me that I was his brother, and challenged me to accept the people around me and not to get caught up in the differences of age, class, or color. He reminded me that God intends that we should love one another and that we should let go of the prejudices, defenses, fears, and barriers that hold us back from truly being his children, brothers and sisters of one another. This very ministry in which I was engaged on behalf of others was requiring that I °Brothers in the Church / 333 change. I was being challenged to live more fully the message that I preached. I was at the soup kitchen on this particular day precisely because I was trying to educate my students to share the gifts and the blessings of their own lives with those less fortunate. However, Jesus used the opportunity to challenge me to see him among the poor. This is the second key aspect of the vocation of brother; our consecration as brothers commits us to a life of transformation. Loving Jesus always means being changed. I wanted to help my students; Jesus chose to help me be more open to receiving the blessing the poor could be in my life. I went to the soup kitchen hoping to embody the loving presence of Jesus in the world; I returned home having encountered Jesus' loving presence in another. Initially, it seemed ironic that I was challenged to live the Gospel more wholeheartedly by the very people for whom I was attempting to be its proclamation. This was, however, the very heart of the teaching of St~ John Baptist DeLaSalle on what it means to be a brother. Furthermore, this was not only DeLaSalle's teaching; it was his own experience. We minister to others, but they call us to holiness. St. John Baptist DeLaSalle founded the Brothers of-the Christian Schools in France in 1679 to give a Christian education to the children of the working class and the poor. By 1682, however, the Society of the Chris-tian Schools was threatened with collapse. DeLaSalle urged his first di~cj-. pies to trust in Providence. As with the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, God would provide (Mt 6:25-30). The brothers challenged .DeLaSalle's right to say these things. He still had great family weal~l~ and a prestigious position as Canon of the Cathedral of Reims. What did he know of trusting in Divine Providence? If the schools collapsed, he would be safe. In his attempt to minister to the brothers, DeLaSalle hims61f was called' to holiness. He attempted to announce the Gospel to them; they challenged tiimto a fuller living of the Gospel. The first biographers report that so complete was his devotion tO the brothers and to the foundation of the Christian Schools that he heard in their challerlge the invitation of Jesus to take the Gospel more seriously, resign his Canonry, and distribute his wealth among the poor.3 Christ continues to speak to the brother through his disciples. If" we open our eyes and our hearts, we will continue to hear in them the invita-tion to draw closer to God. I believe that~this is what DeLaSalle meant when he wrote: "You can be assured that if you act this way [with an ardent zeal] for their salvation, God himself will take responsibility for yours."4 He was not speaking here of some kind of mysterious and passive 334 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 transformation. He was articulating his own experience. In proclaiming the Gospel to others, the Gospel lays claim on our own hearts. God uses the people and the situations of our lives to evangelize us. Through them and for the sake of the Gospel, God gradually refashions us into the image of his Son. Over and over again, the people and the situations of my life have pro-vided the opportunity to draw closer to Christ. There have been many times in my life when Jesus has asked me to recognize him and to love him in another person. Sometimes that person has been someone for whom I cared deeply; at times, that person has been a complete stranger. What has so often struck me in the Gospel has been the ability of Jesus to be open to all kinds of people in so many different situations. He saw in every person he met a reflection of his Father, a new and unique and beautiful side of God that could be seen in no other person or in no other place on this earth. I believe that Jesus calls us to open our eyes and our hearts to him as he continues to show himself to us in one another. Hence, ours is a ministry marked by reciprocity and mutuality. "They are a letter which Christ dictates to you, which you write each day in their hearts, not with ink, but by the Spiri! of the living God.-5 In inviting others to holiness, our own lives are opened to holiness. Those to whom we min-ister facilitate the capturing by the Gospel of our own hearts. I more and more suspect that this is the key aspect of the vocation of brother. In our openness to the evangelical dimension of everyday life, we provide our clearest witness on behalf of the Gospel. What greater example can be given than that I allow another to become the instrument of my own con-version to a fuller living of Gospel values? Jesus Christ is the "pearl of great price" (Mt 13: 44-46), and I ardently .desire to "share Jesus with those who have been entrusted to my care. We brothers desire to share "the treasure we have found hidden in the field of our own lives. ,,6 Our world is already bombarded with empty and meaningless words. What is needed are people who not only speak of Jesus but who act as followers of Jesus. What is needed are people who follow him so wholeheartedly that they become new incarnations of God's loving presence in the world. This is what I believe the vocation of brother is all about; this is what I am trying to do with my life---do this because I.believe this is what God Wants me to do. Furthermore, I do it because I believe that there are millions of people on our planet today~some Chris-tians, some Jews and Moslems, som6 far away, but very many are young Americans who look,to see if anyone any longer takes Jesus Christ seri- Brothers" in the Church / 335 ously. What hangs in the balance is the very credibility of the Gospel itself: 7 St. Paul assures us that the wisdom of this world is not the wisdom of God (I Co 3~!9); and I do not doubt that, in the face of a modern' Amer-ican society that encourages and fosters a pursuit of pleasure, possessions, and self-interest,8 it is perceived by many as foolhardy to be willing to want God to be more important than anything else in this world, and courageous enough to take the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. Yet we broth-ers are bold enough to believe that our own radical, personal conversion to Gospel values really has the potential to make a difference in the lives of those around us. We believe that this is the gift which Jesus Christ intends us to be for his Church. As DeLaSalle writes: "Be convinced of what St. Paul says, that you plant and water the seed, but it is God through Jesus Christ who makes it grow, that he is the one who brings your work to fulfillment?. ~ Earnestly ask him to make his Spirit come alive in you, since he has chosen you to do his work.-9 NOTES ~ John Baptist DeLaSalle, Meditations for the Time of Retreat, trans. Augustine Loes (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1975), p. 94] 2 DeLaSalle, p. 80~ 3 John Baptist Blain, The Life. of John Baptist DeLaSalle, trans. Richard Arnandez (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1982), Vol. I, Book I, pp. 81-84; Eli Maillefer, The Life of John Baptist DeLaSalle, trans. William Quinn (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1963), pp. 27-28. 4 DeLaSalle, p. 91. 5 DeLaSalle, p. 54. 6 Jose Pablo Basterrechea, "Address of the Superior General to the Regional Convoca-tion of the Brothers of the Christian Schools" (Mgraga, California: Regional Convoca-tion, 1984). 7 James Wallis, The Call to Conversion (S~in Francisco! Harper and Row, 1981); Pedro Arrupe, "What Is the Greatest Service Which Religious Can Give Today to Human-ity and to the Church?" Donum Dei No. 24 (1978). 8 John Kavanaugh, Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, ~981). 9 DeLaSalle, p. 56. ' Appropriate Formation Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C. Brother O'Reilly, Director:of Formation for his community in Liberia, previously wrote "Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis"r (November/Dece,mbe.r issue, 1985). His address is: Christian Brothers; P.O. Box 297; Monrovia, Liberia; West Africa. When Captain Smith of the Titanic uttered the words, "The only ice around here, Sparks, is in my drink," he was displaying a characteristic common to most of us--skepticism. When many American and European religious hear of the great vocation boom within the develoPing churches and look at their own decreasing numbers and formation houses being turned into retreat centers and homes for the aged, they skeptically wonder: "How it is that so many young Africans and others are being attracted to living a life of community, prayer and service as religious?" When I returned to Liberia in 1982 after an absence of eight years, we still had no local brothers in our West African communities~espite erect-ing a novitiate building in 1975 and having made it clear toall and sundry that we were keen to welcome local candidates into our communities. As I write this article in 1987 we have, to date, eighteen Wes~ African mem-bers and a thriving candidacy.program. We have just missioned our first West African brothers to set up a new community to work among leprosy sufferers, and fully expect to open another community elsewhere in either Liberia or Sierra Leone during the coming year. It seems fantastic to many in our congregation that in the space of five years we have more novices and junior professed religious in West Africa than in many of our other pro-vinces combined together. When people ask me how it is, I usually tell 336 Appropridte Formation / 337 them that it is the Holy Spirit's work--and something called "Appropri-ate Formation." This article will be concerned with defining the meaning of a religious formation that is~rooted within a developing-church situation. I will be using categories and concepts normally associated with the development of appropriate technology in developing economic and social orders, and .'using them to map out a theory of religious formation that is ,appropri-ate" to this new wave of young religious that congregations throughout the developing world are beginning to welcome into their ranks. In the second part of the article I will outline some of the important issues that our own young West Africah members felt should be on the agenda for an appro-priate formation. Appropriate Formation: A Definition Appropriate formation involves the application of the principles of reli-gious life to concrete local situations. This means developing ways or "technologies" which can be defined as "replicable methods for solving community problems and developing the capacities of communities to achieve their own goals" (S.B. Fawcett, R.M. Mathews and R.K. Fletcher, "Some Promising Dimensions for Behavioral Community Tech-nology," Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis, 13, 1980). These authors propose that seven dimensions of a technology must be considered to ensure the appropriateness of the technology: - Effectiveness - Expense - Decentralization - Flexibility -Sustainability - Simplicity - Compatibility A new technology means anew way of.doing things for the people who use the technology or who are affected by its use. For any significant change in behavior or attitudes to persist and the technology to be effective, the rewards, satisfactions and achievements obtained have to clearly outweigh the efforts and difficulties involved. For this to happen in the area of religious formation, formators need to have a firm understanding of what are to be the intended outcomes, methods t6 be used, content to be consid-ered and evaluation procedures which will° make up their formation pro-gram. This will, of necessity, demand that'~i formator sit down with both professed members of the group a~d neophytes, and work out what real- 338 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 istic goals a formation community can set itself, what practical wfiys they can be realized, and their appropriateness evaluated at different stages of the formation program. Inexpensiveness is of'considerable importance in a context such as West Africa since cash incomes are generally low. If we expect r~ligious from such regions ,!o earn their own keep and to be credible followers of the "chaste, poor and obedient Christ" for their people, then their formation experience should~prepare them f6r this reality. The end values of religious life shouid"not be obscured by the trappings of a partiCular lifestyle that is alien to the majority of Candidates prior tO entering a religious com-munity. Decentralization means the application of technology at a local level rather than from a remote center. Local religious will need to assume full responsibility .for the living out of their commitment, and not look to over-seas generalates and provincialates for direction on every facet of their lives. They are "the people on the spot," and they need both the compe-tence and the confideqce to discern in what direction the Spirit is calling them. As far as possible, ~those in initial formation need to be shown that responsibility and accountability are intrinsic to religious life. If candidates are not willing to grow in these areas, then there is no place for them 4n a religious community. If formation technologies are not flexible there is. little chance that people will be prepared to handle the gigantic social and pastora, I devel-opments that are taking place in so many parts of the world. There has to be a clear distinction made during religious formation between the end values and the means values of religious life. The end values are not negotiable, but the means ones can be redefined in the light of new insights among the members and the needs of the Church and of society. A flex-ible dimension in religious formation will concern itself with presenting a range of options to cope with specific concerns, and will include guide-lines for Change according to the felt needs of the group in formation. A frequent concern of formation personnel is that many young reli-gious, after having passed through the novitiate, experience a painful regression to the state they were in prior to entering the community. It is as though no significant personal or spiritual development had taken place. Often the cause~of this is because the technology, or way of being a reli-gious, is not sustainable: at the local community level. They leave the novitiate with either unreal expectations of what religious life will be,, and are disillusioned with what they find to be t.he reality~ or they flounder with- 6ut ihe strong guiding hand of a r~ligious specifically missioned to help Appropriate Formation / 339 them overcome every hurdle they may encounter. A gradualist strategy is needed during formation wherein "stretch-outs" are provided so as to allow young religious to know what it means to live, pray and work in a typical community of the congregation. Here they can focus on the con-crete problems of religious life rather than on the long range goal-setting which makes up so much of the agenda of religious formation. A new technology must be simple and comprehensible enough to be understood by its potential users. Religious formators will need to acknowl-edge the "multi-path" approach when dealing with candidates coming from differing social, economic and educational and faith backgrounds. There. have to be features of a formation program that provide for acceler-ation when goals are realized and values interiorized, and a locking-in system that prevents regression from gains obtained. Finally, any new technology must fit into the community or society at large. To be compatible with the surroundings from which the candidates are comirig and in which their religious formation is taking place, the new technology must be seen to work. It must be seen to provide religious men and women whose lifestyle is clearly valued and appreciated by the immedi-ate society. If religious life is seen as wholly meaningless by those around, it is difficult to see how an individual can commit himself or herself unreservedly to such a vocation. Appropriate Formation: An Agenda I want to turn now to a consideration of what are some of the problems facing young local religious. I shall outline these issues within the frame-work of the three end values of religious life---community, prayer and ser-vice. To identify what are the problems our young religious will have to confront is the necessary first step towards devising a formation program appropriate to the people and situation in which religious life will find a new beginning. Community. ~ The issue of where a person's primary loyalties lie---either with one's extended family or with the community--is a source of tension for most local religious at one stage.or another of their lives. Appropriate formation must tackle this area sensitively but una.mbiguously: "No, a community cannot take on the responsibility of supporting and educating younger mem-bers of a local religious' family; but yes, a community will help in a crisis or an emergency as best as it can." Formal membership in a religious.con-gregation must broaden a person's "in" group to .those past and living mem-bers of the congregation around the world. If the extended family holds 340 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 the central loyalties of the young religious, then eventually a clash will come and he or she will be the casualty. It is hard to be a citizen of two worlds! Unless serious efforts are made to tackle the issue where a person's identity and sense of belonging lie, feelings of inauthenticity may arise within the young religious, and eventually may lead to their departure from the community. Likewise, with the question of tribal or national bonds, while encour-aging people to be proud of their heritage, those distinctions which blur the call of a person to see everyone as his or her brother or sister in Christ, must be faced up to during the period of initial formation. Tribalism, mean-ing the preference for one's own tribe over national interests, is a growing political concern in post-colonial Africa. Local religious can easily fall into a tribal mentality with disastrous consequences for community living. Going against tribalism is no easy thing and young religious need to be under no illusion that to have respect for each person's tribal identity is one of the primary signs that they can give to their people of the inclusive nature of the kingdom of God. Many of those who apply for membership in religious communities in developing countries carry with them stories of how they had to struggle against all odds to complete their schooling and perhaps to start in a career. This experience of being a "survivor," when so many of their friends gave up along the road, can lead some to evaluate any or every facet of religious life in terms of what they can get materially from the community--instead of what they can give to the community. Every formation community fairly exudes the idea that there are those already in the community (i,e., they own the house, the bedsheets and the marmalade), and those who wish to join the community. This is a classic "donor-receiver" situation. Usually it takes years for a religious to believe that the house and community pos-sessions are not "theirs" but "ours." In a developing-country situation this "donor-receiver" mentality can persist far longer when the professed religious are white and those joining the community are black. Obviously, religious life means old and young, black and white--or ~,hatever other contrasts a person cares to make between people--all attempting to live in harmony together. This is our" witness of the kingdom and the means by which we build up the Church. For that to happen, there has to be a basic leveling among the members of the community. Formators need to devise ways in which local religious can "own," not only the community goods, but the core values at the heart of the community. Prayer Appropriate Formation / 341 . Much of religious formation, in the spiritual domain, is concerned with deepening a person's,capacity for, and appreciation of, a "grace-full" rela-tionship with Jesus. This is a task for religious formators worldwide, but in my experience, .those working in countries with a strong animist tradi-tion have added challenges. The first one is helping young religious see that prayer, to be real; must be a constant part 6f a person's life. Just praying when the community decides to pray in common is not enough. When prayer is simply a duty expected of one by others, then the shallowness of a person's prayer~life will be revealed when serious vocational problems arise and a ~oung~reli-gious doesn't really believe that there is a God who is ready to love, under~ stand and forgive. In my experience of countries with a strong animist tra-dition, God is more than likely to be feared rather than loved, .and for-giveness is at a price. Coupled to the above challenge is that of helping local candidates real-ize that the form and structure of prayer are not ends in themselves. They are only aids to developing an'awareness of God in ~ne's life and in encour-aging prayerful living. The tendency in the animist tradition to overstress the ma,.gical nature of prayer can lead to a marked separation ~of the sacred and the secular, andah inability to make the "stuff Of daily living" the quarry for one's own prayer. A third challenge I believe formators can have is helping young reli-gious recognize that their own people's spiritual heritage can provide them with stepping stones to discover and value the face of God in Jesus. They will need a strong, personal faith to be able to discern authentically the pres- 6nee of God in their people's faith history, and a vision of the Church as embracing all peoples and cultures, as acknowledging and respecting the I,ocal character of each people. Service In many countries where the Church is newly rooted, much is made of a person's final profession or ordination--I suppose because local reli-gious and priests are still a rarity in many places. Sadly, perhaps, not a few young men and women leave the altar as newly professed or ordained with a very exalted view of themselves. They go on mission with a mentality, more suited to starting a career than a vocation. We need a model of the "servant" Church as never before in devel-oping countries. Otherwise the cr6"dibility and respect which the first mis-sionaries earned from the people will vanish. If there are not local men and women prepared to minister with total conviction and compassion to the marginalized of their society,, then things do not look well for the future. 349 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 I believe that there are people amongst those seeking to follow "the chaste, poor and obedient Christ" who have the dynamism and selflessness of those first missionaries. But they will need every encouragement and incen-tive to rise above merely identifying with the better educated and affluent members of their society. Appropriate format.ion will need to stress the distinction between a career and a vocation, and to present clearly and simpl~, the model of Jesus who had "nowhere to lay his head," who could welcome all and who was wholly caught up in doing the will of his Father. Conclusion Thi~ article has concerned itself with indicating dimensions of a for-mation program that must be appropriate to the persons it serves and to the so(iety in which such people will minister. I have pointgd out some of the priorities I feel that formators involved in develpping-church situations need to take note of and to put.on their formation agenda. To those who are skep-tical concerning the future of religious life in the. world today, let me end wiih a quote from Samuel Beckett: "He sat with me in the dark room of my doubt and lit a candle." During my five years of close involvement with religious forma_tion in West Africa, I have seen that candle glowing, and my hope is that religious throughout the world will, like me, grow in certainty by its light. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. Growth Producing Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation Donna Marie Wilhelm, S.N.D. Since writing this article, Sister Donna Marie has been transferred to Sarasota's Cardi-nal Mooney High School where she now teaches and is local superior. She may be addressed at 4004 Fruitville Road; Sarasota, Florida 33582. Liberal, conservative; masculine, feminine; introvert, extrovert; Ignatian, Franciscan; adjectives--"labels" that describe experience, that are valu-able as long as they do not become restrictive in their attempt to'describe, as long as they do not bind rather than free us for growth and understand-ing. These labels are set up in tension as opposites, or perhaps better as complements. Their value is not so much in setting persons in opposition to one another, but in directing them to wholeness of vision. They provide for an expression of tension that can lead to healthy growth and a more com-plete outlook on life and experience. I believe that formation, too, is about tension--healthy tension--that is inherent in the process itself. Tensions exist throughout the period of initial formation with varying emphases and with differing intensities. This is particularly true in the pre-novitiate period. One of the dangers in the beginning of the formation process is that some individuals, once they begin to live in a community setting, may live out of a sense of finality that says, "I have made my decision. This is where God wants me. Just tell me what to do in order to be a good Sister of Notre Dame (or Franciscan or whatever) and I will do it." A stance like this needs to be explored gently, and then laid to rest as a false and harmful presupposi-tion. 343 344 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 I believe that it is more accurate to define vocation as a verb rather than a noun, as E.F. O'Doherty has suggested in The Psychology of Vocation. A vocation is not something that I "have"; it is a possibility for me to "become." Implied in this kind of definition is the reality that following a particular vocation involves a repeated act of choosing. In the initial stages it involves decision-making that then becomes the raw material for an ongoing discernment process. For the remainder of this article I want to describe three of the tensions that I think are common to those who are new to the religious process: those in pre-novitiate. Since formation does not happen in a vacuum but in the context of community, community members and attitudes among members are very important in helping the individuals in formation to negotiate these tensions successfully. Child/Adult. Jean Vanier has said, "When people come into a community they are usually in a state where you can ask anything at all of them . People coming into community have a child's grace.''1 This stateof becoming "like a child" again i~ a result of a variety of factors: the initial joy and enthusiasm of any beginner; the "rush" that comes with "finally arriv-ing"; but perhaps most importantly there is a tremendous loss of the famil-iar for the newcomer. o Ray B(adbury in his book Dandelion Wine tells a story that points to the importance of the familiar, of the everyday. It is a story of two y, oung boys and their summer discoveries through everydayness. Doug, the older boy, decides to keep a record bf the summer's adventures in a yellow nickel tablet. In explaining his plan to his brother Tom, Doug begins: I'm going to divide the su.mmer up in two parts. First part of this tablet is titled: Rites and Ceremonies. The first root beer pop of the year. The first time of the year running barefoot in the grass. First time of the year almOst drowning in the lake. First watermelon. First mosquito. First har-vest of dandelions. Those are the things we do over and over and over and never think. Now here in the back, like I said, is Discoveries and Revelations or maybe Illuminations, that's a swell word, or Intuitions, okay? 'in other words you do an o!d familiar thing, like bottling dandelion wine and" you put that under Rites and Ceremonies. And then you think about it, and what you thinkr crazy or not, you put under Discoveries and Revelatiohs. Here's wha~ I got on the wine: Every time you bottle it, yo~u got .a whole chunk of 1928 put away, safe.2 Wh~t Bradbury recounts is in many ways similar t~ the dynamic of the familiar in our lives, the movement from the experience of the world.,gs Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation / 345 alien, through a sense of well-being, to an awakening to "otherness." Our first experience as children, or later in life as beginners in a religious for-mation process, is one of awe, dread, an overwhelming helplessness and powerlessness. As children, this sense of, anxiety is usually answered by our parents who provide a caring atmosphere in which we can experience some security. We need this sense of security and familiarity with persons, things and event~ in order to function in this world. This movement from helplessness'and powerlessness to security and familiarity is a "child to adult" movement. Being "at home" in our world is also essential to our spirituality. We need to be grounded in the familiar and the ordinary, since it is that grounding that gi'ves us a feeling of belonging, at homeness, security. And these experiences point to a deeper ground, ou~ groundedness in God in faith, hrpe and love. Our faith in God must be incarnated in our experience, and this happens as we reflect 6n the everyday occurrences where God touches our lives. If what is familiar and "everyday" in our lives is so important to our adulthood, to our functioning and to our grounding in God, then losing our"' sense of "at homeness" in our day-to-day living is a significant loss. It is this loss that brings us back to being like a child again, a child in an alien world. What takes place at the onset of the pre-novitiate is e~actly that: the loss of the familiar. "Familiar" in this context may mean different things for different individuals but for most it includes job, apartment, car, friends and family and a certain degree of indepepdence ih action and in decision-making. Loss of the familiar is often accompanied by a feeling that "I'm out of control," a feeling of helplessness in my new environment. In many candidates this is expressed by a loss of ability to do something as simple as balancing time, and that results in lost hours of sleep, cutting down on leisure and exercise to make up, loss of efficienqy on the job, in ministry or at school. Moving into a new place with new people requires a tremendous adjust-ment. It involves~a period of trying to determine what "the rules" are in this group .with whom I have chosen to live. It is a time of grieving for many losses. And it is a time that is often ac~companied by regression, the return to patterns of behavior that helped us to cope with an alien world when we were children. One of the problems in c?mmunity is that this regressive behavior can be very disconcerting to the "old-timers" unless they are aware of what is happening. It is a crucial period when the com-munity must offer support and understanding, but must carefully guard against giving a formula for a new identity too soon. As in any loss, the loss of what is familiar can break the newcomer open to another necessary 346 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 element of life,- the transcendent. The pain of this experience can be an invitation to the candidate to begin the process of lived discernment, of choosing his or her vocation in day-to-day life. A further difficulty.in community can occur if the purpose of this time of formation is not well understood. The heart of the pre-novitiate is built on the call to holiness that all Christians share. That call must be explored and deepened through gradual growth in self-awareness and developing nat~ ural gifts, in dealing with past losses and hurts, in deepening prayer and in learning the dynamics of community living. "Our candidates are older women," some community members say, "women with education, with work and life experience. Why do they need to spend a year or two in a pre-noyitiate process?" It is a very common mistake to look at a person's age, work experience, social skills and make a statement like "Why can't she just begin as a novice?" It is so important not to equate age absolutely with any given level of human maturity, of experience, of spiritual or pro-fessional development. Accompanying women, especially older ones has ¯ only confirmed my belief that each individual is composed of many com-plex variables, and the time spent at the beginning of the formation pro-cess is not "lost" but is essential to provide a confirmation of gifts, an accurate assessment of needs and limitations, and then time to allow the individual to begin to build a foundation for continuing discernment for the future. This is the purpose of the pre-novitiate as it is described in Essen-tial Eletnents. It is the period "in which the genuineness of the call is iden-tified as far as possible . -3 It is a time of growth, not stagnation. Being In/Being Out Another significant area of tension for those in the pre-novitiate pro-cess is the tension that is created by not being a "real" member of the congregation, by hot even, strictly speaking, being a "religious," while living in a house of the congregation with its real members, more or less according to their manner of life. One of the major emphases in the doc-uments dealing with formation that have been published since Vatican Coun-cil II is that of the concept of gradual transition, that is, the idea that the mok, ement from the previous lifestyle to the life of religious consecration should be a gradual, not an abrupt one, and that it involve a time of transi-tion rather than of drastic or dramatic change. Congregations have made many and varied efforts in this diri~ction. They have developed vocation-awareness activities that reach into the elementary schools, retreats and overnight experiences for high school stu-dents, and live-in programs for those who hre seriously considering the option of religious life.-'Many congregations have begun nonresident affil- Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation 347 iate programs to give interested men or women an even closer experience of their life. These efforts are all for the sake of gradual acquaintance and transi-tion, find they are invaluable. They need to be carried into the period of pre-novitiate as well. One way to accomPlish this is to establish the pre-novitiate community as an "in-between" community as Vanier cails it in his book Community and Growth. IdeallY this community will be com-posed of the candidates, the director ahd several oth,er professed members who represent different mir~istries. I am not speaking here of simply moving the candidates and director into an established local community-- even though in fact this is what may happen. The difference is that the pri-mary purpose for the existence of the "in-between" community is to pro-vide a formative environment for the candidates. Such a community pro-vides an environment which facilitates the transition of the individual from being an independent lay man or woman to being incorporated as a com-munity member, and finally to becoming a committed member of this specific community and congregation~. It must, be an environment that encourages reflective living, where acceptance is~not based on conformity. What is of primary significance at this stage is to foster human growth and a sense of responsibility towards the life, not to provide a cozy escape from decision-making or a neat set of dos and don'ts. Such a community will provide a rhythm of life that is the "bare bones" for continued discernment; a rhythm of reflection, silence and prayer. It must give the time for candidates to participate in courses or group direction that con-tinue, to develop knowledge of the faith and of the spiritual life. Finally it will provide opportunities for some type of initial exposure to the ministries of the congregation and for some connectedness with the local Church. The individual who +omes to a pre-novitiate experience has made a definite decision and commitment, and so has the congregation ~vhich he or she has joined. Being "in-b~tween" does not water down that commit-ment or mitigate the decision. Rather it gives the space f~)r the candidate" to do two very important things: t~) learn hoW to live in community arid to adjust significant relationships to his or her new lifestyle. These issues are important ones in becoming a member of any community, not just a religious congregation. Outlining the elements in "learning" community is simple. Living them is a tremendous challenge. At the very beginning, a knowledge of the stages in the growth Of a community is essential, as is an awareness of some basic dynamics that can occur. I have found the material provided 3till / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 by Hammet and Soefield in their book Inside Christian Community extremely helpful in these areas. Communication and dealingwith conflict are two other key issues. I believe that the most difficult of any of these is conflict management. This is true not only for the newcomer, but for most of us who have lived in religious communities for years. Each time I am involved in a workshop on this topic with our candidates I am aware of how much more I must learn. It is so iinportant to be patient, firm, and to provide supportive gui.d:~ ance in this area. Above all, experienced community members must not fall into the trap of becoming the rescuer between two candidates or a can-didate and another community member who may have taken on the roles of victim ancl persecutor in regard to each other. Being willing to sit down and role-play situations or conversations is a valuable tool here. In sum, the skills of conflict management must be practiced, our limitations and weakness shared, if growth is to occur. ~ The "in-between" climate of the pre-novitiate community also pro-vides the space necessary for the candidates to adjust significant relation-ships in their lives. This is particularly important for candidates who come with a broad base of family, friends and work-related contacts. It takes time and the freedom to move in and out of community to make the decisions necessary to maintain some relationships, to let go of others', and to invest in new ones within the community or in a ministerial setting. This is no small task because it involves community members who can allow for free-dom but also who, through modeling and guidance, can gradually intro-duce the candidates into the obligations and time commitments that com-munity life can and must of its very nature demand. Providing opportunities for the community to get to know the family and friends of the candidate can be extremely helpful and enrichi.n.g for both. Visiting, inviting family members to share in celebrations, and other casual contacts are,just a few ways to do this. Again, grow,th must be suppprted by u,nderstanding, hon-esty, openness in dialogue, and willingness to search together for the best decisions. In these areas, too, we are dealing with choosing a lifestyle, with making decisions that are more and more--or less and less-~consonant with one particular life direction rather than another. Fitting In/Impacting For Change A newcomer to any group can be expected to ask the question, "What d6,.I have to do to fit in here, to be one of you?" He or she may also say "I have talents, gifts, a vision to offer that may call for some changes in our group. Will they be acce.pted?" The tension between the desire to "fit in" and the need to influence toward change is born in these questions. Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation / 349 There is, I believe, a very real sense in which a candidate in any religious congregation must "fit" if not "fit in." In an attempt to be "liberated" and "open" to everything, I think we sometimes try to deny the truth of that. Our congregations do .have living traditions, a heritage that must be experienced and to some extent learned. We each have a unique identity; whether we have articulated that or not, that is our founding gift, and it is that which mediates the Gospel to the members of our institute. The for-mation process takes place according to this founding gift.4 The community at large is very important in this aspect of the process. The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults in number four states: "The initia-tion of catechumens takes place, step by step, in the midst of the com-munity of the faithful. Together with the catechumens, the faithful reflect upon the value of the Paschal Mystery, renew their own conversion, and by their example lead the catechumens to obey the Holy Spirit more gener-ously." Since the call to religious consecration is a call to the deepening of one's baptismal consecration, an analogy can be drawn between the pre-novitiate and the catechumenate, between the involvement of the faithful and the indispensable involvement of the religious community in which the candidates seek membership. Members of religious communities see in their initiates not only a renewal of their individual covenant relationship with the Lord, but also the hopeof the continued life of the congregation. Rejoicing in and affirming new members in their call is essential. It draws the candidates into a large~',.sense of belonging, gives them a sense of his-tory and furnishes them with many more individual touchstones of unique charism, as well as an experience of charism in the corporate sense. For those who are already part of the community at large there is not only the opportunity but the responsibility to participate in "handing on" the congregation's traditions, and of being a "welcoming presence." "Welcoming presence" says, "this is how we are." At times of celebra-tion, community prayer and working together, it is a presence that says, "This is the diversity of ways in which we express our common charism. For us, Sisters of Notre Dame, our charism includes a simplicity of life and an experience of the Father's provident care in our lives that is expressed in the phrase 'How good is the good God!'. These elements of our shared vision are concretized in a special family spirit, and in our efforts to min-ister to the poor, to bring hope to them through evangelization and catechesis. You are welcome to be with us and to bring your uniqueness to our vision." 350 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 Once again it is absolutely necessary, though, that the "welcoming" not become a welcome that demands immediate conformity. The com-munity must understand the "in-between" nature of pre-novitiate and the primacy during this time of confirming the choice of this particular lifestyle within the basic call to holiness. "Welcoming" also includes welcoming gifts and initiative. When I enter into a relationship with hnother, I invite the possibility of being changed by that encounter. I trust that the new vision that we come to share together is good and growth producing. This is true of the new members in community. "Candidate" is not necessarily equal to "'young" and "inexperienced." We need to remind ourselves of that at times, and let our welcome include the invitation to enter into our life in a meaningful and effective way. 'Practically, this means including our candidates in tl~6 significant events of our community: meetings, renewals, ;'futuring" ses-sions, preparations for chapter and the like. It means valuing their gifts and expertise, and accepting these when they are offered in service of the com-munity and of the Church. These men and women of today can help us in our struggle to find ways to incarnate our charism into our life and ministry and to meet the needs of our times in a realistic way~ There is a very healthy discomfort that we experience when we feel pulled in two directions, a discomfort that moves us to action, to choice. The tensions experienced by newcomers to religious life are opportunities for self-awareness, for growth and for authentic discernment of a lifetime commitment. Being aware that they exist, dealing with them in realistic ways and' soliciting the understanding and support of community members in helping candidates to live and grow with them can only be an invalu-able asset to any formation process. .~ . NOTES ~ Jean Vanier, Community and Growth: Our Pilgrimage Together (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 5 I. 2 Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine (New York: Bantam Books, 1976), p. 27. 3 Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Ltfe, n. 48. 4 lbid, n. 44. Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Well known to our readers, Father Arbuckle is the prime mover and designer of the summer workshop, sponsored Dy R~viEw Eon R~L~¢~OUS and St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies, entitled: "Refounding Religious Life from Within: Strategies for Leadership." His previous article, "Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1987. Father Arbuckle's.permanent mailing address is: East Asian Pastoral Institute; P.O. Box 1815; Manila 2800; Philippines. Supra-nationalism is the ability and the willingness of individuals or groups to strive to id.entify with cultures and needs beyond the frontiers of their own country in ways that are both critical and non-exclusive. (Multiculturalism, on the other hand, is the same ability and willingness, but directed to other cultures within the boundaries of one's own country.) This identification with cultures, be it noted, is not blind or uncritical. The weaknesses, as well as the strengths, of cultures are recognized. Moreover, this identification is not exclusive. That is, supranationalists are open to still other cultures beyond those with which they are immediately con-cerned. Christ calls his followers to a basic supranationalism, They are them-selves to be reconciled with the Father through love, and they are to express this reconciliation in their relations with other peoples and cultures. With-out, this love of the Father, a gift of the Holy Spirit, the reconciling rela-tionship with those around us cannot be sustained. Selfishness and the desire for power over others will overcome us. Ultimately we are encour-aged in this struggle to be reconciled wi(h the Father and with one another 351 352 / Review for Religious, May~June, 1987 by the hope of the "new heavens arid a new earth" in the fullness of God's kingdom yet to come, "where; accordihg t6 his promise, the justice of God will reside" (2 P 3:13). " The world is fractured by ideological conflicts, pathoio~ical forms of nationalism and intercultural tensions. It is a world "groaning in travail" (Rm 8:22), desperately in need of reconciliation across and within national frontiers. ~ Inasmuch as many religious orders are stamped with an interna-tional character, the Church rightly expects of them bold evangelical initiatives in response to today's critical need for supranationalism.2 But are religious orders responding to this challenge to provide lead-ership not just to the Church but also to the world itself?. Or have some congregations settled into a comfortable, introverted type of "ecclesiastical nationalism"? What conditions are necessary for religious congregations to express in spirit and action a much-needed supranationalism? This article is an attempt to respond to such questions. I will - show how prejudice obstructs sup.ranationalism; - explain the New Testament call to supranationalism; - reflect on how religious orders have in the past responded to the challenge of supranationalism; - construct two models which religious institutes can use to mea-sure their own response to the challenge of supranationalism; - reflect on the role of ongoing conversion as an essential require-ment for supranationalism. Excessive Nationalism: the Obstacle to Supranationalism Nationalism is a complex word to define. It expresses a form of group consciousness, that is, consciousness of membership in a nation. In this lim-ited sense, nationalism is good. It gives people a sense of meaning and iden-tity, a respect for their past, the energy to work together for the common good. When, however, people begin to believe that they are superior to other peoples and cultures, then nationalism becomes excessive. People become unable to look beyond (supra) their national borders to learn from the values and experiences of other cultures. At the heart of excessive nationalism is cultural prejudice. Prejudice is an "attitude towards a person who belongs to a group simply because he belongs to that group and is therefore presumed to have the qualities ascribed to that group." 3 In brief, prejudice involves a predisposition toward a group of people that is not derived from adequate information. There are two aspects to cultural prejudice to be noted. Firstly, there is the meaning aspect or stereotype. A stereotype is ,a preformed image or picture or judgment about people, whether favorable or unfavorable: "The Beyond Frontiers / 353 Irish are prone to excessive use of alcohol." "All Italians sing beau-tifully." The second aspect is the feeling dimension. The prejudiced person sees only what he or she wants to see, even to the point of seeing things that are not there at all. The causes of prejudice are complex and many: fear of people who are different, a desire to exploit, a need to bolster one's personal and cultural self-esteem .4 Culturally prejudiced people can show excessive nationalism in one of two major ways. Firstly, they can seek to impose on "decadent and imper-fect cultures" their own "perfect" values and customs, coming to treat subject people like children---or worse. Secondly, a particularly insidious form of cultural prejudice is cultural romanticism. The foreign culture with which the individual wishes to identify is considered "perfect," and his or her culture-of-origin is thought to be thoroughly decadent. Often the romantic will seek to freeze the new culture in time, thinking any change will undermine its "perfection." This type of romanticism is alive and well, especially among foreigners working in Third World countries. Romanticism is also apt to show itself in overidentifying with nation-alist movements in those cultures or nations. Here, would-be agenis for change sometimes lose all sense of objectivity; they fail to see the violence and tragic effects of their overinvolvement in nationalist movements. Some-times more nationalistic than the locals themselves, they become severely condemnatory of the values and customs of their own cultures-of-origin.5 It is not easy for a person to become truly supranationalist. Supranationalism can only result from the ongoing personal struggle for truth and for the desire to respond to this truth. First one must face the truth about oneself: we are all prejudiced in one way or another. Self-knowledge is always extremely difficult. It also happens to be highly inconvenient, because as a result of a better knowledge of myself and my prejudices, I may have to do something about it. Human beings are highly skilled in avoiding truths about themselves; we are accomplished fugitives from our-selves. If I have the courage to discover my cultural prejudices, I then need a strong motivation to put them aside. It is much easier and simpler to ignore my prejudices! Supranationalism and the New Testament The heart of the Christian .message is that God "has reconciled us to himself through Christ" (2 Co 5:18) and his peace, a peace that can never come from mere human action (Jn 15:27), that we struggle to share with our brothers and sisters no matter what culture or nation they belong to (Rm :354 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 12:18). This peace, the fruit of love in the Spirit, motivates us to respect cultural differences and the just aspirations of people; it shows itself in "patience, generosity., mildness" (Ga 5:22f). It includes an openness to learn how God has worked in the lives and cultures of other peoples. There will be no jealousy for their achievements nor will there be a boast-ing over the accomplishments of one's own nation or culture (ibid v. 26). There will be ~he courage to challenge people of different cultures to face obstacles, for example, personal and social sin, that hinder or prevent them from achieving reconciliation with God and with each other. Followers of Christ know that they can avoid excessive nationalism in its various forms only if they remain truly open to the .Transcendent, allowing it to influence their lives in each one's particular cultural situation, even as they await the fullness of justice and peace ~n the world to come. Not surprisingly, Jesus directly confronted the excessive nationalism of his day, urging his followers to be supranationalists. At the time of Christ, Jews looked on Samaritans as uncouth, stupid, heretical. And Samaritans had similar views of their Jewish neighbors. As Scripture com-mentator, J. McKenzie, points out: "There was no deeper break 6f human relations in the contemporary world than the feud of Jews and Samaritans, and the breadth and depth of J~sus' doctrine of love could demand no greater act of a Jew than to accept a Samaritan as a brother."6 Those who heard Jesus speak would have been left in no doubt about the meaning of what we now call the Good Samaritan incident. The Samaritan is manifestly a supranationalist! Jesus' listeners are stunned to heai- him say "Go, do likewise!" (Lk 10:37). In a second story, this time a personal event in Christ's life, Jesus is an "international traveler" and exemplifies his own supranationalism in his relations with the Samaritan woman at the well (Jn 4). Not only does the woman experience Christian politeness for the first time, but she is told that eternal salvation is open to her through the love of the Father. Of all the early followers of Christ, Paul stands out as the model of supranationalism in evangelization. He had been a thoroughly fanatical sup-porter of Jewish culture, a rabid nationa~list, but underwent a dramatic theological and attitudinal transformation once he began to preach the Gospel in Gentile cultures. In Paul's epistles we see depicted the attitudes that must govern the evangelizeras he or she relates to different cultures. Firstly, the evangelizer must identi.fy as far as possible with the cultures of people to be e.vangelized: "I became like a Jew to the Jews in order to win the Jews. To those bound by the law I became like one who is bound (although in Beyond Frontiers / 355 fact Iam not bound by it), that I might win those bound by the law . I have made myself all things to all men in order to save at least some of them" (1 Co 9:20, 22). Secondly, identification with the aspirations of peo-pies of different cultures should be critical (Ga 5:1-6). Thirdly, the Gospel message is to be preached in its fullness; our struggles for justice and peace in this world are but the seed and the beginning of the kingdom of God here below; it will find its completion at the end of time with the resurrection of the dead and the renewal of the whole of creation (Rm 8:1 1- 21).7 Religious Life: Internationalism and Supranationalism .~ On one occasion, while doing research in a Third World village, I over-heard villagers speaking about the "Backhome Man." Each time they used the expression there would be hoots of laughter. I discovered the man who delighted them was an evangelizer from another coun.try who began sentences with the expression "Back home . . ." so often that the people nicknamed him the "Backhome Man." The evangelizer had the gift of internationalism, that is, he was prepared to live in someone else's coun-try, b.ut apparently he was slow to learn anything from the host culture. He lacked the gift of supranationalism; he was willing to give (on his terms), but not to receive. Our "Backhome Man" sadly lived a stunted religious life as well. For the true religious dedicates himself or herself totally to God, the Supreme Love. In a new and special way the religious makes himself or herself entirely over to God, to serve and honor him in and through the Church.8 The religious should seek to be an exemplary disciple of the Lord, to be one with him in his mission to the world.,The object of his. mission is the person "whole and entire, body and soul,',9 involving what we call today integral salvation. Supranationalism (and mu!ticuituralism) opens the way to this concern, for it relates to the well-being of both body and soul of the peoples of this world in their concrete reality. For this reason, because of their radical commitment to the Lord and to his Church, religious must be in the forefront in fosteringthe virtues of human solidarity and interdependence. Two questions are~to be asked: have religious congregations in the past fostered supranationalism? How are they responding to this challenge today? I will take each question in turn. Religious Life and Supranationalism before Vatican II There is no doubt about the involvement of religious congregations in internationalism over the three hundred years prior to Vatican II. Religious, 356 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 very often from newly formed congregations, moved into recently discov-ered countries, frequently braving, atrocious physical conditions, in order to spread the faith.~ While many individual religious aspired to identify with the cultures of the people they were evangelizing, rarely was the work of religious congregations themselves marked by the spirit of supranationalism within those countries which we now call the Third World. At the risk of grave oversimplification I will explain briefly why it was difficult for religious to express supranationalism, in evangelization. ~0 From the fifteenth century onwards, a marked inflexibility in the Church's rela-tionship with cultures, especially beyond Europe, developed. This inflexibility affected the missionary policies of religious Congregations. Prior to this period, most especially in the early centuries,o.the Church often related to cultures in remarkably flexible ways. Pope Gregory the Great's directive to Augustine of Canterbury 'in the year 601 about not destroying the temples of the gods, and,the need to place the relics of the saints in those same temples is rather symbolic of the flexibility of the period. ~ This openness, however, was not to continue; The Church became more and more culturally "Euro-centric" in its expression of the faith. In more modern times, as European colonial expansion developed, it was this Euro-centric Church that was to accompany it. As one commentator put it: "The missionaries--true children of their times--shared the intolerant and prejudiced views of the conquistadores on the native cultures and religions.''~2 The European Ch~'ch was to be planted in the new lands with-out change. The cultures of the people being evangelized were seen as unim-portant; priority was given to the conversion and salvation of individual souls: Rarely did missionaries see the need to understand local cultures-- or even at times to learn the local languages.13 There were vigorous, but eventually unsuccessful, reactions against this arrogant ecclesiastical/colonial European nationalism. From the Con-gregation of the Propagation of the Faith in 1622 there came a very force-ful condemnation of cultural prejudice: What could be more absurd than to carry France, Spain, or lt~l~,, or any other part of Europe into China? It is not this sort of thing you are to bring but rather the Faith, which does not reject or damage any people's rites and customs provided' they are not depraved . Let customs that prove to be depraved be uprooted more by hints and by silence., gradually without jolting. 14 People like the Capuchin Father Jerom Meroila in the Congo in the sev-enteenth century ~eriously endeavored to follow this advice. ~5 Jesuits in par-ticular, notably de Nobili and Ricci, led the movement for accommoda- Beyond Frontiers / 357 tion and adaptation with a flexibility characteristic of the early Church. 16 Tragically, these efforts to revitalize supranationalism within the Church were crushed with the rejection of the work of Ricci and his companions in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In the late nineteenth century the revival of Thomistic Aristotelianism, which encouraged people to look for what is good and of God within cul-tures, sparked off a new movement that would many decades later lead to the return of the Churcl~'s early pastoral flexibility. Euro-centric prejudice in evangelizers was condemned. 17 At the same time there developed within the Church a vigorous support for the rights of all people in regard to their culture and national identity. ~8 But it would take a long time before the pas-toral implications of these emphases would be worked out. Many evangelizers yearned to revive the apostolic approach of people like Ricci, but multiple factors made it difficult for these dreams to be realized. Thus, for instance, as long as the theQlogy of the local church remained under-developed, it would be difficult to explore fully the pastoral implications of the relationship of evangelization to culture. Terms like "accommoda-tion" or "adaptation" became common in missiology. But theologically and pastorally they connoted not an exchange between the Gospel and cul-tures, but rather a process of.choosing what local value or custom could be used to express better the meaning of the faith. The local faithful, how-ever, were not to be involved in t.his process of choice. So, while the rhetoric favored flexibility, in practice the Church remained fundamentally Euro-centric in its evangelizing aims and methods. Understandably, religious life mirrored this ongoing European empha-sis. 19 This was evident in the rigidity with which Europ.ean forms and struc-tures of religious life were uncritically exposed and planted in other cul-tures. At times local vocations were not encouraged because it was thought the people were "just not ready and mature enough" to undertake the responsibilities of religious life. Moreover, the fact that Europe and America had what was thought to be an endless supply of missionary vocations removed.a good ideal of the urgency to discover what were the practical implications of the phrase "accommodating the faith to local cul-tures~" Religious congregations continued to become dramatically international, but rarely did they become supra-national. At times the internal structuring or method of governing missionary ven~ tures further reinforced the spirit and practice of the European colonialism. For example, some congregations favored the system of attaching mission-ary endeavors directly to particular provinces in Europe and America. Invari-ably, this meant that French missionaries were isolated in one part of a Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 "mission" land, Americans in another, and so on. Hence, a "little France" or a "little America" could exist in Third World countries, with no outside challenge to such assumptions of cultural superiority. In view of all these forces, therefore, it is not surprising that indigenous forms of religious life have rarely developed in the Third World; the mode.Is remain overwhelmingly First World in design.2° Reiigious Life and Supranationalism after Vatican II With Vatican II, and with subsequent reflection, religious life has been challenged to'its very roots by a revitalized theology of evangelization and of the local church. The relationship that should e~ist between the Gospel and cultures has been clarified. Evangelization is to be a "living exchange between the Church and the diverse cultures of people:''2t The Church, which ~s itself a culture, must be prepared, to chahge and develop new insights into how the Gospel is to be preached through a process of exchange and dialogue with the people being evangelized. This exchange process is what is now called inculturation. The expressions accommodation and adaptation do not quite convey this emphasis on exchange. Rather they imply that the Church gives to cul-tures, but does not receive. As historical expressions they were found to be dated; hence, the new word inculturation was developed in order to high-light the importance of exchange.2z Evangelization is not to be directed to the soul alone, but to the person--"whole and entire, body and soul.''23 "What mhtters," declares Paul VI, "is to evangelize man's culture and cultures [not in a purely decorative way, as it were, by applying a thin veneer, but in a vital way, in depth and right to their very roots].''z4 The search for justice in this world is not something secondary to evangelization, but it is a constituent part of the mission of the Church.25 However, as was pointed out above, the Gospel, and therefore evangelization, can never be exclusively identified with this or that culture, or with the pursuit of justice in this world alone. Evangelization must include the "prophetic proclamation of a hereafter, man's profound and definitive calling, in both continuity and discontinuity with the present sit-uation: beyond time and history, beyond the transient reality of this world ¯ . . beyond man himself, whose true destiny is not restricted to his tem-poral aspect but will be revealed in the future life.''26 In brief, evangelization must call people to a life of evangelical supranationalism. These emphases have serious ramifications for the religious who is an evangelizer. The evangelizer's task is to facilitate the dialogue between cul-ture and the Gospel. The religious must prophetically call people to this dialogue first, by the witness of his or her evangelical example, and then, Beyond Frontiers / 359 by the preaching of the Word of God. The dialogue to be aimed at is not merely intellectual. Rather it must be a faith interaction in which people are invited to interior conversion. To quote Paul VI again: "The Church evangelizes when she seeks to convert, solely through ttie divine power of the Message she proclaims, both the personal and collective consciences of people, the activities in which they engage, and the lives and concrete milieus which are theirs."zv Conversion is not brought about through author-itarian dictation, nor is it achieved through various forms of cultural romanticism. The religious, who in his orher zeal for :social justice overidentifies with nationalism or the protest movements of people against oppression cannot prophetically proclaim that "man's profound and definitive calling . . . [is] beyond time and history, beyond the transient reality of this world." Such a religious falls victim to the insidious power of cultural romanticism. Especially in parts of the Third World in which there is so much oppres-sion by the rich over the poor, massive injustices and corruption, the con-cerned religious is severely tempted to fall into a form of romanticism. Paulo Freire, the brilliant South American educator., has warned people to avoid the trap of romanticism. In order to remain objective and helpful to the oppressed, those who would be change-agents must, he says, undergo a profound rebirth. They must rise above the desire to overcome oppressors through the use of the same force that they used to subjugate the poor.28 The evangelizer, too, must at all times maintain the objectivity that is necessary to proclaim the fullness of the Gospel message with its power for salvation. St. Paul reminds us: "It was for liberty that Christ freed us. So stand firm, and do not take on.yourselves the yoke of slavery a second time" (Ga. 5:1). If the temptation in the past was for evangelizers to fall into the trap of Euro-centric cultural evangelization, then today's special temptation is to become slaves for "a second time" through cultural romanticism. Both forms of slavery obstruct our prophetic freedom. Religious specially should commit themselves to fulfill St. Paul's call for Christians to be ambassadors of reconciliation (2 Co 5:20). If religious overidentify with political parties, pressure groups or nationalist move-ments in the name for social justice, they jeopardize their prophetic role as reconcilers in Christ of all peoples--the oppressed and the oppressors. The chance to witness to the transcendent love of the Father for all is in danger. For example, if I as a religious join a political party, I become inevitably cut off in various ways from other sectors of society I seek to evangelize. I cease to be free to act credibly as an ambassador of reconcil-iation between all groups within that society. This fact helps to explain 360 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 John Paul II's insistence that politics should normally be left to lay people. In his address to priests in San Salvador (March 6, 1983) he said: "Remem-ber, my dear brothers, that--as I said to the priests and religious in Mexico~you~are hOtsocial directors, political leaders, or officials of a tem-poral power . " Religious are rather to foster among the laity a com-mitment to witness to the Gospel in the secular world as directors, leaders and officials. Though excessive nationalism is much less a temptation to evangelizers in the First World than in the Third, nonetheless these can still easily fall into other forms of cultural romanticism. For example, religious may become so involved in maintenance work in dioceses that they forget their prophetic and innovative role. Or, in their zeal to solve social problems, religious may turn to secular methods and values alone, ignoring or downgrading the supernational importance. We come to the second question: Are religious congregations respond-ing to the challenge given them by the Church today? Only through a process of discernment and reflection can each congre-gation. respond to this question. However, in order to aid this process I will offer two extreme polar models of religious congregations. These models can help religious to measure their own behavior and that of their institutes. It would be rare indeed if any particular congregation perfectly fitte~l either of ,the models described. Models in anthropological analysis are simple, abstract representations of human~' experience and interactions which are often highly complex in real life. Models are constructed~ to he!p under-standing, and to do so they emphasize major themes or characteristics and overlook details. It is up to the reader or researcher to modify, refine-~or even reject--models in light of his or her experience. Model 1: Internationalism/Faint Supranationalism ~ Anthropologists have discovered a type of society that is organized on the basis of segmentation.29 The society is divided up into segments for a variety of reasons, but these segments are not permanently divided, since they are united at other levels to form new and more inclusive segments when certain common needs require this. Total unity is very fragile and, like all levels of unity at any stage in the society, it disintegrates once the reason for the unity disappears. In brief, there are factors within the soci-ety that encourage people to form opposing groups, but there are counterbalancing factors that draw people in these groups together at other levels. Suspicion or potential/actual conflict or feuds divide the segments Beyond Frontiers / 361 Figure 1 Model I. Internationalism/Faint Supranationalism Factors Conducive to Internationalism/Supranationalism Constitutions/Mission Statements: -rhetoric favors supranationalism Commitment to supranationalism: -Weak in congregation Factors Conducive to Provincialism/Segmentation Commitment to provincial boundaries strong: Central Government: General Chapter: -symbol of unity; -rhetoric favors supranationalism General Government: -symbol of unity/internationalism -supplies bureaucratic needs, for example, dispensation --charism research Interprovincial-Regional Cooperation: -weak: last resort Apostolates: -in Third World for vocations/sur-vival. Formation: -international/interprovincial only in extreme need -inward looking vision -prophetic figures marginalized Provincial Government: -commitment to survival of prov-ince as the priority -suspicious of outside "interference," for example, General Government Apostolates: -Identification with diocesan main-tenance works -prophetic role weak -if clerical-religious, clericalism strong -weak involvement in multiculturalism Formation: -poor screening; concern for numbers -no training for multiculturalism/ supranationalism and are put aside only when common needs demand unity for survival. A feud can be defined as relations of mutual animosity among intimate groups in which a resort to violence is anticipated on both sides.3° The violence does not have to be physical; it can be verbal. Past injustices or misunderstandings are recalled to remind all concerned that the "out- 362 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 group" simply cannot be trusted to work with the "in-group." There may be an official leader in such a society, but the real power rests in the various segments, the lowest segment having the most power over its members. Oft-repeated rhetoric supportive of total unity is apt to so confuse the observer that it is thought that real unity exists, when, in fact, such is far from being the case. In Model ! of religious congregations that I am proposing the empha-sis is on internationalism, with a faint acceptance of supranationalism. A congregation of this type has the characteristics of the segmentary society or culture just described. In Figure 1, the major qualities of a segmentary congregation have been summarized. The official rhetoric is often power-fully supranationalist, as in general chapter documents or mission state-ments, but the ~-eality just as strongly contradicts this rhetoric. Internationalism exists inasmuch as some members live and work in for-eign lands, such as missionaries and general administrators. There may be a growing interest in the Third World countries inspired by the congrega-tion's rhetoric about the call to be at the service of the poor, but the really operative force would be the desire for vocations to keep the provinces and the congregation alive. The emphasis of recruitment is on numbers, not on the quality of the screening methods or the formation given. The formation remains culturally Euro-centric and paternal; the local cultures and their needs are ignored. Inculturation simply does not exist. Loyalty in the congregation imagined in this model is first and fore-most to the province to which one belongs, not to the congregation or its spirit.Whoever encourages congregational supranationalism would be thought a "traitor" to the province.3~ Cooperation exists between the prov-inces and with the general administration only when it is absolutely nec-essary- and even then fo~: the advantage primarily of the province. The gen-eral administration, for example, would be able to staff congregation-wide projects only through a process of bargaining, not dialogue. A province is prepared to release difficult personnel for such work, but not talented mem-bers, for the province's first obligation is to its own survival. "Talented people simply should not be released for work outside the province" is the overriding assumption. At international meetings of the congregation, pro-vinces look first to their own rights and their interests, not to those of the congregation. Suspicion and feud-like behavior colors the province's rela. tions with the general administration and with other provinces. Stories of past interference and misunderstandings on the part of general officers are gleefully recounted in order to maintain in the province a distrust of "out. siders." Beyond Frontiers" Apostolically, provinces in this model are strong supporters of main-tenance rather than of mission within the dioceses in which they work. A province takes its bearings all too exclusively from the internal ecclesiastical and socioeconomic structure of the countries where its apostolates are situated.32 There is little or no prophetic challenging of dioceses or diocesan administrations. Consequently, there is little room for other issues such as justice or multiculturalism/supranationalism. Individ-uals wh0do show interest are thought to be "somewhat odd," or follow-ing a "hobby," or just "wasting time." On the other hand, where involve-ment in the social apostolate is encouraged, its relationship with the Transcendent may be deliberately played down "lest one's identification with the Gospel hinder one's identification with those who struggle for social justice." In this model clericalism would be a dominant force in clerical insti-tutes. (Clericalism connotes "an authoritarian style of ministerial leader-ship, a rigidly hierarchical world view, and a virtual identification of the holiness and grace of the Church with the clerical state and, thereby, with the cleric himself.''33) Consequently, within community there would be little fraternity with lay members of the congregation who would be looked down upon as inferior and as "servants of the priests." Lay involvement in apostolic works of the congregation would be poorly encouraged. On the other hand, religious who might act against clericalism would overidentify with worldly values and with the customs of the ambient cul-ture on the pretext that this will "bring us closer to the people we are evangelizing." As regards the screening and formation of candidates, the approach in such a congregation would be colored by all the above characteristics. Can-didates would be encouraged to join the province if they are seen to have the qualities that would "fit them in" to the overriding inward-looking, weakly prophetic ethos of the province. Candidates would be jealously iso-lated from contact with those from other provinces lest they develop "dan-gerous ideas," supranationalism, or the feeling of belonging to a "con-gregation wider than the province." Formators of other provinces could not be trusted to direct the formation of candidates because they might decide that the latter have "no vocation to religious life." Hence, interprovincial and international formation programs would be severely discouraged. Model 2. Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism In Figure 2, I set out emphases that are seen in congregations which approximate the second model, Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism. 364 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 The members of such a religious congregation commit themselves primar-ily to the mission of Christ and the Church according to the insights of the founding figure. Administrative structures such as provinces exist to facil-itate the response of the congregation itself to the mission of Christ. The spiritual and human welfare of members of the congregation is considered of paramount imporiance. The congregation's administrators are alive to the ctiallenge given them by Paul VI that they take up the "double task of inspiring and innovating in order to make structures evolve, so as to adapt them to the real needs" of mission and personnel.34'Provinces relate to one another and to the general administration on the basis of their common mission and according to subsidiar{ty, dialogue and discernment. Apostolates are selected according to definite objective criteria: the pri-ority of needs in the universal Church and local churches, the mission of the Church, the charism of the congregation and the resources available. The congregation hesitates to accept parishes unless there is scope for mis-sionary and creative pastoral action. No matter what apostolate is selected, members of~ the congregation will attitudinally be influenced in all they do by the need to call the People of God to multiculturalism/supranationalism. Given the priority of needs internationally today, congregations may strive, where possib!e, to witness to supranationalism by establishing international teams. For these teams to be effective they need to fulfill various require-ments. Firstly, those selected must be capable of living internationally according to the principles of supranationalism. Not everyone has the abil-ity to live and work on an international team; there can be heavy d6mands on the psychological and spiritual resources of individuals as they are called to face up to the requirements of constant adaptation to new cultural con-ditions. Secondly, members of teams must be given the chance for adequate preparation spiritually and humanly in order that they can fit into challeng-ing international and intercultural situations. This means not only the acquisi-tion of linguistic skills, but also an awareness of key anthropological insights into the nature and power of culture, culture change, the role of catalysts in culture change, and so forth. In their training programs mem-bers will need to have adequate periods of living in cultures very different from their own. They will need to experience the shock of being "at sea" in a culture that is unfamiliar to them; they will need to discover for them-selves the richness of being humble and dependent on other people whose culture they do not know or understand. Their own cultural biases and preju-dices must be challenged, otherwise an insidious ethnocentrism will govern their relations with other team members and the peoplethey hope to serve Beyond Frontiers / 365 Figure 2 Model 2. Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism Loyalty: primarily to the Congregation which is at the service of the mission of Christ and Church. Apostolates: based on -priority of needs in universal Church (internationalism/supranationalism) and local churches (multiculturalism). -charism of congregation -available resources Administration: -at service of mission -provinces and general administration relate on basis of common mission/subsidiarity/ dialogue-discernment Formation: Initial: On _going. -based on mission/charism -emphasis on union with Christ for cre-ative response to demands of change. -training for internationalism/ multiculturalism/supr-anationalism -revitalization of commitment to: -Christ -Congregation -creativity/adapability in change pastorally. Thirdly, in the structuring of an international team, as far as is possi-ble no one culture should predominate. If one cultural group does predom-inate, it is likely to over-influence attitudes and policies of the group.35 If a culturally balanced team is not possible, the predominant cultural group must be especially sensitive to avoid obstructing the emergence of 366 / Review for Religious, May-~June, 1987 supranationalism in the team. From history, such international teams as I have described are apt to foster vigorous creativity pastorally and in religious life. As Raymond Hostie notes: Basic to all institutions that became remarkable for their explosive expan-sion is an initial heterogeneous core. Cistercians, Norbertines, Dominicans, Carmelites, Jesuits and Piarists, all emerged from groups whose members belonged to three nationalities, or even four or five. The initial group of Franciscans, CamillianS, Brothers of the Christian Schools and the Salesians was composed of men of very disparate social rank and cultural level. Heterogeneity is a necessary condition for activating effective fermentation.36 Initial formation in Model 2 is dictated by the demands of mission and the charism of the congregation. Hence, the programs are structured to foster in candidates a spirit of adaptability to constant change.37 Spiritual formation will be aimed at uncovering within candidates their own inner poverty and their ongoing need of strength from Christ: "He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eter-nal life" (Jn 12:25). The process of initial formation is a delicate one requir-ing skilled people to accompany candidates through the journey of self-discovery. Though the formation program is spread over several years and may well involve experiences in different cultural situations, there will be formators to whom candidates are clearly accountabl~. In Model 2, forma-tion is not a haphazard arrangement. As with initial formation, the ongoing formation programs are structured on the basis of the needs of mission. Religious need oppor-tunities to revitalize their commitment to Christ and to their congregational charism. They need space to reflect on whether or not their commitment to multiculturalism/supranationalism is rhetoric or reality. Over time, reli-gious may have uncritically absorbed negative values from the culture in which they work; little by little their supranationalism and pastoral creativ-ity may have been undermined. In this model it is assumed that adminis-trative structures are so flexible that superiors are able to spot quickly the individual needs of evangelizers and offer appropriate assistance. This ser-vice to evangelizers is part of a much wider task of administrations, namely, the ongoing need to foster evaluation of the apostolic relevance and effectiveness of the teams. In this model apostolates aie hot permitted~ to drift without goals and without effective evaluations. Conversion to Supranationalism In J.R. Toikien's The Hobbit: Or There and Back Again, Bilbo Beyond Frontiers / 367 Baggins initially turns down an invitation to go on a journey. He is too com-f0rtable in his way of life to be bothered with the trials of an adventure. He finally accepts the challenge and even begins to enjoy it. The cultures and the people he meets both disturb and intrigue him. But he soon tires of the constant need to adapt to new challenges, so he turns for home and retreats from the world of adventure singing:."Feet that wandering have gone, Turn at last'to home afar. Eyes . . . Look at last on meadows green.-38 Most of us can identify with Bilbo. We commit ourselves to multiculturalism/supranationalism, that is to the preaching of God's love across the frontiers of cultures. Yet we are tempted at times to weaken our efforts, to seek the security of our own cultures and our prejudices. Inevitably we will give way to these temptations, thus losing our apostolic effectiveness, if we seek to rely on merely human motivation. There is needed that inner, ongoing conversion that comes~from being a new creation in Christ (2 Co 5:17). Only in the ongo.ing response.to this new life will we have the inner resources to become "all things to all men" (1 Co 9:22). The divine love within us gives us the evangelical muscle to keep struggling to be open to other p~oples "~nd their cultures: "Love is patient; love is kind. Love is not jealous, it does not l~ut on airs, it is not snobbish . There is no limit to love's forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure" (! Co 13:4,6). St. Paul uses the analogy of a runner when he explains the process of ongoing conversion. To stop runn.ing for the Lord is to fall back into purely human insights and comforts (1 Co 9:24-27). Constant discipline 6f the whole person is required: "Athletes deny themselves all sorts of things: . . . What I do is discipline my own body and master it; for fear that after having preached to others I myself ~.hould be rejected" (ibid). The discipline of conversion also involves the Struggle .to identify one's own cultural prejudices, and the battle to remove them. It is a never-ending struggle and battle! I recall a fine evangelizer working outside his culture-of-origin commenting: '~I th6.ught for years I was not prejudiced. I believedI deeply loved these people. One day ! discovered that I was highly prejudiced and this shocked me intense]y. I could get no good ser-vice in the local shops, the car was slow to be fixed, letters were not reach-ing me fast enough, the food tasted horrible! I found myself complaining aloud about the people, and I used all the stereotypes about them that I had thought I had long rejected: 'These silly people--they are lazy, deceitful. If only I was back home where things are really done rightly!' " This evangelizer is an honest person. He courageously recognized' his prejudices as grave obstacles to his supranational work of evangelization, and courageously struggled to remove them. He understands that self- 361~ /Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 discipline must be ongoing. When Yahweh called Abraham, he summoned him to leave the warmth of his familiar surroundings to begin a life's journey: "Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father's house to a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1). R(ligious are to live out the same kind of call in a' spirit of faith. Bilbo, when he started out on his journey, sang "The world is ahead and home behind," but finally rejoiced when he could sing "The world is behind and home ahead." For we religious, unlike Bilbo, the ~hailenges of the world ahead are always with us; we can never say that we run out6f apostoli.c challenges or adventures. And our home is also ahead of u~. We await in hope for the ne, w Jerusalerrl (Ga 4:26). We can resist making this world our substitute Jerusalem only if we have Abraham's spirit of detachment and faith. Detachment comes from discov-ering in oneself one's own chaotic powerlessness to be supranationalist with-oiat the love and power of Christ. If we recognize our own inner helplessness, then we can say with'St. Paul: "And' so I willingly boast of my weaknesses instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me . . . for when I am powerless, it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12:9f.). Summary With St. Paul we say: "I do not run like a man who loses sight of the finish line" (1 Co 9:26). The ultimate finish line, in which there will be perfect justice and love, is to.be found when "the new heavens and the new earth" emerge at the end of time (2 P 3: I'3). In this waiting time we strive in faith to express this justice and love towards different peoples and cultures: "There does not exist among you Jew or Greek, slave or freeman, male or female. All, are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). Religious esl~ecially commit themselves to this vision and its realiza-tion. In their lives and preachiflg they call people to look beyond this or that pressure group, political party, cultural group, tO the needs and insights of other people and cultures.39 At the same time they challenge people to avoid an unrealistic and ~i'~ous search for ~ perfect world here below, "for the world as we know it° is passing away" (I Co 7:31). Religious,. when confronted by the enormity of evil around them will be tempted to discouragement, skepticism or even the recklessness of despair. They will bc tempted to retreat into the security of their cultural prejudices and feel-ings of superiority. Recourse to merely human power, even violence, in order to achieve human justice may look very attractive. However, the moment a religious gives way to these temptations, he or she ceases to be apostolically supranationalist --indeed, apostolically effective. Beyond Frontiers I 369 NOTES ~ See John Paul II, Redemptor Hominis, 1979, par. 8. z See On Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious, Congregations for Religious and Bishops, Rome, 1978, par. 12. 3 G. AIIport, The Nature of Prejudice (New York: Doubleday, 1958), p. 8. 4 See also D.L. Shields, Growing Beyond Prejudices (Mystic, Conn.: Twenty-Third Publications, 1986), pp. 149-176. 5 At times anthropologists, too, are guilty of romanticism. See G.E. Marcus and M.M. Fischer, Anthropology as Cultural Critique: An Experimental Moment in the Human Sciences (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1986), passim. 6 Dictionary of the Bible (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1986), p. 766. 7 See Congregation for Doctrine of the Faith, "Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation" in L'Osservatore Romano, 14 April, 1986, p. 5, par. 58. 8 See Lumen Gentium, par. 3. 9 Gaudium et Spes, par. 3. ~0 See G.A. Arbuckle, "lnculturation and Evangelization: Realism or Romanticism" in D.L. Whiteman (ed.), Missionaries, Anthropologists and Cultural Change (Williamsburg: Studies in Third World Societies, 1985), pp. 171-207. ~ See "Gregory's Counsel to Mellitus with Regard to the Heathen Temples in England" in A.J. Mason (ed.), The Mission of St. Augustine to England (Cambridge: CUP, 1879), pp. 89ff. t2 G. Voss, "Missionary Accommodation" in Missionary Academic Study No. 2 (New York: P. Faith, 1946), p. 17. ~3 See P. Duignan, "Early Jesuit Missionaries: A Suggestion for Further Study," in American Anthropologist, Vol. 6, pp. 725ff. 14 See S. Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith, "Instructio ad Vicariorum Apostolicorum ad Regna Synarum Tonchini et Cocinnae Proficiscentium," in Collectanea Sacrae Congregationis de P. Fide (Rome, 1907), Vol. I, p. 42. ~5 See M.D. Jeffreys, "Some Rules of Directed Culture Change under Roman Catho-licism" in American Anthropologist, Vol. 58, 1956, pp. 723f. ~6 See C.W. Allan, Jesuits at the Court of Peking (Arlington: University Publications of America, 1975), passim; and P. Duignan, op. cit., pp; 726ff. t7 See Pius XII, "Princeps Pastorum" in (ed.)R. Hickey, Modern Missionary Doc-uments and Africa (Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1982), p. 143. ~8 See Pius XII, AIIocution 6 Dec. 1953, in Acta